󠁇

“you’re really gonna make me leave baby?” he’s frowning. frowning like a child while he stands by your apartment door as you’re actively trying to shove him out. “i brought flowers.” he looks over to them on your table, sitting in a vase he brought with a sappy note attached to it. he looks back at you with puppy eyes to try and convince you further.

“yes, i am.” you just keep on pushing him trying to hurry him out your door but making next to no progress. you know you’ll win eventually though. you guess in about 5 minutes you’ll compromise and say he can actually kiss you next time if he leaves. “i’m not looking for a relationship right now, gojo. i don’t need you all fawny over me. now leave.”

his lips quiver like they’re about to cry. his hands even grip harder on the change of clothes he brought incase you’d let him sleepover this time and the fabric scrunches beneath his touch.

“so you’re just using me for my body?” he knows damn well you are. for gods sakes you met him at a bar and had told him you just wanted rebound dick from your last breakup. his other hand pushes on the door frame, steadying him and rendering him completely still. you stop pushing at this point. he’ll leave eventually.

“you’re a great person ,” you feel like you’ve said this before, and by his hurt face it looks like he has too, unfortunately now seeing it from the other side. “but i can’t deal with all this mopey shit. i have work, bills—”

“i can pay them!” he suggests, perking up like that’s the only word he heard. “or you could move in with me!” he’s back to that prince charming smile you can just tell he abused back in college.

“that’s not it, gojo—”

“i love you,” he grabs your wrists, dropping his clothes he was holding, that were by your side and brings them up to his face, forcing you to cup his jaw. you stare up at him. “i can wait, sweetheart! i can—i really can!” he’s like a child trying to convince their mother they won’t act too crazy on sugar.

he stays going off on a tangent now, gripping your wrists even tighter unconsciously.

“i-i can buy you anything. my friends would love you—especially utahime, you hate me like her i guess. i already give you good dick, i mean you were just moaning not to long ago—” you start to drown him out.

“—just one date. if you really do hate me you can slap me after it, just let me try. please? don’t be so cold hearted, baby.”

“gojo,” he looks disappointed already, like he’s anticipating a terrible answer. “come here.” you gesture with your hands for him to lean closer. you plop a delicate, just barely there, chaste kiss on his cheek. “go home.” you deadpan.

he’s balls deep in you, and yet of course he’s still spouting stupid bullshit.

“i’m doing good, right baby?” he moans (moreso whimpers), still thrusting in that half-romantic half-what it’s actually supposed to be—a hookup—rhythm. his normally porcelain cheeks are completely flushed, his cool white hair falls in his face, some strands sticking to his forehead glistening in sweat.

“i—what?” you manage to say, still out of breath from how he’s fucking into you with his unfairly big cock. every perfect ridge and vein of it is dragging against your walls as he thrusts in and out of your sopping cunt—though you’ll deny how wet you are because of how large gojo’s ego will be if he knows he actually arouses you.

“say it.” he pouts above you, gripping harder on your shoulders he’s deemed a perfect leverage point in you to help with his strokes. “say i’m doing good… please?” his blue eyes pleading to you like a puppy dog.

“gojo, i’m not fucking doing th—” he shoves all the way back in and stops his thrusts. you moan without even meaning to from the sheer amount of girth being stuffed in you. he juts his lower lip out further, clearly upset by your answer.

“c’mon,” he looks physically pained as he restrains himself from continuing his thrusts. “just say it and i’ll keep fucking you.” he whines out, sounding a lot more weak and less intimidating than he thought he would.

you breathe out. you know he’ll hold on to this for the rest of the foreseeable future but you’re close anyway. you’ll come then kick him out like always and if next time he keeps mentioning it, you’ll just stuff his face with your pussy.

“you’re doing so good, gojo.” you moan out in a shaky voice.

he moans, loudly, near pornographic, and he gets back to thrusting immediately, except he seems more motivated. his strokes are fasting and more like he’s trying to impress you. his sounds are more desperate and huffy than before.

he reaches around your waist to hug you closer and shove his face deep in your neck, right below your ear.

“haaah, fuck, baby—say i’m the best you’ve ever had, please.”

“mm, god, gojo you’re the best i’ll ever fucking have.” he cries out. cries out and actually cries. tears start streaming down his pale face and cupping along your neck and collar bone where he’s found solace. he’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon.

unwantedly but admittedly, you say this next one yourself. it’s almost like you’re starting to… like him. ew.

“such a g’boy for me, satoru.” he nuts. immediately thick cum oozes into your pussy, spilling out from how overstuffed it already is with his girthy, oversized, genetic lottery winning cock. his whole body shakes and shivers while he releases, still trying to thrust so you could finish like the good boy he is.

unfortunately he forgets he’s not god and ends up overstimulating the hell out of himself by the time he gets you to cream by his thumb pressing along your clit.

he brings his head up, covered in sweat as he’s still shaking from the feeling of nutting the hardest he ever has.

He knows how much your education means to you, how determined you are to finish school before even thinking about walking down the aisle, and he’s never once pushed. Not seriously, at least.

But the moment you casually introduce him as your husband to your professor after unexpectedly running into them at a quiet restaurant, everything changes.

The word hangs in the air longer than you expect. Gojo freezes for half a second before slowly turning to look at you, surprise melting into something dangerously pleased.

He takes no time to bring it up to you later; “Husband, huh?,” a crooked smirk tugging at his lips. He laces his fingers with yours and gives your hand an excited squeeze, like he’s just been handed a prize. “I like the sound of that.”

“Toru, don’t make a big deal out of it,” you mutter, heat creeping up your neck as you avoid his gaze. “It just… felt natural.”

His grin only widens, eyes softening despite the teasing glint still there. “Yeah?” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Then maybe it’s not as far away as you think.”

———-

The next morning, you wake up with a weight draped over you.

An arm is slung around your waist, long legs tangled with yours, and warm breath ghosts against the back of your neck. Gojo hums contentedly in his sleep, pulling you closer the moment you shift even an inch.

“Toru,” you whisper, trying to wiggle free. “I need to get up.”

“Nope,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. His grip tightens. “My wife doesn’t have class today.”

You freeze. Slowly, you turn your head. “Your what?”

One blue eye peeks open, lazy and mischievous. “Oops. Slipped out.”

You smack his arm lightly, cheeks burning. “You’re having way too much fun with this.”

“Just practicing, you know.” He grabs onto you, tugging you back into his embrace.

He smiles into your hair, already waiting for the future where “practice” turns into a promise.

satoru groaned, feeling a sharp pain erupt in his mouth. he pointed at his lips in indication that it was braces that were hurting him.

it’s been a while since he’s properly kissed you as well. not like it’d be enjoyable with the way his lips kept getting chapped every other minute. he was already a geek but his braces didn’t help his nerdy appearance.

“aw,” you coo’ed, gently cupping his cheeks in your hands. “they’re hurting?”

the white haired boy nodded, desperately wanting to smash his mouth against yours. whenever he even tried pouting out for a peck, the pain would begin again.

