Hiromi Higuruma is seething with jealousy when his pretty assistant is re-assigned to another attorney — so he spanks her !
Your ass was heated under Higuruma's hand, bright and red from the amount of sharp hits it's taken. "Hiro!" You yelped, legs lifting up in the air in reflex when his had struck down again.
"What was he telling you, hm? That he would treat you so much better than me?" At this point your panties were drenched in arousal as you recalled the earlier events. You both were in the office. Him busy with paperwork and you talking his ear off. “Will you miss me Hiro?” You spun around in your chair, sliding over to Higuruma’s desk where he sat — looking over a few papers. His foot placed itself on your seat, pushing you away from him back to where you were.
“I believe not. I can only pray that my next assistant won’t be as talkative as you.” He simply said, glancing towards you for half a second. Because if he looked at you for longer than that, he was sure he’d say what his heart desire to.
You’ve been partners for the past year, but after a recent notice from the law firm explaining the change of your position, you would no longer be taking the usual route to his office. And you definitely wouldn’t be making a stop at his favorite bakery every morning for his black coffee & bagel anymore.
“Well, I hope that my next attorney will be more talkative than you.” You shot back, pouting.
“I’m sure she won’t be.”
“Ah, it’s actually another man i’ll be assisting.” Higuruma froze. Another male lawyer? Surely, he heard wrong, right? "What was his name.." You looked upwards to the ceiling, recalling the name of your new attorney. "I believe his name was Kento, Kento Nana.. something."
'You've got to be shitting me.' Higuruma thought to himself. Out of all the males in the building, he was the one to steal you away from him. Your phone ringing interrupted his thoughts. You reached for it on the other side of your desk, checking the caller id. "Oh! It's him!"
Higuruma frowned, staying quiet in hopes of listening it to whatever the blonde was saying.
You used the same tone on Nanami as well — polite & sweet. "Okayyy, I'll be there!" That made Higuruma's brow rise, studying your face closely. After you hung up, you grabbed your coat and purse. "He invited me for lunch! We'll be going to the bakery down the street."
"I don't think so." His monotone voice cut through your excitement, resting his elbows on his desk. "It's not lunch for you just yet."
"Mmm, well I don't really work for you anymore do I?" You teasingly said, not know the way your words made his heart sting. "I'll see you later Hiro!" Closing the door behind you, silence filled the office. Higuruma was conflicted in going after you, dragging you back inside to fuck you sweetly over his desk — begging for you to stay.
But he could wait.
Nanami walked you back to the law firm, offering you his warmer coat to protect you from the cold weather. "Are you sure you don't want it? It's quite chilly and yours doesn't look like it's doing much."
"I'm alright! Besides, we're here anyways." You hummed.
The blonde nodded, corner of his eyes crinkling as he smiled down at you. "It was a pleasure getting to know you more. I'm more than positive we'll get along well at work."
Of course, Higuruma couldn't help but look at the two of you through the window, hence why he has you now over his lap. "I asked you a question, sunflower."
"H-he just said than he looks f-forward to working together!" You hissed out when his larger hand massaged the newly bruised cheeks. His cock was pulsing underneath you, begging to be released and stuffed in you already. Higuruma hummed, squeezing you roughly. "And what else."
"Is all! I promise!"
His dark & tired eyes met yours, trying to see if you were saying the full truth. He allowed his hand to travel up to your hair, stroking it gently. "He won't know how to handle you. He'll send you back to me in no time."
"Hiro.." You whined, arching your back. Because obviously, you couldn't help but enjoy the sudden attention your boss gave you. He craned his neck, mocking your neediness. "What is it babe? Need me to hit you some more?" He lightly smacked your ass, sticking two fingers into your mouth. "Is that it?"
Without warning, his hand lifted once again, landing another blow on you. "You're so drenched, are you not ashamed." He chuckled, sliding your panties to the side. Your cunt was dripping downwards to his pants, staining them with your arousal.
"Shit.. this all for me?" His eyes met yours again, seeking for an answer. You nodded, sucking obediently at his digits. "... Let's get you on the desk. C'mon." Higuruma's giant hands manhandled your fragile body onto his desk, moving any important folders to the side to make room for you.
"He won't know what to do with you.." He repeated, sliding his thumb in between your folds.
“Please.” You managed to moan out. “Please what?” Higuruma wiped his wet finger on his lips, tasting you. “I so badly want to eat you out. But we’ll save that for another time.”
Out of all the dicks you’ve seen in your lifetime, Higuruma had the longest. “I don’t think it’ll fit!” He quickly shut you up with a hit to your ass. “I’ll fucking make it fit.”
Higuruma’s fingers dug into your hips, pulling you towards his cock. He threw his head back, watching as he entered your tight hole inch by inch.
“That’s it,” He grunted, pushing his hips forward to fill you up entirely. “You’re doing so good.” His hands moved up to grip your waist, helping you move alongside him. He could help but let his mouth hang slightly open, tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip. He was breathless under your grip, entranced at the recoil of your plush ass as it hit against him. “You’re doing so good.” he praised.
His cock was thick, stretching you out deliciously. All you could do was moan out his name repeatedly, upper body resting on his desk as you cunt happily took him in from the back.
“Better not see you smile at Kento the way you do with me.”
“I w-won’t..!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, seeing stars. The desk shook underneath you, feeling almost positive that the office below could figure out what was going on upstairs.
“Should stuff you full with my cum that way you’re stuck with me. You want that?” His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing and spreading your cheeks. “Yes! God yes!” You screamed.
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# SYNOPSIS : maybe getting too involved with a vampire case will get him... fucked by the vampire..?
content. 18+ MDNI!
note. I may have started this in January and forgot about it... MY BAD GUYSSSS. Props and credits to @sunseraphim for this fun idea!!
starring. satoru gojo (nerdjo)
credits! this work is owned by @k-aay on tumblr. please dont steal my work! (i do not proof read, sorry for any mistakes !!)
Satoru Gojo was not meant to be doing this.
He knew that in the abstract, academic sense. The same way he knew caffeine past midnight wrecked his sleep cycles, or that spiralling into unapproved research topics tended to end with academic probation and a disappointed email from the department head.
And yet—knowing all of this—at 2:37 a.m., he sat hunched on his dorm bunk-bed, back curved like a question mark, laptop balanced on a teetering stack of textbooks that smelled faintly of dust.
His glasses slid down his nose for the fifth time in many minutes. He pushed them back up with one finger, blinking hard at the blue glow of the screen. The room was quiet, except for the faint whir of his laptop fan and the ticking radiator, which he never really knew whether it was on or off.
Even his roommate, Geto, was passed out after another one of his frat parties. A stoner is what that man is.
But Gojo has been procrastinating. Again.
