◜⑅　 vii　 ˚ִִྀི꒱

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

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

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

banner by @pixopix

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

Our pretty boy and his new favorite thing.

It was no surprise to absolutely anyone that Gojo Satoru flaunted anything he could. Not just to show off, but also simply because he could and nobody could stop him.

Money? He had too much of it. So through loud and quiet luxury he flexed: cars, overpriced dress up shirts people couldn't tell apart from a supermarket ones from a mile away, and in many different ways.

Strength? They didn't call him the strongest for nothing. From the moment he won the genetic lottery by inheriting two broken cursed techniques, he was already bound to be the strongest.

Speaking of genetic lottery, his looks? Oh please, that's the first thing you notice about the man even with half of his overly handsome face covered.

However, as of late, Satoru has found his new favourite thing to brag about. His very pregnant and glowing wife.

You didn't plan to get pregnant at all but-- one day, you woke up and waltzed into the kitchen, as usual, looking for your morning fix of coffee. Your shirtless husband was sitting at the counter, piece of half burnt toast hanging from his lips as he scrolled on his phone.

A normal morning it was. That was until he turned around, eyebrows furrowed after feeling your cursed energy off. You were in the middle of yawning, pajama shirt lifting just slightly and exposing your stomach.

Satoru's toast hit the ground with a depressing sound. You raised an eyebrow. "Babe?" Still with your arms over your head.

His hand flew at lightning speed to his blindfold, revealing his wide open eyes under them glued to your stomach. You looked down to where he was looking and noticed the bit of weight you had gained.

You hadn't felt bad about it until now, really conscious under his intense and quiet gaze. By instinct, your hands wrapped around your stomach, hiding it from him.

He choked on his own spit right then and there. "N-NO!" his yell startled you and he immediately apologized, stumbling over his own words.

"Nononono baby, no- you-." - "Spit it out Satoru!" With his six eyes glowing like a lamp post, he happily shouted. "You're pregnant!" - "WHAT!?"

Anyway, that was about three months ago. Now you were currently 4 months pregnant and apparently carrying a baby boy. Up until your second trimester, you hadn't been showing much from when you initially had found out about your pregnancy.

Many visits to your OBGYN were necessary to calm you down from the worries that your baby wasn't growing. But, coincidentally, the week that Satoru had been dispatched to an overseas mission urgently for a week, your belly grew twice it's size.

And when your excited husband walked through the door, so ready to reunite with the loves of his life, but instead was greeted with a very pregnant and glowing wife- the sight he had been secretly dreaming of seeing since he had found out about your pregnancy. He exploded with joy.

Then he became overly clingy. Talking like a maniac, a cute one, but still a maniac to your stomach for hours on end. Giving you routinely massages all over your body (focusing on your legs and stomach because he likes those parts specifically). And showering you with oceans of compliments anytime he caught sight of you.

However, ever since he had finally gotten you a full closet of maternity clothes which in result allowed you to finally leave the house, he has made it everyone's business that you were carrying his baby.

At a bakery, too early in the morning he ordered for you:

"A chocolate chip cookie and a blueberry muffin for my gorgeous pregnant wifey."

The lady behind the counter cringed and you flushed by him, embarrassed. But he was blissfully unaware and too happy so you kept quiet.

Nanami was a frequent victim of Satoru's nonsense.

"Nanamin, serious topic. What sport should I get my son into?" - "I don't care, Gojo." "You should have a daughter so our kids can date!" - "No."

You were trying on a maternity dress at the mall when he barged into the changing room. "Satoru! Privacy!" He ignored you and just gawked at your figure through the reflection of the mirror, then whispered.

"Can I put another baby in you?" As if you weren't pregnant already.

Even though you were expecting, and noticeably so, men didn't stop looking your way. And that pissed your husband off more than anything. He always had to mentally count to a hundred before barking or pouncing on the men who stare too much at you when you were outside.

Shoko never heard the end of it either.

- "No Satoru, she doesn't hate you, she's just carrying your annoyingly heavy baby. I'm surprised she can even get up in the morning with how much of her energy that damn fetus takes from you." And he whined again.

Synopsis: Scar!jo's wife misses her husband's touch.

Pairing: Scar!jo x wife!reader.

Tags: [MDNI] Slow and intimate SMUT some fluff and angst sprinkled, voyarism, public sex, exhibitionism, breeding, p in v, reader is a horny little shit, praise kink ig, missionary, overstimulation (can people learn the diff between this and overwhelmed..?) cunnilingus.

From Shibuya and Shinjuku's ruins to the Italian coast is a long, dreadful and sorrowful journey you embarked on with your husband.

Freshly scarred and high from the adrenaline after the showdown, Satoru hadn't realised just who he was after defeating Sukuna.

He wasn't just the strongest anymore.

He was a survivor.

The winner.

But he came crashing down from the peak sooner than he expected.

One look in the mirror.

And he wasn't anyone.

Not your husband, and most definitely not Gojo Satoru anymore.

So for months, he hid.

The characteristic charming and confident man you married was nowhere to be seen the last three months. Buried in the rubble that consumes what Tokyo once was.

Satoru is still somewhat a ghost of himself—you watch him as he stays rooted at the shore, tall frame swallowed by his orange oversized sweatshirt to hide the dents in his canvas underneath that follow his skin until his mid thighs.

Just staring at the horizon of azure blue, a mirror of his own eyes.

Though you can't see his face, or read his thoughts from where you lay on the sunbed shaded behind the creamy, semi-see through curtains, you can tell his gaze is void—empty like it's been for some time now.

Or perhaps foggy with his everlasting fear. Paranoia of ever having to relieve what he did. Unfortunately for you, as much as you've tried to be a reassuring and wife, nothing has quite helped your husband with abolishing that mindset just yet—that he's on the battlefield.

You don't dare to say it out loud.

But you miss your husband.

Your Satoru.

So much.

Not how he looks.

Never that.

But the cheerful, loud and lively version of him. It pains you far too much to see him so far away despite being right next to you.

You press your face further into the plush white pillow beneath your cheek and try to find comfort in it—to no avail, you can only fall asleep on your husband's chest but he's refused physical contact ever since he came home.

It breaks your heart every time.

Because you love him either way—scarred or not—maybe now even more than before after he kept his promise of coming back to you.

He doesn't see it that way though. And he avoids you like it's better for you to stay away and not see the outcome of the events carved into him.

Says he's "not worthy for you anymore." or "unattractive." So you won't need to force intimacy onto him because he hates the feeling of your fingers brushing every dip of his skin that wasn't there before and that only serves as a reminder that he was still weak.

You wish he'd understand he's anything but weak.

In the distance he's still watching the waves, you begin to wonder if today, on the third day of your vacation—the one you forcefully dragged him on, far away from Japan so he'd have a change of scenery (a positive one)—he will finally get inside the water.

Tug off his cover-up, dip himself beyond his feet in the blue and lose himself in the ocean.

The answer lingers in the back of your mind like a pest, you're sure he's not ready yet, but there's a sliver of hope in your chest.

Which disappears and gets overtaken by vast disappointment once he turns around and makes his way to you. A few long strikes and he reaches where you're bundled up on the bed, hair messily sprawled out on the sheets, curtains half drawn to sheild you from the sun.

And he would usually cling onto you immediately. Throw a hand over your waist, press himself against your back and curl into you. Cuddle you until you both fell asleep in this nice weather.

Instead, now he takes the other end of the bed. Swinging his feet up after dusting the sand off and leaning against the headboard—quiet as a church mouse.

Sadness pools in your stomach, an uneasy feeling taking over your every fiber. You try to be strong knowing he has it so hard—but you can't help but feel undesirable at some point.

Swallowing the prickling feeling of wanting to cry, you try to keep your voice leveled—clear of any sentimental emotions—when you attempt small talk with him.

"How's the water, honey?"

He's quiet for a beat before mumbling "I didn't go in."

You hum, a sorry excuse of a smile on your face.

And you can't help it when the tears bubble quickly in you and you accidentally choke out a sob you were meant to push down.

Satoru’s head whips over to your sideways curled up figure on the bed when the sound reaches his ear.

You feel pathetic.

Making small talk with your husband.

Helpless, and feeling incredibly selfish.

For the first time in months, Satoru feels himself live in an emotional fully. Worry spreading through his whole body.

He pushes himself off his side of the bed and circles the bed till he reaches your side and crouches right where your face is hidden in the pillow and from where tiny whimpers are muffled.

"Baby, what's wrong?" You start sobbing at the sound of the nickname. He has no idea just how much it means to you to just hear him talk or look at you.

The tears spill past your waterline like a waterfall with no direction or limit, dampening your cheeks, soon turning your eyes raw from the dryness.

You hiccup into the pillow, muffle sobs that rip straight from your chest while your husband stays crouched next to the bed and rubs your back—unaware of the inner turmoil you actually fight everyday because of him.

Because he’s there.

Yet, he’s not.

And it stings.

“It’s okay, tell me why you’re crying.” His voice soothes in your ear, questioning softly with the underlying care in his words that he always had with you.

That has your heart clenching even more, your chest tightening at how the man you knew only shows up every once a never now.

You feel like a terrible wife for wanting him back.

“I miss you.” You frailly cry out, voice a pitch higher and shaky.

Though you can’t see him, you know he’s probably wearing that face of indescribable confusion. He’s there, so what are you talking about?

“I’m right here, sweetheart..?” He’s unsure as he points out the obvious.

You don’t miss a beat in replying. “No, I miss my husband.”

His mind slowly wraps around the idea he has about what your talking about and something shifts in him.

For the first time since he’s gotten back from the shore, you show your face again. Mascara smudged around the corners, hair messy, cheeks glossy and lips puffy.

“You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t let me touch you. We barely talk. You don’t let me help. We are married for fucks sake, Satoru.”

Your voice breaks as you spill your hearts content out through the tip of your tongue. Months of frustration and loneliness piercing right at the one man you love most in the world.