“wanna kiss you..”

“yeah?” his eyes flickered down your plump lips. god, he missed them. “let me do all the work then.” you offered.

you leaned down to press a gentle kiss at the corner of his lips, causing him to whine. “more..” he begged.

“don’t be greedy.”

your tongue darted out to lick away at the dryness before kissing him right in the middle. “does it hurt?”

satoru shook his head, gripping your waist tightly as he chased after your once you pulled away. “thank you love.”

you hummed, caressing his lips with your thumb. “brought you some ice cream. hopefully that’ll numb down the pain.”

Satoru Gojo is built like a fucking tank and it’s no exaggeration—broad-shouldered, firm, and heavy. Built with a density that makes the air around him feel thin. It’s most obvious when he’s fresh from the gym, black compression shirt stretched over his frame, tracing the hard line of his chest and the way his biceps coil with the slightest twitch of his fingers.

It’s why you keep baiting him into these meaningless little skirmishes—soft provocations just to feel the sheer, overwhelming force of him. To let him catch your wrists and remind you exactly how easily he can fold you into the floor.

Your lungs burn already. You’re shoving, palms flat against the unyielding fabric of his shirt, straining until your muscles shake. But it’s useless. There’s a pronounced imbalance in physical strength, not that you’re complaining (obviously), but he could at least pretend there isn’t and budge a little, for the sake of your dignity.

“Shit, ‘toru,” you grunt, the words squeezed out of your chest. “How much… do you even weigh? Feels like im trying to push a fuckin’ sumo wrestler off me or some shit.”

satoru gojo was many things, and patient was not one of them.

"do you know how long it takes to push out a baby?" he asked curiously as he paced the waiting room. nanami ignored him and continued reading one of the magazines from the table beside him. shoko had rushed you to the hospital earlier after you went into labor. you kicked satoru out of the room after the third hour, claiming his "nervous energy" was contagious.

as nanami flipped to the next page, satoru glanced over his shoulder.

"are you seriously reading a magazine about the best kinds of bread?"

still, no response. "your potential goddaughter is being born and you're focused on how to perfectly butter your bread?! unbelievable." satoru crossed his arms and looked away in disgust.

after a beat, nanami flipped the page and said, "sometimes i can't believe you're older than me. you're like an insufferable child on a road trip constantly asking 'are we there yet' until one of the parents, or both, loses their mind."

he pushed his glasses up his nose and sighed deeply, muttering to himself about age not correlating with maturity.

now it was satoru's turn to ignore him. he tapped his foot anxiously, waiting for an update from the doctor.

finally, a woman in a white coat approached them.

"excuse me, are you...." she looked down at her clipboard. "... satoru gojo?"

"yes. is she okay? is the baby okay? it's a girl right? it better be a gir-"

"they are both are doing well. and yes, she had a girl,” she confirmed, nodding and offering them a small smile. "follow me."

satoru scrambled up from his seat and followed the doctor to your room. there you were, holding your newborn daughter, grinning from ear to ear. you looked tired but happy, glowing as you beamed down at your daughter.

"you're okay!" satoru rushed over and gave you a bone crushing hug.

"satoru—careful. she’s fragile, she’s barely been alive five minutes,” shoko warned.

“yes, we’re okay,” you chuckled, your smile reaching your eyes.

satoru pulled away and looked down at the baby in your arms.

dark, long lashes and big beautiful blue eyes with chubby cheeks and a tiny nose. she was perfect.

"can i hold her?" he asked softly. you nodded, startled by his sudden shift in tone. he gently lifted her out of your arms and held her close to his chest.

"hello there, i'm your dad." she grabbed his finger with her chubby hand and he melted. "you're the most beautiful baby i've ever seen," he whispered, voice breaking. satoru blinked rapidly, trying to hide the way his eyes shimmered.

nanami, standing near the foot of the bed, muttered, “well, at least she won’t inherit your personality.”

you laughed weakly, shaking your head. “don’t jinx it.”

shoko wrinkled her nose, “that would be awful.”

satoru glanced up, smiling through damp lashes. “are you kidding? she’s going to be just like me. strong, brilliant, gorgeous—”

“—and exhausting,” nanami cut in flatly, but his eyes softened at the sight of the newborn.

satoru ignored him, lowering his voice as he pressed his forehead gently to his daughter’s. “but most importantly… you’re mine. and i’m never letting you go.”

the baby cooed softly, her tiny fist still wrapped around his finger, and for once, satoru was quiet.

"can i try it?" he asked, perched right on the edge of the bed.

"try what?"

his eyes trailed down to your chest, lingering on the heavy shape of them under your shirt, then flicked back to your face. "sucking your tits."

"baby, i'm not sure. i'm still leaking and they're crazy sensitive."

"i'll be careful, i promise... just wanna taste it."

before you could even get a word out, he was already moving in, settling right between your legs. his head was level with your chest, tucked between your thighs, taking up all the space. "come on, babe, show me my pretty girls."

you rolled your eyes but pulled up your white top anyway, making him let out a low, gravelly groan. there they were — heavy and swollen, way bigger since the pregnancy, with hard, dark nipples and a little wet spot where the milk was already soaking through.

"damn, baby..." he rasped. "wanted this for so long."

at first, he just swiped his tongue over the wet patch, licking up the drops with slow, teasing circles around the nipple. then his lips suddenly clamped down. he took the whole thing into his mouth, sucking you in almost to the areola.

"tooru!" you yelped, arching your back. "easy!"

but he didn't hear you. he was sucking so hard, pulling the milk out like he'd freaking die if he didn't get every last drop right that second. you felt the rhythmic, heavy tugging and heard him gulping it down, totally obsessed.

he groaned right against your skin, his whole body shaking, and then popped his lips off your nipple with a loud, wet smack.

"so fucking sweet," he breathed out. his lips were all shiny, and his breath scorched your nipple, making it pop even harder. he kept switching between quick licks and sharp, tight tugs, creating this crazy, pulling pressure deep inside.

right then, he noticed milk starting to drip from your other breast, messing up your skin.

"it's goin' to waste," he groaned and moved to the second one even hungrier. he was acting like a total addict — his tongue was darting all over the areola, catching every single drop, and then he clamped down on the nipple, sucking so hard the room filled with wet, messy sounds. he literally buried his face in you, getting white streaks all over his cheeks.

he squeezed both your breasts with his hands, jamming them together so the nipples were side by side. he covered both at once with his mouth, biting and sucking them at the same time.

"mmm-gh!" he felt his mouth fill up instantly with warm milk. he swallowed greedily, almost choking on the taste, and sometimes he'd pull back on purpose, tugging your nipples with his teeth, stretching them out before sucking back in.

you clawed at his white hair, gasping for air. "too... nngh... it's too much! ah-mmm! tooru!"

he pulled away for a sec, and in the dim light, you saw a thin, sticky string of spit and milk stretching between his lips and your bright red nipple.

