Ë áĄŁđŠ âš ŕŁŞ ๨ŕ§Ëâ for @decalcomanian's fanfic recomendations . mostly jjk and evan peters

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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Mike Driver
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
trying on a metaphor
todays bird
Xuebing Du
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Game of Thrones Daily
Not today Justin
Today's Document
AnasAbdin

shark vs the universe
Jules of Nature
Cosimo Galluzzi
almost home
taylor price
will byers stan first human second
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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Ë áĄŁđŠ âš ŕŁŞ ๨ŕ§Ëâ for @decalcomanian's fanfic recomendations . mostly jjk and evan peters

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Grell!! Grell!! Grell!!!
Frankly, Mr. Gojo â in which frat boy! gojo swears on everything that he is not in love with his tutor.
frat boy! gojo is not surprised to say the least when he gets asked to stay after class by his professor to discuss his grade. and he couldnt care less when one of the biggest parties of the year was coming up meaning he was responsible for picking out the theme. âso, whatâs the verdict?â
âthe verdict is youâre not going to pass this course, satoru. may i kindly ask of you to please put down your phone for just a second?â you could clearly hear the distress in the professors voice.
âhold on i wasnât talking to you,â satoru interrupted. âme and my brothers are trying to figure out what the theme of our next party should be. iâm thinking teen beach, does that sound good?â
the professor took a deep breath, mentally calming himself from lashing out at his own student. âthere wonât be any party of yours if this grade doesnât get fixed.â
that certainly got satoruâs attention.
ęŠ â SATORU GOJO really likes the way reader says his name .á
(18+) :: content â gojo x fem!reader, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, voice kink
satoru really likes the way you say his name.
other people never get it right, in his opinion. thereâs always a vowel thatâs too drawn out, or a consonant thatâs pronounced too sharply. he only ever smiles and nods when people say his name like that â itâs fine, sure. but itâs not right.
itâs become something very particular for him.
itâs not sah-toe-roo.
heâs also heard sahh-to-roo.
and some people will extend those vowels past their welcome.
but you? it glides off your tongue like honey.
sa-to-ru.
he likes the way it gets all sharp on your lips when youâre mad at him. satoru would never admit it to you, but sometimes heâll piss you off on purpose whenever heâs in the mood to hear how you sharpen the consonants like knives when you're telling him off.
âwhat?â the sorcerer sits back in your office chair, the faintest traces of a completely intentional grin on his face.
heâd come in early for once in his life for this exact purpose; satoru knew you always came in devastatingly punctual, so heâd make sure to greet you the best way he knew how to make your morning: by sitting in your office and kicking his feet up on your paperwork.
you loved things clean. itâs cute. he wants you fucking messy, though!
and youâre seething so adorably, with your face all scrunched up and your shiny eyes narrowed. âdoes this look like your office, gojo?â
nope. not what he wants to hear.
satoru sits up abruptly, making a show out of glancing around the room, before letting out an exhale of a laugh. âyou know, all the offices look suspiciously similar. might wanna bring it up with the higher-ups.â
âget out.â
âdid you get enough sleep last night?â he tilts his head, feigning concern. âyouâre being awfully rude about this.â
the way you narrow your eyes makes satoru wish he could see them glitter with crystallized tears, with his weight on top of you as he slides his tongue between your thighsâ
you suck in a breath past pretty lips. âiâm not in the mood. yaga has me on the clock. please just give me this, gojo.â
please, you say, and it makes him smile smugly. satoru loves hearing it (although heâd love hearing it beneath the dark of a particularly low-lit bedroom), but he needs more. needs your voice to wrap around his name like you own it.
âplead nicer. unfortunately for you, iâm in the mood.â
âfuck, no.â
he leans further back into your chair. âdidnât hear you. sorry?â
âsatoru.â
there it is. sa-to-ru; just the way he likes.
on other days, even when youâre rendered all sheepish and embarrassed at one of his jokes, satoru just canât get enough of the way you say his name.
this time, your tone dulls around the edges, always muttered under your breath in front of important people when heâs threatened to embarrass you with something heâs said â itâs soft and small and stern all at the same time, dancing through the air like warm fucking breeze in the winter. he just wishes you wouldnât be so quiet about it; if the sorcerer had a choice, heâd have your voice on repeat.
he already does, in a way.
itâs why satoruâs taken to teasing you specifically whenever you have faculty meetings in front of the higher-ups, or whenever youâre particularly engrossed in a lesson with your students, just to see you when youâre caught off your game and a tiny bit upset.
satoru loves you when youâre pouting, loves when your lips press flat into a thin line or when the inside of your cheek catches between your teeth, like youâve got a retort on the tip of your sweet tongue but wonât let it slip for your own sake. so fucking considerate all the time.
youâre unbelievably gorgeous when youâre so composed.
and you let that sweet little breath of his name slip from your mouth when heâd push you a little too far during your class with your first years on reverse cursed technique. your eyes fixate on the ground, lips downturned, as satoruâd just gotten all of your students to laugh at a little jab towards your explaining methods.
âsatoru.â you chastised in a small mumble, âletâs talk after my class, please.â
sa-to-ru.
god, that little whisper will be in his dreams tonight.
heâll hear it over and over again and wish youâd mumbled it right against his earlobe, because no one else ever deserved to hear your voice like that.
âthatâs awfully secretive, sensei. whatâs so important that our beloved students canât listen in on it, hm?â he knows what youâre getting at, of course.
but truthfully, he just wants to see your face contort with that fiery little expression, the same one he wanted to mouth at every inch of until nothing was left but pure bliss.
and satoruâs not shy about the way his heartbeat picks up when you nudge yourself a tiny bit closer, just to make sure heâs the only one who can hear what you say next. just so that your voice is only for him.
as it fucking should be.
the sorcererâs hand just about brushes your hip, and save him if it isnât taking everything in him to make sure he doesnât grab you and pull you into his side like he has the right to do so.
âi donât want my beloved students to hear me threaten to kill their sensei right here,â oh. satoruâs mind goes deliciously numb.
he grins, the edge of his mouth upturning slowly. âiâd love to see you try.â
you frown a tiny bit more.
