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𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑧𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖 𝑔𝑓 | 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑠 | ୨ৎ | ༻ 𝑖'𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓-𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔/𝑦𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦, 𝑙 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑧𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖 ! 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑐𝑐𝑢𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 ⸝⸝⸝⸝ 🦊

[sourinartt]

my pretty boy ᡣ𐭩

[aquasprings]

୨୧ choso’s just about as pathetic as a man can get. ୨୧

this realization comes to you after gojo begs you to give his friend a chance.

“please,” gojo says, and you scowl at him. “he’s nice. and i’m pretty sure he has a massive thing for you.”

“me?” you ask, incredulous. “i’ve never talked to him in my life.”

gojo sighs, flopping back onto your couch. “if i ever, like, loosely mention you in conversation, i swear he blushes.”

that’s how you end up in the living room of the frat friday night. loud, warm, the air slightly hazy.

choso right beside you on the couch, barely looking at you at first, all hunched shoulders and quiet glances, dark hair brushing his neck, dermal piercing catching the light every time he nervously shifts.

yeah, you think, he’s cute.

you end up sharing a joint, and that’s when you notice how he freezes every time your fingers brush his, how his breath hitches. it’s not subtle. not even a little. and when you lean a bit closer, knee nudging his, he almost drops it. across the room, gojo and the others are already smirking like they know exactly how this is going to go.

they don’t even try to hide it when they leave. gojo claps choso on the shoulder, says something low that makes his ears turn red, and suddenly it’s just the two of you on that worn-out couch, the music muffled now, the air heavier.

choso apologizes. for his friends, for himself.

you remember thinking how easy it is to get a reaction out of him. how all it takes is a hand on his chest, a soft question, and he’s unraveling right in front of you.

he nods at everything, says yes too quickly like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he hesitates. when he slips and said “please,” you know you have him.

“d’you like me, cho?” you murmur with glassy eyes, hand sliding up his collar and pressing against his nape, fingers deftly threading through inky hair.

“g—yes. yes, so much,” he exhales, voice shaking slightly as you pull him closer to you.

“wanna fuck?” you whisper, straddling yourself on his lap and relishing in the small, broken sound he makes when your glossed lips suckle at the junction of his neck.

“here? now?” his eyes bugger wide, hands squeezing your waist as your lips trail up, and up, and up, until you’re sliding your tongue in his mouth, bracketing your lips against his, swallowing his needy little moans.

he pants into your mouth as your hands pull at his hoodie and he shrugs it off wordlessly, cheeks flushed as your eyes trail down the milky expanse of his chest.

“pretty,” you murmur, and he whines, hands frozen at his sides when you slip your shorts off and toss them to the side.

“as much as i wanna feel your mouth on me,” you breathe, pupils blown, “i need to feel you in me. now. yeah?”

“y—yeah,” he shudders, hands fisting the couch beside him nervously as you tug his jeans and boxers down mid-thigh, his cock beading precum as it aches towards his stomach.

“i—ohmygod,” he slurs, whimper being pulled from his throat as you sink down on him in one shot. “please—”

“haven’t even done anything,” you say, hands locking onto his shoulders as you lift your hips slowly before dropping them back down, the motion making choso buck up desperately and moan into your neck.

“m not gonna last,” he whines pathetically, and you sneer, telling him to be good for you or you’ll stop.

you think it’s 30 seconds before he’s cumming, head falling back against the couch with a strangled sound.

he whimpers when you ask him which direction his bedroom’s in.

[rissouu]

an eater, I NEED HER

boyfriend!higuruma baby traps you… on accident.

⚚ when higuruma’s boss called him late notice, and told him he had a case that would last twelve days, he nearly ripped his own hair out. how the hell would he survive being away from you for that long? he didn’t even like taking too long using the bathroom for fucks sake, always afraid of missing any word you said.

at some point he started a habit of taking you in there with him, making you sit on the sink and continue your yap sessions while he did what he needed to. part of him seriously thought about stuffing you in his briefcase to come along whenever work called.

many of your friends were concerned with how clingy he was.. and the amount of aggression he’d show when he couldn’t be, but you quickly waved them off. higuruma just loved you so much! maybe a lot more than the average person should, but you didn’t mind it, which is why you always rushed to his defense.

higuruma was flattered you were so protective of him, but your friends really weren’t wrong to be worried, he was downright obsessed with you. everyone could see it but you.

guilt washed over him constantly— here you were thinking he was the best boyfriend in the world, but mostly the guy was just a selfish over thinker. what if someone tried taking his place beside you while it was empty?

oh helllll no.

“aht keep your hands off baby,” his low voice was soothing but it had a slight sternness to it. your legs wrapped around his waist while you were pinned in a mating press, forced to feel every inch of him.

“if you push me again, ‘m gonna have to spank my princess. y’want that angel? hmm?”

you started drooling when your eyes locked on his droopy ones, he hadn’t stopped staring and it was driving you quite insane. you couldn’t stop your hands that instinctively started pushing him again, “ngh- hiro! n..need you s’bad!”

the smack that followed was loud, and your clit was stinging before you could even process what had happened. “cmonn pretty don’t be bad please, i leave soon. please?”

something about his begging had your walls squeezing him even more. higuruma leaned down, tucking his head into your neck to the point his lips grazed your ear.

you were babbling a bunch of nonsense but it sounded damn near poetic to him. he could listen to you for hours.

“daddy’s gonna miss you soo much princess. s..so much-” his whispers slowly turned into whimpers, every sound only pushed you further over the edge. “w..will you miss me? tell me please, need to hear you..”

“im g..gonna- mm- miss you too! always miss youuu!” you couldn’t believe you were slurring out words like this. and it was even harder to believe that he actually understood them.

his free hand crept down your thigh— only stopping once it got to your foot, kissing the heel before putting your white toes to his lips.

he was silent aside from a few grunts, and when higuruma got quiet it never meant anything good. it meant he was up to something.

the man started thinking about not pulling out. the thought came on a whim and it kept growing the more he looked at your fucked out face.

would you be mad? maybe try to leave him? well, its not like he’d ever let you do a silly thing like that.

he couldn’t have you going anywhere, or ever try to walk out on him. you’d already agreed to be his forever, what’s the harm in a little extra precaution? you did always love nanami’s kids..

“need to m..make you a mama, yeah? get you all filled with my babies, walking ‘round with that belly, showing everybody you’re mine- shit shit.” you nearly cut the circulation off in his shaft when you heard his words.

he chuckled low and rubbed your pudge, imagining all the ways your body would fill in while carrying part of him. “i see my pretty pussy likes the idea… now 'm just waiting on my pretty girl.”

when he slapped your thigh you knew he wanted an answer. in an instant you nodded mindlessly— not caring much about anything besides his tip that brushed against your womb. or the fat thumb that circled your clit with purpose. “ohhh my goshh yes! i want it, want my baby, pleasee!”

eh.. you really shouldn’t have told him that.

©rissouu 2026

masterlist. taglist.

[kill3ill]

choso has a fat dick ⦂ 18+

choso's never been quite fond of his cock.

he's obviously started watching porn, but finds himself confused by how different his looks compared to the men in the clips. most are nice and proportionate to their bodies, some long and lithe, some shorter, but none as thick and heavy as his. why are his balls sticking to the inside of his thighs when it gets hot? why is his cock so heavy that he walks slower than other men? he hates it.

when he sees bigger sizes being praised online he figures they don't mean him. because his cock isn't just big, it's heavy, fat, swings when he walks, and takes up all the space in his boxers. he can't even find a sex doll for him to fuck that'll withstand his size. he's torn through all of them.

how is he ever going to be in a relationship?

when you started liking him, choso had forgotten all about the monstrosity in his underwear and got all caught up in your flirtations. he's never had someone as beautiful as you pay so much attention to him. you're one of yuji's friends from college that's staying at their house for the summer. you include him on your outings with yuji, get him little gifts you say reminded you of him, call him pretty and trace his tattoos with your hands... it all has his brain melting into goo. he only remembers that he's a freak when you're sat on the couch with him sitting on the floor between your legs during movie night, and you're scratching his scalp lightly with your fingertips.

the slow, repeated motion has his cock twitching and slowly rising in his pants, giving an especially hard throb when you tug his hair gently and squish your thighs around him. your hole is close enough to his nose for him to smell you, the sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.

he doesn't notice how bad it looks until his cock is fully stood up in his shorts, and he looks down, seeing the huge tent in his trousers and pushes his hands over it, stumbling to his feet. the quick, sudden movements making him dizzy. "i t-think i left my computer on upstairs" he mumbles, pushing down on his cock and praying you can't see how hard he is. you look up at him through long lashes and tilt your head, giving him a look that's disastrously similar to one you'd probably make if you sucked him off. it has him starting to leak an embarrassing amount.

with a yelp, he rushes upstairs before you can see the mess he's made of himself. he's so disoriented that he accidentally finds himself in the guest room, the one you're currently using, instead of his. and it's heaven. all your little trinkets everywhere, your scent stuck in the room... he dumps himself face first on the bed and buries his face into the pillow you're using, inhaling deeply and starting to hump the mattress through his shorts.

his cock is so swollen, even fatter and more sensitive than normal, and his hip rolls are slow and heavy as he grinds down onto the cushy duvet, inhaling large gusts of your shampoo and lotion from the pillow and imagining he's grinding on you instead. soft, sweet, pretty you. he's so obsessed with you. and you like him too, he knows it... how will he fit his cock in you when the time finally comes for him to fuck you?

"mngh... s-shit-" he groans into the pillow, strings of saliva coating it from his parted lips. he hasn't had feelings like this for another person for as long as he can remember, and imagining you being able to take all of him has his brain completely messed up.

choso pants your name and reaches down to cup his balls through his thin shorts, massaging the heavy mounds as more precum shoots out of his tip and leaks onto your mattress. he wonders if you've touched yourself on this bed too. maybe you touched yourself to him- "oh ff-fuck-" he chokes out, tearing his pants off and grinding his cock raw on your mattress, his fat cock now bare to the cool air of the room and to anyone that could walk in...

"choso, are you in my room? i've been looking for you everywhere! why have you been gone so long? yuji told me to come check on-"

you barge into the room unceremoniously and look at choso rubbing his huge dick on your bed, leaking cum everywhere out of his thick, flushed tip and sniffing your pillow.

"oh my gosh."

he tries to get up quickly, but he's so dazed and his orgasm was ruined and his poor cock hurts so much... he can't stop what he's doing, continuing to hump your bed while looking at you with huge, glossy eyes. "ne- hic- need help, please..." he begs, lips parted as a moan bubbles out of him.

you'd be completely grossed out if this were anyone else in the world sneaking into your room and getting off to you like this, but you know choso. he's so sweet and gentle, and if he got this desperate, you know he must've been wanting you for a long time. you pause by the door. "h-how do you want me to help you?"

he sniffles and pouts up at you. "i wanna do this to you instead..." he says, reaching a hand out for you.

slowly, you approach him, and he makes quick work of tugging you under him. he parts your legs and lines his bare cock up with your clotched hole, starting to grind down on you while panting and looking straight into your eyes.

you gasp at the pleasure erupting through you as he starts to grind down on you. the friction is delicious, and his weight on top of you allows for firmer pressure of your crotches against one another. from this angle, you can look down proper and see if his dick really was as big as it felt, and you gasp at the huge, thick flesh pressing into you.

choso whimpers and frantically kisses you to distract you from gaping at his cock. "please don't look at it," he moans against your mouth, enjoying how good you taste. somehow it's even better than you smell, and he can't resist sliding his tongue past your lips and tangling your tongue with his as he humps you. " 's big and ugly."

he never thought he'd be fortunate enough to do this, but here he is, grinding on and kissing his crush, and all he needed to do was ask. you're nearly distracted by kissing him, but you catch on to his words of insecurity and pull away, panting. "that's not- ah, true, choso. your cock is mnh! nice..."

he perks up, getting overexcited by your praise and moans and squirming. he grabs your hips and tugs off your bottoms, lifting you up and rubbing himself against your naked hole. "yeah?" he pants. "you like it? ugh, 'm so close..."

you mewl each time his wet tip notches partially in your hole then slips out, offering a momentary stretch before he returns to humping you. "c-can i cum on you?" he whines, rubbing you on his dick and maneuvering your body in his big hands. "please... i like you so much, i want you to smell like me-"

"y-yeah... f-fuck, you can put it in me if you want to, too." you gasp as he pushes just a little bit inside again and pulls out, returning to rubbing against you sloppily.

he whines, not wanting to reject your offer, but knowing he'll probably never fit inside you. the thought of stretching you out again and having you cry and squirm on his dick if he buried himself inside you all the way has his vision going white, and his eyes roll as he shoots hot ropes of cream all over your tummy, with you following right after.

as you cum together, choso bends down and kisses you hard once more, dumping his body on yours and practically slurping on your tongue. he's getting all excited again and doesnt notice you grabbing his half-hard cock at the base, starting to slowly push it inside you...

see more in my jjk masterlist

see more in my main masterlist

keep this fic alive by reblogging it and commenting if you loved it!