"shhh, baby." he nipped the hard tip with his teeth right away, making you yelp.

his hips moved on their own. sitting between your legs, he started rubbing his hard cock against the mattress, back and forth, groaning low. he went back to your chest, tossing his head side to side without letting go of the nipple. "mmm-ffh... want more milk... give me more baby," he mumbled. his chin was literally soaked, drops dripping down his neck and ruining his clothes. then he looked up at you with those huge, clouded-over doe eyes.

"wanna use some for my coffee."

cw: smut, piv, porn w/ a lil plot, breeding kink, established marriage.

...and it's not because he doesn't want to, oh no. this man wants nothing more than to bounce you on his cock like no tomorrow.

it's becoming increasingly aware to him that having a five year old daughter means a lot less 'bend over the wife and show her a good time' time.

so when your mother offers to take your daughter for a saturday night sleepover, satoru is over the moon. you both deserve a rest - and a good fuck. all of saturday feels like hell, satoru's cock aching to be inside you. so when you buckle up your little one and watch her grandmother drive her away for the night, he's on you in seconds.

soon enough, you're grinding your soaked panties against his sweats on the couch, clothed cock leaking through his pants, the wet stain and bulge pushing against your puffy clit, the barrier between you two making the both of you so much needier.

"nngh- 'toru!" his hands guide and encourage your grinds, little groans leaving him, in sync with your needy whimpers.

"fuck, baby, missed you s'much. that's my girl - just like that, shit-" you mouth at his neck, whining: "need your cock, need it s'bad, can't cum w'out it-" and once he can't take it, he lifts you up, carrying you bridal style to your shared bedroom before plopping you down on the bed and crawling on top of you, ridding you of your clothes feverishly. before long, he has you sitting naked on his lap, cock prodding your entrance as he rubs mind numbingly slow circles on your clit, your hands in his hair as he mouths at your chest, sucking your tits like he'll die if he stops.

"'toru, p-please, fuck me... ohhh..." his lips around the perky buds of your nipples felt so good, your body so much more sensitive and responsive after not being fucked for at least a month. "so needy for me, gorgeous." he teases you, but doesn't waste any time reaching for his cock between your legs, lining it up with your tight hole before pulling you down by your waist, tears pricking at how big satoru feels inside you.

"jesus christttt. so fucking tight. you can take it, baby." satoru's blue eyes look into yours - or at least, what was open of yours, the feeling of his cock inside you making them roll back into your head - his voice gently praising you as he bounced you himself, marking up your tits and making you whine so loudly.

"that's it, gorgeous, say my name f'me? please? tell the neighbours who's makin' you feel this good." his cheeks are flushed red, hands roaming your waist, your next cry making his cock swell inside you.

"toru! ohh- toru, you are- only you can!" your pace starts to stutter, and satoru makes the move to roll you onto your stomach, pulling your hips toward him, ass up in the air.

your pussy is clenching around the memory of his dick, dripping in slick and satoru's precum. you bury your face in the pillow, drooling all over it. his cock slides excruciatingly slow into you, every vein pushing against your most sensitive spots. "yeah? shit- love this pussy. wan' me to get you pregnant again, huh? wanna give our princess a sibling? god- ngh- sweet little wife- answer me." his hand reaches over to slap your drooling cheek, to which to nod and ramble nonsensically.

"yes! hhm- fuckkkk! wan' your kid, 'toru!! wan' another- get me pregnant- nnghhh, m'gonna cum, shit, gonna cum s'hard!"

"yeah? do it. cum all over my cock."

your throat tears out a guttural moan, back arching as your pussy clenches around his dick, hot liquid spraying out around it, soaking your thighs and his, plus the cotton sheets. "oh, good girl, such a good girl- ngh, shit, gonna fill you up-" his balls tighten, hot, sticky cum painting your walls, excess spilling out and dripping onto your inner thighs. you let out one more moan before collapsing, satoru holding you and helping you lay down, him staying inside you. he kisses the nape of your neck.

"take a rest, gorgeous. gonna need it before we go again. i'm cumming in this sweet pussy till it takes."

a/n: not proofread don't flame me <3

© an original work by bbunnii.

୨୧ Sex ban on your husband, Satoru, has him more desperate than ever [18+]

“Aaah— please, baby, let me—”
“No.”

You stand your ground firmly. You were enforcing a sex ban on your husband, Gojo. Was a sex ban really necessary? Probably not. He forgot you were spending a day out with friends since you left before he woke up, and you were just taking soo loonngg to get back home. You two usually had sweet, gentle, lazy sex in the mornings to start your day off on the right foot. But you thought he looked so peaceful asleep, you didn’t want to wake him before you left. How were you supposed to know how pent up you’d be leaving him?

It was 4 PM, and you were still out. Poor Satoru just couldn’t take it anymore. He whipped out his phone to take a video of him palming at his aching cock, moaning like a whore into the mic.

You saw the notification pop up on your phone and thought nothing of it, assuming it was just an innocent video from your husband. How was Satoru supposed to know you’d be around your friends when you opened it? With the volume dialed all the way up too, although that one’s on you.

“You didn’t think to give me a heads up first?!” you shouted at Satoru when you came home, who just pouted like a puppy as he accepted your scolding.

Fast forward three days to the current moment, you were in no mood to have sex with him. Well. You were. But you were being stubborn, as per usual. He had already apologized and everything. You weren’t really sure why you were still enforcing a sex ban on your lovely husband. Your lovely husband who was rock hard just at the sight of you sitting across from him on the couch. Your lovely husband who was massaging your feet, trying to get on your good side.

Fuck.

He was so hard.

And you were so horny.

But again, so stubborn.

Maybe if you just….

You scoot your foot closer to his crotch, slightly rubbing your toe against the outline of his tip. It had been three days since you touched his cock. You missed it.

You tried to act nonchalant. Like this wasn’t intentional. Like you weren’t trying to rile him up. You’d pull your foot away every few seconds, pretending to be more focused on your phone than you were on him.

You’d slowly graze your foot against his base, all the way back up to his tip. Then move away. Repeat.

Satoru caught on instantly. Did you think he was born yesterday or something?

However, he didn’t want to spook you by acting too fast. He’d thrust up ever so carefully against your touch. When you’d graze your foot against his tip, he’d lean into it.

More.

And more.

And more.

You’d grown less careful yourself, not caring about subtlety.

“Baby… can I?” he looked over to you with those big blue eyes, hovering his hands above your ankle.

You nod, not exactly sure what he was asking or what you were agreeing to, but you think you get the gist of it.

He grabs your ankle with one of his hands and uses the other to position himself on the couch.

He leans into your foot, just grinding against it desperately.

“Mpphff— I love you. Fuucck—” he groans as he reaches his high, his pace growing faster and unsteady till eventually a wet spot forms in his sweatpants.

“Thank you.” he lets out a breathy sigh.

“That desperate, huh?” You try to look unaffected, as if your panties weren’t soaking from that little show Satoru put on. Like your pussy wasn’t aching with regret that you let him cum in those pants of his instead of cumming in you.