Satoru falls quiet with a frozen tongue and a paralysed mind. Internally, he feels the gears shift, his mind rewire as he understands you.

And he gets it.

Shit.

Where has he been these last months?

Back at the battlefield while his wife desperately tried to cling onto his consciousness and ground him like the tether she always was to him in his world of curses?

Uneasiness washes over him at the realisation that he can’t erase the past—the last months you’ve spent in solitude with an absent husband at home, constantly nurturing it without reward.

So all he can offer and pray you accept are apologies.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry.” His long fingers clasp around your hand against the pillow. Holding tight enough for you to feel your bones being squished against his.

“I’m so sorry.”

But you don’t need his apologies.

He has no need to apologise for. After all, you’re not the only one grieving him. He is too. The life he had, who he was, who the mirror showed him before the slashes.

It’s different though. He doesn’t love who he is now, while you still do.

He’s still your husband. You said “I do.” 4 years ago with the same confidence you’d say it today. Even after all of the hardships and even after all of the forgiving.

“Don’t apologise.” You mutter, shifting on the mattress and sitting upward—moving your weight to sit on your legs—and cup his cheek with your right hand to caress it.

Only now do you realise his eyes are glossy too, guilt swimming in them—regret. The kind that eats at your bones for mistakes you didn’t mean.

Quietly, you confess with the sound of the waves in the background supporting you.

“I’ll always be by your side, Satoru. But you need to let me in. I’m your wife.”

Your eyes follow the way his Adams apple bobs as he swallows your honest words. Their meaning sinking into his marked skin with permission this time.

He nods once—slow and sure—and the knot in your chest loosens. In the blink of an eye, he’s getting off his knees.

The matress dips where he sits down next to you, hand still in hand, his body fully turned to you while your legs—folded beneath you—still are angled straight ahead.

In a slow pace, he draws himself closer to you. The smell of his natural musk that always drove you crazy mixed with the ocean breeze in his milky white hair filling your senses.

His lips brush against you in the comforting way they always did before meeting.

And slowly, he whispers.

“You are so much more than my wife.”

You hum once, curtly.

“You’re my everything.”

And the man you thought you no longer recognised, kissed you like the man you know by heart.

The kiss is impossibly soft. Tender and warm. Electrifying all of your dormant atoms to life, cells buzzing under his touch.

It’s magical. An open door to the world you thought you were shut out of entirely—one with him and your love.

His lips move slowly against yours. Plush skin meeting plush skin in a desperate yet patient reunion.

You didn’t realise you missed it so much till now.

It hurts to part.

Satoru only pulls away for a second to look in your eyes.

Neither of you exchange words before diving back into each other’s essences.

His hands find your waist, your body turns to him completely—back pressing against the headboard as he holds you, your hands fitting on his broad shoulders.

Beneath the tips of your delicate fingers, you feel the dips and uneven surfaces under the thin layer of his sweatshirt.

The kiss deepens once he swipes his tongue under your lip and you grant him that quiet access like you always have under the sun or moon.

You’ve always been Satoru’s.

From the day you saw him on the other side of the train station.

Till now.

And you always will be his.

Your nails slightly dig into his flesh as he explores your mouth, one of his hands now on your chin—tilting your face up—so he can follow the same path he always did.

Tongues fighting, bodies heating up under the daylight, you feel the need to reduce the layers between your thin white cover-up dress and his sweatshirt.

Hesitantly, the pressure on his shoulders caused by your fingers lessens and your hands migrate to the collar of the orange material.

He’s still kissing you as you tug on the zipper.

Then he freezes.

Tongue retreating and lips separating from the heated kiss. Eyes locking together.

You see the fear and hesitation in his baby blues. A silent prayer for you to not see him.

“Satoru, I love you.” You croak out. Voice scratchy and hoarse. The remaining few drops of tears spill from the corners of your eyes.

“I love you so much you have no idea. And I have always loved you and I always will. Even when you change.”

Your husband’s heart shatters.

Loud, like glass breaking against the floor. Unmendable.

But he trusts you.

So he dries your face with the buds of his fingers. Kisses the corner of your damp eye, and pulls the zipper down himself—showing the tainted and raw outcome of his fight.

Pink scars, painfully painted stars in his history.

You see beyond them. See the chiseled body he worked for, the defined v-line that you go crazy for, his rock-hard abs. His determination.

The scars are mere decorations you wish he accepts someday.

“You’re beautiful, honey. Even more now.”

Satoru has doubled in mass since being in the prison realm.

There’s nothing unattractive about him.

Your mind momentarily flashes to the promises of him giving you a family after the fight if he made it.

Every time you think about it, nausea overtakes you.

That dangerous what if that haunted you for nights before the showdown.

What if he didn’t…

No, he’s home.

And that matters so much to you.

That he could come home missing half of his body and you’d still cherish him to death.

Because you know there were others without the gift or the fortune to see their loved ones faces ever again.

Your hands press against the hard surface of his pecks before peeling your back off the headboard and reaching up to kiss him.

You’re caged in between his arms that hold himself up against the headrest. He happily accepts the kiss, lighter than a few seconds ago.

He melts into you again. Your back presses against the cushioned board again as he hovers over you once more.

Hands dipping, your nails feel every dip of his abs. Your legs subconsciously closing as the heat in between them grows.

Satoru bites your bottom lip so he can slip inside your mouth this time, his confidence recovering little by little as he sees the effect he still has on you.

You rein back a whimper that almost escapes once he lowers his lower body onto you. Hard boner pressing against your thinly covered clit—slotting himself perfectly against her.

With the palms of your hands, you push the orange sweatshirt off Satoru and he pulls his hands back quickly to throw it off before latching them on your breasts.

Your mouths dance a ballad you’ve both practiced across different lives.

With no regard for even considering that people might walk by and catch what’s happening through the slightly agape curtains, you slowly plunge your hands inside your husband’s swim trunks.

He hisses against your mouth as your hands wrap around his shaft, sensitive from not being touched or touching himself at all these last months.

Every fiber in you is on fire. His lips leave yours and attach to your neck—peppering your skin with love bites that show you’re his as he works on kneading your tits.

You start pumping his girth at a rhythmic pace, swiping your index finger to collect the small amount of pre-cum oozing out of his tip to stroke him.

Satoru’s face lifts to see you spit on your hand while maintaining eye contact and he feels himself grow harder even when it’s not even possible anymore.

His hand messily pushes down his swim shorts and his cock springs up, hitting him in his lower belly where you immediately grab it and coat it in your spit.

He lets out a deep rumble from his chest that has you twitching around nothing. One large hand pushing your cover up just enough for your bikini-covered breasts to meet the light of day.

A finger hooks under the thin strap underneath them and he sets them free once he tugs the string over your tits.

Your stroking falters when he moves to your nipple, biting as a greeting and then sooting the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You’re dripping—soaking the expensive material of your bathing suit under your cover.

Satoru’s still working on your nipple when his hand pushes up your cover up and moves aside your panties. Long fingers pressing against your warm wetness.

He swears he could cum just for the fact that you’re this wet over him.

A thick, rough digit of his pokes at your entrance before slipping inside. You gasp at the stretch, not having had sex in a long time.

Satoru relishes in the small sound. He pumps the finger once, twice and on the third thrust he unexpectedly adds another finger.

Now, his middle and ring finger stretch you. Wedding ring pressing against your cunt whenever he bottoms his hand out.

His palm rubs against your clit in a way that has you twitching beneath him. Your body jerks at his tongue swirling around your nipple and his palm slapping your bud.

Small moans ring in his ear. With your hands still wrapped around him, he starts thrusting against the mattress, chasing that friction while your mind crashes.

He feels you tense up when your walls start to flutter around his fingers so he pulls them out before you can reach your release.

You feel him lower and latch his mouth onto your pussy before you can process it and whimper for the loss of his digits. Hands letting go of his length as he lowered himself.

Immediately, your hips buck when he flattens his tongue—trying to lap up and consume relish in every taste of his wife’s nectar that she’ll offer him.

You lose all control over the moans and whimpers that leave your mouth—too far gone to even think about others now when your husband eats you up so messily.

Your juices mixed with his saliva soak into the white mattress, staining it, yet the two of you couldn’t care less.

Satoru laps up like a starved man. As he is. His tongue slips past your ring of resistance at times, teasing. Testing to see if you’re ready.

Your nails cling at his back, scratching new redness that he doesn’t mind—not in the way he does with his scars.

His hands are now under your plush ass, angling you upwards and holding you in place as he devours you with the reverence and need he has always had with you.

Your orgasm approaches quickly once he reignites it. Satoru holds the need to smirk against you once he feels your clit twitch and your sweet cunt start to flutter all alone.

He looks up with your bud in between his lips to see the heavenly sight of you propped on your elbows, tits out and glistening, your head thrown back.

His rutting against the bed stops.

You come undone on his tone aggressively. It hits you all at once, shivers overtaking you as your mind falls into pure euphoria.

Satoru doesn’t let a single drop spill.

Not giving you much time to recover, too eager to melt his body with yours, and with you all over his face, your husband climbs over your body again and captures your lips in a kiss.

Tasting yourself on his glistening lips, you shudder and whimper from how sensitive you are once you feel him rub his tip against your entrance.

“ ‘toruuu.” You whine, tears brimming your eyes.

A mock pity pout spawns on his face. His head lolls to the side as he watches your struggled expression—mouth parted, eyes fluttering open and shut when he brushes himself against your overstimulated clit.

“Didn’t you miss me, baby?” He teases.

"I—did-I missed you so much, mmh!" You mewl out in high-pitched stutters. Eyes falling shut and letting the tears spill from your clamped shut eyelids once he bottoms out in one go.

“Oh fuck.” Satoru bites back a low groan that escapes straight from his chest, his thighs pressing against the round and plush skin of your ass.

He wastes no time in pulling back and snapping himself back home. Letting his length disappear inside of you with little to no resistance. “Yeah, baby. Take all of me.”

Electricity sparks every once-dormant nerve in your body back to life.