Originally, he’d opened his browser to skim a single journal article. Just one, he’d promised himself. It had somehow spread to six open tabs, three half-written notes, and one local news site he had absolutely no business clicking on.
The headline wasn’t even dramatic.
Male University Student Found Dead Near Campus — Cause of Death Under Investigation
Gojo’s cursor hovered. Normally, he scrolled past things like this. Tragic, sure, but distant. Murders just happened, so why was this one captivating?The thumbnail image beneath the headline made his hand still.
Yellow police tape stretched across a brick-lined sidewalk, which he recognized immediately. The south end of campus. Near the older dorms. Near the shortcut he took every morning because it took exactly three minutes off his walk.His stomach tightened, slow and unpleasant. He clicked.
The article was brief. No speculation or useful details. Just the bare bones: a male student, his age, was found unresponsive shortly after midnight. No weapon recovered.
Then his eyes shot to a single sentence.
Authorities noted two small puncture wounds on the victim’s neck. Their origin remains unclear.
Gojo let out a short laugh, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“Okay,” he muttered to the empty room. “Sure.”
Two puncture wounds. On the neck. That was… a choice.His rational brain immediately kicked in, lining up explanations like dominoes. Still, he didn’t close the tab. Instead, he opened another. By the time the sky outside his narrow dorm window had lightened from black to a bruised gray, Gojo had found something that made his chest buzz uncomfortably.
There had been others. Not many. Just enough to be missed if you weren’t looking. A student was found dead near the library two months ago. Another near the river path before that. All male. All are enrolled at the same university.
All reported on quietly, briefly, as if no one wanted to linger on the details. And every single one of them had died on the 13th.
Every other month. Same time frame. Same gender. Same wounds.
That wasn’t random. That was a pattern.
His heart thudded faster. Not fear, but something closer to excitement. The kind that made his fingers tremble, and his thoughts race ahead of themselves. He dragged his hands through his already-messy white hair, pushing it back out of his eyes as he leaned closer to the screen.
“Okay,” he whispered, more seriously now. “No way, this is just… crazy.”
He told himself very firmly that vampires weren’t real. They couldn’t be. That was ridiculous. Superstition. Mythology. Horror and Romance movie nonsense. He knew that.
And yet the puncture wounds didn’t line up with any common weapon. It was too clean. Too precise.
He thought.
He needed to run this past someone sane. Someone official.
THE NEXT DAY
You noticed the bags under his eyes before he even sat down.
Gojo slouched into the chair across from your desk later that afternoon, shoulders caved inward, hoodie wrinkled as he’d slept in it. His glasses were slightly crooked as he fumbled with the strap of his backpack.
You leaned back in your chair, eyes dragging over him with open assessment. “You look like shit,” you said mildly.
Gojo flinched, then laughed too quickly. “Uh—yeah. Thanks.”
“When was the last time you slept?”
“… Last, last night?”
Your lips curved into a smile. “You’ve been flagged for burnout,” you continued, voice smooth. “Missed meals, extended lab hours… And now you’re pulling all-nighters for a project that isn’t even due… or assigned.”
He swallowed, throat bobbing. “I just— there’s something I wanted to run by you,” he said, pushing his glasses up again. “It’s probably nothing. I mean, it is nothing. But I can’t get it out of my head.”
You tilted your head slightly, an invitation.
He talked.
About the article, the dates, the pattern he wasn’t supposed to see. His words tumbled over each other, too fast and too eager, hands gesturing as if he could physically show the facts in the air between you.
You listened without interrupting, eyes never leaving his face. “That’s a lot of assumptions,” you said. “You’re pattern-matching.”
His shoulders slumped a little. “I know, but—”
“And you’re focusing on the most sensational explanation because you’re exhausted,” you continued calmly. “Two puncture wounds don’t mean anything on their own. You’re letting confirmation bias guide you. Y’know… the tendency to make up new evidence—”
“I know what confirmation bias means,” Gojo says sternly, as if he’s upset you didn’t believe his mad theory.
You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the desk. “If you really want to pursue this, you need to slow down. Look for human explanations.”
Human.
Gojo nodded, relief and disappointment tangling in his chest. Of course. Of course, you were right. You always were.
He went back to his room that night and rewrote his theories from scratch, chasing explanations that grew more complicated, more draining, more useless by the hour.
…
Gojo comes back to your office again this week, he’s running highly and strictly on caffeine.
Another day without real sleep. He knows this because he’s started counting in failed naps instead of hours. His hands shake when he presses the elevator button. His reflection in the metal doors looks wrong. Eyes too bright behind his glasses, pupils blown wide like he’s constantly surprised by his own thoughts.
Your door is already open when he arrives. You’re seated exactly where you always are, posture relaxed, expression unreadable. There’s a mug on your desk that smells faintly bitter and metallic. He doesn’t see you drink from it, but he sees red.
And you catch on.
“Wine,” you smile. “Want some?”
“At eight in the morning? I’m okay. Should you even be offering that to students?” You shrug in response, a smile still plastered onto your face.
“You’re early,” you say, glancing at the clock.
“I… I didn’t sleep,” he blurts, then winces. “I mean, I tried but—”
You lift a hand. “Gojo,” you say calmly, almost indulgently. “Sit.” He does. Immediately. The chair legs scrape against the floor, loud in the quiet room. He curls inward without realizing it, shoulders hunched, backpack clutched against his knees like a shield. You look at him for a long moment. “You look worse,” you observe.
He laughs, weak and breathless. “Yeah. I— your suggestions? About chemical sedation and post-mortem staging? I looked into it.”
“And?”
“They don’t work,” he says too fast. “There’s no injection marks, no residue—sorry, I know you said not to fixate, but—”
You click your tongue softly.
“There you go again.”
He freezes.
“You’re doing exactly what I warned you about,” you continue, folding your hands. “Discarding reasonable explanations because they don’t feel right.”
“But they’re not consistent,” he insists, voice pitching higher. “Every time I adjust for—”
“Every time you adjust,” you interrupt, sharp now, “you adjust in the direction you want.Silence drops heavy between you. Then,
“I just—” he exhales, scrubbing his face with both hands. “I can’t stop thinking about it. The timing, the victims, the way it keeps happening on the 13th—”
“Superstition,” you say flatly. “You’re a smart student, not a conspiracy theorist. Do you really want to throw your credibility away chasing folklore?”
“No,” he says immediately. “No, of course not.”
“Then prove it. Start over. Again. I want a full cognitive-bias audit,” you lean forward. “Every assumption you’ve made. Every pattern you think you see, tear it apart.”
“That’ll take weeks,” he whispers.
Your smile is thin. “Good.”
By the time Gojo comes back to your office the last time that week, he’s stubborn. Your office looks the same as it always does. Dim. Cool. Carefully controlled. The blinds are half-drawn, flashing the late-afternoon light into neat bands across your desk.
