Gojo X Reader Smut - Blog Posts

This shit hits harder than Peruvian cocaine 🙏🏻

kickoff | series masterlist.

gojo satoru x reader [18+] | angst, fluff, smut

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ status. ongoing

ᰔ word count. 72.5k

ᰔ taglist. open (feel free to comment!)

chapter index.

ch1. gojo satoru sent you a message

ch2. terms and conditions

ch3. returning the favor

ch4. a day in the life of a hot soccer player

ch5. these feelings are hard to find

ch6. devil's advocate

ch7. to lose someone you love

ch8. a little cottage on the countryside

ch9. words you've been wanting to hear

ch10. pending...

additional content.

official headcanons pt1. fluff, mild nsfw | link

anon headcanons. fluff | link

a note from the author. hello! my name is ellie, and this is my first long fic series called 'kickoff' which i began posting earlier this year in january! if you do decide to read it, i thank you very much from the bottom of my heart as it means a lot to me :””) please let me know if i missed any tags or warnings! and for those who may want to know before reading, this series will have a happy ending <3

Pov: it's gojo's birthday so you surprised him really good <3

tw: suggestive, really suggestive, moodboard

gojo x slightly stripper!reader

divider credit: @anitalenia

JJK men's most sensitive parts of their bodies 😜

MDNI

Satoru Gojo

100% his thighs... When you go down on him and your hair brushes against his inner thighs he cums SO fast.

Suguru Geto

Weirdly his scalp, when you gently play with his hair and scratch his scalp when he's laying on your boobs? Yeah immediate pass out.

Choso Kamo

His nipples. Do I even have to explain? He would literally start whimpering if you rub them.

Ryomen Sukuna

Doesn't have a really "sensitive" spot but he does have pleasure points. Like he loves when you kiss and suck his balls. Like I said it's not really sensitive, more pleasured.

Toji Fushiguro

HIS NECK. he just loves when he comes home from a long day and your lips suck and kiss at his neck, he tries to be tough but he can't hide the sharp, and shaky breaths.

Master list

The air was crisp, cold, lifeless.

Lifeless like the body of Satoru Gojo your husband, love of your life, is just lying in the battlefield. People dragging him away to get his body to use it. Like a fucking weapon.

Seeing a few tears roll down his face as his cursed energy kept him alive for a spilt second. Just watching the life die out of him, wrecks you to your very core.

You didn't even notice the warm drips of water roll down your face, as yours and his students fight Sukuna in the distance.

You might get Megumi back, your basically son but you'll never get over the fact that you won't get your sweet 'Toru back.

What shook you to your knees was seeing a candy rapper on the ground. His favourite.

He must've eaten them before the battle. He loved his sweets. And oh god he loved you.

Hearing screams, you wanna help but you can't because you're frozen, Stuck to the ground as you see his blood stains on the wet dirt.

_

Should I do a full one to this? Such a cute fluff 😋 (sorry y'all)

Master lists

Damn this one gotta lot of likes thanks pooks

MDNI

Master list's

One thing Satoru hates is when you call him "Gojo" not 'Toru or pretty boy. Gojo. When you call him Gojo he knows he's in trouble.

This time it's a really bad punishment. Well to him anyway. "Your on sex ban Gojo!" You yelled. This all started when you saw him talking to another girl.

It was nothing bad just giving her directions, but you took it the wrong way. That's what led to the sex ban.

"Baby pleaseee!" He begs. His cock throbbing. It's been a week, he's been begging so hard. His cock leaking with pre-cum. "Nope." You bluntly say.

Two weeks.

Holy fuck he's going crazy. He bought so many sex toys it could fill up a room. But it doesn't feel good as your pussy, your hands, the ways you use sex toys on him.

"Baby.."

"No."

You already know what he's gonna say. That's all he's talked to you about, well not talked about, more begged.

A couple hours later you're wet, he walked around shirtless with his muscles flexing. Probably his plan. You have been horny yourself though. At least you have the pride to last longer than him.

"Lets do it." You randomly go up to him and say. He quickly runs and picks you up. Instantly understanding, he practically ripped your clothes off. He usually likes to tease you or play with you.

But he can't control himself right now.

That's how you woke up sore, and barely able to move.

"Not my problem you're sore. Your the one who tortured me."

🙌

⯌How JJK Characters Eat Pussy⯌

୨୧・・・・୨୧

MDNI (Obv the title 😙)

Master list's

⯌Sum

How JJK men eat pussy ୧(＾ 〰 ＾)୨

⯌ Wc

Satorus: 2.6k

Tojis: 2k

⯌ Warnings

cullingness (oral), squirting, over stimulation, masturbating, sex toys, cum eating, p → v, degrading, a couple of the boys read your 'books' and ya'll recreate it (not all of them), semi public sex, fingering, the boys are down BAD, some sorta slow burns, breast sucking and pinching

⯌ The men

Satoru Gojo, Toji Fushiguro

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Satoru Gojo

You were out shopping with Satoru's black card, while he got bored alone at home. He went from laying on the bed. To look through your underwear drawer- perv. To looking through your books. You specifically told him no, butttt, he is well- himself, so he looked through the first couple books taking them out of the shelf.

He first pulled out Charlotte's web reading it. Cute. But a little sad. He put it back and saw a series, which seemed to be four books with twisted in front of the words, seemed to be a series. Interesting. He pulled out a book called 'twisted games', he flipped through a few chapters. Seemed to be about a body guard and a princess.

He flipped to a book marked page. Chapter 32. He flipped through a couple pages until he got to a certain spicy scene.

You weren't royal, but you were going to dinner at the Gojo clan, which does have a throne... which would be fucking perfect.

_

Since you were done shopping you needed to be picked up. You sat perched on the bench sitting all cute and pretty. He speeds and slams on the breaks in front of you.

His Lambo (that he loves flexing), is black with baby blue highlights and accents to match his eyes. It is overall extreme.

"Hey pretty girl!" He said in the car running out holding you tight. God he never loses energy. But he's a weirdo, your weirdo. He kissed you all over your face.

He sees your bags from the expensive store you just and takes them from you. He picks you up and opens the back seat of his car and brings you to sit on his lap. He slams the door shut while you sit on his thigh with the shopping bag on the other.

He pulls out a baby pink silky tight spaghetti strap dress. "Ooo, it's pretty, you're wearing this to the restaurant!" He giggles like a child. You don't question it, he is an idiot. But you love him.

"Where will I change?" You question, his tint on the windows were very dark but still some privacy would be nice. "Here, no one would see you pookie, you're fine." You sigh at his childish reply but you let out that annoyed sigh, and he squeals with excitement.

He takes off your shirt, and kisses the top of your breast. He takes off your bra and kisses your cheek, then he starts to slowly and sensually kiss your neck, he takes off your pants and underwear. He kept your heels since he had a thing for them.

He pulls back and pulls some lingerie out of the bag. It was the same baby pink that the dress had. He put it on you, the lace clinging to your skin nicely. Its just a matching bra and panties but he thinks its the hottest thing he's ever seen in his life.

He slides on the silky dress over it and your hair softly falling to your shoulders, it perfectly frames your gorgeous face. He feels like he's gonna explode.

He feels his cock slightly hardening. But he has to go to dinner with the clan, with you.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to focus. He can’t get distracted—not yet. The clan is waiting, and as much as he’d rather keep you to himself, he has to show you off.

"You look so damn good, baby," he murmurs, his hands running down your sides as he pulls you closer. His breath is warm against your cheek, his lips teasing your skin before he finally, reluctantly, leans back. "But if we don’t leave now, I swear I’m not gonna be able to control myself."

You smirk, knowing exactly what you're doing when you adjust yourself on his lap, the silky fabric of your dress shifting just enough to tease him. His grip on your waist tightens. "Pretty, you're playing a dangerous game," he warns, his voice husky, but you just laugh.

"Then let’s go before you lose."

He groans dramatically but lifts you effortlessly, placing you in the passenger seat before grabbing the wheel. The engine roars to life, the deep purr of the Lambo vibrating through your body. He speeds off, his hand already finding its place on your thigh, tracing small circles absentmindedly.

The city lights blur past, neon reflections streaking across the windshield as he races through the streets. His grip tightens every time you shift in your seat, your dress riding up ever so slightly, teasing him further.

"You tryna kill me before we even get there?" he mutters, glancing over with a smirk.

You lean closer, voice soft and teasing. "Just making sure you don’t lose energy before dinner."

His laughter fills the car, bright and carefree. "Oh, baby, you have no idea."

Within minutes, you arrive at the clan house, an exclusive, high-end spot with velvet ropes and a valet already waiting. He parks recklessly, as always, tossing the keys to the stunned valet before stepping around to open your door. He takes your hand, pulling you close, and you can feel the heat in his gaze as his eyes rake over you once more.

"You ready?"

"When am I not?"

With that, he leads you inside, the night just getting started.

The Gojo clan’s estate is grand—almost absurdly so. Ornate chandeliers dangle from high ceilings, the marble floors polished to perfection, reflecting the warm glow of golden lights. The entire place drips with wealth and power, a kingdom in its own right.

Satoru, of course, walks in like he owns the place. Because, well, he basically does. His hand is firm on your lower back, guiding you through the halls with that ever-present cocky smirk.

"Everyone's gonna lose their minds when they see you," he whispers in your ear. "I might have to fight off some admirers."

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest is undeniable.

As soon as you step into the grand dining hall, heads turn. Conversations falter. The Gojo elders, clan members, and high-ranking sorcerers are all seated at the long table, their expressions ranging from curiosity to approval.

One of the elders, a graying man with sharp features, eyes you with intrigue. "Satoru," he says, tone even. "You’ve finally decided to bring someone worthy to dinner."

Satoru just grins. "Of course. Only the best for me."

You feel the weight of their gazes, but you stand tall. This isn’t just a dinner—it’s a test. A silent evaluation. But you won’t give them the satisfaction of intimidation.

Satoru pulls out a chair for you at the head of the table—right next to his own. A power move, you realize. He’s making a statement. You’re not just here as arm candy. You’re here as his equal.

Dinner is a blur of rich food, wine, and idle conversation, but Satoru barely touches his meal. His fingers stay busy—tracing circles on your thigh beneath the table, his grip tightening when you shift just right.

At one point, he leans in, his lips grazing your ear. "You know… there’s a throne in the next room." His voice is pure sin. "Just saying."

Your breath hitches.

You should’ve known. That book—Twisted Games. He read it. And now, he wants to recreate it.

"Satoru," you warn, voice barely above a whisper.

He just chuckles, eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, princess, I always get what I want."

And with that, dinner suddenly feels like the least interesting part of the night.

Well the clan talked business with Gojo he stuck his hand under your dress. He gently massages your pussy gently. He sticks his finger inside curling it just right. Your face flushed as he kept talking business.

You try to keep your expression neutral, focusing on the conversation around you, but Satoru's fingers are relentless. His touch is slow, teasing—just enough to drive you crazy without giving you the satisfaction you need.

Across the table, one of the elders directs a question at him, and he answers smoothly, as if he isn’t up to anything at all. His confidence, his sheer audacity, makes your breath hitch. You grip his wrist under the table in warning, but he only smirks, leaning in close.

"You’re doing so good, princess," he whispers against your ear, his voice laced with amusement. "Looking all innocent while you’re falling apart for me."

Heat floods through you, but you shoot him a glare. Two can play this game.

Slowly, you shift in your seat, pressing your thigh more firmly against his hand, subtly grinding into his touch. His breath hitches just slightly—so quick that no one else would notice, but you do. You smirk, tilting your head toward him, your lips barely brushing his jaw as you whisper, "Careful, Satoru. I don’t think you’d want them to see how desperate you are."

His fingers twitch against you, his restraint thinning. His grip on your thigh tightens before he suddenly withdraws his hand, leaning back in his chair, eyes dark with unspoken promises.

"Just wait until dinner’s over," he murmurs, low and dangerous. "Then we’ll see who’s really in control."

You swallow hard, heart pounding, because the look in his eyes tells you one thing—he's just getting started.

Dinner feels like it stretches on forever. The clan talks business, politics, and the balance of power, but your mind is elsewhere—on the lingering heat of Satoru’s touch, on the way his leg presses against yours beneath the table, on the undeniable promise in his voice.

He’s smug, of course. Acting as if nothing happened, chatting casually with the elders while swirling his wine, but you catch the flicker of impatience in his fingers, the way he taps them against the stem of his glass. He’s biding his time. Waiting.

When dinner finally concludes, the elders begin to rise, exchanging pleasantries as they move toward the lounge for after-meal discussions. Satoru, ever the perfect heir, flashes them a lazy grin, offering vague responses before turning to you.

His hand finds yours. His grip is firm—possessive. "Come with me," he murmurs, tugging you to your feet.

You don’t resist. You already know where this is going.

He leads you through the grand hallways of the estate, past gilded doors and intricate tapestries, until he reaches a particular room. He pushes open the heavy double doors, revealing a dimly lit chamber adorned with deep blues and silvers—a room that screams power and legacy.

And there, at the centre, sits the throne.

Your breath catches.

The seat is grand, carved from dark wood with intricate engravings curling along its arms. A symbol of authority, of dominion.

Satoru steps behind you, his hands sliding over your waist. He leans in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You know," he murmurs, "I think you'd look perfect sitting there."

You turn in his arms, arching a brow. "Is that so?"

His smirk is pure arrogance. "Mm. Thought I’d let you play queen for a bit. Before I remind you who really holds the power."

Your stomach tightens at the dark edge in his voice. He reaches for you again, but this time, you step back, lowering yourself onto the throne deliberately, running your hands along the armrests as if testing your own reign.

Satoru watches you with a hungry gaze, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. "Oh, you’re really pushing it, aren’t you?"

You tilt your chin up, feigning innocence. "I thought you wanted me to play queen."

His laugh is low and dangerous. He steps closer, placing his hands on the armrests, caging you in. His presence is overwhelming, his scent intoxicating.

"Oh, I do," he murmurs, gaze flickering to your lips. "But don’t forget, princess—" He leans down, his breath hot against your skin. "Kings always take what they want."

And just like that, the game shifts.

Satoru’s grip on your waist tightens, and his smirk deepens as he notices the way you’re reacting to him. You feel the weight of his gaze on you, and despite yourself, your heart races, the anticipation almost unbearable.

“Careful, princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “You’re making it so hard for me to keep my hands to myself.” His fingertips graze your skin, sending sparks of warmth everywhere he touches.

You sit there, the throne beneath you feeling both like a pedestal and a prison as Satoru moves closer, the space between you narrowing to almost nothing. His scent—sweet, rich, and intoxicating—fills your senses. You swallow, your pulse quickening.

“You’re always so confident,” you tease, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do you always get what you want?"

Satoru chuckles, the sound warm and dangerous, his hand lifting to touch your cheek. “I don’t just get what I want, baby,” he says, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip, “I take it.” His eyes darken, and you feel the intensity of his gaze like a physical weight.

You can feel the tension between you thickening, the chemistry undeniable. Your pulse races in your ears, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just you, him, and the overwhelming desire that crackles in the air between you.

“Do you want to see just how much I take?” Satoru’s voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a promise.

You meet his gaze, every fiber of your being screaming with anticipation. You shift slightly, your legs spreading just enough to give him an invitation.

Satoru leans in closer, the breath between you shallow and warm. His lips brush against your ear, his voice a deep murmur. "I’m going to make sure you never forget this night, princess."

Your heart skips a beat, and you know, without a doubt, that you’re not getting out of this unscathed. He rips your panties off

"Fuck Satoru there gonna see us!" You whisper angrily. "That's why I'm gonna do this." He shoves your wet panties into your mouth, you grunt with a whine following it as he shoves his tongue in your pussy holding on to your thighs like his life depends on it.

