THE QUALITY IS -1080P BUT TOJI LOOKS SO FUCKING DILFY AND DELICIOUS OH MY FUCKING GOD

Before going further, I want to take a moment to pay respect and remembrance to those who were forced from their homes and killed during early American period (late 18th and early 19th century) and their descendants who underwent forced sterilization, placed in foster care and residential schools across the Americas during the between the 1870s and 1990s.

kakichihiwewin ᑲᑭᒋᐦᐃᐁᐧᐃᐧᐣ is a Cree word that reverberates through the generations and means the act of consoling and // or healing with words. Words can be weapons and tools of destruction, or they can be tools for healing that reclaim stories, identities, and land.

Ways to Support 

Indigenous Impact Community Care Initiative 

National Native American Boarding School Healing Coalition 

Support Seeding Sovereignty 

Additional Readings:

You can find these books in my bookshop Neighborhood Historian under the list You Stand on Native Land.

For Librarians: 

Teaching Thanksgiving in a Socially Responsible Way by Amanda Morris 

For Grown(ish) Scholars: 

What Is Settler-Colonialism? by Amanda Morris 

What Native Land do you Reside On?  An Interactive Map

So, your boyfriend cheated on you? Wooooooow. And guess what’s even worse? He cheated on you with your best friend. WOOOOOOOW.

But you know what’s even worse than all of that? BEING A CELEBRITY AND HAVING EVERYONE KNOW YOUR BUSINESS.

So yeah, to say you were going through it? That would be the understatement of the century.

Gojo had been your boyfriend for nine months before you two had the break-up of the year. Twitter, Instagram—everywhere. And how did it all go down? Oh, you caught him with your best friend in your bed. YOUR bed. In YOUR house.

Like, this man couldn’t even cheat in his own place. The audacity.

You had just finished a livestream with your co-star Sukuna, where the two of you were promoting your new movie and talking all kinds of trash. You came home, and boom—you caught them right in the act.

Yeah. It was bad. Like, really bad.

Honestly, you didn’t even know how to react at first. It felt like time just stopped for a second. Gojo had the nerve—the absolute gall—to act like you were the one intruding. Like, hello? Is this not my house? Is this not my bed you’re... defiling?

Your best friend—oh, let’s not forget her—she had the audacity to look embarrassed, like she didn’t know what was happening. Girl, you knew exactly what was happening. I bet you even scheduled it.

You remember standing there, blinking, just... blinking.

After the fallout, things went completely south. It was like your entire life had turned upside down, and you were beyond exhausted. Publicly embarrassed, utterly humiliated—it felt like the world was watching you fall apart. But what made it worse? They made their relationship public not even a week after the breakup. It was like getting slapped in the face repeatedly with no chance to catch your breath.

Just... embarrassing.

But the hits kept coming. There was an awards show coming up, and back when things were good—when you and Gojo were still dating and that bitch was still your best friend—you had agreed to co-host the event with him. But now? Yeah, you backed out, obviously. You weren’t about to stand on stage next to him and pretend everything was fine. Oh, but guess who was replacing you?

Yep. Her.

Life wasn’t just kicking you while you were down, it was dropkicking you off a cliff.

The only person who had your back through all of this was Sukuna. And even he couldn’t stay out of trouble. They had run into each other at a fashion show—Gojo, smug as ever, probably thinking he’d gotten away with it—and Sukuna, being the unpredictable menace he is, didn’t even waste time with words. He left Gojo bloody and bruised right there, in front of everyone.

Sukuna didn’t care about the cameras or the gossip; he was defending you, and everyone knew it.

Of course, the media had a field day. “Sukuna vs. Gojo: The Fashion Week Brawl,” headlines screamed. But you? For the first time in weeks, you actually felt a little better. Sukuna had stood up for you when you couldn’t even stand up for yourself.

You remember sitting in your penthouse, scrolling through the millions of reactions online, and getting a text from Sukuna that just said, “Handled it.”

You laughed, for the first time in days.

When the night of the awards show finally came, you were this close to skipping it altogether. Why put yourself through the humiliation? You knew you were going to get flamed by the press, by fans, by everyone. Not out of jealousy—no, it wasn’t that. It was the betrayal. How could they do this to you? You would never, ever do something like that to them. And yet, here you were—hurt, broken, and betrayed, not just by your boyfriend but by your best friend too.

Why?

You had poured all of that out to Sukuna during yet another night of drowning your sorrows—high, drunk, and completely out of your mind. You didn’t expect him to care, let alone do anything about it. But Sukuna? He just looked at you, all casual, and said, “Get ready. I’m going with you.”

Wait, what?

Sukuna being your date? The idea was absurd, and in your state, you could hardly process it, but before you knew it, you were dressed up, and he was right there by your side, like it was no big deal.

When you hit the red carpet, though? Oh, it was a mess. Your eyes were so bloodshot from being high and drunk, and you couldn’t even walk properly without stumbling. The cameras were flashing like crazy, and you knew everyone was watching you fall apart in real-time.

Oh yeah, the media was having a field day with your misery. You could already imagine the headlines: “Y/N Falls from Grace,” “Celebrity Trainwreck,” “Sukuna Saves the Day?”