Your mind momentarily flashes back to the promises he had vowed to keep before the fight. How he’d retire if he won, give you a family and spend the rest of his days cherishing the moments he spends in your arms.

And you snap out of your thoughts once you feel his two hands slide under your thighs, strong forearms locking them against your hamstrings so he can snugly wrap your legs around his textured waist—carved skin firmed up from days in a dark realm where he fought against time and his own mind.

You feel him everywhere. To the veins harshly reminding you how they have a place within your velvety walls ever since he vowed to be the only one who would ever walk the earth to please you—to the heat swirling in your chest out of profound and raw love you have for your husband.

It’s not supposed to be such a bittersweetly beautiful moment as Satoru is keeping your legs folded around him—forcing him to voluntarily slam down and dip his bulging cock back down home, juices welcoming him and kissing his length goodbye when he pulls back—but it’s so painfully good.

The way he’s back within your reach—caging you under his huffing, feral state where you can see the light color of his eyes sparkling as his body is electrified with life for the first time in months—and the way he’s stretching you out so deliciously.

Making you mewl out incomprehensible words that end up being letters melted into each other with no real meaning because your brain can barely form a real thought.

He’s finding the love you have for him in every crevice of you as your tongues mesh together again. Saliva on saliva as he connects his hips to yours without faltering once.

Begrudgingly, he pulls back. Your eyes fall down to his plush baby pink swollen lips that once shined with your release.

His breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling—occasionally shaking as a deep groan escapes him when you suck him in so greedily—for a second, you catch his stare falling to your bodies connecting.

Then he snaps back up—face levelling to you where you’re still giving him that fucked out doe-eyed look that he swears will have him falling over the edge sooner than he intends to.

“Baby?” He softly calls out, the four-lettered word spilling out of his mouth with ease that comes out of the habit he has of calling you that loving name.

You barely hear the sound of his voice, mind somewhere over the clouds. His tip is pushing past your cervix soo nicely. Kissing that little spot that makes your muscles start to spasm in uneven waves—your eyesight blur and the tears streak down the sides of your face quick.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru is a lot more pleased with himself than he’d admit right now. Even after the noise, the trauma and the ashes—he still has it in him.

Still has it inside of him to unravel you with the simples touches, to have you with your mouth parted open and your eyes rhythmically rolling back as he plunges inside of you—searching for your release.

It fills his body with a tingling sensation—a lingering hot feeling right where his heart sits at the realisation that you’re his wife in every sense of the word.

That you’re still here and still so loving.

All for him.

“M-mhm?” He hears you barely make out, nails moving from his back and onto his forearms where your nails subconsciously dig into his tainted skin.

A cannined smile pulls on his handsome face, almost resembling one of his characteristic smirks that has you knowing—even in your haze—that something is coming.

“Remember the promise I made you?”

Instantly, you scramble around your mind to try and filter to the thousands of promises you’ve offered each other and that he has yet to break.

There are so many, and you don’t have enough mind to run through them all.

“Which—ngh, ‘toru!” In the middle of your attempt to speak, he shifts, hooking both legs over his shoulders. Drawing his chest down, the strong surface of his chest weighing down on your smooth skin.

“—right there! Oh—“

You’re loud. Too loud for someone on a sunbed in a public place. Satoru probably knows it. Yet he makes no effort in shutting you up—he doesn’t muffle your real moans with a kiss, doesn’t silence your babbles with his hand. He lets them pour out into the open.

He lets the world know you’re his.

And that he’s back.

Either way, you don’t make any effort to stop the shore from knowing your lover is back.

His calloused hands, detailed with resilience and his unmatched strength, go delicate as he tries to wipe the stream of tears on the sides of your face.

“C’mon baby, you know which one.”

Seeing the way you fall quiet—half losing the fight between yourself and climaxing too early as your orgasm holds you by your throat, and half winning over the chaos of your mind—he “aids” you just a bit as his left hand drops and finds your clit with soft circles.

He’s teasing you, worsening the internal struggle he’s putting you through—setting every nerve in your body on fire as he pulls your release by the reins.

“What do you want from me?”

His words find a place in your disoriented head, clicking with his previous question.

A baby.

You wanted a baby with him before the fight.

A family.

Something to remember him by

Every night before that godforsaken day.

You tried.

Clung onto his body with a different—more painful kind of desperation than the one you have right now.

Tried for a baby.

Tried to leave a part of him within you just in case he—

The answer spills out of your mouth before your mind dips to darker places.

“A family.” You breathe out, eyes clamping shut for a second.

He muses, face dipping to press soft kisses to your pulsing temple. “Yeah?”

“Y—yeah!”

Your voice pitches higher at the last second as he presses down on your clit.

“Please—please, ‘toru—don’t leave me. Give me a baby.”

You don’t realise just how your fear is spilling through the cracks as you beg to finish and for him to never be done with you.

And Satoru goes soft.

Pace stuttering, abs tightening—he’s so close, you’re so close too.

With slow strokes, already high off demolishing you the past moments—Satoru rides the last moments of the roller coaster as he reaches his end.

“I’ll give you everything, honey.” He whispers, the bed creaking less beneath the both of you as he takes you to the edge.

And you titter to your orgasm that crashes over you twice as strong the second time once he completes his sentence. “Just take it all.”

He places a soft kiss to your lips as he buries himself inside, ropes and ropes of white milky cum filing your womb—overflowing right out of your walls while he remains inside, twitching and unwilling to leave.

A choked sob is muffled as Satoru’s lips catch it, right hand caressing your cheek.

Everything falls quiet, the smell of sex in the open air quickly settles back into the horizon as the sea overtakes the atmosphere and your ears hear the waves crashing against the sand.

The birds sing a song that relaxes your muscles. Your husband goes limp inside of you before pulling out—no longer having anything left of his to give that’s not love.

He plops down to you, the bed dipping in two sides now—but it quickly goes back to only one spot when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you over his warm body, letting you hear his heartbeat underneath the layers of skin.

Thud thud thud.

The sound goes straight to your veins, travelling through arteries and shifting your own heartbeat till it follows his.

He’s home.

Your Satoru is home.

And you fall asleep in his arms.

Safe, the way you both deserve to be.

Three hours later, Satoru walks over to the rim of the sea, stares off into the distance as the sun kisses his pale skin.

He’s uncovered, letting the salty breeze greet his open and slowly healing scars.

But he’s real.

And you join him when he goes inside the water.

Because this is just the first step out of the trenches.

And you’ll be there with him every stretch of the way.

Please excuse the way this turned out, tumblr has been deleting my completed drafts and not saving anything I write and it has been killing my motivation to write. Nonetheless, thank you to the 800 of u who have been patient w me, satosugu x reader and suguru x reader smut coming soon so lmk if u wanna get tagged~ bye loves. More <3

❝ 𝓘 𝓚NOW, 𝓑ABY ❞

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Exam stress leads to a late night horny decision. Everything is going great, until the guy in the video starts sounding a little too familiar

part 1 here! . part 2 here! . part 3 here! . part 4 here! part 5 here! part 6 here! . part 7 here! . part 8 here!

cr: 3vangel1ne_ on X

cw: praise kink, light dom/sub dynamics, recording, handjob, spit kink.

Play this!

You woke up first. Soft morning light slipped through the thin curtains of your dorm room, washing everything in pale gold, including Satoru’s face.

He was still asleep beside you, lying on his side, facing you. His white hair was a messy halo against the pillow, strands falling across his forehead. His eyelashes rested against his cheeks, impossibly long, his lips parted just enough for slow, even breaths to escape.

One of his arms was wrapped loosely around your waist. Enough that you knew, even asleep, he had unconsciously reached for you.

Carefully, you lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. Your fingertips lingered. You traced the curve of his cheekbone, the line of his jaw, the soft skin under his eye. He didn't stir. Instead, he leaned almost imperceptibly into your touch, as though some part of him recognized it even in his sleep. It made your heart squeeze.

You couldn’t stop looking at him. He looked so peaceful. So beautiful.

“You’re staring again.” Shoko’s teasing voice echoed in your head. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

No one had ever stayed the night before. And it wasn’t because they didn’t ask. It was because you’d never wanted them to, never asked them to. You liked people leaving. You liked knowing nothing had changed once the night was over. 

Now, lying here with Satoru sleeping peacefully in your bed, you realized something.

This wasn’t just about getting it out of your system.

Being like this with him… it felt natural. Right.

A selfish part of you wished the morning could stay like this a little longer. You wanted to keep watching him. Wanted to memorize this version of him—the one no one else got to see.

Before your thoughts could spiral any further, Satoru shifted.

His brow twitched and his long lashes fluttered. Slowly, impossibly slowly, those beautiful bright blue eyes opened.

For a second he simply blinked at you, still caught somewhere between dreaming and waking. Then he realized you were already awake.

“…Morning” he whispered, voice rough with sleep.

“Morning, Satoru” you said, still gently stroking his cheek.

Without saying anything, he turned his head just enough to nuzzle into your palm, almost like a cat asking for more affection. The gesture was so instinctive it made you laugh softly.

Satoru watched you for another few seconds before speaking again, quieter this time.

“I was scared you'd regret letting me stay.”

The words were almost whispered. Like he'd been carrying them since he'd opened his eyes.

“I don’t.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed, and a soft smile slowly spread across his face.

—

By the time you finished brushing your teeth, the apartment smelled faintly of butter and freshly brewed coffee.

That definitely hadn’t been there when you'd gone into the bathroom. Curious, you stepped into the hallway.

The sight that greeted you made you stop in your tracks.

Satoru stood in your tiny kitchen with his back to you. One hand held a spatula while the other balanced a frying pan with surprising confidence. His white hair was still adorably messy from sleep, refusing to stay flat no matter how many times he’d probably tried to fix it.

He hummed quietly to himself.

Completely unaware you were watching.

He looked… domestic. And unfairly adorable.

You watched him for a moment before walking over. He turned when he heard your footsteps, and his entire face brightened.