You let out muffled whines as the underwear gets soaked with your saliva. You can still taste your wetness on it which gets you more soaked which really, really, turns him on.

He starts plunging into your hole harder with his tongue to get more of that yummy taste. You start shrieking, your moans bouncing off the walls of the paintings of the elders of the Gojo clan. Practically glaring at you.

You whine as he sucks harsher on your clit, trying to get you to squirt because he is obsessed with your pussy juices.

He whines pathetically as your juices drip down your ass and on to the throne. You squirt and he automatically slurps it up. His slurping bounces off the walls with your muffled moans, he pulls back, your teary eyes flutter open but before you can sit up properly, he pulls out his throbbing, leaking cock, and grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders.

He slams his cock inside your pussy and you yell out your panties falling out of your mouth making your moans and squeals so fucking loud. It makes him cum instantly with a pathetic whine. After a few more thrusts, you squirt with a small scream.

He pulls at and leaves some kisses on your sweaty forehead. Some of his cum dribbles out of your hole. He pulls your panties back up.

"I wanna be clean, your cum is all in my panties..." You whine.

"So? I want you to walk around like the pretty little baby you are, so you know I own you."

୨୧・・・୨୧

Toji Fushiguro

Toji wasn’t used to this—being alone, being needy. But damn it, he was.

He laid on the couch, one arm draped over his face, exhaling sharply. The apartment felt too quiet without you. Usually, you’d be here—curled up beside him, your soft hands tracing absentminded patterns over his chest, your scent lingering in the air.

But now? Just silence. And he hated it.

He scoffed at himself, rubbing a hand over his face. Since when did he get this pathetic? Since when did he miss someone this much? He should be out, distracting himself, doing anything—but instead, he was checking his phone every ten minutes, waiting for a damn text.

With a groan, he rolled over, grabbing your pillow and burying his face in it. It still smelled like you. Fuck.

He’d never admit it, but yeah—Toji Fushiguro was needy for you. And the second you walked through that door? You weren’t getting a moment to yourself.

Toji let out a low, frustrated groan, rolling onto his back as he stared at the ceiling. His hand rested over his stomach, fingers twitching slightly. It had been hours since you left, and his body was reacting in ways he really didn’t want to deal with alone.

The scent of your perfume on the pillow, the memory of your soft body against his just last night—it was messing with him. Badly. His jaw clenched as he exhaled, adjusting his position, but that only made things worse. His sweatpants were too tight now, his body betraying him, aching for you in a way that made his patience snap.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. He could call you, tell you to get back here now—but he knew you’d just tease him, drag it out, make him suffer. And normally, he’d enjoy that little game. But right now? Right now, he was desperate.

His fingers flexed at his side as he let out a slow, irritated breath.

Toji groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair as he glared at his phone. His patience was wearing dangerously thin.

"Yeah, I need you to hurry the hell up."

Your reply was instant.

"Chill, I’m almost done. What’s your problem?"

He scoffed, shifting against the couch. His problem? You. You were his damn problem.

"You left me here to suffer, that’s my problem."

There was a pause. Then—

"Oh my god, are you seriously being needy right now?"

Toji let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. Needy? That didn’t even begin to cover it.

"You have no fucking idea. Get home. Now."

Another pause. Then your reply popped up.

"…Or what?"

That did it. If you were gonna play games, he’d make sure you knew exactly what you were in for.

He angled his phone, letting the camera capture the sight of his hand wrapped around his cock—thick, hard, aching for you. He was already leaking, his grip tight as he stroked himself slow, teasing.

Then he snapped the picture.

Sent.

Less than a minute later, your typing bubble appeared—then stopped. Then started again.

"Toji."

He smirked, lazily dragging his hand up and down.

"You started this, baby. Better finish shopping fast."

No response.

Toji chuckled darkly, gripping himself tighter.

"That’s what I thought."

Toji leaned back against the couch, smirking at the silence on your end. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

His phone vibrated.

"You’re such a menace."

He chuckled, his hand still lazily stroking himself, teasing his own patience.

"And you love it."

Another pause. He could practically see you standing frozen in the middle of the grocery store, gripping the cart with shaky hands.

"Toji, I swear to god, I’m in public."

He grinned, eyes dark with amusement.

"And?"

"You’re impossible."

"You’re still standing there texting me instead of checking out, so I think you like this, sweetheart."

Three dots. Then they disappeared.

Toji groaned, tossing his head back. "Tch. Tease."

He gripped himself tighter, his mind already wandering—picturing the way you’d react when you walked through that door. How he’d have you pressed against it before you even put the damn groceries down.

Another message popped up.

"I’m driving home. Be naked when I get there."

Toji smirked.

"Oh, baby, you have no idea what you just signed up for."

The front door barely had time to shut before Toji was on you.

You let out a startled gasp as your back hit the wood, groceries completely forgotten at your feet. His hands were already on you—gripping your waist, tugging you closer, his body burning against yours.

"You took too damn long," he growled against your neck, his teeth scraping along your skin.

"I was literally gone for an hour, Toji—"

"Too long," he repeated, his tone dark, impatient. His hands roamed, fingers digging into your hips as he pressed himself against you, letting you feel just how hard he still was.

Your breath hitched. "You—You seriously stayed like this the whole time?"

He chuckled, low and dangerous. "Baby, you think I could jerk off and be satisfied when I knew you were coming home to me?" His lips trailed down your jaw, his breath hot against your ear. "Nah, I needed this. Needed you."

Your hands gripped his shoulders, trying to steady yourself as his lips moved down, pressing against the sensitive skin of your throat. "Toji…"

He smirked, tilting your chin up with two fingers. "What?" His green eyes were dark, filled with something hungry. "You told me to be naked when you got here. Thought you wanted this, sweetheart."

You swallowed hard, heat pooling low in your stomach as his hands slid lower.

"I do."

"Good." His lips curled into a smirk. "Then let’s make up for lost time."

Toji didn’t give you a chance to argue. He carried you effortlessly, his grip firm as he walked past the abandoned groceries, straight to the bedroom.

"Toji—"

"Shhh, baby," he smirked, kicking the door shut behind him. "You made me wait long enough."

He tossed you onto the bed, and before you could even adjust, he was on you—hovering, his massive frame caging you in. His dark green eyes roamed over you hungrily as his fingers slid beneath the hem of your shirt, pushing it up, exposing more of your skin.

"Fuck," he muttered, dragging his calloused fingers over your stomach. "Missed this."

"You saw me this morning," you teased, but your breath hitched when he leaned down, lips brushing against your skin.

"Not like this," he murmured against your stomach, voice thick with want. His hands gripped your hips, pinning you in place as he trailed kisses lower, his hot breath making your skin tingle.

Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging slightly, and he groaned, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Fuck, baby." He glanced up at you, his smirk dark and full of promise. "Hope you didn’t make any other plans for the night."

Your heart pounded as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down slowly.

"Because I’m not letting you out of this bed anytime soon."

Toji’s smirk deepened as he hovered over you, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns along your waist. His touch was teasing, his calloused hands warm against your skin.

“Missed you,” he muttered, voice rough with need. His lips ghosted over your collarbone, lingering just enough to make you shiver.

“You act like I was gone for days,” you teased, though your breath hitched when he nipped at your skin.

“Felt like it,” he murmured, pressing kisses along your jaw before tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark with hunger, but there was something softer underneath—something possessive, desperate.

His hands roamed lower, gripping your thighs as he settled between them. “You kept me waiting, baby. Think you need to make it up to me.”

His voice was playful, but the way his fingers dug into your hips told you he wasn’t joking.

You swallowed hard, your body reacting to the weight of his gaze. “And how exactly do I do that?”

His lips curved into a slow, wicked grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got a few ideas.”

He leaned in, pressing you further into the mattress, his breath hot against your ear. “And we’ve got all night.”

Toji’s smirk lingered as he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His grip on your hips tightened, his rough fingers pressing into your skin like he was grounding himself—like he’d been waiting all day just to have you close.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he muttered, voice low and husky.

You bit your lip, pretending to think. “Mmm, I don’t know, Toji. You seemed pretty occupied earlier.”

His expression darkened with amusement, and he let out a low chuckle. “Oh yeah?” His hand trailed up your thigh, deliberate and slow. “Was that before or after I was falling apart on the phone for you?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you remembered the message he’d sent, the way his voice had sounded so wrecked over the call.

He tilted your chin up, making sure your eyes stayed locked on his. “Drive me crazy like that again, baby, and I swear I won’t be so patient next time.”

You shivered at the promise laced in his tone.

His lips brushed against yours—barely a kiss, just enough to make you chase after him. His grin widened at your reaction. “Cute.”

“Toji—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, finally closing the distance, kissing you slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world to make up for the hours you’d been gone.

And judging by the way he was holding you, he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

He takes off your clothes fully since he's needy, naked, and fucking hard and leaking. You know he's suffering so he teases him a bit and grabs his cock and jerk it a bit.

He absolutely loses it.

He slams you to the bed slamming his long cock in you with long quick strokes. You choke on your own saliva. His cock hitting your cervix with every quick thrust.

It feels so fucking good that you can't even feel your legs, god, his thick cock veins hitting your sweet spots his sensitive tip bruising your cervix you couldn't think it could get better, until his finger started rubbing fast circles on your clit.

You shriek, about to get yet another noise complaint and orgasm but he cums inside and pulls out when you were on the brink.

"Toji what the hell?" You whine out. He smiles and pushes his cum back inside of you with his finger. "I was about to cum..." You say in a quiet whine.

He ties you up to the bed post your legs and arms spread apart. He's in between your legs leaving hickeys up your thighs he leaves a slow lick up your slit from your cum oozing hole to your clit slightly suckling on it. You try to squirm from your restraints but you can't so you just whimper and beg.

He grins, and whispers. "It's okay baby."

From soft sucks and licks, he suddenly starts aggressively sucking and groaning. He goes from tongue fucking, to clit sucking and its driving you crazy. You try to close your legs but you can't and you holler out with tears rolling down your face.

Your juices drip down his face, but that doesn't stop him. It only encourages him to get more excited, so he licks and suckles harder. You bawl your eyes out and and shake and you so badly want to close your legs.

It feels so good you have at least came 5 times. He had to make you come one last time. He kissed gently your thighs as his fingers work out your orgasm.

_

After all of that he pulls you into his arms. Tight. Kissing your forehead then slowly moved to your lips leaving a peck. You can taste your self on his lips but your too tired and over stimulated to do anything.

He suddenly breaks the silence. "My little squirter."

"Toji-!"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

JJK fav positions!

MDNI

Master lists

Gojo

He loves a good missionary. But to be honest you love it too. He loves looking into your eyes, the way they flutter shut. He likes to make you look at him when you cum. He thinks it's so hot.

Geto

He loves you to pull at his hair. What's the best way to have you do so? Ride him. How would that work? When you ride his cock you lean over so he can suck at your tits as you pull at his hair.

Toji

Doggy. Do I have to explain myself? He likes to see that ass jiggle when his hips hit it.

Choso

He loves a good comfy 69. Gripping your thighs while his head is in between your thighs sucking your clit like a baby, while his cock is hard inside your snug, warm throat. He loves it.

Riding whatever jjk man you want in the car? Honestly, the meaner the better.

Oh God I'm drooling already 🤤

Kisses ❤️

Okiee btw i LOVE all your ideas ❤ (please marry me 😁)

MDNI

Master list's

⯌ Sum

Riding jjk men in the car 👄😆(◕દ◕)

⯌Warnings

Fem!reader, dom boys, customized sex toys, money spending (ofc), Satoru sitting beside you and suguru while ya'll fuck but for like a second, edging, clit stim, teasing, degradation, Breeding Kink, Overstimulation, semi-public sex, Degradation, Name-calling, kinda forced crawling, Power Imbalance, Spanking (A shit ton of ass spanking in Suguru's), Cockwarming, begging, Praise Kink, breeding kink, Possessiveness

⯌ The men

Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro

A\N:

Lowkey made Toji a biker man and fucked you on his bike. i honestly don't think he'd own or afford a car. Its hot anyway 😍

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Satoru Gojo /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\

He'd always spoil his favourite girl. Buttt- he does always spoil himself too. I mean he is rich, so why not. So he has a nice car. Black Ferrari with blue accents. Leather seats.

Black tint.

There are a few reasons why it's fully black and you can't see through it. One being just in case there's a need to change clothes (happened before), number two, cops- he doesn't like to talk about why.

Three.

Making his pretty girl feel special, to fog up the windows, to make jaw dropping pleasure and shaky, loud breaths. And fuck you raw while your tied up or blindfolded with his blindfold of course.

That is his favourite part of having tint.

You were obviously shopping (with his black card), and he made Ijichi drive you both around today. So he could... have some fun. He made sure to get the limo not his lambo so it has the screen to separate the back to the drivers seat.

And a sound barrier.

He needs his perfect pretty girl to scream and cry.

In a good way of course.

He pulled up to the front doors of the wall and you came running out with bags and a ring with his initials, to make everyone know your his.

You have a big smile on your face and he grins coming out of the limo and takes your bags and holds you in his arms and kisses all over your face.

He brings you into the car and closes the screen. Making sure Igichi would not see his girl or more hear his girl. Your moans are made by him and owned by him.

With his money he got a special toy for you. As Igichi drives you're sitting on his lap as he's bouncing his knee bouncing you a bit.

This sex toy was a very small measured (he sent you clit measurements for the place) suction for the clit. It also vibrates and has a small nub thing that rubs on the inside. So it's super stimulating.

He got a key with a box. Is to put the remote in the box pull up your panties with the toy on and lock it in the box and throw the key and make you crawl in the moving car for it.

He starts his plan.

Instead of foreplay... he decided different.

"Strip."

You turn around on his lap with your jaw gaped open. "Toru-"

"Did I fucking stutter?"

You slowly take off your clothes, you know there is no way of getting out of this. You never have. You're left in your panties and bra. He unclasped your bra and you let out a whimper when he puts your nipple in his mouth.

His warm mouth warmed your tit making some feeling that only he can make you feel, no other man made you feel like this so sexy, so pleased. He moaned into tit as you bat your long lashes at him staring at him like he's the most beautiful man ever (he is). It just made his cock throb.

He slides off your panties sucking on your neck as he rubs your folds. He lightly brushes by your clit discreetly putting the toy on your clit. He quickly turned the toy on and you gasped as he threw the remote in the small box and locked it and threw the key across the car.

"Satoru!" You cry out. "What the f-" You got cut off as the vibrations knocked up a notch and he grinned. You crawl on the floor looking for the key as he slides your panties up so it's harder for you to take it off.

"Toru! Please get the remote." You beg as you shake on the floor as it suctions, vibrates and rubs. "Find the key pretty." He bluntly says. You are absolutely shocked. "Satoru, what the hell!?" You try to keep being mad but it feels so good.

You crawl on the floor like a little slut, his little slut, and he grins pouring himself a glass a wine with a smile. He sat all there distinguished in a tie and suit while your crawling on the floor mascara running down you face and in pretty pink panties.

He chuckles and continues sipping his whine. He leaned over and smacked your ass to make you whine out because that's favourite sound and it's fucking music to his ears.

You find the key and crawl back on the seats and shakily unlock the box taking out the remote. Before you clicked the off button Satoru took it back.

"Make me cum and then I'll turn it off..."

"Satoru! Please..." You whine, begging for this overstimulation to stop. "You have a safe word pretty girl. If you want me to stop that bad, I would, you know that."

He grabs your hands and sits you on his lap pulling your panties back down. He pulls out his cock and pumps it a few times before he slowly sinks you on it.

