He’s so filthy with his words when he fucks you, mastering the perfect concoction of both praise and degradation. Of course you were his pretty girl, but you were also his dirty slut.
“Fuck. Just look at you, going dumb on my cock.” He drawls, a handsome grin etched on that perfect face of his. You’re bent over his desk, crying out for him while your eyes water and your tongue lolls out of your swollen lips. “You sound so cute baby, so fucking pathetic.”
One hand holds you tightly by your waist, the other tangled in your hair, keeping you angled just right for his cock to hit that sweet spot inside of you. Your moans are muffled by the way he’s holding you, neck craned uncomfortably towards the ceiling.
“Come on princess, use your words.” He chuckles, rutting against you without a care in the world as your moans bounce off the walls of his office, “Ain’t fucked you that stupid, have I?”
He had indeed fucked you that stupid. Entirely consumed by the way he uses your body, pleasure practically rewiring your mind to be nothing but his toy. Craving to please him like it was your only goal in life, wanting nothing more than to hear his sultry voice praise you just the way you liked.
“So wet for me baby. Such a good girl.” He asks softly, pressing gentle kisses to your spine. The tender feeling of his lips against the back of your neck is slightly paradoxical considering the brutal rhythm of his hips. “My gorgeous little slut, aren’t you?”
Can’t stop thinking about riling up Gojo, teasing him until he loses control and breaks beneath you. He’d be so patient for you, biting back curses as you rid him slowly; the tantalising pace driving him more insane with every buck of your hips. You’d watch as his long, slender fingers twisted in the bed sheets, knuckles turning white in an attempt to stop himself from grabbing roughly at your hips and taking you exactly how he wanted to.
“Come on baby, you can do better than that,” The cocky grin on his face does little to hide his frustration, the smile not quite reaching his crystal eyes; instead they’re laced with something insatiable, something threatening. Your walls clench around him at the sight of the hunger in his gaze and he whines, his brows furrowing.
“Please,” He’d whimper, the smug expression reduced to one that’s almost wanton, “Please, I need you. Need you so fucking bad.”
Your rhythm doesn’t change, if anything it slows even further. It sends Saturo’s resolve crumbling, breaking apart piece by piece with every minute that goes by. His brows are pinched in the centre, mouth open as he pants pathetically, whimpers leaving his soft, pink lips. You’re addicted to the fire behind his gaze, the blazing look burning amidst his blue orbs burning brighter than you’d ever seen.
A growl rips through Gojo’s throat, his strong digits digging into your sides, hard enough to bruise. “Fuck this,” Saturo mutters menacingly, a depth to his silky voice that sends shivers down your spine. One moment you’re bouncing leisurely on his length, the next you’re flipped around entirely, face buried in the sheets and ass in the air, “Now you’ve fucking done it.”
He thrusts into you roughly, unapologetic as his hips snap into you from behind. A crazed chuckle leaves his lips, watching the way your ass bounces against him with a lob sided, carnal grin. Gojo holds your hips with a grip so strong it makes you gasp, bucking into you ruthlessly. He was never necessarily vanilla with you before, but the way he’s grinning like a madman and the speed of which he’s fucking into you is something you’ve never experienced. Today you’d pushed him too far, broken your sweet, loving boyfriend and reduced him to this.
You fucking loved it.
“Thought you could take control, heh,” You hardly recognise his voice, practically hearing the maniacal smile in his words. Saturo’s hand snakes up to your hair, grabbing it in his fist and pulling you up so your backs to his chest. He lewdly licks a stripe down the back of your neck, nipping at the skin, “Look at you now,” His tone turns soft and downright patronising as he speaks into the nape of your neck, “A dirty-little- fucking-slut.” Each filthy word leaving his mouth is punctuated by a thrust. It sends heat rushing to your core, he never spoke to you like this, always praising and complimenting you as he’d worship your body.
“This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it?” You tried to answer but the way he’s fucking you has unable to formulate a sentence. He loosens his grip on your hair, combing his fingers through the strands and a soft, wet kiss on the back of your neck, completely juxtaposing the way he’s pummelling your cunt, “Filthy girl.”
Saturo’s mind is hazy with lust, nothing on his mind but ruining you for working him up so much. The moans leaving his mouth are unabashedly loud, lost in the feeling of you around him. His icy hair is ruffled, eyes glowing impossibly brighter and that wicked smile still graces his lips. You turn your head to look at him and he almost comes right there, his brows pinching together in the centre and his eyes going lidded. “You look so fucking pretty when I ruin you baby.”
synopsis: it’s been months since gojo broke up with you, so why is he outside of your window at 4am?
warnings: angst, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, exes to lovers
wc: 4.7k
this post contains nsfw content, minors do not interact.
It’s 4 a.m., and Gojo finds himself at the entrance of your apartment complex. He’s drenched from head to toe, having turned off his infinity hours ago; he just wanted to feel. The cold dampness of his clothes was almost comforting, and the droplets cascading down from his hair to his face were welcomed. Gojo, just for tonight, wanted to feel human.
He isn’t even entirely sure how he got here; it wasn’t a case of teleporting to your place as he usually would. No, Gojo had wandered aimlessly (or so he thought) and ended up here, gazing up at the dark window to your bedroom and wondering what you were doing, how you looked, and how you were feeling. Were you even awake?
It had been a few months since he had broken it off with you, coldly rejecting you when he noticed the signs of you falling in love with him. He was unforgivingly callous with you that night, acting as if you were insane for thinking there was anything serious between the two of you and that it was just a bit of fun.