[marssismar]

NERDJO & FRATJO TWITTER LINKS

nerdjo

its his first time and he cant stop

guiding him through it

you two end up in the bathroom after you tease him throughout class

hes much bigger than you thought

hes a tit guy

hes supposed to be studying for his exam

hes a virgin... yet very skilled with his fingers

fratjo

hes an impatient fucker

cant have your roommate hearing you

he'll fuck you anywhere

you swear its over, but you always end up back in his bed anyway

waking you up

he hates to be interrupted when hes eating

hes an ass guy

his type of foreplay

[sazustarz]

pervert roommie!choso who waits until your shower steam is thick enough to hide the sound of his palm slapping against his cock. door cracked just enough. he’s got your worn sleep shirt balled up over his nose, inhaling the spot right under your armpit where your scent clings strongest, groaning low when the cotton drags over his leaking tip

pervert roommie!choso who “accidentally” forgets to lock the bathroom after he jerks off so you walk in on the mess he left. pearlescent ropes still dripping down the shower tile, his boxers kicked into the corner like evidence. he stands there towel low on his hips, pretending to be surprised, voice cracking when he mumbles “shit… didn’t hear you come in”

pervert roommie!choso who steals your dirty panties from the hamper and stuffs them in his pocket before you do laundry. later that night he’s thrusting into his fist with the lace crushed against his tongue, tasting the damp cotton where you were wet earlier that day. he cums so hard his thighs shake and he has to bite his own arm to keep quiet

pervert roommie!choso who starts leaving the living room tv on porn channels at 3 a.m. knowing you’ll stumble out sleepy and confused in nothing but that tiny tank top. he’s sprawled on the couch, sweats tented obscenely, eyes half-lidded when you freeze in the doorway. “couldn’t sleep,” he rasps, hand already palming himself through the fabric, “wanna watch with me?”

pervert roommie!choso who corners you in the kitchen at midnight while you’re reaching for a glass. presses his whole front to your back, fat cock already rock-hard against your ass. he doesn’t even pretend it’s an accident anymore. instead just grinds slow and heavy while his mouth finds your ear. “been smellin’ you all day… fuck, you’re soaked through these shorts, aren’t ya?”

pervert roommie!choso who finally snaps after weeks of teasing. pins both your wrists above your head with one massive hand, other yanking your panties to the side. he’s shaking, pupils blown, throat dry. “m’ sorry— m’ so fucking sorry b-but i can’t— need inside— been dreaming a-about this pussy every night—” then he’s bullying his way in with one desperate thrust, choking on a sob the second your walls flutter around him.

pervert roommie!choso who turns into a babbling mess the moment he bottoms out. hips stuttering, forehead pressed to your shoulder, whimpering against your neck. “s’ too tight— fuck— gonna cum already— d-don’t move— please don’t move or m’ gonna lose it—” but he’s already fucking you stupid, sloppy and frantic, drooling down your collarbone while he chants your name like a prayer.

pervert roommie!choso who keeps going even after he fills you up once. pulls out just to watch his cum leak out, then pushes back in with a broken moan. “look— look how much i gave you… still not enough— need to breed it deeper— fuck— m’ gonna keep going til you’re dripping for days”

| home | index | a/n: i know its shorttt js got over being sick but i hope u like our lil perv choso

[an9els]

𝜗𝜚 gamer!choso gets the gawk gawk under his desk and thinks he can keep gaming through it (he can’t) . . .

( mdni. cw: oral (m. rec), riding, praise kink, subby!choso, messy kisses, overstim, size kink if u squint )

the plan wasn’t to suck him off.

well— maybe it was. you had walked into his room in your softest little sleep shorts, the ones he always stares at like they offend him personally, dragging a finger across his back with a “what game are you playing?” even though you couldn’t care less about it. and you had dropped to your knees between his legs before he even processed you were crawling under the desk like a stray cat.

but now that you’re down here, arms curled around his thighs like you live there, the plan is very much in motion. and choso’s suffering.

he tries, okay? he tries so hard to keep his eyes locked on the screen, to keep his mic etiquette in check and not absolutely fold when you mouth at the tip of his cock over his sweats.

he clears his throat, tugs the mic closer. “nah, i’m good- i’m just, uh, i’m chillin’. just ate.”

you bite back a laugh against him. oh he’s eating alright.

you pop the band of his sweats just enough to free him, the head flushed and leaking, fat and heavy on your tongue when you wrap your lips around him. he twitches when you sink lower, when you suck slow and mean, letting spit pool under your tongue so it drips down your chin. he sounds like he might actually cry.

his hand comes down to pet your head, gentle at first. maybe he’s hoping to ground himself. maybe he just needs to touch something, you, to remind himself this is real.

and he still tries to play it cool. “yo, that was a crazy shot,” he says, voice tight like he’s holding something back, the words riding a breathless whimper. “s-sorry, lagged for a sec.”

you moan around him, slow and low, and he bucks into your mouth. idiot. rookie mistake.

“fuck,” he hisses, voice muffled. and then into the mic: “nah, not you- just stubbed my toe.”

he’s so bad at lying it’s almost cute.

you let your nails drag softly over his thighs as you hollow your cheeks and take him deep, until he’s halfway down your throat and gripping the edge of the desk like it’s a lifeline. he’s flushed to the tips of his ears. voice shaking. thighs twitching. his game’s already over and he’s still pretending like he’s playing, bless his heart ;(

you pull off with a slick ‘pop’, spit clinging to your lips. “you gonna cum already, baby?” you whisper, and his whole body shudders.

he nods— then remembers where he is and shakes his head frantically instead. “n-no, just- gimme one sec- i just—”

but it’s too late. you know the exact rhythm that ruins him. he melts under your tongue, cock twitching while you jerk him through it, messy and warm and trembling, one hand clapped over his mic while he whimpers into his headset as if the world is ending.

he barely remembers to log off. stammers something like “ggs” and slams his laptop shut the moment he’s softening, eyes wide, chest heaving like he ran a fucking marathon.

and then he looks at you, and there’s that familiar switch— you know the one.

because now that he’s not being watched, he can be yours again. not the composed one, not the focused one— just soft, flushed, pussydrunk choso, so sweet it makes your heart ache.

“c’mere,” he mumbles, pulling you into his lap. his arms go everywhere— your waist, your thighs, your face, like he can’t pick just one spot. he’s still so hard it’s insane.

“you were so mean to me,” he says, breathless. “you’re evil.”

“mm, i know.” you kiss his cheek. “gonna let me ride you to make up for it?”

he nods so fast it’s pathetic. “please.”

and god, he’s so big. thick and heavy and already sensitive, the head sliding against your folds as you sink down slowly, both of you moaning when you take him to the base. his hands find your hips instantly, pulling you down harder. his head falls back, mouth open, hair falling into his face.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” you whisper against his lips. “my pretty boy.”

he whines.

you set a slow rhythm, grinding more than bouncing, and he’s gripping your ass like he’ll die if you stop. his hips twitch up into you— once, twice— before you pin him down by the chest.

“no moving,” you warn. “just let me use you.”

his eyes flutter. “o-okay.”

you kiss him while you ride him, messy and deep, tongues tangled while he moans into your mouth like he needs it. and the whole time, his hands are still all over you— palming your tits, dragging down your spine, gripping your thighs, stroking your face, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

he’s so close it’s painful. you can feel it.

“baby, baby i’m- fuck, i’m gonna cum again—”

“go ahead.” you lick into his mouth. “cum for me, cho.”

and he does. with a loud, broken moan and his arms wrapped tight around you, cumming so hard it almost hurts, hips bucking uncontrollably as you ride him through it.

after, you kiss his flushed cheeks, his red ears, the space between his brows. his lashes flutter. he looks dazed.

“you alive?” you murmur.

he nods. kind of.

“barely.”

[pillsatoru]

A FEVER YOU CANT SWEAT OUT - INTRODUCTION

synopsis ꩜ the cute emo boy from your college is completely enamored with you and your pretty outfits, so when he hears you and your shitty boyfriend finally broke up, he wastes no time in planning how to make you his.

pairing ˎˊ˗ emo! choso x girly! reader

warning / tags ⟢ fem! reader, MDNI 18+, this will be a bit angsty, yuki is ooc here, cheating, miscommunication, friends to lovers, inappropriate use of drum sticks, blowjobs, pussy eating, hair pulling, subby choso, yes he will whimper, fluff, tba… header art by @/arina_vah

series masterlist 〢 no the taglist isn’t open pls don’t ask

Club rush could count as Choso's favorite holiday. If it was a holiday.

What better way to kick off the school year other than joining the one and only music club that he's been leading for the past 2 years, right? Incoming freshmen or returning students could bond over instruments and emo culture.

"Yo, pass me that vinyl." Suguru pointed to the protected record. The table had been set up with music ranging from "Brand New Eyes" to "Pretty. Odd."

Choso handed it over to his friend carefully, watching as he sat it carefully up. Other students were putting up their booths as well. Some were under canopy tents to protect them from the summer sun.

"I'm fucking sweating like a pig." Choso rasped out, pinning his neck length hair up in two buns. "Told ya we should've bought a canopy."

"With what money, dude." Suguru took a step back, admiring their set up. "Where's Sukuna? He was supposed to print out the flyers an hour ago."

Just on cue, the pink haired boy reached the other two, papers in hand. "Got 'em." He held the papers up.

"How many did you print out?" Choso grabbed them from Sukuna's hand, seeing how the design came out.

"Couple dozen. When does this shit start? I got to pick up my brother from school today."

"Ain't he in high school? He can go on the bus." Suguru snatched a flyer from Choso's hand. "You didn't get them in color?!"

Sukuna frowned, slipping his box of cigarettes in his back pocket. "Hell nah. It was like a dollar extra."

"It's whatever," Choso interrupted. The last he needed was his two bandmates getting into an argument. "People are starting to come." Soon enough, a crowd began to form around the quad, students visiting the booths of interest.

You walked around with you low heels clicking on the ground. Definitely not the best choice of attire but it was you. A vintage Von Dutch purse was sat right on your shoulder, swinging with every step.

"Whatever happened to the fashion club?" You asked between chewing your bubble gum. Shoko lifted her head from her phone, confused at your question. "Girl, you made them disband. Remember?"

You let out an 'ohhh' as if you found out mind blowing news.

"Not my fault they were so poorly uneducated on Vivienne Westwood. Did they seriously have the audacity to ignore the fact that she was punk? What the hell were they on about saying that the brand was for clean girlies? Ummm hellooooo?" You raised a brow that was recently threaded.

"Right.. anyways." Shoko looked around, eyes setting on the medical club. "I'll be right back, I have to go sign up."

You nodded, blowing a goodbye kiss.

There weren't any new organizations this year that you know of other than the one your ex boyfriend was apart of. The sight of him just made you want to role your eyes.

The asshole had broken up with you over text and is going around saying you were the one who broke up with him.

Like, who the hell even does that?

You pushed yourself deeper into the crowd, making your way towards the heart of the quad.

"Music club is over here guys!" Choso yelled out as he handed people flyers. "We will be meeting on the second Monday of every month. Feel free to recommend us to your friends!"

Usually, you'd ignore anything that has to do with music. Not your forte.

But the washed out print on his shirt caught your eye.

A Fever You Can't Sweat Out.

That's the album you listened to non stop in your high school years. Your iPod was full with every version of it. The original, the demos, and even Live in Denver.

You listened to it so ofter that it burned onto the screen.

"Cool shirt." The words slipped from your mouth, surprising both you and Choso.

Because no way was a girl like you complimenting a boy like him. And over his shirt out of all things. "Uh, thanks." He stuttered, a crooked smile creeping on his lips.

He darted down to the papers in his hands, offering one to you.

You hesitated before accepting it. "Music club?"

Choso nodded. "Yeah, we mostly focus on emo music to be honest but we're always open to do other genres." God was he sweating? It felt like he was. Have you noticed? "You a Panic fan?"

You hummed, skimming through the small summary of the club. "Not really, just of that album. Well not anymore but high school me."

"No way. I mean, um, you have a favorite song?"

"I guess I liked Camisado."

"Oh shit, I love that one." Choso's eyes brightened. "You know the story behind it?"

You snorted. "Duh."

The way you spoke was soft and pretty to him, it made his heart beat like a teenagers.

"I'm Choso.." He mumbled.

"Hi Choso." You smiled up at him, exchanging your name as well. "I'll try and come."

He nodded, gulping. "We'll see you then.." His eyes stayed on your frame as you disappeared almost in a trance at the sway of your hips. "Suguru." He hit his friends' chest. "Fuck did you see that?"

"See what?"

"The goddess that just came up to me."

"Is the heat getting to you man?" Suguru pressed his hand on Choso's forehead, feeling the thin layer of sweat before hurling away in disgust.

"Surprised you didn't scare her away."

Choso smacked his shoulder playfully, returning back to distributing the flyers like the local newspaper. That dorky smile still evident on his face.

That was yesterday though.

And Choso hasn't shut up about you since.

"Do you think she'll actually show up to the meetings?" He ran the brush through his hair, undoing any knots made while sleeping. His broad chest was bare, showcasing all his tattoos. And not to mention the nipple piercings.

Sukuna groaned along with Suguru. "Bro, let it go already. Just cause she spoke to you for less than a minute-"

"It was over a minute, actually." Choso corrected.

"It doesn't matter. No offense man, but you're not her type. She dated Toji and they recently broke up. Doubt that she's already trying to get into another relationship."

Suguru yawned, standing up to grab another beef from the mini fridge.

"But ay, maybe you can change her."

A sigh fell from Choso's lips, feeling all of a sudden unmotivated. "She's so pretty."

"What would you even do if she did end up showing up? Woo her with your guitar skills?"

Choso paused.

"I mean.. yeah?"

Another collective groan escaped from the other two.

a/n - short chapter to start things off ! the rest of the chapters are gonna be longer lolz

[pillsatoru]

your boyfriend was a pretty lanky guy.

his diet consisted of instant noodles and energy drinks to keep him going during his atrocious study hours. satoru never had the time to go out to the gym, or secretly do little workouts in the comfort of his dorm.

until summer break came.

now, he was stuffing his face full of protein and healthy fats and what used to be skin and bones, was now all muscles.

and you were eating it up.

"hi baby!" you stuck your head inside his room, holding a plate of avocado toast. "brought you lunch."

satoru turned his chair around to face you, smiling softly at the thought of you going out of your way to make him food according to his diet. "oh, thank you pretty. you shouldn't have."

"it's no biggie!" you set the plate down in front of him where his monitor was, displaying his newly bought digimon game.

you'd gladly cook for him as many times as he needed if it meant seeing him like this.

he was shirtless, showing off his biceps and little tummy rolls.

satoru moaned as he chewed on the toast. "so good baby."

"yeah?" you leaned down to peck his cheek, lingering just to keep admiring his toned back. "you're so handsome."

"I look like a chud." he murmured.

"a smoking hot one." you repeatedly kissed his lips, tasting the avocado left behind. satoru's hands shifted to the small of your back, bringing to in closer to him.

a hum could be heard deep in his throat. "what's going on. you're never this clingy."

"just want to show my boyfriend how much I love him."

"right.." he chuckled, squeezing your waist. "it doesn't have anything to do with my sudden weight gain, correct?"

of course he took notice of your sudden behavior.

you weren't that slick with it. he could practically feel the way your eyes burned into his skin.

"maybe."

-

satoru put his whole weight on you, hugging you from behind as he lined his cock up with your entrance.

"you like that?"

you nodded, whining as the tip slid easily in. his lips found their way to the crook of your neck, biting lightly at it. "that's it. take all of it."

your hand reached to grab his forearm when he thrusted in. satoru groaned, pushing harder until he bottomed out.

did his dick get bigger as well?

your screams were muffled by the pillow beneath you, each one pitching higher from how brutal he was plummeting. "fucking hell." he gritted out. "gonna fill this pretty cunt up so good."

his beefy arm wrapped itself around your neck, giving him better grip.

"satoru!" you gasped, feeling him still. his hips began grinding in rough circular motions, shooting ever last drop into you.

no matter how many times you fucked, satoru was the one to finish quickly.

the first time, he barely managed to last a minute.

your body trembled, not catching a break because he immediately began going at it again.

"think my fingers also got thicker.. wanna test it out?"