He throws his head back sexily, showing his long slender neck. God that just made you tighten around him. You slowly start to move up and down on his cock.

God the way he smiled it just made you bounce faster.

"Faster."

He slapped your ass again making you ride him faster. He cums inside, you're quite thankful for your birth control or you would be extremely pregnant right now especially the fact that Gojo hates condoms.

He stops the vibrations after you squeeze around him and cum. His dick is sensitive so he pulls you off of him and kisses your sweaty forehead.

He helps you get dressed and kisses your forehead.

"Such a good girl for me..."

Suguru Geto ♡(> ਊ <)♡

One thing Suguru does not give a shit about is where he fucks you. He would of course not do it somewhere you don't want but to him? He doesn't care.

So that's how you ended up taking his cock in the passenger seat while his best friend Satoru is watching you both driving.

"Damn calm down Suguru your gonna break her-"

"Keep your eyes on the fucking road and don't speak or look at her she's mine dumbass." Suguru groaned as he bounced you more on his cock.

Satoru chuckled and pulled over to the side of the road. "I ain't watching this shit anymore." He gets out of the car and walks down the road.

Suguru doesn't care where he's going he's too focused on how good your pussy's sucking him up and taking him.

"F-Fucker." You hollered as his tip bruised your cervix. Wrapping around him like a vice. "You're so tight- shit."

He refuses to be fully dominated so he shakily runs a hand down down your body and he rubs quick circles on your clit.

You move quicker chasing your orgasm before he takes his hand away leaving the burning feeling in your stomach as he stops you from moving too.

"P-Please don't stop, Sugu, it hurts!" Tears pricked at your eyes as he slapped your ass as he continued to cockwarm him.

His tip was pushing against your g-spot so that didn't make it any better. It was so hot and sweaty and cramped in there all you wanted to do was cling to him.

He kissed your forehead and you moaned from his touch alone. God this man was breath taking.

"Beg."

Your eyes widen as that one word escapes his mouth. "W-What?" You stutter out still sensitive from everything. "Did I fucking stutter?" He looks you dead in the eyes with a cold serious stare. But that mean grin just got you wetter.

At this point you had to beg.

"Please Sat- I mean Sugu." You accidentally almost said Satoru. You're too cock drunk to know the difference. His eyes filled up with something you've never seen in him.

He grabbed your hair and pulled your face closer to him. "Your gonna fucking take something before you get my cock. But you're gonna sit here on my cock with no movement. Such a bad girl."

He turned you around on him with his cock still inside so your ass is facing him. You grab on to the dashboard as you feel his hot breath on your neck.

You know you're in trouble.

He lands a hand to your ass causing a pleasurable sting. He keeps hitting till your ass was cherry red. Tears roll down your face from the pain but then again it's Suguru so you don't have much say.

He starts to feel a little bad and rubs your ass, gently kissing your neck. He turns you back around and kisses your lips. He starts to bounce you on his cock.

The pleasureful burn in your stomach reappears. You let out a small moan at his thick cock hitting spots that only he can reach. Instead of stopping he continues.

He rubs your clit extremely fast once more making you bounce harder and at this point your moans turned into screams.

You finally cum in unison with him. His cum warming your walls as your squirt drips down on his cock.

He pulls you off of him as you sit on his lap wincing at the burn on your ass.

You instantly fall asleep.

He dresses you and holds you on his lap holding you close kissing your forehead.

He looked up and saw Satoru in the bushes with his cock in his hand grinning at him when they made eye contact.

"For fucks sake-"

Toji Fushiguro ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

It was late at night, the air was crisp and cold. You're walking around a parking garage trying to find your boyfriend- Toji.

You quickly found him standing by his motorcycle with one of compression shirts and his grey sweats.

He gives you a tight hug. "Hey pretty." He says in his deep enveloping voice that send shivers down your spine.

His musky scent makes all your senses water. God this man was fucking perfect. All though to him he's nothing. He swears you're the most gorgeous, perfect thing in the universe.

But you always remind him that he's perfect too. Reminding him of that, maybe being cuddles, compliments, or something like that. But his personal favourite is your special compliments to his dick.

God that makes his ego spike over the roof.

"I need some support baby, I'm not feeling 100%..." He said in a sappy tone. You were about to get sappy for him but then...

It hit you. He never would get all corny like this unless it was for sex. But you decide to humour him anyway.

"Oh no baby? What's wrong?" You say in an obvious sarcastic tone. "Something wrong down here?" You pat his crotch and he jolts with that handsome smirk of his.

He holds you close. "Maybe I do." He says in that tone of his that makes your thighs clench and your panties wet, no soaked.

He flipped up your skirt up and pulled your panties to the side making you bend over on his bike.

"Toji we are in fucking public!" You hissed at him quietly. There weren't many people around but still there might be cameras or people since it's a fucking parking garage.

He took out his cock and slapped his cock against your folds and swiped it making sure it's soaked with your juices. Making sure it's lubed enough because he is quite big and he would never want to hurt his pretty girl.

He slowly pushed it making you grab on to his bike and squeeze your eyes shut at the immaculate stretch.

"Y-Your so big..." Fat tears rolled down your face as he began snapping his hips, his tip hitting your cervix and his thick veins massaging all your sweet spots.

You finish on him and he cums inside, massive fucking amounts of it.

He pulls out fingering the cum back inside before he sits on his bike. He pulls you on his lap and bounces you on his cock.

"What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn't make you come not once but twice."

There you were riding his cock, feeling so fucking good. You didn't care about being caught anymore, all you cared about was how good all of this felt.

His happy trail was scratching against your clit and it made you whine out and he grabbed the plush of your ass helping you move up and down faster.

You finally squirted with one of your squeals and your walls gripping his cock all so nicely he came too.

You were so stuffed with his cum it was dripping out.

He stood up and pulled your panties back up and your skirt back down and not scrunched around your hips.

"It's messy..." You whined into his ear with a pout and he kissed it because how cute it was.

"Good because you belong to me sweet girl, never forget that. And this is a good way to make sure you feel it too."

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Ya'll this was in my drafts i forgot to finish it sryyy but now it's done <3 😭

Master lists

♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩

JJK Master list

Demon slayer Master list

More coming soon!

♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩

I think we can all agree Satoru is so nice usually. But I think I NEED mean Satoru. He absolutely makes fun of you when you inevitably can't take all the dick he gives you, especially if you're folded up into like, mating press. Just calling you dirty names.

I'm fucking drooling holy lord

IM TWEAKING THAT IS SO YUMMY ISTG

I fucking love your ideas ilysm 😩 btw this one is kinda short i'm still sick but if you want a longer version just ask i'll make one ( ˘ ³˘)♥

୨୧・・・・୨୧

MDNI

Master list's

⯌ Sum

Mean Satoru Gojo (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

⯌ Wc

0.7k

it's really short but it's all mostly smut

⯌Warnings

Mean!Satoru, Fem!reader, Degradation, Humiliation. Overestimation, Edging, Bondage, Restraints, Impact Play (pussy spanking), Cervix bruising, bruising, brief mention of rope burn, Degradation & Humiliation, some aftercare, kinda kinky, breast playing, mating presses, eagle spread, vibrator that suctions, clit stim

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Satoru Gojo is one of the kindest and sweetest boyfriends you ever had. He would buy you everything you want and kiss you so gently it feels like an angel's kiss. One thing no one has ever expected was him to be so cruel when you both are having sex.

All your friends talked and gossiped about how "He'd just give you vanilla sex nothing that feels good.", "Orgasmless sex.", and "He's tall but probably a small dick." They chuckled and giggled about there own comments.

Little did you know when you joked about what they said about Satoru to him. He decided to prove them absolutely wrong.

_

"Toru! Fuck!" You whine as he slams his big cock inside you in the tightest mating press. His hips snapping wildly like he was so fucking desperate to make you and him cum he was about to cry from over stimulation but he doesn't fucking care.

You tried to move away from overstimulation since he's been edging you but his hips snapping and his hands gripping your shoulders making sure you can't move away.

All you can do is holler and squeal and beg for mercy. Obviously he doesn't. He pulled out for a second and you thought it was over so you let out a sigh of relief before you heard a buzz. Your eyes shot open and you squirm. He ties your wrists and legs bound to the bed post in a eagle spread.

Your nipples perked in the air with arousal your stomach moves up and down with harsh breaths. You let out a shaky breath as he puts the pink vibrator on your clit. It suctions with a click of a button and you yelp as the buzzing gets stronger and more stimulating.

"Your such a fucking slut. Talking about me with your friends, agreeing about these insults. One of those insults maybe being... orgasm-less sex hmm..?" He snarls at you raises the vibrations a notch.

"S-Satoru please I was joking!" You begged and hollered. You know there's no point. He's too pissed off to stop. "I don't fucking care Y/N. You're getting what you said I give you- or what i don't give you. Being a bad girl means no orgasms."

He shoves his fingers inside your pussy pushing against your sweet spot and you were on the brink before he takes the vibrator off while it was still suctioning so it caused a little sting and you whined.

He unties your legs but not your arms so you can't leave or stop him. Your legs shut close fast. "I swear to god Y/N stop closing your fucking legs. I undid them to put you in another position you slut. So keep your legs open." He snarls meanly at you but for some reason it got you more wet.

He put you into a mating press again, his dick hitting parts of you only he can hit. You holler and moan sweet music for his ears. He crushingly hits your cervix. It hurts so good you're at the brink of screaming. His hips snapped at this point both of your hips are bruised.

He grabs your tits aggressively. Tweaking your nipples. Your voice was hoarse from your screams so your moans were more quiet as fat tears dropped down your face. "Fucking slut."

He slapped your pussy, hard. He kept smacking as his thrusts got more bruising. Your cervix is at the point of bleeding. You do have a safe word but fuck it feels too good to stop.

"Y-Your so b-big 'Toru." You whine your eyes squeezed shut. "You can't take it? I thought you were my personal whore hm? My little slut can't even take my own dick." he grins meanly with an evil grin. He decides to take some mercy on you but with a price.

"I'll let you cum if you are a good girl and be quiet no moaning? Hm? Show how obedient you are?" He says wanting power over you. You nod frantically wanting him so bad you don't care what he says anymore.

His hips snap faster and you finally cum on his cock holding in your screams letting out cute noises as his hips don't stop moving crazy fast. He moves a hand down rubbing your clit prolonging your pain of trying to be quiet but the pleasure unknotting from your stomach your pussy feeling good with thrusts and rubs. It's so worth it.

He finally pulls out and unties your wrists kissing the rope burn marks gingerly pulling you close.

"Still gonna joke and make fun of me?"

Maybe you will, maybe just maybe, you want that all again.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Sorry ya'll it's kinda short 😖

JJK men's dick sizes ♡

MDNI

Master Lists

Gojo:

Solid 7.5 inches. He's more on the slimmer side with a slight curve with a pinkish tip with some faint veins. Trimmed but some on his base and yes the curtains match the drapes. Over all very pale and pretty. It could hit deep good spots and sometimes makes tummy bulges depending on the position and he squeals when that happens. His dick is VERY sensitive. He has a baby pink tip, #f78686.

Overall 9/10 dick

Geto:

He's on the shorter but thicker side, much vainer. Solid 6.0 inches but VERY girthy. He hit's sweet spots you didn't know existed. His pubes are very bushy he trims it once and a while but his blacky bush is still pretty. He has more prominent veins then Gojo too. He isn't too sensitive but sometimes if you brush by the right area he yelps. He's more tanned than pale and his tip colour is on the darker side but still pretty, #d93030.

10/10 dick yummy

Toji:

This man IS THICK AND LONG. 9.0 inches No trimming and he likes the bush and has a sexy ass happy trail and bulging veins when hard, that you can feel pulsing inside of you. Instant orgasm material. His tip is quite sensitive considering how much it leaks when he is hard and how red it gets. His tip is a darker red, #8f0e0e.

12/10 god spoken cock istg

Choso:

Slimmer but long he can hit deeper spots but isn't as girthy. But he does have the prettiest dick besides Gojo. 7.0 inches. He isn't too vainy but he definitely has some every here and there. He keeps it trimmed with only some short hairs and they are more brown. He has a slight happy trail and his WHOLE dick is sensitive and twitchy. He has a VERY pink tip, #de64a1.

10/10 very pretty and nice 😚

Thank you everyone for the support!

I've been sick but @mzmalice3 thanks for being patient i'm posting your requests soon!

Bye lovelies! ( ˘ ³˘)♥

MDNI

Master list's

One thing Satoru hates is when you call him "Gojo" not 'Toru or pretty boy. Gojo. When you call him Gojo he knows he's in trouble.

This time it's a really bad punishment. Well to him anyway. "Your on sex ban Gojo!" You yelled. This all started when you saw him talking to another girl.

It was nothing bad just giving her directions, but you took it the wrong way. That's what led to the sex ban.

"Baby pleaseee!" He begs. His cock throbbing. It's been a week, he's been begging so hard. His cock leaking with pre-cum. "Nope." You bluntly say.

Two weeks.

Holy fuck he's going crazy. He bought so many sex toys it could fill up a room. But it doesn't feel good as your pussy, your hands, the ways you use sex toys on him.

"Baby.."

"No."

You already know what he's gonna say. That's all he's talked to you about, well not talked about, more begged.

A couple hours later you're wet, he walked around shirtless with his muscles flexing. Probably his plan. You have been horny yourself though. At least you have the pride to last longer than him.

"Lets do it." You randomly go up to him and say. He quickly runs and picks you up. Instantly understanding, he practically ripped your clothes off. He usually likes to tease you or play with you.

But he can't control himself right now.

That's how you woke up sore, and barely able to move.

"Not my problem you're sore. Your the one who tortured me."

Hey kiddos

Tell me anything you want me to write 👄

you can do requests and i'll do them <3

Can I have your thoughts on sexual tension with jjk men? Like the kind where you both want each other and can't do anything about it?

Kisses ❤️❤️

Yeah of course! If this isn't what you mean by what you want I'll redo it don't worry it's no biggie! I'd rather you say something and I PROMISE i will re-do it! ♥️🫵

Master list's

MDNI

Satoru Gojo:

You and Satoru were out shopping for lingerie (he made you), but he wanted to help his girl feel pretty in his defence. You both walk into the store and look around and see a very nice set. Baby blue. You can already tell he's rock hard. "Should I try these on baby?" You ask teasingly. "Yeah." He bluntly says. He wants to drag you into that changing room and fuck the shit out of you while you wear that- until you and him are soaked with sweat cum and tears. But the door is a curtain and there's a worker right beside it. So you really can't get frisky. He groans when you tell him no but you try it on and walk out to show him, since it was just girls out there. He made sure no men were there.

You honestly just gave him a bigger boner and a raging emotion he's never felt. Neediness, wanting, horny... He wants you so bad. You're so getting it when you get home just make sure you have your soul after that. He wants to fuck that out too.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Megumi Fushiguro

You were sitting beside him listening to Gojo yap to the classroom about reverse technique and blabbering about how awesome and hot he is, which was slightly annoying but everyone learned to tune him out. "He's an idiot." Megumi mumbled like the grump he is. He was mindlessly rubbing your thigh gently under the table. But you were ovulating and this was just getting you fucking wet. And he was hotter than usual, I mean he was always hot- yeah he is. Your mind was squirming with thoughts and you were soaked at this point. He noticed that your face was flushed and he did a small grin. "What's wrong baby." He mumbles into your ear. You take a sharp inhale of breath and he moves his hand higher playing with your panties feeling the wet spot. He randomly pulls hand away and whispers.

"Princess, you're gonna have to wait."