But Sukuna? He didn’t care. He held onto you, guiding you with surprising patience. His hand on your waist, steady and strong.

He didn’t leave your side once, not even for a second. And while you felt like your life was unraveling, Sukuna somehow made it feel like maybe you weren’t totally alone.

After stumbling through the red carpet and barely making it to your seat, you thought maybe—just maybe—you could survive the night unnoticed. Sukuna was with you, keeping you steady, and you figured that if you just laid low, the rest of the event would fly by. You’d go home, sleep it off, and deal with the inevitable media storm later.

But, of course, because the universe was apparently hell-bent on ruining your life, your name was called for an award.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

Your brain tried to catch up. Your heart dropped. Why do I have to be alive for this?

You’d been so caught up in the disaster of your breakup that the idea of winning an award hadn’t even crossed your mind. You were high, tipsy, and an emotional mess, and now they wanted you to get up on stage? In front of them?

Oh, and of course, just to make things worse, Gojo and that girl—your ex-best friend—were hosting. The last people you wanted to see, much less share a stage with.

You made eye contact with Gojo for a split second, and he smirked. That little smug, self-satisfied grin, like he was winning in some twisted game you didn’t even know you were playing. And her? Standing next to him, all smiles, pretending like she wasn’t a snake.

You were going to have to walk up there, past them, and make a speech. While drunk and high. Oh, this was going to be spectacularly bad.

Sukuna leaned over and grunted, “You got this. If you trip, I’ll catch you before you hit the ground.”

With a groan, you got up, Sukuna standing too, steadying you as you wobbled your way to the stage. The crowd was watching. Everyone was watching. You were stumbling, trying not to faceplant as you felt their eyes burning holes into you. You nearly tripped twice. But Sukuna? He stayed right there beside you, not caring about the stares or whispers, like your personal bodyguard from hell.

When you reached the stage, your heart was pounding, and not just because of the alcohol. You took the award with shaky hands and glanced at the microphone. Gojo and your former best friend were standing just a few feet away, and you could feel them watching, waiting for you to make a fool of yourself.

You blinked at the mic. Then you blinked at the crowd. The room was spinning a little. You had no idea what to say, but you had to say something. So you took a deep breath and started:

“Wow. Uh... wow, this is, like... crazy, right? So... um, first of all, thanks. Like, thanks for... all of this. The award. The love. It’s great, really great.”

You paused, blinking at the crowd, who were dead silent. You were pretty sure your words didn’t make sense. But whatever. You were already in too deep.

“Y’know,” you continued, “this whole thing—like, life?—it’s kinda like a Barbie movie. Like, I thought I was Barbie, but turns out I was... um... more like... not Barbie. Like, I thought Gojo was my Ken, but he’s more like, uh... I don’t know, one of the Kens no one cares about? And then, y’know, maybe I’m the Ken. Maybe we’re all just Kens. Or maybe... maybe none of us are.”

People in the audience were glancing at each other, clearly confused, but you pressed on.

“And Gojo—like, no, he didn’t cheat on me!” you blurted, pointing at him. “He’s just... he’s just really bad at... you know... not being the worst. And I thought we were gonna, like, do great things together. But you know who’s the real Ken? Sukuna. That’s right. He’s the best Ken. And Ken’s aren’t even real! But he’s real.”

You could hear people in the crowd starting to giggle. Some people were holding in their laughter, but it was spreading like wildfire.

“And you know what else?” you said, starting to dance a little. “Life’s too short to not... have fun. So here’s me, having fun!”

At that point, you started dancing. Yes, right there on stage. Awkward, goofy, completely out-of-rhythm dancing. The crowd started to laugh for real now. You were feeling it. You didn’t care anymore—at least you weren’t crying, and that was a win in your book.

Gojo looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole, and your ex-best friend looked utterly mortified. But Sukuna? He was grinning, arms crossed, standing off to the side like he was enjoying every second of it.

After what felt like an eternity, you realized you still had the mic in your hand. Oh. Right. The speech. You stopped dancing and wobbled back to the microphone.

“So, yeah,” you said, voice slurring a little, “this award... it’s great. I love it. You all are great. Barbie is great. Life is... weird. And... I think that’s it? I don’t know. But thank you. I think.”

You put the mic down and blinked again, realizing that you had, indeed, just made a speech about Barbie, Ken, and your personal mess of a life in front of hundreds of celebrities and millions watching at home.

Before you could make another disastrous move, Sukuna was already stepping forward. Without saying a word, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you over his shoulder like you were a sack of potatoes. The crowd gasped, the cameras flashed, and there you were, being carted off stage by Sukuna, who was clearly done with the nonsense.

As he turned to leave, Sukuna made sure to bump his shoulder—hard—into Gojo’s as he passed, nearly knocking him over. Gojo shot him a glare, but Sukuna didn’t even look back. The crowd saw it, and a few cheers went up.

You, still slung over Sukuna’s shoulder, started laughing. Loudly.

“Thanks, Sukuna,” you mumbled, your face buried in his back, barely able to keep your eyes open. “I’m totally killing it tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunted. “Let’s just get you out of here before you start talking about G.I. Joe next.”

And just like that, Sukuna carried you out of the awards show, leaving Gojo and the disaster behind as the cameras flashed and the crowd buzzed.