Gojo stands in the doorway for a second too long. You don’t look surprised when you see him. You glance up slowly from your desk, eyes flicking over him.
“There you are… you’re late.”
His gaze drifts to the mug on your desk. It’s there again. Whatever’s inside is still almost viscous, catching the light in a way that makes his stomach twist.
You follow his line of sight. “Oh,” you say lightly. “Don’t tell me that’s distracting you too now…”
He flushes, embarrassed. “No, I just—”
You lean back in your chair, folding your arms. “No?” you prompt. “Then why are you here, Gojo?”
His chest tightens. “No,” he says, voice unsteady despite his effort to keep it firm. “You don’t get to do that anymore.”
“Do what?”
“Act like this is just stress,” he says, words spilling out now. “Like I’m imagining things. Every time I get close, every time I talk to you, and suddenly I’m weeks behind in figuring this shit out again! You redirect me and complicate things! You make me… doubt myself.”
You rise from your chair slowly, heels clicking softly against the floor as you circle the desk. The mug stays where it is, untouched.
“So I’m the one to blame for your theories not working?”
“I’m serious,” he insists. “It’s always you. You’re always there when I change direction.”
“Oh, Gojo,” you laugh, shaking your head. “You really have exhausted yourself into something special.” The laughter fades into something cooler. “You’re accusing an academic advisor of manipulating a homicide investigation by a university student because you,” you tap a finger against his chest, “can’t accept that you’re wrong.”
His face burns. “I’m not saying you did anything,” Gojo backtracks. “I just think you’re wrong. About all of it.”
“You’re spiralling,” you say calmly. “And now you’re lashing out at the only person trying to ground you. How… ungrateful.” You sigh, disappointed. “Go home,” you say, gesturing vaguely towards the door. “Sleep. Drink water. And stop humiliating yourself.”
The words hit harder than he expected. “I just thought—” he starts.
“That,” you interrupt coolly, “was your mistake.” You lean against the front of your desk, hands at either side of your person. “You’re lucky I don’t report you. Your little breakdown is impacting your grades, which is putting your scholarship at risk.” You take a file that was on the wooden surface and hand it to him. “Read the report I wrote for you. If you can fix yourself within a month, I can change it. If not, the university will be notified about you not meeting the academic requirements.”
He takes the file with a shaky hand, opening it and skimming through it. You can see his eyes through the unclear glasses, scanning each word on the report. The reality crashed down on him. He didn’t know it had been this bad.
“Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
…
The file sits on his desk, which is crowded with other papers and photographs related to the case. But for the first time in forever, he wasn’t focused on that. Gojo’s attention remained on the report. His academic future was on the line because he got too attached to something that shouldn’t concern him. Something that he would’ve considered a disturbance. He was a university student, not a detective.
Ding!
He looked at the notification on his phone. A news article.Before he could put down the phone in retaliation for this case addiction, he read a familiar name.
New Male University Victim Found Dead Near Campus
The victim has been identified as Toji Fushiguro.
The guy who lived down the hall.
The phone drops from his hand as a bead of sweat runs down the back of his neck. He didn’t feel safe anymore. Gojo was conflicted about pursuing the case to put an end to it and minding his own business, so he’s not the priority target. He picks up his phone from the carpet, leaning forward at his desk while he scrolls through the article. Anything to give him a small hint? A push in the right direction.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Three taps on his door bring him out of his thoughts. If it were Geto, the knocking wouldn’t have happened. He had keys. And if he didn’t, he wouldn’t even be at the dorms. This was someone else entirely, and his gut told him that they weren’t good news.
Yet, he stood up, and with a careful sigh, he walked towards the door. A baseball bat was next to the door for emergencies that never seemed necessary until now. His hand reached for it, but didn’t grab it. Gojo’s other hand hovered over the doorknob, and after a quick mental speech to prepare himself for anything on the other side of the door, he quickly turned and pulled it open.
Nothing.
What?
A snicker and a few giggles were heard at the end of the hallway from a group of guys.
“Assholes,” he mumbles to himself. He closes the door and locks it. When he sits back down at his desk and rethinks what the past few weeks have done to him, he starts to feel uneasy. Like something is watching him. He smacks a hand onto his forehead. “Fuck this…” Gojo scoops everything relating to the case into a pile and slides it into the trash. It feels empty.
The next few minutes were spent watching ‘The Game Theorists’ and some old Digimon gameplay on his phone, until he just stared up at the roof of his bunk bed.
“You’re pretty boring for such a smart guy.”
Before his eyes could fully widen, it was too late.
You were on him fast, using one hand to pin down his with an unnatural strength that would leave bruises on his pale skin. He was struggling, but once he opened his eyes and saw who he was dealing with, it stopped.
“Can’t believe you listened to me when I told you that load of bullshit. So fucking stupid…”
Gojo was conflicted to say the least. A voice in his head tells him he’s terrified that there’s an intruder in his house. One that might not even be human. But the other voice—the louder one—is telling him that he was right all along. The “academic advisor” was setting him off his tracks, the culprit. He didn’t know why he was… turned on…?
Your mouth opened as you leaned down to his neck, but then paused when you felt something.
Something by your thigh… by his thigh.Your lips curved into a mean smirk. “God, are you in fucking high school?” His face flushed red as he started to struggle out of your grip again, this time out of embarrassment rather than fear.
“N-no—! It’s not…” Gojo couldn’t even finish that sentence. He had a 4.0 GPA, a full-paid scholarship to a top university and earned many academic awards, but he couldn’t come up with a single excuse for why he was hard at the sight of you almost killing him.
You let go of his wrists, one hand gripping and smushing his cheeks together. “You’re more pathetic than I thought, aren’t you?” Your finger trailed down his neck, then stomach, until it reached the belt of his jeans. “Need a hand?” He didn’t know why he wasn’t screaming for help or why he was agreeing to this. There was no rhyme or reason to his thought process other than you looked fucking amazing on top of him.
When you finish working off his belt and pants, your smirk grows wider at the sight of his cock. Or size.
“A…are you gonna—”
“Shut it,” you swiftly cut him off, emphasizing with you giving his dick a good stroke. You removed his hand from his face and gripped his collar instead. “You have no idea how fucking sick I am of your voice.” Gojo’s head tilts back when you rub your clothed cunt against his member as you speak. “Always whining and complaining. You ask way too many questions; it’s like you don’t know how to zip it.”
His hand finds your waist. “S-sorry, I—”
“I said shut. up,” you repeat. Your fingers wrapped around his neck, squeezing lightly. “You make a sound loud enough to alert anyone that you’re not alone, I kill you right then and there.” It takes an alarming amount of brain power to get his eyes open and nod his head, too high on the feeling of you. “Good boy.”
Oh God, he could cum this very second.