“Oh.” His smile softened immediately. “Morning again. I hope you like pancakes.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t really sure what you usually eat for breakfast, so... I made scrambled eggs too. Just in case.”

You sat down at the small table as he brought over two plates and fresh coffee. He sat across from you, fidgeting with his glasses nervously.

For a few minutes you ate in comfortable silence, stealing glances at each other. But Satoru kept opening and closing his mouth, clearly working up the courage to say something.

Finally, after pushing his food around his plate for the third time, he spoke.

“I… I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mmh?” You looked up at him

He adjusted his glasses, then immediately took them off again, then just put them on again.

“I, uh…”

His fingers tapped nervously against the edge of the table.

“We’ve... spent a lot of time together lately.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly.

“...That's true.”

“And yesterday was…” He laughed awkwardly. “Well. Yesterday.”

His ears were noticeably pink now, and you had to resist the urge to kiss him senseless because he looked so cute. 

“Uh... I just—” He stopped, pressing his lips together. He let out a quiet breath and tried again.

“I was wondering if maybe…” He swallowed. “...if you’d like to go out with…me”

The words had barely left his mouth before he rushed to keep talking.

“I mean—you don’t have to, obviously. If you don’t want to, that’s completely okay." He shook his head quickly. 

You opened your mouth, but he was already spiraling.

“I just... I really like spending time with you, and I thought maybe we could... keep doing that. Outside of…” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “...everything else.”

He grimaced.

“God, that sounded weird.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing.

“I mean, it’s okay if you say no.” He ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I can just... leave, and you won’t have to see me ag— Oh.” He froze. “The project.”

He shut his eyes.

“Right. We’d definitely see each other again.”

You had to press your lips together to suppress the laughter.

“So... forget that part.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking thoroughly embarrassed.

“Nothing has to change. We can just... pretend I never said anything. Well, maybe not pretend, because I did say it, but—”

“Satoru.” you said, utterly amused.

“Sorry” he mumbled, dropping his gaze to his plate.

“Are you asking me to be exclusive?”

“I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck, ears turning pink all over again. “I—I would. I mean, I want to.” He frowned at himself. “Not that you have to. I’m not saying you have to, I would’t expect you to just because I—”

“Yes.”

Satoru blinked, eyes wide behind his glasses.

“W-what?”

“Yes. I want to go out with you.” A teasing smile tugged at your lips. “Just you.”

He stared at you as though he'd forgotten how to process words. You stood, walked around the table, and stopped beside him.

“We don't know each other that well yet.”

“...No.”

“But that’s kind of the point of dating, isn’t it?”

He looked up at you.

“...Yeah.”

“We don’t have to figure everything out today.” You smiled. “We can just... get to know each other while we go out together.”

For a moment, he simply stared.

“...Really?”

You nodded.

“Really.”

A breath escaped him—half laugh, half sheer relief.

“Okay,” he whispered, smiling so widely it almost looked disbelieving. “Okay.”

He just stared at you, the goofiest smile you'd ever seen plastered on his face

You rolled your eyes fondly.

“Come here.” You leaned down and cupped his jaw, kissing him softly.

When you pulled away, his cheeks had somehow turned an even deeper shade of pink.

“...Hi,” he mumbled, sounding completely dazed.

You couldn't help laughing.

“Hi.”

He looked at you for another second before a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

“...So I’m taking you on a date?”

You hummed.

“Looks like it.”

“I like that.” He smiled to himself. 

“I hope you like APA formatting too, because I kept telling myself I’d do it later... and then later never happened.” You reached over and gently squished his cheeks between your hands. “It’s a good thing I’ve got a pretty boy who excels at it.”

His cheeks warmed all over again.

“...I can definitely help with APA.”

“I figured you would.”

—

Monday arrived much faster than either of you had expected, and before you knew it, the ten-minute presentation was already over.

“And these are our references,” Satoru said, the presentation clicker still in his hand. “Thank you.”

The classroom filled with polite applause as your professor looked between the two of you.

“I have to admit,” she began, “I was expecting a solid presentation.”

Satoru shifted ever so slightly beside you.

“But this exceeded my expectations.”

You couldn’t help but straighten a little.

“The way you explained the mechanisms behind vancomycin resistance was clear, well-organized, and easy to follow.” She tapped her pen lightly against the desk. “Excellent work.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Satoru.

“Thank you” the two of you replied almost in unison.

A few minutes later, as you walked out of the lecture hall, Satoru finally let out the breath he'd apparently been holding throughout the entire presentation.

“...We actually did it.”

“Of course we did.” You grinned, nudging his shoulder with yours. “You’re ridiculously smart. You somehow made a really difficult project look easy.”

His cheeks turned pink.

“I just…” He ducked his head with a shy smile. “I really wanted us to do well. And you were perfect too.”

Your heart softened.

You walked side by side down the hallway, the professor's praise still lingering pleasantly in your mind.

After a few moments, you glanced at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips.

“So…”

He looked over at you.

“...Should we celebrate?”

He tilted his head, clearly intrigued.

“Celebrate?”

“Mhm.” You slowed your pace just enough to make him stop with you. “I’ve already got an idea”

—

Two hours later, Satoru sat on the edge of your bed, completely naked, legs spread wide. The phone was propped on a tripod in front of him, carefully angled so neither of your faces would appear — only his body, your hands, and the intimate angle between you.

You knelt behind him, bare breasts pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his torso. The camera was already recording.

You pressed a slow kiss to the side of his neck, feeling him shiver.

“Look at my pretty, brilliant boy…” you murmured against his skin, one hand sliding down his chest. “So smart… getting the highest grade in the class with me.”

Satoru let out a soft, shaky whimper and tilted his head, offering you more of his neck.

You wrapped your hand around his cock — already painfully hard — and stroked him with slow, deliberate movements.

“You worked so hard on that project,” you continued, voice low and sweet. “Always so focused… always so good for me. You deserve this, don’t you?”

He moaned, hips twitching forward into your fist. “Y-yes… I tried so hard… for you…”

You smiled against his neck and sucked lightly on his skin while your hand kept its steady rhythm. “Mmh, yeah… such a good boy,” you whispered, thumb brushing over the leaking tip.

Satoru whimpered louder, head falling back against your shoulder. His body trembled with every stroke.

“Fuck…” he breathed, voice already breaking.

You tightened your grip and picked up the pace, your free hand roaming over his body — tracing his abs, dragging your nails lightly down his thigh. Then you sucked hard on his neck, leaving a clear mark just below his shoulder.

“Mine,” you whispered against the fresh bruise. “All fucking mine.”

He moaned, raw and needy. You slid your hand up to his throat, wrapping your fingers around it gently but firmly — not choking, just holding him in place.

His breath hitched.

“Fuck— yes—” he whimpered, hips bucking harder into your hand. “Please… harder…”

You squeezed a little tighter and stroked him faster, twisting your wrist at the head. “You’re so loud today, baby,” you purred against his ear. “Letting everyone hear how much you love being mine… how desperate you get when I touch you.”

He was panting now, thrusting desperately into your fist. “I love it— fuck— I love being yours…”

You rewarded him with another mark on his neck and dragged your nails down his abs, leaving faint red lines. Satoru cried out, body shaking.

“I’m gonna— fuck— I’m so close—”

“Not yet,” you whispered, slowing your hand just enough to edge him. “Tell me how much you need me.”

“I need you so bad… I want to be inside you… I want you to use me… please let me cum for you—”

You smiled and sped up again, your other hand still firm around his throat. “Tell me more, baby. What do you want?”

Satoru’s voice cracked with desperation. “I want you to be mine… forever. I want to wake up next to you… I want everyone to know you’re mine…”

You let out a soft, amused hum. “Mmm, you’re so greedy.”

“I-I’m sorry—” he whimpered instantly, shame and lust mixing in his tone.

“No, that’s okay,” you murmured, lips brushing his ear. “I like it when you’re greedy… because I’m yours too, baby.”

You kept stroking him, slick and relentless. “My pussy is yours. My tits are yours. My throat is yours to fuck whenever you want…”

“Fuck—” he gasped, head falling back against your shoulder again. “I want that so bad… I want to choke on your fingers while you ride me…”

You stroked him faster for a few moments, then slowed down again, torturing him.

“You like it when I’m mean to you, don’t you?” you asked sweetly.

“Y-yes… I love it… I want you to use me until I can’t think… I like it —Ahh– Fuck— too much”

You felt him throbbing harder, his hips jerking desperately.

“I’m gonna— fuck— I’m so close—”

You immediately slowed your hand, almost stopping.

“Not yet,” you whispered, kissing his neck. “Hold it for me, baby. I want you to feel really good when you finally cum.”

Satoru let out a broken, frustrated whimper, hips twitching helplessly.

“Please… I need it… I’m so fucking close…”

You stroked him a little faster again, then slowed down once more, edging him beautifully. His cock was leaking profusely, throbbing angrily in your hand.

After the third time you denied him, he was shaking.

You leaned in close.

“Open your mouth.”

Satoru obeyed instantly. You brought your hand to his lips.

“Spit.”

He spat into your palm without hesitation.

You used his spit as lubricant, wrapping your hand around his cock again and stroking him faster, slick and wet.

“Fuck— yes—” he moaned, hips jerking.

Finally, you pressed your lips against his ear and whispered:

“You can cum now, baby. Make a mess for your girl.”

With a loud, broken cry, Satoru came hard.

Thick ropes of cum shot across his stomach and chest as his hips jerked wildly into your hand. He moaned your name over and over, voice wrecked and desperate, body shaking with the intensity of it.

You kept stroking him gently through the aftershocks, pressing soft kisses along his neck until he was trembling and oversensitive.

Then you cupped his face and turned it toward the camera. Not enough for his face to come into frame—just enough that it looked like he was addressing the audience.

“Tell them, baby,” you ordered softly. “You're mine. Only mine.”

“I-I’m hers…” he panted, his voice hoarse, barely able to catch his breath.

A satisfied smile tugged at your lips.

“Good boy.”