You’d made a complete fool of yourself, sure. But at least you weren’t alone.

His best friend 🐈😺😅

NSFW- Minors and Ageless blogs please dni

Nepo-baby!Gojo x f!Reader, Gojo’s a loser/desperate, Modern AU, Masturbation (Gojo), slight public masturbation (tbh it’s just Satoru being down bad)

Word count: 4.5k

Author’s yap: Ok ok ok so- I started this when the lack of AC in my dorm was frying my brain, and it gave me an idea. Now I’m freezing my ass off and fantasizing about the heat. This isn’t too smutty, but if I’m still into this, I might expand… Enjoy pooks <3

Dive In!

It’s hot as shit outside, and you know what that means: the college rec center pool’s gonna be packed.

Every god-forsaken year, the Earth teeters a bit too close to the Sun just around the time that students are moving those obnoxious highlighter-colored carts up and down the streets carrying their belongings. Everyone’s wiping their foreheads, a content sigh when they step into the lobby of the dorm building. This doesn’t last too long, unfortunately. Because as soon as you step onto a resident floor, let alone an actual dorm room, it’s like Satan pulled apart his ass cheeks and sandwiched you right in between ‘em.

Hot as shit and there’s no AC, so for the very unlucky majority who didn’t bring a fan (as instructed by housing, who don’t live under these conditions, mind you), they’re stuck sizzling in their dorms, hopelessly opening their dusty windows for wishing for any semblance of a draft to come in.

It’s miserable. But luckily, there’s a solution! And no, it’s not fighting someone’s mom for the last desk fan in Target.

It’s the university’s recreational pool! Open to all students, it’s like a gift from Heaven (or a college alumni). Everyone, and I mean everyone, is there.

It’s like a big pool party (albeit indoors)- everyone’s got some sort of appendage in the water, trying to cool off. A few girls have their towels set up on the side, lying on their stomach as they scroll on their phone or read a book. A couple of people brought a beach ball- tossing it around. You're sitting on the side chatting with your roommate, Shoko, kicking your feet into the water, as she leans on the rim of the pool, hair up in a clip.

“I don’t get why they haven’t installed any AC units- or even central air.”

“If they even think about renovating, G. Hall will literally fall into smithereens.”

Shoko jokes, resting her chin in her hand as she looks up at you, tiredly.

“As if the Gojo clan wouldn’t be able to donate more money for a renovation. That’s pocket money for them.” You yawn, drained too. The heat is tiring. Especially after the two of you just finished setting up your dorm together for the third year in a row- this time, without your parents to help y’all. Y’all were burning up, and you needed to cool down- real bad.

You do a scan of the pool. Some familiar faces, others not so much. The school’s big as shit, and you keep to yourself and your group- you don’t need to know everybody. Yuki’s in the water with her boyfriend, playing chicken with some other people. She’s got a death grip on his pigtails, almost as if she’s steering him around, smothering his face between her thighs. A guy named Kento- your study partner from last year- is over by the stairs to the pool- wanting to be in it, but not completely submerged. He seems to be enjoying his time by himself. Ino and his boys are the ones hitting around the beach ball, splashing around in the extremely crowded pool.

“Look at all of our sorry asses…” You mutter, sighing as you sip on a drink you brought.

“When I didn’t want summer to end, I wasn’t talkin about the heat. But whatever. 2 more weeks being in the 8th circle of hell, and it’s back to our regularly scheduled progra- oh my-” Shoko stops mid sentence, her eyes glued to something as she hits your thigh profusely.

“What- what? Yaga in a jock strap?” You finally turn and see him (Shoko side eyes you- why would you want to look at Yaga in a jock strap). The man, The myth. The… nuisance.

“I thought he was too good to come here and hang with the common folk.”

“Maybe he wanted to cosplay as a broke college student like the rest of us for a day.”

Satoru Gojo- ultimate legacy, trust fund baby, nepo spawn, and just all-around spoiled brat. And he’s proud of it. Wearing blue Versace swim shorts and his sunglasses indoors, which only works for him with his scary ass eyes, he saunters into the place, expressing unbelievable childlike wonder at the sight of the pool.

“So this is what a public pool is like!”

“You don’t have to sound pretentious.” Suguru quips, walking in front of his best friend to scan the area. It’s crowded as a bitch in this place.

“I’m just- amazed, that's all. And you come here by yourself?”

“No. With other friends. Because I’m likable.”

Satoru frowns at that, shifting his beach chair under his arm uncomfortably.

“And it’s not like you’d come.” This was true. Under normal circumstances, Satoru wouldn’t step foot in this place. The water wouldn’t be good for his skin. But, when his pool’s getting renovated, he figures that he has no choice. He thought that there would be 5, maybe 10 people there. Well, he now knows he was wrong; almost all of JJU: Tokyo is here. And he’s now also made aware of the fact that most students don’t have AC.

He follows behind Suguru as he leads them through the crowd of bodies, the head radiating from them all damn near breaking Satoru out into a sweat.

“Here- and lean that chair up against the wall or something. It’ll take up too much space.” Suguru says, as he hunkers down on the floor, scooting up to the clearing at the rim of the pool. He smooths the back of his hair up, readjusting his ponytail, sighing when his legs hit the water.