âwhat exactly do you get out of pissing me off all the time?â
well.
â.á
fratboy satoru becomes pathetic in fear of you finding out about his secret. 18+
(part one)
love. a four lettered word written in swift strokes, uttered with imprudence. however, the word held depth. even more so, when it was used in a sentence. âi love youâ.
but in japanese, the word held intense meaning. âćăăŚăâ
mouths refrained from uttering it due to the abysmal warmth it had cradled. a phrase kept in the custody of hearts, locks rigid enough to keep it aseptic.
romanticists weighed the phrase to be a part of scripture and for satoru, it was no different. for the fact, he had been a part them once. before the frat lifestyle had invaded his existence.
before the instillment of arrogance, there had been intense insecurity. once upon a time, his metallic frames shielded his poor cyan visions. once upon a time, he was interested in theoretical such as boltzmann brainâ encouraged to pursue quantum physics. once upon a time, he had steered away from foams of alcohol and smokes of cigarettes despite culture insisting upon it.
once upon a time, he had been lonely.
loneliness ate his bones like maggots devouring a dead body. solitude had become plastered on to him like wet clothes on skin. satoru hadnât known of anything other than himself. satoru wasnât allowed to know of anything other than himself. because he was different.
his pallid skin was luminous within the dark. his snow-like hair caused commotion for sights. his cerulean eyes captured all the oceans in those little orbs. he was a vision different from the typical, unfortunately, that became his curse.
cold touches of absence had stroked kisses on him as divine punishment for his parentsâ sins. an unhappy marriage that reluctantly ended with him.
loneliness mangled him. ever since childhood. love absent.
he was three when he would toddle his way over to his parentsâ vacant room and sleep on the middle of the empty bed, drifting to dreams where they resided in love. he was six when he had learned how to make toast for himself, sitting on the empty chairs imagining their presences at his sides. he was ten when he had finally accepted that he was just a nominal to them.
he had yearned for acceptance. he wanted to fit in. and somehow, he did. when he had accepted party invites. when he switched his metallic frames for clear lenses. when he let his hair settle in a mess instead of immaculacy. when he had forcibly let out laughter on incel jokes.
he finally fit in.
but on certain nights, he had always remembered one thing. one thing his parents always did with a facade.
his parentsâ pacifying him with one lie. âi love youâ. a semantic satiation to him. they said it as if it didnât mean anything.
but to satoru, it meant everything. hence why, he never said it to anyone.
âwhatâs wrong, toru?â you asked, wiping away the lone tear that inertly slipped down his pastry-like cheeks. your brows shifted from concern. your fingertips subtly caressed at the damp trail carved by his sole tear. you sifted his face but all you could see was a slight lift at the corner of his chapped lips.
âćăăŚăâ (i love you)
you had stopped, completely. as if your blood had completely gone cold. your eyes traced his face for any sense of regret or dishonesty but you found none. only a trembling truth.
slow tears ran its course down his face. you tried to wipe them but all he did was shake his head with a sarcastic chuckle.
âslap meâ
âw-what?â you stuttered, needing assurance for what he had just said. âslap me, baby, pleaseâ his tone was soft, compared to the usual teasing lilt he possessed.
âslap me, please. câmon. slap me, pretty girl.â he affirmed, harder. his hands tangled around your waist, pulled you closer. your chest adjacent to his. âwhy? waitâ is this some kink thing?â your viridity sparked a light chuckle from him once again.
âyeah, it isâ but it was a lie. truthfully, he wanted to repent for his actions. for the deception he had been giving you for the past months.
for taking that bet in order to fit in. to keep his name.
but right now, and for the last few months, he hadnât wanted all of that. he had changed, in all honesty and subtlety.
âslap meâ and you did. a faint mark of your hand imprinted itself on his pale cheek. impact robust enough to turn his head to the side. his eyes stuck in place, his irises dilating. for a second, you thought, maybe you hurt him. for a second, you saw another lone tear slid down, now against the red stained mark.
satoru gritted his teeth. it hurt but fuck, he deserved it. âslap me, harderâ. the corners of his eyes were red, holding back tears despite them already falling.
he felt pathetic. felt insecure. felt numb. just like before. before the whole bet.
the palm of your hand connected with his face again, this time, harder. âare you s-sureââ before you could finish, you heard him.
âride me. please.â
you moved against him, squelching sounds accompanied as your hole submerged his thick cock in. your raw pussy driving itself repeatedly on to his cum smeared shaft. the slap of skin on skin echoed vibrantly, moans engulfing.
his hands lay on flat on the mattress as he leaned back as if touching in any other way than lust would contaminate you with his dirt.
âfuck, ride me harder, pleaseâ. his tone was truly pathetic. it was of need. âdamn it, please, please, please. donât ever leave meâ he was begging, pathetic. you werenât sure what was going on. truly, you didnât know what had initiated this change in him. he was not his usual self of arrogance and sarcasm.
but why would you ever leave him? he was the best lover you could ever ask for.
the one who was merit enough to seep in to the crevices of your sealed heart.
the one who had once drenched himself in the blistering rain for three hours because you were foolishly mad at him after an argument. the one who sweetly laughed at you and carried you to the bathroom when you had stained his sheets with your period blood. the one who had pricked his hands once when sewing your torn plushie as a little surprise. the one who would bow his head with a smirk saying âmâladyâ whenever he picked you up for a date.
how could you ever leave him?
while satoru wondered, when will you leave him? would it be after finding out about that nightâ where drinks were passed around with topics. where naoya had started the conversation and mahito led it to taking your virginity for a year of paid drinks.
âseriously, donât be a pussyâ snickers of so had taunted satoru. and there it was, a poke in his head of insecurity and neglect. and in a covert panic, he had agreed.
and if that was the reason for your leave, would he be the bearer of truth? noâ no, he wouldnât. not at all. for once in his life, he had a nepenthe. he wasnât going to let that slip. let him whelve the truth, just once more.
ink splattered on to the sky, stars glimmering in competition with the incandescent moon. satoru, stood in front of the open window, lost in thought. once again, in a reverie.
the weather carried a placid breeze, the petals of spring, cherry blossoms, falling from its trees signifying end. the loss of something beautiful. satoru loved the blossoms. something so beautiful, something so like you.
wet footprints of yours tainted the lacquered floor, stopping next to him. the moonâs milk glow, parallel to his skin, rayed on to you.