If only you understood how untrue each and every word that he said that night truly was. Gojo adored you, terrifyingly so; it scared him to no end. He had his reasons for calling things off; he believed them to be necessary, but that didn’t change the gnarling pit that had been festering in his chest ever since. Satoru missed you; he missed you so damn much that his only distraction was throwing himself into mission after mission. But at night, when there was no company but his empty sheets and no voice but the dismal hum of the television, he felt empty, lost, and alone.
He looks up to your window again, his heart skipping a beat when he notices the dim glow of your lamp lighting up the glass. Mind racing, he conjures up thoughts of someone else sharing your bed, touching you, holding you—why else would you be up at this godforsaken time?
His thoughts are interrupted when he sees a familiar face peep up over the window sill, your eyes meeting his. That warm feeling returns to his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt since he saw you last. Gojo notices the way the streetlights around him flicker at his surge of emotion and gets himself in check.
He doesn’t even have time to think about how much of a creep he looks like at that moment before his phone rings. Looking down and seeing your name pop up on the screen, he answers without hesitation, watching as you climb onto your window, sitting on the sill and peering down at him, confused, hurt, and angry.
The call begins, and no one speaks, just the two of you gazing at each other from afar. Gojo thinks to himself how beautiful you look and ponders how much more beautiful you’d look up close. A half smile graces his lips, a greeting—a greeting not mirrored by you. You’re frowning, rolling your eyes to mask the sadness you feel. Much like Gojo’s small smile, you’re both hiding the pain that’s eating you up, threatening to break through the surface at any given moment. Saturo removes his blindfold, stuffing it into his pocket and revelling in how angelic you look up there. It feels like forever passes before you say, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”
He flinches; you never called him Gojo, always Satoru, or his personal favourite, Toru. It felt so cold, so not you. The man swallows audibly, a shakiness to his breath that he’d rather conceal as he sighs, “I don’t know.”
Gojo sees the way you scoff, shaking your head in exasperation. "Gojo, if you don’t know why you’re outside my place, like a fucking creep, may I add, at four in the morning, then politely fuck off.”
“Hey, come on.” His voice is soft like silk, and there's an air to his tone that feels different; there’s no cockiness, no ego, just Gojo. “I wanted to see you; is that such a bad thing?”
“You mean, after you were a total dick and we agreed on no contact? Yeah, Gojo, it kind of is.”
The use of his surname burns again, the blow not having been lessened since the first time. “Just let me in, please,” he practically begs. “I want to talk; I’ve missed you.” Satoru hardly recognises himself; he’d never been one to put his heart on the line, to speak so softly to someone though they detested his presence; not that he blamed you.
He can see the lack of trust in your expression, looking away from him when you speak up next. "Look, Gojo, if you’re looking for someone to fuck, I’m not interested. I’m sure there’s someone else you can call.”
You could act cold and stoic all you wanted; Gojo could hear the hurt in your voice and sense your sadness in the words. It sends a wave of guilt through him. You sound so broken, broken because of him. He’d kill someone for using you like that, to think you thought that of him cut deep. But how else could you see him? That’s the narrative that he’d created when he’d falsely convinced you that he saw your blatant relationship as nothing but fuck buddies. He struggled to see how you fell for that—with the way he couldn’t go a day without seeing you—and how you’d wake up wrapped in his arms with his lips on your ear, whispering how important you are to him each and every morning.
“I wouldn’t do that to you. That’s not what I’m here for,” he begins, shaking his head and noting the way you look back towards him, a look of vulnerability crossing your features. “I just want to talk; let me in, please. You know, I’m not one to beg, but if you really want me to, I will.”
Your silence speaks volumes, raising a brow at the icy-haired nuisance floors below you. The quiet is broken by a sigh from Gojo, and you watch in both horror and amusement as the six eyes himself gets down on his knees on a dirty sidewalk in the rain. He places his phone on the ground beside him, raising his hands in a praying gesture and looking up at you with the most dramatic set of puppy dog eyes you ever did see.
Gojo sees you disappear, and the call ends, the look on his face contorting to one of defeat. He groans, holding his head in his hands and shaking it. Stupid, he thought, how stupid of him to think you’d hear him out, stupid of him to think you still cared after what he’d done. Mildly embarrassed at his current position, he picks up his phone next to him and places it in his pocket. He’s about to stand when he hears the bell chime from your apartment's intercom, followed by your voice: “Come on up. Doors open.”
Gojo doesn’t need to be told twice; he jumps up and runs through the door like a giddy child on Christmas morning. He doesn’t bother waiting for the elevator, sprinting up multiple flights of stairs, and almost skidding past your door in an attempt to stop himself. Bursting through the door with a stupid lob-sided grin on his face, he opens out his arms and beams, "Honey, I’m home!”
He’s met with you scowling at him from the couch, an unimpressed look on your face while you roll your eyes and emit an exasperated sigh, “Hi Gojo.”
Satoru blows the damp locks from his eyes, clearing his throat and wiping that stupid smile from his face, replacing it with the look of a child who’s been scolded: "Sorry, I uh-hey.” He rubs the back of his head, planting himself on the couch next to you, and feels a tinge (more like an avalanche) of hurt when you scoot a little further away from him.
“Are you going to tell me what you want?” He hears the question, but it hardly registers. Gojo’s captivated by the cute pyjamas you’re wearing, your hair being slightly ruffled from being in bed, the smell of your apartment, and how it feels like home. He comes back to Earth when he hears you say his name impatiently, clearing his throat and then regaining his composure.