Yea… Satoru’s not doin that. He brought this chair, and he’s gonna use it, spatial awareness be damned. Ignoring all of the dirty looks he gets from people, he sets his chair right next to his friend (who is pretending not to know him) and sits, reclining with a dramatic sigh that only Satoru could argue was authentic. He crosses his legs and puts his hands woven behind his head, looking up and basking… in the industrial light.

“You can’t tan under this IKEA lighting.” Suguru says, not even bothering to look in Satoru’s direction.

“Yea- well, what do you propose that I do?” Satoru can feel himself getting slightly irritated with this public pool shit.

“Get in the water. That’s what we came here for, right.”

Satoru clumsily folds up his chair, not even bothering to go lean it against the wall in fear that he’d lose his sliver of access to the water (he doubts that Suguru would save it for him right now to be honest). Slowly but surely, he eases himself down into the water, holding his breath. He can already feel that he’s goin to need several bubble baths (extra bubbles) after this. He even closes his eyes, wading in the water and trying to get comfortable.

And then Satoru jumps into something. With a slight jolt, he looks over his shoulder and he’s gobsmacked seeing you look back at him, glasses threatening to fall off his dripping face.

He quickly gathers himself, pushing his glasses up then running his hand through his hair. And then he subtly recoils, realizing he just let that filthy shit in his scalp.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Shoko’s got a shit-eating grin on her face, as you look at this man, somewhat horrified. Never did you think that you would ever meet this man face to face, but here he is- back to leg. And he’s hot- I mean, not in the physical way (well, you don’t think he’s bad looking but-) he’s quite literally hot to the touch. It’s abnormal- his body temperature’s like magma.

“Sorry.” He gives you a faint smile, the right dimple he has showing slightly.

“No worries.”

There’s a period of silence, and you take this opportunity to try and turn back to your friend, but he pipes up.

“I’m Satoru, by the way. What’s your name?”

You turn to look at him, gears turning in your head as your decide whether or not you want to give him a fake name or-

Yuki calls your name from the center of the pool and you almost curse at the timing.

“Wanna hop in this round?” She calls, Choso’s hands on her thighs to steady her while her hands are cupped around her mouth, calling out to you. Choso brings them closer.

“No, I’m ok. I don’t have a partner-”

“I’ll be your partner.” Satoru practically has stars in his eyes. "If... you want me to be, though. I'm a stranger, so- so stranger danger…”

Oh brother, he’s rich and a fuckin loser.

"So you wanna play, rich boy?" Yuki asks him, completely neglecting the shudder that both you and Satoru do in response to his whack ass comment. Shit, even Choso winces in response, trying to regulate his usually very expressive face just in case Satoru sees, tells his clan, and Choso’s scholarship ends up revoked.

Satoru manages to stammer out a yes, though followed by him saying he understands if he wasn't invited to play.

"This is not kindergarten- you can play with the big kids." She jokes, hopping off her boyfriend's shoulders and into the water.

"I'll be your partner for this round, if that helps. I’m good at it, don’t worry." You're absolutely elated that Yuki offered herself- you're not sure if you would have been able to team up with Satoru. You and Choso are cool, exchanging a grin as you hop off of the ledge of the pool, plowing through the water over to him.

"Ok...."

"..."

"How do you play chicken?"

Good grief.

“I’ll teach you, then.” Yuki wades over to Satoru, and his lips contort into a nervous grin. He just prays that he doesn’t embarrass himself (anymore than he already has) in front of you.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Satoru ain't shit at playing chicken.

“I’m best friends with a bubble boy…” Suguru mutters under his breath, running his hand painstakingly over his face as he watches Satoru look like a cat in water.

Any splash to his face, and he's completely selling, allowing Yuki to fall off (much to her dismay) or giving you and Choso enough time to make y'all's way over to them to attack. It was to the point that your body was completely dry, save for your feet. Slowly but surely though (after like, 5 rounds), he begins to get the hang of it, getting over his disdain for this rancid water touching his face and accepting the fact that he'll have to do several deep cleanings of his pores when he gets home.

He's actually starting to have fun- settling more into the atmosphere and letting his competitiveness show. And you're not minding it. You were dreading having to interact with him at first, let alone play a game with him because you thought that he would be a dick, but you were wrong. Well, not exactly wrong- but he was less dicky than you thought.

“Ok- time to switch for the next round!” Yuki says with a smile (which looks slightly elated, in your opinion) as she hops off of Satoru’s shoulders.

“Hm? We don’t stay with the same partners every round?” Satoru asks- something you were also thinking. For once you too seem to be on the same page about this game.

“No! We switch every round.” What a goddamn liar. She’s just tired of losing because the pretty princess is scared of getting his face wet.

This means that you’re stuck with the pretty princess. Fuck.

You slowly climb down Choso, who is simultaneously welcoming his girlfriend with open arms. Satoru’s mind is moving a mile a minute with every little ripple of water to inadvertently send in his direction.

You make your way over to the ledge of the pool, hoisting yourself up, and by Heaven- Satoru can see your ass jiggle out of his peripheral and he almost seizes. You turn around, and sit on the ledge, just looking at him. And he swears he’s getting closer to going into cardiac arrest with every second of him being the center of your attention.