@fricks @chloeee20 @cupidtoji @kyrsse @amooorette @nootnoos @simscollectoratdawn @artbligh @lisabelhyhn @ssrist @sovaintilla @luvleixo @vanillaapples @ilymooongo @vegasbabyyyy @satoruyearner @chosos-prettyprincess @liliavhg @thinkshespretty

@lovelychiron @ariime2 @eatmyasspiritss @satorugojolover0784 @linkhyliaswife8 @yvannaille @aominesmuse @matchahh

[satoskii]

your nerdy fuckbuddy gojo has a tongue piercing?!?

“gojo—“ you said. “pause. stop.” you added, pulling his head up, away from your pussy. normally, you’d never stop him. ever. he pushed his slightly fogged up glasses up the bridge of his nose, and then spoke, his tone quiet and worried. “wh—what’s wrong? did— does it not feel good? a—am i going too fa—“ you shook your head quickly, and then sat up on your forearms.

“no, no, of course not— it’s .. i dunno. something feels.. weird. sort of.. cold.” you spoke, feeling sort of uncertain and deluded. you had never felt this feeling when he ate you out. you grabbed his chin lightly, and then thumbed at his lips. “do you have ice in your mouth or something?” you asked.

“uh—no..? but.. i.. can if you’d like that?” he said, looking up at you with a worried expression on his face. as he spoke, though, you noticed something shining in his mouth. “open your mouth.” you ordered. and he did so. quicker than you’d expected. he stuck his tongue out, and you gasped. “when did you get that?” you said, staring at the metal ball on his tongue.

“um.. a few days ago. i lost a bet with my brother.” he said, scratching his head and looking away, almost like he was embarrassed. “your brother.. the one in the fraternity?” you asked. “that’s the one.” he confirmed. wasn’t too far off from him. you’ve met him before— saturo. the sleazy, disgustingly sexy yet dangerous frat boy. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want him.

“hm.” you said quietly. “do you like it?” he whispered, going back down so his nose was level with your cunt. “does it make you feel good?” he said, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh. he gave you a long, slow lick, from your hole to your clit, not breaking eye contact. “when i got it done,” he said quietly, giving your clit a sweet kiss, and snaking his arms around your thighs to hold you down, so you wouldn’t twitch so much. “i couldn’t stop thinking of you. i was so excited to use it on you..” he murmured against you.

he reached up his hand, dragging his middle finger and ring fingers from your clit, down to circle around your hole, and then finally, inserting them in. he leaned up to you, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek, then another against your ear as he fingered you. “satoru—“ you moaned, watching as his fingers disappeared in and out of you. you bit your lip, and then he leaned down to capture your lips, wasting no time to use his tongue.

his tongue circled yours, and you moaned at the taste of yourself, and the feeling of his metal on your tongue. “i lost the bet on purpose.” he whispered against your lips. “i overheard you talking about guys with tongue piercings, and..” he said softly, giving your lips a chaste peck, his thumb moving up to work your clit as he fingered you. “i got jealous. jealous that you potentially didn’t have me in mind.” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “i wanted nothing more than for you to experience this. nothing more than for you to use me for as long as you want to.” he said, his tone almost whiny as he pleaded.

“please,” he whimpered. “use me. i’m yours.”

© satoskii 2026 ─────────

a/n : HI GUYS SO MUCH SUPPORT ON MY LAST NERDJO DRABBLE IM GEEKED. thank u guys sm im cheesing real hard. thought id feed you guys a bit more!

[ak319]

Lovesick bubbly hubby x fem reader

ミ☆ Slice of Life

♥︎ Syno: Narin and you had a baby, and it's a boy! ♥︎ Warnings: bxg but matriarchal themes e.g. mpreg mentions! Fluff and lots of it and a bit of spice too..;) ♥︎ previous

If someone had told Narin how different his life would be now, he would pause, blink, and then smile. Because they’d be absolutely right.

In the small moments carved out of his busy routine, as your dearest, only, and unquestionably prettiest husband of the century, and now, as a papa too, Narin finds himself glowing. He’s the proud father of the cutest baby alive: Mylo. Your son. His son. A perfect blend of everything he finds magical in this world. From this marriage to the beautiful home you’ve built together, Narin can’t stop thanking God.

Even his parents, especially his father, noticed a subtle shift in him, something like maturity. Narin, the boy who once barely finished assignments on time, now insists on knowing every detail about how to feed Mylo, how to burp him, how to swaddle him just right, how to lull him to sleep, and still find time to cook your favorite meals.

You and his parents have gently suggested hiring a maid, just to ease the pressure.

But Narin? Absolutely not.

"Are you kidding!? A MAID!? What if he flirts with you!? What if he tries to seduce you while I’m in the nursery, elbow-deep in diaper duty? DON'T EVER SAY THAT!" he’d shriek and break stuff, already imagining dramatic betrayal scenarios.

No stranger was stepping into this home. This sanctuary. His wife, his baby, his perfect little life, he was going to protect it with every inch of glittery, sleep-deprived resolve he had.

Speaking of...

🍭 "Do I look fat? Have I changed a lot? Have I lost the baby weight or no-"

"My little angel, cupcake, you’re perfect as alwa-"

"YOU ALWAYS SAY THAT!"

And there come the tears.

As if cradling Mylo and keeping him quiet wasn’t enough already. One wrong movement and that baby will erupt. Two crying babies? Definitely not what you signed up for after coming home completely knackered.

"I say that 'cause it’s true, babe!"

"Oh really?! Then why did your brother TAUNT me about-"

"I told you to ignore what my family says! Why do you always listen to them-"

Insert loud wailing from Mylo.

Perfect timing.

"Shh, it's okay. Your father is just having a moment-"

"EXCUSE ME?!"

Oh no.

His routine is even more exciting for him now! From you cuddling them both in the morning for at least an hour, showering your boys with kisses, to him getting himself and Mylo ready before you come back from work-

Absolute heaven.

And do you think that after having a baby, he lost his own flair? That cunning, minxy flair? Think again.

🍭 He leans back into your chest as you cuddle him closer, your arms wrapped around him and Mylo nestled peacefully on his lap. Narin hums softly, inhaling the familiar scent of his beauty products and the sweet, distinct baby smell clinging to Mylo’s blanket.

"How’s work going, Coco? I hate seeing you… work yourself this much…" he murmurs, his fingers absentmindedly stroking Mylo’s tiny sock-covered foot. But you...

You weren't listening. Too busy nuzzling his neck and stpping yourself from devouring him right then and there.

"I mean, I get it, you’re amazing and a hard working woman, wife and all, but maybe... maybe just lie down here? Just for a bit? On me?" he whispers, tilting his head back to look at you with those wide, pleading eyes. "I promise I won’t move. Not even a twitch."

The way he's acting all meek--God, he's gonna get it.

He shifts slightly so the blanket covers your legs too. "I even warmed your favorite one. See? I planned this nap. It’s romantic."

Then, a pause.

"...Unless you’re leaving again. Are you leaving again?" His voice wobbles, and his lower lip starts to jut out, slowly, dramatically.

That pout. That ridiculous, practiced, award-winning househusband pout.

If you even hint at standing up, he’ll clutch your sleeve like a Victorian widower watching his love go off to war.

"Mhm...who said anything bout' leaving, mhm?."

You shift slightly behind him, your chin resting on his shoulder, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

"Y’know," you murmur, "for someone who says he’s too tired for anything but naptime, you sure know how to trap me under a warm blanket like you’ve got an agenda."

Narin gasps, actually gasps, his hand flying to his chest like you accused him of a crime.

"Excuse me?! I’m a sweet, innocent papa trying to get his hardworking wife to nap! How dare you-"

You trail a finger down the curve of his waist, slow enough to make him shiver.

"Mmhm. Innocent, huh? That why you keep wearing those silk pajama pants around me like you don’t know what they do to my self-control?" You gave the side of his hip a firm swat.

Narin’s cheeks go red immediately, cherry blossom red.

"Th-they’re just comfy! And breathable! And postpartum-friendly!” he stammers, clutching Mylo like a tiny shield. "Besides, I-I don’t control how good I look in them, okay?!”

You smirk against his neck. "Sure you don’t."

He lets out a tiny squeak, torn between wanting to argue and silently bask in the fact that you’re still that into him, he keeps fussing over, and the fact that he hasn’t done his skincare routine in two days.

You hum against his skin, and then, without warning, press a slow, deliberate kisses to the side of his neck. Just below his ear. Right where you know it’ll make him flinch and curl his toes.

Narin freezes.

You feel his whole body tense in your arms, his breath catching in his throat like a cartoon character short-circuiting.

"H-Hey… hey-C-coco…" he whines, his voice high and wobbly. “You c-can’t just-! I’m holding the baby!"

Ignoring him, you kiss him again softly on his neck, biting in between.

His head tips back against your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted in surrender.

“You missed me?” he breathes out.

You grin. "Of course...so much, my doll...."

Another kiss, this time to his cheek, and then one right at the corner of his mouth. His fingers curl tightly around Mylo’s blanket like it’s the only thing keeping him from completely melting.

You finally press a rougher kiss to his lips full of passion to shut his quiet whining. He doesn’t even move at first, just sighs into it like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, letting you bite and suck his pouty plump, fruity lips.

When you pull back, he’s blinking up at you with that dazed, heart-eyed look.

"…Okay," he says, dreamy and breathless. "Maybe I do have an agenda."

Damn right he always did, from the moment you stepped in the house, with your sleeves rolled up and the loose tie.

But of course, this little vixen of yours would see your child as a perfect tool to manipulate you. Like, duh. As if groveling to him alone wasn’t humiliating enough, now you’ve got two people to apologize to: one with dramatic eyeliner and the other in a fluffy cat onesie. And honestly? It scares you. The way Narin can just pack a bag and threaten to take Mylo to his parents’ place the second he’s mad. You’re never sure if he fully understands the kind of hurt that leaves behind, or if he does, and simply doesn’t care. It only took one real scolding from you, one sharp, serious reprimand, for him to shrink back, eyes wide and glistening, murmuring apologies with shaking hands. He hasn't dared to do it again since. Not openly, at least. But deep down, he’d been a little pleased. Pleased to discover a weakness in you. That just by giving you a son, he’d carved himself into your life so deeply that no matter how angry, how exhausted, how heartbroken you got... he’d always be a permanent fixture. You weren’t just his love now. You were bound.

🍭You unlock the door, stepping in with tired shoulders and your work bag slung low. The house smells like baby lotion, leftover pasta, and ....suspicious amounts of drama.

Silence.

Too much silence.

Then you spot them, curled up on the couch. Narin’s in his robe, hair up in a little bun, Mylo nestled in his lap with his tiny face squished against his father’s chest.

Narin doesn’t even look at you.

"Oh," he says. Flat. Chilly. "Look who decided to come home."

You blink. "Babe, I told you I had a late meeting-"

He holds up a hand, still not facing you. "No, no. You don’t get to ‘babe’ me right now. We had plans. Mylo and I were going to watch that cheesy prince movie together, and I made themed snacks. Themed, COCO! Do you realize the effort in that?!"

You try to step closer, but he scoots dramatically to the side, shielding Mylo’s ear like he’s protecting a witness.

"Don’t talk to him," Narin says in a stage whisper. "He doesn’t want to hear it. Do you, Mylo?"

Mylo just hiccups and chews on Narin’s robe tie.

"That’s right," Narin murmurs, leaning down conspiratorially. "She abandoned us. Left us to suffer. Alone. No goodnight kisses, no evening cuddles. And we looked so cute today too, didn’t we?"

"Narin-"

"Shh." He gently taps Mylo’s lips with a finger. "Don’t say anything to her, baby. Silence is power."

"You are coaching our son against me again?"

Narin gasps theatrically, clutching Mylo to his chest. "Cover your ears, baby. She’s using the Voice. That rough, work-weary, tempting Voice that ruins our boundaries."

Mylo lets out a giggle.

Narin gasps. "Traitor."

You try not to laugh as you make your way to the couch and lean over, kissing both of their foreheads in one go. "I’ll bribe you both with cookies and twenty minutes of undivided attention if you forgive me."

Narin narrows his eyes.

"…Fifteen minutes of forehead kisses."

"Deal."

"Only cuz', you are hot."

You grinned. "I know."

He slides you a smug, victorious grin while Mylo coos and shoves his foot in your face anyway.

Great coaching, no doubt.

[heartkaji]

nerdjo’s a fool for his pretty, high maintenance girlfriend.

I. PRINCESS MELTDOWN #107 : “BUT TORU, I DON’T GET IT..”

11:57 am location: SC/MATH 3020 (Vari Hall, Room B)

you’re supposed to be solving laplace equations. instead, you’re sending satoru doodles of you pregnant with his child.

satoru gojo is jacques marie mage glasses & messy blanche hair & forearms thicker than his head. he should be studying—god, he should be, but his pretty girl is texting him mid-lecture & satoru’s something of a fool for you so he foolishly decides, who is he not to reply ?

and his replies are earnest. always earnest. too punctuated, too grammatically correct.

toruu : You’re the cutest girl in the world.

toruu : Pay attention, okay?

his first message makes your heart swelter & bloom. the second makes it drop to your ass.

but satoru gojo is honey mouthed & heart-achingly sweet. and when your boyfriend asks you to focus so sweetly, how could you not obey?

so you open your notebook & close it right back.

you : toru i tried :( i don’t get ittttrt

toruu : Send me the question.

and you do. along with a selfie of your cute pout, of course. satoru’s reply comes in in an instant:

toruu : Gorgeous girl.

toruu : Okay, try isolating the variable first.

you do as he says. satoru’s instructions always come easy-sweet. sugar coated & simplified like he’s talking to the softest girl in the world. & perhaps he is.

toruu : Good. Now distribute.

toruu : Yes. That’s it. Keep going.

toruu : That’s perfect, baby. My smart girl.

your cheeks grow mushy & sticky & heart-wrenchingly soft.

satoru gojo is going to be the death of you.

II. PRINCESS MELTDOWN #126 : LOVER BOYS DON’T IGNORE THEIR GIRLFRIENDS !

time : 1:48 pm. location: york lanes ( indoor mall )

“satoru hasn’t texted me in fifteen minutes.”

“they faces killing me why nobody give a fuck.”

you ignore shoko & her bitter response. you’d rather die than argue with a bitch & her bad bob. you lean to rest your head on suguru’s shoulder, who’s much more empathetic & strokes your hair lovingly.

“isn’t he tutoring right now?”

and he is. somewhere across campus, in a cramped corner of the scott library, gojo satoru is bleary-eyed & suffering.

he’s supposed to be explaining calculus to confused first year yuuji itadori. but his phone, face-up & gleam-screened on the mahogany table, hums and vibrates with desperation.