“Would it not be enough for me to just say I missed your company?” He asks with a toothy smile, desperately attempting to avoid finally addressing his emotions. Gojo sees the way your shoulders drop in annoyance, shaking your head and crossing your arms. He misses the way you used to look at him, eyes full of adoration and laughter at his goofy jokes. It felt like a million years ago, but not long ago at all. Time had been blurred for Saturo since the demise of your relationship.
“If you don’t start talking in the next five seconds, I’m kicking your ass out.”
“Fuck, fine, okay, shit.” He fumbles with his words, running a hand through his hair and sighing. Smooth talker Satoru was gone; this was uncharted territory for him. Looking at the ground, he scratches at the back of his neck and mumbles out a low, "I, uh, wanted to apologise.”
“Oh really? ”You raise a brow, clearly unconvinced, as you tilt your head towards him, an accusatory squint in your eyes. Gojo clicks his tongue; his half-arsed apology clearly wouldn’t do.
"Yeah, I…well, I,” Searching for the words, he wracks his brain for exactly what to say; he couldn’t exactly just confess his undying love for you. No, Gojo needed to explain what the fuck had happened that night. “I feel really bad about the way things ended, you know? You didn’t deserve that, and I-“
"Well, it’s too late.”
Gojo’s mouth runs dry, his heart lurching into his throat. “What do you mean it’s too late?” Panic consumes him, and he’s unable to hide it from his expression—eyes widening, brows shooting up, and his lip practically quivering. “Is there someone else? Have you got a boyfriend? That’s weird because I’ve been kind of keeping tags on you, and I haven’t heard anything about a new-“
“Gojo, I’m not seeing anyone.” You try to ignore his ramblings and admittance to borderline stalking. “But that’s irrelevant; you hurt me, probably more than any guy has... You know I would’ve expected it from anyone else, but not you.” Your voice breaks a little, fighting the waterworks that are threatening to run down your cheeks. “I guess I thought you were different.”
Gojo’s heart splinters, his grip on the arm of the sofa tightening like a vice. His hands begin to shake, and your television turns to static, his powers only growing stronger under the intense emotions he’s emitting. He looks down at the ground, a look of shame falling over his features as he runs a hand over his face. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
"Well, Gojo, you did. A fucking lot, actually.” You scoff sarcastically, shaking your head in disbelief. He flinches at your words, and you continue with a sigh, “It’s okay that you didn’t love me like I loved you; that isn’t your fault. What was your fault? You were not being truthful with me from the start about what sort of relationship we had.”
“It hurts when you call me Gojo,” is all he can say. He wants to slap himself; why was it so hard for him to tell you the truth? You were pouring your heart out to him, and that was his response? Fuck, he thinks, you’re an asshole, Satoru.
"Well, Gojo, I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s hurt.” You stand, ignoring his worried gaze, as you make your way over to the door. Your backs to him as you exhale exhaustively, if not a little sad. You lean forward, resting your forehead against the door. “You should leave Gojo; I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”
You don’t hear him dart up from your sofa, moving inhumanly fast towards you. Gojo’s really panicking now; he has no intention of leaving as he grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around. Your eyes meet, and it’s as if a current runs between the two of you, ebbing the small gap now separating your bodies. The lights go out in your apartment, and you just know it’s Gojo, with a strange look in his eyes as he struggles to contain both his powers and the strength he’s withholding from his grasp. He cages you against the door, hands planted on either side of your head, and lips dangerously close to yours. Gojo searches your eyes and ushers out a desperate, hurried whisper of your name, followed by, “I love you.”
Everything stills, a thick silence surrounding the two of you. You can’t quite believe your ears, convinced this is some sort of sick joke. “You what?”
Gojo’s eyes go slightly dewy, a somewhat defeated look to his gaze as he shifts, so he’s holding your face in his hands, pressing his forehead against yours. “I love you. I love you so fucking much I can’t stand it. You’re… You’re everything. Please don’t make me leave, please.”
“B..But…” You’re so confused, barely grasping what he’s saying to you. He looks so earnest, his eyes burning into you as he waits for a reply, but how can you trust him? His slender fingers softly rub your cheek where he holds you, so gentle and loving that it’s nauseating. “Then why?”
“Why did I do it?” He hums, his voice so low that it sounds distant. There’s a level of nonchalance to his tone; instead, he’s enraptured and hypnotised by the proximity of you both; he’s dazed as he drawls a quiet, “Because you’re weak.” Gojo’s pulled out of his daze by the hurt painting your features as you look away, the way you’ve attempted to jolt away from his touch as if he’s burned you.
“No, no, you don’t understand. Shit, sorry. That came out wrong. I'm not good at this, feelings and shit.” He still hasn’t let go of you; your faces are mere inches from each other; he couldn’t even if he wanted to. Gojo’s an addict for you; drunk off of your presence alone, he’d gone without you for too long, craving you for months. He tilts his head to the side, gently moving your face back towards his and clearing his throat.
“What I mean is that you’re important to me—more important than you could ever imagine. But to bring you into my world would be reckless and foolish; it would be a fucking death sentence. I’m the strongest sorcerer of our generation; no one dares to fuck with me, but you know who they could fuck with to hurt me.” A look of understanding and a little fear come over you, and you let out a shaky breath.
He smiles sadly, “You.”
One of your hands snakes up to his chest, moving softly over the ridges of his muscles beneath the shirt. You can feel the beat of his heart, the erratic thudding matching your own. “Then why are you here?”
He blinks slowly, the hands holding your cheeks gently trailing to hold your jaw so softly that you feel like his most prized possession. “Because I’m selfish. Because I want you despite the consequences.“ Gojo closes the small space separating your faces, licking his lips before his eyes dart to your mouth, entranced by the thought of it against his own again, finally saying, “Because I can’t stay away from you anymore.”
