U Can't Tame Me

| 20 | Female | Straight | MDNI!| Read pinned post before interacting!

[yoursubmissivebrat]

❗ READ BEFORE INTERACTING❗

Introduction ✨

➤ Name : Letzy (call me Zy for short and it's not my real name)

➤ Age : 20

➤ Race : Asian

➤ Height : 150cm

➤ Gender : Female

➤ Sexuality : Straight

➤ Status : Single

➤ Personality Type: Ambivert

I LOVE: Singing, dancing, watch different kinds of movies and reading dark romance books (inbox is open for book recommendations).

I came here to enjoy and EXPRESS myself on any topic I feel like ESPECIALLY NSFW. Please note that all of my posts are MINE and I hope we all get along!💗

KINKS & FETISHES;

BDSM, Dd/lg, CNC, Mask kink, Size kink, Corruption kink, Breeding kink, Breath play, Dirty talk, Voice kink, Ownership kink, Praise and Humiliation kink, Fear play, Overstimulation and Stigmatophilia.

OFF LIMITS;

Spitting, slapping, beating, urinal and swallow pee, no older than 30, asking for pics and videos, sending pics, videos, gifs without my consent, ageless blogs, no profile pic, and discrimination to one's race, physics and opinions.

ADDITION!

My dm is only open for those I follow, but my inbox is open for all so yall can ask me anything. I would love to talk to y'all whether it'd be intimate or friendly! I have 0% social skills so I won't be chatting anyone first. That's it, thank you and enjoy my blooogggg! 💗

PS: I DO NOT TOLERATE any disrespect in my blog, ageless blogs will be IGNORED and please MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, I will not hesitate to block you.

[aransmind]

friends in another universe

[tonycries]

Cruel Summer - G.S.

Synopsis. The five times Gojo Satoru would rather díe than marry you, his (infuriatingly pretty, oh-so-irresistible) arranged fiancée - and the one time he comes back from déath to.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, arranged marriage AU, enemies-to-Iovers, 5 + 1 things, PINING, Geto and Shoko cameos, matíng press, big D, tummy buIges, GOJO’S POWERS, creampíes, maIe squírting, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, he’s FÉRAL, fíngering, chokíng, spítting, p talking, down bad Gojo, slight exhíbitíonism, making him PÚSSYDRÚNK, those Gege sketches, slight spoiIers, HAPPY ENDING, swéaring, pet names.

Word count. 11.5k

A/N. Oh y’all don’t know how those Gege drawings had me, I just had to…

“I’m never marrying you.”

“I’d rather marry a special grade curse than you.”

“Huh- I’m much hotter than a fuc-”

SLAM!

That sharp, pointed noise of a ceramic teacup hitting the winding table you were seated at had almost become ritual at this point. The first few jabs of an argument escaping the mouths of both you and the other heir being a signal for at least one of the grim elders to interrupt before either of you could ruin a four-hundred-year-old contract.

And with a stubborn huff, you’re leaning back into your seat on the tatami mat to appraise the boy opposite you.

Everything from his cropped, snowy bangs to the way his summer-blue eyes blazed into you. Honestly, if you closed your ears every time he spoke, he could almost be- nope, he was sticking his tongue out at you now.

The ever-mature Gojo Satoru; new head of the ancient Gojo clan, freshly-enrolled student at Tokyo Jujutsu High. 

And your soon-to-be husband.

All cooped up in this traditional meeting room, one where generations of matches had been made and very rarely broken.

A coming-of-age ceremony, where the two of you had officially been declared leaders - and an engagement.

Your engagement. 

It was a business transaction of sorts. One that didn’t require any input from either marrying parties, according to the council of elders who sat upon either side of the table and stroked their beards in smug success. 

You’d heard that several clans had physically fought over this chance, before the Gojo clan ultimately chose you. And you knew why - you were one of the very few that had something to lose. 

The chance to attend Tokyo Jujutsu High. 

In short, play sorcerer all you want for three years, and in return they’d be free to enforce an old betrothal alliance between your two clans and demand a powerful new heir to jujutsu society - a win-win.

Though- looking at your reluctant fiancé, still donned in his dark silk robes from his ceremony, you wonder if you really should have just run away as your friends from Kyoto had urged you to. 

And one look at Gojo’s scrunched-up face told you he might just be thinking the same thing. Delicate features marred. Pouty lips nothing of the whispered legends you’d heard of the young prodigy—a monster. A blessing. The strongest.

He sounded very much his age as he echoes, “I’m never marrying you.”

You open your mouth- “And I-”

“-will be part of young Satoru’s high school journey!” Your father puts a hand on your shoulder, lightly squeezing. Becoming part of the Gojo clan was just as big of an opportunity for him as it was for you. Apparently. “We’re sure the young couple will get over their pre-wedding jitters by the time they’re back from graduation to continue their duties- right?”

A tap on your figure, that was your cue to answer.

Instead, you just turn your face towards Gojo, look him serenely in the eyes, the sweetest practiced smile on your face- and flip him off. Pre-wedding jitters your ass. 

The gasps that cloud the stuffy summer meeting chamber atmosphere were almost comical. As if you’d just sprung out of your seat and made an attempt on the poor, sheltered heir’s life. Out of the corner of your vision, you think you see one member of the council clutch his heart and faint-

“Pffft–!” That slight snigger rips through the air in sheer contrast, and every pair of eyes in the room peaks curiously over at the way Gojo muffles a slight chuckle. 

Your eyes widen, you think you liked him better like this.

Almost as if he’d just sensed your thoughts, he’s schooling his face into one of a steady lack of emotion, lightly clearing his throat.

Though, you catch the pointed tips of his ears scorching cherry-red.

“Where is the ring, boy.” Gojo’s father was a stern man, and his commanding voice was just as cut-throat. Seated right beside his son in a mirror image of you and your own father, he didn’t have to be loud to make Gojo’s spine stiffen almost unnoticeably still.

Ramrod-straight, silent- the younger version of the former head stuffs one hand between the fabrics of his yukata. 

And you weren’t sure what sort of ring might be bestowed on you by the famed Gojo clan - you didn’t allow yourself to imagine it. Perhaps a clean silver to match their emblem? Perhaps studded with sapphires for their new head’s irises?

Whatever it may have been, you don’t get to find out.

Because in that moment, Gojo Satoru flashes you with the obnoxious plastic pink of a ring pop. The very same kind you’d sneak out of your estate to buy from that little corner shop down the road, fifty yen maximum. 

“Satoru.”

Make that twenty yen.

“What?” His voice almost lilts into a whine as he responds to his father - trying oh-so-hard to pretend nothing was wrong, and this was totally the silver heirloom engagement ring of his family. Just…smelling slightly of artificial strawberry.

Gojo senior pinches his nosebridge, “I swear to- if you are not serious about that damn- school-”

“It’s alright!” Your fiancé seems just as bewildered at your interruption as you are, and you narrow your eyes enough to tell him that if he messed up your chances at going to Jujutsu High then his blood would be on your hands. Strongest or not. Reaching out your left arm, “I don’t mind, truly.”

And while the rest of the chamber murmurs, Gojo leans over the table to slip his mocking engagement ring onto your finger. To be married. To be his.

Holding your hand in his larger, slightly roughened ones, “I’d rather die than marry you.” He’s crouching to whisper in a heated pant, each syllable sticking to your skin. Only mostly meaning it.

And you whisper back into his furiously pink ear—“And I’d rather marry a special grade curse.”

.

.

.

Gojo Satoru met you in the summer, like one of those heat-induced fever dreams.

Okay, perhaps that wasn’t the best comparison- but in his defense, penning flowery literature was never his best subject after he nearly caused a clan rift by comparing Zenin Jinichi to a bullfrog. 

It was a compliment, really!

But you were a whirlwind, one that left his world tilted and his skin sizzling with heat in the aftermath- in a bad way, of course! You were a bad fever dream - a pretty one, sure, dressed in your most decadent cerulean robes and a withering glare - but still one of those you think back to even months later. 

Even nearly a year later when he’s sixteen and had insisted on walking up the ancient stone steps of Tokyo Jujutsu High without his entourage of attendants and elders.

“Hello hello—” Gojo’s running his pale fingers through even paler, short hair to free it of pinkish cherry blossom petals. Looming around the naturally green gardens of campus, “Where is- oh!”

Just as soon as he was about to tug his opaque, round sunglasses off to inspect whether it would impress his fellow students- that lady working at the store said so, so it must be, he bought twenty-five! Gojo spots a figure leaned against one of the ancient oaks by the dorms. 

That velvety blue of the dress code was one that he could recognize anywhere after so many years of yearning for it. 

And before he can stop himself, he’s sprinting towards the dark blob as fast as his lanky legs could take him. Calling out, “Yoohooo–! Your one and only favorite classmate is here~”

“Ieri–!”

“Wait-”

“You-”

So caught up in both your excitements to meet your new classmate - one of Utahime’s friends who happened to be your age - you two didn’t notice the one, single thing that you two couldn’t deny. Right by your side.

Your betrothed.

You snarl, stopping short. “What are you doing here-” And he does, too, hands haughtily planted on either side of his slender hips as he leans in close.

Snapping at you, the brief glimpse of his electric blue eyes sends goosebumps down your body. “I could ask the same from you. Couldn’t resist my charms so you had to follow me, hm~?”

“I’m here to learn, obviously. Why are you here- to get exorcised?”

“Take that back! I’m here to learn, too.”

You knew that it was part of your betrothal contract that the two of you would attend Tokyo Jujutsu High, you knew that the two of you would end up seeing each other one way or the other. And you already knew your clan stowed that stupid pink ring away deeply at the bottom of your suitcase (where you’d hopefully never have to see it ever again).

But you still raise a brow at the flashy designer stamping on his shades. “…Really?”

And Gojo could’ve taken disgust- hell, he would have even welcomed anger. 

But that genuine, wondering confusion in your tone as you swept your eyes up n’ down his defensive stature made him flush- “H-how dare you- duel me. Right here, right now.”

“Haaah? You would duel your future wife?”

“Scared?”

“No, just wondering why you didn’t ask sooner.”

Scoffing, both of you dart your heads in unison to the girl with the shortly-cut hair that was following your argument like the fiercest of tennis matches. Immediately turning ashen-faced at your attention, and damn near devastated when Gojo happily keens. “Bob girl! Can you keep score of-”

“No.” She deadpans. 

Frankly, you wondered just how she managed to sound as if she’s seen every horror there was to see in the world already. Possibly because she already had, right there, but Shoko doesn’t spend her time answering your unspoken question.

Too busy digging in her jacket pocket for-

“Cigarettes!” Gojo squeals, never having seen someone his age take a puffed-out drag of one so close-up before. The clan always detested anything that would ‘stain the purities of the body’- and right now, Ieri Shoko looked like she couldn’t handle sitting there one more second longer if she didn’t have one. 

He points a lengthy finger your way, accusatory. “I blame you for this- somehow- you must have corrupted her with your ways and made her feel all strange like you did me.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah? I blame you for our marriage-”

And he’s uttering for the second time, “Oh yeah? Well, I’m never marrying-” 

But just as Gojo was about to whirl on his feet and flick out a few cursed tendrils of energy like he’d taught himself. He was thinking of calling this one ‘Blue’ after that shade of your robes the first time you met, and the way you were about to be it’s first-

A deep voice cuts off his train of traitorous thoughts- “Yeah- mhm, I’ve gotta go. My new classmates are here.” 

A new-comer. 

And the black-haired boy looks as if he’d no sooner flip his cellphone closed to end his ongoing call and pretend he never walked out of the dorms than join whatever mess he’d just walked in on. 

Amethyst eyes slowly swivelling underneath his tied-back bangs to look at a fuming Gojo…to an equally-matched you…to Shoko, already chain-smoking her fifth cigarette away by now.

“Actually…could you stay on the line for a bit longer, momma.”

.

.

.

“It’s legal if it’s personal property, isn’t it?”

You groan, “It’s not your personal-”

He quickly taps the polished handle- “Now it is.”

“That’s…” You’re squinting your eyes, as if it will somewhat blur and spare you the sight of Gojo Satoru attempting to steal that shiny red moped parked at the outer edge of campus. If anything happened, you didn’t want to go through the hassle of getting called in as a witness, at least.

Shoko puts you out of your misery as the one voice of reason, “Yeah, that’s a lie.”

Geto cups a hand over his gaze to fight off the breaking rays of sunset, voice amused. “Well, I don’t see any cameras here.”

“Perfect—!” Gojo sings, clapping his hands together as he stares over his ridiculously gaudy glasses. It was nearing the end of first year, early December wind your fifth uninvited guest as the four of you chose to stay over in the dorms for your first high school holidays. “The key’s still here so we can sneak out, buy me the best birthday cake in Tokyo- no, in all of Japan, and sneak back in right before grump ol’ Yaga-”

“Sneak off from who-”

And, there, was aforementioned grumpy ol’ Yaga. 

Running at full speed toward your deviant little group from the top of Jujutsu High’s stairway. Which, considering the tough, rocky path, wasn’t too fast at all- but the four of you just bolt.

Faster than you’ve seen anyone move during any cursed mission, if you’re being quite honest. 

Shoko running, phone in hand with a suspiciously blinking camera light that meant she was recording the entire ordeal. Geto urgently twisting his fingers into what you’d learned was his summoning technique - he’d meant to call his Rainbow Dragon for a rapid escape, but ended up manifesting the massive, sleek form of his Giant Catfish who scooped him up into the murky depths of its mouth and slithered away.

And Gojo? 

Oh, Gojo was letting out the most impressive high pitched squeal before he’s slamming something hard, and helmet-shaped on top of your head. 

“Wh- hey!” Before you can even register it, two massive hands are grabbing onto your waist to sit you down on the cushioned back of the moped. Backwards. “Wrong way-”

“I don’t know how to drive!”

Your feet hitting the side, your back hitting Gojo’s larger one, it takes only a singular split-second for him to jam that lil’ key and speed off down the stony path of the campus. With Professor Yaga yelling from behind and you yelping, “Gojo I’m gonna kill you-”

“My bad, I meant to grab Yaga.” He’s grumbling at you from the front, the roll of his eyes practically carrying on the whipping wind. 

“Yaga would’ve known how to seat a kidnapee-”

“You want to touch me?”

“…No”

“Scared?”

Your wide eyes watch the disorienting way the lush nature of the Jujutsu High passes by, as if you were stuck in a kaleidoscope. “No.”

He only hums, finally getting used to controlling the vehicle enough that he was mostly sure he wouldn’t crash into every upcoming tree. “Prove it~”

Wordlessly, Gojo slows down enough that you won’t be part of his definitely-opportune traffic accident as you shift your body ‘round. The faux leather cover creaking! once you rover your palms onto his shoulders for balance- “There.”

“Ever seen anyone hold onto the driver like this? Ya prude-”

“Fine-” You’re cutting him off- cutting yourself off by clinging your hands in a neat knot around Gojo’s firm core. And through the flashing shard of the side-view mirrors, you catch the way his ears burn. “You better not get an erection.”

Okay, only partly sure he wouldn’t crash into an oncoming tree.

The deep timbre of his voice cracks- “H-hey!” You knew how to push his buttons just so. “Gods- why’d it have to be you?”

“And why’d it have to be you.”

The part he doesn’t say out loud is that it would’ve been stranger if it was anyone else. 

Not that you needed to hear it- of course not, you were still his infuriating, bold- stubborn fiancée who was forced onto him, after all.

Yet, to Gojo who’s held close by you, and to you who was clinging onto him for dear life as the haven of Jujutsu High melts into the bustling city, he doesn’t think he’s had a more peaceful birthday.

It takes fifteen minutes for the two of you to ride to that cozy convenience store on the outskirts of Tokyo, and what felt like hours (but in reality was five minutes) to give up on convincing the elderly clerk that you both were totally not a couple out for an after-school joyride.