“Come here-” You beckon, motioning for him with your hand. He nods helplessly, trying not to look too desperate with how fast he’s moving to you.

“Now I’m not as good as Yuki, so if we lose, it’s not entirely on you this time.” You smile, scooting up, placing your legs over his shoulders. Good lord does this man smell… expensive. It’s good. I’m not talking played out Dior Savauge, I’m talking Hermès, Dolce and Gabbana. You’re a sucker for a good smelling man. Even if this one is quite literally the most dramatic man on Earth.

“I’m not good at all, so anything you do I’ll watch with awe.” He places his hands on your thighs- jeez, his hands are big.

You laugh, thinking he’s joking. He’s not.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You shift nervously on Satoru's shoulders, while Satoru is quite literally in Heaven- though, he would prefer it if his face were the other way. He has never been this close to a woman outside of his family, so this entire interaction was rocking his small little world. He's keeping his hands on your thighs while his mind is completely mush, his ears are flushed. It’s like as soon as you got on his shoulders, his ability to comprehend anything said to him was decimated.

“Satoru- Satoru!”

You call to him as Chosou and Yuki splash towards you, Yuki’s face wearing a huge smile now that she’s got the upper hand. You call him again, and all this bumbling buffoon can manage to say to you is “Uh-huh, u-uh-huh.”

(Shoko runs to the bathroom, almost peeing herself from laughing too hard.)

Fuck it- thinking quick, you grab a hold of his hair, trying to Remi-Ratatouille him around. And surprisingly- it works!

Left you go!

Right- to the riiiighhhhhhhhttttt-

Satoru has no fuckin idea what’s going on right now. He’s just happy to be here, a grinning mess while you pull him around the pool, narrowly avoiding Yuki, who’s maniacal laughter trails behind the two of you. 

It’s like riding a horse the way he thoughtlessly follows your pull.

“Satoru- are you ok?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at your opponents. You’re hoping that your teammate will stop being so useless, gain back consciousness, and help you the fuck out.

Getting desperate, you palm the side of his face, shaking it. Suddenly, he stops moving, and it’s like his breath is caught in his throat- a sound was caught in it? You don’t know what happened, because the next thing you knew, Yuki and Choso came crashing into you, causing you and Satoru to fly into the water. 

Gasping for air, you paddle in the water, eyes burning profusely. Satoru comes up soon after this, and you glare at him. 

His cheeks are flushed, as he lets out deep, heavy breaths. “Sorry..” Is all he could seem to muster out, giving you a nervous grin.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Satoru’s starting to get the hang of it. Ok maybe not really- but he’s more active at least. You appreciate that, as well as the banter he’s contributing. His socially inept demeanor is slowly dissolving, and he’s flinching less and less at the water.

You’re actually having a lot of fun with him.

“You guys can’t keep running forever!” Yuki yells, getting kind of frustrated from how the two of you keep slipping out of her grasp.

“Oh really? watch us.” Satoru’s grip tightens on your thighs as he splashes around to put more distance between y’all, causing you to squeal. 

“Satoru if I fall- go slow!” You say in between laughing fits. 

“Just hold on, and you won’t!”

Maybe you too had a fighting chance with this. Actually- you think you might win at least a round or two.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You two lost. Miserably. Yuki’s a fucking beast, and Choso’s the definition of an immovable force. You guys could only get away from them for so long- let’s not forget the pool’s crowded as shit. Y’all didn’t stand a chance. But hey- Satoru’s not too bad. Maybe he was just having a rough time adjusting to talking to people who don’t have a networth of $1 million+. But it was fun, you can not lie.

Satoru’s laugh is airy while he allows you to get off of his shoulders, listening to you teasing him for his performance. You shuffle yourself back onto the ledge of the pool next to Shoko, who seems to be in deep conversation with Suguru.

“I never thought that someone could be that bad at Chicken.”

“Hey- I prefaced this entire thing with the fact that I didn’t know how to play.” He laughs again- he’s so giggly right now, removing himself from between your legs and going to the area next to you, places his head in his hand while he looks up at you.

“Yea, but that bad?”

“Mention it again and I’ll have a meeting with Financial Aid about you.” 

The both of you crack up.

…He’s kind of pretty- somewhere in the game he pushed his sunglasses up onto his hair, wet strands of white sticking to his forehead.The sight of his smile warms you up a bit inside. When he’s down here with the common people, he’s a pretty cool person to be around.

“I can see why you don’t come here often, then.” You say, tiling your head towards him.

“Ah, well, I usually just go to my par-” Satoru’s voice dies off. How about he doesn’t talk about his privilege for a bit. Cosplay a normal college student for a little- at least with you. He wants to relate to you- to get to know you on all levels- as much as humanly possible. 

“I… just didn’t see a purpose for it before. But this was fun.”

“A sign for you to come more often, then.”

“Will you be here?”

You smirk. “Why, so you can get our asses whooped in a game again?”

He grins, right dimple once again making an appearance.

“Just asking- the poop- pool- pool. Fuck. The pool’s nice.” He sighs- covering his face in embarrassment, cheeks swelled up with blood. 

“Sorry. Waterlog.”

You burst out laughing- his slip up and awkward responses are starting to grow on you. It’s cute.