Gojo’s nose brushes against yours, those ocean-like eyes begging you for permission. You couldn’t refuse him now; you never could. The hand resting on his chest snakes up to his shoulder, tugging him ever so slightly to show him and tell him, yes.
A small smile hints at his lips before his mouth touches yours, relief surging through you both at the contact. Gojo holds your face tenderly, kissing you as if you’d break apart before him. He takes his time, gently nibbling at your lips and kissing you almost innocently while his fingers caress your jaw. He hums contentedly, pressing himself into you and craning his neck down to get a better angle. Towering over you, one of his hands trails down to your waist, his soft hands drawing circles on the skin of your stomach.
Gojo savours every touch of your lips against his, flitting his tongue against your lower lip, seeking entrance and sighing when your mouth opens. His tongue dances around yours expertly, tasting you as if you were ambrosia; he was a man starved, savouring every flick of your pink muscle against his.
Gojo deepens the kiss a little, pressing his hips flush against yours. He groans low in his chest when your hands tug at his hair softly, taking your tongue into his mouth and sucking erotically. It sends a wave of pleasure down to your core, and you gasp softly, moaning a soft “Toru.”
You feel Gojo pull away a little, panicking slightly, until you see the look on his face. His eyes are blown wide and glittering in the darkness like stars. His jaw is taut as if he’s grinding his teeth, and his cheekbones are protruding even more than usual. A streetlight outside fizzles and explodes at the same time one of his eyes twitch; he’s breathing heavily, chest heaving.
“Again,” he commands darkly, an air to his tone that personifies his true power; it was as if his voice reverberated around your brain, low and dominating.
It had been far too long since he had heard his name on your sweet lips; the result had his brain short-circuiting. He wanted to hear it again—in your moans, your whispers, and your screams. Gojo feels an ache between his thighs, an insatiable ache that only you can rid him of.
“Toru,” you murmur, looking up at him with your big doe eyes and swollen mouth. A growl festers in his throat, pushing you up against the door and leaning down to nibble at your neck, sucking and biting, leaving his mark.
“Again,” he repeats, his face buried in your skin as he litters your skin with purple marks. Taking his onslaught downwards to your chest, nipping at your collar bones. Gojo’s mind is hazy with you—the need to take you, the need to love you, the need to ruin you, the need to keep you by his side for eternity—or else he swears he’d unleash an untold wrath on this godforsaken planet.
“Toru,” His name leaves your lips again as his lips cascade down, his fingers hooking the hem of your pyjama top so your breasts are free from their confines. He whines at the sight, his hips buckling as you feel his warm, wet mouth around your nipple. Swirling his tongue around the bud, his slender fingers toy with the one unoccupied by his lips, revelling in the throaty gasps that leave you when he tugs teasingly.
“I missed you so much,” Satoru drawls as he slowly gets to his knees. He’s looking up at you with so much adoration, as if you hung the moon from the very sky above the two of you. There’s a softness to his gaze that you’d missed; the formidable six eyes was nothing but ‘Toru’ to you; you hardly understood the Jujutsu world. That’s what made you so special to Gojo; you saw him as human, unaware of how far from that he was.
He tugs down your shorts, watching your face closely for any signs of discomfort. When he’s met with only that needy, eager look in your eyes, he chuckles a little. Your shorts hit the floor, and Gojo licks his lips, a breathy exhale emitting from him. You’re bare before him, and he can hardly contain his excitement to taste you again. His nose nudges the inside of your thigh, planting painfully gentle kisses around the skin. Gojo’s lips worship everywhere but your pussy, teasingly torturing you until you’re whimpering above him. He grins when your hands lace in his hair, attempting and failing to push him closer to your core.
“One more time for me, baby,” Satoru mutters, licking a lewd stripe up your thigh and maintaining direct eye contact with you as he does so. “Say my name.”
“Toru, please,” Your sweet little voice, begging for him, snaps something inside Gojo. His mouth latches on your clit , a strained growl tearing through his chest at the taste of you on his tongue. Pretty blue eyes rolling back, Satoru feeds on you like a man starved, your essence dripping down his chin while he works your pussy like the God he is. Two fingers push inside of you as his tongue stays focused on your bud, your mind in a daze as whimpers and cries leave you.
He curls them perfectly, hitting your sweet spot and having your knees buckle above him. His free hand holds you up effortlessly against the door, as if you were a mere feather in his grasp, while he ravenously feasts between your legs. He’s groaning into you, creating a delicious vibration that has you seeing stars.
“Taste so fucking good.” His voice is muffled, sputtering out amongst your wetness. You can feel it seeping down your thighs, too lost in the pleasure to feel coy as you begin to rut against his mouth. He practically whines, loving the feeling of you humping your cunt against his plump lips.
Gojo knows you’re getting close when he feels you tightening around his fingers, increasing his speed and the pressure with which he’s sucking on your clit. His snowy locks bounce up and down below you at his movements, azure eyes fluttering shut as his full focus is centred on bringing you to your peak.
It doesn’t take long before you're thrown over the edge, crying out something unintelligible, and your body goes slack. Gojo coaxes you through it, his movements slowing but not ceasing as you ride out your high. He bundles you into his arms, and you hardly notice you’re so lost in euphoria, carrying you effortlessly to the bedroom and lying you on the bed below him.
He stands above you, towering over you as he pulls his shirt over his head, a cocky grin on his lips when he sees your eyes practically meld to the shape of hearts. His abdominal muscles are shadowed in the light of the moon; a figure of pure excellence stands before you. He puts those marbled Greek gods to shame, with milky skin melded over a body of pure strength and agility. You wonder if he was crafted by the gods themselves, but that thought quickly disappears when he strips himself of his trousers, your mind going blank when you see the bulge in his boxers.