1 new message: princess 🧸💗 1 new message: princess 🧸💗 1 new message: princess 🧸💗

satoru’s jaw is tight. there’s crescent shaped crevices in his palms & his knuckles rouse rash red. his focus flickers. he catches a glimpse of your latest message: the preview of a selfie, that low adorable angle where you’re peering at your phone from under your lashes & your lips jut out in a ‘where are youuu’ pout.

fuck.

“uhh, gojo?” yuuji’s biting his pencil again before he points it at the vibrating device. “aren’t you gonna answer that..? i dunno, it looks important.”

it is important. it’s you. but if satoru answers now, poor yuuji’s paid tutoring session would immediately be over.

“it’s fine, yuuji. let’s focus on finding the derivative.”

and it is fine. because gojo satoru is a man of logic. a man of discipline. a man of pa—

princess 🧸💗: i always knew you’d get tired of me one day

princess 🧸💗: it’s okay. thank you for everything toru 👍

gojo satoru grabs the phone faster than you can say go pandas! his thumbs fly over the screen, ever precise, ever trembling.

toruu: Baby, please don’t say that.

toruu: I’m almost done. I’ll be with you in ten minutes. I’ll buy you that Drake meal you wanted.

toruu: I love you. Please wait for me?

back at the mall you’re reading his text. and god, your heart bubbles up like soda pop. “he’s coming,” you murmur into suguru’s shoulder, scrolling past his text without a reply.

“great!” shoko cheers with fake enthusiasm, taking a puff of her vape (suguru’s complaining that the pineapple & kiwi she blows make his poutine taste sour-ish, & she shouldn’t be vaping anyway, but guess what? shoko doesn’t care!)

“now can we stop acting like it’s the summer hikaru died?”

“no.”

instagram’s algorithm is always on your side. you’ve opened the reels tab to find a video of a rainy window, a quote captioned over it: ‘if he wanted to, he would. silence is a choice.’ simple. short. effective.

you add it to your story. suguru catches a glimpse of your screen & chuckles.

“y/n,” he sings your name, tutting. “you’re gonna give the boy a heart attack before he even hits the common area.”

“he deserves it.”

satoru gojo has already viewed your story. he shows up within the next five minutes.

III. PRINCESS MELTDOWN #167: BABY, I’M BORED.

time : 3:58 pm. location: science & engineering building

there’s solution bubbling pink in a flask. in lab four, the air’s sticky with the sweat of too many boys with glasses & a half-drunk energy drink rotting in the corner.

gojo satoru is huddled over a circuit board with two other boys who look like they haven’t seen sunlight in days.

nerd #1 points at the monitor : “if we adjust the frequency here,” he’s muttering, “the entire wave function collapses. it’s an impossible solve, gojo.”

“it’s not impossible. you’re just missing the constant.”

gojo satoru is the god of lab four; formulas on his fingers & equations on his tongue. he’s leaning over now, fingers on the screen when the heavy steel door swings open,

“hi, toru!”

you’re all soft perfume & clicky heels & smile as sweet as sugar. satoru’s head snaps up instantly—his glasses slip down his nose, & he flicks them back upward, eyes glimmering in the fluorescent light.

“hi sweetheart,” he breathes, “you’re here early.”

the other nerds are staring now, and for good reason. how did gojo satoru—who’s paperbacks & friday nights spent bent over research papers—pull a pretty thing like you ?

“are you doing science ?” you’re already across the room, arms around his neck as his palms press you flush against him from the side. your perfume’s sticky in his lungs. “why’s that line so squiggly? you guys should make it straight. it’d be much prettier.”

nerd #4 winces. “actually, that’s a representation of—“

“you’re right, baby. it would look prettier. have a seat, okay?”

you hum an okay! & plop yourself down on his lap. nerd number 3 & 2 exchange glances. nerd #1 asks, god, me when ?

the group discussion starts up again. satoru is half-science half-yours—his thumb traces circles on your thigh as your feet kick in his lap, & you’re asking one too many questions while satoru tries—tries to pay attention.

“toru, what does this button do?”

“that’s the power supply, baby. please don’t touch it.”

“but it’s glowing. can you make it glow pink ? i think it should glow pink.”

“noted. you’re squirming, princess.”

and you are. nerd #4 wonders how you’re still balanced. the discussion continues but you’re a constant background noise of ‘toru, look at this tiktok’, and ‘baby, i think the lighting’s washing me out.’ you try to touch a wire. gojo catches your hand mid-air & cups it with a kiss.

you flop against his chest. “satoru, i’m bored.”

& satoru is tired. exhausted, really. he’s fighting the rash creeping up his neck as nerds one to four watch you pout in his lap like a spoiled child. “i want matcha. can we go get some?”

you can’t. because this is a project due in twelve hours. because satoru has only so much time to lock in—

“alright, let’s go.”

nerd #3 is distraught: “huh—?! gojo, you can’t leave now, we’re in the middle of a breakthrough!”

satoru doesn’t even look around. he’s smoothing your skirt after you hop off his lap, your bag already slung over his shoulder. he’s leading you out by the hand; “sorry guys. i’ll send my solution to the group chat. brief me on the updates later?”

the door swings shut. nerds one to four are in awe.

“holy hades. what just happened?”

“may God protect them from my jealousy.”

“wallahi i need a bad bitch on my lap.”

“you can’t say that, man. it’s ramadan.”

# UNIKAISEN

princess meltdowns , end.

© HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[polaroidsex]

ᓚᘏ𑄝 nerd!choso dry humping you while trapping you under him.

choso’s got you flat on your stomach across his narrow dorm bed, mattress dipping under both your weights. he’s draped over you completely, heavy and hot, chest pressed to your back so tight you can feel every shaky breath he takes against the nape of your neck. his knees bracket your thighs, forcing your legs together just enough that the friction’s obscene when he rolls his hips.

no preamble. no clothes coming off. just the rough drag of his sweatpants against your thin sleep shorts, the thick length of him already rock-hard and leaking through the fabric. he’s so heavy on top of you that every shallow thrust pins you deeper into the sheets. your face is half-buried in his pillow—smells like his shampoo and faint sweat—and you can’t do anything but arch your back a little, offering more of yourself even though he’s already got you trapped.

“fuck,” he breathes right in your ear, voice wrecked and too loud in the quiet room. his glasses are fogging up again, sliding down his nose. he doesn’t bother fixing them. just grinds harder, hips circling slow then snapping forward like he can’t decide how desperate he wants to be.

the seam of your shorts rides up between your folds with every forward roll. catches right on your clit and stays there, rubbing mercilessly while his cock slides along the cleft of your ass, hot and insistent. you can feel how much he’s dripping—warm wet spots blooming through his sweats, soaking into yours until everything’s slick and clinging.

he shifts his weight, plants one forearm beside your head so he can brace himself and really lean in. the new angle makes him drag slower, deeper, the blunt head of him nudging right where your shorts are thinnest, right over your entrance like he’s trying to push inside through the layers. you whimper into the pillow. thighs tremble. can’t spread them because he’s got you pinned so tight.

“stay like that,” he mutters, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “just—fuck—just let me feel you.” his free hand slides under your stomach, palm flat against your lower belly so he can pull you back into every grind. fingers splay wide, possessive, like he’s trying to feel himself moving inside you even though there’s still fabric in the way.

the rhythm turns filthy. short, sharp rocks that make the bedframe knock softly against the wall. wet sounds every time he drags back, the soaked cotton sticking and pulling. your clit’s throbbing, swollen from the constant pressure, and every time he rolls his hips just right you clench around nothing, hips jerking under him.

he’s panting now, open-mouthed against your shoulder. little broken moans slipping out whenever you push back to meet him. “so fucking soft,” he groans. “can feel how wet you are through everything. gonna—shit—gonna come all over these shorts if you keep squeezing like that.”

you do it again. clench hard. arch just enough to press your ass firmer against him. he chokes on a sound, hips stuttering, then slams forward one last time—grinding so deep the friction burns in the best way.

he comes with a long, shuddering moan muffled into your neck. hot pulses soak through his sweats, seep into yours, warm and sticky between you. he keeps rocking through it, shallow little jerks, smearing it everywhere while his whole body shakes on top of you.

doesn’t pull away even after. just stays draped over your back, breathing hard, cock still twitching against your ass. hand still splayed on your stomach like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“don’t move yet,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “wanna feel it cool down between us.”

[itsjustnikkaa]

Mrs Nanami

Synopsis:Your husband has noticed you have been distant from him after giving birth to your daughter

CW: body Insecurity, slight angst, pussy eating, fingering, mirror sex,multiple orgasms,praise kink, regency era/bridgeton coded, POC reader

If any of these themes are uncomfortable or triggering for you, please scroll past. 18+ only / MDNI

The nursery had finally fallen silent, your daughter's soft breathing the only sound as you laid her gently in her cradle. Three months since she'd entered the world, and still your heart swelled impossibly each time you looked upon her face—your features mingled with Nanami's in the most precious way.

As you slipped from the nursery and made your way down the candlelit corridor to your shared chambers, that warmth in your chest cooled into something heavier. Something that had taken root in the weeks following the birth and refused to be dislodged no matter how you tried.

The bedroom was warm, a fire crackling in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the ornate wallpaper. Your lady's maid had already prepared you for the evening—your dark curls pinned loosely, your body wrapped in a silk nightgown that had once made you feel beautiful.

Now it only made you feel exposed.

You found yourself drawn to the full-length mirror in the corner, the gilded frame catching the firelight. Your reflection stared back at you, and you catalogued every change with merciless precision.

The soft swell of your belly that refused to flatten. The new width of your hips. The faint silver lines that traced across your brown skin like rivers on a map—evidence of the life you'd carried. Your breasts, heavier now, changed in ways that felt foreign.

You turned slightly, examining your profile, and felt tears prick at your eyes.

This was not the body your husband had married. Not the body he had worshipped on your wedding night, when he'd called you the most exquisite creature he'd ever beheld.

The door opened behind you.

"There you are, my darling. Is she settled for the—" Kento's voice stopped abruptly as he entered, still dressed in his evening attire, cravat loosened after a long day attending to estate matters.

You turned quickly, arms wrapping around your midsection in a gesture that had become habit. "She is sleeping soundly. The wet nurse shall attend to her if she wakes."

Your husband's hazel eyes, sharp as ever behind his spectacles, tracked the movement of your arms. The way you angled your body away from both him and the mirror. Something shifted in his expression—concern replacing the warmth of greeting.

"You have been standing before that mirror quite often of late," he observed, closing the door behind him with a soft click. "And yet you seem to take no pleasure in what you see."

"It is nothing." You moved toward the bed, eager to hide beneath the covers. "Simply tired. The baby keeps unusual hours, as you know."

"Stop."

The single word, spoken with quiet authority, froze you in place. Kento had never been a man of many words, but when he spoke, each one carried weight.

He crossed the room with measured steps, coming to stand behind you. His hands settled on your shoulders, gently but firmly turning you back toward the mirror.

"Kento, please—"

"Look." His voice was soft now, but no less commanding. "Look at yourself. Tell me what you see."

You couldn't. Your eyes dropped to the floor, to the Persian rug beneath your bare feet, anywhere but the reflection that tormented you.

"I see nothing worth looking upon," you whispered, the admission tearing itself from your throat.

His sharp intake of breath told you your words had struck him. "Is that what you truly believe?"

"It is what I know." The tears you'd been fighting spilled over, tracking down your cheeks. "I am not the woman you married, Kento. I am... changed. Ruined."

"Ruined." He repeated the word as though it were spoken in a foreign tongue he could not comprehend. "My darling, look at me."

When you didn't move, his hand came up to cup your chin, tilting your face until you had no choice but to meet his gaze in the mirror's reflection.

"Is this why you have been pulling away from me? Why you flinch when I reach for you in the night? Why you dress and undress behind screens when once you did so before me without shame?"

You couldn't answer. Couldn't do anything but let the tears fall.

"You believe yourself ruined," he continued, his voice roughening with an emotion you couldn't name, "and so you have been hiding from me. From your husband. From the man who loves you more than his own life."

"How can you?" The words burst from you, raw and wounded. "How can you love this? I am stretched and marked and nothing fits as it should, and I cannot even bear to look upon myself, so how could you possibly—"

He silenced you by spinning you around to face him, his hands cupping your tear-stained face.

"How can I love the woman who gave me a daughter?" His hazel eyes blazed with an intensity that stole your breath.

"Kento..."

"You ask impossible questions." He pressed his forehead to yours. "Because I cannot fathom how I could ever stop loving you. How I could ever look upon you and see anything but the most beautiful woman in all of England."

"You are being kind—"

"I am being truthful." He pulled back, and now there was determination in his gaze. "And since you seem incapable of seeing what I see, I shall simply have to show you."

Before you could protest, he was guiding you back to the mirror, positioning you before it once more. But this time he stood behind you, his broad chest pressed against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Now." His hands came to rest on your waist, warm through the thin silk. "I am going to tell you what I see. And you are going to listen."

"Kento, this is not necessary—"

"It is entirely necessary." His lips brushed your ear, making you shiver. "My wife has forgotten her worth. It falls to me to remind her."

His hands slid up your sides slowly, reverently. "I see a woman of incomparable beauty. Skin like the richest mahogany, warm and soft beneath my hands."

"My skin is marked now," you protested weakly. "These lines—"

"Are proof of the miracle you performed." His fingers found the hem of your nightgown, lifting it slowly. "May I?"

You should say no. Should stop this before he saw the full extent of what childbirth had done to your body. But something in his voice, in his tender determination, made you nod.

He drew the nightgown up and over your head in one fluid motion, leaving you bare before the mirror. You immediately tried to cover yourself, but he caught your wrists, guiding your arms down to your sides.

"No hiding. Not from me. Never from me."

A sob caught in your throat as his eyes roamed over your reflection. Here it was—all of it exposed. The soft belly, the wider hips, the silver stretch marks painting your skin.

"Beautiful," he breathed, and the word sounded like a prayer.

"You cannot mean—"

"Every mark." His fingers traced one of the silver lines across your hip, feather-light. "Every change. Every single inch of you, my darling wife. Beautiful."

His hands began to roam with purpose now, mapping the terrain of your changed body. "These hips," he murmured, squeezing gently, "have grown wider to carry our child. To bring her into the world. When I look upon them, I see strength."

You watched in the mirror as his hands slid upward, cupping your heavier breasts. "These have nourished our daughter. Given her life and sustenance. When I look upon them, I see abundance."

Your breath was coming faster now, your body responding to his touch despite your insecurities. It had been so long—you'd avoided his advances for weeks, convinced he would be repulsed if he truly saw you.