“Yeah. I missed you.”

Yeah, you’re a weak woman.

“Okay, you’re forgiven.”

He cocks his eyebrow up and gives you that infamous grin.

“Really? Just like that?” His voice teases.

“Take your pants off, Toru.”

“Anything for my wife.”

a/n: here’s the visual link that this was inspired by. It kept showing up on my feed so I fear I had to write something about it. Pls no foot fetish allegations, I just thought the video was hot🥲 I enjoy desperate men.

꒰ mdni ˎ you ate gojo's last pudding ; now you have to make it up to him ✧˖ 𐦯

🍮 ୧ ‧₊ gojo's annoyed at you... you can tell. maybe you deserve it... you did eat the last pudding of his but you had a craving and you didn't want to have to leave the house but now he's sulking and doing his best to stay annoyed with you.

it's the longest he's gone without breaking, a full hour having gone by where he's pretending you don't exist. grumpily watching the tv while you sit close by and feel guilty. not that guilty though, not guilty enough to apologise more than once.

he eats your treats all the time and you don't say anything about it, though to be fair to him he does replace what he eats... for the most part.

you don’t like when he’s cranky, you’re not great at sitting idly by when you know you’ve upset someone. lucky for you, you have a fool proof plan to distract him into forgiving you.

"satoru," calling to him softly.

he doesn't look at you and you shuffle in closer, still he doesn't turn to you. not until he sees the movement out the corner of his eye. you've lifted your shirt to flash him, tits on full display as a peace offering.

"is this your way of trying to make it up to me?" he asks like he's unimpressed but he's staring without shame.

your head tilts at him, "is it working?"

"no." he's still staring. he's also moved in a little closer.

"then i guess not," you shrug, going to pull your top back down.

"wait, wait," holding up a hand to stop you, "give it a little longer and it might."

"no," sighing, "you're right, there's just no making it up to you. i shouldn't have eaten the last pudding."

gojo's officially not listening, hands on your tits and groping at you. face coming down to nuzzle between them, leaving soft pecks and small licks to your skin. "uh huh," he hums offhandedly.

going to say something and cut off by a moan, his finger and thumb playing with your nipple. fondling you happily, trailing his mouth to the peak of your breast and taking your nipple in. tongue flicking against the sensitive bud to make you twitch. he's enjoying himself immensely.

you thread your fingers into his hair and pull him back, "do you forgive me?"

he leans his head against your sternum, smiling up at you, "tell you what," he grins wider, mischievous, "if you let me eat you, i'll think about accepting your apology."

his genes didn't even try. not a speck of white in his baby girl's hair, not a sliver of crystal blue in her eyes. she's all you—from the eyes to the nose to the laugh. good lord, satoru has been blessed by the gods.

he fell in love with her the moment the doctor handed you the little bundle of joy. and when he first carried her? you just laugh at the way he almost melts to the floor.

everytime he gets home from missions, he goes straight to where you're playing with mini you. his daughter giggles upon seeing her dad. he crashes on top of the two of you, careful not to squish neither of you. first and foremost, he kisses you. then, the baby. then back to you, then back to her—it goes on and on until you go and tell him to shower.

at night when your daughter makes a fuss, it's satoru who gets up and soothes her. he carries her over to your shared room, lays her in the space between, and talks to her about anything—his latest mission, his students, her big brother megumi, how the two of you met, his bestfriend suguru, her uncle nanami, her aunt shoko.

all the while, his baby listens earnestly, eyes wide and curious like yours. she even responds sometimes! no, she can't talk yet, but she's already a good listener.

"maybe we should take you to see uncle suguru. do you miss him? who do you miss more, him or papa?"

"ah."

"there's only one answer to that. why are you hesitating?" he pokes her cheek, and holds back the urge to bite and chomp.

"ba.."

"papa? yes! that's right. you miss papa more, right?"

"ma!"

satoru gasps dramatically, "mama? you're already with her 24/7!" your baby grins, and he's in awe by how much of you he sees in her.

he picks her up with ease, and settles her on top of him. he glances at your sleeping form, "you look like your mom, you know?"

your baby also glances at you, one hand reaching out before satoru grabs her little wrist and holds it to his chest. "mama's sleeping. she's tired, we need to let her rest."

your daughter babbles, "ma-ma-ma."

"yes, mama. you look like mama. that means you're also pretty and beautiful." he kisses her cheek.

"pi. pi!"

satoru nods in understanding, acting like your baby just said something revolutionary. "yes. pretty. that's you," he pinches her nose, she huffs. "and mama. my pretty girls."

"when you grow up, you need to marry someone who'll preach your beauty like how i do to your mom, okay? never date a boy who doesn't tell you how beautiful you are every passing day." satoru whispers, eyes locked onto an identical pair to yours.

his daughter only yawns in response, dropping her head into his sternum. satoru adjusts her so she's laying on her back in the middle of you two. instinctively, your baby wiggles around, searching for your warmth in her sleep. satoru only sighs with a smile. what a velcro baby he's raising.

satoru gojo is quite literally the worst person on earth to try and have a silent treatment with.

of course, he knows you’re mad, he knows he fucked up - but he also knows that if he can make your life "unbelievably" inconvenient, you’ll eventually have to break the silence just to tell him to stop.

here's the thing; you haven’t spoken to him in twelve hours.

you are a fortress of solitude, him?

he is a persistent, white-haired fly that cannot be swatted away because of his infinity or maybe a mosquito; sucking your energy out instead of blood.

he realised (unfortunately he is capable of realising things) that as long as you are self-sufficient, you can keep ignoring him. therefore, he must delete your ability to function.

it's 9am, you wake up and try to get out of bed - you can't.

no, not because he’s holding you, but because he has lowered the friction of the floor around your bed to exactly zero; you try to step down and your foot just slides back like you’re on the world’s most invisible ice rink.

satoru is sitting in the corner, casually reading a magazine upside down, doesn't say a word. he just watches you glide helplessly back onto the mattress. 0-1.

Comic by @baobei-bu TYSM FOR LETTING ME WRITE THIS!! 3.5k

⚠️: Perv!Satoru x Sorcerer!Reader, Hentai Logic, Porn w Minimal Plot, Smut, Filthy use of Jujutsu, CNC (It’s Tentacles), MeanDom!Satoru, Outfit like Shoko’s Sorcerer Uniform, P in V, Oral (M!receiving), Anal, Marathon + Rough Sex, Creampie, Morally Grey, Manipulation, Tummy Bulge, Size Kink, Dacryphilia, Needy Satoru, Degradation, Praise, Baby-trapping, Double & Triple Penetration, FILTHHHHH, Rushed Ending (Ran Out of Ideas) NOT PROOFREAD

Taglist: @1stmagnoila @koriknowsball @jinjen @elegantmakercoffee (comment 2 b added)

Satoru’s so cute & twisted ! I hope you enjoy my ovu fic :D

Satoru’s been begging you to take a stroll with him for hours. He says he just wants to spend time with you, his bestest friend, but you know he has something up his sleeve. It’s written in the knowing grin that adorns his perfect face.