Gojo smirks, reading your mind. “Nothing on you, babe,” he chimes, ridding himself of his underwear and palming himself, looking down at you hungrily. You pull your top above your head, throwing it to the ground, and sit up on your elbows, parting your legs as a shy smile spreads across your lips.
Carefully, he lies on top of you, a hand coming to stroke at your cheek. “Before I fuck you, I want to make one thing very clear, okay?” You feel his cock rubbing against your cunt, up and down, lubricating himself with your slicks. He bites back a moan at the feeling, swallowing audibly before continuing, “You’re mine now; you’re bound to me. I love you.” He tilts his head, a dangerous look crossing his features. “But I’ve missed this pretty pussy too fucking much, so forgive me for what I’m about to do.”
He slams into you without warning, all the way to the hilt. Throwing back his head and groaning, he lets out an almost maniacal laugh before biting his lip. His gaze returns to you, a maddened look in his eyes as he begins to piston in out of you with inhuman strength. You’re left with no time to accommodate his insanely long cock, a silent scream leaving your lips as ecstasy consumes you. He’s watching you with an open-mouthed, slaw-jacked grin and a feral look to his usually perfect features. Satoru holds you by the waist, effortlessly pulling you to meet each one of his thrusts like you weighed nothing more than a doll. Unabashed moans leave his lips, rutting into you with so much force that the headboard is lodging itself into your bedroom wall.
“Sorry baby, fucking need this so bad.” He groans, pulling one of your thighs to rest on his shoulder and trickling tender kisses down your calf. “Don’t know what I was thinking, shit ah—should've never left you, should’ve never fucking left you. No one turns me on like you do, baby, no one.” Satoru’s rambling, dazed, and brain reduced to mush as he loses himself to his insatiable lust. You’re loving every second, craving what he’s giving you; it’s been too long, too long for a slow and sensuous fuck. No, you needed this; you needed him to show you how much he wanted you.
“See what you do to me, baby?” He coos, his hips somehow moving both faster and harder as he tilts his head down at you like he’s some sort of predator. “Turn me into a fucking animal—fuckkk—I can’t control myself around you, pretty girl.”
“Toruuuu,” You mewl, your back arching off of the bed as your legs begin to shake. He snarls at his name falling from your lips so lewdly, his cock throbbing inside of you. Satoru snakes his hand to your clit, rubbing quick circles onto the bud as his relentless pace doesn’t let up.
"God, you’re so fucking cute.” He practically chokes on his words, feeling his own orgasm grow dangerously close. His tongue flits out to lick his lips before he leans down, his mouth merging with your own filthily, all spit and teeth as he whines into your mouth.
You start tightening around him, and he cries out, shaking his head and groaning into your lips, “Hold on for me, baby; I want you to come with me. I'm so fucking close, just fucking-." Gojo cuts himself off and sits up, hands gripping your hips, while he begins to truly ruin your core. It’s so messy—your slick coating his cock and balls, dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. The room smells like sex; the sounds that fill it enough to make a woman of the night blush. “Ah baby, shit shit, that’s it, cum for me, baby, gonna fill you up, yesyesyesyes.”
The two of you reach your peak together, with you crying out his name and Satoru whining above you. His hips stutter as he paints your insides white, rope after rope filling you up. Satoru’s forehead drops to yours, both of you breathing heavily and grasping at each other like your lives depended on it.
After a few moments, Gojo rolls beside you and lies facing you as he peppers your face with kisses. His demeanour completely contradicts the one from a few minutes ago; he’s soft, giddy, and playful. There’s so much love in his gaze, making up for every peck he’s missed out on these last few months as his lips press against every part of your pretty little face.
“Soooo girlfriend,” Gojo chimes after a while of pestering you with his affections, playing with a piece of your hair as a playful smirk paints his features. “Tell me how much you missed me.”
featuring: satoru gojo x toji fushiguro x kento nanami x choso kamo
wc: 1.5k
warnings: mating press, doggystyle, missionary, cowgirl, dirty talk, unprotected sex
this post includes nsfw content, minors do not interact.
Satoru Gojo ꕥ Mating Press
Satoru just loves it when you’re splayed out beneath him, legs hooked over his shoulders as he fucks into you; praising you on how good you’re being for him, how pretty you look, how perfect you are.
“S…So deep, Toru,” You whimper, eyes lidded and mouth agape. The position allows him to fuck you deep enough that you can almost feel him in your tummy, kissing your cervix with every buck of his hips. His strokes are calculated and slow, his cock gliding easily against your walls only to be pulled back out again at an agonisingly unhurried pace.
“Getting so wet for me baby,” Satoru hums, fixated on the way your features twist at his movements. His hands are on either side of your face, fingers tangled in your hair to keep you glued in place. Gojo wants your gaze is fixed on him, clicking his tongue when your eyes close in pleasure, “Nuh uh, eyes on me, you know the rules.”
He gives you a light, playful slap to your cheek to bring you back to earth, a pretty smile gracing his lips when your eyes open again. Gojo tells you how much of a good girl you are for him, rewarding your obedience with an expertly pleasurable roll of his hips that hits your sweet spot just right.
Satoru’s hair falls into his face, those cerulean eyes glowing through the strands. He’s truly Godlike, your messiah, powerful and an image of pure sex; his handsome features twisted in pleasure. He lets out a sultry groan when you tighten around him, tongue flitting over his lips as his pace picks up slightly.