“Well I’m sure that you have AC, so you don’t have to worry too much about being hot and sticky in a room.”

“Mmmwell,” He takes a breath, “I wouldn’t mind being hot and sticky with- hm.”

He pauses, letting his embarrassment settle in. “I’ll stop trying to talk now.”

This gets another giggle from you. “You could just say that it would be nice to see me again.” You adjust your bikini bottoms (haha) up on your hips, and then place your hand to your side to lean closer to him.

“It would be, yes.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be too bad to see you, either.”

“Satoru. We gotta go-” Suguru stands up from the ledge with a stretch. “We needa go grab groceries for the apartment.”

Satoru groans. He swiftly hoists himself up out of the water effortlessly (he hopes that you were watching, thanking the lord that he constantly worked out at the apartment gym) and quickly grabs his chair, holding it in front of himself.

“I’ll see you- and the pool again.” 

“Mhm.” You wave him bye while he trails behind Suguru out of the pool room.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

He came in the pool.

He. Fucking. Came. 

Sperm swimming in the chlorine.

He doesn't even know how it happened. With every tug of his white tufts, his dick throbbed and twitched, rubbing against the fabric of his swim shorts in a way that was driving him mad. He was already fighting for his life with having your pussy pressed up against the back of his neck. And the way that you called his name- Oo, it was dizzying for him.

Next thing he knew, your hand was on his face, and he was biting the shit out of his tongue trying not to moan, knees buckling while he shoots into the water.

And you smiled at him!

He practically talked Suguru’s ear off (nothing new) in the car about it while on the drive back to their apartment. Besides the cumming in his pants part- nah, he’s taking that to the grave. He was just so giddy about the day. His first flirtatious interaction with the opposite sex! How exciting!

“Yea yea I get it she’s so pretty, you get hard thinking about her, and you come in your pants just thinkin about her. Can we get out of fantasyland and go into Trader Joe’s now?”

Suguru rolls his eyes, looking out the passenger seat window, his arm hanging out. Satoru flushes.

“Why would anybody cum in the pool?”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

But yes, where was he? Oh yea, his hand’s fisting his cock.

He doesn’t know how his hand ended up there.

Oh, he was so pathetic today. He couldn’t even speak normally to you, let alone touch you without short-circuiting. And the way you looked at him. Like he was an absolute idiot- he’s never had anyone look at him like that before… except Suguru but it’s not the same. In a weird way, it turns him on. At least he redeemed himself slightly in the end, while he was subtly rubbing himself against the pool walls, the small dips in the tiling making the friction so much more enjoyable. 

What a fucking loser, getting off to the sound of your voice- and in a public place? Your pretty little laugh did wonders to him. And to be under your gaze with such scrutiny- ohmygod he was so happy he brought that chair, using it to cover his hard-on as he smiled at you like an idiot, following behind his best friend like a preschooler going back inside after recess.

He loved seeing how you adjusted your bathing-suit, nipples becoming erect as soon as you got out of the pool. The way that your pussy was a flimsy cloth away from coming into real contact with him- he is swimming in his thoughts right now.

And you smelt so good- it’s definitely nothing he’s ever smelt before (because he’s been close to any woman that’s had a scent worth below $200). The smell is just so- you (he plans on driving to every single fragrance store to pinpoint said scent so he can spray it on his pillow to smell while he plays with himself).

There’s nothing he wouldn’t give to have you splayed out on his bed with his head between your thighs, eating you out until you’re frantically calling for him, a tight grip on his hair the way that only you can do. Fucking his hand while you moan, for him- he’d go bankrupt to hear it. He would make you feel good- he knows it- he’ll make it his life’s mission. The little stutters and quivers you’d make when you would get close, pleading for him to make you cum. And don’t even get him started on how he would feel when his cock sinks into you. He’s confident that he wouldn’t last any longer within five minutes. As soon as he pushes past the rim, he’d be shooting ropes. So he’d have to eat you out first to save the little slivers of his dignity that he has left.

He wonders- would you think he was big? Would you struggle taking him? Fuck, seeing you whine and moan, begging him with cute little “slow down”s and whimpering about how good he’s stretching your cunt. 

He’s so stuck up in the way that your hands entangled themselves into his hair- fuck- he lets out a helpless whine as he continues his fuck sesh, moving his hand upupup, the ring of precum chasing his hand with each stroke. You used his body with little regard to how he would feel- not like he cared. You could use him however the hell you’d like. Fuck, his dick was aching with each tug. 

And you got in that water. 

He’s filthy- just so- so depraved for the way that that makes him harder, causing him to stroke himself faster. You were practically bathing in his cum, albeit unknowingly. How fucking nasty is that? He pictures you accidentally swallowing it- what would it be like watching you actually take it? Would you replicate your teary, chlorine-stung eyes while you were on your knees for him, throat fucked-out, tongue lolled, and waiting for his cum?

With that, he’s seeing stars, shooting comets onto his satin sheets, utterances of “Oh fuck”s and “I’m cumming”s, and finally, with a sigh, says your name while his lower torso twitches from the sensitivity, accompanied with the cool breeze his fan is blowing onto his handless cock.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“The amount of emails we’ve been getting about the heat is starting to get a bit concerning, I must admit.” One of the chairs of the university says, mouth full of food. 