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Nanami Kento

Nanami has the prettiest little secretary. You. He loves those short skirts and tight dress shirts that drive him crazy. When you sit in the corner of the room in his office with that lollipop in your mouth sucking it, he just wishes that it's his cock in your mouth. He swears you do it on purpose sometimes! It drives him absolutely wild. Short tight outfits, sucking and smirking, ain't even the worst thing. It's the fact that you have stripped in his office to change from your clothes to your work outfit. He's never seen you change but he finds the evidence. Your wet pretty pink lacy panties with a bow in the front and a matching bra and he jerks off to your underwear and stuffs the bra in his mouth so he's not loud. He really wishes he was sucking the thing the bra was holding (your tits) not the bra. He thinks he might go mad.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Toji Fushiguro

You recently got a book. It had a gun scene, where she got gun fucked by her man, and fuck Toji has a gun. And that's for some reason a turn on for you. Your ovulation time makes you extra horny. And just seeing Toji makes you aroused. He is one fine man and god you can stare at him for hours. He comes home holding his gun from his last shoot out and his muscles compressed in that tight shirt of his. God damn. You looked him up and down imagining his gun rubbing your clit rubbing up down your slit going inside, teasing you with it. He sees you checking him out, wanting something. He knows.

He waves his gun in the air.

"You want somethin' doll?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Choso Kamo

The air in the crowded space felt stifling, but it had nothing to do with the people around you and everything to do with him. Choso stood close—too close—his body angled just enough that only you could feel the heat radiating off him. His fingers barely skimmed the small of your back, an innocent touch to anyone watching, but the way his knuckles brushed against your skin sent a sharp thrill through you. He didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned in, his lips hovering just beside your ear, his voice low and deliberate.

“You keep pressing into me like that,” he murmured, “Are you testing me… or do you want me to break?” His breath was warm, teasing, as his fingertips traced the faintest pattern against your side before retreating—just enough to make you crave the contact again. The weight of his gaze dragged over your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes, dark and unreadable, but the tension between you was undeniable. It was a game now—one neither of you seemed willing to lose.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Suguru Geto

You've been walking around in a bra, all day...

Suguru's fingertips brushed against your jaw, barely there, yet enough to set your skin ablaze. His smirk was lazy, almost amused, but the sharp glint in his eyes told a different story—one of restraint, of something simmering just beneath the surface. "You're making this difficult," he murmured, his voice smooth, dark, laced with amusement and something more dangerous. His breath fanned against your lips, the space between you shrinking with every passing second. "Tell me," he mused, tilting his head ever so slightly, "are you going to keep teasing me, or do you want me to ruin you?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Toge Inumaki

One thing for Toge is that he can't talk normally without hurting himself because of his cursed technique. So he uses physical touch. He'll pinch your sides, snuggle you, tickle you, stuff like that.

Right now he's gently kissing your face on his dorm bed running his hands up and down you. You both never went past making out. But the tension between you two is so strong. He decides to use his cursed technique.

"Undress."

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Yuji Itadori

Yuji was playing with Megumi's demon dogs scratching their bellies. You couldn't help but notice how long his fingers are and how nice they curl. You gulp and look away but being the observant man he is, he looked back and noticed your flushed face. "Y/N what's the matter?" He said in a curious but overall cheerful tone.

He notices you zoned out and staring at his fingers before you blink back to reality. "Oh nothing, nothing." He grinned and wiggled is fingers.

"Oh?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Comment if you want a longer version of these!

୨୧Master List୨୧

JJK!

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Satoru Gojo

Im pegging that man at the back of the bus -smut

Mean Satoru - smut

Sex ban- smut

Lifeless... - angst no comfort

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Choso Kamo

Finding Nemo - fluff

Sensitive boy - smut

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Toji Fushiguro

Aftercare - smut + fluff

Sexual tension - smut

Road Head - smut

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Nanami Kento

Cock warming during work hours? - smut

Villian!Nanami - smut

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Suguru Geto

Stoner best friend Suguru- smut

Plug Suguru - smut

Cuddle fucking - fluffy smut

Porn star - smut

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Ryomen Sukuna

Virginity - Smut and fluff

Cuddly Sukuna! - fluff

After taking your virginity - smut

Pervydoctor!sukuna - smut

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Takuma Ino

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Toge Inumaki

Sweet spot - smut

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Megumi Fushiguro

"Wheres the ring?" - fluff

Valentines Day - smut + fluff

Ate out! - smut

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Multi-character

How JJK men eat pussy

Ridding JJK men! - smut

Sexual tension - smut

Shiu helps you and Toji fuck? Hell yeah - smut

Head counts! - smut

JJK Characters twitter links prt. 1

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Headcannons

JJK men dick sizes?- smut

Fav positions - Smut

Most sensitive parts of jjk men -smut

Comment what ya'll want me to write next! Like smut or fluff on a certain jjk character. Just tell me! Thanks pookies! ୧(＾ 〰 ＾)୨

I'm peggin that man at the back of the bus

୨୧・・・・୨୧

MDNI - Smut

Master list's

⯌ Sum

Lingerie shopping turns into a 'phone call' with pictures, then you're hitting that 69 position and you have a idea... peggin your sub!satoru

╰(＾3＾)╯

⯌ Wc

1217k

(sorry not a lot)

⯌ Warnings

fem!reader, sub!satoru, MOSTLY SMUT (◕ᴗ◕✿), a bit of teasing, 69, anal, pegging, whining, oral (male and fem), smut, over stimulation, jerking him off, masturbation, lingerie, so he good tears uppp, spanks, dirty talk, squirting, nudes, pet names, manhandling, vibrator, some cum play, strap on (duh), nervousness, phone sex, pant bulge, comfort, fluff, aftercare, cuddles <3

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Satoru was in a cranky mood, being the dramatic ass he is, you were late. On a struggle sum mission but obviously he thought you were cheating on him. He calls you as you answer he mumbles into the mic.

"Where the hell are you?!" He grunts into the mic trying to be tough- he really isn't. He sounds more whiny and bitchy then dominant.

You laugh slightly. "I'm at the store 'Toru. I just ended the mission, so I just ran too the store. So stop being dramatic and just wait like a normal person."

You send a picture of yourself in a Victoria's Secret. Buying the colour- his favourite colour- his eye colour, lingerie set. Your wearing it in the changing room standing in front of the mirror your back arching slightly sitting on the bench with your legs crossed.

"Fuck." He groans in the mic. He has totally forgotten about why he called in the first place. The only thing he feels or thinks about at the moment is the heat between his legs. His blood rushing to his cock and his pants were beginning to get tight. A prominent bulge in his grey sweats.

"Send more sweets?" He asked like a question, but it's more of a demand. "Hmm beg for it." You say smuggly. He lets out a huff and groan.

The strongest sorcerer begging?!

But fuck, he really needed some help with the 'issue'.

"Please baby? Pleaseee..." He begs with little whines as he slowly strokes his cock to the only picture you sent. You hang up so you don't get caught and send him another one with a sentence attached. "Stop touching yourself I'm coming home soon just buying it."

He feels mixed emotions- your coming home and with new lingerie as soon as you come home he's ripping it to shreds.

But the closest Victoria's Secret is 40 minutes away.

40 fucking minutes with a throbbing hard boner.

He pulls his pants and boxers back up with a little shake. He was fucking horny it hurt so bad. He turned on the TV flipping to a channel trying to get distracted. But of course he sees a sex scene 2nd channel he flips to. His crotch area on his sweat pants get wet with pre-cum and he gets so hard it hurts. He swears he's never been this hard in his life. It started to sting his bulge more prominent than ever.

It has been at least an hour and you're not back. Maybe because you went to another store. Presumably to get a strap. Maybe to be an ass more than his pleasure. But then again it will be fucking fun to see him fall apart under under you, instead of you falling apart under him.

-

You come back with a bag in your hands and your new lingerie under your clothes. He gets up and grabs you and pins you against the wall. His lips press against yours harshly, with aggression and anger. You realize how fucking hard he is. It's pressing against your legs, you try to look down, but his hand is wrapped in your hair pulling at it.

He picks you up meanly and throws you on the bed attempting to be tough. He rips your clothes off, gaping at your body in the lingerie. He went to dom instantly to sub. Like usual. It's a common recurrence. He kisses the top of your breast softly with wide eyes. He massages your other tit and you let out a little moan and so does he.

He kisses your body as he slowly takes off your lingerie. "You're so pretty..." He gaps at your body. "Please..." He begs nothing in specific but just wanting you so fucking bad.

You both lay on your sides faces in front of crotches in a perfect 69. You take his long cock into your mouth and suck the sensitive tip. He grabs your ass and shoves his face in our pussy and smells. You barely did anything and he's already gasping. Pussy drunk just from your smell.

He lets out little pathetic moans when he dick hits the back of your throat. He sucked on your clit like a soother, as little tears rolled down his face. Your throat tightens with pleasure as he sucks. He automatically lets out a pathetic whimper and suckles harder.

He cums down your throat and you swallow. He whines and moans and suckles and you eventually simply squirt as well. He laps it all up drunk on your taste. He pulls you up and leaves little kisses on your face.

"I bought something." You say in a cocky voice. He looks at you suspicious gleam in his eyes. "And that is...?" He says a bit concerned. You're known to buy weird things, like one time banana holders shaped like bananas (you didn't need it) so he's a bit skeptical of what you 'bought'. But he's still cerious.

"A strap and some lube." You bluntly spurt out. "Wait- what?! You are not using that on me-!" You do a little pout. "Come on i'll take care of you and make you feel good. Pleaseee?"

He lets out a defeated sigh. And you immodestly smile with a grin that seems evil. Satoru raises his eyebrows surprised and slightly nervous. You grab the lube and spurt enough love on your finger for like 10 sex sessions. But you need to make sure your Satoru feels good. He always makes sure you do so you will take care of him today.

"Get on your stomach." You gently demanded and he did as commanded. "Wait." Satoru quickly said. "I want you to feel good too. Spread your legs." He spreads your legs and shoves a vibrator inside and grabs the remote then goes on his stomach. You attach the strap and shoves your heavily lubed finger inside his ass and he lets out a little discomforted grunt. You kiss his back and slowly pull his finger in and out.

"It's starting to feel good..." He mumbles into his pillow his muscles flexing. He grabs the remote and makes it buzz inside you and your finger falters and you let out a little moan. You pull your finger out and place the dildo strap right in front of his ass and push in. He ups the vibrations and you push in deeper caressing his g-spot. Your arms wrap around his body and grab his cock and thrusts.

You jerk him off fast and your thrusts catch up to speeds. He starting whining and the vibrations get stronger and your juices start to lube the strap on dildo making it smooth in and out deeper and farther.

"I- I'm cumming!" He moans out and cums all over your hands and jolts of pleasure shoot through you as well. You both moan and cum in unison. You pull out and take off the strap and pull out the now soaked vibrator.

He pulls you into his arms and holds you close. Both your bodies are in a thin layer of sweat and he leaves little kisses on your forehead and gentle 'thank you's' in your ears. Then he asks a question holding the strap and vibrator in the air.

"Round two?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Sorry this is my first smut its lowkey bad but trust me I'm slowly getting better 😘

I had to delete the post but here is the results so you all know what im posting first <3

Twitter links w JJK characters

MDNI - P⭑rn

Master list's

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Nanami Kento

Helping you cook

Lazy eat out after over time

his fav postion!!

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Satoru Gojo

“lets hope we don’t get caught..”

soft morning sexxxx

69

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Ryomen Sukuna

he just lovesssss tying you up while fucking you

hitting those nice places and squirting

guess he gotta prep you nicely for both of his cocks

He needs a taste

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Suguru Geto

Teasing you\ rubbing his dick on ur clit

sitting on his face

holding you by your thighs

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Toji Fushiguro

How he eats pussy

folding and fingering you

missionary (sorta)

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Choso Kamo

Rubbing that pussy

clit licking

You love it when he rubs your clit while he fucks you

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Shoko Leiri

matching lingere

taking care of her fav girl

holding a vibrator between the two of your puffy pussies

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Yuki Tsukumo

threesome with choso

super squirter

double sided dildo = double the pleasure

her rubbing ur clit

she's always a little wet in the mornings, and you don't mind when she grinds on you to relieve herself

୨୧・・・・୨୧

criminally underrated and not talked about enough, satoru using his cursed technique to fuck your cunt into oblivion. he prefers to have you on your back with your legs over his muscular shoulders. his blindfold dangling around his neck, hair messily ruffled, face flushed pink and his eyes glowing while he uses his six eyes. using his innate technique to be able to see his long, thick cock hitting that oh so great g-spot of yours. and he loves teasing the absolute shit out of you with it. pounding that spot relentlessly at a consistent pace until you’re clenching so tightly around him that he knows you’re about to cum and then he slows down to a stop. doing that over and over again, using his reverse curse technique until you’re crying and begging him to let you cream around his length. when he finally drags the tip of his cock perfectly against your g-spot while rubbing his thumb on your clit, your vision goes white. your body almost pulsating in pleasure while he gasps in admiration. watching his thick load spill inside your twitching pretty pussy, filling you to the brim as he uncontrollably moans in bliss.

updated my masterlist finally :3

paintingchoso ⛧ masterlist

jujutsu kaisen

↳ ❝ choso ❞

ᯓ good boy (18+)

ᯓ family man (18+)

ᯓ blurb (18+)

↳ ❝ suguru ❞

ᯓ locker room talk (18+)

ᯓ stay in your place (18+)

↳ ❝ satoru ❞

ᯓ locker room talk (18+)

ᯓ good morning (18+)

↳ ❝ megumi ❞

ᯓ wip!

my hero academia

↳ ❝ dabi/touya todoroki ❞

ᯓ (soon…)

↳ ❝ tomura shigaraki ❞

ᯓ (soon…)

... & even more soon.

© paintingchoso 2025 : do not repost, copy, plagiarize, translate, or use my works OUTSIDE of tumblr.

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

Hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision.

ᰔ pairing. babysitter/boxing au - underground boxer & babysitter!gojo x college student!reader (f)

ᰔ summary. when underground boxer gojo satoru becomes a little strapped for cash, he gets a day job as a babysitter for a five-year-old kid named yuuji who most definitely has adhd (but that’s besides the point). the kid’s mom gave gojo two rules, and two rules only: don’t accidentally kill my son, and do not flirt with my daughter. he’s pretty sure he’s got a good hold on the former, but he’s got no self control over the latter.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, smut, casual sex, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of crack, slight age gap (reader’s 22 & gojo’s 27), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, gojo is a sleazebag that cares?, sort of porn-coded smut except there’s a lil bit of lore so it’s kinda porn w plot, uhh having sex with risk of getting caught, gojo beats people up at night & then plays father figure to a 5 y/o during the day, mentions of violence/alcohol/drugs/blood/cigarettes

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

a/n. hiiii friends jeez it feels like FOREVER since i've posted some good ol' smut (still has plot tho xd)...hopefully you enjoy n see ya at the bottom! lmk if i missed any warnings! if you asked to be tagged but didn’t get tagged it’s bc you have your tags off aaa :( even when some ppl tried to fix it i still couldn’t tag them i’m sorry!!

alsoooooo so very much love to @starmapz for beta reading this for me :”) really helped me w my posting nerves haha. she is also a wonderful jjk author pls go check out her works!! 💕 ART CREDITS: @/3-aem

➸ masterlist

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): heyy um i’m sorry if this comes off kinda rude i just am kinda bad with this but i was wondering if you could text my mom for questions about yuuji’s care instead of me?