"And this," his palm pressed flat against your soft belly, "is where our daughter grew. Where she was kept safe and warm for nine months. When I look upon this, I see the greatest gift you could ever give me."

"Kento," you whispered, and this time his name was not a protest but something else entirely.

"You have been denying me, my love." His lips found the curve of your neck, pressing hot kisses to your skin. "Denying us both. And I have been patient, understanding that you needed time to recover. But I will not stand idle while my wife believes herself unworthy of my desire."

His hands were everywhere now—stroking, caressing, worshipping. And in the mirror, you watched it all. Watched his large, elegant hands move across your brown skin. Watched the hunger in his expression as he touched you.

"Do you feel this?" He pressed his hips forward, and you gasped at the unmistakable hardness against your lower back. "This is what you do to me. What you have always done to me. Nothing has changed."

"But I have changed—"

"And I love every change." He spun you around again, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you to the bed. "Now let me prove it to you. Let me worship you as you deserve."

He laid you down on the silk sheets, and for a moment simply stood there, drinking in the sight of you. The fire cast dancing light across your skin, and you fought the urge to cover yourself again.

"Spread your legs for me, my darling."

The command, spoken in that calm, measured tone, sent heat flooding through you. Slowly, trembling, you let your thighs fall open.

"Good girl." He removed his spectacles, setting them on the bedside table, then began to undress with methodical precision. Cravat, waistcoat, shirt—each item removed and folded neatly while you lay bare and wanting beneath his gaze.

"Please," you heard yourself whisper. "Kento, please..."

"Please what, my love?" He climbed onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs, his face level with your core. "Tell me what you need."

"I need... I need you to..."

"To what?" He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, making you gasp. "Use your words. You are a lady of excellent education—I know you possess the vocabulary."

"I need you to touch me." Your face burned with embarrassment, but desire was overriding your shame. "Please, husband. It has been so long."

"It has been too long." He agreed, pressing another kiss higher up your thigh. "And whose fault is that, my darling? Who has been hiding from me? Turning away when I reach for her in the night?"

"Mine," you admitted, your voice breaking. "It is my fault. I am sorry, I just—I could not bear for you to see—"

"Hush." He silenced you with a kiss pressed directly to your core, and you cried out at the contact. "No more apologies. Only pleasure now. Only this."

His tongue traced through your folds, slow and deliberate, and your back arched off the bed. It had been months—months since you'd felt anything but your own inadequate fingers, and even those touches had been rare, tainted by shame.

"Oh, God—Kento—"

"You taste divine," he murmured against your flesh. "Like honey and sin. I have missed this. Missed you."

He devoured you with single-minded focus, his tongue working your sensitive pearl while his hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for his ministrations. You tried to close your legs—old instinct, old shame—but he would not allow it.

"No hiding," he reminded you, lifting his head just long enough to speak. "I want to see all of you. Watch all of you. Now let me hear you, my love. Let me hear how good I make you feel."

"So good," you gasped, your fingers fisting in the sheets. "So good, please, do not stop—"

He didn't. His tongue circled your pearl faster, then slower, learning anew the rhythms that made you shake. When he slid one finger inside you, you keened, your hips bucking up against his face.

"Tight," he groaned. "So tight, my darling. Your body has missed me as much as I have missed it."

"Yes, yes, I have missed you—ahhhh—" Your words dissolved into moans as he added a second finger, stretching you deliciously. The slight burn only added to the pleasure, a reminder that this was real, that your husband was truly here, truly wanting you.

"That is it. Let go for me." He curved his fingers inside you, finding that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. "Come apart on my tongue, my beautiful wife. Show me how much you need this."

"Kento—Kento, I am going to—please, I cannot—"

"You can." His tongue flicked against your pearl rapidly. "You will. Come for me. Now."

The command, combined with the relentless pleasure of his mouth and fingers, sent you hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm crashed through you like a wave, your inner walls clenching around his fingers, your cries echoing off the chamber walls.

He worked you through it, gentling his touch as the tremors subsided, pressing soft kisses to your sensitive flesh. When he finally lifted his head, his chin was slick with your release, and his eyes blazed with satisfaction.

"Beautiful," he said again, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a deep kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and rather than shame, you felt only desire for more.

"Please," you begged against his mouth. "Please, Kento, I need—"

"I know what you need." He positioned himself at your entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing against your slick folds. "I always know."

He pushed inside slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. It had been so long, and the stretch was intense, bordering on painful. But beneath the discomfort was pleasure so acute it made your eyes roll back.

"So tight," he gritted out, his forehead pressed to yours. "So perfect. You take me so well, my darling."

"More," you pleaded, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Please, I need more—"

He gave you more. Drew back and thrust forward, seating himself fully inside you. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders, and he groaned at the sensation.

"Look at me." He cupped your face in his hands as he began to move. "Do not close your eyes. I want you to see—to see how much I want you. How much I need you."

You forced your eyes to stay open, to meet his amber gaze as he thrust into you with increasing force. There was no disgust there. No disappointment. Only love and desire and desperate need.

"You are everything to me." He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. "Everything. Do you understand? You are my wife. My love. My heart."

"Kento—" Your voice broke on his name, tears streaming down your temples. But these were different tears—tears of overwhelming emotion, of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

"I will never tire of you." He was moving faster now, harder, the bed creaking beneath your combined weight. "Never stop wanting you. Never look upon another woman with even a fraction of the desire I feel for you."

"I love you," you sobbed, clinging to him as the pleasure built again. "I love you so much, I am sorry I pulled away, I am sorry—"

"No more apologies." He kissed you fiercely, swallowing your cries. "Only us. Only this.”

He shifted angles, and suddenly he was hitting that spot inside you with every thrust, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your entire body. You couldn't think, couldn't speak, could only feel and want and need.

"Come for me again." His thumb found your pearl, rubbing in tight circles. "Let me feel you. Let me feel how much your body wants mine."

"Yes, yes, yes—" The word became a chant, a prayer, as your second orgasm built with frightening speed. "Please, Kento, please—"

"Now, my darling. Come for me now."

You shattered. Your back arched, your vision went white, and you screamed his name as waves of pleasure crashed over you, endless and overwhelming. You felt him thrust once, twice more, and then he was following you over the edge, spilling himself inside you with a groan of your name.

For long moments, neither of you moved. He collapsed atop you, his weight a comforting pressure, his breath hot against your neck. You held him close, your fingers tracing patterns on his sweat-slicked back.

"We are not finished," he murmured against your skin.

"We are not?"

"Not even close." He lifted his head, and the heat in his eyes made your breath catch. "I have months of worship to make up for. And I intend to be thorough."

Before you could respond, he was pulling out of you and flipping you onto your stomach. You gasped as he pulled your hips up, positioning you on your hands and knees.

"Kento—"

"Look up, my darling."

You lifted your head, and your breath caught. He had positioned you facing the mirror—the same mirror that had been the source of so much torment. Now you saw yourself in it, flushed and debauched, your dark curls tumbling around your shoulders, your brown skin gleaming with sweat.

And behind you, your husband. Tall and golden in the firelight, his hands gripping your hips, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection.

"Watch," he commanded. "Watch what I see. Watch how beautiful you are when I take you."

He thrust back inside, and you cried out, your arms nearly giving way. But you kept your eyes on the mirror, watching as he claimed you from behind.

"You see?" He set a punishing pace, his hips slapping against your backside. "You see how your body moves? How it takes me so perfectly? How could you ever think this was anything but exquisite?"

"Oh Godahh—Kento—so deep!” You could barely form words, the pleasure overwhelming. But you couldn't look away from the mirror, from the image of your husband taking you with such desperate passion.

"This is what I see every time I look at you." He reached around, his fingers finding your pearl once more. "The woman I love more than anything in this world."

"Please—please—I cannot—" You were going to come again, you could feel it building, impossibly fast.

"You can. You will." He leaned over you, his chest against your back, his lips at your ear. "Come for me, my beautiful wife. Come while you watch yourself. See what I see."

You watched in the mirror as your face contorted with pleasure, as your mouth fell open in a silent scream, as your third orgasm tore through you with devastating intensity. You watched your husband's face as he followed you over the edge, his expression one of pure, unadulterated love.

You watched, and for the first time in months, you saw beauty.

[itsjustnikkaa]

F for Fuck me

Synopsis: Popular sorority girl shoko purposefully failing her classes just so she can get closer with the pretty nerd she’s been crushing on

CW: lesbian sex, scissoring, fingering, pussy eating, titty sucking, mutual masturbation, striping, praising kink, worship

If any of these themes are uncomfortable or triggering for you, please scroll past. 18+ only / MDNI

The knock on your dorm room door made you jump, nearly spilling your coffee across the organic chemistry textbook you'd been highlighting. You weren't expecting anyone—your roommate was gone for the weekend, and you'd specifically planned a quiet Friday night of studying.

"Coming," you called out, adjusting your glasses and smoothing down your natural hair, pulled up in a messy puff on top of your head.

When you opened the door, your brain short-circuited.

Shoko Ieiri stood in your doorway, looking like she'd stepped off the cover of a magazine. Her silky brown hair fell perfectly around her shoulders, her makeup was immaculate despite it being nearly eight PM.

The most popular girl in your organic chemistry class. President of the most exclusive sorority on campus. And absolutely, devastatingly gorgeous.

"Hey, cutie." She smiled, and you forgot how to breathe. "Can I come in?"

"I—what—yes?" You stepped aside automatically, your cheeks burning. "I mean, yes. Of course. Um. Why?"

Smooth. Very smooth.

Shoko walked past you, her perfume leaving a trail of something expensive and intoxicating. She surveyed your small dorm room with interest—the fairy lights strung above your bed, the overflowing bookshelf, the desk covered in color-coded notes and highlighters.

"Cute room." She turned back to you, and there was something in her dark eyes that made your stomach flip. "Very you."

"Thanks?" You closed the door, hovering awkwardly by your desk. "Not to be rude, but... why are you here? We've never really talked before."

"We sit next to each other in orgo."

"You sit next to me because it's assigned seating."

She laughed, low and warm. "Fair point. But I've been meaning to talk to you for a while now. You're kind of hard to approach, you know."

You blinked. "I'm hard to approach? You're literally the most popular girl on campus."

She sat down on your bed—your bed—like she belonged there. "I need your help."

"My help?"

"I'm failing orgo." She said it so casually. "Like, actually failing. If I don't pass the next exam, I'm going to lose my position in the house."

That didn't make sense. You'd seen Shoko in class—she was always attentive, always taking notes. Sure, she spent a lot of time looking at her phone, but she didn't seem stupid.

"You want me to tutor you?"

"If you don't mind." She patted the bed beside her. "I can pay. And I'm a very good student when properly motivated."

This was insane. Shoko was in your room, on your bed, asking you to tutor her. Things like this didn't happen to girls like you—quiet, nerdy girls who spent Friday nights studying instead of partying.

"I... sure. Okay." You grabbed your textbook and notes, settling onto the bed beside her with what you hoped was a casual distance between you. "What chapter are you struggling with?"

"All of them?"

You stared at her. "All of them."

"I told you, I'm failing." She pulled out a bag of gummy bears, offering them to you. "Start from the beginning. I'm a blank slate."

Three hours later, your voice was hoarse from explaining reaction mechanisms, and Shoko had somehow migrated closer and closer until her thigh was pressed against yours. You tried to ignore it—tried to focus on the molecular structures you were drawing—but her proximity was making it very hard to think.

"So the nucleophile attacks the electrophilic carbon," you explained, pointing at your diagram, "which causes the leaving group to—"

"You're really pretty when you're concentrating."

Your pen skidded across the page. "What?"

Shoko was looking at you with an expression you couldn't read. "You get this little furrow between your eyebrows. And you bite your lip when you're thinking. It's cute."

"I—that's—we should focus on the material."

"Should we?" She reached out, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. Her fingers lingered on your cheek. "I have something to tell you."

Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure she could hear it. "W-What?"

"I'm not actually failing orgo."

The words didn't compute. "But you said—"

"I have a 94 in that class." Her smile turned slightly sheepish. "I've been purposefully bombing assignments for the last month so I'd have an excuse to come talk to you."

"You... what?"

"I've had a crush on you since the first day of class." She said it so simply, like it was obvious. "But you never noticed me. You were always buried in your books, or rushing off to the library, or studying in that little corner of the coffee shop where you think no one can see you."

"That's... a lot of observation."

"I'm very observant when it comes to things I want."

"And you... want me?"

"Desperately." The word sent a shiver down your spine. "I've been trying to figure out how to approach you for months. The tutoring thing was the best I could come up with."

"You tanked your grade for me?"

"I can bring it back up." She waved a hand dismissively. "The real question is—do you want me too? Because if not, I'll leave right now and we can pretend this never happened."

You physically couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

Shoko Ieiri was out of your league in every possible way.

"I don't want you to leave," you admitted quietly. Her smile was radiant. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. But I've never... I mean, with a girl, I haven't..."

"That's okay." She cupped your face in her hands, her touch impossibly gentle. "We'll go slow. And if you want to stop at any point, we stop."

"Okay," you breathed. "Okay."

She kissed you.

It was soft at first—exploratory, questioning. Her lips were impossibly smooth, tasting faintly of the cherry chapstick you'd watched her apply earlier. When you gasped against her mouth, she took it as an invitation, deepening the kiss until your head was spinning.

"God, I've wanted to do that for so long," she murmured against your lips. "You have no idea."

"Ieiri..."

"Cmon baby, call me Shoko." She kissed down your jaw, your neck. "I want to hear you say it."

"mmnh—Shoko," you repeated, and it came out embarrassingly breathy.

"Perfect." She nipped at your pulse point, making you gasp. "You're perfect."

Her hands found the hem of your oversized t-shirt—definitely not what you would have worn if you'd known this was going to happen.

"Can I?" she asked, fingers playing with the fabric.

You nodded, “Fuck," she breathed, staring at you in your simple cotton bra. She pushed you gently onto your back, hovering over you.

She kissed you again, her body pressing against yours. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this? About getting you alone, getting you out of those clothes?"

"Tell me," you whispered, surprising yourself with your boldness.

"I think about you everyday in class." She unhooked your bra with ease, tossing it aside. "When you're focused on the lecture and I'm supposed to be taking notes. I think about what sounds you'd make if I touched you."

"What sounds do you think I'd make?"

"Let's find out." Her mouth found your breast, and you whined —loud and unrestrained.

"There it is." She swirled her tongue around your nipple, making you arch into her. "Even prettier than I imagined."

"Oh god—" Your hands flew to her hair, tangling in the silky strands. "That feels so—"

"So what?" She switched to your other breast, giving it the same attention. "Use your words, pretty girl. I want to hear everything."