“Gonna fill you up, ‘kay baby? You can take it, right?” He coos, pouting down at you with a patronising shift of his expression before that chilling grin returns to his lips, “Of course you can - you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t ya baby?”
Toji Fushiguro ꕥ Doggystyle
Toji’s an ass man through and through, revelling in the sight of your behind bouncing against him with each of his thrusts. His grip on your hips is like a vice, pulling you back to meet each of his relentless movements.
“Y’ take me so well, Doll,” He groans, the bass of his voice reverberating through your chest. The sounds coming from the two of you are downright sinful; his grunts, your whines and the unmistakable noise of skin against skin.
“Fuck…Whose pussy is this?” Toji growls, practically snarling when you mutter a weak ‘yours’. His hand fists your hair, pulling you up at a slightly uncomfortable angle and turning your head to him. The sight you’re met with is one to behold; his eyes are carnal, sweat beading on his forehead and jaw tense. Some would mistake the look in his eyes as fury, but not you, you knew that look all too well. This was pure, unadulterated lust.
“I asked you a question,” Toji begins, his hips coming to a halt while he winds the strands of hair around his first once more. Bringing his lips to your ear, he places a soft kiss below it before clearing his throat, “Who-“ He thrusts into you impossibly hard, making your eyes water, “Owns-This-Fucking-Pussy?” Each word is followed by another inhuman buck of his hips before he pummels you fast and unforgiving.
You cry out, the pleasure almost too much. He’s hitting your sweet spot with every movement, sending you cascading into both heaven and hell; he tended to have that effect, a perfect mixture of good and bad. “Yours! Yours Toji, it’s all yours, I-I’m all yours”
Letting go of your hair, he allows you to fall onto the bed. You feel his lips at the top of your spine, a loving action despite the ruthless way he uses your body, “That’s right baby, and this cock’s all yours.”
Kento Nanami ꕥ Missionary
Call him vanilla, but Nanami fucking loves having you in missionary.
It’s the perfect view for him; your pretty face twisted in pleasure, the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts, watching as his cock sinks into your heat over and over. He likes to take his time in all aspects of his life and fucking you is no exception.
Kento knows every inch of your body even better than you do, knows exactly what makes you tick, exactly how to have you moaning his name in bliss. His hips work expertly against you, speeding up gradually before slowing when it all gets too much for you, dragging the thick veins of his cock along your walls leisurely and groaning when you tighten around him.
“Feel good, love?” He’s always so attentive, craving nothing more than your pleasure, more so than he is own. Not to say it doesn’t feel good for him, it feels fucking magnificent, but it feels all the more enjoyable when he knows you’re losing your mind as a result of his dick.
“I want you to cum, can you do that for me angel?” His breaths are staggered despite his composed tone, pulling his lower lip between his teeth and closing his eyes for just a moment before continuing, “I’ll count you down, okay?”
Kento brings a hand to his mouth, sucking briefly on a finger and looking you directly in the eye, before it snakes down to your clit. He rubs small circles onto the bud, making your eyes roll and back arch.
“Ten…Nine…Eight.”
The muscles in his chest and stomach flex with his movements, an image of perfection above you while he coos you gradually to your peak. You can’t help but trail your fingers down his abs; he’s the maestro of your pleasure, the root of all of your desires, the love of your life.
“Seven…Six…Five…”
His pace picks up slightly, emitting an obscene sound because of how wet you are. If you wasn’t so lost in the feeling of his cock, you’d maybe be embarrassed. A low, sexy groan ripples through his chest, sucking air through his teeth as he fights to keep his cool and calm composure.
“Four…Thr-oh fuck- Three…Two…”
The pressure he’s applying to your clit increases, the circles he’s rubbing become more of a vibration and you see white. You hear him gasp, his hips stuttering and body tensing before he manages to utter out a strained,
“One.”
Choso Kamo ꕥ Cowgirl
No surprise here, Choso absolutely loses it when you take control.
“You look so pretty Cho,” you murmur, revelling in the way his cheeks flush furiously at the compliment. He whines, hips bucking a little as you bounce yourself up and down on his length. His hands fist the sheets, throwing back his head so the apple in his throat pierces against the skin.
“T-Thank you,” Choso manages to utter, his gaze once again returning to yours with heavy lids. His eyes are glossy, lips plump and swollen, hair array amongst the covers while you ride him just how he likes it.
Slow and smooth, the soft slaps of skin caused by the rhythm of your hips is his favourite symphony; he could watch you all day, looking up at you with a look of pure adoration on his handsome features. “You’re p-perfect,” He moans, a pitch to his tone so high that his voice is unrecognisable, “Love you- mmph - Love you so much.”
“Love you too baby,” You purr seductively, your hands moving to rest on his chiseled chest. Choso gasps at the feeling, back arching upwards and his cock twitching inside of you; he’s already came once, an agonisingly pleasurable orgasm and he’s still begging for me.
“P-Please don’t stop- ah - don’t want you to stop, don’t want you to ever stop,” He’s almost sobbing, sensitive and overstimulated but still so, so needy for you. His words are slurred, mouth agape and the most wanton look on his face.
“Can I go faster Cho?” You ask softly, snaking a hand up to his cheek and caressing his sharp features softly, “Wanna cum on your cock.” Whimpering, he stutters out a response quickly like the subservient lover he is, nodding his head desperately….pleadingly, “Anything y-you want, anything for you, p-please.” Choso grips the sheets impossibly harder as if to prepare himself for the change of your pace, breaths coming out quick and sharp.