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Oh 2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Yeah, sure

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sorry i know my mom doesn’t know much ab how to take care of him bc i was the one that took care of him for a while but i just really want to separate myself from that guardian role now that i’ve transferred to NYU yknow? :/ i think it’s not my place anymore. i just wanna be big sis now haha

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: I get it. Sorry if I was making you uncomfortable with my texts

2:48pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): no no not uncomfy by it, thanks for looking after him. it’s just i’m kind of busy n stuff so it can be distracting 

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

2:52pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): and it was kind of an issue with his last babysitter

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

2:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeahhh like he would keep textinf me n stuff uhh kinda weird things… i told my mom about it and she was super pissed so she fired him

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

2:56pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah he was always “accidentally sexting me” n like he sent me a dick pic once sooooo yeah

2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Who tf 2:56pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll go beat him up

2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): oh no no its fine lol 2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): please dont beat anyone up 2:58pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i’m not saying you’re like him tho i just think maybe less texting unless its an emergency okay?

3:00pm Gojo Satoru: Are you sure because I will totally go beat him up for you

3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO I DONT WANT YOU TO BEAT ANYONE UP FOR ME 3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): also no offense but you dont look like you could beat someone up

3:01pm Gojo Satoru: WHAT 3:02pm Gojo Satoru: Tf you mean “no offense” that’s literally the most offensive thing you could say to a guy

3:04pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeaa i mean you have muscles ofc but in the ‘ohhh i wanna look good for instagram’ way and not like real man muscles yknow

3:06pm Gojo Satoru: Ok princess next time you visit home and go on one of your stupidly large grocery hauls I’ll make sure you carry all those groceries in by yourself 

3:06pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): I WAS JUST JOKING 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): YOURE SO STRONG TY FOR ALWAYS CARRYING THE GROCERIES INSIDE 3:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): PLEASE KEEP CARRYING MY GROCERIES INSIDE

3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Nah 3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Should we be texting right now? I’m not sensing any emergencies here

3:11pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): pls. my groceries :(

3:16pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll let the kiddo know you say hi 👋🏼 

The irony of it all was that, if Gojo really wanted to, he absolutely could beat the shit out of someone. And he has, hundreds of times, pseudo professionally. Although that isn’t something he’d admit to you, out of fear that you might relay that info back to your mom who would then become mortified that she’s entrusted her five-year-old son’s life to the hands of an underground boxer. 

But he needed the money. A night-time job didn’t really make daytime money, not when they could easily replace him with the next dude the second he gets knocked out of the ring more than twice, let alone if he let it happen once. And although he sometimes made large sums, it wasn’t stable income. He needed a back-up plan, and so babysitting it was. 

The babysitter working nights at unsanctioned dojos and gyms located in the back of cartel blocks, knocking teeth out of men twice his size, would put any decent mother into a coma or induce some episode of syncope, hence why it wasn’t something he put on his resume before he got hired. Not that he even needed to provide a resume; your mom seemed desperate to cover the position as fast as possible, that promotion at work was moving faster than she wanted to, and Gojo’s beneficial attribute that he possessed as a candidate to look after her son, compared to all the other potential hires, was that he had a penis.

He likes the kid. Yuuji. He’s got kind of a short attention span, and makes Gojo weary of his age. Hold up, that makes him sound like he’s geriatric, he’s really only the ripe old age of twenty-seven, but the immortality and infinite stamina that a five-year-old boy has on him is enough to have him huffing and puffing at the end of every single evening shift he takes on with the rascal. 

Fighting is all sprint, and no stamina. Sure, there might be some more seasoned boxers that might disagree with him, but for someone as young as him in the field, it’s the tactic he’s been forced to gain. If he draws a fight on for too long, he'll get killed by a forty-two year old man with steroids clogging up his adipose tissue and enough  testosterone to grow a full-body beard by the time the sun starts to set. No, his strategy is to knock them out within the first fifteen seconds. Use their weight against them, and whatnot. A tactic he’s found has worked, since he’s been undefeated thus far. 

He can never wrap his head around it. The drug lords that run the rings who’ve gained millions the night before from selling crystal meth only to lose it all the night following in the second Gojo hooklines a solid punch to their betting boxer’s chin, making them see God & their Momma before they tap out (if they’re even able).

He doesn’t pocket much money from it, not anything compared to what the men who bet on him end up making at least, but it’s a decently solid sum. How lucrative it really is depends solely on what he thinks the value of his life is.

It’s not unheard of, boxers dying in the ring. Turns out, rich drug dealers care very little about the sheep they’ve captured to perform their entertaining little stunts. But Gojo wasn’t doing all of this to feel some sense of work-life pride, no, it was just sustenance. When basic needs are not met, humans resort to the most animalistic of all behaviors, and while he’s not proud of what he does, he can’t deny the fact that it’s turned him into an adrenaline junkie that gets a rush in his veins every time he knocks a jaw loose.

But balance was key. And hence why he’s a boxer by night, babysitter by day. For at least four days a week, he gets to pretend he’s the king’s most trusted appointed knight, or he’s the radioactive tyrannosaurus rex that wants to tyrannize all the other dinosaurs, or maybe he’s the evil power ranger (he always forgets which color that one was) that is determined to make the world a living hell by smashing mr. potatohead against the bunk bed post a billion times for all the other toys to see. Or whatever other imaginative hyperfixations Yuuji imposes on him in the later afternoon once he’s had his bowl of spaghetti-O’s and is ready to play. Lately, the kid’s been really into space. They’ve got all sorts of space toys these days. Back in Gojo’s day, he just had a good ol’ Buzz Lightyear.

“One rule, that’s it: don’t accidentally kill my son. Actually, one more rule. Don’t flirt with my daughter.” 

There’s a part of Gojo that believes your mom kind of knows he’s up to shady shit at night, otherwise why else would she clause for him to not flirt with you if she didn’t read the slight swell to his eye and the healing gash across his cheek as anything other than this boy is trouble and I want him nowhere near my too-good-for-him daughter of reproductive capacity since that’s the exact tale of how I became a single mother in the first place. Or maybe he inherently looks like he’s up to no good? He’s not sure which angle is more offensive, and which one was more flattering. Well in any case, she entrusted Yuuji’s life to him, despite acknowledging the plausibility of harm, and that means she overall thinks positively of him, right? ……right?

The first night he met you, it was awkward to say the least. Gojo spends most of his nights performing deadly stunts for middle aged men with potbellies, and most of his days hanging out with a five-year-old (one who he’d argue is his only friend at this point). Sure, he’s got some people he sees occasionally back in his high school hometown when he can brave hearing about how everyone’s in college now or doing a masters or they’re working respectable nine-to-five day jobs meanwhile he has to lie to his Pops that he’s been working in insurance for the past two years. Listen, in fairness, he probably makes the same amount of money as an insurance broker would anyways, but he can’t exactly own up to the identity of his craft. 

Anyways, the point is, he’s not used to seeing other people his age anymore. There’s the occasional hook-up with girls he hasn’t seen since Mrs. Tracy’s homeroom period back in sweet two-thousand-sixteen, or his twice-a-year hangout with Suguru where he only learns the day of where he's visiting from since the guy moves around more than Gojo can keep up with. But save for that, he mostly just sees your mom and then Yuuji. 

So seeing you standing in the kitchen for the first time when he went to put Yuuji’s half-finished GoGurt back in the fridge was startling to say the least. When the sight of a woman startled him, he knew he needed to start getting out again.

You were on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab at something over the fridge, and wearing these ridiculously short shorts to where he could see the curve of your ass, his line of sight trailing down the skin of your bare legs. He couldn’t see anything of your form above your shorts, given you were wearing an extremely baggy t-shirt with NYU on it in big bolded university letters. As far as he knew, you were a senior at NYU, studying psychology, made dean’s list consecutively for the past three years given the way your mother posted all your stellar transcripts up on the fridge (he gets that she’s proud of her daughter, but doesn’t that kind of stuff usually end in grade school?) But other than that, it was all the information he had on you.

“Here,” he said, pressing his front to your back, maybe just to get a feel, as he reached over to you to finally grab the box of cereal you were swatting for, the one that he purposefully placed at the back because Yuuji learned how to climb counters recently. “Is this what you want?”

He had heard you gasp, spinning around on your heel fast, staring up at him with wide eyes like you weren’t expecting some random man to be in the house right now, and your first instinct ended up being to grab the knife out of the kitchen knife block and lunge it straight at his torso.

If it wasn’t for his boxer reflexes, he’d have ended up at the ER that evening. Or dead. All depending on the strength you could pack into a stab. But instead, he deflected it, though not without a gash to his torso through the fabric of his shirt, one that you spent the rest of the evening profusely apologizing for and eventually mending to with cotton balls and neosporin. 

“I didn’t know you were my little brother’s babysitter,” you mumbled with a small wince on your face as you dabbed ointment on the wound while he pulled the hem of his shirt up to his shoulder. He’s never had an injury tended to before. It was nice.

“It’s fine, I get it, totally acceptable response to seeing a random dude in your house.”

He remembers the curl of your eyelashes while you stared down at his bare upper half, something he imprinted on his memory rather than the concern in your face as your fingertips traced the scars across his chest. He hoped they made you feel better about the one you just slashed into him, because after all, what was one more? 

He knows he shouldn’t have, but he kissed you that night. Two minutes before your mom came home, and right after you bid him goodnight with one more apology, he backed you up against the door of your bedroom, his hands on your hips pulling you towards him, and his lips pressed against yours. Something seamless, from candid conversation that was heading towards an end, to full fledged making out against white-painted wood, his teeth nipping at your lip and he wondered just how touch-starved those university boys were leaving you given the desperate way you’d clinged to his shirt for dear life as he deepened the kiss.

The moment only lasted one minute and fifty-seven seconds, and in the remaining three, your mother’s key pushed into the front door and he had to pull away. Always, on the dot, 10PM, she was home. It was how he knew he had two minutes left to make a move in the first place.

So much for no flirting.

6:57pm Gojo Satoru: Bahahah I accidentally forgot where yuuji’s epipen is 6:58pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 6:59pm Gojo Satoru: Turns out this can-o-soup was just covering it in the cabinet

7:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): ??? why did you need to find his epipen

7:08pm Gojo Satoru: Oh he accidentally took a bite of my pad thai 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: I freaked cuz I thought it had peanuts in it but I remember I asked for it without any  7:09pm Gojo Satoru: shit’s crazy

7:10pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY THE FUCK DIDNT YOU TEXT ME????????

7:12pm Gojo Satoru: YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT ME TEXTING YOU UNLESS IT WAS AN EMERGENCY ?

7:13pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): SATORU YOU THOGHT HE ATE SOMETHING W PEANUTS IN IT AND YOU FORGOT WHERE HIS EPIPEN WAS THATSS A FUCKIGN EMERGENCY

7:15pm Gojo Satoru: THE KID IS DOING FINE HES ALIVE JESUS LEAVE ME ALONE 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: See. he’s chill 7:17pm Gojo Satoru: with intact airways might I add 7:18pm Gojo Satoru: Also isn’t he a little too old to still be watching baby sensory videos?

7:20pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah my mom thinks he has adhd :(

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

He tried to keep his word though (although he doesn’t recall ever giving it) out of the respect he had for your mom. She was a hard-working lady, single mom of two who went from working three jobs to now being a major administrator at a big law firm near the outskirts of town. It was an underdog story if he’d ever heard one, and he loved an underdog story. 

But a little texting here and there wouldn’t hurt, right? Or so he thought, until you told him to cut it out with the contact. Maybe you were just trying to be the good one in this situation. After all, hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision. Still, he’ll eventually get your replies to his which shirt should Yuuji wear to the park? and look, the toothfairy gave him the butt of a joint and a couple thumbtacks for his front tooth. he’s ecstatic texts, although in a less timely manner than before when you weren’t trying to preserve propriety. And when you’d occasionally visit every other weekend, he’d do his best to keep his hands in his pockets, and you’d fill up your nights with hangouts with your hometown friends to avoid spending too much time with him at the house. A silent agreement to not fuck each other, it was. 

4:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): send pic of yuuji pls i miss him :(

5:04pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo]

5:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): IS THAT BLOOD?!?!?!?!

5:09pm Gojo Satoru: chillllllll it’s fake. We’re working on his halloween costume

5:09pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY DOES IT HAVE BLOOD?!?!?!?!?!?

5:10pm Gojo Satoru: He wants to be a baby xenomorph and I'm his parasitic host. You know that iconic chestburster scene from the old school alien movies? yeah

5:12pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): satoru please for the love of god just dress him up as a dinosaur or something

5:13pm Gojo Satoru: I’m not the one that came up with the idea, okay? It was him

5:14pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): because you let him watch adult swim with you before putting him to bed. you’ve deranged his brain.

5:14pm Gojo Satoru: He needs it. Builds character.

Gojo was living a double life, and if someone asked him, he’d say it was less of a Clark Kent way and more of a Bruce Wayne way, although in reality, he knows it’s close to neither. He’s no superhero with a concealed identity fighting crime, he’s a con artist that’s tricked a hard-working woman into hiring him just because he’s trying to save up enough money to get the fuck out of this godforsaken town, given he’s not knocked dead before then for the crime’s amusement.

But Yuuji looks up to him now. And Gojo’s grown attached to him too. He taught the kid how to tie his own shoes and piss inside the actual toilet like a real man. And that kid’s the only thing that’s made him question any of this. Maybe that’s what dads feel, suddenly held to all this impossible responsibility and the pressure to stop doing stupid shit so that you’ll stick around to see your kids get older. The thought that there are eyes on you now, eyes that are innocent and hopeful and learning, and because they know nothing at all, you feel the responsibility to protect them from everything. For fucks sake, remind him to never become a dad. 

“Do you like my sister?” Yuuji had asked him out of nowhere one afternoon after he just got home from preschool, stacking a blue cube over a yellow one at the dining table.

“Uhh,” Gojo starts. He wondered if your mom had put a wire on the kid, so his answer was as diplomatic as he could manage. “Yeah, she’s cool. You’ve got a cool sister.”

“But. But.” Yuuji stutters, trying to find his big boy words. He stretches up higher to reach the top of his stack of blocks, but he only has so much arm real estate at the age of five. “Do you like her like you wanna kiss her?”

Gojo grabs the block from the kid’s hand, for a moment questioning Yuuji’s decision to want to put a blue block over another blue block, but he figures aesthetics are the least of a kid’s concern, and so he places the block where Yuuji wanted it. 

Why does the kid know what kissing is anyway? Do kids know that kind of stuff at that age? Isn’t a kiss to a five-year-old just something their mom gives to them before they head off to preschool for the day? And not something that happens between adult men and women? Maybe he should stop watching that adult swim in front of him.

“No. I don’t want to kiss your sister,” he says, again, because he is suspicious of a wire. It was a lie and then some, because he wants to do a lot more than just kiss you.

Gojo lifts the RedBull he was nursing up to his lips and watches Yuuji in the corner of his eye as the kid stares at his growing stack of blocks with a concentrated expression on his face, his chubby fingers squeezing tightly into little round dimpled balls, like he’s putting together all his tiny brain cells together to form another coherent thought before turning to face Gojo on the chair.

“It’s ok. You can kiss her if you wan’ed to. You can marry her too,” Yuuji says.

Gojo almost spits out his RedBull. He barely manages to swallow it, a broken cough immediately leaving his throat when some of the liquid goes down the wrong pipe and he’s smacking a fist against his chest to knock the sanity back into himself.

“Where the fu—…where the flip did that come from?” he asks, blinking back tears from the rasp in his throat.

Yuuji’s small shoulders sulk as he sits back on his heels. “I want a papa.”

Oh fuck that hurt. Jesus christ, there was nothing more sad than that. Yuuji has literally never known what it’s like to have a dad, since his had left before he was even born. Gojo’s not really close to his old man by any means, but he had still been a fatherly figure in some pivotal moments when he had needed it growing up. Kids need their dads. And he’s seen enough people lose their way without one to know that the value of them is really underestimated.