"So good," you gasped. "So good, please don't stop—"

"Wasn't planning on it." She kissed down your stomach, her fingers hooking in the waistband of your sweatpants. "Can I keep going?"

"Yes—please—"

She pulled your sweatpants and underwear off in one motion, leaving you completely bare beneath her. You moved to cover yourself instinctively, but she caught your wrists.

"No hiding." Her dark eyes roamed over your body with obvious hunger.

"You look like everything I've ever wanted." She pressed a kiss to your hip, then your inner thigh. "These curves? These thighs? This soft stomach?" Another kiss to your belly. "Gorgeous. Every inch of you.

"You're wearing too many clothes," you managed, tugging at her sweater.

She grinned, sitting back to pull it over her head. Her bra followed, revealing her perfect breasts, pink nipples already hard. Then her jeans, her underwear, until she was as naked as you.

"Better?"

"Much better." You reached for her, pulling her back down. The feeling of her skin against yours made you both moan.

"I want to taste you," she murmured against your neck. "Been thinking about it for months. Can I?"

"Yes—god, yes—"

She kissed her way down your body, settling between your thighs. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but when she looked up at you with those dark eyes, all you felt was wanted.

"So pretty," she whispered, her breath hot against your core. "So wet already. Is this all for me?"

"All for you," you confirmed, your voice shaking. "Please, Shoko—"

The first touch of her tongue made you cry out. She licked through your folds slowly, exploring, learning what made you gasp and what made you moan.

"You taste incredible." She circled your clit with her tongue, and your hips bucked. "Could do this for hours."

"Please—" You weren't even sure what you were begging for. "Fuckahh, more—"

She gave you more. Her tongue worked your clit with increasing pressure while one finger teased your entrance, gathering your wetness before pushing inside.

"Oh fuck—" Your back arched off the bed. "Yes, yes, right there—"

"Right here?" She curled her finger, finding a spot that made you see stars. "You like that, pretty girl?"

"Yes—more—please—"

She added a second finger, stretching you deliciously. Her tongue never stopped its assault on your clit, and you could feel your orgasm building embarrassingly fast.

"Shoko—I'm gonna—already—"

"Already?" She sounded delighted, not mocking. "Let me see. Cum for me, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel."

"C-Can't—s’embarrassing!—"

She sucked your clit into her mouth while her fingers pumped faster. "You're perfect. Now Cum."

You shattered. Your orgasm crashed through you with an intensity you'd never experienced alone, your pussy clenching around her fingers, your thighs squeezing her head. You cried out her name over and over, tears streaming down your temples.

She worked you through it, gentling her touch as you came down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs.

"Beautiful," she murmured. "So fucking beautiful when you cum ."

"I want—" You were still catching your breath, still trembling. "I want to touch you too."

"Yeah?" She crawled up your body, her wet lips meeting yours in a kiss that tasted like you. "You don't have to—"

"I want to." You flipped her over, surprising you both with your boldness. "Tell me what you like."

She looked up at you with something like wonder. "Whatever you want to give me. I'll take anything."

You kissed her deeply, then trailed your mouth down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. When you took her nipple into your mouth, she gasped, her hands flying to your hair.

"Yes—fuck—just like that—"

Encouraged, you sucked harder, your hand coming up to palm her other breast. She arched into your touch, soft moans falling from her lips.

"You're so good at this," she breathed. "For someone who's never—oh god—"

You switched to her other nipple, biting gently, and she whined high in her throat. The sound went straight to your core, making you clench around nothing.

"Can I taste you?" you asked, suddenly desperate to make her feel as good as she'd made you feel. "I've never done it before, but I want—"

"Yes." She spread her thighs for you, and the sight of her glistening pussy made your mouth water. "Fuck baby, Ahh—hh."

You settled between her legs, taking a moment just to look. She was beautiful everywhere—even here, pink and wet and swollen with arousal.

"Tell me if I do something wrong," you whispered.

"You won't. Just—oh fuck—"

Your first tentative lick made her whole body shudder. You licked again, more confidently, exploring her folds the way she'd explored yours. When you found her clit, she cried out, her hips bucking against your face.

"holy shit!—right there—"

You focused on that spot, licking and sucking experimentally. Her moans guiding you—higher when you did something right, desperate when you did something really right.

"Fingers—" she gasped. "Add y-your fingers, baby"

You pushed one finger inside her, amazed at how wet and tight she was. When you curled it the way she'd done to you, she practically screamed.

"Yes! Fucknghh, just like that—"

You added a second finger, pumping them in time with your tongue on her clit. She was falling apart above you, her thighs shaking, her hands fisted in your sheets.

"Gonna cum—" Her voice was high, desperate. You worked harder, faster, and felt her clench around your fingers as her orgasm hit.

She came with a cry of your name—your name—her whole body convulsing with pleasure.

When she finally stilled, you crawled up beside her, suddenly shy again. "Was that... okay?"

She laughed breathlessly, pulling you into a kiss. "Okay? That was incredible. Are you sure you've never done that before?"

"Never." You ducked your head, smiling.

"Mmm." She rolled on top of you, her thigh pressing between yours. "I'm not done with you yet, pretty girl." She started grinding against you, her wet pussy sliding against your thigh while hers pressed against your core.

"I want to feel you cum against me."

"Shoko—" You gasped as she found a rhythm, pleasure sparking through you with every movement. "Oh god—"

"That's it." She kissed you messily, all tongue and teeth. "Move with me. Let me feel you."

You found her rhythm, your hips moving in tandem, your clits grinding against each other's thighs. The friction was incredible—wet and hot and building toward something explosive.

"Feels so good," you whimpered. "You feel so good—Hah—shit!"

"You feel better." She was panting now, her movements becoming erratic. "Gonna cum again— gon cum with me babe ?—"

"Yesyesyes! Shoko—" You both came together, clinging to each other as waves of pleasure crashed through you both. You felt her wetness gush against your thigh, felt your own release soaking hers, and it was the hottest thing you'd ever experienced.

She collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing hard, sticky with sweat and other fluids.

"Holy shit," she mumbled against your neck.

"Yeah." You laughed weakly. "Holy shit”

[itsjustnikkaa]

Heart shaped cookies

Synopsis: While you're baking Valentine cookies for your boyfriend's students, he distracts you by bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking your pussy deep and hard until he pumps his cum inside you.

CW: overstim,creampie, pussy eating, kitchen sex, clothed sex, titty sucking, food play, praise, slight breeding kink, clothes ripping

If any of these themes are uncomfortable or triggering for you, please scroll past. 18+ only / MDNI

The kitchen smelled like heaven—vanilla, butter, and melted chocolate swirling together in the warm air. You hummed softly to yourself as you piped pink frosting onto heart-shaped cookies, your hips swaying slightly to the music playing from your phone propped against the mixer. The February sun streamed through the window above the sink, casting golden light across the flour-dusted counter where dozens of Valentine's cookies cooled on wire racks.

You'd been at this for hours now, determined to make enough treats for all of Gojo's first-year students. Yuji alone could probably demolish half of what you'd made, and you wanted to make sure Megumi and Nobara had plenty too.

You were so focused on getting the frosting just right—little swirls and dots decorating each heart—that you didn't hear the front door open. Didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching. Didn't notice anything at all until two long arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and a warm body pressed flush against your back.

"There's my pretty girl."

That voice. Low and playful, breath hot against your ear. You'd know it anywhere.

"Fuck—Satoru!" You jumped slightly, the piping bag squeezing out an uneven blob of frosting. "You scared me!"

His laugh rumbled through his chest and into your back, and you felt his chin come to rest on top of your head. Those ridiculous arms of his tightened around your middle, pulling you even closer until there wasn't a whisper of space between your bodies.

"Mmm, you smell good," he murmured, nuzzling into your braids. "Like sugar and vanilla. Good enough to eat."

"I smell like I've been baking for four hours," you corrected, trying to focus on fixing the frosted cookie you'd messed up. Hard to do when six feet of gorgeous sorcerer was wrapped around you like a white-haired octopus. "Which I have. For YOUR students, I might add."

"My hardworking baby." His hands splayed across your stomach, thumbs rubbing lazy circles through the fabric of your apron. You'd thrown it on with nothing under, besides your favorite black leggings. "Taking such good care of my kids. What did I do to deserve you?"

"Absolutely nothing. You're just lucky.”

"The luckiest," he agreed easily, and you could hear the grin in his voice. One of his hands began to wander upward while the other drifted down,

"Can you behave? I'm almost done with this batch."

"I am behaving. This is me behaving." His fingers found the tie of your apron at the small of your back and tugged playfully. "You should see me when I'm not behaving."

"I have seen you when you're not behaving. Multiple times."

His delighted laugh made your stomach flip. God, you loved that sound. Loved him, even when he was being an absolute menace—which was approximately ninety percent of the time.

"Such fond memories," Gojo sighed dreamily. Then his head lifted, and you felt him peering over your shoulder at the spread of cookies before you. "Oh, these look amazing. You even made little cat ones for Megumi?"

"And curse-shaped ones for Yuji, and stars for Nobara." You couldn't help the pride in your voice. "I found cookie cutters online."

"You're literally perfect, you know that?" He pressed a kiss to your temple, sweet and soft, and your heart did that stupid fluttery thing it always did when he was gentle with you. "An angel. A goddess. The most beautiful, talented, incredible woman in—wait."

His voice shifted, taking on that wheedling tone you knew all too well.

"If you made all these for the kids... surely you made some for me too, right? Your beloved boyfriend? The hardest working sorcerer in all of Japan?”

"Hardest working?" You snorted, carefully setting down the piping bag. "Satoru, you took a three-hour nap yesterday. In the middle of a mission briefing."

"Mental preparation is exhausting work, sweetheart."

"You were drooling on the conference table."

"Recovering from mental preparation is also exhausting."

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. Couldn't help it. He was ridiculous and you adored him for it.

His hands were wandering again, sliding up your sides, and you felt him stretch past you toward the cooling rack closest to the edge of the counter. Your hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could snag a cookie.

"Satoru Gojo, don't you dare."

"But baaaabe." He actually whined, like a petulant child, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. "I've been working SO hard. I had to deal with Ijichi's reports all morning. Do you know how many forms that man makes me sign? My hand is cramping. I deserve a cookie."

"These are for the kids."

"I'm basically a kid. I'm very immature. Everyone says so."

"That's not the flex you think it is."

He made a wounded noise, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. "You're so mean to me. Your poor, starving boyfriend who loves you so much and just wants one tiny little cookie—"

"You had an entire sleeve of Oreos an hour ago. I watched you eat them."

"That was a light snack. I'm a growing boy."

"You're a thirty-year-old man."

"A growing thirty-year-old man."

You turned in his arms then, finally facing him, and your breath caught the way it always did when you looked at him."Hi," he said softly, smile going tender.

"Hi yourself." You reached up to brush some of that fluffy hair off his forehead. "How was your morning really? Besides the forms."

"Boring without you." He leaned into your touch like a cat, eyes fluttering half-closed. "Kept thinking about coming home to you. Couldn't focus on anything else."

"Flatterer."

"Truth-teller." His hands settled on your hips, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your leggings. "You look cute in this apron, by the way. Very 'hot wife baking in the kitchen.'"

"We're not married."

"Yet." He said it so casually, so matter-of-factly, that your heart nearly stopped. Before you could respond—before you could even process—he was grinning again, that wicked gleam back in his eyes. "Now. About that cookie."

"Satoru—"

"Just one. One tiny cookie. I'll be quick, you won't even notice it's gone."

"The answer is no. They're for the kids and they need to set properly and—hey!"

He'd swiped one while you were talking, the sneaky bastard, lightning-fast even without using his cursed technique. A pink-frosted heart disappeared into his mouth, and he let out an absolutely obscene moan that had no business being that loud in a kitchen at two in the afternoon.

"Oh my god," he groaned, eyes rolling back dramatically. "Baby. Baby, these are incredible. Holy shit. You're a genius. A culinary genius. I'm gonna marry you immediately, right now, in this kitchen—"

"You're so dramatic." But you were blushing, warmth spreading across your brown cheeks. "Is it actually good? I tried a new recipe for the sugar cookies."

"Good? Good?" He grabbed your face in both hands, squishing your cheeks together and making you laugh. "These are the best cookies I've ever tasted in my entire life. The kids don't deserve these. I deserve these. I'm keeping all of them."

"You are not."

"I'm the strongest. I can do whatever I want."

"Being the strongest doesn't mean you get to steal Valentine's cookies from teenagers."

"It absolutely does. That's literally what it means."

You wriggled out of his grip, laughing, and turned back to the counter to finish the last few cookies. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly handsome? Impossibly charming? Impossibly good at making you scream my name?"

"Impossibly annoying."

"Guess that too." He didn't sound bothered in the slightest. You felt him shift behind you, leaning against the counter beside you, watching you work. "So how many more do you have to do?"

"Just this batch, then I need to let them set for about twenty minutes before I can pack them up."

"Twenty whole minutes?" His voice had dropped, taking on that particular tone that made your thighs clench involuntarily. "However will we pass the time?"

"By you sitting quietly and letting me work."

"Mm. Counter-offer." He moved behind you again, pressing close, and this time when his hands found your hips, there was intent behind it. "I distract you very thoroughly, and then we BOTH enjoy the next twenty minutes."

"Satoru." You tried to sound stern, but it came out breathier than intended. "I'm almost done."

"I know, baby. I'll let you finish. I'm just gonna... admire the view." His hands slid down from your hips to your ass, cupping the full curves through your leggings, and you bit your lip as he squeezed appreciatively.

"God, I love this ass," he murmured, kneading the flesh. "Do you know how hard it was to concentrate today knowing this was waiting for me at home? Knowing you were here, in my kitchen, wearing an apron with nothing underneath, looking like a whole snack?"

"I thought the cookies were the snack?"

"The cookies are dessert. You're the main course."

You tried to focus on piping the last few hearts, but his hands were distracting, wandering over your backside with obvious appreciation. When he delivered a sudden sharp smack to your right cheek, you yelped and jumped, nearly dropping the piping bag."Satoru!"

"Sorry, sorry." He didn't sound sorry at all. "Couldn't resist. It was right there. Looking all cute and round and—"

He stopped. You felt him go still behind you."Um. Babe."

"What?" You twisted to look at him, then followed his gaze down to your ass. There, stark white against the black fabric of your leggings, was a perfect handprint made of flour. He must have had his hand in the container on the counter before he smacked you.

"Oops?" He offered, grinning sheepishly. Those blue eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter. "That was... an accident."

"An accident."

"Total accident. Completely unintentional. I had no idea my hand was covered in flour when I spanked your gorgeous ass."

"You're such a liar." But you were fighting a smile, even as you reached back to try and brush off the powder. "These are my good leggings!"