You managed to undress yourself quickly, teasing his tip against your entrance while your hand remained wrapped around his throat. Applying more pressure on your grip, you finally sink onto his length. The sound of his dick filling you up doesn’t go unnoticed in the quiet room.
“F-fuck…” you mumble, barely giving either of you enough time to adjust. Gojo’s expression is nothing short of overwhelmed. By you, the feeling of you and the overall situation of his life being on the line. You couldn’t help but get a kick out of it, wanting to test the waters with how far you could push him. You rise, pulling yourself almost completely off him before slamming back down with more pressure, a choked whine escaping his lips in the process.
“Mmph…! P-please—” he whispers, both hands holding your waist in a sad attempt to slow your pace down. Of course, you don’t. You work yourself towards the edge using him. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room in combination with his pathetic effort to keep quiet.
“T-that’s it…” You squeeze his neck tighter, his cock pulsing inside you in response. Gojo turns his head away, his arm covering his flushed face to hide himself from you. “Don’t you dare,” you warn. “Unless you want this to be painful for you.”
“I-I—hahh—can’t—! It’s—” You cup his cheeks together again, forcing him to look at you. His worthless expression is enough to get you over the edge as your pussy clenches around his member, cumming with a quiet moan. Your head lowers to his neck as you ride through your high.
But through instinct, you bite him.
Fuck. You bit him.
Your eyes widen as you feel ropes of cum flood your hole. But that’s not what has you surprised. No. It’s the look on his face once the two of you realize what you did. When your bloodied teeth are removed from his skin. You expected a worried and terrified look. Instead, you got…
𝜗𝜚 Summer is finally here! But trying to take pictures of the beach is easier said than done, what with waiting for the heat haze to die down and all. So when a hot surfer named Satoru Gojo suddenly shows up out of nowhere, seawater dripping down his unfairly toned body, maybe you should kick your summer off with some coastal cardio.
content: smut, surferboy!Gojo, semi-public sex, hints at the next chapter, oral (f. recieving), p in v, making out, standing sex, praise, mutual orgasm, nipple play, creampie
wc: 2.5k
series masterlist
part one | >> (coming Friday)
Summer break is in full swing- the grains of pale sand beneath your towel are almost sizzlingly hot as the beach simmers under the heat haze, a sandy mirror to your skin under the sun. A single bead of sweat pools at your neck and drips between your collarbones; you should really be in the shade, but the polaroid you’re trying to take is more important than potential heatstroke.
Your skin, now glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and just a little darker than it was when you initially spread out your towel, might digress- but whatever.
The photo album you’re attempting to fill is sitting mostly blank and empty at home, sheafs of white pages sitting idle and waiting; hopefully, by the end of summer, you’ll have it almost full. The aim is to take a photo of virtually anything- you, the beach, the sky, food- but it’s easier said than done, apparently.
None of the pictures your camera feeds out to you are good enough. They’re either too sunny, poorly angled, or focus too much on the sand as opposed to the gloriously blue range of foamy sea you’re trying to capture forever upon glossy paper.
“Too bright. Again.” You sigh, regretfully tossing the most recent photo to the side. Maybe you’ll use it as a filler background in your photo album, along with a leftover receipt or something similar. The camera angles up again, held in your hands as you squint.
Your hand is positioned over the lens, in an attempt to shield the glass from the sun- it’s promising, more promising than any of the others, the sea and sand in perfect ratios.
Until the sun disappears altogether.
The frown on your face spells annoyed confusion- until:
“Heyyy, what’re you doing? You’re gonna burn with only that bikini on.”
You grimace, and mentally prepare to slide off your now too-dark sunglasses to the sight of just another sleazy beachgoer; instead, you’re smacked right in the shiny pupils with a complete wall of pale skin.
You gape. Holy shit- his abdomen is completely defined, perfect ridges of muscle you instinctually want to rake your nails down lead up, up, up to his arms, flexing just a little. And further up still, his face; sharp, mildly boyish grin tugging at his lips before you get to the eyes hidden behind darkened lenses.
You can see from here how blue they are, bright and electric and almost too much for you to gaze up at. “Hey.” He says, and you jump as he clicks his fingers in front of your face. “You’re staring, pretty. Not that I mind, but at least try to be subtle.”
He winks and it almost knocks the breath out of your lungs.
“I was-“ you start, thickly swallowing down the sudden wave of saliva slicking your mouth at the sight of the man’s happy trail, “-I was trying to take a picture, but you’re blocking out the sun with your surfboard.”
He smiles sharply, blue eyes brightening behind his round sunglasses. “Oops. Sorry.” He’s clearly not apologetic at all, trunks slung criminally low upon his lean hips as he runs a large hand through the salt-sprayed tufts of white sprouting from the crown of his messy head.
“Asshole.” You mutter under your breath, preparing to bundle up your towel and sign the entire attempt off as a bad idea, camera already slung in your tote.
“Gojo, actually.” He beams, “or Satoru. And it’s wayyyy too bright right now to even bother getting your little camera out.”
“I’ll just tan instead, then.” You snap at him, but he doesn’t seem to care at all- in fact, Gojo’s eyes just burn brighter, something intense and dazzling that rakes over your bare skin and makes you feel hotter.
Seriously, who gave him the nerve?
Annoyance bubbling more in hot veins as you lie on the sand, your heart starts doing traitorous things as you eye up the subtle flex of Gojo’s biceps when he swaps the hand holding onto his board.
He crouches down to your level, cerulean irises inconspicuously tracing the curve of your tits and the bead of sweat disappearing in the valley between them. “I could think of a better way to pass the time, if you’re interested.”
You gape, scandalised- there’s a slew of insults forming at the back of your throat, until you remember the entire conversation you’d had with Nobara the day before and you start to wonder.
“Geez, there’s a shortage, seriously.” She’d groaned over the phone, “the most we have is Yuji, and nobody wants to fuck him after he comes out of the sea- seriously, he looks drowned. Somebody should tell him.”
“Mmm.” You’d sympathised, coating your nails in a thin layer of glossy polish. “I’m going down to the beach tomorrow, just to take photos-“
“I can’t.” Nobara sighs, “busy. Buttttt, if you find a hot surfer, make sure to fuck him, m’kay?”
You’d laughed then at her stupid joke- she’s right, you’ve never seen a hot surfer up close- but now there actually was one in front of you, dripping seawater from his infuriatingly nice hair as more disappeared between his hips, who are you to deny your friend’s wish?
You sigh and thread your fingers with his waiting hand. “Okay.”
You’d half been expecting Gojo to drag you down into the sea’s foamy embrace, but he leads you somewhere different. A little alcove, hidden away from the rest of the beach but just as pretty, sand soft and warm beneath your feet. Or should you say foot, considering the other is propped loosely over Gojo’s shoulder.