Bouncing on his cock much faster than before, you watch as his eyes roll back and his mouth opens in a silent scream before a stream of whimpers and moans leave those pretty lips of his. He’s a mess beneath you now, shuddering and spluttering, his dark purple irises practically crossing lewdly.
“Such a good boy Cho.”
That sends him over the edge unexpectedly, whining like a whore at the praise. Goosebumps cover his entire body as he takes a shaky intake of breath, “Ah-ah shit sorry baby, gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum again.” He sobs, a tear rolling down his cheek as his hips shake beneath you, cock throbbing as he releases his load in you for the second time that night, but definitely not the last.
Gojo wanted a baby; more specifically, Gojo wanted a baby with you. He was practically a Dad anyway, his students loved him and Megumi - well, he tolerated him anyway. He’d love to be a Father, to cherish a little bundle of joy of whom he could see the both of you in. That isn’t the only reason, as much as he tries to convince himself - truthfully he’s riddled with thoughts of you plump with his child, glowing and marked by him, only him. It had been on his mind for a while now, the fantasy possessing his very being every time he looked at you.
One night when he’s buried deep inside of you, lay between your thighs and rutting into your heat; he accepts that he can’t keep it contained any longer. It’s the way you’re looking at him, eyes hazy with adoration and lust as your arch yourself into him, whimpering his name lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your nails.
He grunts your name between particularly harsh thrusts, his gaze boring into you intensely as his jaw tightens. For once, Gojo’s struggling to formulate the words he wants to say, practically growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his brain while the urge to fill you up with his cum gets stronger with each snap of his hips, “Baby, I- Can I? Shit.” He looks away, cheeks flushing and biting his lip. You tilt your head slightly as if to cue his continuation, bringing your mouth to his collar bone briefly before catching his downright hypnotising orbs again with your own.
“Wanna-.” Gojo grunts and his jaw tenses, a shudder coming over him as his hips stutter slightly at even the thought of filling you up. A strained moan escapes him as his buries his head in your neck, muttering your name into the skin before groaning, “Wanna put a baby in you, please.” His voice breaks a little when he pleads, a whine breaking free from his throat.
Your core flushes at the thought, lost in the fantasy as you grind up into him, earning a lewd cry as you tug at his hair softly. He brings his forehead to rest against yours and you nod, a smirk teasing the corners of your lips, “Then do it.”
His expression flares at your words and you feel him throb inside of you. A growl rumbles low in his chest and he plants his hands either side of your face, wasting no time as he begins rutting into you with a ferocity that you thought was impossible. Not once does he avert his gaze from yours, his features painted with an open-mouthed, slack-jawed grin and wild eyes. “Yeah? Gonna, fuck baby- Gonna fucking breed you, make you mine.” He pauses momentarily, pulling all the way out before fucking into you rough and hard, punctuating his thrusts with the words, “All. Fucking. Mine.”
Gojo shifts his weight to one arm effortlessly, the other snaking downwards towards your swollen clit, rubbing small circles as his pace picks back up again. You see stars, mumbling out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. Feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, you start grinding up into his thumb and the extra friction leaves Gojo a moaning mess, brows furrowing and his lip pulled between his teeth.
His thrusts are relentless, pushing you closer and closer to your climax. “My pretty girls gonna look so fucking good with my baby in her belly.” He murmurs mostly to himself, tilting his head like a predator watching it’s prey, observing each of the pretty little expressions you flit between. Gojo’s drunk on the thought of filling you up, mind hazed and dazed with the intoxication of the thought.
“Want me to fill you up baby? Yeah? Want me to- Oh…Ah shit.” You notice his hips begin to stutter, signalling him nearing his peak; you are too, spiralling towards euphoria with every movement of his hips. He applies more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you, your back arches up into him, blinding flashes of white filling your vision as you leave reality is ripped away from you.
Gojo can’t take his eyes off of you, hips snapping animalistically into your heat while he grunts, groans and cries your name. Chasing his own orgasm while he watches yours dissipate; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing his rhythm in the slightest as he makes sure you take each and every drop of him.
Your vision begins to clear when you hear his pretty noises, looking up at him and revelling in the crazed looked in his eyes, obsessive and infatuated. His hips don’t let up, grinding down into your core despite him already finishing inside of you, unable to stop as he whimpers wantonly above you, “Fuck…baby mm- Filled you up so good, look at you, my good fucking girl.”
Once his movements finally slow and his breathing evens out, you move slightly as if to shift away from his length. His hand grabs roughly at your waist and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You think I’m done?” He smirks, chuckling darkly and pressing a kiss to your forehead before slamming into you once again, “That was only the beginning, princess.”
warning: this post includes nsfw content, minors do not interact.
The Captain's formidable nature and cold, callous ways were certainly infamous amongst not only the corps, but all who knew his name. He was unforgiving, ruthless and an expert of his craft: war. Levi was feared amongst his men, even those above him in rank were hesitant to get too close; his aura was one of darkness, a darkness that was to be avoided by most.
That's what made turning Levi into a begging, moaning mess beneath you, all the more enjoyable.
"Please- fuck, I need more..." You watch as his eyes roll back, a particularly lewd whine leaving his lips as you stroke him ever so slowly. Your fingers gently tease the tip as they pass it, swirling under the head and back down to the base. Each movement leaves him more tightly wound, each touch feeling like too much yet not enough at the same time.
Levi's hands are bound by his cravat behind him as he rocks back and forth in his chair, desperately trying to thrust up into your hand for more friction; only to be met with you slowing your pace, much to his dismay. There’s beads of sweat trickling down behind those dark locks, spayed across his forehead. He looks unkempt, much unlike his usual demeanour, his teeth are bared almost as if he’s in pain, brows furrowed upwards and his cheeks a rosy pink.