He’s also kind of shocked that Yuuji really did think of you as his motherly figure. Maybe since it had always just been him and his dad, Gojo learned how to self sustain from a young age, and he and his dad became accustomed to just looking after their own interests to avoid the headache of tending to one another. My land is my land, and your land is yours, and there was the occasional Saturday night spent together with his dad’s millions of beer bottles emptied dry on the carpet in front of the 1992 box TV as the two shared a greasy pizza from the place down the street. That was the extent of family solidarity that he knew.

But he can’t imagine being barely eighteen and having to take care of your little brother all by yourself because your mom was too busy trying to put food on the table and was too poor to hire a babysitter. Your mom tried so damn hard to keep you away from the single teenage mother life, but somehow ended up giving it to you by proxy in the end anyway. It was no wonder you wanted space now that Yuuji’s a little older and your mom can afford a babysitter. No matter how much you might love your sibling, being their effective guardian out of pure necessity had to have taken a toll.

Gojo clears his throat before he speaks. “Buddy. If I married your sister, we’d be brothers. I wouldn’t be your dad.” 

Yuuji’s eyes light up at the word brother. “Brothers? Me and you?”

“Yeah. Bros.”

The kid giggles, all bubbly with cheeks rounding fully and eyes sparkling. Gojo reaches out to ruffle at his hair before Yuuji gets down onto one stubby leg at a time from the chair then bolts towards the kitchen.

“Juice!!” he yells somewhere around the corner out of sight.

Gojo sighs, staring at all the toys he pulled out for Yuuji to play with, all left in a scattered mess across the table. He gets up out of his chair and heads towards the fridge. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your juice, you little demon.”

The conclusion he comes to, and it might read like an obvious one, is that kids don’t really know the reality of life, hence why adults hide so much from them. 

This is what he thinks of tonight when he wraps his worn out boxing tape around his hands and his wrist, tightening it with his teeth, and he can smell the sweat and grime from them. The back of the underground gym had an old dated locker room, and as Gojo stretches his neck side to side while sitting on the stiff metal bench, he eyes the peeling red paint of the locker in front of him, blurring vision making it look like spilt blood. 

His phone pings with a text. He shuffles inside his duffle bag to look for it while his other hand scratches at his bare chest.

1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): hhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): omgomgomg sor y i’m 

He blinks at the screen, confusion flashing across his face. He types one letter, but then he sees three dots and a speech text bubble in the bottom left, so he waits for you.

1:09am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i drunk :(

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. 

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

1:10am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): at a apartyyyy

His eyebrows raise slightly, the thought of you tipsy on some frat party couch flashing through his mind, yet of all things you could be doing at that frat party, you’re texting him? Must be a really boring party.

1:11am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): whyyy are you aawake?

1:12am Gojo Satoru: Couldn’t sleep 1:12am Gojo Satoru: Don’t you have a midterm in the morning?

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): wtf hwo do you knwo that

1:15am Gojo Satoru: Your mom keeps your schedule posted on the fridge

1:15am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): im so fucked;’;(((

He snorts. He’s got a bit more life experience than you, five-ish years to be exact, more than enough time to master the no-hangover hangout, but just before he can offer you some advice, he sees another text from you. 

1:16am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): can i tell u smething 

His gaze flits up to the ceiling briefly, and he hears commotion outside the thick walls of the locker room. The previous fight was over, and fast. The guy must’ve been knocked out in under twenty seconds tops, which means that Gojo was next up against whatever superbeast just beat him up. 

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

He stands up, placing his phone down on the bench before he flexes the muscles in his arms a couple times to get the blood flowing into them. And there’s the noise of another ping. Actually, four.

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sonetimes 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i thikn of  1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): when u kisse me 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): *kissed me

His eyes widen slightly, irises dry to the ashy cigarette smoke from outside lingering in the air, and his heart rate picks up a bit. An adrenaline junkie with close to no fear in his veins due to the way his amygdala’s been fried to a crisp from years of boxing, yet he’s got his breath hitched from the memory of your soft lips against his. It makes the blood rushing through the muscles of his arms rush somewhere down south instead.

Loud banging on the door of the locker room jolts him out of his trance, and he’s stiff around the edges once more.

“Satoru! You’re up, man,” he hears Danny, the fight coordinator, yell at him from the other side of the heavy & poorly-installed steel door.

Gojo sighs, glancing down at the texts on his phone. To respond, or not to respond. You’re off your face, clearly chatty from the alcohol, and he knows for certain you’ll regret every life decision you’ve ever made once you wake up in the morning and see the self sabotaging behaviors you’ve engaged in tonight. He knows that responding to you might put you at ease rather than straight up ignoring you, but the feeling will pass, and he has a match to win with no more room left to stall.

He makes his way out the locker room, pushing past the crowded halls of people underneath dim flashing club lighting, some dudes angrily jerking to face him when he pushes past them with a stiff shoulder, only for their eyes to widen when they see just exactly who pushed them. 

There’s strippers in the ring, doing some routine for pre-match, and Gojo narrows his eyes at the man he sees laying back over the rubber boundary rope, head tipped back up to the ceiling with a wicked grin on his face. So that was his opponent? He’s never seen the guy before. Was he from a different district? Different district talent was tough, you had no background info on them, while they’ve been preparing to be here for weeks. Hence why boxers tend to do better when they visit a different district than they do in their own. There have been rules made to limit these types of fights, mostly over outrage that it was unfair to bid on them, but they were also usually more entertaining to watch. Gojo’s got a sick feeling to his stomach as the strippers clear the ring.

“Hey,” Gojo calls out, grabbing Danny by the back of his collar and dragging him towards him and away from the girls stepping down onto the floor, “what’s in for this fight?”

Danny glances up at the ceiling. “Tarp’s bettin’ tonight, so it can’t be anything less than ten grand for you. I’d say tops fifteen?”

Gojo narrows his eyes further, then glances off into the ring again. The man stands up, and Gojo gets a better look on his face. He’s got short hair, neon green in color with a dark fade underneath and tattoos all over his face. But those eyes. They were freakishingly red, and it made him uneasy. He knows the type. The type of boxers that do this to genuinely hurt people for thrill. Make no mistake, Gojo understands he’s made himself out to be like that too, gaining some kind of rush out of this profession, but this type of fighter was different. The type to literally continue smashing a dude’s face into the floor until they’re a bloody mess even minutes after the winning call, and no referee to stop it because that’s the kind of action the spectators wanted.

Danny reads his line of sight. “That’s Gale. Newton’s new boxing toy. Came outta nowhere about a month ago. He’s undefeated so far in his district, and Newton specifically wanted to see you up against him tonight,” Danny tells Gojo, resting his elbow up on his bare shoulder. “Chances are he’ll compete with Tarp for final bid if you win this one. I’m talking twenty-five grand in the next if you can knock him out in this.”

“Uh-huh,” Gojo acknowledges, rolling his shoulder so Danny’s elbow falls from it. Forget the money, he just wants to make it out of this alive.

He sets his foot up on the square, ducking through the dividing boundary straps and the tacky caution construction tape that the gym thinks creates an exciting ambience. He hears the static of the speakers as the announcers call out Gojo’s name, then this other guy, loud bass club music booming through Gojo’s chest as he tries to take a few deep breaths through the thick air of this low-ceiling arena. 

The dim overhead lights flickered, casting shadows over the makeshift ring, and the crowd pressed tight around at every perimeter area, yelling and pushing, one even tosses a beer bottle on the square and it shatters, spreading glass all across, a few shards reaching Gojo’s feet and he looks down at them with a shudder. A fight immediately breaks out in the crowd over something related or possibly entirely unrelated, and he’d have no way of knowing as he swipes the shards away with his heel.

The influential men always sat up on higher seating, off towards the back in their own VIP section where they suck in the smoke of fat cigarettes and peer through 100% tinted sunglasses to assess the boxers they’ve bid thousands on. The light reflects off the golden grills of their teeth with every snarl at any passerby that gets too close, like a lion in its den. That’s what the sanction was called. Lion’s den.

Gojo sighed, eyeing the twisted grin of this Gale guy across from him. Was that his real name? Usually, foreign district guys get nicknames. Gojo’s always thought the nicknames were tacky, and he’s accumulated some of his own over the years, but to his ears, none of them ever really landed, although The White Fox admittedly was kinda nice. Reminded him of throwback shooting games. 

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, holding his hands up in front of his chest in weak fists, storing energy in them in the form of pure anticipation alone, and then the bell rang.

His opponent lunged towards him immediately, fists flying in a barrage of reckless strikes, and Gojo’s eyes momentarily widened in the briefest moments of hesitation he had been allowed before ducking and dodging every one of this guy's shots, then jumping a step back to create distance.

Fuck. He was fast. Not just boxer fast, athlete fast. There was a difference. And it wasn’t a good one to be up against.

Gojo picked up light on his feet. He couldn’t win this one fast, that much was certain. One single careless or reckless move, and he’ll get tackled. He knows that by the malicious look he sees on that guy’s face, grin wide like he’s some cannibalistic beast. 

Stepping back towards the center, Gojo purposefully set himself up for Gale to swipe a vicious hook towards his head, before Gojo last minute ducked down, crouched to the floor, and swung his leg out to knock the guy off balance by his ankles, and he falls onto his back with a loud thud!

There’s a moment of momentary silence from the crowd, right before Gojo put the man in a torso-lock, twisting him in a way a human body should absolutely not be twisted, hearing the grunts of pain and the crack of spine even through the shouts of the crowd.

He can hear it. Kill him! Knock his fucking teeth out! Snap his neck like a goose, man! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM!

He feels like throwing up. 

Gojo looks up at the referee, who wasn’t really a referee, just there to run the clock when there was action and only barely stop it before near death. “This is enough, right?” he asks.

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

Gojo lets go of his opponent, leaving him there to heave for a moment before he gets up onto his feet again. Just needs one more, and he’s a winner. Ten grand in his pocket, and he won’t have to come back here for a couple weeks.

Gale gets up, swiping at the spit that had trickled out the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and he had an enraged look on his face. The second the bell rang for the second round, he exploded forward towards Gojo with even more fervor than before, gritted expression with a thirst for violence fueling the storm of punches he was throwing towards Gojo but he tried to remain calm, light on his feet, swiftly duck and avoid before he can find another opportunity to clear a sharp, clean jab right to the ribs—

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

Gojo misses his strike, leaving his guard wide open, and Gale takes the opportunity to land a solid punch straight to his jaw, sending his mouth guard flying straight out of his mouth into the air, and knocking him backwards onto the ground with a thud and then he finds himself staring up at the rusting metal ceiling and a ringing in his ears that almost matches the roar of the crowd.

His head is in a haze, dizzy like where one second could feel like a millennia. He feels a soreness underneath his chin, a pain that radiates to his mouth, and he briefly swipes his tongue over his front teeth to make sure he still has all of them. 

What the fuck was that? That intrusive thought. There’s no intrusive thoughts allowed in life or death situations, not when he was always just one smash to the head away from a permanent concussion. But, fuck, he can’t help it. Can’t help thinking of you. Even when his vision has gone blurry and he should really be weary about what happens next in this ring, his mind’s just thinking about you, at some frat party, tipping back shots of tequila and waiting for a text-back in response to your tipsy ones. Were you even waiting up on him? Have you already passed out on the couch, or were your friends dragging you back to your dorm? Or are you fucking some other dude right now? Has he got his hand up your top, squeezing at you, sleazily feeling you up before spilling beer all down your shirt, and are you kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, your phone now somewhere long slipped between the cushions of the couch and out of sight?

Even though it’s still sore, he tenses his jaw. Grinds his teeth, even. Tasting blood somewhere along the line of his gums, he realizes his lip is split. He licks at it, the flavor of copper more rich on his tongue, and he clenches his fists tightly. Why’s he thinking of that right now? It just pisses him off, the thought of you with some other dude. Maybe that’s what he needs to win this fight. Spite. Although he’s not sure why the guy across from him at the ring has to pay for it.

He lifts his head up off the ground, and while it felt like years he had been down, a glance at the timer tells him it’s only been a solid four seconds. A solid four seconds that his opponent had to fully charge a lunge towards him with the look of death in his face, raising his elbow up into the air in time with his leap, ready to come straight down, and Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight above him from where he’s still lying on the wood.

“Shit—” he cusses, rolling his body over to the side so that the dude falls straight down onto the floor rather than elbow Gojo in the fucking ribs, and then he gets back up on his feet. 

Stakes were high, he has to end this, he has to end this now, and he flexes the muscle in his right bicep, channeling everything he has into this one blow, and before Gale even really has a chance to turn around and face him again, Gojo’s already three-fourths set up a knockout undercut that he drives straight up the guy’s chin, with so much force it has him lifting up off the floor, a vertebrate stretch to his spine before he’s sent flying backwards and slammed against the tight rubber lining of the ring to where he was half hanging over it.

The room fell silent for a split second, then erupted in a roar as the referee fell to one knee beside Gale, checking him for any semblance of consciousness, and when he found none, he waves the match off. 

Gojo’s eyes flit up towards the lion’s den, the only opinions that he really needed to care about were sitting in those mahogany chairs with glasses of scotch swirling around in their hands, and he sees some of them looking straight at Gojo before leaning towards one another and discretely talking about something he can’t make out because he doesn’t know how to read lips.

He feels someone tug at his arms from behind, pulling him to crouch down and he balances back on the balls of his feet. He glances down through the ring at the floor. Danny was leaning against the wooden surface of it. “Dude. Go.” He jerks his head towards Gale, who still laid there sprawled across the now stretched out rubber perimeter bands. “Go fuck him up. Knock a few more teeth out, I don’t know, get some more blood out of him.”

“What?” Gojo huffs, yanking his arm away from Danny’s grip. “The fuck are you saying?”

“I told you, man, Newton’s here and he’s got his eye on you. Go give him a show,” Danny says, “do it.” And when he sees clear frustration on Gojo’s face he sighs. “Twenty-five grand, consider that, will you?”

Gojo sneers at the man, an awful taste in his mouth as he spits blood towards Danny’s feet. “Go fuck yourself on his cock if he wants a show that bad.” And then he ducks underneath the bands and hops back down onto the floor, pushing past people who were trying to grab at him and pull at him and lift him up and even throw him down until he made it through flashing hallways and back to the locker room.

He shuts the door behind him, sliding the bolt lock into the frame so no one can follow him inside, and then he leans his weight back against the chilling steel before tipping his head back until it hits the surface too.

He lets out of a few deep breaths, then stares down at the sting he finds over his knuckles. Red and blistering from the last punch he delivered, and he’s almost certain he broke a bone in his hand. Fuck. It was bleeding across the cuts, too. He had to figure out a way to get it all healed by tomorrow, as if that was humanly possible, just because he doesn’t want Yuuji questioning him about it.

Yuuji. For fucks sake, when has he ever thought about the kid this much? When has he ever thought about much of anything when he’s out here or in the ring? He’s a babysitter by day. He’s a “part” of your family when the sun is up and normal functioning society is breathing their lives into the clean air. That’s it. He’s no five-year-old’s caretaker in front of all these primetime drug lords, and he certainly shouldn’t be thinking of you when facing big, burly men he’s aiming to rough up, all within the dead hours of night. So then how come these thoughts are on his mind at all times, twenty-four-seven, around the clock?

He heads further into the locker room, glancing down at the bench where he’d left his phone, then picks it up, neck craned all the way down to glance at the screen as he holds his phone by his hip because he doesn’t have any energy to pick it up any further towards his eyesight. 