You pressed one last kiss to the corner of his jaw before reaching past him to stop the recording.

—

Six months later

The apartment was wrapped in a peaceful kind of quiet that only existed on rare mornings like this. No classes, no alarms, no rush to be anywhere. Just the soft glow of sunlight slipping through the half-closed curtains and the steady sound of breathing.

Satoru woke up first — or at least he tried to.

The moment he opened his eyes, he realized he was completely trapped. Not in a bad way. In the best possible way.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around his torso, your face buried against his chest, and one of your legs had somehow found its way between his. Your entire body was pressed against him like you’d decided he was your personal pillow for the rest of your life.

He smiled, soft and helpless.

“Baby…” he whispered, voice still rough with sleep.

A sleepy hum was the only answer he got. You nuzzled closer, refusing to loosen your hold.

“I can’t feel my arm anymore,” he murmured, amused.

You tightened your grip even more, a lazy smile forming against his skin.

“Sounds like a you problem.”

Satoru let out a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest. He tilted his head down to look at you properly. You were still wearing his oversized white hoodie — the one with the vancomycin molecule printed across the back. It had ridden up just enough to expose the soft skin of your thighs, and the sleeves completely swallowed your hands.

For a long moment, he just watched you, his heart feeling too big for his chest.

Eventually, you stirred, blinking up at him with sleepy eyes.

“Want me to move?” you asked, your voice muffled.

“Just a little bit,” he said, though he didn’t sound very convincing.

“Okay…”

Instead of rolling off, you shifted upward and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist in one smooth motion.

Satoru’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Wait—”

Too late.

You cupped his face with both hands, gently squishing his cheeks together until his lips puckered. He stared up at you, completely helpless and entirely in love.

“Look at you…” you whispered, eyes sparkling with affection.

“What?” he managed to say, voice slightly distorted by your hands.

“You’re so cute.”

His cheeks flushed instantly, a soft pink spreading across his face. No matter how many times you said it, it still got to him.

You grinned and started peppering his face with slow, lazy kisses — his forehead, his eyelids, the tip of his nose, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth. Satoru laughed softly, not even pretending to resist your attack of affection.

“Baby—” he tried between kisses.

Another kiss landed on his jaw.

“Ugh, my boyfriend is so cute,” you mumbled happily.

There it was. That word again.

Boyfriend.

Satoru’s ears turned pink. He looked away, suddenly shy, even though he was smiling.

“You really like saying that” he muttered.

“I do,” you answered without hesitation, still holding his face. “And you like hearing it.”

He didn’t deny it. You leaned down and kissed him properly this time — slow, warm, and lingering. When you pulled back, your forehead rested gently against his.

“I love you,” you whispered.

His expression melted completely. Those two words never failed to hit him right in the chest.

“I love you too,” he breathed, hands sliding up to rest on your waist, thumbs brushing softly over the hoodie.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You simply stayed there, breathing each other in, enjoying the quiet warmth of the morning. Then you tilted your head, a playful glint appearing in your eyes.

“You know what would make you look even cuter?” you whispered.

Satoru raised an eyebrow slightly.

“What?”

“The cat ears.”

Before he could answer, you rolled your hips slowly against him, grinding down in a lazy, teasing motion. You felt him twitch beneath you, growing hard almost instantly.

A smug little smile curved your lips.

“Ah… you liked that, didn’t you?”

Satoru’s face flushed bright red. He let out a shy, embarrassed sound and immediately hid his face in the crook of your neck, burying it there as if he could disappear.

You chuckled softly, threading your fingers through his messy white hair.

And as you held him close, tangled together in your sheets, you realized once again that this — this quiet, warm, and shy kind of love — was everything you had never known you needed.

ahhh!! we made it to the end😭 I really hope you enjoyed this story🥺 I'm gonna miss this nerdjo so much💗

Reblogs are sooo appreciated masterlist

“Mmmfgh-!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smiling, you lean down and kiss him.

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

Exam stress leads to a late night horny decision. Everything is going great, until the guy in the video starts sounding a little too familiar

part 1 here! . part 2 here! . part 3 here! . part 4 here! part 5 here! part 6 here! . part 7 here!

cr: 3vangel1ne_ on X

cw: vaginal sex, cowgirl position, belly bulge, creampie, oral sex (f&m rec), shower sex, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, light sub/dom dynamics, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, cum play/cum eating, aftercare.

Playlist: wet dreams / scream my name / worship / muse / dangerous / pretty boy

Shoko nudged your shoulder lightly. You were both standing on the balcony, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. She leaned against the railing, a cigarette between her fingers, while you rested against the low wall, facing the inside of the apartment.

Shoko followed your gaze.

Across the room, Suguru was in the middle of telling some ridiculous story, waving his hands dramatically. Choso looked mildly concerned for no apparent reason, and Satoru... Satoru was laughing. Really laughing. Shoulders shaking, his head slightly tilted as he pushed his glasses back up his nose with that familiar little gesture.

“You’re staring again,” Shoko said, amused.

You didn't bother denying it or looking away.

“I’ve never seen you like this before.”

That finally pulled your attention back to her.

You frowned.

“Mmh?”

“Don’t give me that look”  she added, exhaling a thin stream of smoke.

“What look?”

“The one where you're about to pretend this is all because he's ridiculously hot.”

You scoffed. “He is ridiculously hot.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Shoko agreed without hesitation. “No one’s denying that.”

She took another slow drag from her cigarette, watching you carefully.

“I’ve seen you want people before. I’ve seen you get crushes. But this…” She gestured vaguely toward the living room with her cigarette. “I’ve never seen you watch someone like this. I’ve never seen you zone out completely because of someone.”

Your eyes drifted back to Satoru almost against your will. He wasn’t doing anything special—just listening to Suguru, smiling softly, occasionally adding a comment that made Choso smile.

“...We barely know each other” you murmured.

Shoko hummed thoughtfully.

“But the chemistry is there. And not just the class project kind.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't quite hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

She nodded subtly toward the living room.

“Apparently he’s the nicest guy alive. Suguru literally never shuts up about him,” she continued. “Top of the class, doesn't sleep around, calls his mom every week, helps younger students without complaining, shares his notes…”

You couldn't help smiling. You tried to hide it behind your beer, but Shoko was too sharp.

“There it is” she said with a smirk.

“I still don’t really know him” you protested weakly.

“No, you don’t.” Shoko shrugged. “But maybe it’s time you actually let yourself.”

You looked back at Satoru. At that exact moment, he glanced over. The second your eyes met, the corners of his mouth lifted into that impossibly shy, soft smile you were starting to recognize all too well.

Your stomach did a traitorous little flip. You looked away first.

A comfortable silence settled between you and Shoko for a few seconds. Then, naturally, she ruined it.

“...Anyway.”

You already knew that tone.

“Fuck his brains out first.”

“Jesus Christ, Shoko.”

“What?” she asked, looking genuinely innocent. “Were you planning on going home alone after whatever happened inside that room? Don’t play with me.”

“Get it out of your system” she continued with a smirk. “Then, once neither of you is thinking through a thick haze of unbearable horniness... you can figure out the rest.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

Shoko noticed, of course.

“...Yeah,” she said with a knowing smile, flicking the ash from her cigarette. “That’s what I thought”

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a quiet laugh.

“You’re insufferable.”

—

About half an hour later, the party had begun to wind down. Empty beer bottles cluttered the coffee table, conversations had broken off into smaller groups, and someone had quietly started stacking pizza boxes in the kitchen.

You crossed the living room until you found Satoru standing near the couch, absentmindedly listening to whatever Choso and Suguru were arguing about.

Without interrupting them, you stepped beside him and lightly squeezed his hand.

He looked down at your hand before lifting his eyes to yours.

You tilted your head toward the front door.

“Let’s go?” 

His expression softened instantly. He gave a small nod before turning to Suguru.

“I was just gonna—”

“Go” Suguru interrupted before he could finish, waving him off with one hand.

Satoru blinked.

“...Oh.”

Suguru finally glanced at the two of you, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

“Seriously. Get out of here.”

—

The taxi ride back to your apartment had been almost painfully quiet. Not because there was nothing to say — quite the opposite. There was too much.

Every time Satoru's hand brushed against yours, every time his knee bumped yours in the backseat, it felt like another reminder of everything you had been holding back.

But the moment the door to your apartment slammed shut behind you, that restraint finally snapped. Weeks of edging, of waiting, of holding back — you were done. This wasn’t going to be about being patient anymore.

You pushed him against the nearest wall, crashing your lips against his. He kissed you back like he’d been dying for it all night — hot, hungry, and a little clumsy in his eagerness. His tongue slid against yours in messy, needy strokes, tasting you deeply as soft, desperate sounds escaped his throat.

You moaned into his mouth, fingers threading through his messy white hair, tugging him even closer. Your hands moved frantically, pulling at the hem of his shirt. Satoru broke the kiss just long enough to help you yank it over his head and toss it aside. You immediately ran your hands over his toned chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the way his muscles tensed and shivered under your touch.

He moaned softly against your lips, his large hands hovering at your waist like he was afraid to touch too much. You could feel how painfully hard he already was, his erection pressing insistently against your stomach through his pants.

You broke the kiss for air, both of you breathing heavily. You kissed along his jaw and down to his neck, sucking gently on his skin.

“Hold on.” you murmured.

You quickly unzipped and kicked off your knee-high boots, leaving yourself barefoot. The difference in height forced you onto your tiptoes as you reached for him, tugging lightly at the waistband of his jeans to pull him a little closer. Satoru noticed immediately. His hands slid to your waist, steadying you before leaning down the rest of the way.

“Fuck— you turn me on so much” you whispered against his neck.

He tilted his head to give you better access, a shaky breath leaving him when you started sucking on his skin. You licked and kissed his neck slowly, then sucked harder, leaving a hickey just below his ear.

“Ah— fuck…” he breathed, voice already hoarse.

You smiled against his skin and kept going, kissing lower, sucking another mark onto his collarbone. Satoru whimpered softly, his hips twitching forward, pressing his hard cock against you.