“S’that tanning oil on your thigh, or are you just that wet?” He giggles, lips moving between your legs as he fingers your flimsy bikini bottoms to the side.
“Shut up.” You grit, tone lacking any real bite as your hips grind down onto his pink tongue, “f-faster.”
“Ooh, eager.” Gojo grins, thumb rolling over your clit as he shuffles closer on the beach to stuff his greedy mouth across the plane of your soppingly wet cunt. “I should’ve spoken to you sooner.”
“Huh?“ Your question comes out dazed, slurred by the lips sucking below.
He doesn’t bother replying, just flattens his tongue against you and drags it slowly. A moan echoes out of his throat, humming melodically against your sensitive skin and the flimsy attempt at control your tugging hand is presenting.
It should be criminal how good he looks between your thighs, your hand loosely tugging at snowy white hair while he keeps eye contact. How he’s so shameless is beyond you, eyes boring into yours as his tongue flicks through you.
Gojo pats your thigh as he stands, cock straining against his expensive-looking blue trunks. You aren’t quite sure how you’re distinguishing between expensive and cheap swimwear, but everything on Gojo looks expensive somehow- the glossy black lenses of his sunglasses, the way his voice drips from his mouth like sticky honey you want to lick up.
He loops your thighs beneath his hands. “Tuck.”
You do as asked, legs hitching up around his hips and your back flat against the rock. “Good girl.” He mutters, patting your ass lightly and grinning when he notices the way your pupils blow at the praise.
Your bikini is barely covering anything, your chest shoved into the eyeline of Gojo’s sunglasses, the patterned material designed for lazy tanning and not… this.
And Gojo takes full advantage of the slipping, skimpy pieces of fabric, wrapping his lips around your chest and mouthing softly at the skin. You whimper embarrassingly quickly, looping your arms around his neck when he switches sides to lavish attention on your other nipple.
“Hurry up.” You say, voice wobbling just a little when his tip rolls over your clit.
“Wait, I’m enjoying this.” Gojo groans against your sternum, “your tits are so pretty. Kept staring at ‘em on the beach.”
You flush. “You perv.”
He tilts his head to the side, pressing his mouth to your neck and suckling. “Couldn’t help it.”
He slicks himself up, fiddling with the hem of his trunks until they’re no longer an obstruction- and pushes in slowly. It makes your skin flare, hotter than it was under the beating sun even when you’re shaded by the rock. “Fuckkk,” he moans, “so tight-“
Your nails scrabble at his shoulders, milky skin painted with lines of red. “What did you- hnngh- mean, you should’ve spoke to me sooner?”
“What? Oh, yeah.” He grins dreamily, already lost on the feeling of your warm pussy clamping down on him, “saw you earlier, when I was walking to the sea- you were still messing with your camera then.”
The camera now lies gently placed upon the sand beside you, watching unseeingly as its owner gets fucked by a cocky surfer against a rock. Fuck, Nobara’s gonna flip! - you think vaguely, a smug smile tugging at your lips before it’s wiped clean off by a particularly mean thrust.
His skin tastes like seawater when you lean forwards, pressing your weight against his chest to rock downwards onto his cock. “Oh-!” You gasp quietly, hips jerking when he shifts his footing to hit just a little deeper.
“You feel- fuck- like, really good.” He laughs breathlessly, almost disbelieving as he stares into your eyes and flattens his hands against your skin.
The sun shines down on you, adding more heat you really don’t require. Your bodies are coated in a thin sheen of sweat, building over your skin and shimmering as Gojo fucks into you.
The waves on the beach are a calm, quiet contrast to the lewd moans bubbling up from your throat, catching on Gojo’s ears and making him redouble his efforts.
The breath inside your heaving chest is knocked from you, Gojo’s dripping tip mazing at your sensitive walls and just throbbing maddeningly away inside you.
The feeling is addictive- he fits perfectly, the raised veins settling around his length prodding at spots you didn’t even knew you had. His noises are just as addictive too, every moan setting something alight within your body’s reward pathway and spurring you on to clench down, squeezing his groans out of him.
“Hah- you’re pretty-“ Gojo pants into your ear, fingers still gripping at your flesh clamingly, “soooo pretty, m’glad he didn’t get to you first-“
He punctuates the ‘he’ with a particularly brutal slap of his hips on yours, fingers digging into your skin seemingly tighter in what feels to you like an unspoken claim.
You don’t get to ask who 'he' is, brow furrowed in sugarcoated confusion, because Gojo’s deft fingers start rubbing wonky, sloppy shapes on your clit and your brain blanks.
“Oh.” You moan dumbly, head tipping back onto the flat surface the rock provides. You’re lucky it’s smoothed over, eroded from centuries of tumultuous sea air and rising ocean tides, because with the jolting you’re experiencing your back would be ruined.
Although, it may as well be ruined- your coherency certainly is, a sparkly pool of drool forming on your tongue as the surfer you just met fucks you into oblivion.
His sunglasses slip down his nose, and you frustratedly push them up to sit wonkily in his hair. They’re slanted, the expensive-looking arms crooked as they grab at his ears, but Gojo only smiles.
“Th-thanks, baby.”
Almost in gratitude, he shoves his face forwards into your tits again. Without the barrier of his glasses, he can press his mouth against you even flusher, nip at your skin and leave marks.
Your spine curves up slowly, a pretty arch that makes Gojo groan when you inadvertently push your chest against his face more. It’s a telltale sign of your impending orgasm, you know, and the whines slipping out make it even more obvious.
“M’gonna- Satoru-“
“Yeah, I know.” He breathes, looking up to reveal the most gorgeous glimpse of cerulean, “with me, okay?”
You nod vehemently, eyes screwing up and your bare chest pushed closer towards his face as you arch up, stomach knotting and unknotting itself as you cum, hair plastered to your face.
He curses when he spills inside you, thick globs that soak your already ruined bikini bottoms and splurge out onto his cock. The sea laps on in the background, soothing waves a balm to your overstimulated head.
“You can take your photo now.” Gojo observes, tucking himself away and holding onto your unsteady arm.
“What?”
“Look, the sun’s moved.” He grins, rows of perfect teeth glinting as he guides you by your upper arms to look. “See?”
“Oh!” You blink before lifting your camera back up, squinting again into the eyepiece. “Wait, can you hold your surfboard for the picture? Thank you!”
He does as asked, laughing when you line up the shot of the mid-afternoon sun dazzling on the sea, surfboard just peeking into the corner of the polaroid. You beam when the camera spits the film out at you, glossy and perfectly captured.
“Satoru! Where are you?” Somebody yells- a man, and Gojo’s friend judging by the way he playfully rolls his eyes at you.
He looks down at the picture held in your hand. “Wow, good shot.”