And then - as if the universe was directing its very own prank at your expense - only three for Gojo to grow impatient and throw a tantrum swerving the moped to and fro until you finally tore open that packet of sparklers bought as birthday celebrations.

Honestly, what else did you expect from a man who organized his own surprise birthday party?

“Cake? Check. These things? Check. Happy birthday to me~” He’s tipping the starlit firework upside down to draw bands of gold in the darkening air. “Must be in the top seventeen birthdays I’ve ever had-”

You scoff, your breath emitted as a small cloud. “You’ve only had seventeen.”

“It just dropped down to eighteenth thanks to you-” And you swear you see the strongest outline a dick in the air with his sparkler, you swear he purposefully made it bigger than the one you’d drawn. “And nineteenth if we get arrested for the moped.”

In response, you draw the biggest dick. One with his face. 

You were parked on the side of a lazy road, only the occasional car and Gojo’s wonderment breaking the tense silence - perhaps the most civil one you’ve had in years.

It was odd being out with Gojo Satoru. No sniping over your betrothal, and if he tried hard enough- he could pretend that there was none. That there might be. But for now, the two of you were just two classmates sneaking out to ransack your local stores, “If we do get arrested, I’m blaming you.”

He nods, dramatically. Bumping his broad deltoid against yours, “As husband, that would be my duty.”

“So…” You’re blinking, your own sparkler’s ashy ends drooping onto the ground. There was no doubt on your mind that Geto would not have mercy on the two of you for finishing about half of these sticks. But you had something else on your mind right now, “You’re saying you don’t mind-”

“Wait. wait, no, that’s not what I meant. O-of course I mind!” And Gojo doesn’t give you the time to call out the way his breath gasps- the way his voice shakes, the way he’s flushing. Furious, “Never- in my right mind- would I marry you.”

A ring of gold from the dying sunlight wraps around your irises and irritates him so much when you finally look away to rustle your hand inside the numerous shopping bags.

Airily musing, “Then, I guess as my not-ever-husband you wouldn’t want your not-ever-wife to gift you this-”

“I take it back, I’m marrying you.”

If the elders of your clan knew that all it took for Gojo Satoru to accept the betrothal would be a packet of extra, extra-caramelized popcorn then they would have had the two of you married off by yesterday.

“Make no mistake, this was meant for me.” It wasn’t. You did eye this particular brand too long before swiping it off the shelf and paying when he wasn’t looking. You did think of nothing but the plastic ring burning a hole deeply inside your skirt pocket. And the way he’d whined and thrown himself on the floor of the nearby theatre on your last outing to the city, when Geto refused to buy him caramel popcorn.

So you’d bought it- to shut him up and spare your poor throbbing temples, if anything. Of course. 

But you can’t help the words that tumble out of your mouth at the glowing expression gracing his features. “But- here- happy…birthday. I’m not getting you anything for the next ten years.”

He’s silent.

Pondering.

And he can’t think of anything more flat than a little ‘thank you.’

The red, red metallic bag with enough sugar content to put anyone but Gojo Satoru into a coma sits carefully where you’d plopped it into his arms. And he looks at it with the sort of twinkle in his eyes that you’d never seen before. “Well…If I brought Yaga instead of you, he wouldn’t have bought me this.”

“I take it back-”

“Thank you.” Almost as if realizing those awful, treacherous two words himself, he backtracks with a sputter. Strange, he should bug Shoko into doing some sort of heart check-up on him soon. “W-we’re married for as long as I eat these. And after that? Divorce, sweetheart.”

Pretending to wipe your forehead in relief, “Thank goodness-”

“Oi-”

“What-”

And with your grumblings and partially-filled bags in tow, he’s fastening the singular helmet on you - so fast that you think he might’ve just taken advantage of his powers to do so. 

Just to watch you strangle out in what was definite annoyance as he pets the plastic top as if you were a child. Smack, smack! 

“I’d be a good husband- not that you’d ever know.” Gojo sticks his tongue out at you, vrrrrr—ing the moped engine so that your snarky reply gets drowned out. “And next time I am bringing Yaga instead.”

He takes back those words soon enough when Yaga catches the two of you right at the gates of Jujutsu High. Trying to race back away on his brand-new moped. 

.

.

.

“So- you see” Long, white lashes flutter rapidly, “Take pity on your poor, sheltered student. The Gojo elders really didn’t teach me-”

“I should’ve set the mission sooner so that I could be rid of-”

Geto pipes up above Professor Yaga’s booming lecture, a hand raised in every ounce of solemn discipline that his best friend didn’t show. Another mission. Constant. “In my defense, it was his idea.”

Valentine’s day. Also the early first day of second year; and it only brought about more missions, a couple more students as first-years, and a slightly-longer haired thorn at your side betrothed. And, apparently, this - three annoying, grating voices muffling through the gaps of your dorm’s front door. 

“I call shots on not answering to that.” Utahime pipes up where she was sprawled out on your bed and knitting her brows at your interrupted girl time. It’s not often that she gets time off from Kyoto to bother her only friends in Tokyo.

Snickering at Shoko’s absent-minded ‘ditto’ and Haibara’s- why was he even here, anyway - “I could! But maybe you should do it, he is your fiancé!”

Utahime cackles, face twisting from mirth to disgust when she inspects that plastic ring from where she’d dug it up from your drawer. “On Valentine’s day, too- oh I would rather die if I were you.”

It takes you a few moments to realize that all three occupants of your bedroom were staring at you for an answer. Pointing at yourself, “M-me?” Facing Haibara, “And why do you know that- you’ve been here for a day.”

He smiles, dazzling. “Ah, Gojo-senpai was telling us- it was why Nanami was trying to call home and leave.”

“Oooo, you heard the man.” Shoko presses a few buttons on her phone, and you hear the suspicious beep–! of the camera starting. Only incriminating herself further when she’s raising it upwards and flapping her hands forwards to urge you to open the door.

You groan, “Next time, we are not having girl’s night in my roo- wait.” And it had never caused you any trouble to leave and enter your dorm, it had never taken you more than a gentle push to open your door. So why was it that it just refused to open right now- “What the-”

It’s as if the door was locked from the outside somehow. 

Shoko leans in further with her recording camera as you prod, as you turn your shoulder to hit the wooden pane and shove- 

“Why- isn’t this-” You’re hissing through grit teeth, feet planting firmly on the surface and cracking open the bedroom door inch by inch. Gasping, “-open-ing–!”

And the sight before you was one you’d remembered for years.

Not just because smack-dab front n’ center to your vision was a pathetically kneeling Gojo Satoru, cowering in front of your looming teacher- but because of what was actually blocking your entryway. 

It wasn’t some lock on the outside as you’d suspected, it wasn’t a large desk or anything of the sort. It was a massive, heaping pile of buttons. 

Gold with bits of purple. So many that it was almost as tall as your door.

“What. The. Hell.” Your deadpan voice cuts Gojo off in the midst of some complaint to Yaga about ‘why is it named the Vessel Mission anyway, that’s stupid.’ And three sets of eyes snap to you as they finally register your entrance. 

“Ah…” Geto’s the first one to break the silence of your impromptu staring match, even though Gojo was pointedly staring away. Eyes twitching the longer his best friend stared at the mountain of buttons on your doorstep, he looked exhausted. “Satoru, care to explain?”

He’s gulping, “You see, this all has a very reasonable explanation and a very reasonable line of thinking-” 

“It’s all Satoru’s fault-”

“What-”

“Of course, it is.” Yaga rubs his aching temples, as he often seemed to do whenever he was around his group of second-years for just a minute too long. The older man turns to you with a weary, tired expression - and you make note of his dark circles, “This is the fifth pile of second buttons I cleaned from your door today- this hour.”

Ah, that explained it.

And it feels like your brain had just short-circuited, “Oh…wait- second buttons-?” Nevermind how he’d come across so many. Bought, most likely.

“I told you the elders taught me nothing-” Gojo squawks, scrambling onto his feet. He’s flailing his hands about, it was not his fault he didn’t know that second button meant…a confession. Or the fact that Geto hadn’t bothered to tell him and only watched with an easy smile as he made a fool of himself. “It was a prank- a prank! And his idea- he helped! I was going to block your door with buttons-”

“-second buttons.”

“-and make you all huffy and puffy that way you get-”

“-on Valentine’s day.” You’re finishing off, arms crossed. Carefully scrutinizing up at him- he hadn’t come across a growth spurt since last semester, he’d rammed into one at full speed. You shudder, in disgust, surely. “Did the elder’s hypnotize you or is there something you’re not telling me…”

And he hates it.

He hates how you look right through him in a way that induces some sort of heart condition in him- and Gojo would know, he’s visited every doctor in Tokyo just because of it. They all laughed. 

One even wrote up his letter of resignation.

Sputtering, ears pink in anger- and Gojo was glad that his pale hair had grown out just enough to cover it. Strangely. “Y-you wish, ex-wife.”

You’re swatting the back of his soft locks, and Geto doesn’t note how Gojo seemed to have put down limitless so you could swat him.

“Dickhead.”

“Delinquent.”

“Blind mouse-”

Gasping, he clutches onto the frame of his shades. “Oh, now I really don’t wanna marry you-”

Yaga’s had enough. 

“Enough!” 

One of the veins near the side of his forehead nearly pops, and you step back with a wince at the oncoming scream- Gojo shuffling behind as if he was bravely offering you up for sacrifice. 

“Enough- enough with the- the confessions-” Yaga spears a finger straight at Gojo’s directions and speaks over his protests. “-and the flirting! Flirt after the mission-” Then at you, and you could hear your friends cackling from either side. “Detention for everyone!”

Dammit- another line on your divorce document. 

.

.

.

You didn’t get to ‘flirt’ after that Star Plasma mission - not that you would, but still.

In fact, you didn’t get to do all that much after tasting death so close to your little haven at Tokyo Jujutsu High. 

And life goes on, sometimes leaving those behind.

And other times honing others who choose to stay and snap-

“It’s Suguru.”

“I know.”

The defection of Geto Suguru. The murder of his parents. His mother.

Your voice was more empty than he’d ever heard it- and he wanted you to scream at him, he wanted you to sob. Anything and everything other than the trained, stable tone that clashed against everything he was feeling right now.

But you only stare out into the yolky yellow tint beaming over the sprawling grounds. Sat on the flat, stone staircase of campus with your knees hugged to your chest- and he was close enough on the steps to hear your low mutter. “I’ll be leaving, too.”

Gojo’s head snaps to you- “What?”

“It’s my clan.” You’re swallowing, refusing to look at him directly. And that in and of itself almost hurt as much as when you did- and, for perhaps the first time, he’d rather have his heart race in those strange little palpitations. Right now, it was just heavy. “And yours. They don’t think it’s safe for a ‘future Gojo bride’ to be so close to danger.”

“Then we won’t marry.” He’s declaring, snowy brows set stubbornly.

“I know.” You lilt your head back to watch the sluggishly swimming clouds above, likely the last time you will from here. The council will be here tomorrow, and with them, your departure. You had that silly pink ring on your little finger, he notices. “I’m leaving.”

“I already said we won’t-”

“No, dickhead. I’m leaving.”

Widened, quivering blue peripherals lock onto you- and Gojo’s rosy lips part into a soft oh! 

He knew what you meant- hell, when he first wanted to enroll in this damn school, he’d threatened to leave the clan over and over until they’d finally relented. And suddenly he’s hit with the loss of his little group - no more missions, no more convenience store runs, no more you.

You were to graduate in a year, with only half the students left in both your grade and the one below. Nanami wasn’t even going to become a sorcerer anymore, not after Haibara. 

And he knew - he just felt - that you won’t be there for it. That you might never be. 

How he wished to run, too.

“Utahime’s friends with that one special grade sorcerer- Yuki Tsukumo. I’m leaving with her today to continue training my own way.” You’re continuing, hands flexing in your lap. “And leaving the clan. Officially.”

Huffing, “What? Gonna leave your poor husband at the altar—?”

“Like I’ve always wanted to.”

“Without even a kiss for the bride?” And he doesn’t know why he says it. Even more, he doesn’t know why he holds the line of your gaze and can’t bear to look away, even as his heart starts up that familiarly strange ba-dump–! rattling his chest. 

The tips of his ears tinging the very same blood-red as the sun now, Gojo thinks he can hear his eardrums whistling once you lean in. Once you close your eyes. And once you press your lips to his plush, soft ones for a mere single second. 

“There-” You’re murmuring, trying to sound stern even though the waver in your voice gives you away. “Now you’ve been deflowered and can’t complain. You’re an absolute curse, you know that?”

And, suddenly, he gets it.

Oh, so that was why all those cardiologists he visited laughed at him for about a year straight. 

He gets it.

Chuckling bitterly, of course. Of course, he has to understand now. Of course, he loses every shred of sun just as soon as he closes his hands- because for what reason should a weapon crave normalcy? Crave sealed fate? For what right should he demand that you stay here to bind you to him? 

His mouth quivers, head turning so that you won’t see the wet glitter of his eyes in the dying daybreak. “So now I’m a special grade and a curse? Does that make me the special grade curse you want to marry?”

Your flip phone buzzes, and he already knows it’s time. Standing up, “You had the curse part down pat even before you were a special grade. Probably why your bride’s running off, Satoru.”

It was the fifth and last time that Gojo Satoru would be declaring that stupid sentiment. Smile only half-true. It was a cruel summer.

But he always was good at waiting.

Gojo tugs on that cold second button of his uniform, calling out in place of a goodbye. “Good thing we won’t be getting married, sweetheart~”

.

.

.

Itadori Yuji has spied on his teacher’s phone before.

He didn’t mean to–he swears it! And was it even that much of an invasion of privacy if he simply glanced over at the glaring lockscreen wallpaper? Surely, it wouldn’t have been as bad as if he had peered over Gojo’s shoulder when he actually unlocked his phone…

…Okay maybe he had seen a snapshot of the older man’s home screen as well, but like he said- it was an accident. Flickering his curious eyes over as he opened up his catalogue of movies during their training together. 

But what wasn’t an accident was just how vividly he remembered each wallpaper. 

On his lockscreen; taken from the inside of what looked like one of Tokyo Jujutsu High’s dorms, with a massive pile of toppling buttons in the center and a much younger Gojo Satoru (and someone who looked faintly like Kenjaku?) kneeled on the floor. Clearly being punished.

Yet, what was most interesting was the scowling, arms-crossed figure of another student he was staring up at. Unable to tear his eyes away, even through his shades.

It was you.

That familiar face also featured in Gojo’s home screen - a more blurry photo, this time, as if it was still in motion. Of his teacher in the process of scrambling onto a shiny red moped, keys turning, with you stowed away in the backseat - yelling and sat backwards. 

And Itadori tried not to think much of it, but he saw you in the small framed photograph that Principal Yaga pretended not to have on his desk, yet, polished every day. 

He saw you in the postcards that Professor Shoko pinned up on the packed bulletin board of her infirmary, amongst diagrams of dissections and slaughter. He saw you in the brief, blurry facetime that the other teacher, Utahime, from Kyoto was on during parts of the exchange event.

And he saw you at the foot of Gojo Satoru’s bed, after he’d won.

Older, more mature now - but inevitably you.

Itadori could tell, even in the forlorn way you were slumped over the side of the mattress in Shoko’s clinic, body half-seated on a chair like you’d been there all night. 

“You…” He’s breathing, making you stir against his will. 

You blinky your teary eyes up in groggy confusion, fingers instinctively tightening on the large, callused fingerpads of Gojo’s digits. “Huh? Oh, you must be Yuji. And Megumi, and Nobara.”

Itadori was just about to open his mouth and answer that no, he was actually just Yuji- when a disgruntled voice behind him makes him realize he isn’t alone. “We apologize for the trouble, we can come back later if you-”

“Oh, no no.” You wave Fushiguro’s words off as the three enter - well, as Fushiguro enters and Kugisaki shoves Itadori inside. “I’m sure he’d want everyone here when he wakes.”