âćăăŚăâ (i love you). he reminisced about it. on what he had said today. he hadnât regretted it, wholeheartedly. he was made with every filth in existence, you distilled him. you had softened his sharp edges where he became a dull knife at your mercy.
and he was about to say it again, this time with a smileâ
until
âsatoru, was i just a bet?â
those atlantic eyes of his widened. hastily darting on to the phone you were holding, his phone that you were holding. chat opened. the group-chat between him, naoya and mahito.
before you could even slip out anymore words, his knees weakened as he fell on to the ground like the petals of cherry blossom.
do we make him suffer ..
taglist @blueyesuguru @miakanzaki @kentosoneandonly @taistoibelle @yungglean2003 @trsh-kitty @cooturee @whimmyjoi @sillyheartmoonnyx @nicolovesutoo @younghideoutberserker @tati-na @arminsgfloll @suyeomiiee @labbratz @loomislvrs

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fratboy satoru gets too possessive during sex because of his secret. 18+
satoru gojo, the man whom you had given your heart to after he had been courting you for two months. at first, it didnât make sense to you nor your friends.
satoru gojo, the man in the fraternity, who would ingest vodka in a shot while having a marlboro adorning his fingers.
satoru gojo, who would be known to satisfy himself to the exploding basses of incoherent music, flashes of purple, green and red lights embracing his party freak nature.
satoru gojo who would have a (new) girl every week, her grasping on to his sturdy forearm as they stumbled in to cramped dorms.
satoru gojo, who had the reputation of being a charmer who couldnât obtain a relationshipâ not because there was something lacking within him, but, because he never understood the importance of having some sort of romantic established connection.
so, you did wonder as to why satoru would try to get your attention, your time, your words. you were nothing like him.
in fact, you guys were truly polar opposites. your faculties didnât align (he was in business, you were in humanities), your personalities didnât align (he was an extrovert, you were an introvert) and most of all, your reputation (he was a fraternity member, you were known as the quiet, shy girl who refrained from engaging with men without necessity).
so, truly, how did it get here?
where your cheeks were pressed on to the mellow cotton of the pillow. where the white sheets of the bed were heavily wrinkled because of the way you clenched it within your fists. where you tried to mutter out his name in any way possible, âsa-satoruâmhmâ. where you didnât know if you wanted him to slow his pace down or keep going at this rate like a brute animal.
his cock was expanding in your hole it seemed, the firm veins were pulsating against your plush walls. his tip, the oh so pink tinted head of his cock you had come to love was stimulating your cervix. his balls were slapping on to your pounded pussy while both his hands held on to your waist, preventing you to move from the maddening position he had you in.
you felt it. his hands had shifted. one of them, framed with veins, had come around to feel the bulge on your wombâ signifying to you, that he was in you, too deep. while the other hand spread its large palm on one of your ass cheeks.
âfuck yeah doll, wanâ me to put a baby in this huh?â he groaned, his breath cutting between the words. âwanâ me to, fuck, make you full? leakinâ from me? shit just say yes baby.â you had rested your flustered cheek on to the pillow, your iris moving to the corner to see him. god. he was a vision of pure ecstasy. his white hair too frivolous, the bangs had been plastered on to sweaty forehand, his chest heaving with red scratches from the previous sessions.
you saw the bridge too, not vivid, just a slight blur but enough to make blood rush hastily into your face. creamy paste clustered around the rim of his cock, the base was too slimy, an evidence of the lustrous passion. âno oneâs havinâ you like this, fuck, only me. only me. onlyâ he groaned as he slapped against your rim faster and faster.
âshit, i swear iâm gonna marry you, my wifeâ âneed you, ugh, in the morninâs, noons and nights in my fucking house ând my fucked up lifeâ he wouldnât shut up, not at all. his groans gritted. his voice going sore.
ânobody gets this. this pussy. this body. no one will have you. no oneâ his breath cut hard. you gasped as he hit the spot too perfect, his entire length inside you. he was ramming into you as his fingers gathered both your dainty wrists behind your back in a single grip.
slap sounds of his skin meeting yours echoed too loud. tomorrow might be awkward with your neighbors.
âiâm never leavinâ you, ngh, never. yerâ not goinâ anywhere from meâ he was close, you could tell. his thrusts were way faster now, too fast. rapid with the way he moved while biting his lower lips, plumper shade of red now.
you had already came earlier than him while he had to remove himself and stroke to milk out even the littlest remaining bit.
you were gasping, for air and dissatisfaction from the loss of contact. he was too rough today, contrasting to his usual selfâ the sweet, the careful and the softly doting.
his clammy palm had slithered its way on to your waist, turning you around. your back on the mattress, your front to his view. you noted around. clothes scattered on floor while the condom box sat lonely on the bedside table because satoru wanted to go raw this time, just to âfeel youâ.
satoru had finished wiping you with the wet towel, throwing it on the little table, knocking off the durex box. he planted himself beside, close. too close like he wanted to be your second skin. his head rested low on to your chest as you giggled. he had always been very clingy after sex. always liked having his hair played with by you. only you.
âwas something wrong today? you were a bit .. rough..â you tentatively asked with a shy gaze on to him, only able to see the slope of his nose and the outline of his lips. he scrambled deeper in to your embrace, his breath exhaling on your spent nipple making you shiver.
âno, just, i love you. so fucking muchâ it was true. he did love you. you were his first girlfriend in a long time, since middle school.
he loved you. completely and irrevocably.
hence, it haunted him. what if you found out?
what if you found out that the two of you existed together only because of a stupid bet made between him and his friends during an alcoholic stupor.
drinks paid for the whole year if he took your virginity.
part two
#3. how exactly did you meet the satoru gojo ?