All of the important figure heads of the college are sitting at the Gojo family’s long dinner table, conversing like the old buddies they are. It’s a usual thing for them to do, where they chat about stupid, unimportant uppity-rich people things, like school funding or whatever.

“What do you think we should do about this?” The housing chair directs this question to Satoru’s father, who opens his mouth before his son interrupts quickly, voice booming in the confident air that he learned to develop with people in (or slightly below- not too far below) his tax bracket.

“My friend’s in the dorms say that the dorms are pretty cool- It’s cold in there, even.” Satoru says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders while he pushes his wagyu around on his plate. 

What a fuckin liar, but it’s the cross he’s willing to bare in order to see you again. Bikini covering the parts that make his mouth water, fanning yourself from the heat- hot and bothered, just like him. It’ll be worth the possible pimples he’ll get.

With this, the big-wigs frame their decision around this.

“Oh, really? It’s already so cold…”

“it would also mean that we would have to expand the budget.”

“The students should be fine without AC. If anything, the pool is open.”

Satoru looks down, smiling to himself.

If the students of Jujutsu University: Tokyo knew that the only reason they’re not getting AC units is because Satoru Gojo, all-around nepo-baby, spoiled brat, and pussy-whipped loser wants to have a chance to see the girl he fucks himself to at the pool again, they’d barbeque and skewer him alive.

me with gojo satoru and satoru gojo

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

Spending 4th of July w zuzu!!!

Usually on holidays everyone on campus is supposed to go home and spend time with their families, but of course it's tradition for you all to spend some time with each other before you all part to be with your families.

You all hung out in the common area and watched a movie and laughed together eating snacks and wearing little onesies giving your last hugs to each other before leaving. You, izuku, and katsuki were the first to leave you all went together because izukus mom loved you and he loved that she loved you so he couldn't imagine going and not bringing you with him, and katsuki was basically family to inko, plus his mom and dad were barbequing among other things.

The three of you caught the train to head over to the bakugous house. You sat next to izuku lying your head on his shoulders he laid his on top of yours with a soft smile as he closed his eyes sighing in content. Katsuki groaned and looked out the window your lovey dovey bullshit was making him sick to his stomach, he couldn't believe he had to ride all the way to his house with you two.

Upon arriving you see inko welcoming you all in hugging each and every one of you. She leads you all to the backyard to see katsukis mother sitting on a chair watching her husband and toshinori [allmight] put food on the grill.

"mistuki, look who's arrived!!"

Inko calls out to her friend catching her attention, the blonde legs down her sunglasses to see her son, his friend and a girl she's never met before, you.

"well I'll be damned. Who this little firecracker?"

She asks standing and walking over to you all with open arms, she hugs izuku first with a sway before rubbing her hands in her hand through her sons hair who pushes her arm away, she slaps him in the head before he groans loudly and yells at her, they begin arguing over literally nothing as izuku chuckles nervously and turns to you. You give him a warm smile before mistuki ignores her son and turns to you with a happy smile.

"well I'll be damned. Little izuku has himself a cute lil girlfriend!"

"auntie mistuki this is y/n, my normal sized girlfriend!"

You wave politely with a slight bow to your head, you weren't exactly shy you just didn't want to exactly talk yet. You were afraid you'd say the wrong thing and embarrass yourself. You've already won over inko but katsukis mom was hot, her opinion mattered a lot to inko as well so if you didn't make a good impression she might think something bad of you. You cannot let that happen, you speak your mind often uncontrollably so it's best you keep your mouth shut so you don't offend anyone.

Izuku placed his arm around your waist and planted a kiss to your forehead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried you face in his neck. Mistuki and inko gush about how cute the two of you are.

"KATSUKI! WHY DON'T YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND YET?!"

You all see mistuki yell and question her son who tells her to quote "stop talking to me you old hag!" Which leads to her stomping away to hit her son with her shoe.

Izuku laughed and turned to you he looked at you with the most love filled eyes in the world. His blazing wide emerald green eyes peering down at you. His pupils were literally heart shaped. He had that stupid wobbly lovesick smile on his face his freckles being flushed with a light blush. He was adorable.

"what 'zuku."

You say looking up to him, he shakes his head and just continues to look down at you. He was so in love with you he couldn't help but admire you, your face, your eyes, your lips. You were mesmerizing and he was glad to call you his.

"I love you."

"I love you too, silly."

AN: anyways chat happy 4th of July or wtv if any of you even celebrate ts. I'm black and my family will use any little day as an excuse to barbecue and throw water balloons n what not.

I am Ahmed Al-Nabih from Gaza, and this is my twin brother Abdul Rahman. I am 30 years old. I used to live a beautiful life with my family and my brother. The idea of ​​marriage was on the table and we were going to continue our lives in our beautiful house, but something happened like a nightmare. The war came and took all our dreams and destroyed our house. Our lives became very difficult and arduous. We lived in tents. In the extreme heat, my mother suffers from chronic diseases, heart disease, blood pressure, and diabetes. Please help me save my family and my elderly mother. I ask for your support and participation. A small donation makes a difference. I have only collected 1,60euros in about five months! Thank you all!❤️🙏

Verified by @palestinegenocide @queerstudiesnatural @90-ghost @northgazaupdates @apollos-olives @riding-with-the-wild-hunt

Vetted Gaza Fundraiser List #218 🇵🇸🇵🇸 @el-shab-hussein

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Ahmed, Abedelrahman, and family Escape war, organized by Ziad Okasha

Hello everyone, My name is Ziad Okasha, and I'm from Gaza,… Ziad Okasha needs your support for Help Ahmed, Abedelrahman, and

Pictures of me and my twin brother before the war!