He sees your messages. You never sent any follow-up ones, just your horrendously typed out sonetimes, i thikn of when u kisse me *kissed me across the span of four texts, and Gojo runs a tired hand down his face.

He tips his head back to groan at the ceiling, guttural with no basis other than a release of all the pent up frustration of every sort, then he types in a couple messages to you,

3:23am Gojo Satoru: That’s nice 3:24am Gojo Satoru: I think about fucking you all the time 

—and then tosses his phone into his duffel bag to call it a night.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You’re awoken to your alarm blaring heavily, and you whack your arm across your nightstand table beside your tiny twin-size bed to hit the snooze button, then rub your eye with a loose fist while smacking at the residual taste of alcohol you have on your tongue. 

“Mm…” you mumble to yourself. And then the thirst hits you. The overwhelming, intense, unquenchable thirst that leaves your mouth feeling like the Sahara desert before you grab your twice-dented Hydroflask from the nightstand, twist the cap off and chug about twenty ounces of water in one breath. 

You let out a deep exhale and fall back into bed, your hand resting on top of your water-filled tummy, and you stare up at the ceiling of your dorm. 

Last night was horrible. You knew you shouldn’t have gone to that frat party, especially given you have an exam in—you checked the time on your phone—about an hour, and an hour was not enough time to recover from the raging hangover headache that’s pounding through your head. But your roommates insisted you went, and so go you did. You never knew what to expect, always torn between shaving your pussy before you go or throwing on a stained pair of sweatpants to keep the guys away instead. Sometimes, it was a combination of both. But last night, you ended up drinking more than you usually do, and that always led to poor, poor, poor decisions, in which all the sense of pride you had in yourself was washed down with the puke that you hurled into the upstairs toilet. 

You grab at your phone again, briefly seeing that your friends had sent you some photos from the night. You immediately swiped off to the side to dismiss the notifications, because as far as you were concerned, you never wanted to see those photos in your life.

And then, in the briefest of moments, you saw a familiar name in your notifications that made you heart skip a beat.

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

With an immediate gasp, you pulled your phone to your chest and held it there, blinking up at the pale yellow ceiling, your heart picking up in rhythm.

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

Mortified was an understatement, possibly because you don’t even remember what you said, and so you don’t even want to see what he replied with.

You groan, rubbing both your hands across your face then kick your sheets back with your feet like a child having a temper tantrum because you were so embarrassed you had even texted him at all last night. I mean, he was hot. A little older than you, really gorgeous eyes, tall, and, yeah, you gave him shit for the Instagram muscles thing, but that’s only because you thought he’d find it cheeky that you were trying to humble him despite the fact that he’s more toned and ruggedly sculpted than any other man you’ve ever met. You didn’t want to have a flustered schoolgirl attitude because it would just seep through to his ego.

In any case, he was hot, there was no denying it, so can you really blame yourself? But still. There was collateral with this. You had to see him every other weekend. He knows your family, even your extended since they invited him to Thanksgiving dinner a couple weeks ago. A high-risque drunk text recipient if he ever was one (of course he has been, look at that face). Why couldn’t you have just drunk texted ECON160 guy from last semester who Clit DJ’d you underneath your desk at the back of the lecture hall instead?

The thing that made you nervous about Gojo Satoru was that he was just so…confident? Like, in that I was raised to be this way confident and not that I fought inner demons my whole life to barely end up this way confident, y’know? Never had to fake it ‘til he made it, he just was. At least that was the kind of energy you got from him, and unfortunately for you, it was nerve wracking but enticing all at the same time.

You sigh. “Stupid. Stupid. Stuuuuuupiiiiidddddddddddd. You. Are. So. Stuuuuuupiiiiddddddd,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair to grip at the strands.

You pull your phone away from your chest, and finally brave yourself to read the texts from your notifications screen, but not without blurring your vision a little to further stall. And then you finally refocus it to read them. The first one you see has you gasping—

3:24am Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter): I think about fucking you all the time 

It has heat spreading across your cheeks, and you blink at your screen, then quickly swipe up to read the previous messages with rushed glides of your index finger on the screen to see that he had sent it to you in response to your barely coherent texts about how you still so often think about that time he randomly pressed you up against the door of your bedroom to kiss you that night you first met him.

I think about fucking you all the time

At 3 in the morning? He decided to send that text at 3 in the fucking morning? That was the devil’s hour. What’s he trying to tell you? 

Oh come on, you’re not stupid. And you know he isn’t either. The sexual tension was palpable, it was there since the day you two met and you almost stabbed him, and also everytime you were visiting the house, and his shoulder brushes against yours when he’s trying to get past you in the kitchen, or when you’ve got Yuuji in your arms and the kid is clinging to Gojo’s sleeve because he wants him near him at all times. There’s even sexual tension over the phone, in those stupid texts he sends you all the time about meaningless child care stuff, and honestly, those little updates made your day.

But… you don’t know much about him, and your mom would kill you if she ever found out you wanted him. And she’d probably pulverize him if she found out he ever made a move on you. Cremated without leaving a trace behind would be an understatement. She thinks he’s no good and she thinks you’re too good. You know she’s warned him before to not get close to you, as if she was pre-emptively expecting him to try to get in your pants like it was some canon force of the universe, hence why he’s probably so fucking awkward around you whenever she’s there too. Like if he accidentally got caught staring at your ankles, your mom would light him on fire, so he’d rather not risk it by just avoiding looking at you at all.

Your mom has always been protective of you. Your father was a deadbeat, one she thought she loved, only to watch him leave. And she had to raise a baby all by herself. He re-entered your lives right before you graduated high school, knocked up your mom again with Yuuji, and guess what? Left again without a trace. To be doubly humiliated by a man is a fate you wouldn’t wish on any woman, but that’s exactly what your mom went through. It was a wake-up call for her, though. No more living paycheck to paycheck like you had been your whole lives up until Yuuji was born. The kid doesn’t even know how lucky he is with everything he has right now. Your mom worked her way up the corporate ladder and made something of herself and now you guys were comfortable, so it was safe to say she had some sort of right to look after her daughter, of whom she simply doesn’t want to follow in the same naive footsteps of her youth.

You get it. She wants to break the generational cycle. But it made being with men tough on all fronts, let alone dating. You could never bring a guy home because he’d never be enough, even if he cured cancer or could make you orgasm while doing a sixty-nine handstand. And while her overbearing paranoia over what you do or where you are or who you’re with has since dimmed slightly since you officially moved out to finish your last year of higher education at NYU, you can still feel her disappointment from a hundred miles away when you’re making out with some random frat guy on his beer-stained couch at eleven AM on a Tuesday.

But you got to college. You’ve already made it this far. You’re on dean’s list. You graduated high school as salutatorian. You’re the most highly decorated cello player in the state. You won Miss County pageant when you were sixteen for your philanthropic efforts towards feline leukemia. You did online community college for three years so you could stick back after high school and help your mom raise Yuuji, which meant that you had to forfeit your scholarship to Cornell. You’ve spent your whole life being good, you just wanna be bad for a little bit.

And if bad meant fucking the hot and mysterious babysitter, then so be it. 

You pick your phone up, begin blasting what the hell by Avril Lavigne on your dorm room bluetooth speaker, then type a message to him that says—

10:34am you: do it then

—then shove your phone under the sheets and belt out the lyrics aaaall my life i’ve been good, but now, ahhhh i’m thinkin’ what the hell!!! while kicking your feet and clutching your pillow.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gojo has no clue what divine entity has overcast their gratuitous spirit over him on this blessed Monday afternoon, but he’ll thank them for it later once his balls are empty. 

He’s got you on your back, sprawled across the couch in the living room, the first fuck being a rushed one that you offered him with before he has to go pick Yuuji up from circle time at preschool, which wasn’t ideal, but he’s delirious at the sight of you underneath him right now. Your little NYU shirt, a tighter one this time, bunched up over your bare breasts, otherwise entirely naked other than the flimsy panties dangling at your ankle, and the view of the tip of his cock looking hot and heavy against the velvet of your cunt, slowly pushing in, feeling the warmth of your walls squeeze around him paired with the sweet moan that leaves your lips, makes him fall forward with a bracing hand dug into the cushion by the side of your head because the sensation feels so fucking good he can hardly keep himself upright.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pushing himself in further to try and bottom out but he’s still got a couple inches he needs you to take, and so you curl your hips upwards towards the cieling to make more room for him, practically putting yourself into a mating press and soon enough he’s balls deep, “you on any birth control?”

“Uh-huh,” you moan, eyes closed and head tipped back with one hand squeezing your own tit.

“I can cum inside then, yeah?” he asks you, pushing your knees to your chest, slowly drawing his hips back and you squirm underneath him.

“Let’s get there first, and then we’ll discuss,” you breathe out.

“I’ve been there for the past ten minutes, baby. I could cum at any second with the way you look and feel,” he informs you flatly, because it was just the truth and you had to know it, then he feels himself twitch inside, slowly working up to a languid rhythm, almost fearfully like your mom’s going to pop out somewhere around the corner with a camera crew ready like one of those retro TV shows just to humiliate him on national television for not keeping it in his pants like she’d told him to. 

“Harder,” he hears you whisper, and he rolls his eyes shut to just focus on the feeling. The feeling of your nails grazing down the skin of his chest and his abs, tracing the scars he’s collected over the years, and he feels you tightening around him. He leans down to kiss you, fucking you properly now with the squeak of the couch springs echoing across the room, your hums of moans seeping through his lips until he’s fully taking them on with an open-mouthed kiss of sloppy tongue. 

The fact that it was wrong felt right to him, and he realizes in this moment he’s lost all sense of control. He wasn’t just an adrenaline junkie that liked to rough up dudes, he was an adrenaline junkie that wanted to fuck you against all better judgement or moral compass. The way your tits were bouncing, the slap of skin on skin, his balls slapping against your ass while you wrap your legs around him tighter, all convincing him that any consequence made it worth it.

“Good,” he groans the praise, pinning your hands above your head as he rams his hips against yours, your cute moans and squeals sounding like literal music to his ears and he feels heat spread all the way up his neck, “goooood, keep squeezin’ me like that, fuck.” He slows down momentarily, just to take a moment and watch, really look and see the way his length disappears inside of your pretty self with every push forward, and then he works back up to a relentless pace that has you tipping your head back with a slack jaw and eyes closed tightly shut, sprained expression of pleasure spread across.

“Oh, oh my god, Satoru—” you mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” His hand finds it’s way between your legs, calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your clit and you jolt underneath him, gasping as your hand shoots out to dig your nails into his bicep for purchase. “I’m gonna cum, better tell me where you want it.”

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

He presses his mouth against your cheek in a lazy smile, “Atta girl,” he drawls before pushing your ankles down as far as they’d go near your ears, folding you in half and then reigns all hell into your cunt. He should really care a bit more about your pleasure, but testing your flexibility like this with both his hands holding you down was doing sinful things to his brain, and besides, you had yourself covered with the messy circles you were rubbing over your clit. It was hot to see that too, your nimble pretty fingers so close to the place where he was pounding into you. 

“Oh shit, shit, shit—” he grunts when starts to see blistering white in his vision, balls straining with a pleasure that was almost painful. The moment he finishes feels like hot flashes in his brain, a heat like the cum he begins to paint inside your walls in time with your release, thrusting over and over and over, each one more staggered as he lets off a long, drawn out groan that comes from deep within his chest with the feeling of you milking him dry and the sound of you enjoying every second of it. He can’t remember the last time he came this much or this hard and even after coming down from the high, he feels the remnant pulse of your orgasm around his now half-flaccid dick.

He leisurely pulls out, hearing you let out a soft whimper as he marvels at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you and down towards the couch, before he scoops it up with a couple fingers and pushes it back inside. You grip his wrist tightly, but you weren’t stopping it, that motion of him plunging it all back into you.

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

He pulls his fingers out of you, coated with sex, then plugs your pussy with the fingers of his other hand because he kinda likes the idea of you walking around all day with him inside of you, so he doesn’t want it getting out. He’s then pushing his other fingers past your lips, pleased to find he’s met with not even so much as a grazing of teeth, and he grins, “bet you take a dick in your mouth as good as you take it down here.”

Your furrow your brows at him, the pout of your lips seen in the way they were puckered to lick his fingers off clean, and when you release the suction with a smack of your tongue and his fingers were wet from your saliva now, his eyes narrow with desire. You push his face away with the heel of your palm to his forehead. “Flattery won’t make me suck your dick.”

“Alright. So? How is it?” he jerks his chin towards your face, pushing against your hand with his forehead until he’s hovering over you again, “taste good?”

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

“No,” you say, and you can’t make eye contact, “good.” You sigh. “Hot. I don’t know. Salty, sweet. I’m the sweet. You’re the salty. And this conversation is obscene.”

He kisses you, capturing your lips softly, tongue darting out to taste what’s on yours. “I like it that way. Dirty. Nasty. Obscene, whatever.”

There’s the slam of a car door heard from the driveway, and the two of you instantly make eye contact with round eyes.

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

He gets up off the couch in a panic, and heads to the window of the living room fully butt-ass naked, then peers through the blinds to see—

Your mom was making it up towards the front door, rustling with her keys in her purse. And the last thing he sees before he turns around to face you is her pushing the keys through the lock.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he cusses, finding his boxers off of the floor, hopping on one foot with his cum & slick coated dick flapping around and slapping against his thighs unceremoniously as he tries to get one leg in through them and then the other. You’re trembling as you hook your panties back into place, pull your shirt back down your torso, and even in his extremely panicked state, he’s still sad he can’t freely stare at your tits anymore. You’re rummaging for your skirt in a haste, looking everywhere for it, and he finds it underneath the coffee table before tossing it to you and then he side-to-side hops towards the coat closet while he pulls his sweatpants up over his ass, in time for you to quickly run and shut the door of the closet closed just before the front door of the house swings open.

The inside of the coat closet is dark, barely enough space in there for a six-foot-four two-hundred-and-twenty pound man, but it’s better than being balls deep inside his boss’s daughter on the couch when said boss just came home from work.

He hears conversation on the other side of the door, albeit muffled, and he presses his ear to it to hear better while he tucks his dick into his boxers from where it was hanging over the waistline.

“Mom! You…you’re home so early,” he hears you squeak out.

“Yes,” your mom says, “The rest of my meetings today are online, so I figured I’d come home when there’s less traffic.”

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

“I see, I see, how was your day at work?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.

“Fine.” And then nothing. The silence could mean that was all she had to say, since your mom wasn’t really a woman of many words, or it could be a silence that means she’s suspicious about something. “Darling, why is your skirt flipped up and tucked into your panties? Your whole butt is showing.”

Through the wood of the door, he hears you softly gasp. “Oh, um, I just went to pee. Must’ve—…must’ve got caught when I pulled it back up.” 

“I see,” your mother says, and Gojo can hear her dropping her heels down near the shoe rack at the entrance. “You know, I really don’t like those short skirts you wear often. Maybe it’s just your generation, but I think it looks tacky and cheap.”

“Mom,” you say, in as stern of a voice as you can manage without sounding embarrassed.

Your mother sighs. “In any case, where is Satoru? I still would like him to go pick up Yuuji. I don’t have the patience to sit in preschool & daycare traffic right now.”

“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” you chirp, and then he hears you let out a small oh no before you lean even more weight against the door, this time somewhere lower, and he realizes you’re pressing your ass against it. His eyes narrow with a small frown, and then he realizes— his cum must still be trickling down your thighs. You couldn’t put your panties on fast enough. 