â no beta . . .
nerd!toru has always been the toughest nut to crack: a well known campus heartthrob for girls who fantasized about being dominated by quiet guys, who could honestly care less about them and their delusions.
nerd!toru never seemed like the type of guy that would spare even the slightest glance at a pretty girl. with his stoic, cold facade, paired with his natural rbfâhe surely looked like the kind of man who would sneer at any, AND every woman who tried to flirt with him.
at least, that was until...
nerd!toru caught sight of you during one of the frat parties his infamous twin launched. you sat happily on one of the rough sofas, damaged leather digging into the soft skin under your thighs.
nerd!toru was instantly captivated by the small, gentle smile that painted your glossy lips. how you held that aura of warmth so naturally, as if it was nothing more but instinct to you. you conversed with many people, all dropping by to create small talk, obviously comfortable with your presence.
you stuck out like a sore thumb, in the best way possible. a sliver of calm in a sea of chaos and obnoxiously sweaty crowd of university students.
his heart slowed, and for a second, it felt as though there were drums within his ears. his face flushed faintly, a light tinge of pink dusting his cheeks. his lips remained pursed, but he wasn't aimlessly staring at the walls anymore. instead, he was staring at you.
nerd!toru has always been logical. it wasn't insane to say that he was borderline obsessed with being calculative, always creating equations that made various solutions for the problems in his life.
tonight, he was faced with a strange dilemma. yet another variable in his storyâexcept, you were unknown. unexpected. unpredictable.
so, nerd!toru created equations to solve you.
"yo," he called out to his twin, whose hands were currently wrapped around some random accountancy student. "bro!" nerd!toru frowned, quick to be annoyed with frat!toru's antics.
"you havin' fun, lil guy?" frat!toru laughed, head thrown back carelessly as he moved closer to nerd!toru, throwing an arm around his shoulder. nerd!toru clicked his tongue, gesturing towards you in that cute pink dress. "you know who that is?" he asked.
frat!toru took a minute to squint and observe, focused in your direction, before widening his eyes with a relaxed, knowing grin. he glanced towards his twin, a teasing tone in his smooth, raspy voice. "why? you interested?" he cooed.
"just tell me her name." nerd!toru hissed, rolling his eyes at the scent of cheap alcohol stuck onto frat!toru's shirt. "gotchu," frat!toru threw his hands up in defense, "that's y/n l/n, from the psychology department. biiiiggg sweetheart, that one. such a good girl." he sighed, batting his eyes dreamily, before he chuckled.
"exactly your type, i think. want her insta?" frat!toru smirked. with a casual hum, nerd!toru nods in response, "actually, i think i've got it from here." he taps frat!toru's shoulder in reluctant appreciation, before boldly making his way to you.
you were completely oblivious to the absolute hunk of a man coming your way, absorbed in your own little world. nerd!toru approached with purpose, quiet confidence in every stride.
"hi," nerd!toru's calm, velvety voice reached you, as you jumped ever so slightly in surprise. "oh! hello..?" you greeted back hesitantly, unsure if it was you he was speaking to, only to be reassured by his weight dipping into the seat beside you.
"you seem pretty composed and put together for a girl who's currently in a frat party." he muttered out curiously, a hint of amusement in his tone. you chuckle, rubbing your nape out of habit. "really? i was.. kind of thinking about ways to dip, and hurry home to read my books."
his eyebrow raised in interest, "what books are you into?" you smile, "psychology. you know, stuff like research and thesis. maybe casual books too, where i can dissect a character's background and their issues." you laughed. he didn't. instead, he stared. unabashedly. intentionally.
"that's.. interesting. i usually lean towards chemistry- er, you know, my course." he shrugged, observing you from the corner of his eyes.
"that's cool! chemistry and psychology are actually very intertwined, you know? have you read any books about that? stuff like neuropsychology and neuropsychiatry!â" you began to ramble on and on, pulled into the topic which clearly featured both of your majors.
he smiled. a small tug on the corner of his lips. 'gotcha.' he engaged in the conversation almost immediately, attentively asking questions and making valid points that ignite the sparkles in your eyes.
he walked you out as the clock struck 1:00 in the morning. your friends, already in a drunken haze, slumped in the backseat of your car. "can i have your number? maybe, your socials too? i had a good time today." you grinned, albite a tad bit drowsy.
nerd!toru smiled in return, "of course."
the equation was already being solved, but for some reason, he wouldn't mind if he kept solving forever.
masterlist.
taglist.
Gojo fucks his crush (who has a crush on his best friend)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut with no plot, fem!reader, p in v, coming on face, reader has/had a crush on Geto, Geto is kind of a jerk, fourth year setting (all characters are aged up to +18), pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart)
a/n: first time writing smut, so please bear with me!
art by @/thatsallchief (i love their art so much)
Gojo Satoru knew that his crush liked his best friend.
The way your eyes wandered around the room, and instead of landing on him, it always settled on the black-haired boy that was sitting next to him.
And he always watched your heart get broken when your ears perked up at the sound of Suguruâs voice, low, leisure, and level as though it was a daily occurrence to be talking in the classroom about how he booked a hotel with a university girl, studying nursing or some other shit, to spend the night with.Â
Shoko would stick her tongue out, wrinkling her nose in distaste as she stared at her phone, while Gojo would laugh for a moment, making fun of Suguru playfully as always before turning to look at you, eyes concerned.
And his darling crush, gentle and kind even when your heart is shattered into pieces, would always smile awkwardly, uncomfortable as your murmured a faint complaint about appropriate behaviour at school grounds, or sometimes nothing at all when Suguruâs description became too detailed, too promiscuous.
The worst part was⌠Suguru knew.
Suguru knew that your rosy cheeks were meant for him, that her gentle voice was only directed at him.
He even casually complained how to indirectly let your down, not wanting to confront the awkwardness since he still thought of you as a precious, fellow classmateâthe one that would always give him a piece of candy to get rid of the horrid taste of the curses he swallow.
Suguru was appreciative of your kindness, but not enough to reject you directly with kind words.
That was why it always made Satoru grit his teeth in fury at his best friend, whom he still deeply cared for, but also from annoyance at the way you always let him run over you, still naively trying to cling to the hope that somehow Suguru would like you back.
Satoru knew that you werenât just a crushâhe adored you, loved you, that it sometimes hurt to look at you from the way you made his heart race.