"They look better with my mark on them anyway." His voice had gone lower, rougher, and when you looked up at him, the playfulness in his expression had shifted into something hungrier. "Actually... I think everything looks better with my mark on it. Especially you."

The way he was looking at you—like he wanted to devour you whole—made heat pool low in your belly.

"I have to finish these cookies," you said weakly, but you didn't move away when he stepped closer.

"You have three left." His hands found your hips again, spinning you back around to face the counter. "Finish them. I'll wait."

"You'll wait?"

"Mmhm." His lips brushed your ear, and you shivered. "I'll just be right here. Being patient. Not doing anything distracting at all."

That was such an obvious lie that you almost laughed. But you picked up the piping bag anyway, determined to finish what you'd started. Three more cookies. That was all. You could do this

You couldn't do this.

Gojo's hands were everywhere—sliding up under the hem of your shirt to stroke the soft skin of your stomach, cupping your breasts from inside your apron and squeezing gently. His mouth was hot on your neck, sucking and biting marks into your brown skin that would definitely be visible tomorrow.

"T-toru," you whimpered, hand shaking as you tried to pipe a straight line. "You said—hah—you said you'd wait—"

"I am waiting." He pinched your nipples and your back arched into his touch. "See? Very patiently. Just keeping myself entertained."

"This is not—mmph—not patient—"

"It's extremely patient. You should see how impatient I could be." He rolled your nipples between his fingers, and you moaned, the piping bag slipping from your grip entirely. "There we go. That's my girl. Stop fighting it."

"The cookies—"

"Can wait." He spun you around to face him, and the look in his eyes made your knees go weak. Hungry. Predatory. Like he was going to eat you alive and enjoy every second of it. "I can't."

His mouth crashed into yours, and you melted. You always did. You could taste the cookie he'd stolen earlier. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groaned against your lips.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed between kisses. "Been thinking about this all day. About you. About how pretty you'd look bent over this counter with my cock inside you."

"God, Satoru—"

"What’s that? Want me to fuck you right here in our kitchen?"

"Yes," you gasped, and it was like a dam breaking. "Yes, please, I want—"

You didn't get to finish. He lifted you like you weighed nothing—and to him, with his strength, you probably didn't—and set you on the edge of the counter, knocking aside a container of sprinkles that scattered across the floor in a rainbow cascade. Neither of you cared.

His mouth found your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave marks, and your head fell back with a moan. "Satoru, fuck, that feels—"

"I know, baby. I know what you need." His hands going up to your chest and pulling your apron down, so your breast are more visible to him . "God, look at you. So fucking pretty."

His mouth was on your breasts, hot and wet and perfect. He sucked your nipple between his lips, tongue swirling around the peaked bud, and you cried out, fingers tangling in his white hair.

"Oh god—fuck, Toru—"

"Fuck baby, you taste so good," he mumbled against your skin, switching to your other breast. "Every part of you. Could do this forever."

He bit down gently, and you keened, hips bucking involuntarily. Your core was throbbing, desperate for friction, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Please," you whined, tugging at his hair. "Please, I need—"

"Need what?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, and the sight of him—lips swollen, eyes dark with lust, hair mussed from your fingers—made your cunt clench around nothing. "Tell me what you need, pretty girl. Use your words."

"Touch me. Please touch my pussy, I'm so wet for you—"

"Yeah?" His hand slid down your stomach, over the apron still tied around your waist, and cupped you through your leggings. Even through the fabric, you could feel how soaked you were, and his groan was almost pained. "Fuck, baby. You're drenched. All this for me?"

"All for you. Always for you. Please—"

He didn't bother pulling your leggings down. Just grabbed the fabric at the seam between your thighs and ripped, the sound of tearing fabric obscenely loud in the quiet kitchen. Your ruined panties followed a second later, torn away like tissue paper, and then his fingers were sliding through your folds and you couldn't think anymore.

"So wet," he breathed, circling your clit with his thumb. "So fucking wet and ready for me. My perfect girl."

"Ahh—hh, Toru!" You grabbed his wrist, not to stop him but to ground yourself, to keep from flying apart. "Oh fuck, right there, right there—"

"Here?" He pressed harder, rubbing tight circles, and your thighs shook. "You like that, baby? Like when I play with your pretty little clit?"

"Yes, yes, fuck, I love it, please don't stop—"

But he did stop, pulling his hand away, and you actually sobbed at the loss. Before you could beg, before you could demand, he was dropping to his knees on the kitchen floor, shouldering your thighs apart, and then his mouth was on you and you screamed.

He licked a long stripe up your pussy, groaning like you were the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. "So sweet," he murmured against your folds. "Sweeter than any cookie. Could eat this cunt forever."

His tongue found your clit and you saw stars. He sucked it between his lips, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, and your hands scrabbled for purchase on the counter, knocking over a bowl of frosting that neither of you noticed.

"Aaah —oh god—please baby—I'm gonna"

"Cum for me," he growled against your pussy. "Cum on my tongue, baby. Let me taste you."

He thrust two fingers inside you, curling them just right, hitting that spot that made you see white, and you shattered. Your orgasm crashed through you like a wave, your whole body shaking, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you screamed his name loud enough that the neighbors definitely heard.

He didn't stop. Kept licking, kept fucking you with his fingers, drawing out your pleasure until it crested again, a second orgasm rolling through you before the first had even finished.

"Toru!" You tried to push his head away, oversensitive and trembling. "Toomuchit's toomuch—"

"One more." His voice was wrecked, desperate. "Give me one more, pretty girl. I know you can."

"I can't—"

"You can." He added a third finger, stretching you deliciously, and his thumb found your clit again. "You can because I say you can. Because you're my good girl and you want to make me happy, don't you?"

"Yes," you sobbed, even as another wave of pleasure built in your core. "Yes, I—nghh—I want to be good for you—"

"Then cum. Cum for me again."

You did. Harder than before, gushing around his fingers, your vision going black at the edges. When you came back to yourself, you were slumped against the cabinets, boneless and shaking, and Gojo was standing between your thighs with the most self-satisfied smirk you'd ever seen.

"There she is." He kissed your forehead, surprisingly gentle. "Did so good for me, baby. So perfect."

"Please," you whispered, reaching for his belt. "Please, Satoru, I need you inside me. Need your cock."

"Yeah?" He let you fumble with his belt, helped you push his pants down just enough to free his cock. He was hard and leaking, the tip flushed and glistening, and your mouth watered at the sight. "Need me to fill up this pretty pussy?"

"Yes, please, please—"

He lifted you off the counter, turning you around and bending you over it in one smooth motion. Your palms pressed flat against the flour-dusted surface, your ass in the air, the apron bunched up around your waist. You felt the head of his cock nudge against your entrance and whined.

"Satoru, please, stop teasing—"

"You’re so cute ." He slowly sinked his cock into your pussy, sinking into you inch by inch, and you both moaned at the feeling. "Fuck. Fuck, baby, you're so tight"

"Move," you begged, pushing back against him. "Please, fuck me, I need you—"

He didn't need to be told twice. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, and he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, punching a scream from your throat. He set a brutal pace, fucking you hard and deep, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the kitchen along with your desperate moans.

"That's it," he grunted, driving into you. "Take it. Take my cock like the good little slut you are. Fuck, you feel so good—"

"Toru! oh fuck, yesyesyesss!"

"This pussy is mine." He changed his angle, and suddenly he was hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and you couldn't breathe,couldn't think,couldn't do anything but take it. "Say it. Tell me who this pussy belongs to."

"Y-you!" You were crying now, tears streaming down your face from the overwhelming pleasure. "It's yours, I'm yours, all yours—"

"That's right." He reached around to rub your clit, and you shrieked, another orgasm building impossibly fast. "Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna pump you so full of my cum. You want that? Want me to breed this pretty little cunt?"

"Yes! Please, toru , cum inside me, fill me up, I want it so bad—"

"Fuck, I love you." His thrusts were getting erratic, desperate. "Love you so fucking much. Gonna give you everything. Gonna—fuck—gonna—"

"Cum in me now ," you begged, clenching around him. "Please, baby, cum inside me—"

He buried himself to the hilt and came with a roar, his cock pulsing as he filled you with rope after rope of hot cum. The feeling of it—the warmth, the fullness,triggering your own release, and you came screaming his name, your pussy milking every drop from him.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just stayed there, connected, breathing hard, trembling in the aftermath. Then Gojo leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

"Round two?" You raised an eyebrow, even as heat stirred in your belly again.

"Satoru, get the fuck out."

[itsjustnikkaa]

Have you ever tried, this one?

Synopsis: JJK men favorite positions to fuck you in.

With Visuals! Make sure you are logged into X/Twitter beforehand

◟ Gojo Satoru ໒꒱ .

Prone bone

Gojo is a big slut. There is just something about him having you laying underneath him on your belly with all his weight on you. You can’t run, you can’t escape, you have to take his dick like a good girl.

"You're already this wet? We barely started."

"Toru, please—" Your voice came out broken, muffled by the pillow. You tried to lift your hips, desperate for more friction, but his weight kept you pinned perfectly flat.

"Please what?" He laughed, that playful lilt making your clit throb. His arm tightened around your neck just slightly, pulling your head back enough that you could feel his breath on your cheek. "Use your words, baby. I know you've got 'em in that pretty little head."

"Please fuck me," you whined, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you. "I need it, I need you inside—"

The words died in your throat as he slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Your scream came out choked, strangled by his forearm against your throat as he stretched you open around his length. The angle—god, the angle with your legs pressed together, flat beneath him—made him feel impossibly thick.

"Fuck, your tight," Gojo groaned, his composure cracking for just a moment before that cocky edge returned. "Your little pussy's squeezing me so hard. Did you miss my cock that much?"

He didn't wait for an answer. His hips snapped back and drove forward again, setting a punishing rhythm that had the headboard cracking against the wall. Each thrust ground your clit against the mattress, the friction almost too much combined with the way he was splitting you open from behind.

"T-Toru! Too deep—Ahh—hh" Your moans pitched higher, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he fucked you into the bed. His arm stayed locked around your throat, keeping your back arched just enough that every stroke hit that devastating spot inside you.

"Too deep?" He had the audacity to laugh, pressing a kiss to your temple even as his hips pistoned faster. "Baby, I'm barely trying. You should see yourself right now—crying already and I haven't even made you cum yet."

The tears spilled over, streaking down your cheeks and soaking into the pillow. It wasn't pain—or not entirely. It was the overwhelming fullness, the relentless pace, the way he somehow knew exactly how to take you apart. Your sobs mixed with your moans, creating desperate sounds you'd never heard yourself make before.

"There it is," Gojo breathed, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "There's my pretty crybaby. Those tears look so good on you." He shifted his angle slightly, and suddenly every thrust was punching against your g-spot with devastating accuracy. "Come on, let me hear you. Let the whole building hear how good I'm fucking this pussy."

"Ohhh god, oh fuck, fuck!” Your vocabulary shattered into nothing but profanity and his name, repeated like a prayer. Your nails tore at the sheets as the pressure built, coiling tighter with every snap of his hips.

"That's it, squeeze me just like that," he commanded, his own breath coming faster now despite his efforts to sound unaffected. His free hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he used your body. "You gonna cum on my cock? Gonna make a mess all over these sheets?"

"Yesyesplease, I'm so close—please let me cum, toru!—"

"Look at you, begging so pretty with tears running down your face." His headlock tightened just a fraction more, his lips brushing your ear. "Go ahead then, baby. Cum for me. Show me how much you love getting fucked into this mattress."

Your orgasm crashed through you like a tidal wave, your entire body seizing beneath him as you wailed his name into the pillow. Your pussy clamped down on him rhythmically, milking his cock as wave after wave of pleasure tore through you. The tears flowed freely now, mixing with drool on the pillowcase as you completely fell apart.

"Fuuuck, that's good," Gojo grunted, his hips stuttering as your walls strangled him. But he didn't stop—didn't even slow down. He fucked you straight through your orgasm, extending it until you were shaking, oversensitive and overwhelmed. "One more. Give me one more, pretty girl. I know you've got it in you."

"I can't—I can't, it's too much—" But even as you protested, you could feel it building again, impossibly fast, stacking on top of the first orgasm before it even finished.

"Yes you can." His voice was pure sin against your ear. "You're gonna cum again, and then I'm gonna fill this tight little cunt up. That's what you want, isn't it? Want me to fuck this pretty pussy?"

Those filthy words pushed you right over the edge again, a second orgasm ripping through you even harder than the first. You screamed—actually screamed—as your vision went white, barely aware of Gojo's groan as he finally buried himself deep and spilled inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting, his softening cock still plugging you full of his cum. His arm loosened around your throat, hand coming up to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder. "My pretty little crybaby."

◟ Geto Suguru ໒꒱ .

Cowgirl

Your thighs burned as you bounced on Geto's cock, his thick cock stretching you with every drop of your hips. His dark hair fanned across the pillow beneath him, those sharp eyes watching you with an intensity that made your skin flush even darker.

"That's it," he murmured, big hands gripping your waist to guide your rhythm. "Ride it like you mean it, sweetheart. Show me how badly you need this cock."

"Suguru—nngh—" You planted your palms on his chest for leverage, rolling your hips in a desperate grind that dragged his tip against your g-spot. The wet sounds of your pussy taking him filled the room, obscene and loud in the relative quiet.

His expression shifted, that sweet encouragement hardening into something meaner. "Did I say you could slow down?" His grip on your waist tightened, fingers digging in as he lifted you up and slammed you back down onto his length. "I said ride. So fucking ride."

"mmf—mmmh! Oh god—" The brutal thrust punched the air from your lungs, and you scrambled to obey, picking up your pace until you were bouncing fast and hard on his dick. Your tits bounced with the movement, catching his attention immediately.

"Look at these," Geto breathed, one hand leaving your hip to palm your breast roughly. "Bouncing right in my face like you're begging for attention." He sat up suddenly, the change in angle making you cry out as he somehow got even deeper. His mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking hard enough to make you see stars.

"Fuckahhh!, Sugu !" Your hands flew to his hair, gripping the dark strands as he alternated between your breasts, laving his tongue over your sensitive nipples before sucking them into his mouth. All while you kept riding him, your pussy clenching desperately around his thickness.

"Mmm, these pretty tits," he mumbled against your skin, teeth grazing your nipple in a way that made your hips stutter. "Taste so fucking good. Keep moving—don't you dare stop."

You whimpered but obeyed, grinding down on him even as his mouth drove you crazy. The dual stimulation was almost too much, pleasure sparking from your nipples straight to your core where he was buried so deep.

SMACK.

You yelped as his palm connected with your ass, the sharp sting radiating through your flesh and making your pussy clamp down on him involuntarily.