"If you want more..." You purr, his eyes snapping open at the sound of your voice, "You're gonna have to be a good. Can you do that for me, pretty boy?"
He groans at the term of endearment, pulling his lip between his teeth and nodding desperately. You tilt your head to the side, arching a brow as your hand leaves his cock. The Captain practically whines at the loss of friction, essentially pouting up at you like the insolent brat he is.
"Words, Levi. Come on baby, you can use em, right?" You command lightly, running your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly. Levi's jaw tightens and the soft blush painting his cheeks darkens significantly; the pleasure derived from the pain evident in his expression.
"Shit." His voice is hoarse, strained by the hours of teasing he's endured at your hands. He struggles to string a sentence together, mind hazy with lust, "I'll be good," Levi looks up at you, his intense silver orbs lidded and lips puckered and swollen; his harsh cheekbones look softened as his gaze begs you for more, "I'll be your good boy, just- please- please fucking touch me again."
Your hand returns to his length, pumping faster now as Levi writhes and shivers beneath you; the sound of his scattered breaths and flustered moans fill the room. The noises go straight to your core, intensifying your own arousal.
He tries to fuck into your fist, chasing the feeling that has him whining like a bitch in heat and writhing against his restraints. Levi's eyes flutter closed in his attempt to keep them open, jaw slack and hair messy, gods, how he loves being under your control. He often pondered how a man as demanding as himself could be brought to his knees so very easily; how a certain look from you could have his cock hardening and brain turning to a pile of submissive, slutty mush. Not right now though, the only thing the Captain could think about right now was the feel of your tight, gummy walls clenching around him while you use his cock.
"Fuck me, please-" His words are cut off by a gasp when your fingers dance over the tip, a low growl erupting in his chest afterwards as he attempts to keep his composure, "Please - please baby, wanna make you feel good too." Levi’s whole body is shaking with pure desire, goosebumps painting is pretty porcelain skin.
You comply, stepping back and undressing yourself in front of him. His mouth hangs open, a fire in his dark eyes that burns only for you. Levi tries to steady his breaths, but the sight of your naked form has his breathing staggered and cock twitching. "Gods," He groans, his tongue briefly wetting his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief, "I fucking need you."
Straddling his muscular form, you tease him once more; rubbing yourself against his length and watching as his gaze turns to one of ice. It's only now you see a glimpse of the man he is to everyone else, his expression that of a devil as a growl rips through his throat. Levi's desperation had never been so evident, rutting into you from below at an attempt of slipping inside, biting his lip so hard it looked as if it might tear.
"I swear to fucking god, if you don't- " You finally lower yourself onto his length and his ramblings are cut off by his own lewd whine, brows knitting together in the centre as the look on his face turns to one of pure ecstasy. His mind is swimming in pleasure, drunk off the feeling of your heat around him; he’s looking up at you with so much emotion that it stalls you, lost in his eyes momentarily before proceeding with the task at hand.
Slowly moving yourself up and down on his cock, you bask in the way he's shivering beneath you; his muscular chest rising and falling quickly as his breaths become more uneven. Levi's mumbling an array of praises and thank you's, his tone unrecognisable from the one that barks orders at you during the day. His voice is so soft, so gentle that if someone were to hear the two of you, they would never guess it was humanity’s strongest.
"Use me," Levi's lids squeeze shut briefly before his gaze is locking with yours, swallowing and taking a breath before he begins to beg, "Please, don't...stop. Use me, I’m yours." His eyes are wide, teary and doe like; blinking up at you with his pretty dark lashes.
You increase the speed of your hips, bouncing swiftly on his lap and rolling your body expertly above him. He groans when you pull his head back by his hair, his mouth hanging open and his eyes rolling back once again at the sweet combination of both pain and pleasure. It throws him over the edge unexpectedly and he cries out, "ngh- shit, oh fuck i'm gonna cum."
You smirk and tilt your head condescendingly, pouting a little and taking his jaw in your fingers so your eyes meet, "Can you hold on a little longer for me, hm? I know you can do it, Captain." The use of his title makes him tense up and he nods wildly, his raven locks bouncing as he bobs his head obediently. He squeezes his hands together behind his back as he holds off his impeding orgasm with all his might. He hisses through his teeth, biting down so hard on his lip that he tastes blood in an attempt to stall his ecstasy. You curse when you feel your own climax nearing and Levi's eyes widen at the realisation, a fire blazing in his chest at the thought of making you cum around his cock. He does what he can, rutting his hips up into your sweet spot and whining when he feels you tighten around him, "Please, baby,” Levi begs, his own cock pulsating with the need to fill you up, “I need to feel it - Need to feel you, mmm, ngh- Please, cum, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.”
Seeing Levi like this is as close to heaven as you'll get, the way he moans your name like a mantra and his sinful expression twists with pleasure is truly your nirvana. It sends you over the edge and you see white, blinded by the hot pleasure coursing through your veins. Just before you lose all cognitive thought to the ecstasy, you make sure to order Levi through your moans, "Cum for me, baby boy." You barely finish the command before Levi is filling you up, crying out and shivering uncontrollably beneath you. You’re both lost in the feeling, your mouth open in a silent scream and Levi’s wanton moans bouncing off the walls.
It feels like forever before you both come back down to Earth, your lids fluttering open. Levi's eyes meet with yours and a warm, rare smile spreads across his stony features; his gaze filled with admiration as he shifts his head to kiss your chest, your jaw, your cheeks. “Thank you, love,” He murmurs before pressing his lips lovingly against yours.