For the way you would hide your eyes away when they welled with tears whenever Suguru breaks your heart, not wanting to disturb the moment with your friends. The way you would smile gently at Satoru when your eyes meet. The way you would giggle slightly when Gojo pokes your cheek teasingly. The way you would prettily part your lips for a bite for a piece of strawberry Pocky that would make him swallow as something else flash behind his eyes, imagining how they would feel wrapped around his tipâ
texts w bf bikerjo
minors dni
on the strings of his wife.
mdni, nsfw drabble, fem reader, sub/switch!satoru, alcohol/intoxication implications but not really drunk drunk, heavy make out session, hickeys, grinding, theyâre married.
âsatoru canât handle liquor.â well actually he canât handle his wife after a drink with her friends. cause she turns obnoxiously annoying? nope, but because he canât keep up with her energy when she is. which was ironic, heâs satoru gojo.
the problem is that how his wife is currently on his lap as she leaves marks after marks from his neck to the collarbone. why did this happen? well because her drunken self thought her husband was hot when he came by to pick her up or that she was on a whole emotion rollercoaster and decided that making her husband go insane is the best thing to do. well, whatever it is; he doesnât really complain. but only that uh.. the problem? she isnât letting him get what he wants.
sheâs not even that drunk, sheâs just tipsy enough to gain the confidence to do this on purpose.
âbabyââ a hitch came out of him as she pushed his arm down, followed a moan right after when she moved just a little more; he could feel his pants tightening tighter as he could feel the fraction of her grinds and good god, it was driving him insane. she could feel it, he knows that for sure; she just chooses to avoid the growing throbbing bulge on it. ââtoruu, stop movinââ you complained, and he looks at you, as he opened his mouth; you slid into it before a word could come out. âmpâhâ
oh, shit. when the two of you kissed, he had to move the parts of your hair thatâs covered in sweat. pulling the strands out to the back, pulling you just a tiny closer in the process; you pulled out of the kiss in gasp as his escaped a groan. ââtoruu, you really want this, do you?â when does he not? âyeah.â he admits pretty vaguely, as your thigh moves a little closer to wrap around his waist, now he could really feel his dick poking out to your ass. and itâs embarrassing, you just giggled the moment you realized.
you grab onto his face and forced him to look at you in the eyes, âsay please?â for being the strongest man on the planet, heâs really helpless for you isnât he? he swallowed his pride, not that he has it with you. âplease, sweetheart?â you smiled at the term of endearmentâ giving in another kiss, âattaboy.â
â đŞll rights reserved, auelisse on tumblr.

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game on! ęą peter maximoff x gf!reader ââ 18+ ; mdni âł sex bets, bjs, banter, little bit of hair-pulling ââ wc: 0.5k ââ a/n: reqs open for a bit!
okay. fine. so you were skeptical. if anything, your cynicism was indicative of how well you knew him, which was a nice way to spin it. and peter was kind of a slut. especially when it came to you.Â
the first time satoru saw you he had to do a double take. he had to control the hummingbird he had for a heart. but he couldnât stop the beautiful roses blooming on his cheeks. nor the way his lips parted in awe. giving you the kind of look thatâs depicted in movies and novels.
youâd think that you were wearing a glittering gown, but instead you were wearing sweatpants and one of suguruâs t-shirts.
youâve heard of satoru before from your brother, his best friend. but you never met him until that day you made satoru believe in love at first sight.
you were staying with suguru for a couple of weeks during your college break. and satoru was also there to hang out with your brother.
and the first thing he said was, âhoy,â completely entranced that his brain failed to work and formulate a singular word.
âexcuse me?â you said, looking at him questioningly. you werenât sure whether you misheard him or if he made up a word.
he blinked a couple of times, straightening on the sofa and clearing his throat.
âuh, hi. hi,â he clarified, âi was trying to say âhiâ, âhelloâ, or âheyâ. my brain just-- i donât know,â he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head.
get yourself together, satoru.
you had looked at him warily for a second before letting out a soft laugh.
poof. ah, there goes his thoughts again. scrambling away without a trace like they were never there in the first place.
âhi,â you replied, smiling. âsatoru, right?â
his name is like sugar on your tongue that he wants to lap up.
âhuhâŚ? oh, yeah. yeah, me. satoru is i.â what the fuck was that? super smooth, idiot.
he should pat himself on the back. really.
âwell, nice to meet you, satoru. iâll let you get back to watching⌠whatever it is youâre watching.â you gestured to the tv that had been playing in the background since you came into the living room, because satoruâs mind didnât work fast enough to think to pause it.
âyeah, same here,â he beamed, âiâll see you around?â
you hummed and smiled back, unaware of satoruâs oceanic gaze trailing behind you before you disappeared into the kitchen.
there was still a stupid, soft smile touching his lips even when you werenât in the room. staring at the space you occupied a few seconds prior.
âwhat are you smiling about?â suguruâs voice knocked satoru out of his thoughts, eyeing him suspiciously as he sat down on the sofa beside him after returning from the bathroom.
âwhy have you never tried setting me up with your sister?â satoru said, feeling betrayed that in all of his 20 years of life, that was the first time heâs ever met you.
â⌠sorry?â
âis she single?â
suguru stared at his best friend. scrutinising him. moments ticked by with satoruâs intense gaze piercing into suguruâs, waiting for an answer.
then, suguru exhaled deeply through his mouth.
âi think she is. she hasnât mentioned that sheâs dating anyone.â
within a second, satoruâs expression brightened with hope. like a golden retriever who just heard the word âwalkâ.