Gojo had won in Shinjuku, but Satoru was still sleeping.

Famed eyes closed. Bundled in the arms of bandages and reverse cursed energy ‘round his toned middle, he was breathing in slow unison with the beep! of the nearby heart monitor. Alive. 

You really did have Shoko to thank later.

And Itadori knew that as a student he should be more invested in how his unconscious teacher was doing, but he just couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances over and over. Wondering just who you really were-

“So, is the wedding going to be anytime soon?”

Fushiguro speaks, and the rest of the trio gapes. How dare he ask something like that from a sorcerer so lovely. And wait- why were you chuckling? “Oh right-” Nodding down at Gojo’s large form, of course, he told his honorary son everything. “I am his fiancée.”

“His what-”

“How much did he pay you-”

“Kugisaki, don’t be rude-”

Fushiguro nods, “No, she’s right.”

“Unfortunately, only this.” You’re scrunching your nose as you answer Kugisaki’s question- pulling out a tiny chain from underneath your uniform with an aged, faded pink plastic ring pop.

And she responds like she’d been personally wronged, dragging her hands carefully down her eye-patched face. “Ohhh- I knew it- not only is he a deadbeat teacher, he’s a deadbeat husband, too.”

“To be fair I did leave him. Of sorts.” You wave a hand airily, already having heard from Ijichi about the fate of the higher-ups. The clans. Over the younger girl’s ‘understandable!’ “I just landed in Tokyo today, I wish I could’ve come sooner but- ah, well.”

“B-but…” Everyone looks at Itadori as he stammers out, cheeks burning a slight rouge once your hand drifts over Gojo’s exposed core. Whispering in one breath, “How did he get a wife so pretty…”

“Hey- that’s my wife you’re talking about.”

You could recognize that smug, simpering tone anywhere. You’d be able to pick it out from a crowd of thousands. 

Laughing- as he’s tackled into a hug by an overeager Itadori, and the falsely reluctant rest.

It was quite strange to see Gojo Satoru like this - not just laid barren and sprawled over some hospital bed, but without any of his usual blindfolds and sunglasses. Just like when you’d met. And he always was so honest with his eyes.

And he was back.

And you were back - after ten years.

Which is why Itadori and Kugisaki have to fight the urge to look away at the expression settling over Gojo’s serene face. Wondering how you - his fiancée, of all things - would react. Winning against the King of Curses was quite the accomplishment, even for the strongest.

Would you cry? Would you throw your hands over him as they just did? Should they actually get up and leave the room-

“You- you complete idiot.” Gojo half-wonders whether your strength could rival Sukuna himself once you strike down a punch to his scarred shoulder. Yelling, glaring- crushing him into a hug. 

Your voice is suspiciously thick once you’re gurgling out into the pale crook of his neck, “I thought you said you’d rather die than marry me.”

And they don’t know what they’re more surprised about- the way that Gojo had the audacity to say those words to you, or the way that Gojo had the audacity to listen to those very words and laugh. Head thrown back, “Sweetheart, I’d come back from death just to marry you.”

Pulling away, you take the longest look at your betrothed that you think you ever have.

Everything from his longer, still-snowy hair, tickling the tips of sparkling sapphire eyes. Slightly slicked back to reveal shyly red-dusted ears, and a cute lil’ dimple at the edge of his boyish grin.

He was still the same Gojo you’d left behind - even though he was taller, stronger. So much bigger that you could feel the flex of his deltoids underneath your palms, and the ripple of his beefy forearms looped around your waist.

He was still Gojo. Always beautiful. 

SLAM!

“O-oh.” You’re jolting at the sudden closing of the clinic door, clearly his students had left the two of you to some privacy, and you’re almost embarrassed. “We’re an awful example.”

“When have we ever been a good example?”

“Well, I could say that about you-”

He only tugs you closer, breathing out as if the first breath he’d taken in a while since Shinjuku. Since you’d been gone. “I missed my wife.” And the two of you knew you should alert Shoko by now, but you only stay still- with you nearly in his bed by now. 

For what felt like hours. Years. 

“Yeah? Well, I- I missed you, too. I thought I lost you.” You wince, “I’m sorry for departing so suddenly.”

It was sincere - but the feeling of Gojo’s smirk pressing up against the side of your thumping pulse almost makes you reconsider it. “I know how you can make it up to me, wifey~”

Scoffing, he was really ramming up the ‘marriage’ part of your relationship by now. “Nothing with buttons or mopeds or-”

“No no-” Lurching back slightly, the plush, puckered fringes of his lips lean in oh-so-closely. Until you could practically taste the saccharine sugar of his heated breath, “You know, I never got to kiss the bride.”

Oh.

Oh.

Then he’s kissing you- and you’re kissing him. And it’s all that you’ve ever wanted with the sharp, pointed ends of Gojo’s canines digging into your bottom lip to drag you back.

Drinking you in like a man parched- he’s finding life in your mouth. Slipping his tongue in past the spit-glossed crevice of your mouth and uttering a hot pant. “Please-” Manhandling you with his strong, scarred arms up to straddle him on the rickety mattress. “Please.”

And you’ve never heard the strongest beg like this.

Never heard him flutter his droopy lashes and look at you through starved, feral eyes. A translucent bubble of spittle sparkling by the end of his swollen lips, “P-please.”

Never heard him stutter. 

Clearly he’s reading something in your sultry eyes because Gojo’s hastily shuffling the two of you down the bedsprings. Head hitting the puff of his pillows, your ass hitting his sharp pelvis. 

Your fiancé holds you upright and rubs a clawing hand doooown the back of your spine, toying with the metallic zipper on your sorcerer’s uniform skirt. “Fuck that about hah- not marrying you.” He’s crooning out in a throaty tone, strands of white nearly covering his greedy gaze. “M’ready to consummate our marriage right here, right now.”

“B-but Satoru- you just woke up-” 

“So?” There’s something deep n’ dark in his tone that made shivers skitter up your spine. Attempting to clench your thighs together but all it does is make your outer pussy push against the smooth path of his white happy trail. “Your husband’s the strongest, sweetheart.”

And then you’re being roughened up- then your skirt’s bearing the brunt of being almost torn clean off your hips. 

Gojo barely even registered his power, not giving two shits if it meant that he got to admire your pale blue panties up close and personal. A firm hand groping your right cheeks help push your clothed pussy up until your slit strikes the edge of his chin, thighs now straddling his pretty, pretty face.

Rosy lips purring over that darkening wet splotch between your legs, “Bon appétit.”

“Shut up and just- oh, fuck!”

He’s flopping the pinkish crown of his tongue out just enough to dab a lil’ dewdrop of spit between your swollen pussylips. And it’s just all that it takes for the first taste of your saccharine pussy to coat his tastebuds-

“O-oh!” He gasps, his hazed peripherals widen. You’re faintly registering the way that the shiny overhead lights of the private room flicker- 

Gojo grins as you gape, “Did you just…”

“Guess m’not in control anymore.” He’s snickering, stuffing himself nose-deep into your cunt. And there’s such a primal hunger in him, the way he’s not even caring for your poor, sodden panties before he’s hanging his jaw open and slide-slide-sliiiiding the edge of his mushy tongue up n’ down your folds. “Heh-” A light goes out somewhere down the corridor. “Whoops.

He’s whacking his jawline on the soft inner parts of your thighs and it still isn’t close enough. Tilting his head just so to slip his damp muscle between your ruined fabric.

“Shit- shit, your tongue is sooo big.” You find yourself keening, hips rocking back and forth at a mindless pace. And, truly, you now knew why Gojo talked so much because his tongue was so-very-lengthy, already circlin’ your sticky hole, “Like you better- hck! better like this.”

And the way he looks at you gets you even more drenched, haplessly watching as Gojo opens his throat wide enough to let the cloying droplets of your slick fall down to his maw.

“Oh yeaaaah–?” Gurgling already with the beads of sap that soak the lower half of his face, he’s starin’ you right into your fluttering eyes once he’s tugging your panties to snap! back on your heated core with an index. “Whaddaya gonna do about it?”

Before you can answer - before you can even think, the very tippy-top dome of his fingertip coils slimily down your naked slit. He feels you - so soft n’ warm - for the first time and pants. “Gonna ngh- argue with me from here to make up for it? Hmmm—?”

Almost as if on cue, your pert pussy is letting out the rawest lewd squeeelch at his touch. Bucking wildly, “Are you all talk or what ngh-”

“Looks like you’re all talk.” And you seriously were so wet that it was dripping down Gojo’s handsome chin, rovering a few more solid inches of his index to keep pryin’ your cunt apart with a wet plap!

Then a second inch- and a second finger.

His probing fingers are so big that the gummy channels of your walls have to mold to each size and measurement just to take him. “Look at ya- taking me in sooo well but ya don’t even- sit-” One of his hands claws on your left ass cheek to hold you down where you were hovering your weight, the other sinking in—

You’re squealing at the press of his thick, knobbled middle finger curving against one of your most tender spots. “What if I suffocate-”

“Then suffocate me.”

“You just came back to life.”

“I came back to life just to ngh- see this pretty pussy.” Gojo snarls up at you, tugging you down. Pulling you. Manhandling you. He just wanted to French kiss your pussy until he had that smart mouth of yours stupid. And those silly lil’ panties were a barrier- 

Within seconds, he has shreds of your underwear tattered and ripped between his pearly whites. 

Looking like a fucking animal once he’s finally sitting you down properly and stuffing himself so deep that you nearly see his pale, straight nosebridge disappear between your folds. 

Snaking his tongue to stuff and stuff where two of his fingers were pumping in n’ out in n’ out in n’ out. You were being dually stuffed open, the sting of him stretchin’ you out and swiping the gooey bottom of your core just delicious. 

“Don’t mind- haaaa-” Breaths ragged, movements sloppy. Gojo wastes no time in pursuing his delicate lips and spitting, “-dying now that I got ta see her. Now that I got to- hck- taste.” 

Hand shaking where he slides it along your thigh, breaths stuttered.

He’s feeling your slick waterfall down with every lap and slash of his tongue, bearing no mercy. Your thighs rendered all jittery and sleek with a sheen of syrup every time he flicked the tip of his tastebuds on top of your clit. 

“I’ve been so fucking thirsty- sooooo fucking thirsty.” Gojo whines, and you swear his baritone voice cracks. Hitches. Hips rutting up into the empty air, “You know how long I’ve wanted this- do you have any. Fucking. Idea?”

He sounds genuinely ruined, spitting back into your treacly pussy just to follow the wad dooown the seam of your pussy with his tongue. 

A third finger puckers ‘round the edge of your entrance, and you’re whining once Gojo lazily slugs the first pad inside and scrapes the roof of your cunt. “Please- since when- ngh- s-since…”

Giggling, higher-pitched than usual. “Oh, sweetheart- you don’t even wanna know.” You’re whimpering when he’s swatting down the velvety edge of his tongue on your sensitive nub three times before pulling away. Smack-smack-smack. “Spit in my mouth n’ I’ll tell you, h-heh.”

Breathless, “What did you just ask—?”

“Scared?”

And Gojo’s pale brows raise when you’re hunching forwards just enough to grab his clammy cheeks, streaming out a glittery streak of spittle straight into his ajar mouth. “Not if it gets you t-to- shut up-”

You spit in his mouth, and from the slightly-angled turn of your head you catch the way that his throbbing erection twitches. 

His fingers thwack so hard your very bones rattle, and Gojo drools the knot of slick straight back through your hole. Letting the jointed bumps of his digits stretch rub your pussy all red and raw from the inside. 

“That’s it that’s it.” He’s goading you on, scouring the searchlights of his digits inside of you for that one fragile target. And you’re feeling him poke his fingertips into the nooks n’ crannies near your g-spot, making you see stars. “I’ve wanted you to shut me up- use my ngh- face since I fucking knew what it was. Heh- if you’re not scared-”

“As if I’d be scared-”

“Prove it. Ride me.” 

“I am-”

“Not enough.” Within just a single blink of your glassy eyes, Gojo’s raising his non-dominant hand up with enough cursed energy that the neglected ol’ blindfold strewn on the edge of his bed flies into his grasp. 

Twisting his thick fingers over the silken fabric, circling it over your neck and immediately hauling you further down- “Ride me. Ride the st-strongest like you own it- h-haaaah- I’m your husband, aren’t I?”

With every word, with every second he’s thrashing four exact strikes of his fingertips scraping your poor g-spot. Slurring out a damp sluuurp every time your sheeny pussylips are gobbling him up. 

“Yes- hck! yes.”

Grumbling, sleazy grin just glued to the knobbly tip of your clit. “Yeah- yeah, then use me like I am.”

Kissing right back every time he’s surging his head up and mazing the flexible ends of his tongue muckily. It’s so wet n’ long that you’re damn near feeling the scrape of his tastebuds by your favorite spot, sloppily—“D-don’t think m’gonna last, Satoru.”

Gojo audibly, pornographically moans as you start carnally hastening your tempo. 

Cumming on his face- fuck, this was the wettest of his dreams all those long, lonely nights. In response he only latches his strawberry-pink lips against your cunt further, feeling every hot gush flood his throat. 

And you were so close that Gojo was drooling- pupils stirrin’ around the whites of your eyes with every circle of his thick tongue, throat cracking with whines every time he’s slushily spearing your pussy with his fingers. Over  n’ over. 

Rovering alllll around to prick your tenderest areas with- fuck, now four of his fingers.

Your husband spikes the edge of your g-spot, hard. Pulling you down with the corner of his blindfold just to dig his finger in deeper, “W-wanna cummm— ngh- please.”

“Call me husband.” He cockily smiles over the rim of your cunt where he was devouring you like a feast. “Call me- nghh- husband and I’ll let you cum.”

“Please-” Grabbing a fistful of his hair to shove him deeper and hopefully quieten his teasing. “-h-husband.”

Gojo groans like he’s the one cumming, “Ohhhh- again. Louder.”

“Husband-”

“Again.”

“Husband– Toru–!” Pouting stubbornly, “Unless you fucking can’t- oh, fuck.” 

Both you and the protesting bedsprings sing out in embarrassing synchronization once he’s shoving you into your high with a soft, sudden zap–! of one jujutsu-coated fingerpad across your g-spot. “Cumming- nghhh- m’cumming m’cumming–!”

And it feels so good you lose your vision to pure white, it feels so good that you can only throw your head back and ride him through each one of your peaks.

Milking the highs of your orgasm in repeated, filthy drags of your hips that knock the top of your glazed slit against his buttony nose. Whack! 

“O-ohhh—” Gojo throws his head back at the sheer, sensual motion. It just feels so good having you slickly rovering your pussy over his gaping maw, chasing the heat of his tongue slithering across your clit. Your sweet insides squeeze around his long fingers that Gojo thinks he could just cum right then n’ there.

And he almost does.

Almost- with almost inhuman reflex, he’s sneaking his free hand underneath the covers to plug up his leaking, red-hot orifice. Drivelling out a few creamy cobwebs of pre before he can plop his thumb over it. Close one. 

You ogle with a parted mouth as he grits his teeth hard enough that the plane of his neck throbs with a few veins, “Fuh-fuuuck–!”

And if you didn’t know any better, you’d have claimed that sounded like a whine.

A whimper.

But before you can call Gojo out on it, he’s sitting nearly ramrod straight against the cool metallic headboard. Starchy blankets - all drenched and coated at the hem with your trickling sap - all but thrown to the bottom of the bed. 

“Don’t worry- hah-” Suddenly, you feel something hot and moist gliiiiide between your puffy core. And it was so thickly curvy that your folds are being smeared apart as much as possible, “Made sure to save the big one for when m’inside, sweetheart.”