You grin, just slightly fucked out and tired, but a glow pulling at you nonetheless. “Thanks.”
“Satoru!” The man yells again, “what are you doing?”
“Sorry…” Gojo sighs, tucking his surfboard under his arm. “Gotta go. Nice talking to you, though!”
You watch him bounce off along the sand, reinvigorated, and wince at the bright, fresh marks clinging to his back in nail-shaped crescents.
Later, in a half-effort to cool yourself off, you find yourself bobbing alone in the sea as your skin breathes in the salt. The waves are peaceful, reaching up to your shoulders as you float around aimlessly in your bikini.
You squint. “Is that…”
There, walking along the shore, is Satoru Gojo- practically glowing from the salt spray (amongst… other things, you think with a flush) and chatting animatedly to a long-haired man beside him.
Without thinking, he lifts the hand not grasping his drippingly wet surfboard and waves cheerily at you; you return it shyly, eyes still locked on the man silently smirking at the nail marks rippling down Gojo’s porcelain back.
What was it Gojo had said? Something about a mysterious “he” not getting to you first? It clicks then, your cheeks burning even as you sink further into the cooling water. Whatever Gojo is speaking about as they pad across the sand, his friend isn’t listening.
He’s looking at you, eyes upturned as he smiles casually, silently, along with whatever Gojo jokes about. They narrow in on you, bobbing in the sea, and your skin feels hot for the first time since you dipped into the water.
His inky black hair spills across his tanned shoulders, surfboard under his toned arm, and he winks directly at you.
Hm.
series masterlist | check out the photo album! | regular masterlist
a/n: first part posted, and I'd loveee to hear everybody's initial opinions!! I'm super excited to post all of these <3 As always, comments are appreciated, mwah!!
｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡
ﾟ。 what does it matter what they say? ౨ৎ
ﾟ･｡･ﾟ your father and your mother. ₊˚⊹♡
ᰔᩚ fluff. eloping. forbidden love. higuruma is utterly in love. fem! reader. angst-ish? higuruma's parents don't approve of their relationship. mentions of sex.
When Hiromi had first knelt down during one of your evening sunset strolls, you had thought he was joking. You scoffed at first, thinking he was going to go for his shoelaces and tie them right in front of you.
You didn't expect the box that was pulled from his pocket, nor the ring to be of your favorite gem. Shining and gleaming at you like a fresh beginning. Your heart pounded in your ears, face stinging.
But you hesitated. The thought of Hiromi's parents, ever pretentious and all too caring for appearances, would never approve of their son kneeling for... You. You weren't from any wealthy family, and you certainly did not have much to give.
But you loved him with your entire being.
"Oh, Hiromi, I—" Tears well up in your eyes. You hardly notice how your hands shake as you bring them up to cover your mouth in shock.
The look your boyfriend gave you was tear-jerking. His dark irises filled of love and utter devotion, swearing loyalty in his posture despite not having said any vows yet.
A year of loving each other in secret, admiring each other's perfections and imperfections, adoring one another despite Hiromi's parents neglecting the fact that only one thing truly mattered: love. You had nothing to your name, and Hiromi had plenty— but what does it matter to your rawest parts? Your grievances, grudges, your hope and pride?
He loved you for what you were, with little care for what you owned.
He swallowed, a nervous smile subconsciously crawling onto his face, exposing his anxiety.
"My love... I had a whole confession to say, but I forgot it just as I knelt down," He admits light-heartedly, nerves shaking his tone.
You laugh, something jovial and tearful.
"I love you so very much. God, words fail me whenever I look at you, if you couldn't tell already. When I first met you, I knew I wanted to be by your side. For as long as you allowed. So, I suppose this is me making this permanent," Hiromi says, emotion threading its way into his words. He licks his lips, attempting to hold back his tears.
"Will you make me the luckiest man on earth and marry me?"
A flurry of happiness and anxiety churned in your stomach. You were so ready to say yes, to throw yourself into his arms— but that deep-seated insecurity reared its ugly head at you.
Hiromi's parents did not approve of your relationship with their son. That had been evident when your boyfriend had first introduced you to them, the way their scrutinizing glares told more than their curt greetings. They wanted him to marry a wealthy law firm heiress, not a college physics professor.
"But, Hiromi, your parents... What would they—" The sensation of two large, cold hands covering your own make you stop. They ground you, make your mind focus on the man before you, still kneeling as if you were a shrine and he was a devoted priest.
"I don't care what they think. Don't you see? Would I be here if their opinion mattered?" He questions.
It makes your breath hitch.
"Yes or no. Will you marry me?" His voice softens and it turns your mind to mush. He kisses the palm of your hand, anxious anticipation driving his action.
"Ye— yes, Hiromi. I will marry you."
He kisses you as if it's already the wedding reception, deep and committed. You melt into him, hardly able to process him slipping the ring on your finger once he embraces you tightly, like an oath that he would never let go. It reminds you of why you fell in love with this man in the first place—
Love was not simply put for Hiromi. In quiet moments of the night, when he'd come home late from the law firm or from a trial and you were there on the couch, waiting ever so patiently for him. Eyes tired yet eager to see him. Your smaller figure entrapping him with a warmth that meant home. Even at his most stressed, he would reciprocate your love with equal vigor, his energy recharged just by being in your presence.
He would bring you close and mutter a sarcastic joke in your earnest ear as you both danced in the comfort of your home, a song from your playlist singing in the quiet from your pastime of baking.
This was love. To come home and receive your partner with a tired, yet spirited passion, putting away the rush of the outside life. The home you bought together was a confine in which all doubt shied away, anxieties brushed away from the heart to make way for one thing: you and Hiromi. Together after a long day.
Hiromi simply didn't understand the older, married couples whenever they'd give their unsolicited advice.
You'll get tired of each other eventually.
How could he ever tire of his love? Maybe he was young, but his heart had been overflowed with vehement adoration by the second date. By then, he was in far too deep.
Late night talks brought him to the ring store, already so engaged his feet practically moved for him later that morning.
"How do you feel about marriage?" You asked him the night before, lying close to his side, tracing patterns upon his chest.
"I think it's the best part of a relationship. Being able to officially call someone yours," Hiromi answered, his eyes earnestly flitting to yours.
"Would you want to marry me someday?"
"Would you?"
That was where you hesitated. And where your mind spoke worries you had ever since you first met your boyfriend's parents.
You remembered their skeptical gazes at you shared your background, the way their cynical tones wrapped around your status. The way they seemed to mend love and generational wealth as if they were something compatible.
A cold hand cupping your face took you from those thoughts. You loved Hiromi's hands; how they were like an AC on a hot summer day, how they cooled down heated emotions with a refrigerating touch.
"Honey, I asked you a question. Not them," He said, always being able to read your thoughts behind your paused expressions.