âsheâs seven years older than you, you know.â
âeven better--â
âsheâs never dated anyone younger than her.â
âthereâs a first for everything,â satoru grinned, âplus, iâm me. how could she resist?â
suguru rolled his eyes. âjust donât do anything dumb. i know you, satoru, and i trust you. but i also know how you can self-sabotage when things start to get serious. donât do anything that will hurt her or yourself.â
satoru nodded, turning more solemn. he knew that suguru was right. and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. so he decided to take his time, until he knew that he was ready.
the six months after that were spent yearning for someone he didnât even speak to regularly. the only times he saw and spoke to you were during your college breaks and when you came back home for holidays.
the same hammering behind his ribs, the same heat that rushed to his face, the same reverence.
until the winter holidays rolled by and you showed up with an engagement ring on your finger. and your fiancĂŠâs fingers laced with that same hand.
the hammering suddenly stopped. his heart and every hair on his body going still. someone mightâve mistaken him for a dead man standing.
his eyes flicked from the ring to your face to your fiancĂŠ. and back to your ring.
engaged?
to be married. to be someoneâs wife.
only patches of conversations were heard - something about everything happening so fast, something about how you wanted to keep your relationship private until you knew it was something special.
satoru felt hot and cold, sad and frustrated. like time stood still and was zooming by at the same time.
one of the last times satoru saw you was at your wedding. it hurt to see you after that, after all.
you in a beautiful dress that made his breath catch in his throat. made his heart ache. oh how he wishes that he could delicately run his fingers over your skin, press the gentlest of kisses to your forehead, and be the man that you called husband.
oh to be the one who you looked at with such affection. to be the reason for your smile lines.
every glance, every vow, felt like someone was dragging a blunt knife down his heart. tearing it strip by torturous strip. letting it bleed into his white button-up. it wasnât often that satoru wore his heart on his sleeve, but he could never suppress it when it came to you.
falling in love has never hurt so much.
a/n: HAHAHAH (i have a happy, longer fic in the works for satoru x suguru's older sister!reader dw dw it's one of my favourite tropes)
taglist: @sugurusladyknightt @cupidstrace @man1cslut @chewiebee @besidesjustmyamour @hails-trom @theevilarcher @aquariusscollection @snooptoru @snailsolidarity @maximasx @luvsukei @satorusdollie @chuiisi @kalihrts @angelabassettsbiceps @sovaintilla @ostara-27 @paintedperidot @sukiiiiie @newpersonsameoldmistakez @myasfiction @lisabelhyhn @getorade @dogggggggblog-kaye @cinnamonnmar @un1v3rsalh0pper @catgvrl
satoru using his adhd as an excuse to keep touching you.
if heâs studying for an exam, he canât focus when youâre not on his lap. when you are, heâs quiet, focused. you keep him in check. when youâre not, the white-haired man is distracted, fingers moving agitatedly to feel you, squeezing and pinching your soft skin just because he needs to feel you 24/7.
âyouâre basically my stress toy, i canât help it.â heâd mumble.
âbut youâre making it my problem.â you frowned, trying to pry yourself free from the strong arms that hold you above him. it was an impossible task, and you gave up less than a minute in.
if youâre studying, he wonât leave you either.
âcanât you do that later? i need attentionâŚyou know i have a deficit.â satoru whispers, teething at the fleshy ridge of your earlobe. âyou should be keeping me stimulated.â
ââââââââââ your boyfriend, gojo satoru loves to play with your tits when you're asleep. / smut drabble 18+
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
he watches you sleeping, completely mesmerized. youâre wearing that sheer white night dress again â the one that barely covers anything, so transparent he can clearly see the soft shape of your breasts and the way your nipples press against the thin fabric.
he knows you wear these on purpose.
and fuck, he loves it.
he stares in quiet awe as they rise and fall with every slow breath you take, full and perfect. his cock is already painfully hard, straining against his sweatpants.
slowly, he reaches out and presses two fingers against one nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. he groans softly, then cups your breast fully, squeezing the warm, supple flesh.
and he canât hold back anymore. both his hands are on you now, groping and kneading your tits greedily, thumbs brushing over your nipples as low moans slip from his throat.
you hum in your sleep, a soft, content sound that makes his dick twitch.
âshitâŚâ he curses under his breath. then he leans down and licks one nipple through the fabric, tasting you. your body shivers lightly at the feeling.
âbaby⌠let me take this off,â he whispers, voice hoarse.
you hum again, half asleep, and shift your body just enough to help him slide the night dress up and off you. the second youâre fully bare, satoru climbs on top, settling between your legs.
he grabs both tits with his large hands and buries his face between them, rubbing his cheek and mouth all over the soft warmth. he licks and kisses your nipples greedily, sucking one into his mouth before moving to the other.
âfuck⌠i love them so much,â he groans, voice muffled against your skin. âi could spend all night just worshipping these pretty tits.â
your hand weakly reaches up, fingers threading into his white hair, caressing him gently even in your sleepy state.
âtoruâŚâ you murmur, soft and breathless.
that only makes him more feral.
he buries his face deeper into your chest, sucking and licking both nipples like he canât decide which one he loves more. long, slow sucks followed by quick, hungry pulls â heâs obsessed, moaning and panting between your tits as he worships them.
âcanât stop, baby⌠theyâre so fucking perfect,â he murmurs, voice hoarse and needy before he wraps his lips around your nipple again, sucking harder this time, cheeks hollowing. âlove having your tits in my mouth.â
he switches rapidly from one nipple to the other, licking, sucking, and gently biting down just enough to make your back arch. your nipples are swollen, glistening with his spit, and he still doesnât stop â heâs lost in it, grinding his painfully hard cock against your thigh while he continues sucking like heâll never get enough.
âmineâŚâ he whispers against your wet skin, sucking softly again, almost reverently now. âthese pretty nipples are all mine.â
you smile. âall yours, toru.â
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
ââ â come on, give this loverboy a try
gojo satoru x reader , satoru confesses to you a million times, until you finally reciprocate
âBe my girlfriend!â
Youâve heard those words come out of the Gojo Satoru thousands of times.
Maybe more.
No one would believe you if he didnât loudly announce it every single time, either. He says it like itâs his catchphrase.
Gojo Satoru? Everyone knows him. Heâs basically a celebrity.
You? People pass by you and forget you were ever there. People in your class donât even know your name.
So when he confesses to you, it feels like it has to be a joke. Something for other people to laugh at later.
The first time it happens, youâre sitting outside near the soccer field, doing homework.
You had your headphones in. Favourite song on repeat because you got tired of your playlist. Your pencil continues to move while everyone else is busy being loud.
You donât notice when someone approaches.
Satoru, however, does not understand the concept of a quiet entrance.