“You’re so sensitive here,” you murmured, licking over the fresh hickey. “I love the sounds you make.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him. His cheeks were flushed pink, lips swollen and shiny, eyes half-lidded with lust. He looked beautiful like this — desperate, and completely focused on you.

Your blouse came off next. You unclasped your bra and let it fall. His gaze dropped immediately to your bare breasts. He swallowed hard.

“You’re… so beautiful” he whispered, voice shy and breathless.

You took one of his hands and placed it on your breast. His palm was warm as he cupped you, thumb brushing tentatively over your nipple.

“Touch me more, Satoru,” you encouraged softly. “I want to feel your hands on me.”

That seemed to give him the confidence he needed. His other hand came up, both now kneading your breasts gently, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened.  He leaned in and started kissing your neck, shy at first, then growing bolder — sucking softly, then harder, leaving his own marks on your skin.

You moaned quietly, arching into him. One of your hands slid down to palm his cock through his pants, stroking him slowly. Satoru gasped against your neck, hips twitching forward into your touch.

You reached up to cup his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing over his warm cheeks as you kissed him deeply.

You broke the kiss just long enough to catch your breath, both of you breathing heavily. Then you pressed one last soft peck against his lips.

“Take off your pants” you whispered against his lips.

Without a word, he obeyed, quickly unbuttoning and pushing his pants down his long legs. He kicked them aside, now standing in front of you in just his black boxers, the fabric tented obscenely by his hard cock.

You smiled, pleased, and pressed yourself against him again. Your bare breasts brushed against his chest, your already hard nipples sensitive at the touch of his skin.

“So hard for me already…” you purred, palming him through the thin fabric. “I can’t wait to have you inside me, Satoru. I’m losing my mind.”

Neither of you seemed capable of staying still. Mouths found each other again, kisses growing sloppier with every step as you stumbled backwards. His hands clung to your waist, yours on his chest.

The back of his knees finally caught the edge of the couch. You took advantage of it, giving him one firm push against his chest.

He dropped onto the cushions with a quiet exhale, looking up at you through flushed cheeks and swollen lips, desire softening the usual shyness in his eyes.

“I’m not going to tease you anymore, Satoru,” you murmured as you slowly slid your skirt and panties down your legs, stepping out of them. “You deserve this so much.”

Satoru’s eyes followed every movement, utterly mesmerized.

Without breaking eye contact, you stepped between his legs and slowly settled onto his lap, one knee on either side of him. His hands twitched instinctively, unsure where to touch until you closed the remaining distance yourself.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in with a long, slow inhale. “I wanted this for so long…”

You lingered there for a heartbeat before reaching up to his face. Your fingers slid carefully along the frame of his glasses, lifting them off with surprising gentleness.

You placed them beside him on the couch before cupping his face again, smiling softly to yourself.

“There you are…” Your thumb traced slowly across his lower lip before cupping his jaw. “My pretty boy.”

His breath caught sharply.

He’d imagined moments like this for months—late at night, alone in his room, convincing himself it would never be anything more than a fantasy. Yet here you were, close enough for him to feel your warmth, looking at him with the same intensity he’d only ever dreamed about.

This can’t be real, his mind screamed. She’s really choosing me.

“Cat got your tongue, Toru?”

“I-I…” His voice barely came out above a whisper. "I’m sorry. It’s just... it’s too much.”

You smiled, your thumb still resting against his jaw.

“But we haven’t even started yet, baby.”

You reached down between your bodies and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. Satoru lifted his hips immediately, eager to help. His thick, hard cock sprang free, heavy and flushed dark with arousal, the tip glistening with precum. It twitched visibly under your gaze.

You wrapped your hand around the base, stroking him slowly, savoring how hot and heavy he felt in your palm. Satoru let out a shaky, broken moan, head falling back against the couch.

“F-fuck…” he whimpered, the sound so needy it sent heat rushing through you.

You positioned yourself over him, rubbing the fat, swollen head of his cock against your soaked folds. You were dripping, coating every inch of him as you teased the tip against your entrance.

The way he looked at you — like you were something sacred — made something warm bloom inside your ribs. You weren’t ready to name it yet, but it was there.

You sank down a little, taking only the head inside. Your pussy clenched tightly around it, dripping slick down his shaft.

Satoru let out a broken whimper, his hands gripping your thighs hard as he stared at the place where your hole was stretched obscenely around just the tip of his cock.

“Ahh— shit…” you gasped. “Look at how you’re stretching me.”

Satoru was trembling beneath you, breathing ragged, completely mesmerized by the sight. His fingers dug into your flesh, a high-pitched whimper escaping his throat.

“Oh my god…” he breathed shakily, eyes squeezed shut. “You’re so tight—Fuck—I can’t—”

Slowly, very slowly, you started sinking down further. Inch by inch, your tight pussy opening up around his thick length. The stretch was intense. Halfway down, you had to pause, breathing hard.

“God, you’re filling me so much,” you whispered, voice trembling. “Look how greedy my pussy is for you, Satoru. Only—fuck— for you.”

A broken whimper left his lips.

“You’re too—Ahh— too good for me,” he moaned softly, almost in disbelief.

His words made your heart clench. You leaned down and kissed him again, your hands on his chest for leverage as you continued lowering yourself, painfully slow, letting your pussy adjust to his size. The wet, squelching sound was filthy as you took another inch.

Satoru looked completely pussy-drunk — eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed, mouth open as he panted. He looked like he was about to cry from how good it felt.

You took a deep breath, locked eyes with him, and slowly sank the rest of the way down.

Satoru let out a broken, choked moan. His head fell forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Ah— shit, Satoru—” you gasped sharply.

You stayed still for a moment, just feeling him throb deep inside you. Your thoughts were swirling — this felt too good, too intimate.

He bit down hard on your neck, teeth sinking into your skin as a deep, guttural groan vibrated against you.

“Fuck— I’m sorry,” he whimpered, voice muffled against your neck, sounding genuinely overwhelmed. “It’s too much… you’re too tight… I can’t— I can’t think straight…”

The bulge in your stomach was unmistakable — a clear, obscene outline of his thick nine-inch cock deep inside you.

You lifted your hips slowly until only the fat head remained inside, then slammed back down hard. The wet slap of skin meeting skin filled the room.

You began to bounce on his cock.

At first it was slow and deep, savoring the way he stretched you open with every descent. But soon your pace quickened. You were bouncing harder, faster, your ass rippling every time you slammed down on him.

Satoru was a complete mess underneath you. He kept his face buried in your neck, biting and sucking marks into your skin while whimpering and moaning with every bounce.

The sounds were filthy — loud, wet, sloppy squelching as your soaked pussy took his entire length over and over. Your juices were dripping down his balls and onto the couch.

“Fuck—Look at me, Satoru—Ah—” you moaned, riding him like you owned him. “Tell me how good it feels.”

Satoru lifted his head, eyes glassy and teary with pleasure, lips swollen. He looked completely ruined.

“You feel perfect—fuck!—Everything about you is perfect.”

You kept bouncing on his cock, harder and faster, your ass slapping loudly against his thighs with every descent.

Satoru was losing it. His hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin as he looked up at you with glassy, desperate eyes.

“Fuck—Ahh—you’re so tight,” he moaned, voice hoarse and shaky. “I feel your pussy squeezing me so hard.”

You moaned loudly, riding him even harder.

“You’re going to kill me—Ahh—it’s too much.”

His words only made you wetter. You bounced faster, grinding your clit against him on every downstroke.

“I’m losing my fucking mind. You’re ruining me— ahh fuck— I’ve never felt anything like this. Please don’t stop,” he whimpered, voice breaking.

You were riding him relentlessly now, the couch creaking under you. Your moans were getting louder, more desperate.

“Fuck—I can’t,” your legs were burning up, your rhythm faltering a little.

But suddenly, Satoru’s grip on your hips tightened, and he took control.

He started thrusting up into you hard, meeting every bounce with powerful upward strokes. The angle changed completely — he was slamming into you so deep it knocked the air out of your lungs.

“Ah—! Fuck— Satoru!” you cried out, voice cracking.

He fucked you harder, hips snapping up brutally, driving his thick cock into you again and again. The wet slapping sounds became obscene.

“You feel so good,” he moaned against your neck.

You started moaning and whimpering uncontrollably. Loud, shameless sounds spilled from your mouth — high-pitched cries and broken whimpers that surprised even you.

“Satoru— fuck— too deep—!” you screamed, your voice cracking as he pounded into you.

You couldn’t stop the noises. Every hard thrust made you whimper and moan louder, your body shaking on top of him. You were shocked at how loud and desperate you sounded, but you couldn’t hold it back.

Satoru kept thrusting up into you with raw desperation, his thick cock slamming deep inside your pussy with every powerful stroke.

Your moans quickly turned into helpless, high-pitched whimpers.

“Ah— ah— ah—!” you cried out, the sounds spilling from your mouth uncontrollably. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard, Satoru—Fuck!”

“Fuck— shit…” he groaned, voice strained. “I’m— ahh fuck— I’m gonna cum just from listening to you.”

He fucked you even harder, driving his cock as deep as possible. Your voice cracked as you whimpered again and again.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train. It crashed through your body without warning. Your thighs clamped violently around Satoru’s hips as your pussy clenched down hard around his thick cock, spasming uncontrollably.

“Ahh—! Satoru—!” you cried out, voice breaking into a loud, shameless moan.

Your entire body shook. The pleasure was blinding. You kept moving through it, hips jerking as wave after wave ripped through you, your pussy fluttering and squeezing him rhythmically.

Satoru’s eyes widened, a broken sound tearing from his throat.

“Fuck—I’m gonna cum—” he gasped desperately, voice cracking.

His hands gripped your hips hard, trying to lift you off him, clearly fighting to pull out in time.

But you didn’t let him.

You slammed yourself down hard, taking him to the hilt again, and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, holding him in place. Your legs locked around him like a vice.