“Please, angel! Just for THIRTY minutes. It’s breezy out, and I can hold you close to keep you warm! We can’t waste this perfectly good weather!” He pouts.

You ignore him even as he hugs you from behind, pecking at your neck and down to your collar. He tugs on the small skirt of your uniform, now nipping on your skin. You swat him away and take a step forward. Then, you cross your arms, turning to raise your eyebrow at the overgrown manchild.

“Are you a dog or a man, Satoru?” You mock.

He smirks. “Anything you want me to be, baby.” Satoru flashes you his pretty pearly whites followed by a condescending—perhaps a bit playful, wink.

You roll your eyes, think it over, and finally sigh.

“Ten minutes.” You glare. “That’s all you get.”

The white-haired man grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and drags you to a car that’s been parked upfront since Satoru started talking. “I thought we were going to walk?”

“We are, but I know a spot, and Ijichi’s going to take us there.” He giggles like a kid with a menacingly stupid plan.

Looking back, it made you a little bit suspicious—Satoru giggling and all that crap. However, it also made you reeeeeeeaaal curious.

On the way to the “spot,” you let Satoru trail his restless fingers on your body. He kept poking, squeezing, and pulling on your flesh like a working adult playing with a stress toy. You tell him off and swat his hands away when he does too much, but the bastard only pouts and leaves a peck on the reddened skin and continues with his ministrations.

You’re well aware that it’s been over ten minutes, but you don’t mind. Instead, you curl up next to Satoru, sleeping soundly against his side.

Now that he can’t annoy you, he turns his attention over to Ijichi, making sure not to move too much as to not disturb your rest.

“Ijichi-kun! She’s so pretty, no?”

In his mind, he panics. Was this a mind game or a real question? The poor boy responds with a very awkward smile. “Very pretty, Gojo-san!” He says with pure honesty.

“Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!!” Satoru cheers. Then, he yells, “Oh wait, we’re here!”

Ijichi stops abruptly, and Satoru catches you before you fall. You wake up because of the sudden movement, annoyance written all over your face.

“What’s going on?” You ask, yawning softly. An of course, before answering, Satoru fawns over your pretty face, giving the apple of your cheek a soft kiss.

For the nth time today, he smiles. “We’re here!”

Looking out the window, you’re met with a foggy forest in, seemingly, the middle of nowhere. “Where exactly is ‘here’?”

He shrugs. “Not important, let’s go!” The door of the ridiculously expensive car flings open, and everything happens too fast.

“Satoru!” You yelp as he tugs you out, waving goodbye to Ijichi as he pulls you into the creepy woods.

This is where he wants to walk? Not even a park or a flowery meadow? What the hell is Satoru up to?

Leaves crunch beneath your shoes as thick fog blocks your vision. It’s chilly, which raises the goosebumps on your skin. Of course, Satoru notices.

“You okay, pretty? Sense somethin’?”

“N—No… do you?” You ask, confused. Were you supposed to be sensing a curse? Is this supposed to be a mission?

“Yes, I do.” My raging boner. He snickers to himself. “But you have to give it a try, pretty.”

Your senses seem both heightened and nullified at the same time. It’s a weird mix, and you don’t know what to do. On one hand, you’re compelled to run; on the other, you know that Satoru would save you no matter what. Do you just let things happen or do you blast the fuck out of here?

You choose the former, staying close to the tall man as you tremble in the air that still feels wintry. Your breath puffs out in white, which makes Satoru smile. He hugs you close to his side, seeing you trembling tugs at his heartstrings. He holds your hand, giving you a comforting smile as you look up at him. “Why’re we here, ‘Toru…?” You question. “Tell me the truth.”

“But who said I was lying? What if I just wanted to—”

“Satoru!”

He sighs. “Fine, fine…” He pouts. “You’re such a killjoy, pretty.”

You only glare.

“I have a mission here ‘is all…”

The fog makes you feel hazy, weird, and heavy. “Then why’d you want me to come? You’re more than capable of handling a mission yourself.” You ask, barely keeping yourself upright.

“Because I want you to cu—” Before Satoru could finish, the ground opens up to reveal a cave of amethyst-like tentacles. It grabs his leg but leaves yours. Soon enough, he is nowhere to be found on the surface.

“Satoru!” You yell, this time, more concerned than anything. First, you try and survive, sobering up from the heavy clouds you’re sure is infested. You run away from the long slimy suckers that chased after your form as fast as you can. “Ijichi! Call for help!” You shout, hoping the bespectacled gentleman could hear.

You round the crater made by the curse and try to reach for Satoru, but you couldn’t see him nor was he making any noise. Suddenly, another hole erupts from underneath the pile of leaves, and you push yourself back. Unfortunately for you, the curse easily caught on despite your mid-air curve.

Purple tentacles immediately claim its stake on your lips, arms, stomach, and legs. From a distance, you hear Satoru yell. “Help!” Panic shoots up your chest. You immediately squirm, trying to release yourself from the suctioned trap to no avail.

“Satoru!” You squeal, muffled because of the stupidly large appendage on your mouth.

“Help!”

The tentacles loosen and you fall through the cracks. A high-pitched scream escapes your mouth as you’re dropped. You try to use your technique, but the purple slime left on your hands made you feel a little bit funny.

You’re caught by the purple limbs before hitting anything else. Now, facing below you, you’re met with a smiling Satoru, who seems to be enjoying and not at all in grueling pain.

“Finally, baby. I was worried you’d never make your way here.” He says as the tentacles fold your calves to your thighs, spreading your legs wide.

“Why the hell were you screaming for help?!” You huff.

“Help me undress.” He grins.

“You’re insufferable.” You scoff.

“And you’re tied up… like a rope bunny.”

Your eyes widen. “Excuse you?!”

“What? I’m just calling it as it is!” He laughs.

You thrash around, depleting your much needed energy. “I’m going to bite your dick off Satoru Gojo!”

That same lazy smirk sits on his face without a care in the world about what you do or say. “Please do, baby.”

“What is wrong with you?!”

He shrugs. “You.” He teases. “But anywaysssss, I have a joke, baby girl.”

“A joke?” You sigh, knowing you literally have nothing else to do but wait for Ijichi to realize that you’re both not coming back to campus unless he sends help. “What the fuck is a joke going to—”

Satoru ignores your perfectly acceptable query. “How many tickles can you give a tentacle curse before it lets go?” He interjects.

You only look at him annoyed and confused.

His smile doesn’t falter. “Ten-tickles!” He laughs.

“Funny.” You deadpan.

“Of course it is, angel. Your beautiful, tall, and handsome ‘best friend’ said it!”

You roll your eyes. “What’s with the air quotes, loser?”

“‘Cause we’re more like soulmates really—cosmically attached. ESPECIALLY when my dick is inside you. Any hole works, really.”