Pictures of us with my mother before the war, when our lives were beautiful and stable!☹️

A picture in the war of my mother, who is 62 years old, due to the lack of medicine because she suffers from chronic diseases, blood pressure, heart, and diabetes. Her health condition deteriorated due to the difficult life in Gaza and famine, and because we live in tents in the extreme heat.!🥹

I am during the war and my life has become arduous and tiring!😌

Now we live here, it is a terrifying life, more like a nightmare!☹️

Our beautiful house has become rubble!😢

mdni; tw for rough sex, degredation, overstimulation, fivesome (whoopsie..), brief name calling at the end, just mean men fucking you ig

can’t stop thinking about tengen, kyojuro, giyuu, and sanemi passing [reader] around like a back alleyway whore 😕

like they would be so rough, so nasty about it. any praise just a bit too condescending to be comforting, kisses too rough and hands too firm. mocking your whines and laughing at the tears brimming your eyelashes.

“what? s’too much already?” one of them would coo, and another would scoff, “awe, don’t be so sensitive, we’ve barely even done anything to ya,”

which is a lie, of course, because they’ve been stretching you full for hours now. pushing you past the brink of exhaustion. pounding into you until your knees were collapsing- only for one of them to prop a pillow under your tummy, instead.

“c-can’t take it- ah! hah, too much, too much,” you’d slur through swollen lips and a bruised throat, “feels t’good,”

and they’d listen to your whines like it was music to their ears, their responses nothing but filthy words and curses. while one or two are thrusting into your overused holes from behind, another is positioning himself in front of you. tapping the head of his cock against your cheek, smearing his precum on your lips.

“c’mon now, open up.”

and you would, because no matter how much you whine and cry and plead, you still can’t deny the ache in your body when they treat you like this.

“there ya go, that’s our good lil’ whore,”

satoru can be so mean sometimes. sometimes, when you try to be bratty to get his attention, he can't help himself when the string of patience just snaps! and suddenly he's on you, your face smooshed into your plushies, ass in the air, back arched like a cat, nails digging into the very wet sheets—

he fucks mercilessly. one thrust after another. deep, gut wrenching strokes, his tip kissing your cervix. he's mean. his hips snap against your ass at a pace you didn't even know was possible. he keeps you in a position where you can't do anything but moan and beg— and he's not even considering the degrading, mean words he spits out as he delivers loud smacks against your already reddened butt.

"s-such a brat baby— hah!— why're you cryin'? wasn't this what you wanted?"

"c'mon, take it, girl– ngh! gonna f-fill you up so good, s'good— you'll feel me for days- fuck!"

and he thinks he feels you quivering. your sweaty, poor body almost breaking down at the overstimulation. he's so harsh— you were already struggling to take him normally, and now you're taking his full size while he's pounding into you! his tip is already leaking pre-cum inside of you, not that you're in any need of lubrication— you've been wet the whole day, basically dripping as you begged your boyfriend for only his tip! but he just left you waiting. of course you were going to be a bit bratty and tease him!

and gojo didn't reflect on his behavior towards yours. he thought this was what you deserved. every pound, every smack, every second of your walls stretching even further, almost painfully so. he thinks you deserved to cry, your cheeks wet with your own salty tears— but...

when you start to clench around him, his thrusts getting sloppier, he thinks you're close. you should be—

so why do you look like you're struggling?

your high-pitched moans reduce to mere whimpers and whines. you're squirming more than usual, and soon he finds out that you're desperately trying to choke his name out. he grunts, deciding to play along, "m-mhm, baby? what is it?"

he notices you trying to move your arms, interlocking them behind your back. humming and amused, he grins as he watches you, removing the harsh pressure of his palm he's been applying on your back.

that seems to do it, because just a second after, your fingers are wriggling behind you, arms stretched across your back, still choking out syllables of what should be his name.

and that's when he realizes—

you're trying to hold his hand while he absolutely blows your back out.

to say his heart melts is an understatement. he stills inside you for a moment. as the sounds of angry sex fade out, you're able to hear his pants, not to forget your own whines and whimpers.

he's doing absolutely everything in his power not to coo at your attempt, but he fails, absolutely softening. he could tear up, really— and it takes alot to make a man like him cry.

so, he interlocks his fingers with yours as his other hand holds the curve of your waist, his strokes deep and delicate now. not only that, but his words soften too.

"'m sorry baby, you j..just wanted someone to ease y'r ache down there, mh?"

"should've t-taken care of— hmp!— of you sooner, my love— 'm such an asshole, aren't i?"

and he finds it amusing, watching you shake your head desperately, murmuring sweet little 'no's and 'y're the best 'toru's.

maybe, he was just a teensy tiny bit too mean with you earlier.

masterlist