He clears his throat loudly, like heâs trying to interrupt your playlist personally. The sound slices through your music and your attention snaps upward.
Heâs standing there with a bouquet, grinning like heâs about to win something.
Suguru is behind him, leaning slightly like heâs waiting for the punchline. Calm face. Patient eyes. The kind of presence that makes you feel like you should brace yourself.
Satoru steps closer and thrusts the flowers toward you.
âBe my girlfriend!â
Then, in a whisper, but still very much part of the performance, he adds. âPlease.â
Your stomach tightens.
It happens fast, the way your instincts always kick in with people like him :
This is going to be embarrassing. This is going to be a story. This is going to end with everyone laughing and you trying to disappear afterward.
You donât even give him a second chance to explain.
You stand up, quick and firm.
âLook,â You say, and your voice comes out sharper than you meant. âJust because I donât hang other people friends, or because I donât fit into your loud little world, it doesnât mean you get to play games with me.â
Satoruâs grin wavers for the first time.
Your hand moves before your brain can talk you out of it.
You slap the bouquet out of his hands.
Flowers scatter on the ground. A couple petals land near your foot, and somehow that makes it feel even more ridiculous.
You grab your backpack and start walking away.
Satoru blinks after you, stunned in a way thatâs almost funny.
You didnât look back. Not because you were trying to be mean, just because you couldnât handle watching him and his buddies making fun of you.
Behind you, you hear him breathe outâthen you hear Suguruâs voice, quiet and practical, like heâs checking whether this went wrong in a way that can be fixed.
Satoru says something under his breath, half offended, half confused.
Then someone has to throw in a commentâBecause of course they do.
âWaitâWhat just happened?â
You keep walking anyway.
âšâËâ§ď¸ľâżâŕ¨á°ŕ§ââżď¸ľâ§Ëââš
Valentineâs Day turns the whole school into a cheerful mess like every year.
Pink decorations. Sweet smells. People carrying chocolates like theyâre going into war.
You do your best to ignore it.
You keep your head down, walk faster, and try to stay out of the main hall where everyone crowds together to show off.
That plan lasts exactly until you see the cart.
A rolling cart is coming down the hallway, surrounded by students who look way too entertained by whatever is inside.
At the front of it is Satoruâperfectly dressed, perfectly smiling, perfectly loud even from far away.
Suguru follows behind him, hands in his pockets, expression neutral, like he knows this is going to be a disaster but canât stop it.
Satoru bounces on his toes and announces. "Thanks for the snacks, everyone!â
People cheer. Someone laughs. Some of them call out.
âSatoru, thatâs unfair!â
âShut up and stop flexing, dude!â
Satoru winks and sticks his tongue out as if he was trying to ragebait everyone.
Then the cart turns.
And you see it.
Mountains of chocolate. Stacked so high it looks like it belongs in a store display, not a school hallway. Different wrappers. Different sizes. Neatly arranged in a way that makes you wonder how long he had to plan it.
Satoruâs eyes swing around the crowd.
And thenâdirectly to you.
His smile widens so quickly itâs almost suspicious.
He steps away from the cart, and for a second you think heâs going to do some grand dramatic thing for everyoneâs entertainment.
But he doesnât.
He walks straight to you, holding a box wrapped in bright paper. Much neater than the chaotic mountain behind him.
He offers it like itâs personal.
âPlease,â He says. âBe my girlfriend.â
A couple people nearby gasp and giggle, like theyâre watching a cute scene instead of a stressful confession.
Your eyes flick down to the box.
Chocolate.
A lot of it.
You glance up at him.
ââŚYou brought all that,â You say, trying not to sound too annoyed. âAnd you picked Valentineâs Day to confess.â
Satoru nods enthusiastically. âYes! Itâs romantic!â
Suguru, behind him, murmurs something that sounds like. âTry being sincere instead of loud,â but he says it under his breath, so it might not count.
Satoru keeps his attention on you.
Heâs still smiling, but thereâs something steady in his eyes now, like he actually wants an answer this time.
You take the box carefully, then lift your gaze again.
âThanks for the chocolate,â You add, and your tone turns dry at the end. âIâm not dating you though.â
Satoruâs immediately expression drops.
âHey! Then whatâs the point of the chocolate?!â
You shrug before walking away.
âšâËâ§ď¸ľâżâŕ¨á°ŕ§ââżď¸ľâ§Ëââš
At this point, itâs basically a routine.
Satoru confesses.
You reject him.
He confesses again, because heâs stubborn and dramatic and clearly allergic to the concept of the word ânoâ.
The whole school knows the routine too.
Even people who donât pay attention to anything else still somehow notice when Satoru is gearing up, because he moves like heâs about to give a performance.
Today, youâre walking past the courtyard with your bag on your shoulder. Quiet day. Low energy. Youâre trying to get to class before your patience runs out.
You make it three steps.
Then Satoru appears out of nowhere.
Suguru is with him too, a little behind, looking like heâs prepared for whatever happens next but also hoping it doesnât become a disaster.
Satoru points at you.
âPlease,â He says, loud enough for nearby students to look over. âBe my girlfriend!â
You donât even turn fully toward him right away. You sigh first, like the sound is a reflex.
Then you look up.
ââŚAgain?â You say.
Satoru grins like you just complimented him. âYes!â
You close your eyes for a second, just to gather yourself, then open them again.
âWeâre not doing this again.â You say.
Suguruâs eyebrows lift slightly. Whether on purpose or no, that kind of spooked you.
Satoru clears his throat, then tries again with the same energy.
âPlease be my girlfriend!â
You stare at him.
Then your gaze drops to the flowers heâs holdingâexcept today itâs not like the usual. Itâs something small and wrapped,.
You exhale, slow.
âFine." You say, tired and honest all at once.
Satoru freezes.
His smile doesnât vanishâIt just gets stuck halfway, like the gears in his brain forgot to keep moving.
âWait.â He says, and his voice drops because suddenly he canât hear anything except you. âFine?â
You tilt your head, annoyed at yourself for making this easier than it should be, but committed now.
âYes,â You say. âYou heard me. Now, move.â
Satoruâs eyes widen so hard itâs kind of impressive.