Again, you roll your eyes as he used one of his long pale fingers to poke and tease the tentacles surrounding him. “But anyways, watch.” Slowly, the suckers unwrap his arms. “It relaxes the curse, y’know?” He lectures.

He does the same for his legs, fully freeing his large form. Then, his eyes shift to your face. “Hey, angel.” He says like you aren’t dangling on top of him like bait.

Your cheeks heat up as you feel something poking and prodding horrifically close to your aching dripping cunt. “Help me, Satoru…” You whimper as the tentacle wraps around the entirety of your thigh, slithering up as it plays with your pussy through the soft fabric of your stockings and panties.

The tip of the girthy limb twists on the damp spot of the cloth, and you let out a soft moan while trying to keep your gaze away from Satoru. However, like an absolute dick, he takes two fingers and lifts your chin, thumb rubbing condescendingly on your pretty skin. “No, baby. Keep your eyes on me, m’kay?”

“But…” You whine, feeling the growing pulse between your legs quicken and strengthen. “Sa-hah—Satoru…”

The man tuts, gently pecking your parted lips. “You’re so cute!” He chides.

“Please, ‘Toru…”

“Please what, pretty?”

“Please help me… hah—”

How the hell is he able to walk on those slimy restless suckers?! And how the fucking hell does he know its weaknesses?

Satoru looks down at you like a brilliant idea just popped up in his mind—eyes widening and body jutting like an emoticon. He smirks, and you immediately notice his bulge that’s a mere inch away from your face, such a vulgar scene, really.

“What are you doing, ‘Toru?” You ask shyly as he starts to palm his pre-dripping cock through the fabric of his uniform.

He groans, obviously worked up. “You know exactly what I’m doing, baby. Don’t act stupid, you aren’t on my dick yet.” His hand falls to the silver buckle of belt, loosening his pants in one click.

“Satoru!” You shriek.

The tentacle, still hasn’t stopped twisting against your heart, but at least it’s not your clit, right?

Well… now it is.

“Tell me what’s wrong, angel. I’ll fix it for ya.” Purple limbs now twist around your own, circling your appendages like they’re jacking your whole body off.

Pornographic moans echoes through the never ending chambers of the domain. You can’t even speak—pleasure and anxiety mixing to render you completely speechless. “I—jus… hah! Wanna… mmfhmeee! Fuck.”

“Mm, fucking doesn’t sound wrong, pretty.” He laughs, crouching down again to meet your eyes. “D’ya wanna fuck? I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

You whimper, watching his aura shift. The playful Satoru is nowhere to be seen. Now, you’re stuck in this cursed sex fantasy with your best friend (sometimes friends with benefits) and colleague turned sex-crazed pervert, Satoru Gojo! And fortunately unfortunately for you, he wants to do more with you right now than just exorcising this curse.

Finally, you spit out the words he’s been dying for. “Fuck! Please fuck me, Satoruuu!” You squeal, and he smiles.

“Hmm.. but I think I should use your mouth-pussy first, no? Fill your stomach up with my cum then your slutty cunt.” You look horrified as he speaks (horrified that he’s not going to insert his dick in your aching hole already). “You looked so disappointed, pretty. Maybe I’ll fuck you in the ass first before your pretty little pussy, no?“ He smirks.

He then points at your mouth mockingly. “First here.” Now, he points at your ass hole. “Then here.” Slowly, his fingers trace over your skin, playing with the folds of your dripping cunny through the soaked fabric that gives waaaaay too much away. With brute strength, he tears the stockings and hooks a finger under the pad of your panties to tug it to the side, exposing the puffy labia to the warm feel of his rough fingers. “Lastly, here. That’s one round each and three rounds total! ‘Think ya can handle that, baby?” He says like this is supposed to be a fair deal set in an office.

You shake your head all scared and pouty.

“Huh? Use your words, pretty girl. I can’t understand stupid mumblings from bimbos.” He says, snide as if he isn’t talking to you.

“I can’t, ‘Toru!”

“Aww, that’s no way to speak of your abilities, pretty…” He nudges the tentacles like he did before, freeing you from their hold. You land on the floor, if you can even call it that, with a soft thud, but the limb that keeps playing with your folds still won’t let up.

Satoru just stands, waiting for you to act first. You know what he wants, and he knows that you know it.

Tentacles from underneath wrap around your arms and legs again. This time, it doesn’t lift you up. You’re in a sitting position with a shaft underneath you and your face on par with Satoru’s hard on.

His hands are above his hips, waiting.

“C’mon, baby. Y’know ya want to.” He smirks.

You’re annoyed, but he’s not wrong. You want him to fuck you stupid.

“But what if we get caught?” You mumble.

“We won’t.” He says.

“How are you so sure?”

He crouches down to be at your eye level, one knee on the ground. “Because I planned this.” Again, he smirks. “I was here last week, about to exorcise this ‘sex fantasy’ curse, as the higher ups put it, but I wanted to try it out with you.”

“You’re such a pervert.” You huff.

He grabs you away from the horrendous appendages, and lays down, the suckers making a bed with an elevated head rest for him, this fucking jerk.

“If you had to look at someone as pretty as yourself 24/7 while she pounces on you every time she can, you’d do this too. It’s just a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart.”

“No, it’s not….” You pout, adjusting yourself on his abdomen. “I just like your warmth, pervert.”

“Oh? So you like this pervert’s warmth? Then, by the transitive property, you, too, are a pervert!”

“That’s not how that works.” You huff. “Stupid.”

Stupid, huh? He’ll show you stupid.

“Hm, well then.” He pushes you down, letting the tentacles latch back onto your skin as you slide down his body while purple suckers help him strip his pants off along with his dark boxers.

Now, his hard cock is right in front of you, waiting to be met by the warmth of your pretty mouth. “Suck.” He orders, and you follow. First came a fee kitten licks that already left the needy Satoru gasping for air. He may talk a big talk, but one touch from you and he’s toast.

Long pale fingers tangle in your hair, but he doesn’t push. “Fuck yeah—hah! You’re so good, pretty girl…” He says while you bob your head up and down his length.

As you’re preoccupied with Satoru’s girth, the curse rips your uniform right off, leaving your whole body drenched in the sticky purple fluid that seemed to negate your abilities.

You’re too pretty for him. It’s a wonder how you think he’s still pretty after seeing all his scars. Maybe if he gained more, you’d stop having sex with him for good. To keep himself from prematurely ejaculating, he thinks about who you’d choose if not him. Perhaps Kento Nanami, no? Tall, blond, jacked, kind, and kind of a pleaser—he’s probably your type. Or maybe you’d fully rebel and join Ryomen Sukuna and become his queen. You’d love that, right? A lavish life with blood shed just for your deepest darkest desires.

Unfortunately for him, those thoughts only serve to quicken his orgasm. Jesus, was he a fucking cuck?!

The white-haired nuisance keeps whispering your name like a prayer between hot breaths. He’s too far gone to even think of telling you that he’s about to cum. You’re just surprised when he finally pushes your head down, forcing you to swallow his salty seed. He doesn’t keep you down for long, he’s not a monster. Almost immediately, he lets up, throwing his head back as he pants, spurts of thick white cum still erupting from the slit of his mushroom tip.