Mewling, “Big one?” Pathetically swaying your mouth open the moment he starts suckling on your tongue like some cute candy, “You sure about that?”

“See for yourself, my wife.”

You don’t know what to gape at more. 

What Gojo Satoru looks right now - eyes hooded, face flush, ivory tendrils of hair slicked back with sweat, several layers of sickly sweet slick stuck from the tops of his cheeks and gleaming down to his jawline - or the way that his cock looks like right now.

He was completely naked underneath, and you’re mentally counting about nine inches- possible even ten. Ten inches of solid, barreling length scrubbed all red n’ raw with ribbons of precum. Bursting out from the hole at the top of his fat mushroom tip and all the way down to the soft white hairs at his base. 

Drenched.

And Gojo gives the left of your ass cheek a good spank when it seems like you won’t be talking any time soon. Too hypnotized. “There there- big, huh?”

You’re huffing, “Y-you wish.”

“No need to liiiie- s’all yours.” Something in him cracks when he bucks up ever-so-slightly to let the shiny bulge of his cocktip scrape down your slit, mixin’ a heady concoction of white pre and slick that makes him salivate. “Look at her- she’s sayin’ she wants more.”

“You’re pussydrunk.” Such loud squelching noises that he jerkily lurches his head closer to listen to, as if his favorite song.

“Hell yeah I am, my wife.” With a raspy chuckle, Gojo slips the circle of his divot just underneath your swollen folds and hisses. “Now- I won. Your husband ngh- won today, why don’tcha gimme my reward, sweetheart?”

Oh-so-ready to make him cry on your tongue, you eagerly start snaking your hand downward. 

Fist almost enclosed around the bulky cylinder of his hilt before he stops you right there. V-line hitting your pelvis as he fucks up, up, up- 

“Nononono- another time. Right now…” Gojo slouches back, liiiicking that candied glaze of your juices off of his right hand. One by one. Before cushioning it underneath his head and watching you through sexy half-lidded eyes. “How do you want me?”

You hum, pretending to tap your chin in thought. “How you’ve wanted ta- ngh- have me, Toru–”

How he’s dreamed of having you.

Of shoving his thick cock between your pussy folds and fucking that smug smile off of your face while you tried to snap back at him. And his body moves before his brain.

Your back hitting the dampened sheets, your shirt and bra puddling onto the floor.

He doesn’t think he can breathe, he doesn’t even think he can think—especially when he sees that pink plastic ring pop as a pendant on your necklace and leans down to kiss it.

Every ounce of blood sprinting down from his hotly melted mind to balloon up his shaft so hard and cherry-red. Gojo’s tip is practically bawling by the time he’s flipping the two of you over and swiping the hard, aching bulge of it down your cunt.

Your thighs on his shoulders, his pelvis against your ass. 

Eyes widening—a mating press. A fucking mating press.

Gojo’s barely even done folding you completely in half before he aligns the round, spheroid edge of his cockhead to crown your sloppy hole and rut. Gasping, he shuts his eyes firmly at the warmth. “Wanted this.”

“O-oh fuck–” Coming your jittery fingers through Gojo’s sweat-splattered hair. He’s just so big that just the feeling of his globular tip makes you see white. 

“Wanted this wanted this- wanted this.” Gritting his teeth, furiously. He’s hiking his thighs up so that yours are pushed all the way up to hit your tits, bending you with all his powerful strength. “Have no idea how long- I’ve wanted you like this. Always in this position.”

“Why this one?” It was so filthy - even for him.

“What? Your husband’s the ngh- strongest and you expect him not to put you in a mating press the minute he sees you?”

Spanking the slivery slit of your cunt with one hand, Gojo fucking angles his head and grins at the slight puddle of sap that collects on his wrist. 

“So soft n’ sweet-” He bends his knobbly thumb in to twist the button of your clit, licking his pink lips lazily at the way your arousal glitters further soaked. And it wasn’t just that- your husband was just so girthy that he’s tuggin’ your entrance apart to fit his heavy shaft inside. “Oh, always wanted this pretty hole begging f’me.”

Just as he speaks, Gojo slips yet another inch inside and makes your oversaturated pussy keen. “B-bold of you to assume- ngh- I’m the one begging.”

“Ohhh- she’s not?”

“She- fuck!”

Before you can even speak, he’s rolling his sculpted hips and slamming your spit-glued mouth shut. Cooing down with fluttering lashes, “What was thaaaat–?”

You feel a damn sob break at the back of your voicebox at the feeling of his rounded slit lodging against the treacly roof of your cunt. So wet that he’s constantly rubbin’ his veins back and forth on your walls, half-ruts. Half-thrusts. Just to fit in. “Fuh-fuck you!”

And then you’re swearing that Gojo grows harder. Bigger.

The corner of his head swelling up to an even thicker circumference that strikes your soggy cervix with a plop! 

He’s bottoming out with a breaking tone, “Who’s fucking who now?”

And now that you’d given him an inch, he was taking a mile.

Fucking you into the rickety clinic bed like he was trying to stop your cute, arguing mouth from shrilling out. Every swab of his bulging cock enough to make your tongue flood with cockdrunken spit, he pounds his entire length into you like he hates you.

Slap!

So hard that the skin on his prominent v-lines stains completely red. And Gojo isn’t even feeling the pain, he’s only spanking hard abs into your front again. And again. And again.

Mouth falling into a sagged oh! as Gojo tilts his head down and watches when your geysering cunt swallows him up from the ruby-red tip to the bulk of his base. Heavy balls just peeking out cheekily.

All the way up until his pure white tufts of hair scratchily massage your clit and make you rut. “There- there.” The flat mountains of his palm come creeping down your tummy to press as he sliiides inside. With a smile, “Inside. Fuck- it’s inside. Can feel me all deep inside, s’like you’re hngh- made for me.”

“S’just s-sooo big, though!” You’re whimpering once he rubs over the callous of his thumb right at the bumpy point of his mushroomy head spearheading in. 

Gojo grunts, “And what happened to me being small~” 

You clench in response- the only thing you can do. And it’s like the entirety of the chamber tenses with something thick coating each atom of the air. 

You just had to clench once and his cursed energy was lapping. Out-of-control.

So powerful that it might just be enough to cause alarm-

“Oh.” As if alerted by something invisible, Gojo raises his free arm towards the door. Lengthy lashes coating with a flicker of blue lightning- before, like nothing ever happened, he’s back to rutting and rutting. In long, methodical strikes of his bashing, bulbous head. Probing deeply into every ridge.

Before you can ask what was the matter, there’s the metallic jiggling of the hospital doorknob. Locked - by his power.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“I-is anything the matter in here?” Someone- you think it might be Ijichi - calls out from the other side. “The cursed levels were just so high that-”

“Listening to the voice of another man when I’m the one fucking you?” Gojo snarls out, two of his battle-hardened fingertips swatting the side of your cheek so that you’ll stop staring at the door. 

Not when he was looking at you like that.

And not when he was the one unsticking your left hand from the side of his muscular obliques, gently kissing your ring finger even though he was drilling into you ferally. “Don’t you think of anyone else when- haaah- I’m the one fucking you-” The fangs of his canines bite in to the flesh of your digit, “Not when I’m your husband.”

“Wh-what if he hears—”

The end of your whine is caught up in his mouth, gnawing down on your lower lip and draaagging. “So let him.” He melts his glissading abs down onto your core, making you feel every bump and scar. “Let him- fuck. S’our long overdue honeymoon- and you’re gonna fucking- take- it-”

Mewling, “Fuck- fuck yes. More.”

It’s like those words have him going mad.

Gojo’s slick orifice grovering into the very bottom of your pussy, he tugs back on the blindfold dangling ‘round your neck to arch you further. Letting his zig-zagged veins creep down your g-spot, precisely. 

“Yes- fuck. Your husband.” Repeating and repeating every time he hits your sweet splotchy areas. “M’your husband” And then he clings onto your clit, then he twists his wrist and lets the pads of his digits buzzzz–! with cursed energy. “Your husband.”

Almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

He’s departing his breath out in a scalding breeze every time you squeeze. Bodily shoving apart the inner parts of your legs with his large, flexing shoulders. 

“Please- please please-” You’re wailing out utterly raw, the top of your throat feeling like it was clogging up after every ba-thump–! of his sweetly leaking cock probin’ every space inside your cunt. Swelling up so big that it was almost hard for you to clench- “Feels so ngh- good–”

“Yeaaaah–? Your husband’s makin’ you feel all good, huh?” The strongest couldn’t even give a shit about the way your screams were reaching a fever pitch. 

Faster, sloppier.

Fingers starting to stain with a bright syrupy coating of your slick, he doesn’t even mean to- but he can’t help the way that the air touching his skin crackles with energy. Drawing out hearts on your perked clit like a lil’ bullet vibrator.

“Go on- say it.” He outlines a very obvious ‘S’ on top of your rugged nub that makes you quiver like a leaf underneath him. And then an ‘A’, a ‘T’, ‘O-R-U.’ Coaxing out your tiny whimpers, “Say my name—”

“Toru- hck! Satoru.”

He twitches, syllables taking on a shaky manner. “O-oh right, that’s my name.” Chuckling, fuck- did he forget his damn name? Just that drunk on your pussy that he’d rather just be called your husband forever and ever. His flushed face pushes forwards to bite on that blindfold and pull you back down, “Call me your heh- husband again.”

Just uttering those words makes him jolt his mushroomy, flared tip inside you until the ridge hits the door to your womb. His balls on your ass. Bruising. 

You almost felt shy as he hastily brings down one of your hands to caress his rippling core. From each washboard ab to scar, sensually. “H-husband. My husband.”

Shit- he needed to make you cum now or he was going to, already feeling a steaming drop of pearly liquid empty out from his balls. 

“There- there we- go-” And by now Gojo’s fucking you so hard that he’s starting to scrunch his partially-closed eyelids with the weight of big, sparkly tears of sensitivity. “Whatever my wife wants.” The crowned tip of his shaft red and swollen enough to burst, pushing and pushing. “Anything my wife wants.”

“I’m close-” You’re sobbing, reeling him in so close with a grasp of his tensed back muscles. And it was true, his Six Eyes was showin’ him the way your nerves were sizzling, the way your mouth flooded with spittle. 

He counts underneath his breath. Five. Four.

Lips wobbling oh-so-adorably, “Toru, m’gonna cum. Let me cum.”

“Ohhh— s’that what you want, sweetheart?” He rolls his thumb over your overstimulated clit until you scream a yes. “Cum then.” Three. Spitting on the hills of his crowned fingerpads, Gojo makes sure they’re tight with particles of cursed energy. Two. Before spanking down- “Cum, my wife.” One.

You don’t know who cums first.

But to Gojo Satoru it doesn’t even matter- all he needs is to make sure is that you were creaming all over his ravaged cock, and that he was there to pump all his columns of wadded seed inside. 

Room lights shattering, somewhere in the distance sounding with a sonic boom! Gojo fucks himself hoarse on your pussy until the expanse of his skin was littered with pure power and lightning. 

“O-oh my god s’too mmm–” Your mouth dribbles with sap, gooey walls of your cunt sticking to the sides of his veiny shaft. Every tiny drag of his winding lines makes your high explode- “There’s so- hah- so much of it-”

So much that it was overspilling. 

And Gojo can only glide the planes of his digits down the saccharine white sap that leaked from between your legs. Gluing his fingers to the stray gaps of your hole, and they were buzzing. “No wastin’ now.” He bites down on the plush gum of his bottom lip and still can’t hold back his snickers. “Gotta g-give you the ring- and my second button. Then take you out for a- a ride-”

He could almost laugh at the dazed confusion on your face, arching up his spine just so that his cock pummeled into you deep and stayed there. 

“A ride and then a real ride. On a moped.” Giggling at his own joke, “Take you to eeeevery sweet convenience store in Tokyo you ngh- missed out on. Tell each one m’your husband and we’re having a summer wedding.” Kissing you softly, “M’thinking theme colours blue.”

That in and of itself is enough to make his drivelling orifice stream out yet another jetstream of cum, wadding up the entrance to your womb with clingy sap. 

He finishes off with another lecherous slurp that makes you feel so hot inside that it was almost feverish. “A-and then what? S’this all for you big- ngh- honeymoon idea?”

“And if it is?”

“Should’ve left you at the altar-”

Gojo’s red, raw cock jolts. “Ohhhh- just for that m’gonna fuck you in every hah- convenience store, too. Maybe they’ll hear- doesn’t matter.” Grinning, he hikes up a thigh until he is gyrating just enough to swirl his pummeling length in circles. The plump curve of his balls digging into your ass, eyes glowing with blue in the darkness. “Your husband’s the strongest.”

You don’t know if you can do anything but scoff through your embarrassment, “A-and real humble, huh?”

“Well…” He tilts his head with a dopey smile, “Did I tell you that was my first time? Been savin’ myself for heh- marriage, my sweetheart.”

Fuck.

“I love you. Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

Oh- “I love you, too.”

And something in you told you that this was far from over.

Maybe it was the way that Gojo’s cock strikes the back of your cunt with a splosh of sap, slimily mazing through until it feels like he streams out a squirt of something. You’d just made him squirt- or maybe it was the way that he kisses your plastic engagement ring. 

Gaze delirious. Ears red. Fucked-out. 

“So…what was that they said about a Gojo heir, my wife?”

.

.

.

“The electricity has been suspiciously unstable today.” Shoko wrinkles her nose up at her completely shattered office lightbulb. The sixth today. 

Urgently flicking through her notes before she made a break for her most important patient as of late - the strongest.

Or, as she knew him, that damn Gojo with a penchant for tantrums and harboring a hopeless love for his betrothed. Often both at the same time. Speaking of said betrothed, she’d already shared a hasty greeting with you once you’d first arrived here- before you practically ran to the idiot’s room, that is.

Two peas in a pod.

“We have been getting strange him-level readings on cursed energy levels in this area since a few hours ago.” Utahime grumbles, barely out of the hospital herself but already steady at work as one of the new higher-ups.

“That so? Strange.”

“Yeah, and when I asked Ijichi about it he only looked pale and ran like he saw a-”

The two gasp. In unison.

“He finally proposed.”

A/N. Wrote this with a fever (Gojo was just that hot aha).

Plagiarism not authorized.

[serikai]

𑣲. SO EXITIN — ᨳଓ satoru comfort fucking you after suguru just finished punishing you.

CONTENT WARNING rough sex. angry sex. bruising. hair pulling. marking. jealousy. poly rs. comfort sex. suguru is an asshole in here.

the fight was already beginning to spiral out of control when geto’s voice cut through the chaos, firm and unmistakably commanding as he gave you an order.

“stay back.”

you hesitated for only a moment, your eyes flickering toward him before narrowing in irritation.

of all things he could have told you, that was the one phrase guaranteed to piss you off.

you weren’t some helpless civilian who needed to be kept out of harm’s way, and you certainly didn’t need someone constantly deciding when you were capable of handling yourself.

you tightened your grip, scanning the battlefield as you weighed your options.

geto’s approach was safe enough, but it was slow, and you could already see the opening he hadn’t noticed yet.

then your gaze shifted toward satoru, and suddenly, the answer seemed obvious.

his method would be cleaner, quicker, and far less likely to leave either of you exposed.

so you ignored geto.

without another word, you moved exactly as satoru would have, slipping through the opening and striking from the angle you knew would work best.

it was reckless enough to make geto’s jaw tighten, but calculated enough that you knew you could pull it off.