“No— stay inside,” you begged, voice trembling and urgent. “Cum inside me, Toru— I’m on the pill. Please— fill me up. I want to feel you cumming deep inside me.”

Satoru let out a wrecked, broken moan, his resistance crumbling instantly.

“Fuck— fuck—!”

With a loud, broken moan he slammed up into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt. His cock pulsed violently as he came hard, flooding your pussy with thick, hot ropes of cum. He kept thrusting up into you with short, desperate movements, pushing his load deeper while whimpering your name against your skin.

There was so much cum that it started leaking out around his cock, making everything even messier.

You held him tightly through it, one arm wrapped around his shoulders while your other hand stroked the back of his neck gently. Soft praises spilled from your lips right against his ear as he shuddered and emptied himself completely inside you.

“You’re beautiful… so, so beautiful,” you whispered, voice tender. “Such a good boy for me… You’re doing so well, Toru.”

He whimpered with every praise, the sound broken and needy, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You felt his tears against your skin as you gently wiped them away with your thumb.

“So pretty like this,” you continued softly, kissing the side of his head. “All mine… You came so much for me”

Satoru let out another shaky whimper, his arms tightening around your waist as the last pulses of his orgasm faded. His cock was still buried deep inside you, thick and warm, twitching with the aftershocks.

You both stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat and cum. 

You kept stroking his hair and the nape of his neck, murmuring soft praises until his trembling slowly subsided. His face remained hidden against your neck, almost like he was embarrassed by how hard he had cum.

“You’re okay,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “I’ve got you.”

Satoru nodded weakly against your skin, still too overwhelmed to speak properly. His cock gave one final twitch inside you, making you both sigh softly.

Slowly, almost reverently, he held your waist and lifted you off his cock. The moment the thick head slipped out of you, a huge gush of his warm cum poured out of your stretched pussy, dripping messily onto him.

He let out a low, broken moan at the sight, eyes dark as he watched his own seed leak out of you and coat his skin.

“There’s so much cum… all leaking out of you,” he whispered, voice hoarse.

You shivered at his words. He pulled you down gently until your bodies were pressed together, your cum-covered pussy resting against his softening but still heavy cock.

You leaned in and kissed him deeply, slow and filthy. Tongues sliding together, tasting each other as you both caught your breath.

After a long minute, you pulled back slightly, brushing some of his messy white hair out of his face.

“Shower?” you murmured against his lips.

Satoru nodded, eyes still dazed and soft. “Yeah… shower sounds good.”

You took his hand and led him to the bathroom. The moment you turned on the water, warm steam quickly filled the space. You stepped under the spray first, sighing as the hot water cascaded over your bodies.

For a moment, it was gentle.

You both stood under the water, smiling softly at each other. Satoru looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real. He reached out, cupping your face with both hands, and kissed you again — slower this time, sweet and lingering.

When you pulled back, you stayed close, just looking at him. Water ran down his sharp jawline, his broad shoulders, the defined lines of his chest. He was beautiful.

Satoru blushed under your gaze.

“W-what?” he asked shyly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Nothing,” you whispered, then leaned in and kissed him again, softer this time.

He felt like he was dreaming. The girl he had been secretly obsessed with for months was standing naked in the shower with him, kissing him like she couldn’t get enough. His heart was racing.

He grabbed the body wash, poured some into his hands, and started gently washing you. His soapy hands glided over your shoulders, down your arms, then across your chest. He took his time, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they hardened again.

Then he sank down to his knees in front of you.

He washed your legs carefully, hands sliding up your calves, behind your knees, then higher up your thighs. When his fingers brushed between your legs, he froze.

You were soaked again.

Not just from the shower. Your pussy was slick and puffy, still leaking his cum mixed with your own arousal.

Satoru looked up at you from his knees, water dripping from his white hair, eyes wide with awe and hunger.

You felt your face burn.

“I– This never happened to me before,” you mumbled.

Satoru tilted his head, confused.

“Feeling… insatiable,” you admitted. “I.. can’t seem to get enough of you.”

The look on Satoru’s face was pure heart-eyes. His cheeks flushed darker, but his expression was so tender it made your chest ache.

He leaned forward slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your lower belly, then lower.

Your breath hitched when his nose brushed against your clit.

“Would you let me?” he asked, voice shy but hopeful, looking up at you from under wet lashes.

“Yeah… please,” you whispered.

Satoru moaned softly. He pressed one hand against your stomach, gently pinning you back against the cool tile wall, then lifted your right leg and hooked it over his broad shoulder.

The first long, slow lick from your entrance all the way up to your clit made you moan loudly.

“Ahhh—”

You slapped one hand against the wall for balance, the other tangling into his soaked white hair.

Satoru moaned against your pussy, the vibration traveling straight through you.

He was gentle at first — soft, reverent licks, savoring the taste of both of you mixed together. But it didn’t stay gentle for long. Soon he was licking deeper, sucking softly on your clit, then fucking his tongue inside you like he couldn’t get enough.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured against your soaked folds, voice muffled. “So sweet… I’d live just for you to use me.”

You tugged his hair harder, hips rolling against his face as the hot water continued pouring over both of you.

Satoru looked up at you again, eyes dark with lust, water streaming down his face.

The memory of his own shower video flashed in your mind — him stroking his huge cock under the water, moaning for you— and it made you even wetter.

Satoru groaned against your pussy like he was the one being pleasured. His tongue flicked rapidly over your swollen clit while two long fingers pushed inside you without warning.

The sudden pace of his tongue made you cry out, back arching against the wet tile wall.

“Fuck— Satoru—!”

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but the pleasure was building again at an alarming rate.

He added a third finger, stretching you wider, and kept licking on your clit like it was the most delicious dessert in the world.

Your thighs started trembling.

The way he licked you — fast, messy, almost desperate — combined with his thick fingers pumping deep inside you was driving you insane.

He flattened his tongue and dragged it slowly up your slit, then focused entirely on your clit. He circled it with the tip of his tongue, fast and precise, before sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth with just the right pressure.

“Ah— fuck, right there—!” you moaned, hips bucking against his face, grinding against his tongue.

Satoru whimpered in response. He sucked harder on your clit, alternating between suction and rapid flicks of his tongue while his fingers curled inside you, stroking that perfect spot over and over.

He was completely lost in you, drunk on your pussy, moaning against your folds like a man starved.

“Don’t stop—” you gasped. “I’m so close.”

The words pushed him over the edge of desperation. He moaned loudly against your clit, the vibration sending shockwaves through you. His fingers fucked you faster, curling relentlessly while his tongue worked your swollen clit without mercy.

The pressure built impossibly fast.

“Oh my god— I’m— I’m gonna—”

Your back arched hard against the tile wall as you came with a loud, broken cry. Your pussy clenched violently around his fingers, and then—

You squirted.

Hard.

Clear, hot fluid gushed out of you, soaking Satoru’s face and his chest. The sensation was so sudden and intense that your eyes widened in shock.

Oh my god… he just made me squirt.

You had never squirted before in your life.

Satoru, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch. He was too far gone, too drunk on you. He moaned like he was the one cumming, eagerly drinking up as much as he could, tongue still flicking over your pulsing clit through your orgasm, completely addicted.

You were shaking, legs barely holding you up as wave after wave crashed through you. The sight of him — face buried between your legs, completely drenched in you, moaning like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted — made the pleasure even more overwhelming.

When the last tremors finally faded, you looked down at him, breathing hard, still stunned by what had just happened. You ran your fingers through his wet hair, heart pounding.

You gently tugged his hair, pulling him back just enough to look at you.

“Stand up, Satoru,” you said, voice still a little shaky but firm. “I’m going to return the favor.”

Satoru blinked up at you, water dripping from his lashes, lips shiny with your juices.

“N-no… I didn’t do it for—” he started, voice hoarse and shy.

“Shh, Toru,” you cut him off softly, thumb brushing over his swollen bottom lip. “I’m really dying to have you on my tongue.”

Satoru let out a broken, needy whimper at your words. His cock twitched hard between his legs.

He stood up slowly, legs shaky, towering over you again.

You sank down to your knees in front of him, the hot water still pouring over both of you.

Satoru’s eyes widened in shock as you grabbed his massive, wet cock with both hands. It was so thick your fingers didn’t even meet around it. You leaned in and dragged your tongue slowly from the base all the way to the leaking tip, savoring the salty taste of him and the way his cock twitched violently in your grip.

“Fuuuck—!” he moaned, head falling back against the tile wall with a soft thud.

You took him into your mouth as deep as you could, lips stretching wide around his thickness. You worked what you could manage, bobbing your head while stroking the rest with both hands in tight, wet strokes. Satoru was already trembling, soft whimpers and broken moans spilling from his lips like he couldn’t hold them back.

You pulled back for air, strings of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his cock. You smiled up at him, stroking his slick length with long, slow movements.

“Look at you… such a big, pretty cock and you’re already falling apart just from my mouth,” you purred, licking the precum from his tip like it was candy. “You’ve dreamed about this for so long, haven’t you?”

Satoru nodded frantically, breathing ragged and desperate.

“Y-yes… please— I’ve wanted your mouth for so long… I used to cum just thinking about it…”

You took him back into your mouth, sucking harder, bobbing your head while your hand twisted around the base. The wet, obscene sounds filled the shower — sloppy, filthy gagging mixed with his broken whimpers and desperate little gasps of your name.

Every time you pushed deeper and gagged around him, his thighs shook and he let out the prettiest choked moan. Tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes, but he never looked away from you.

You pulled off with a wet pop, stroking him fast with both hands while looking up at him.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you praised, voice low and sweet. “Letting me use this big cock however I want… Such a good boy for me.”

“Ahhh— Yes– Yes— I’m your good boy,” he moaned, voice breaking beautifully. “I’ll be so good for you… please don’t stop—”

You moaned around his cock and took him even deeper, gagging wetly as tears mixed with the shower water on your cheeks. You loved how he filled your mouth, how heavy and hot he felt on your tongue, how he throbbed every time you swallowed around him.