It takes him a little longer than usual to catch his breath, so you get worried. “Are you okay, ‘Toru..?” You say in such a shy tone that the blood in his head rushes down to his dick once again. His shaft stands tall and proud, ready for the next hole Satoru decides to shove it in.

“Sorry… you jus’ felt so good, baby.”

Your cheeks are lightly dusted with pink, and it makes Satoru smile. “You’re filthy, ‘Toru…”

“Don’cha like that?”

“Not when we’re in public… or underground…”

“Why? Isn’t that the exciting part. I bet even your ass is leaking.” He laughs. Then, you yelp as the tentacles turn you around, spreading your legs and pointing your lower half towards the ceiling of barely visible amethyst limbs, successfully setting the ever so elegant pose—face down, ass up.

“No way…” You mumble. Was he really going to do this here? You seriously doubt this impatient slut put up a curtain. Surely, a random person could fall in at any time.

Satoru’s eyes feast on your dripping cunt and soaked ass hole. It’s most likely from your slick traveling all over your skin. Your juices make your folds glisten as if bathed in only the finest glitter. He smiles at the thought. After this, he’d have to bathe you in pure gold before you’d even think of forgiving him. He knows you’ll hold a grudge. Who wouldn’t?

He gets on his knees, aligning himself with your backdoor. Before going in, he removes his shirt, huffing about how hot it is.

“Ready, pretty?”

You nod, dreading the stretch, but you don’t feel the stinging pain. You shriek as he starts to move in and out, only to have your mouth defiled by the horrible tentacles that weirdly tasted like Satoru’s favorite perfume. Hm… maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Satoru and the curse move at confusing paces. It’s weird, it’s scary—it’s exciting.

Plap, plap, plap, plap !

Dirty squelching, whiny moans, and cute sniffles. That was all you could hear for an hour straight. Satoru’s switched positions, ejaculated inside you, and used up all of your sorry holes.

After he came and used your ass, Satoru laid you on your back and gave you the creampie you’ve been waiting for. His thrusts went deep and hard like he wanted to put a baby deep inside of you, and maybe that was the plan.

His words echo like broken promises in your mind. “You won’t leave me, yeah?” He rasped. “This pussy’s fuckin’ mine, right, baby?”

“Say yes, say yes for me, pretty girl…” He cooed. Fuck, just thinking about it got you wet again, and he could absolutely feel it. Your pussy clenched around him, and to no one’s surprise, he came more.

You thought, for sure, his balls would have already been emptied, but no. Satoru always has his cum ready for you! All for his sweet best friend, who he’s always kept at arms’ reach.

He doesn’t want you to leave like Suguru did, so maybe his dick will make you stay, no?

As he fucks the last of his seed into your womb, he plops onto the pile of purple limbs, tired. You fall onto his bare chest, spent.

“‘Toru…” You murmur.

“Yes, baby?”

“Is this really happening?” You ask as the darkness the surrounds you starts to dissolve.

You see a smirk creep up his face, and it makes your stomach whirl. Somehow, the two of you are back on the surface with clothes underwear and clothes on like nothing ever happened.

“I told you it was a sex fantasy curse, didn’t I?” He smiles as he stands, helping your wobbly legs stand up straight.

You lean on his chest to steady yourself, letting the large man intertwine his fingers with yours. “Aren’t you supposed to exorcise it?”

“Nah, it’s much more fun playing with it. Plus, it harms no one.” He shrugs. “We’ll just enjoy our little hookups a bit more than before.” He winks.

“We’re never doing that again.”

“Riiiiiight, sure. So you’re saying if I slide your panties to the side right now, your pussy’d be completely dry?”

“Well no—”

He places a finger on your mouth. “Yup, that’s all I needed to hear.” He says as he picks you up and peppers your face with a thousand kisses.

You giggle and he nuzzles his head onto your neck. Really? You’re this sweet with the guy who JUST rearranged your guts? Seriously?

“Though, I am really sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to hurt you, y’know that, right? Jus’ wanted us to have some fun, and you did have fun, yeah?”

Your cheeks heat up when you nod. What an embarrassing thing to admit!

He raises his hand and waves at Ijichi, calling the man, who has no idea about the absolute filth that had just happened, over. “I’ll take you back to the penthouse, pretty.” He kisses your cheek then your neck. “I’ll show you how sorry I am, okay?”

You nod almost immediately as if this whole act was an excusable offense. Wow, ‘guess you’re both just fucking freaks.

© wkbsrco, DO NOT repost/steal/copy/feed to AI

when satoru told you he was going to get haircut. you didn’t think he meant he’d be doing it himself.

he had locked himself in the bedroom for hours beforehand. so now . . after finally getting him to come out and show you, he ran past you instead. and now, you find yourself begging him to simply turn around.

“toru… it cannot be that bad, just let me see. please..?”

“no.”

the pout in his voice was evident, muffled slightly as he curled deeper into the bed, squishing pillows to either side of his head like a makeshift helmet.

if there was one thing satoru prided himself on that had nothing to do with his absurd strength or physique, it was his hair. soft porcelain white strands that framed his face just right.

in which Satoru catches his girlfriend calling him questionable names on a phone call

The rarest phenomenon in existence has occurred,

Satoru Gojo has a day off.

No missions. No students. No responsibilities tugging at him like needy little ghosts.

Just him,your couch and his audacity.

He’s sprawled like he pays rent (he does), one arm flung over his eyes, the other lazily draped across your lap. Every now and then he nudges you with his foot. Then your arm. Then your side. Not enough to be called annoying.

But enough to be noticed.

“Bored,” he mutters.

“You’ve said that six times.”

“Still bored.”

You glance down at him.

White hair messy. Shirt slightly wrinkled. Face unfairly pretty for someone doing absolutely nothing productive.

…And then it hits you.

A thought.

A terrible, beautiful, absolutely necessary thought.

Your lips twitch. He’s not the only one who can play jokes? Is he?

You pick up your phone,turning slightly away.

“Yeah, I’m free today,” you say, suddenly all casual, like this is a real call. “He’s here too. Unfortunately.”

Satoru’s arm shifts.

Unfortunately?

His hand drops from his eyes, and he squints at you, suspicious.

You don’t even spare him a glance.

“Yeah, albino monkey is just laying here doing nothing.”

He bolts upright.

“…WHAT?!”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“Hold on,” you murmur into your very fake call, “uncooked noodle just realized I’m talking about him.”

“Uncooked noodle?” he repeats, offended in ways science can’t measure.

Now he’s fully sitting up, staring at you like you’ve committed a personal betrayal.

You turn away slightly, lowering your voice like you’re sharing secrets.

“Yeah, he’s very clingy. Like, imagine a malfunctioning koala but taller and louder.”

His hand lands on your waist.

Firm.

Possessive.