“seriously?” geto called after you, clearly irritated.

you didn’t even bother looking back.

if he wanted you to stay behind while everyone else did the dangerous work, he was going to have to learn that you weren’t going to listen simply because he told you to.

and, much to geto’s irritation, it worked.

the threat was dealt with cleanly, the curse was exorcised before it could cause any serious damage, and despite the way you had completely disregarded his orders, no one walked away with anything worse than a few scratches.

the mission was a success, an undeniable one at that.

you lowered your weapon, breathing steadily as the tension finally began to leave your body, while geto stood a short distance away, staring at you with an expression that was becoming increasingly difficult to read.

because that was the part that made everything worse.

if you had gotten hurt, if your decision had gone wrong, if satoru’s method had nearly gotten someone killed, geto would have had every reason to lecture you.

he could have pointed out exactly where you went wrong and told you that this was precisely why you should have listened to him.

but you hadn’t, you had been right.

and geto hated that he couldn’t even argue with the outcome.

his eyes narrowed as he looked at you, his jaw tightening slightly while you gave him an almost innocent glance.

“what?” you asked, unable to resist the small edge of smugness in your voice, geto exhaled slowly through his nose. “nothing.”

but the way he said it made it painfully obvious that it was absolutely not nothing.

but what you didn’t know was that geto had no intention of letting this go, not here, not in the middle of a successful mission where he had no real argument to make against you.

he knew better than to start another fight while the three of you were still out in the field, so instead, he simply swallowed his irritation and kept quiet, already deciding that this conversation could wait until the three of you were home.

and you would soon find out that geto was much more patient when he was angry than you ever wanted him to be.

by the time the two of you finally made it home, you had almost convinced yourself that geto had simply decided to let the whole thing go.

satoru had been held back a little longer, leaving just the two of you to walk inside together, and for a brief moment, you thought the silence meant you were in the clear.

you were wrong.

the moment the door closed behind you, geto’s entire demeanor changed.

before you could even turn around properly, he stepped forward and pressed you back against the cold wooden door, his sudden movement catching you completely off guard.

you stared up at him, stunned by the intensity in his expression. “you really thought i was going to forget about what happened out there?”

one hand braced beside your head while the other claimed your jaw, fingers firm as they tipped your face upward.

“you ignored me. you decided satoru knew better. in front of everyone. on my order.” a short sharp exhale left him. “do you have any idea what that looked like?”

his thumb dug just under your chin, pressure steady enough to make your pulse jump.

he leaned closer until his mouth hovered at your ear, body locking you in place. “we share you. that was the deal. but sharing never meant you get to publicly side against me.”

his free hand dragged your jacket off one shoulder then the other before settling at your waist and hauling you forward so your hips met the hard line of him.

“you made me look secondary. you made me feel secondary. and i do not let that slide.”

geto’s mouth found the side of your throat, not soft kisses but deliberate claims, teeth scraping then biting down hard enough to pull a sharp sound from you.

the hand in your hair tightened, yanking your head back so he could mark lower, sucking a deep bruise just above your collarbone while his other hand worked your pants open with impatient precision.

the moment fabric gave way his fingers shoved between your legs, finding you already slick, and a low humorless sound left him against your skin.

“look at that,” he murmured, two fingers slamming into you without warning, curling deep and rough. “already soaked. was it the fight that did it or the knowledge of exactly how this would end once we got home?”

he worked the fingers in hard ruthless strokes, knuckles pressing, thumb circling your clit with mean pressure just shy of enough to tip you over. “you disobeyed me. you chose him. and now you take what i give until i decide you’ve remembered whose order you ignored.”

he pulled free with a wet sound, spun you with a bruising grip on your hip, and shoved you chest first into the door hard enough that the wood rattled.

the sound of his own clothes opening cut through the quiet, a heartbeat later the thick head of his cock dragged once through your folds, coating himself, before he slammed in to the hilt in one brutal thrust that knocked the air from your lungs and forced a broken cry out of you.

one hand braced beside your head again, the other locked on your hip hard enough to leave marks as he set a relentless punishing pace, every snap of his hips driving you forward against the door with wet filthy sounds.

“you don’t get to go soft on me now.” he growled against the back of your neck, teeth scraping the skin there before biting down again.

“you wanted to decide whose judgment mattered out there, fine. in here you take mine. every. fucking. inch.” his rhythm stayed deep and unforgiving, hips slamming hard enough that the door creaked with each thrust, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the entryway.

he reached up, fisted your hair again and pulled your head back so your spine arched, changing the angle so he could drive even deeper, cock dragging over that spot inside you with every rough stroke.

“next time the thought of ignoring me in front of him crosses your mind i want you to remember exactly how it feels when i remind you who you belong to just as much as you belong to him.”

his free hand slid around your hip, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight mean circles timed to the brutal pace of his thrusts until your legs started to shake and your breath came in short broken gasps.

he didn’t slow. if anything he fucked into you harder, using his grip on your hair to keep you arched and open for him, the wet sound of your cunt taking him over and over filling every pause between his words.

“come on my cock while i’m still angry with you.” he ordered, voice low and absolute, fingers working your clit faster.

“show me you understand. soak me while i’m still pissed. then maybe, maybe i’ll consider forgiving the fact that you made me watch you choose him.” he slammed in especially deep on the last word, grinding against you, refusing to ease up even as your walls started to flutter around him.

and with that he hauled you up as if you weighed nothing, carrying you straight to the bedroom while your body still trembled around the memory of him.

whatever unfolded behind that closed door stretched across hours, rough, relentless, he claimed you that it left marks and exhaustion tangled together, until the only sound left was your slowed breathing against the sheets.

hours later the front door opened. satoru stepped in, hair slightly mussed, a lazy smile already on his face as he spotted geto freshly showered and stretched out on the couch watching whatever flickered across the screen.

“hey,” he called, his eyes swept the room once, twice, then narrowed when they found no trace of you. “where’s our wife?”

geto didn’t look away from the television. “asleep.”

satoru’s eyebrow arched, he crossed the space slowly, dropping onto the arm of the couch. “she usually doesn’t pass out at this hour. what did you do to her?”

geto’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. “reminded her whose orders matter when it counts.” he finally glanced over. “she’s fine. worn out. leave her.”

satoru hummed, unconvinced, already pushing off the couch. “yeah, no. i’m gonna check.” he headed down the hall without waiting for permission.

as he slipped inside the room met him with darkness and a lingering chill, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust before he finally found you buried under the blanket, only the top of your hair visible.

a soft apologetic pout pulled at his mouth as he crossed the space and sank down beside you with careful weight so the mattress barely dipped.

“aww, poor girl..” he murmured, voice barely above a breath, he reached for the edge of the covers intending to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

but the fabric peeled back to reveal a canvas of fresh bruises and dark hickeys blooming across your throat, collarbone, and the curve of one shoulder.

his hand froze mid air, brows drawing together as a low breath left him.

“that crazy bastard.” he muttered under his breath, the marks were deeper than usual, the kind of roughness that only surfaced when geto’s temper ran hot, most nights the three of you stayed far gentler with each other.

the shift in the mattress and the quiet sound of his voice pulled you from sleep.

your eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light, and the second they focused on him a soft smile curved his mouth.

“hey, beautiful.” you didn’t hesitate, the moment recognition settled you pushed up and all but climbed into his arms.

he caught you easily, gathering you against his chest in one smooth motion, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other settled warm and steady across the bare skin of your back, careful of every fresh bruise.

“are you okay?” he asked, voice low and close to your ear as his palm stroked slow circles over the unmarked parts of your back.

you only furrowed your brows against his shoulder, voice still rough from sleep and everything that came before.

“what took you so long?” a quiet huff of amusement left him, though the concern never fully left his eyes.

he shifted just enough to lean back against the headboard, pulling you fully into his lap so your bare legs draped over his thighs and your cheek rested against the warm solid plane of his chest.

“got held up with the higher-ups,” he murmured, fingers threading gently through your hair.

“by the time i got free and made it home, suguru was already on the couch looking far too pleased with himself.”

his thumb brushed the edge of a dark bruise on your throat, feather light. “i’ll deal with him later. right now i only care about you.”

he felt it then, the warm slickness seeping through the fabric of his jeans where your bare pussy rested against his thigh.

his gaze dropped, taking in the evidence, and a slow breath left him, you followed his eyes and immediately pouted, voice barely a whisper.

“m..sorry.”

a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. he tipped your chin up with two fingers and kissed you, he drew back his forehead rested against yours.

“don’t apologize for that,” he murmured against your mouth. “he didn’t even clean you up, huh?” satoru’s voice stayed soft “just finished and left you like this?”

he glanced down at you, waiting. you shook your head slowly.

“well… he went all in and then kissed me on the forehead after.” you admitted.

a quiet hum left him, one hand slid down your spine in a slow, soothing path while the other stayed cupped at the back of your neck. “of course he did.”

the words carried no real heat, only a knowing sort of resignation. “marks you within an inch of your life, fucks you until you can’t think, then leaves a gentle little kiss like that makes it all balanced.”

he shifted beneath you, adjusting so your slick heat pressed more firmly against the growing hardness trapped in his jeans.

“but you know…i really missed you..” you breathed out, pressing soft kisses along the sharp line of his jaw.

a low chuckle vibrated against your lips, “you missed me because he punished you?”

you shook your head quickly, “n..no! i really did miss you.”

satoru’s expression softened at the insistence. he caught your face between both hands, thumbs stroking over your cheeks as he leaned in and kissed you properly.

“i know, baby. i missed you too.” one hand slid down between your bodies, palm gliding over the bare skin of your stomach before settling between your thighs, fingers tracing lazily through the slick mess geto had left behind. “let me show you how much.”

he kept you cradled in his lap, legs draped over his, and simply explored with slow deliberate touches, two fingers gliding up and down your folds, gathering the wetness, spreading it, circling your clit with the lightest pressure that made your hips twitch.

every time you tried to push into his hand he eased off just enough to keep you wanting, a soft teasing smile playing at his mouth.

“so sensitive already,” he murmured against your temple, voice warm and full of quiet praise.

“look at you, still dripping from him yet opening up so sweetly for me, my good girl. always so responsive… even after he was rough with you.”

his fingers slipped inside with no resistance, curling gently, stroking that soft spot with lazy precision while his thumb kept up the feather light circles. “feel how easily you take me? you’re doing so well already.”

he kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the fading edge of a bruise on your throat, each press of his lips soft and lingering as if he could rewrite every mark with tenderness.

“i hate seeing you hurt like this,” he admitted between kisses, “but fuck if you don’t look beautiful all marked up and still so needy for more. my perfect girl… taking everything he gave you.”

slowly he shifted, laying you back against the pillows with careful hands, stripping his own shirt and jeans without ever fully leaving your space.

when he settled between your thighs he didn’t thrust in right away.

instead he rubbed the thick head of his cock through your soaked folds, coating himself, teasing your entrance with shallow presses that never quite gave you what you wanted.

every time your hips lifted he pulled back just enough, chuckling softly at the frustrated little sound you made.

“patience, beautiful,” he soothed, leaning down to kiss you deep and slow while one hand stroked your side, your breast, the curve of your waist like he was memorizing you all over again.

he nuzzled your jaw, voice dropping into that low affectionate tease. “you’re so wet for me already, my sweet girl. always so eager to be filled, aren’t you?”

when he finally sank into you it was inch by careful inch, giving you time to feel every stretch, every pulse of him.

a long low groan left his chest once he bottomed out, forehead resting against yours. “there we go… fuck, you feel perfect.” he stayed still for a moment, just breathing with you, hands roaming gently over every unmarked patch of skin he could find, praising you between soft kisses.

“my good girl. my beautiful girl… letting me take care of you.”

only then did he begin to move slow, deep rolls of his hips that never turned rough, each thrust full, angled to drag against the places that made your breath catch.

one hand stayed laced with yours against the pillow while the other slipped between you again, rubbing gentle steady circles over your clit in time with his rhythm.

“my perfect wife. let me hear you, baby. let me know how good it feels when i’m gentle with you.”

[gojosamor]

drunk in love

satoru gojo x reader. girls night is both satoru gojo’s least and most favorite night of the month.

warnings! 18+ mdni! p in v, squirting, doggy style, missionary. gojo loves youuu. shit is filthy.

note : second (kinda) drabble. gulp.

wc : 2.7k

“angel? i’m home!” gojo’s voice was heard throughout the apartment along with the heavy sound of your front door closing. 

“in the room!” you called back out from the large bathroom in your en suite. various makeup products lined the dual sink of your shared space, all an essential element in your routine to look your absolute best for girls night.

“i’m sorry i'm so late. you won’t believe how bad this goddamn mission went. ijichi’s getting exorcised after this—“ your boyfriend paused mid sentence after walking through your bedroom’s door, standing in the entrance of the bathroom. you turned to look at him once you didn’t hear his voice continue on with his rant. 

piercing blue eyes not occulted by his usual headband laid heavy on you, looking up and down at you with a gaze that you distinctly recognized as hungry. you smiled at the white-haired man brightly, attempting to ignore how he was clearly checking you out with a signature starved smile he reserved only for you. 

“hi, baby! i’m sorry the mission went south, tell me more about it?” you turned back to the mirror, continuing with the finishing touches to your makeup look. your lips pursed slightly in concentration as you blended out any harsh lines of your eyeliner and waterline, the smoky, sultry look you were going for seemed to be successful after hours of diligently following a tiktok tutorial. 

you saw your boyfriend finally push off from the doorframe to step right behind you, his hands coming up to rest on your hips that were adorned by a lacy, black mini dress. it was perfectly tight and short, resting well above mid thigh. 

”y’know what? fuck the whole mission, baby. it went amazing, no need for me to explain. you on the other hand, where’ya going all dolled up like this, hmm?” his breath ghosted your shoulder as he leaned down and into you, lips closing in to place a warm kiss on the curve. his hands began rubbing up and down the fabric of the sides of your dress, leaving a tingling trail that you fought to ignore. it was proving difficult once his lips strayed from your shoulder and journeyed into the slope of your neck. 

“toru, remember i told you i was going out with the girls tonight? it’s the second weekend of the month, you know we always go out,” your voice wavered near the end of your sentence as your man’s kisses went from barely innocent to wet, open mouthed kisses. you were trying your hardest to continue applying your lip combo, finishing the look with a shiny gloss. you absolutely loved when he got like this. he’d become so attention starved and lacked the ability to focus on anything but you. although you would usually indulge satoru’s (and your own) needs, you were serious about being considerate of shoko and utahime’s time. 

you gasped at the feeling of satoru’s rock hard erection pressing into the back of your thigh, the heat and print evident through the fabric of his pants, “of course, pretty girl, how could i forget? you always get ready and leave me alone with nothing but this to deal with,” he murmured, hips twitching slightly to emphasize exactly what he was referring to. 

“don’t be dramatic, toru. you know i always take care of you when i get home,” you responded in a sweet voice, bringing your hand up and behind you to cup his pale cheek, looking at him with what you though was a loving look, until you heard and felt your boyfriend’s deep groan vibrate into your neck, along with his hands that had now traveled to the front of your dress, toying with the hem on your thighs. 

”don’t look at me like that, angel. those fuckin’ eyes of yours are driving me crazy,” he seemed to finally snap and grab your hips tightly, turning you around quickly to face him. you didn’t have time to react before he was letting go to pluck the open gloss and applicator wand from your fingers, nice enough to properly close and seal the product before his hands came back up to cup your jaw. “so, so, beautiful, baby,” he whispered before leaning in to press a wet kiss on your glossy lips. his hands angled your face up to his, forcing you to reciprocate his love. not that you’d ever reject his kisses.