"Did I say you could slow down?" Geto pulled back from your chest just enough to look up at you, dark eyes glittering with something dangerous. "I can feel you getting lazy, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry—" You picked up the pace again, bouncing harder, faster, your ass jiggling with every impact. Another slap landed on your other cheek, and you moaned shamelessly at the pain-pleasure of it.

"That's better." His voice was sweet again, almost tender, even as his hand came down on your ass a third time. "See? You can be such a good girl when you try." He leaned in, capturing your nipple between his teeth and tugging gently. "Now keep fucking yourself on my cock until you cum. I want to feel this pussy squeeze me."

"Sugu, please, please—" You weren't even sure what you were begging for anymore. More? Mercy? Both? Your thighs screamed with exertion, but you couldn't stop, not with his mouth on your tits and his cock filling you so perfectly and his hands gripping your ass where he'd spanked you raw.

"Please what?" He was mean again, that sharp edge back in his voice. "Use your words or you’re gonna have to use your fingers to cum tonight, baby."

"Please make me cum!" The words tore out of you, desperate and needy. "I need it, I need to cum on your cock, please Suguru, I've been good, I've been riding you so good—"

"Hmm, you have been good." Sweet again, so sweet it gave you whiplash. He pressed a gentle kiss to the swell of your breast even as his hips started thrusting up to meet your downward movements, doubling the intensity. "Okay, baby. Cum for me. Let me feel it."

The combination of his sweet permission and his brutal pace shattered you. You came with a scream, your pussy convulsing around him as you collapsed forward against his chest. He held you through it, still fucking up into you, prolonging your orgasm until you were shaking and sobbing against his neck.

"Good girl," he murmured, stroking your hair even as his hips snapped up harder, chasing his own release. "Such a good fucking girl for me."

◟ Kento Nanami ໒꒱ .

Missionary

"There we go," he breathed against your lips, fully seated inside you now. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart. So perfect for me."

"K-Ken—" His name was a prayer on your lips as he pulled back and thrust forward again, setting a steady rhythm that had the bed creaking beneath you. His pace was controlled, deliberate—each stroke calculated to drag against every sensitive spot inside you.

"That's it." His voice was low, rough with restrained desire. "Let me hear you. You sound so beautiful."

Emboldened by his praise, you stopped trying to muffle your moans. They spilled out freely now—breathy whines and desperate gasps as he fucked you with that maddening precision. "Feels so good, oh god, you feel so good inside me—"

"You feel incredible," he returned, pressing his forehead to yours. "So warm and tight. Like you were made for me." His hips snapped forward harder on the last word, making you cry out. "Were you? Made just for me to fill up?"

"Yes! Yes, Kento, only for you—nghh!"

Something shifted in his eyes at your words. That carefully maintained control cracked, and suddenly his pace turned brutal. He braced himself better, hiking your legs higher around his waist as he started truly fucking you—hard, deep strokes that had the headboard slamming against the wall.

"You're doing so well," he groaned, even as he pounded into you without mercy. "Taking everything I give you. Such a good girl. My good girl."

The praise combined with the rough pace had you spiraling fast, pleasure coiling tight in your belly. "Kento, Ken, I'm gonna—I'm so close—"

"I know, sweetheart. I can feel you squeezing me." He shifted his angle slightly, and suddenly every thrust was grinding against your clit while his tip battered your g-spot. "Go ahead. Cum for me. Show me how good I make you feel."

"Fuckfuckfuck!" You were babbling, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes as the pressure built to an unbearable peak. "I need it, I need to cum, Kento please let me—"

"You have my permission." He kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans as you shattered beneath him. Your pussy clamped down on his cock rhythmically, milking him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. He fucked you through it, murmuring praise against your lips the entire time.

"Beautiful. So beautiful when you cum. That's my girl. You're doing so well."

Your orgasm seemed to last forever, extended by his words and his relentless pace. When it finally ebbed, you were limp beneath him, oversensitive and trembling. But he wasn't done.

"One more," he said, and it wasn't a request. His pace hadn't slowed at all. "Give me one more, sweetheart. I know you can."

"Kento, I can't—it's too much—" But even as you protested, you could feel the pleasure building again, impossibly fast.

"Yes you can. You're my good girl, remember?" His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles that had you arching off the bed with a wail. "Come on. One more, and then I'll fill you up. You want that, don't you? Want me to cum inside this perfect pussy?"

"Yesss! Oh god, I want it—" The second orgasm hit you even harder than the first, your vision going white as you screamed his name. You felt him groan against your neck, his hips stuttering as he finally let go, spilling deep inside you.

He stayed inside you as you both came down, pressing gentle kisses across your face—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips.

"You were perfect," he murmured. "Absolutely perfect."

◟ Toji Fushiguro ໒꒱ .

Doggy style

"Look at that," he laughed, and you could hear the smug grin in his voice. "So fucking eager. Bet you've been thinking about this all day, haven't you? Waiting for me to come home and wreck this little cunt."

"Toji, please—" You wiggled your hips impatiently, desperate to feel him.

A large hand cracked against your ass, making you yelp. "Did I say you could speak, brat?" His palm smoothed over the stinging flesh almost soothingly before gripping hard. "Fuck, look at this ass. Made for me to ruin."

You bit your lip to keep quiet, even as your pussy clenched around nothing. His hands spread your cheeks apart, exposing you completely to his gaze.

"Dripping wet already. Pathetic." But his voice was thick with want, betraying his own need. You felt the thick head of his cock drag through your folds, gathering your arousal, and whimpered.

"What was that? I thought I told you to stay quiet." His hand fisted in your hair suddenly, yanking your head back hard enough to make you gasp. "Or do you want me to give you something to really scream about?"

"Please," you whined, unable to help yourself. "Please fuck me, Toji, I need your cock so bad—"

"Since you asked so nicely." He slammed forward without warning, burying his massive length inside you in one brutal thrust. You did scream then—his cock was huge, stretching you to your limits, filling you so completely you could barely breathe.

"Fuck baby, how are you tight," he groaned, his grip on your hair keeping your back arched painfully as he bottomed out. "Forgot how small this pussy is. Barely fits around me."

"T-too big—" The words came out broken, tears springing to your eyes at the intense stretch. "You're too big, I can't—"

"You can and you will." He pulled back and slammed forward again, setting a punishing pace that had you seeing stars. "This pussy's gonna take every fucking inch whether it likes it or not."

The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your desperate moans and his rough grunts. His hand stayed fisted in your hair, using it as leverage to pull you back onto his cock with every thrust.

"Look at you," he laughed breathlessly, "taking it like the desperate little slut you are. Bet you love this, don't you? Love being used like a fucking toy?"

"Yes! Yes, I love it, I love your cock—ohgodohgodohgod—" You were babbling, words spilling out without thought as he rearranged your insides. He was so deep, hitting spots you didn't know existed, making your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

"That's what I thought." His free hand came down on your ass again, the sharp sting making you clench around him. "Cockhungry little whore. Can't even think straight when you're getting fucked, can you?"

"N-no, can't think—only you, only your cock—Fuckkk!" He'd changed his angle, and now every thrust was punching against your cervix, pleasure-pain that had you sobbing into the mattress.

"Gonna cum already? I can feel this slutty pussy squeezing me." His pace somehow got even faster, harder, the bed frame protesting loudly beneath you. "Go ahead then. Cum on my cock like the desperate little thing you are."

"Toji, Toji, ji!" His name was the only thing you could say as your orgasm crashed through you, your entire body seizing as you came harder than you ever had in your life. Your pussy strangled his cock, milking him desperately as wave after wave of pleasure tore through you.

"Fuck yeah, that's it," he growled, fucking you through your orgasm without mercy. "Squeeze that cock. Milk every drop out of me."

He came with a groan, burying himself to the hilt and flooding your insides with his release. You could feel it—hot and thick, filling you up until it started leaking out around his shaft.

He stayed inside you for a long moment, both of you panting. Then he pulled out suddenly, making you whimper at the loss.

"Don't move." His voice was still rough, satisfied. "I want to watch my cum drip out of you."

◟ Sukuna Ryomen ໒꒱ .

Mating press

Sukuna's massive form loomed over you, his four arms caging you in against the bed. His cock—god, his cock—was enormous, inhuman in its size, the thick head already pressing against your entrance. You'd never taken anything that big. You weren't sure you could.

"K-kuna—" Your voice trembled, a mix of fear and desperate arousal. "I don't know if it'll fit—"

"It'll fit." His grin was cruel, all sharp teeth and malicious intent. "I'll make it fit." Two of his hands gripped your thighs, folding you nearly in half until your knees were pressed to your shoulders. "And you're going to take every inch like the pathetic little slut you are." He pushed forward, and you moan loudly.

The stretch was unreal—bordering on too much, your pussy struggling to accommodate his monstrous girth. He didn't stop, didn't give you time to adjust, just kept pushing until he was fully sheathed inside you. You could see the bulge of him in your stomach, could feel him in your throat, impossibly deep.

"Look at that," he purred, one hand pressing against the bulge. "I can see myself inside you. Your tiny little cunt stuffed full of my cock." He pressed harder, and you wailed. "Can you feel that? Feel how deep I am?"

"Too deep—too much—" Tears streamed down your face, but your pussy was clenching around him desperately, betraying how much your body craved this despite the overwhelming stretch.

"Shut up." He pulled back and slammed forward, punching a scream from your lungs. "You'll take what I give you and be grateful for it."

He started fucking you in earnest then, brutal thrusts that had your entire body jolting with each impact. The mating press position left you completely at his mercy, folded in half and pinned beneath his massive body, unable to do anything but take it.

"This is what you were made for," Sukuna growled, his pace relentless. "A tight little hole for me to fuck. To fill up with my seed until you're dripping with it." His claws dug into your thighs, drawing thin lines of blood that only seemed to excite him more. "You want that, don't you? Want me to knock you up?"

"Yes!" The word tore out of you before you could stop it. "Please, please breed me, fill me up, I need it—"

"Pathetic." But he was grinning, clearly pleased by your desperation. "Begging a king to put a baby in you. What a dumb little slut."

His pace increased impossibly, the wet slap of his hips against your ass echoing through the room. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock dragging against your walls, stimulating nerves you didn't know you had.

"Gonna cum—nghh," you gasped, the pressure building rapidly. "Gonna cum on your cock, please let me—"

"Did I say you could cum?" His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. "You cum when I tell you to cum. Understood?"

"Please, please, I can't hold it—" You were sobbing now, your body trembling on the edge of release. "Kuna, please, I'll do anything—"

"Anything?" His grin sharpened. "Then beg me to breed you. Beg me to fill this pretty cunt with my seed. Convince me you're worthy of carrying my offspring."

"Please breed me!" The words spilled out desperately. "Please fill me up, I need your cum inside me, I want to be so full of you, please kuna!, I'll be so good, just please let me cum—"

"Good enough." His hand tightened on your throat as his hips pistoned faster. "Cum. Now."

Your orgasm hit like a freight train, your entire body convulsing as you screamed his name. Your pussy clamped down on his massive cock so tight it was almost painful, milking him desperately.

He came with an animalistic roar, burying himself impossibly deep as he flooded your womb with his release. You could feel it—so much cum, filling you up until your stomach actually distended slightly from the sheer volume.

"That's it," he growled, still pumping into you. "Take it all. Every last drop.”

◟ Choso Kamo ໒꒱ .

Spooning

"Is this... is this okay?"

Choso's voice was soft, uncertain, his chest pressed against your back as he held you close. His cock was already inside you, had been for several minutes now while he worked up the courage to actually move. You could feel him trembling slightly, overwhelmed by sensation.

"It's perfect," you assured him, reaching back to thread your fingers through his dark hair. "You can move whenever you're ready."

"I just—" He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "You feel so good. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me, Choso." You rolled your hips back against him gently, making him gasp. "I promise. I can take it."

"But I'm—" He cut himself off, embarrassed. "I've been told I'm... b-bigger than average. I don't want to—"

You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you. "Baby, I know. I can feel it." His cock was stretching you deliciously, filling you so completely. "And it feels amazing. Please, Choso. I need you to move."

He made a small, desperate sound against your neck, and finally—finally—his hips pulled back and pushed forward in a tentative thrust.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, the drag of his thick length against your walls sending sparks through your entire body. "Yes, just like that. Keep going."

"You—you like it?" He sounded genuinely surprised, even as his hips started finding a rhythm. "It doesn't hurt?"

"It feels so good," you assured him, pushing back to meet his thrusts. "You feel so good inside me, Choso. So big and thick—"

He whimpered—actually whimpered—at your words, his pace increasing slightly. "I didn't know—no one ever told me—"

"That your cock is fucking perfect?" You clenched around him deliberately, making him moan. "Because it is. Stretching me so good, filling me up just right—"

"Please," he gasped, his arm tightening around your waist. "Please don't say things like that, I'll—I won't be able to—"

"Won't be able to what? Control yourself?" You rolled your hips back harder, fucking yourself on his cock. "Good. I don't want you to control yourself. I want you to use me."

Something snapped in him at your words. His hips started moving faster, harder, that tentative rhythm becoming something more desperate. His teeth found your shoulder, biting down gently as he thrust into you with increasing urgency.

"Is this—am I doing it right?" Even now, even as he was fucking you harder than before, he was seeking reassurance. "Does it feel good?"

"So good, Choso, so fucking good—" You were moaning freely now, the angle of the position letting him hit your g-spot with every thrust. "Harder, please, I can take it—"

He obeyed, his hips snapping against your ass with enough force to make the bed creak. "You're so tight," he gasped. "I can barely fit—is that normal? Am I too big?"

"You're perfectahhh!," you assured him, even as your eyes rolled back from the stretch. "Just the right size to ruin me."

"Ruin—?" He sounded scandalized and aroused in equal measure. "I don't want to ruin you, I want to make you feel good—"

"You are, baby, you are—" You reached back to grip his hair, pulling him closer. "I'm gonna cum, Choso. You're gonna make me cum on your big cock."

"Really?" The wonder in his voice was almost heartbreaking. "I can do that?"

"Yes, yes, right there, don't stop—fuck!" The pressure crested and broke, your orgasm washing over you in waves. You cried out his name, your pussy clamping down on him rhythmically.

"Oh—oh god—" Choso's hips stuttered, the sensation of you cumming around him clearly overwhelming. "I'm going to—I can't hold—nghh"

"Inside," you gasped. "Cum inside me, please, I want to feel it—"

He came with a broken moan, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you. You could feel his cock pulsing, filling you with warmth. His whole body shook against yours, overwhelmed by pleasure.

"That was..." He trailed off, panting against your neck. "I didn't know it could feel like that."

"We're just getting started," you promised, squeezing around him gently. "