“Who are you talking to?” he asks.

You wave him off.

“Wait— sweet sniffer is getting suspicious now—”

“That’s it. Give me the phone.”

He lunges.

You try to twist away, but he catches your wrist easily, fingers warm, grip careful but unyielding as he pulls the phone from your hand.

Triumph flashes across his face—

and then confusion.

The screen is black.

Silent.

Empty.

He looks at the phone. Then at you. Then back at the phone.

You finally break at his reaction.

Laughter spills out of you, bright and unstoppable as you grab his sleeve, collapsing into him.

“Awww,” you coo, reaching up to cup his face. “My sweet sniffer was worried, huh?”

He just stares at you.

Processing.

“You—” he starts.

You squish his cheeks gently.

“Thought I was exposing you?” you tease, leaning closer, eyes sparkling. “Poor baby.”

A pause. Then—

he pouts. Actually pouts.

Brows knitting slightly, lips pressing into the smallest, most offended line as he drops back against you, arms wrapping around your waist like he’s claiming territory.

“…you’re annoying,” he mutters into your shoulder.

“Look who’s saying” you say and he gasps.

You immediately soften, fingers sliding into his hair.

“Mhm,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his temple. “But you love me.”

Silence.

Then, quietly he says-

“…don’t call me albino monkey.”

You grin into his hair.

“No promises.”

His arms tighten.

And despite everything,

he doesn’t let go.

note: This just came to my mind when i was sprawled on the couch like sweet sniffer here , i love him sm , i wanna do one like this for sukuna too, should i?

frat!gojo, who had a reputation that always clung to him like smoke—loud parties, chaos, and endless amounts of cheap alcohol with men and women practically throwing themselves at him, but none of his one night stands ever stuck around. no one ever really stayed.

frat!gojo, who was always perpetually bored of people, no one could ever really keep up with him, that was until you.

frat!gojo, who’s almost instantly enamoured by you, following you around like a lost puppy everywhere, just so you can give him even the slightest bit of attention.

frat!gojo, who almost whimpers when you roll your eyes at him, walking away as if he was never there, and he just knows he has to have you.

frat!gojo, who has your schedule memorised to the T (he found it while stalking your socials), waiting outside your classes every single day, with his tuft of white hair sticking out in the crowd, while following you around immediately while carrying your fat stack and books and your bag while you walk around campus.

frat!gojo, who’s always bored out of his mind when you aren’t in class with him—always pestering poor nanami because you aren’t around to slap some sense into him and tell him to focus.

frat!gojo, who’s almost afraid of how smart you are, his cock straining nearly painfully against his pants when you ramble on about the kreb’s cycle and whatnot, and all he can think about is what it’d be like to be quizzed from between your thighs instead.

frat!gojo, who’s had numerous filthy dreams about you, with you tying him down, walking all over him in your pretty boots, fisting his hair with your pretty hands—and he wakes up, his cock throbbing in his sweats, leaking beads of pre, he feels like an idiot while he wraps his hands around his dick.

frat!gojo, who muffles his moans into his pillows, cumming onto his pretty abs, all while gasping your name in between breaths. he know’s you’d kill him if you found out about the dirty little fantasies he’s had of you—but the very thought of you reprimanding him has him twitching, flushed against his abdomen all over again.

frat!gojo, who has a picture of you in his wallet, it’s a candid from when you were tutoring him, your lips in a focused pout while you were trying to explain your notes, and gods he just never got over how pretty you looked while being completely engrossed in the stupid text that sat in front of you.

frat!gojo, who knows he’s down bad but he just couldn’t care less. so, if you see satoru gojo being yelled at by a pretty nerd, do NOT come save him. he is exactly where he wants to be.

this is a reupload.

his stream is still rolling, the chat flying by in a blur of emotes and questions he barely glances at anymore.

satoru’s leaned back in his gaming chair, legs spread wide, headset snug over his white hair, mic picking up every low laugh he lets out while he queues into another round with the guys. the screen in front of him glows with bright colors and kill feeds, but his real focus is lower, right where you’re straddling him backwards, skirt flipped up around your waist, panties long gone.

“dude,” someone pings in.

“yeah, i’m here,” he murmurs into the mic, voice calm and easy like nothing’s happening, thumb brushing over the controller. “sorry about the lag earlier, my bad.”

you bite your lip hard to keep quiet, knees digging into the cushion on either side of his thighs.

he’s already inside you, thick and warm and so deep it makes your head spin every time you shift. he had pulled you onto him the second you started whining about how he never pays attention anymore, eyes half-lidded. “ride me then,” he’d said, simple as that, camera off but everything else still live. “show me how bad you need it while i finish this game.”

your hands grip the edge of the desk for balance, trying not to make the chair creak too loud.

every little roll of your hips sinks him deeper, the slow drag pulling soft, wet sounds that only you can hear. satoru’s free hand rests on your ass, fingers spread, guiding you just enough to keep the rhythm lazy and torturous. not fast, not rough but enough to make your thighs tremble.

“bro, you’re cracked today,” one of his friends laughs through the headset, probably thinking satoru’s tired.

satoru chuckles, the vibration running straight through his chest and into you. fuck.

“must be the vibes,” he answers, voice smooth, thumb pressing a little firmer against your skin as he makes you take another inch. you clench around him without meaning to and he exhales through his nose, quiet enough that the mic probably doesn’t catch it. probably.

“y’all seem to play weak tonight,” satoru responds.

you glance over your shoulder at him. his eyes are on the screen, lips parted just a fraction, but the way his fingers dig into your hip tells you he’s feeling every single flutter. he gives a tiny thrust up when you least expect it, just enough to bump against that spot that makes your mouth fall open in a silent gasp.

“keep going, baby,” he mouths, no sound, only the shape of the words while his teammate rambles about some play.

his hand slides around to your front, fingertips barely grazing where you’re stretched around him, teasing without giving you the friction you’re aching for. “nice and slow. let me feel you.”

your breath comes shaky, chest tight as you rock back onto him again, the angle letting him press so deep it borders on too much. the chat keeps popping off on the monitor, none of them knowing their favorite streamer is buried inside you, letting you use him while he casually calls shots with the boys. the contrast makes your stomach twist in the best way.

satoru leans forward a little, pretending to adjust something on his setup, and the shift pushes him even further.

you have to press your face into your arm to muffle the whimper that tries to slip out. and satoru notices, of course he does. that fuck-ass smug little huff of air leaves him as he settles back, palm smoothing over your spine like he’s soothing you.

“you good over there?” his friend asks.

“yeah,” satoru replies, voice perfectly steady even as he gives another lazy roll of his hips that has you seeing stars. “think imma need to sign out tonight, i’m not feeling well, chat.”

he keeps you like that for the rest of the round, making you ride him reverse, slow and deliberate, every movement dragging pleasure through you while he talks and laughs and plays like it’s nothing. when the game ends and he finally mutes for a second, he leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“blame me for not giving you attention again,” he whispers, breath hot, “and next time the camera stays on.”