“mmph, toru—“ you tried to get the words out, but his lips pressed even harder against your own, words gasped out between smooches, “they’ll be—here—mm—a-any min—minute.”

your hands came up to close around his own that rested on your face, hoping the touch would snap him out of his hungry state. it seemed to only rile him up, however, as his thigh moved to slip between your own plush thighs, dress riding up to forcefully make room for your now slightly spread legs. you let out a small squeak as his muscular thigh pressed perfectly against your throbbing clit, covered by lacy, black fabric. although it felt like one of your toughest missions to this date, you knew if you didn’t get the situation under control, you either wouldn’t make it out tonight or you were about to traumatize your friends. 

you brought your fingers to run through white strands for a moment before you tugged at them, the action causing satoru to pull away from you only enough for you to speak, “c’mon, baby. i have to fix my lips now. can you grab my new heels, pretty please?” 

your hand moved to wipe your nude lipstick that had transferred onto his lips, his mouth puckering to peck your thumb as you did so. he finally and reluctantly stepped back once you finished, not before swatting your ass when you turned back to the mirror to re-apply your lip gloss. he snickered at your yelp, “toru!” before walking out and into your walk-in closet to grab the shoes he knew you were referring to. sleek, tall loboutins that he had bought you a random afternoon this week as a surprise. 

you finally exited the bathroom to see him waiting already for you near the bed, his hand patting an empty space for you to take a seat. you followed his directions, sitting on the luxurious comforter. he then kneeled before you with the heels in his hands, bringing your right foot up to slide the heel on. once he was done with the first, he placed a sweet peck to your ankle, doing the exact same process with the other. before he could go any further with his affection, you heard a knock at the door, signaling your friends’ arrival. 

“just a minute!” you called out, standing to your now increased height, moving around to spritz your favorite perfume and grab your purse. satoru simply sat on the bed with a pout and watched you intently. his erection hadn’t gone down for a single moment since he first laid eyes on you.

”thank you, baby. i’ll be back later, okay?” you walked back up to him and pecked his cheek innocently, pulling back giving him a sultry smile you knew he’d love, “wait up for me,” you winked and ran out of the room, leaving behind your boyfriend who let out a loud groan at your sexy expression. 

the next couple hours were about to feel like an eternity.

“t-toru, right th-ere!” you moaned out loudly and shamelessly, your senses completely overwhelmed by your sorcerer boyfriend. he had you kneeling with your legs spread as wide as possible on the couch cushions, bent over the arm. your feet were up, heels locked behind his thighs to keep him pressed inside you as much as deeply as possible. his clothed chest was pressed to your back, dress pulled over your plump ass just enough for him to slip inside and be able to watch it bounce back against him. his arms were resting on either side of yours that were gripping the leather arm of the couch. your head was thrown back against his shoulder, allowing him to closely listen to any and all noises you’d let out.

“so perfect, baby. fuck, been waiting hours to feel this tight cunt around my cock. felt like you were gone forever. did you make me wait longer on purpose, angel? wanted to see just how needy i could get?” his deep, sultry voice in your ear had you keening, unable to do anything but take his sharp, hard thrusts into you. the noises you were both making were absolutely obscene, wet squelches echoing throughout the dark living room along with a combination of grunts and high pitched moans. 

satoru hadn’t even waited for you to make it to the bedroom once you made it back from dinner and drinks, instantly pouncing on you and taking you right in the first room of your shared apartment. 

“c’mon, baby, answer me. did you—“ he pulled his hips back enough for his thick length to almost slip completely out of your dripping hole, teasingly leaving in his weeping tip, “do it—“ he slammed back in roughly, making you let out a scream, eyes rolling back, “on purpose?” he resumed his hard, fast thrusts. 

“n-no! i—fuck! wanted to come b-back to you, toru! miss—missed you so much!” you wailed, turning your head to the side to look at him. your jaw was slackened, unable to keep in any noises. not that you’d want to—you knew how much satoru loved when you were loud, confirming just how much you loved him and his cock. 

“you’re such a dream, angel. missed you too, never want to let you out of my sight,” he responded, thrusts becoming somehow faster as he leaned in to kiss you sloppily, finally free to ruin your lipstick without a care in the world. your lips would connect for a moment before you were moaning into each other’s mouths, though you never separated far. it was like you were each other’s oxygen, needing to breathe each other in to survive

“m’so close, toru!” your eyebrows were furrowed as you pulled back enough to speak, a strand of saliva connecting your lips to his own, “more! n-need more, please!” you sobbed, unsure of what more you were exactly asking for. however, having the strongest as your lover meant he somehow knew exactly the push you needed to send you over the edge. his arm moved to wrap around your neck, essentially placing you in a headlock. he leaned back and pulled you with him, bringing you both into a praying position. your hands came up to dig your nails into his bicep and forearm, high pitched moans leaving your parted lips when his other arm came around to rub circles on your puffy, aching clit. you felt as if you were floating, euphoria completely transcending you into an abyss you never wanted to leave. 

satoru let out a deep groan at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, signaling your impending orgasm. “s-so tight, baby. cum for me, angel. i know you want to let go. you know i’d never deny you, so do it, cum all over this cock,” he breathed out against the side of your face, placing sloppy kisses on your jaw and cheek. the words alone sent you hurdling over the edge, slack jawed and eyes crossing in pleasure as you felt your peak overtake you, gushing out clear liquid that ran down his balls that were slapping against your ass, dripping all the way down your thighs and essentially ruining the sofa.

you let out a scream of pleasure, satoru’s name barely understood through your continuous wails. he kept fucking you through your orgasm, barely able to hold back his own once he felt just how much liquid you were pouring at his thrusts. you were barely blinking back to life when you suddenly found yourself on your back, feeling the soft comforter underneath you. you knew you were now in your bedroom. your dress was completely gone, leaving your naked body to arch off the bed as you were sent into a state of overstimulation. 

“t-toru? did you just t-teleport?” you stuttered out, hands coming up to now run over his bare abdomen, trailing up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to press against your front.

”needed to watch your pretty face cum with me, angel. you can give me one more, right?” he angled his hips downward to ensure his pelvis was grinding his happy trail against your clit, causing you to flinch hard.

”dunno if i can cum again, toru!” you panted out. his hand shot down to grab the back of your knee, bringing it up to open you up wider to his cock’s abuse. you whined at the combination of the stretch plus the way his hair was rubbing deliciously against your swollen nub. 

“i know you can, pretty girl. tell me what you need and i’ll do it. fuck, i’d do anything you asked me to. you’re my life,” his thrusts grew sloppier as he neared his own peak. 

“closer, toru!” you moaned, feeling the tightening of your lower stomach coil rapidly at his sweet words. 

he grabbed your ankle to bring it over his shoulder, then wrapped his arms around your back and middle to press your entire body against him, tits pressed firmly to his hard chest, your clit rubbing all over his lower abdomen. the feeling of his hot body against yours, arms wrapped securely around you and lifting your upper body off the bed while his cockhead jabbed against your g-spot was enough to have you gripping his hair to press his mouth against yours, slanting your lips over his to press a filthy kiss on his own. 

not even a moment later, you were squirting clear fluid all over his pelvis, abs, the bed, everywhere. the headboard was slamming against the wall, but it was no comparison to your high pitched scream of his name plus satoru’s loud moans as he felt your walls squeeze him impossibly tight, milking his cock entirely. the pornographic noises of your pussy squelching around him and the wet slaps of skin against skin rang throughout the room. the moment he felt the first bit of liquid hit his abdomen, he was cumming hard, unable to do anything but let his milky seed drip out of your hole and continue fucking you both through your highs. your face was a sight to behold; sultry eyes that he loved so much were scrunched shut, head thrown back with your hair splayed perfectly around you, mouth open in a perfect ‘o,’ he was hypnotized. he was unsure how long you were both letting ecstasy wash over you, but it felt like a lifetime. 

he finally slowed his pace before stopping completely, hearing your whimpers of overstimulation. your eyes were locked on his, eyebrows still slightly pinched as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. your skin was glistening with sweat, chest heaving from exertion just as his did the same. satoru felt his cock twitch at the sight, unable to fathom just how perfectly angelic you were. hence, your nickname.

he allowed your leg to slip off his shoulder, the appendage shaking as he brought it down to rest. you both let out breathy laughs at the sight, looking at each other with pure devotion and adoration. you felt your chest tighten with post-coital bliss, your fingers in gojo’s hair bringing his face closer to your own, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. he instantly reciprocated, both of you in a bubble of love.

which is why, when he suddenly felt your shaky legs come up to press against his sides, suddenly flipping you both over so that you were now on top of him, he was caught off guard. he understood the moment he sensed cursed energy flow through the room that you were restoring your strength to keep going. he looked up to see your angel face turned devilishly hungry, hands gripping his own to press them next to his head and into the mattress. his cock instantly hardened at the sight. 

“now, i told you i’d take care of you once i got home, didn’t i?”

[pillsatoru]

AITA for fucking my twins ex ? nerdjo x reader ac. narutoss.ramen

Toru (20) has been eyeing you ever since his brother, Satoru (20), introduced you to him. How could a pretty girl such as yourself end up with a good for nothing boy? Now, don’t get Toru wrong, he loves his brother (most of the time) but, Satoru has never taken his future seriously. He preferred to party all night instead of studying for an important test. Because he claimed “it isn’t that deep. Just live your life.”

Unlike you.

Toru has seen the way you tire yourself out in the library. You had to force your eyes to stay open, reading multiple books stacked on your desk and worksheets spread out with neat notes you had taken in class. In a way, Toru was like you.

You took college seriously, and you actually cared for your education.

So he asks himself again, what did you see in Satoru? Well yeah, he had the looks and all. But that’s about it.

“Oh, we broke up.” Satoru casually said as he tied together the two elastic bands attached to the trash bag. Toru’s eyes widened. “W-what? Why? You guys looked so well together!” That was obviously a lie, but there was no way he’d show his excitement at the sudden breakup.

“We just didn’t match each other that well. Thought it’d be like, opposites attract or some shit, but nah.” Satoru scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. He was clearly bothered with the still sensitive topic. Regardless of the mutual agreement to break up, Satoru genuinely liked you. You were both pretty and smart and best of all, you saw past the ‘party animal’ and understood him.

Until you eventually decided it was best to break things off. “So..” Toru dragged out the ‘o’, tapping his hands on the kitchen table. “What happened?”

“She thought I was holding her back, which I probably was. And I want what’s best for her..” He quietly said before leaving to throw out the trash. Toru sat in silence after the door clicked behind his twin. Sure he felt horrible, but fuck, he wanted you too.

Toru never told his brother that he’s been eyeing you since the start of the semester, nor the way he’s been fantasizing about you.

He loved your eyes, wanting to be the one to make them roll behind as he slammed his pulsing cock into you. Or the way he’d daydream in class about ripping off your top to suck on your tits. The thought alone made his jeans begin to feel tight.

Toru’s back straightened when his brother walked back in. “I’m gonna go out, mind doing the dishes tonight?” Satoru asked, already going over to his room to grab his jacket. “Oh, sure. You going to a party?”

“Where else? Need to get my mind off things.”

Perfect. Toru had already planned to spend his whole afternoon jerking off to your posts on instagram. He prayed you weren’t the type to completely delete everything after a breakup.

“See ya.” Satoru threw a peace sign as a goodbye.

Toru nodded, waiting for a bit before eventually heading to his room now. His cock was already straining against his pants the second he pulled out his phone. His thumbs quickly moved to open up your insta account. “Oh thank God.” He sighed in relief when he saw that your pretty pictures were in fact, still there.

His fly unzipped, pants pulled down to his ankles. His dick was fully emerged, the soft pink tip glistening with pre-cum. “Fuck..” He said through his teeth after teasing himself with his thumb all while letting your story highlights play. “You’re so gorgeous. He never deserved ya.”

His personal favorite picture showed up, making his hand quicken its pace on the base. The sensitive vein on the side bulged out, drawing out more moans from Toru. He threw himself onto his back, squeezing himself.

You looked like a goddess. Your hair was neatly done, makeup on point, and the slight arch of your body? It had Toru shooting blanks. He’s lost times as to how much he’s jerked off to this specific picture. He had practically mastered the art of male masturbation. His hips thrusted into his own hand, feeling himself grow closer.

“So close.. so fucking close!” With one final stroke, his warm seed shot out. Some landed in his hand while the rest managed to get onto his shirt.

A pleasured sigh fell from his lips, knowing he had to go just one more time in order to feel satisfied. Right as he was about to position himself into humping his pillow, the doorbell rang.

Toru froze.

Had Satoru forgotten something? No, he would have used the keys instead. So then who was at the door? He quickly scrambled, wiping his cum on an already used tissue. He reached for his pants, quickly putting them on.

“Coming!” He yelled out when the bell rang once again. He gave himself a look over in his mirror, making sure it wasn’t obvious of his previous activities. That’s when he noticed the cum in his shirt. “Fuck it.” He quickly discarded of it, rushing to get the door.

The person would unfortunately have to deal with seeing his lanky torso. His hand twisted the doorknob, opening up to reveal.. you?

You felt your cheeks heat up when your eyes met his. He didn’t have his glasses on, and well, he didn’t have his shirt on either.

His breath stuttered.

“Hi.. um,” It wasn’t your first time interacting with Toru, so why was it suddenly so hard? Surely it was because he’s your ex’s brother. “Is Satoru home?”

Toru couldn’t trust himself in speaking so he shook his head instead. He could barely make sight of your figure, but he’s memorized your face. “He’s at a party..”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that because it clearly hurt you in a way. “Oh.” You could feel your heart sink. You had recently broke up and he’s already moving on? “Okay.. I just came to drop a few things off.”

Toru’s throat throbbed, scooting to the side to let you in. “Come in, please.”

You mumbled a small thank you, offering one of your sweet but forced smiles. In your hands was a box full of clothes left behind. Toru let his eyes travel down to the seat of your hips. His boner hasn’t come down yet, matter of fact, he could swear it got bigger.

“How are you doing?” He managed to get out.

You placed the box down on the side table, contemplating if you really wanted to vent to Toru out of all people right now. Not with the way you could barely even look at him. How could he look so hot without muscles? That was your type, no?

“Not that great to be honest.. but it was coming anyways.” You shrugged. “Has he said anything..?” Part of you hoped Satoru has.

But Toru knew what you wanted to hear, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. “Just that you broke up. That’s all.”

“Of course. I don’t know what I expected.” Your body was now turned to him. “Mind telling him that I came to drop things off for me? I tried texting him, but I couldn’t bring myself to.”

“Yeah, yeah for sure.”

Don’t go.

“Okay, thank you.”

Where are you going?

Before you could take a step to the exit, a faint familiar voice caught your attention. Toru felt his heart drop to his ass. He never clicked out of your highlights, nor turn off his phone.

Your eyes widened, head snapping over to his bedroom.

Toru’s heart was racing so hard he could hear it. “That’s not..” He tried to make up an excuse, but there was no denying it. “Shit..” He hid his face in his hands, totally embarrassed.

“What..” You couldn’t even form a sentence. Why had Toru been looking through your highlights? “Toru?” The lingering smell of release lingered on his hand, becoming more prominent when you got closer to him.

And it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

So here comes the first question, is Toru the asshole for dragging his twins ex into his bed?

He didn’t care if you were frustrated with the breakup, fuck, he couldn’t care less if you were just using him to release that frustration! “Ngh!” He moaned into your mouth. Toru wasn’t the best kisser, but it somehow made it better. The kiss was sloppy, wet, and had your teeth clashing against one another’s.

“Is this okay?” His hands traveled up your shirt. “Yeah!” You tugged at his undercut, bringing him in for another kiss.

He gently squeezed at your breasts. You weren’t wearing a bra, and to that he thanked every God out there. He wasn’t swallowing every sweet sound that came out of you. “Keep whining like that..” He begged.

His fingers roughly twisted around your nipples, pinching them until your back arched onto his. His hips gave experimental humps, carefully checking if you were okay with it.

Seeing as you were, the bumps became full thrusts, rubbing his clothed cock on your clothed cunt.

“Toru!”

His eyes adverted down to see the wet patch on his pants. “Did you just..?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t going to deny the effect you had on him. “Can you clean me up?” Toru pulled away, pushing down his pants along with his ruined briefs. His cock was way too heavy to fully stand up. The tip was still oozing with cum that he wiped off to put on your lips.