He looks around like someone might have misheard you.
Then he turns back to you, pointing at his own chest like he needs confirmation from the universe.
ââŚYou said yes? To me?â
You nod.
âYeah. I said yes. Can I go?â
Satoru sputters once, then finally breaks into a ridiculous, bright grin.
âOkay!â He declares, turning to Suguru mid-celebration like they just won the lottery. âSee? I did it, Suguru!â
Suguru covers his mouth, trying to hide a smile.
And youâbecause youâre youâwalk forward like you didnât just become Satoruâs girlfriend after what has to be a million confessions.
Behind you, Satoru jogs to catch up, still acting like youâre the best thing thatâs happened all week.
And for the first time in a long time, he doesnât sound like heâs joking.
a/n - this girl who used to liked me just followed me again after BLOCKING and ignoring me đ
ŕŞââ´ jujutsu kaisen masterlist, masterlist

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︾ ೠmdni. satoru is undoubtedly attractive but you still see him as the annoying little kid you babysat every weekend to earn some extra money during high school. little do you know that he wants to rail you bad ( pervert!satoru / reverse age-gap )
satoru gojo used to be the annoying little kid you babysat every weekend to make extra money during high school.
he was your neighborâs sonâloud, spoiled, with those striking blue eyes that always followed you around the house like you hung the stars. youâd tuck him in, read him stories, and laugh when he threw tantrums about bedtime. âyouâre like my big sister,â he used to say, clinging to your leg. you found it cute back then.
now heâs nineteen, tall, ridiculously handsome, and somehow even more trouble.
you still live next door, working part-time while finishing your degree. satoru has grown into something dangerous. six-foot-three of muscle, messy white hair, and that infuriating smirk that makes girls on campus lose their minds. but to you, heâs still little satoru. the kid you used to scold for eating too much sugar.
he wishes youâd stop seeing him that way. because every night when heâs alone in his room, itâs your face he sees. your soft smile, the way your hips sway when you walk, the curve of your breasts under those old t-shirts you wear when you come over to help his mom. he wraps his hand around his cock and strokes himself slow and desperate, imagining bending you over the same couch you used to read him stories on.
he cums hard every time, biting his lip to stay quiet.
đŕ§ gojo satoru x fem!reader , fluff ! : gojo carrying you home on a drunken night â gojo and reader are frenemies , gojo being a constant tease. ( 1,1k )
"what the hell are you doing here?"
a voice rippled through the crowd. even through the haze gin and tonics, you recognized that arrogant sound too well. "well isn't it the one and onlyy." you slurred, voice thick with sarcasm as you turned to face gojo.
"you look pathetic." he needled, earning a roll of your eyes. âand you don't?" you spat back, arching a brow. he chuckled. âfair enough, but you didn't answer my question." he added, and you only scoffed.
"surprise, i can do what i want. and that's none of your concern." you replied as you pointed a finger at his chestâor where you thought his chest wasâbut it wobbled in the air.
"you're cute." he teased, inching closer towards you. "you're an annoying piece of shit." you taunted. a slow, infuriating grin spread across his face. "ouch. you're mean." he dramatically placed a hand on his chest, acting as if you wounded him.
you shot him a look of pure exasperation, ignoring him as you stumbled blindly toward the bar. "another one," you said thickly, and before the bartender could slide the glass within your reach, a large, pale hand intercepted it.
"oookayy, that's enough." gojo, (who you were sure you left behind) drawled. he leaned against the counter, glass in hand, smirking lazily at your annoyed state. "give that back," you managed between hiccups. he shook his head. "nah, we're done here. we're going"
"gojo, i swear to godâif you don't g-give that back." you demanded as you got upâwell at least you tried to, and gojo caught you by the elbow before your knees could buckle. "look at you," he chuckled lowly. "let's get you home, yeah?" and before you had the time to complain, he gently spun you around, and hoisted you onto his back.
"whâhey!" you tried to protest, but your voice came out as a weak, garbled mumble. you tried to command your hands to push him away, but unfortunately they could only flop uselessly against his shoulders. the fiveâor was it six?--drinks you'd downed were finally claiming victory over your nervous system.
"finished yelling?" gojo asked playfully, his voice vibrating right against your ear as he stepped through the doors. "you're so annoying." you breathed against his shoulder, voice trailing off to a sleepy hum. gojo laughed lightly at that.
and in a few minutes time, a heavy, hazy silence settled between you and only the sound were the crunch of his boots on the pavement and the occasional distant hum of a passing car. you subconsciously nuzzled your head against his neck, and although you didn't know, his heart's pace started to quicken.
shit, act normal.
"since when do you smell good?" you murmured, and his lips twitched into a smirk and you felt the vibration of his chuckle through his back. "you joking? since forever! pretty hurt you've only realized this now." he hiked you up higher, readjusting your position.
without much thought, you brought a hand up and started playing with his hair, which was surprisingly soft. gojo stiffened for a split second. "mm.. your hair's nice," you mumbled, and he was trying not to blush. he told himself that's the alcohol talking.. right?
"your body's nice too." you said, words tripping over each other. god, you were barely aware of what was coming out of your mouth. gojo nearly choked on air, but quickly regained composure, just as he neared the entrance of your house.
"you sure about that? last i recall you called me a pretentious stick." he said, smiling despite himself. he slowly unlocked the door to your house with the keys hanging off your pockets.
he slowly carried you upstairs, making his way to your bedroom. "you're insufferable, you know that?" you sighed, your voice trailing off into a sleepy, frustrated groan. you shifted, tucking your face deeper into the crook of his neck "god, but do i like you so much." you muttered against his neck.
gojo froze.
his heart was drumming a frantic, uneven rhythm against his rib. a heavy blush spread across his face and his mind spiraled for a moment. get it together, that's obviously the alcohol talking, gojo scolded himself repeatedly. "you don't mean that." he tells you, as he carefully leaned forward, letting you slide off his back onto the mattress.
the bed dipped under your weight, and you let out a soft, sleepy groan, your arms finally untangling from his neck. he ran a hand through his now warm face. "youâre driving me insane..â he sighed.
â..please feel the same when you're sober."