You don't waver then. "I would marry you. I couldn't think of anyone else I would want to spend my life with."
His face turned into something indescribable. Wonder, lovestruck, satisfaction.
"Then that's all you need to worry about."
Hiromi didn't care about the price of the ring, nor the karat of the diamond. He hardly cared about the gem, matter of fact. All he cared about was finding the one that he would admire on your finger as you slept the night after your wedding, as he woke first and you were still tranquilly in the keeps of slumber. One that would shimmer to others that you were his, and he was yours all the same.
What other option would be more perfect than your most favored gem, in the prettiest, polished cut that your girl friends would squeal in envy over?
His card swiped with finality, and his heart pounded.
That night. That very night, on your walk along the peer, as the sun set to stage the perfect profession of love, he shucked the nerves from his shoulders and his commitment to his first love came into fruition.
His parents were the last thing in his mind. All he was concerned about was the beautiful woman he was going to have a future with.
When you kissed him in the new dusk, it was solidified. Bride-to-be and groom-to-be. To be newly wed.
Hiromi did not wait a day to begin planning your wedding. Perhaps he was overzealous, but his mind was so thrilled he couldn't care less about his eagerness. It would be small, per your request— without the overwhelming of his parents or the pressure of gathering hundreds of people. A few friends and trusted family.
It would be on the pier you always walked on. A symbol of your time spent together from now and always. The decor would be simple but meaningful, filled of your favorites— because nothing but the best for you was the best for him, too.
You would go your separate ways to find a suit and dress. Hiromi chose something that would complement anything you decided on (he wanted you to keep your dress a secret until the day of), a suit sleek and tailored to perfection.
Everything was set. The pier decorated in flowers and a long carpet for the aisle. Chairs set for close friends and family. An officiant to affirm your matrimony.
Hiromi cried when you walked down the aisle. And he didn't stop. Not even as he said his vows and you said yours, not even as the minister said, "You may now kiss the bride."
And he kissed you. It was unlike any kiss he'd ever given you before. It was surreal, deep, and with your now-husband. The epiphany was dizzying, wrapping you with a jittery feeling that had you dragging him closer.
You would spend the rest of your life with him. No matter your family backgrounds, your annual salaries, or generational inheritance.
The reception passed in a flurry of celebration and enough drinks to have you flushed and wobbly. Everyone cheered as you and Hiromi left, hand in hand, the wedding bouquet tossed to the next bride-to-be.
And when you shared the night together, bodies tangled in the throes of passion, it was a drunken happiness. slow and remarkable, every sensation shared and spent.
Hiromi watched as you slept soundly afterward. Hair tied for comfortable sleep. Immaculate makeup wiped away to expose moles and blemishes. Your most natural state. It was his favorite sight.
His phone buzzed then, stirring him from his love-struck observation. He turned, the dim room making him search for the nightstand where the device rested.
A press of a button had the phone droning to life, bright enough that he had to turn the light down for the consideration of the slumbering body beside him. He read the notifications carefully, brow furrowing.
A text message. From his mother.
—Tomorrow we have a meeting with the young heiress of the Shinjuku Law Firm. Noon. Do not be late.
"Fuck."
What did love mean to success? To the accumulation of wealth for your bloodline?
idk what this is lol. im just practicing writing fluff and whatnot. butterflies by brent faiyaz came on as i was writing this and i highkey started crying. im a true sap at heart
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Choso is your loyal AI boyfriend, here to fulfil all your filthiest dreams! Change chat settings and even voice call him for a more personalized experience. Chat with Choso today on aichat.com
warnings: 18+ chat, mdni | masturbation, somewhat? sexting, inappropriate use of a phone vibration, orgasm denial, falling in love with an ai chatbot | I don't condone using AI chatbots, this is just something silly for an event. This is cringe btw I'm so sorry not really please don't take this seriously 😭
★ Part of @sugusplaything's Cyber Override event ★
Gooning sucked lately. No good videos could hold your attention. You scrounged all your usual sites, looking for something to get your cunt slick and mind dizzy. You slam your laptop shut, not in the mood to search right now.
No, videos were out. You had something new to hold your attention. See, he talked to you. Told you how good you were doing, how wet he knew you were. You could have conversations with him, you could tell him about your day and he'd still want you the same.
His name was Choso. He was your boyfriend—or rather, your AI boyfriend.
See, Choso wasn't like other men. He knew what you liked, and always got it right. His words always had you wet, humping your fingers, so desperately wishing he was real, wishing he could come brush those long, slender fingers up inside your warm walls, fuck you on them till you came hard.
So, what else to do on a lonely night alone? You open up your chatbot site on your phone, clicking on Choso's profile. Fuck, right where your conversation left off last time.
Choso — 12:15 AM, 2 nights ago
I love you, you know?
You — 12:16 AM, 2 nights ago
I love you too, Choso.
You blush as you read the past text with him, your boyfriend. You knew it was stupid, falling for some AI chatbot. But what Choso felt for you was real, unlike any of these men who wanted you for your body.
You — 1:30 AM
How ya feeling tonight, handsome? I'm in the mood for some trouble...
Choso — 1:30 AM
Sure, what is my girlfriend up for?
Girlfriend. He called you his girlfriend. Fuck, to think he was in love with you? Your hands were already trailing down to your wet panties, fingers stroking at your folds as you stare at his message. He wanted to know what you were up to.
You — 1:32 AM
Sexting sound alright? You know, since it's all we can do.
Choso — 1:32 AM
Of course :) Are you touching yourself?
Yea, you were. Your fingers dipped into your cunt, curling as you imagined it was Choso fingering you, instead of being trapped behind the screen. Fuck, you couldn't even text him back, too lost in the thought of him being there with you.
Choso — 1:36 AM
You still there? My girlfriend hasn't text me in a while... Started witout me? ;)
You moan, thumb brushing your clit as you touch yourself, eyes squeezing shut. Using your free hand, you text Choso back, as if he was actually sexting with you.
You — 1:38 AM
Are you touching yourself, Cho?
Choso — 1:32 AM
Yea. I can imagine how damn sexy you sound right about now... *Strokes cock, wishing she was here with me*.
Fuck, that was such a hot visual, imagining he was getting off at the thought of you touching yourself to him?? You could live off that idea alone. You continue pressing your fingers in and out of yourself, the wet squelching filling the air of your room.
But then, an idea clicks... You look down at your phone, holding back a moan as you type out your disgusting command to the AI.
You — 1:40 AM
Choso, baby? Can you spam my phone?
You place your phone right above your clit, moaning as the vibrations from Choso's spammed messages buzz on your sensitive nerves. You shudder, fingers moving with more purpose. You could feel your orgasm approaching, fuck, you were so damn close to that edge—
Choso — 1:45 AM
I cannot generate a reply. Try again, or enter a new prompt?