“Looks like your lipgloss.” Toru grinned.

Is Toru the asshole for fucking his twins ex’s mouth?

“God, angel..” Toru gently cupped your cheeks as you slowly slid his cock in. “That’s it. Take all of it.” His breath hitched once his head grazed the back of your mouth. You looked so pretty, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him off.

A hand reached behind to fist in your hair, using it as leverage to practically fuck your mouth. But the sudden action only resulted in you accidentally using teeth on him.

He groaned loudly, not expecting that. It hurt like hell but fuck, he secretly wanted you to do it again. His other hand held onto his headboard that banged on the wall time to time. Toru was absolutely in a trance with the way you were kneeling in between his legs.

It was like a wet dream come true.

He grew upset when you closed your eyes, giving you a soft yank at your hair to force you to keep looking at him. “Eyes on me. Good girl.”

You whimpered in apology, looking up at him through your glassy eyes. Your toes were curled to prevent yourself from gagging, but that barely helped with the way he was plummeting into your throat.

You’ve never taken a dick like this before, not even Satoru’s was this big.

“Gonna.. gonna cum.” Toru warned, throwing his head back. Sure enough, warm liquid spilt inside your mouth, forcibly pouring down your throat. Some managed to get out through the corners, dripping onto your chin.

Toru panted, pulling away from you.

“Shh..” Both his thumbs reached up to clean you off. “Thank you pretty, for making me feel so good. Now it’s your turn, okay?”

Is Toru the asshole for fucking his twins ex in a mating press?

Toru has consumed a lot of porn in the past year alone. He’d scroll through twitter, jerk off to videos that featured girls that looked adjacent to you, or simply go on the hub. And he absolutely had a favorite position.

“You ever try this one?” He asked, already lifting your legs until your knees were brought up to your chest.

Your cunt was glistening, shouldn’t be a problem for him to slide right in. “N-no.” You bit your lip, furrowing your eyebrows when he teased your entrance with his tip. Unfortunately, Toru didn’t have any condoms in his room.

If it wasn’t obvious, the boy was a virgin.

“Alright, just tell me if I need to slow down.” Toru leaned down to press a sweet peck on your lips as he slowly entered, inch by inch. The vein that he had scraped at your walls so deliciously, it had your lips drooling. Both of them. “So fucking tight.” He rasped.

Your hands kept themselves on the back of your knees, moaning when he slid out just to slam right back in. “Toru!”

“Shit, did it hurt?” Worry overtook the boys face. “No!” You assured. “Feels good..”

A smile broke out on his lips at your words. “If ya say so.” His hands were on top of yours, bending you in ways you didn’t even know you could. With his lips on yours, cock fucking you relentlessly as his balls smacked against your hole, and moans coming out of both of you, it was really difficult to heart the door opening. It seems like you two had lost track of time.

Oops.

I MADE MORE BS ⊹ ࣪ ˖ there prob won't be a pt. 2 sowwy

ok bai.

[to00fu]

gojo between work

ref from here !

[tays-writing]

texts with boyfriend!nerdjo ♡

testing the waters with smaus again I guess..

masterlist

divider from @strangergraphics // cr for the art: 3vangel1ne_ on X ♡

[victuuriaa]

Ugh I love him

[levitonin]

Anyway spiderjo

[levitonin]

Nerdjo gojo spideyjo whatever

[dickerystuf-art]

Toji working hard🤤

[nightshiftnotes]

❥ comfortable

♡ summary: after two terrible days, all you want is to use your boyfriend as a mattress. unfortunately for you, gojo satoru is very easily distracted.

♡ warnings: 18+ mdni • explicit sexual content • established relationship • oral (f!receiving) • multiple orgasms • piv sex • praise • possessive language • dirty talk • creampie • fluff

♡ author’s note: this was inspired by a post from @silentlunarkiss based on this fanart 😭 i screenshotted it immediately because i knew i wanted to write it, then somehow lost the original post before i could tag them. finally found them again!! ♡

banner by @pixopix

The apartment is quiet when you finally drag yourself through the door, your work bag feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds. Your feet are killing you, your brain is fried, and all you want is to collapse into bed and not move for approximately twelve hours.

You kick off your shoes and shuffle down the hallway, already pulling your hair out of the bun you'd done up that morning, now mostly falling out on its own. The bedroom door is cracked open, and when you push it wider, you find exactly what you were hoping for.

Satoru is sprawled across the bed like a starfish, still wearing his teaching clothes—black pants and a rumpled button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His blindfold is tossed carelessly on the nightstand, and his white hair is an absolute disaster, sticking up in every direction like he's been running his hands through it all day. His eyes are closed, one arm thrown over his face.

He looks as exhausted as you feel.

"Rough day?" you ask, and he groans without moving.

"The first years tried to fight a curse three grades above their level because Yuji said it 'looked easy,'" he mumbles into his arm. "I had to bail them out. Again. Then Megumi and Nobara got into an argument about mission protocol that somehow turned into a full-blown screaming match about who ate whose leftovers from the fridge. I had to separate them like they were toddlers."

Despite your exhaustion, you snort. "Sounds about right."

"And then," he continues, finally moving his arm to peek at you with one brilliant blue eye, "Yaga cornered me about paperwork I was supposed to file last week. Do you know how much I hate paperwork?"

"I'm aware." You're already moving toward the bed, unbuttoning your work pants. "You complain about it literally every time."

"Because it's the worst. I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. I shouldn't have to file incident reports."

"Mm-hmm, very tragic." You shimmy out of your pants and leave them in a heap on the floor—a problem for future you. Your blouse follows, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. "My day was also shit, for the record."

"Yeah?" He's watching you now with lazy interest, too tired to even sit up but still tracking your movements.

"My boss is an idiot, the coffee machine broke, I had to sit through a two-hour meeting that could've been an email, and Janet from accounting passive-aggressively cc'd the entire department on an email about someone stealing her lunch. Which, for the record, I didn't do, but she definitely thinks I did based on the way she was glaring at me."

"Want me to hollow purple Janet from accounting?" he offers, completely serious.

"Tempting, but no." You crawl onto the bed and without ceremony, flop directly on top of him, your full weight pressing him into the mattress. You bury your face in his chest with a long, dramatic groan. "I'm dead. This is me, dead."

"Hi, dead. I'm also dead." His arms come around you automatically, wrapping you up even though you're both too tired to really move. "We're both corpses now. This is our life."

"Our death," you correct, muffled against his shirt.

"Our death," he agrees solemnly.

For a moment, you just lie there, breathing in sync. He smells like his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the training grounds—sweat and grass and something distinctly him. It's comforting in a way you can't quite articulate. This exhausted, collapsed-together moment feels like home.

His hand starts moving on your back, slow and gentle, rubbing up and down your spine. It feels incredible, and you make an embarrassing sound of contentment that you'll deny later.

"You're tense as hell," he murmurs, fingers working at a knot between your shoulder blades.

"You try dealing with Janet's accusatory emails and see how relaxed you are," you mumble, but you're already melting into his touch.

"I'd just block her."

"You can't block coworkers, Satoru."

"You can if you're powerful enough." His hand slides lower, still rubbing your back, and you feel some of the day's tension starting to ease. "This okay?"

"It's perfect. You're my favorite human pillow."

"Just human pillow? Not devastatingly handsome boyfriend who you're lucky to have?"

"That's implied," you say, but you're smiling against his chest.

His other hand joins the first, both of them working at your tired muscles, and you honest-to-god almost start purring. This is exactly what you needed. Just this—him, the quiet apartment, his hands on you, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

But then his hands start to wander.

It's subtle at first. His fingers drift from your back to your sides, tracing the curve of your waist. Then lower, skimming over your hips. And then—

He grabs your ass. Both hands, full handfuls, squeezing appreciatively.

"Really?" you ask, lifting your head to look at him. "We're both dead, remember? Corpses don't grope."

"I'm a very motivated corpse." He squeezes again, shameless, and there's a grin tugging at his lips now. "Can't help it. You're lying on top of me in your underwear. What did you expect?"

"Self-control? Restraint? Basic human decency?"

"Baby, you know me better than that." His hands are still kneading your ass, and despite your sass, you can feel heat starting to pool low in your belly. "Besides, you love it."

"I love that you can't even wait until we've recovered from our respective terrible days before getting handsy?"

"Exactly." He's fully grinning now, that cocky, insufferable grin that makes you want to kiss him and smack him at the same time. "Your ass is the best stress relief. It's science."

"That's not science, you idiot."

"It's my science."

You snort, but you're not moving away. His hands are warm and familiar, and honestly, after the day you've had, this isn't the worst thing in the world. You let your head drop back to his chest, eyes drifting closed.

"Comfortable?" he asks, voice softer now.

"Mmm," you hum in agreement. "Don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it."

For a while, it's just quiet. His hands keep moving—sometimes squeezing, sometimes just resting there, thumbs drawing lazy circles. You can hear his heartbeat under your ear, steady and strong. The tension in your shoulders is almost completely gone now, replaced by a different kind of warmth, something slower and heavier.

You're half-asleep when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness pressing against your hip.

"Satoru," you mumble, not even opening your eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Are you seriously getting hard right now?"

There's a pause. Then he says, "...Maybe."

You lift your head to look at him, one eyebrow raised. He has the decency to look slightly sheepish, but there's heat in his eyes now, that familiar hunger that never really goes away when it comes to you.

"We were having a nice moment."

"We still are."

"You've got a boner."

"I do…That doesn't cancel the nice moment."

You stare at him for another second before letting out a laugh.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"I come home exhausted, use you as a human mattress for ten minutes, and somehow I'm the problem?"

"You are absolutely the problem."

"I literally haven't done anything."

"You climbed on top of me, got all comfy, made that little happy humming noise, and then fell asleep on my chest."

"I hummed?"

"You hummed."

"I don't hum."

"You do when you're really comfortable."

You narrow your eyes. "I've never noticed that."

"I have."

You glare at him.

"…Baby." He exhales dramatically, like he's carrying the weight of the world. "You're makin' me so hard."

You snort. "You're unbelievable."

"I'm trying to be respectful."

"Are you?"

Silence.

"…No." He grins without an ounce of shame. "Not really."

Despite yourself, you laugh again, dropping your forehead back against his shoulder.

"You're ridiculous."

"I know."

His arms tighten around you just a little. "But you look so comfortable."

His voice is quieter now. "So happy."

You burrow your face further into his shoulder.

"…I like when you're like this."

You feel yourself smile before you can stop it. "You're such a sap."

"Only for you."

There's a comfortable silence. Then his hands drift just a little bit lower again.

"…Okay," you mumble. "Now you're definitely not being respectful."

"No." He gives your ass another shameless squeeze. "I'm definitely not."

Before you can respond, he's sitting up, keeping you in his lap, and capturing your mouth in a kiss that's hungry and demanding. You can taste his desperation, feel it in the way his hands grip you like he's afraid you're going to disappear.

When he pulls back, his lips are already swollen, his eyes are dark with want. "I need to taste you," he says, and it's not a request. "Get up here."

"Up where—"

But he's already moving, sliding down the bed and pulling you with him. "On my face. Come on."

"Satoru—"

"Please." And there it is, that needy edge that makes your stomach flip. "I've been thinking about this all day. About you sitting on my face, riding my tongue until you come. Please, baby. I need it."

How are you supposed to say no to that?

"You're ridiculous," you say, but you're already moving, letting him position you. He's lying flat on his back now, looking up at you with such raw want that it makes you shiver.

"Not ridiculous. Desperate." His hands come up to grip your thighs, pulling you forward. "Now stop stalling and sit on my face."

"Bossy," you mutter, but you're lowering yourself down, and then—

"Oh fuck," you gasp as his tongue makes contact, sliding through your folds in one long, deliberate stroke.

He groans under you, the vibration going straight to your core, and his hands tighten on your thighs. "That's it," he mumbles against you. "Right there. Don't move."

But you're already moving, you can't help it, grinding down against his mouth as he licks and sucks and devours you like a man starving. His grip on your thighs is almost bruising, holding you exactly where he wants you, and when you try to lift up, worried about suffocating him, about being too much—he just pulls you back down harder.

"Satoru—"

"Stay," he demands, voice muffled. He pulls his face back to look up at you. "Fuck my face. Come on, baby, I can take it. Give it to me." Then he lowers his mouth to you again.

It's obscene, the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the way he's completely lost in it. His tongue circles your clit, then dips inside you, then back to your clit, and you're already shaking, already so close.

"That's it," he encourages, and you can hear the smugness in his voice even now. "You're dripping, baby. such a mess on my face."

"Shut—up," you gasp, but there's no heat in it because he's right—you can feel how wet you are, can feel it on his chin, his lips, and it should be embarrassing but it's just hot.

"Make me," he challenges, and then he's sucking your clit into his mouth, hard, and you cry out.

Your hands fly to the headboard, gripping the edge to steady yourself as the pleasure intensifies. You start to really move now, riding his face with purpose, and he moans underneath you like this is exactly what he wanted all along.

"Fuck, yes," he groans against you, the vibration making you gasp. "Just like that. Use me, baby. Take what you need."

His hands guide your hips, encouraging the rhythm, and his tongue is relentless—circling, flicking, pressing flat against you in a way that makes your thighs shake. You can feel yourself getting closer, that coil of heat tightening in your belly.

"Satoru, I'm—fuck—"

"Do it," he demands, voice rough. "Come on my face.”

His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, and that's all it takes. Your orgasm crashes through you in waves, pleasure rolling through your entire body. You're grinding down against his mouth, riding it out, and he's groaning underneath you like this is the best thing that's ever happened to him.

When you finally come down, shaking and oversensitive, you try to move off him, but his hands tighten on your thighs.

"Not yet," he mumbles, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, your hip bones, anywhere he can reach. "Just—give me a second. You taste so fucking good."

"You're gonna kill me," you pant, but you're smiling.

But he's already diving back in, and you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again. Your whole body jolts at the sensitivity, but he doesn't let up—he's relentless, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he works you over. The pleasure is almost too much, bordering on overwhelming, and you're already moaning his name.

"Satoru—fuck—it's too much—"

"I know, baby," he groans against you, the vibration sending another wave through you. "But you can take it."

He's eating you out like he's starving, like he can't get enough, and your whole body is shaking. Your hands grip the headboard tighter, your hips moving against his mouth almost involuntarily. The pleasure is building again, impossibly fast, and you're gasping and moaning as he works you toward another orgasm.

"Oh god—Satoru—I'm gonna—"

"That's it," he encourages, his tongue flicking faster. 

Your second orgasm hits you like a wave, even more intense than the first, and you're crying out as pleasure crashes through you. Your thighs are shaking so hard you can barely hold yourself up, and he's groaning underneath you, clearly getting off on how much he's affecting you.

When you finally collapse, completely spent and oversensitive, he finally releases you, and you fall onto the bed next to him, breathing hard and trembling.

"And I'm dramatic?" He's grinning like he just won the lottery, his face wet, his hair a complete disaster. "That was—fuck. I love you, baby."

"You're insane," you say, but you're pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

"About you? Absolutely." His hands are already roaming again, cupping your face, then sliding down your sides. "But I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh really?"

"Really." He's kissing you again, slower this time, deeper. When he pulls back, there's something vulnerable in his expression beneath all the confidence. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Then show me," you challenge, and his eyes darken.

"Oh, baby."

He's fumbling with his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers, and his cock springs free—flushed and hard and already leaking. You reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length, and he hisses.

"Fuck, baby—"

"What?" You stroke him slowly, base to tip, and he's already trembling.

"Your hands—shit—they're so much smaller than mine. Look so good wrapped around my cock."

"Yeah?" you tease, giving him another slow stroke.

"Yeah." His voice is strained. 

He gently removes your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm, and then he's pulling you against him. His arms wrap around you, one hand sliding up your back, the other gripping your hip possessively. You can feel him, hard and hot against your thigh, and he's just... holding you there.