Satoru’s hand hovered near your head, fingers twitching like he wanted to grab your hair but was still too shy to do it.

You pulled off just enough to speak, lips brushing against his leaking tip.

“You can grab my hair, Toru,” you ordered softly.

His fingers immediately tangled in your wet hair, not pulling hard, but holding you there as you sank back down on him.

The sounds he made were filthy and perfect — high-pitched whimpers, broken moans of your name, desperate little sobs every time you took him to the back of your throat.

You could feel him getting closer, his cock swelling even thicker in your mouth, his thighs trembling violently.

You looked up at him, eyes watering, and hummed around his length — a clear “cum for me” vibration.

With a loud, broken cry, Satoru came hard down your throat, his hips jerking uncontrollably.

Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your mouth. You swallowed as much as you could, but there was so much it spilled from the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin. You kept sucking him through it, milking every last drop until he was trembling and whimpering from the overstimulation.

Satoru stared down at you like you were a goddess, chest heaving, eyes full of awe and adoration, looking at you like you were the only thing in his universe.

When you finally pulled off with a wet pop, you didn’t swallow everything. You kept a thick load of his cum on your tongue.

You looked up at him and slowly rose to your feet. Satoru’s breath hitched, eyes locked on your mouth.

You stepped closer, cupped his face with both hands, and kissed him deeply.

You pushed your tongue into his mouth, feeding him his own cum.

Satoru moaned loudly into the kiss — a broken, filthy sound that vibrated against your lips. The taste of himself mixed with your saliva made him shudder. His hands grabbed your waist tightly as he kissed you back desperately, sucking on your tongue like he couldn’t get enough of the dirty act. He whimpered against your mouth when you finally pulled back just enough to breathe.

You smiled, wicked and satisfied, and licked his lips one more time.

“Good boy.”

Satoru’s eyes darkened even more. He looked completely dazed, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged.

You leaned in and kissed him again, softer this time — slow, sweet, and full of affection. His arms wrapped around you gently, holding you close under the warm spray.

For the next few minutes, the shower turned tender.

You took turns washing each other. Satoru poured body wash into his hands and carefully cleaned you, his touch gentle as he ran soapy palms over your shoulders, down your back, and between your legs. He was almost shy about it, but his eyes never left your body.

You did the same for him — washing his chest, his arms, his back, and carefully cleaning his softening cock, which still twitched at your touch.

There were lots of soft smiles, quiet laughter, and stolen kisses under the water.

When you were both clean, you turned off the shower and dried each other with big, fluffy towels.

You led him to your bed, both of you still wrapped in towels. You dropped yours first and climbed under the covers, then patted the spot beside you.

Satoru hesitated for a moment, standing there in just his towel, looking unsure.

“You… really want me to stay?” he asked quietly, voice small. “I mean… I don’t want to assume anything. If you’d rather I go home, I—”

You sat up a little, reaching for his hand.

“Relax, Satoru. I want you to stay,” you said softly but firmly.

His shoulders relaxed. A shy, beautiful smile spread across his face as he dropped the towel and slid into bed beside you.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. You just lay there, faces close, looking at each other in the dim light of your room.

Satoru’s blue eyes were soft, almost vulnerable as he studied your face. You reached up and brushed a strand of damp white hair away from his forehead.

Neither of you said anything more. You simply stayed like that — faces close, breathing slow and steady.

Well… you’ll figure the rest tomorrow, you thought, a small smile on your lips as sleep finally pulled you under.

Uggghhh. FINALLY!!!!

Reblogs are sooo appreciated the final part will be out tonight 6pm et! masterlist

WANNA BE ON TOP! (5k)

— bakugou katsuki x f!reader

synopsis: your boyfriend looks so good whenever you’re on top that it makes you shy. when are you ever shy?! you wanna sort this out asap or you ride bakugou trying to figure out which position feels best

what’s coming up: 18+, a whole load of smut this is lowkey pwp. p in v, riding, multiple positions, making out, head (f receiving), established relationship, overstimulation (m)

notes: antm title. listen i can’t explain what happened to me. needs another proofread i think.

you mention this one night wrapped in katsuki’s arms about to go to sleep. you’re doing the compulsory three minute spoon until you both pull away and get comfortable at your respective sides of his bed.

this time it’s you spooning him, your leg over his hip, your arm around his waist. you rub your lips over his shoulder and sniff his hair.

“i really want to get better at being on top.” you mumble into his skin, eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness around you.

katsuki shifts his head on the silk pillowcase. you told him to change fabrics to protect his hair (you really meant yours) and he listened, new ivory cases the next time you saw him.

“hah?” it’s a quiet one, not like his usual booming loud ones that hit the back of your eardrum.

“i never feel like i know what i’m doing when i’m on top and i get so shy. i am literally never shy! ever. then you just end up doing the work.” you whine, “i want to be able to be on top and do it well. make us both feel good.”

katsuki breathes in through his nose and out his mouth. you’re having a conversation with him. about sex yes, but this isn’t you offering to have sex now. despite this, the blood rushes to his cock by simply imagining you riding him to oblivion. your head thrown back as your hips grind down on him.

it is true. he’s never seen you shy in any other part of your life or relationship. usually during sex, you’re confident and excited. hell, you’re okay with walking around his apartment naked. but for some reason, you sitting on his cock, legs straddling his waist makes you shy in a way bakugou doesn’t understand.

sfw. itadori yuuji x gn reader

syn. during one of your sleepovers with your dear boyfriend, he decides that… you make the perfect chew toy ..?

w.c: 969

characters included — ( katsuki , eijiro , denki , shoto ) ♡

𑣲 katsuki —

you’re on the gym mat doing deep hamstring stretches, bending over the bench when you glance up and catch his reflection in the mirror wall.

katsuki is standing a few feet back, but his eyes are heavily hooded and glued straight to the curve of your ass. the exact second his eyes shift up and lock onto yours in the glass, he doesn't even flinch or look away.

instead, he steps right up behind you, holding your hips to 'guide' you. "yeah, i'm looking. you're bending over right in front of me, what the hell do you expect?" he grumbled, scoffing to cover his tracks.

"besides, your form is completely shit, idiot." he knows damn well he's lying to himself, and as you lock eyes in the mirror, a smirk spreads across your face, only for him to also smirk with a low chuckle.

𑣲 eijiro —

you’re standing in front of his full-length mirror adjusting the tight outfit you put on for your date, looking in the reflection just in time to catch eijiro leaning against the doorframe, completely mesmerized.

his jaw drops a little the second your eyes meet in the glass, and a huge, proud grin breaks across his face.

he walks right up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull your back flush against his chest as he openly drinks in the sight of how good you look. "yeah, i'm totally staring." he murmured and chuckled against your neck as his hands slide down to your waist.

"it’d be unmanly as hell if i didn't look at my girl when she looks this beautiful. you're making it really hard for us to actually leave the house tonight."

The music from the party blared throughout the frat house, bodies danced together, and empty liquor bottles littered every table.

You should be out enjoying yourself on the dance floor, instead, you’re in the kitchen trying to avoid a certain white haired frat boy.

“Hey, sweets, long time no see.”

His voice made you jump, nearly spilling the drink that you were nursing. “Jeez, Satoru, don’t sneak up on me like that,” you turned to face him, in all his backwards baseball cap and white vest glory.

The man shrugged, “Can’t help it, missed my favourite girl.” You rolled your eyes at him, “Satoru, we aren’t even dating.”

Yawning dramatically, he slung an arm over your shoulder, “Blah blah! You know you want all this.” As if to prove a point, he began to wiggle his hips in what can only be described as a feeble attempt to ‘woo’ you.

A soft chuckle escaped you at his movements, “What the hell are you doing?” Satoru stopped in his tracks, deadpanning, “Showing you what you’re missing out on, babe.”

You laughed harder at his serious expression, going as far as doubling over. Satoru huffed in mock offence, “Alright, it’s not that funny.”

The music rung through the kitchen as he began to pour himself something that was probably mostly sugar.

“Y’know…” he drawled, “There’s a courthouse about ten minutes away.”

You cocked a brow, “And..?”

“And…” he mimicked, “Don’t you think we should like, get married or something?”

GO HOME! (2.5k)

— bakugou katsuki x reader

your boyfriend doesn’t want to go home. cw: suggestive, swearing, pretty tame

“i can hear you not putting your shoes on!” you shout from your kitchen, refilling up your water bottle by your sink.

it’s nearing eleven pm on a weekday and you’re nearing the end of your bedtime routine. after finishing your final session of tussling in bed with your boyfriend, you sleepily got to showering and doing your skincare while bakugou was tasked to go back home.

you’re screwing your lid back onto your bottle, bag of popcorn under one arm as you step into your foyer. you find your boyfriend slumped in your chair for putting shoes on, doing exactly not that.

bakugou katsuki is in his thick grey socks, a random pair of black joggers he left at your flat and his oversized khaki hoodie. he looks handsome, always does, but this time he’s appearing a little disheveled. a flower wilting as the clouds begin hiding the sun.

you’re his precious sun with the energy to keep him happy and at peace, till he’s forcefully pulled from your grip.

his hoodie is unzipped, the right side awkwardly longer than the left from being dragged on in a tantrum. his white tee underneath is creased from yanking it over his head with a guttural sigh. he’s even got a water stain on it from hovering over you when you washed your face in the bathroom.

he’s got his head in his hands, legs spread with his travel duffle by his feet. he hasn’t even managed to grab his shoes off your neatly organised rack by your door.

you potter over to him, shaking your head softly with a sweet coo.

bakugou does not want to go home.

i. you’re standing outside a convenience store because satoru’s body refuses to go six hours without eating something sweet (read: two handfuls worth of snacks) so there you are, bored—waiting for him to stop flirting with the cashier (old lady, 72, loving it).

he’s really taking forever. you scroll on your phone, suddenly remembering the pack to grab spearmint gum in your bag. it’s something to do. you grab it, pop a piece in your mouth, and think nothing of it.

big mistake.