Shit. That’s hot. A little fucked up, but hot. He feels his dick harden against the fabric of his boxers, and he rests his forehead against the door, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat as he slips his hands down his sweatpants and then gives his cock a firm squeeze. The thought of you discretely swiping his cum up your inner thigh and smearing it against your thin panties so your mom doesn’t catch sight of it dripping down your legs has him slowly working up to a rock-solid erection, and he almost lets out a broken grunt from the feeling.

“What?” your mother says, “what do you mean you don’t know?”

“I’ve just been watching TV this whole time,” you say, “last time I saw him…he was…um, in the backyard pulling weeds?”

He lets out a small scoff through his nose at your cover-up. Cute. And not bad. 

Your mother sighs loudly, and he glances down at the strained veins on his dick as he tugs it through his hand, the tip rearing and appearing flushed and dripping with precum. God, you were just on the other side of this door. Less than a few inches away, and he’d be inside of you. 

“I’m going to take a shower. Go find him and tell him to pick up Yuuji soon. But before then, change into something less revealing,” your mother says in a more or less detached tone, and he can hear the stomps of her footsteps up the stairs from above him in the coat closet.

The two of you wait at least a solid minute, and just when the coast is clear, he hears you turn the knob of the coat closet and slowly crack it open.

“Okay, I think she’s in the shower, I hear the water running,” you whisper at him, “you can go now—” You glance down towards his groin, your jaw dropping. “What—…Satoru, why the fuck is your dick staring at me right now?!” you whisper-hiss at him.

He pulls you into the coat closet, pushing your front against the door to where it clicks shut, and you gasp when his hands pin your wrists crossed behind your back and his dick presses into the plush of your ass.

“You talkin’ to your mom while your pussy’s stuffed full of my cum was the single hottest thing that’s ever grazed my lizard brain,” he tells you, flipping your skirt up and hooking your panties to the side, his index finger briefly brushing against your entrance to find it still leaking from the way your walls were pulsating from his words. And then he aligns his tip to your entrance. “Now keep quiet while I do this, ‘kay?”

“Oh—” you gasp, your cheek pressed against the door as you arch your back and push your ass out for him, “okay—” you say, barely vocalizing the first syllable before he’s already stuffing himself inside of you with one solid glide of a push, making you yelp loudly and he has to instantly cup a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhhhh,” he hisses at you, immediately starting to pound you from behind, “told you to— fuuuck,” he catches sight of his length covered with a mix of your glassy arousal and his white cum, now starting to cream at the base of his cock, “jesus christ—” he breathes out, squeezing the flesh of your ass harshly with his other hand and you let out another yelp, “I told you to fuckin’ keep quiet.”

“I’m—mff,” you muffle against his palm, “I’m trying but,” your hips move back in time with his, “feels good, feels too good,” you mewl, and his hand desperately yanks up the fabric of your shirt so he can squeeze at your breast.

“Yeah?” he grunts, hypocritical for telling you to keep it down when he was slamming his hips against your ass with so much fervor he wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was reverberating across the entire house, “you like it when I fuck you while your mom’s all clueless just up the stairs?” His rhythm falters, feeling his release building, and his hand reaches in front of you to rub your clit, making you drop your head against the door with tightly closed eyes. “Gets— you—wet, doesn’t it?” he torments you, his lips near your ear as he slams his hips against you harshly with every enunciated syllable. 

“Mhm, mhm,” you easily agree, or maybe that’s because it’s all you can really articulate, and he angles his hips up so his balls slap more fervently against your clit, making you scream into his palm while he picks up the pace of the circles he draws on your clit and in one, two, three— beats of his pounding heart, he feels you come undone around his cock, gushing wetness leaking out of you, he can feel the mess of fluids splattering on the skin of his thighs due to each of his heaving thrusts as he cusses out a fuuuuuuckkk before spilling his cum inside of you, a short-lived and thicker release this time that has you mewling from overstimulation, and in a few following thrusts, he’s given you everything he had to give.

His eyes open, he wasn’t even aware he had shut them in the first place, and he glances down at where the two of you were joined. Rings of arousal coat the length of his half-pulled-out dick, and the second he retreats all of it, a bulging push of his cum seeps out of you, dripping and pooling all over the hardwood floors.

“Holy shit, I wish I could take a picture of this,” he says, taking a step away to commit the sight to memory, your legs trembling and still slightly spread, ass pushed out and when you wiggle it a little, he lets out a huff of an exhale because he just can’t believe how sexy you are. Are all college girls like this? He’s never been to college, his old man’s been trying to get him to go for years, but maybe this is what finally convinces him.

“No pics,” you breathe out once you catch your breath, standing up straight slowly, “that’s my one sex rule.”

He takes a step closer to you, flipping your skirt back over your ass while you shimmy your shirt down to cover your chest. “That’s the only rule you have? Anything else goes?” he asks.

You spin around to face him, his eyes briefly flitting down to the still exposed skin of your midriff. “I have a feeling I’d be making up more specific rules if it was with you.”

He smiles, his hands grabbing your hips before pressing you up against the door again. “I also had a rule. It was to not fuck you. Wait, no, to not flirt with you. Which, technically, I didn’t do.”

You blink your eyes at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused, “I didn’t.”

“Huh—” you scoff, “how do you think we got into this situation in the first place?? You didn’t just say wanna fuck? You were insufferably flirty with me.”

“Nahhh nah nah nah nah, baby, that’s not flirting,” he tells you, thumb running circles over your hips, “that’s, like—…I don’t even fuckin’ know how it worked on you to be honest, I was just being stupid.”

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

“Well you said you were being stupid so me falling for it must mean I’m stupid.”

“Pshhh. You’re cute. Pulling weeds, by the way? Adorable.”

Your hand slowly roams up the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching at your wrists until you uncovered up to his collar bone, and you stare at his skin. He tries to not let the way his heart’s beating faster show through the heave of his chest. 

“Why do you have all these scars, anyway?” you whisper to him.   

“Too many girls tryna stab me,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes. “Seriously.” Your thumb traces the one you had left on him. 

“I—” He stops himself.

Does he tell you? Should he tell you? What, just because he’s seen you naked and you took his dick like a queen he’s supposed to open up to you about these things now? He doesn’t know. Maybe he could? Maybe you already suspect what he does at night. And if not, at the very least, I’m an underground boxer might make you think he’s hot? At the very worst, you’ll report him to the cops and he’d get fired as your little brother’s babysitter then thrown into jail, but not before the busted cartel gets him first.

“Maybe I’ll tell you some other time,” he says, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling it from his chest, “no hyper personal details until you’ve had my dick in your mouth at least once or twice. That’s my one rule.”

You snort. “I could’ve guessed that rule from a mile away.”

He hums. And then there’s the sound of steps creaking down the stairs above the two of you.

You both make eye contact, eyes widening, internally yelling at each other: how the fuck did we get into this situation twice?!

This time, Gojo opens the door and stumbles out of the closet, leaving you inside of it, just in time for your mom to come down the stairs.

“Satoru. I was looking for you,” she says as she rounds the post. “Have you picked up Yuuji? He has to go for his swimming lessons soon.”

“Ah, nope, was just about to head out,” he says, letting out a cough to diffuse tension, “sorry, I was—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind him, “…pulling out some gnarly weeds.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I see. Well, thanks. If you want, I can add a gardening stipend to your paycheck. Let me know.” And he’s not sure how to respond because he’s not sure if she’s joking. 

He heads out the door, the keys to your mom’s minivan in his palm as he throws them up into the air and catches them a couple times. And just before he gets inside the car, he turns on his heel to face the house and pulls his phone out of his pocket to type in a message for you.

3:22pm Gojo Satoru: Send over those me-specific sex rules soon

.

.

.

[the end]

a/n. hope u enjoyed im shitting bricks posting this bc i haven't posted a oneshot smut since february but thanks so much for reading i appreciate u!! i got way too invested in the whole underground boxer thing 😂😂 but the fact i managed to keep everything under 12k is an accomplishment to me bc if u read my other fics you know i’m a yapper LOL i have another kind of a similarly written smut oneshot n it’s a lil angsty (totally different au tho) i’ll probs post that one next but yea i really like, hmm, i really like exploring entire characters within a short amount of time i enjoy writing the obscure lore drops xd it’s been kinda fun so far anywho much loveee hope to see u around! <3

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The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.

Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)

A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.

“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”

“Duh, I know everything.”

“Nuh uh, Toru.”

“Yuh uh!”

The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school. 

Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.

A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.

You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.

Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-

Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:

Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt. 

Never mess with you. Anyone but you. 

Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.

Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.

And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.

Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second. 

Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”

“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”

You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”

“...you would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would- Sugu–!”

And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”

He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.

With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”

Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”

You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team. 

And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile. 

Everything. 

Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else. 

“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.

Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”

Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all. 

If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.

Just a friend comforting a friend, right?

So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.

Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.

That night ended with a second kiss. 

You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you. 

Everything. 

But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”

And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio. 

He learns another two things that night:

Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you. 

He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.

It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.

Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.

According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.

“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”

God, what a way to start the year.

Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”

And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries. 

“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”

“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”

“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”

And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments. 

But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”

You knew. 

You’d kissed him back. 

“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”

You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister. 

The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.

But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”

“Where?”

At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good. 

“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up. 

Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”

Close - too close. So dangerously close.

He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”

“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by. 

And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling. 

“I’m a dead man, Shoko.” 

There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.

Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”

Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.  

Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine. 

And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics. 

His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.

Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked. 

Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss. 

He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door. 

“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”

You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that. 

Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for. 

Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”

As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.

“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth. 

So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours. 

Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes. 

“Toru, I have a date.”

The fourth kiss.

Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”

And the last.

He fucked up.

He really, really fucked up.

That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship. 

He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious. 

What did he have that Satoru didn’t? 

The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his. 

You, that loser had you.

“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”

“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-

“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”

And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-

SLAM!

Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.” 

And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom. 

“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye. 

Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”

Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”

“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”

And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”

Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually  more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn. 

“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”

Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”

And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy. 

Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.

His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”

Oh. 

Shit. 

“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”

And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”

“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”

“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”

“...”

Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank. 

Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.

But you don’t.

Fuck. 

And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.” 

He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now. 

“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?” 

And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.” 

“Oh.”

Then the movie is unpaused. 

---

The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today. 

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.

Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway. 

The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.

“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-

Ding!

Ah, there. 

You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…

Satoru. 

Speaking a mile a minute.

Satoru.

“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”

“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms. 

What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life. 

But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned. 

Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.

It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.

Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.

“You loser.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-

That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”

“Huh?”

You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.” 

Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”

“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you. 

Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt. 

“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”

“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you. 

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.

“Toru!”

“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”

And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”

“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”

It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist. 

And it’s sloppy.

Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.

“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”

It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”

The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.

“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”

A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.

And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?” 

Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.

You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.

And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.

“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?” 

“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”

So goading. So like you. 

At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”

Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so. 

“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”

And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-

“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots. 

“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”

He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually. 

But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit. 

“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”

It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?

“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene. 

“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?” 

You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully. 

“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out. 

Like you were about to snap. Any second now. 

But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…”  Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”

You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt. 

You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.

Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours. 

“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”

And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”

It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection. 

And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous. 

“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.” 

And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.” 

He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”

Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.

At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.” 

He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch. 

“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”

And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”

“You have no idea.”

That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag. 

Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.” 

And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact. 

“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”

“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.  

Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-

“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”

And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps. 

Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling. 

“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-” 

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.

Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”

You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-” 

He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll. 

“That’s more like it.”

You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.  

Deep. Ruthless.

“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”

You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”

But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.

“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”

“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”

You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt. 

He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.” 

Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”

“Still not convinced.”

But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”

“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”

“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.

Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.  

And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white. 

Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.

“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.

“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”

Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.

“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”

“Well, only one way to find out~”

“Oh shut up you-”

SLAM!

“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”

There were only two more lessons to be learned:

Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family. 

Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.

A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?

Plagiarism not authorized.

filth teaches filth

warnings/tags: minors DNI, f. reader, DUB-CON, age gap (10 years), underage (for a time), unreliable narrator, depressed!reader but we never address it, oblivious!reader, naive!reader, icky!Gojo, freak!Megumi, Royal!AU, ward!reader, adoptive father!Suguru, pseudo-incestuous vibes, obsessive!Gojo, obsessive!Megumi, sexual deviancy, hinted somnophilia, isolation, murder, forced intimacy, these tags are not exhaustive. word count: tba summary: In the ten years you've been married to Gojo Satoru, you can count on one hand how many times you've seen him. With the end of the war, your dear husband has made his way back to your side, intent on winning your affections. Well, winning them is a formality. You're his wife. There's not much you can do to escape your fate.

if all goes well, the chapters should be relatively short (~500 - 2.5k words) and not necessarily in chronological order (this is subject to change bc...I am not a good planner lmfao). it's an AU that has been heavy on my mind <3

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

divider by @/saradika

「 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞) . . . ⇢ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 」

masterlist post for my zombie apocalypse gojo x reader au ! :3

⋆ links !! ꒰ fic playlist ꒱ ✧ ꒰ au tag ꒱ ´ˎ˗ 

✦ ・ 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞) ⊹ sfw !!

wc: 17.5k ⊹ there’s never any time to think about your feelings for each other when you’re so focused on ensuring that you both live to see another day

genres included: slowburn, angst with a happy ending, descriptive violence

⋆ extra fics *ೃ༄

𖥸 ─ 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ⊹ nsfw !!

wc. tbd ⊹ you and satoru finally get some alone time

genres included: fluff + smut, first time together

𖥸 ─ 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜 ⊹ sfw !!

wc. tbd ⊹ the fated moment you and satoru lost your friends

genres included: angst, descriptive violence, minor character death

𖥸 ─ 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐜 ⊹ sfw !!

wc. tbd ⊹ you ask satoru the hardest question ever

genres included: heavy angst, major character death

Pretty writers please can you feed me more nerdjo works of arts please ? I need them to breathe.

virgin!satoru whimpers when you sink down on his cock for the first time.

his lengthy cock is just so sensitive, used to the feeling of his own hand wrapped around it. however, it does not live up to the feeling of your convulsing walls that are generously squeezing oh so deliciously around him. your slick, puffy folds meet his base as he bottoms out inside you and he can barely stop himself from cumming.

i mean, can you really blame him?

satoru's hips jerk up, head falling back, and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth. he grabs at your hips—desperately so—and kneads at the pliant skin, trying to find anything to ground himself from the euphoric bliss your cunt was giving him.

his fat tip's pushing against the gummy spot inside you, nudging your cervix with a needy twitch. you grind your hips down agonizingly slowly, pressing a hand down against his abdomen to keep him still.

he whines in response and fuck does he sound pretty when he does.

"puh—lease..." satoru begs, his neck craning to try kiss your glossy, spit-covered lips.

"poor s'toru... do you need me that bad?" you purr, dragging a tongue across his bottom lip, continuing to teasingly roll your hips before raising them up just enough for his cock to almost slip out. almost.

you sink back down on him, taking in his cunt drunk expression, repeating the same motion over and over and over until you're bouncing up and down on his dick. you can feel each individual vein on it, especially the one on the underside of his cock which throbs every time you clench.

satoru tries really hard to keep himself from moving, he really does, but he can't take how good your weeping pussy feels around him.

he plants his feet on the bed and eagerly thrusts up into you, using his grip on your hips to guide your movements on top of him. his tongue lolls out and he sits up a bit to suck on one of your nipples, bringing a hand up to fondle your other tit as you ride him. the sounds are absolutely filthy.

plap plap plap!

your ass smacks against satoru's heavy, aching balls with each sloppy thrust of his hips meeting yours.

even as satoru empties ropes and ropes of cum inside of you, your walls quivering in tandem with his relentless, unapologetic thrusts, you only find yourself on your back as he fucks you deep into the mattress, showing no signs of stopping.