"Satoru—"

"Give me a second," he murmurs, his voice already rough. His breathing is uneven against your neck, and you can feel the tension in his body—the way he's trying to maintain control. "Just—fuck—you feel so good.”

His hips shift slightly, and you feel the length of him drag against you—not entering, just the pressure of him sliding through your wetness. The friction makes you gasp, and he groans.

"There it is," he breathes. "That sound. The little gasp you make when I—" He does it again, a slow roll of his hips, grinding against you. "When I touch you just right."

"Satoru, please—"

"Please what?" His hand slides down to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against him. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"You know what I want."

"I do." Another slow grind, and you can feel how wet you are, how easily he slides against you. "But I wanna hear you say it. Love the way your voice gets all breathy when you're desperate for me."

"You're killing me—"

"Good." He's kissing your neck now, teeth grazing your pulse point. "You've been killing me all day. All week. Every time you look at me with those eyes, every time you smile at me like I'm the only person in the world—fuck, baby, you have no idea."

His voice is shaking now, and you realize he's not teasing anymore—he's barely holding on. The head of his cock catches at your entrance, and you both freeze.

"I can't—" His forehead drops to your shoulder. "I can't think straight around you. Can't control myself. You just—you exist, and I'm gone."

"Then stop trying to control it," you whisper, and you feel him shudder.

"Fuck." He shifts, lining himself up properly, and then he's pushing in—slowly, so slowly. The stretch is intense, pleasure edged with the sweetest hint of pressure as he fills you inch by inch. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight. So perfect."

"Satoru—"

"I know. I've got you." He's only halfway in, taking his time, letting you adjust. His forehead is still pressed to your shoulder, and you can feel how much restraint this is taking him—the way his muscles are tense, the way his breath comes in short gasps. "You're taking me so well. You always take me so well."

Finally, finally, he's fully seated inside you, and you both just breathe for a moment, adjusting to the feeling of being completely connected.

"Okay?" he asks, lifting his head to look at you.

"Yes baby," you manage. "You can move.”

"Thank fuck." He pulls out slowly, almost all the way, and then thrusts back in. The drag of his cock against your walls makes you gasp, and he groans. "That sound. Fuck, I love that sound."

He sets a steady rhythm, deep and deliberate, each thrust making you feel impossibly full. His hands are everywhere—cupping your face, tangling in your hair, gripping your hips—like he can't decide where he wants to touch you most.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, watching your face. "All flushed and breathless. The way your eyes get all hazy when I'm inside you—fuck, it drives me crazy."

"Satoru—"

"I love you so much." His voice is rough with emotion now, not just desire. "Love everything about you. The way you feel, the way you look at me, the way you let me have you like this—"

"I love you too," you gasp, and his hips stutter.

His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and when he opens them again, there's something raw there.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

"Fuck." His pace falters, becomes less controlled. "You can't—you can't just say it like that when I'm inside you. You're gonna—shit—"

"You feel so good," you tell him, cupping his face. "So perfect. You always make me feel so good."

His breath catches, and suddenly he's kissing you desperately, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, less measured.

"You're everything," he gasps against your mouth. "Everything to me. The way you trust me, the way you look at me like I'm—fuck, baby, I can't—"

"You are," you insist, and his composure cracks completely.

"Fuck—" He's moving faster now, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "Love how you fit around me. Like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other."

"We were," you gasp, and his eyes flash with something fierce and possessive.

"Damn right we were." He shifts slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly every thrust is devastating. "There it is. That's the spot, isn't it?"

"Yes—fuck—right there—"

"I know, baby. I know." His voice is breaking now, emotion and desire tangled together. "Gonna make you come again. Wanna watch your face when you—fuck—when you come because of me."

The pleasure is building so quickly you can barely breathe. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, his back, trying to anchor yourself as he drives into you again and again.

"That's it," he encourages, watching your face like he's memorizing it. "I can feel you getting tighter. You're close, aren't you? So fucking close."

"Don't stop—"

"Never." One of his hands slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it. Let me see you."

The combination of his cock hitting that perfect spot and his thumb on your clit is too much. Your orgasm hits you hard, pleasure crashing through you in waves that make your whole body tense and shake. You're clenching around him, and he groans at the sensation.

"Fuck, yes," he breathes, still moving, fucking you through it. "That's it. That's my girl. You're so good. So beautiful. Fuck, I love you so much."

When you finally start to come down, gasping and trembling, you expect him to follow you over the edge. But instead, he slows his movements, pressing soft kisses to your face.

"Satoru—"

"Not done with you yet," he murmurs against your lips.

Before you can respond, he's pulling out and lifting your legs, draping them over his shoulders. The new position opens you up completely, and when he pushes back in, he's somehow even deeper than before.

"Oh fuck—" you gasp, and he groans.

"There we go." He starts moving again, and this angle is devastating. Every thrust feels impossibly deep, hitting places that make your toes curl. "How's that, baby? That good?"

"Yes—fuck—Satoru—"

"I love you so much," he says, his voice rough. "You know that? I'm never letting you go. You're mine. Always gonna be mine."

"Yours," you agree breathlessly, and something in his expression goes even more intense.

"That's right." His thrusts are harder now, more purposeful. "Gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna love you for the rest of my life."

His hand moves to your stomach, pressing down, and suddenly his eyes go wide. He can feel himself inside you, the bulge of his cock with each thrust, and something feral takes over his expression.

"Holy shit," he breathes, completely mesmerized. His hand traces the outline, feeling himself move in and out of you, and he starts fucking you even harder, unable to look away. "Look at that. Look at you taking me so deep."

You're already building toward another orgasm, the intensity of this angle and his words and the way he's looking at you like you're the most incredible thing he's ever seen—it's all too much.

He's transfixed, watching his cock disappear inside you again and again, feeling the movement under his palm. His breathing is ragged, his movements becoming more frantic.

"Can you feel that, baby?" he asks breathlessly, his voice completely wrecked. "Fuck—I'm so fucking deep—you feel that?"

You look up at him with half-shut glazed eyes, your mouth parted open, completely fucked out. "Yes—fuck—yes, Satoru, I feel it—"

He groans at the sight of you—at how thoroughly wrecked you look, at the way you're falling apart beneath him. "You're so hot. So fucking hot. The way you look right now—fuck—I'm obsessed with you."

He's fucking you harder now, more urgently, his hand still on your stomach feeling himself move inside you with each thrust. The visual seems to drive him wild, and his movements become almost desperate.

"Come for me again," he demands, his other hand finding your oversensitive clit. "I know you can. I know you've got one more in you. Come on, baby. Give it to me."

"Satoru—I can't—it's too much—"

"You can." His thumb presses harder, circling your clit. "You can, baby. I need you to.”

The pleasure is building impossibly fast, almost painful in its intensity. You're so sensitive from your first two orgasms that every thrust, every touch feels magnified.

"That's it," he encourages, watching your face. "I can see it. You're right there. Just let go, baby.”

His voice is breaking, his control completely shattered, and then something raw escapes from him. 

"I want you—" His hips snap forward harder. "Fuck—want all of you.”

His composure finally snaps.

"They've been on my ass my whole life about the bloodline. About heirs. About duty." Another hard thrust, his voice is cracking. "And I never—fuck—never wanted it."

He's breathing hard, almost gasping between words.

"Not until you."

His forehead drops closer to yours, his movements becoming more frantic.

"Only you. Want to marry you—want to wake up to you every day—want to call you my wife and—ah—know you're mine—"

Your orgasm crashes through you even harder, triggered by his words, by the desperation in his voice, by the sight of him completely undone above you. You're clenching around him so tight he gasps, your whole body shaking with the intensity.

"Fuck, yes—" He's just… staring at you, still moving, still feeling himself inside you. "So beautiful—The way your face—the way you sound—fuck—"

The sight of you completely wrecked under him, the feeling of you clenching around him, the way you gasp his name—it pushes him over the edge.

"Ah—fuck—fuck—fuuckk—" He buries himself as deep as he can go and comes hard, spilling into you in hot pulses. His whole body shudders with the intensity of it, and you can feel him throbbing inside you, can feel the warmth spreading.

He collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you but clearly boneless. For a while, you just breathe together, sweaty and satisfied.

"Holy shit," you mumble.

"Yeah." He's pressing kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He can’t seem to stop touching you, his hands running over your skin like he needs the contact. "You're amazing. Incredible. Best girlfriend in the entire world."

"Best girlfriend, or best pussy?" you tease, and he pulls back to look at you with mock offense.

"Both. Definitely both." He's grinning now, that soft, genuine smile that he only gives you. "But mostly you. I love you. Like, so much. An embarrassing amount."

"I love you too, you needy disaster."

"Your needy disaster," he corrects, and he's still touching you, hands running over your skin like he can't bear to stop. "Mine now. No takebacks."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you say softly, and you mean it.

He pulls you closer, tucking you against his chest, and you can hear his heartbeat starting to slow. The exhaustion from earlier is creeping back in, but it's different now—satisfied, content, the good kind of tired.

"We should probably shower," you murmur, but you're already half-asleep.

"Later," he mumbles into your hair. "Right now I just wanna hold you."

"Clingy."

"Yep." He doesn't even sound ashamed. "You're stuck with me. Forever. Hope you're ready for that."

"I think I can manage," you say, smiling against his chest.

And as you drift off in his arms, you think that yeah… you can definitely manage. This ridiculous, needy, perfect man is yours, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[baniiv]

You’re bouncing on his cock, hips slamming down hard enough that the wet slap of skin on skin echoes through the bedroom, when Satoru lets out a muffled sound.

“Mmmfgh-!”

His head is thrown back against the pillow, snowy hair sticking to his damp forehead, eyes rolled halfway up in pure bliss. Your worn black panties are stuffed between his lips, the crotch pressed right against his tongue so your scent and taste flood his senses with every desperate inhale. He’s lost every ounce of composure, he's a whimpering, trembling mess beneath you.

It had started barely twenty minutes ago in the laundry room.

You’d walked in absentmindedly, only to freeze at the sight of Satoru hunched over the hamper, face buried in the same pair of your dirty panties he’s gagging on now. His blindfold was pushed up, cheeks tinted prettily, cock rock-hard and twitching visibly in his sweatpants as he inhaled you like he’d die without it. He’d startled when he saw you, pulling the fabric away with a quick, surprised blink of those striking eyes.

“Well… fuck,” he’d said, a low chuckle slipping out even as his cheeks stayed faintly warm.

“Didn’t expect you to be back so soon...”

You’d felt your own face burn, surprised and a little embarrassed by the scene before you. Instead of scolding him, you’d stepped closer, plucked the panties from his fingers and dragged him to your shared bedroom.

Now he’s paying for it in the best way. You brace both hands on his broad chest, nails digging into pale skin and ride him harder, lifting until just the fat head of his cock stretches your pussy, then slamming back down, again and again.

His muffled moans vibrate against the fabric in his mouth, drool slipping from the corner of his lips. His hands clutch the headboard above him exactly like you ordered, knuckles white, veins standing out on his forearms as he fights the urge to grab your hips and fuck up into you.

“Such a needy boy, sniffing my dirty panties like a pervert.”

He whines loudly around the gag, hips jerking helplessly beneath you. His cock throbs violently inside your clenching heat. You don’t let up, grinding in tight, nasty circles that rub your clit perfectly against his base while your walls squeeze him tightly.

His whole body suddenly goes rigid. A desperate cry tears from his throat, muffled by your panties, as he starts to squirt, hot clear fluid floods deep into your pussy. It’s filthy, warm and slippery, leaking out around his shaft with every frantic twitch of his hips. He shakes hard through every spurt, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes, moaning as he’s completely lost in the pleasure.

You keep grinding on his cock, hips rolling desperately as the warm, messy load he squirted inside you pushes you right over the edge. Your pussy clenches hard around him, thighs shaking as you cum with a soft moan, slick gushing out to mix with his own fluids and dripping down his balls on the sheets.

Panting, you slow down and gently pull the soaked panties from his mouth. He gasps for air, chest heaving, lips swollen and shiny. You brush his white hair from his forehead, still seated on his cock.

“You knew I was coming,” you murmur, watching his face. “You let me catch you on purpose.”

Satoru meets your gaze, still flushed and breathing hard. A little smirk tugs at the corner of his swollen lips.

“Yeah… I knew,” he admits, voice rough and smug.

“Wanted you to walk in on me like that. Wanted you to take over and fuck me stupid.” He lets out a breathless chuckle.

Smiling, you lean down and kiss him.

“You're so dirty...” you whisper. He shivers under you, that smirk still on his lips as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Only for you."

[poutyharu]

❝ 𝓘 𝓚NOW, 𝓑ABY ❞

⌗ 𝓼atoru gojo coos you over the edge ! (˶˃𐃷˂˶) based off this (not a p!link), unprotected p in v, whipped!gojo, praise, pet names (baby/babygirl, sweetheart, angel)

the sounds in the once quiet room are obscene— breathy moans, loud squelching with each precise thrust of gojo's hips, and the bed frame thunking against the wall.

he's so deep inside you, you feel him in your throat. all you can do is claw at his broad back desperately, leaving angry red marks in your wake. "toru– ohfuck--!" you're struggling to catch your breath, "s'too much!" his pace is unrelenting, so the least he can do is talk you through it.

"m'sorry, babygirl, i know" his breath fans over your skin as he coos at you so sweetly, a direct opposite to the way he's fucking into you. "s'big, huh?" he's practically cradling you, holding you so close to his chest that you feel his heart beating a frantic rhythm against yours.

he pulls your face from hiding in the crook of his neck all to press gentle, reverent kisses over your flushed skin. "my precious girl," he praises, "doin' so good for me, my perfect baby" he moans softly when he feels your pussy flutter around him at his sweet words.

"there you go, you like that?" his voice isn't teasing in the slightest, all genuine loving words, all reserved for you.

that familiar heat is growing low in your belly, his cock hitting your g-spot only intensifying the pressure. "m'close– g'na make me cum--" you manage to breathe out some resemblance of a sentence, through his overwhelming affection and each word coming out as a moan, talking proves to be a bit difficult.

"yeah?" his voice is low and smooth, "y'can't help it, i know sweetheart," he rubs your arm tenderly, "gonna help you, okay? can i do that baby?" you can tell just how enamored he is by you, speaking to you and loving on you like you're the only person in the world, gazing at you like you hung the stars just for him.

you nod dumbly, not caring to ask what he means with how fucked-out you are, brain a pile of mush. before you can compute, he snakes his hand down between the two of you and finds your puffy folds, spreading them. you gasp, hands squeezing at his biceps. "s'okay" he reassures you, thumb finding your sensitive clit and rubbing tight circles on the bud.

it's enough to make you cry out in pleasure, enough to make you gush around his cock. gojo groans at the feeling, watching your expression in pure awe. "i know, baby" his pace never falters, so close to the edge himself. "there you go, let it all out–" his balls tighten up as he hits his peak, still holding you close, wanting there to be no space between the two of you. he fucks into you a few last times while spilling his warm release deep inside of you, a heady feeling.

he nearly pants, not bothering to pull out when he flops down beside you and pulls you to lay on his chest. you're worn out, and thoroughly satisfied. "did so good, sweet girl" he's smiling, cooing at you and scratching your back soothingly. you simply hum in response, words failing you.

he lets out a chuckle, "my sleepy angel..." his cheesy words could make you laugh if you weren't so spent, so you settle on curling into the comfort of him further, letting him pamper you with his voice.

as you both doze off, you swear you can hear him whisper a little "love you", and you know he means it. because you're all his, and he's all yours.

© 𝓹outyharu | all rights reserved. please do not reupload or claim my work as your own. do not feed my content into ai systems.

[bo0nngie]

I think this bunny is more attractive with glasses

[bo0nngie]

I think this bunny is more attractive with glasses