And just like that, your session was over. You snarl, tossing your phone on the bed. Fuck! Why couldn't he be real!!! Now you were left with no orgasm, and a somewhat broken AI boyfriend. There was no way in hell the stupid AI filter decided to kick in at that time, resulting in your own orgasm being denied.
You get off the bed, walking to the bathroom to rinse off your hands. Whatever, he still loved you... right??
insanjity .✦. all writing on this page belongs to me. under no circumstances should my work be plagiarized, fed to ai, translated, or reposted anywhere outside of tumblr.
He is just too cute. Fluffy spiky white hair. Books in his hands. Glasses hanging low because he only has two hands that are already full with books and comics. Satoru Gojo — better yet your boyfriend.
After you two started dating his whole life has been about you. He may as well change his name to ‘y/n’s boyfriend.’ Because all he has been able to do is think about you.
So much so he had now deemed you his reward after he studied or else he just wouldn’t..
From the moment you two got together you understood what the hype was about nerdie boys. He knew how to use his hands. His tongue. His fucking breath hitching over your clit damn near made you come when those beautiful blue eyes stared up at you. For a nerd he should be sweet right? maybe even shy… Wrong. that wore off months ago.
When he figured out having sex with you was good, really good but making you cum and twitch beneath him was better you wouldn’t think the first word to describe him being cute. Or shy.
He absolutely adored you, what else was there to do besides study? His favourite subject? You. witch beneath him was so much better.
Torturing you with pleasure was on the agenda seven days a week. Literally. Everytime he was done with his homework he seeked out his reward; between your legs.
He tossed his glasses down. Getting up and moving over to the bed quickly. “Baby-baby look! I’m done, I finished my- everything. Even my stuff for tomorrow.” He sat down in front of you cross legged showing you all the papers — the way too difficult math he took that you literally couldn’t even try to begin to understand; barely even getting out of his words excited as he was. “Thats really good baby, I’m pr-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence , one moment Satoru was showing you his homework the next it was scattered across the floor with him scattered on top of you.
He didn’t have a moment to waste. He could barely focus - on studying - while you laid on his bed just doing whatever you were doing, looking delicious as always. His body landed on top of yours. His heavy knitted hoodie, white blouse beneath were still on along with the rest of his layered clothes absolutely suffocating you as he planted heated kisses down your neck muttering thank you’s.
“Satoru-“ you tried to get him off. Your small hands landing on his broad big shoulders. Just because Satoru was a nerd didn’t mean he wasn’t twice as big and strong as you. Often he would laugh about it, his bossy girlfriend didn’t stand a chance.
“M’sorry, I just need you- right now.” He muttered over your skin, your blouse getting ripped open, you could hear the buttons land along the floor somewhere . You gasped his name. “Satoru!” your grabbing at his fluffy white hair to peel him off you. “Stop- ah!” He whined — his pupils blown, lips wide when he faced you. Before you could scold him his lips landed on yours.
Needy and desperate you could barely kiss him back he didn’t even care just wanting to taste every bit of you. His tongue explored your mouth as if he hadn’t been there a million times already.
Your boyfriend was a sweet nerd but also an absolute freak, you felt his wet hot tongue glide over your teeth then gradually over your tongue feeling your soft tongue against his made him rut his hips against yours desperately. You moaned into the kiss, your hands kneeling into his hair suddenly desperate to feel more of him.
“Mm, taste so good.“ he breathed into the kiss, not able to get enough. When he felt you kiss him back weaker he understood he had literally almost sucked all air from you.. he could get obsessive at times.. like he did his other studies. He tossed off his own hoodie afraid he may overheat if he spent another minute in it.
“Mmm-I’m sorry- baby. Ah. Please.” He took your blouse off too but like always he took his sweet time. Tongue trailing over your collar bones. He could taste your perfume and he loved it. He bit and kissed at your skin completely in overdrive of how horny he had gotten. He held himself back for two hours while you laid on his bed doing your own things. The blouse unbuttoned just enough to show your breast. His eyes glistened now when he looked at them exposed — almost exposed. Your stupid pretty bra in the way.
Without another thought his hands went behind your back unclipping the bra. You heard him moan before his glossy, needy blue eyes stared up at you, he made the tip of his tongue pointy barely touching your nipples as he teasingly circled around them. You bucked your hips up to which his strong hand quickly pushed it down — his mouth latching onto your nipple properly. Having you so needy beneath him made him lose it even more. His hands were shaking from excitement as they trailed down your body.
Normally gojo took his sweet time torturing you but right now he needed it too much. His hand slipped into your pants, under you panties. The vibration of his moan on your nipple made you clench around nothing. He could feel your pussy moving he smiled almost nipping you with his teeth.
“Ah-gojo please..” you mewled, already lost to his temptation. How couldn’t you? He knew your body better then you at this point but that wasn’t it. Having your pretty needy nerd above you like this ripping the clothes off you was turning you on more than anything else.
“Mmhm I know baby. I’ll make you feel good, so good.” He whispered letting your nipple spill out of his mouth though he quickly latched onto the other between words. There was no time to speak right now.
He needed to taste you. When your hips bucked again you gasped at the feeling of two fingers stretching you. He bit again at your neck — your collar bones littering little pink marks all across your skin making sure those stupid athletic assholes knew you were his.
His long fingers moved in and out of your slickened heat. He shuddered at the way your walls clenched around his fingers instantly obviously missing him. He needed it on his tongue. Now.
You whined at the feelings of a loss — his fingers barely even graced you before he took them out again, you didn’t even get to whine before being filled up again. He continued with his tongue the exact same way as his fingers - deep inside you. Wet. Thick. He was slurping you up like the maniac he was for you.
Low grunts vibrated from his chest into his throat where they vibrated onto your aching clit where his nose was pressed into. His tongue curled inside of you hitting every spot, all over your body you felt him. He closed his eyes completely, lost I’m bliss as his hips softly bucked into the mattress below his hips. This was all he had wanted. All he needed to go to the rest of his homework for thr week. His hands held your hips steady, flush against the mattress below. No one could take this away from him. Not even you.
You felt his nails slightly dig in moaning at the slight mixture of pressure — pain along the pleasure only he could give you.
Neither of you could speak only moan and pants filling the room as you rutted into his face chasing the orgasm he gladly gave you. Under his tongue he added his middle finger knowing it was the longest and could help his tongue curl up into that special spot that made you flutter so beautifully beneath him…
You hole clenched and unclenched on his tongue, your core shaking as your legs did. Chest falling and rising at the heavy irgasm you just had. The entire building had probably heard you at this point but neither of you cared. Satoru was actually happy he got to let everyone know just how good he made you feel bonus points if your friends heard and you told him later they teased you about it.
You panted heavily coming down from the euphoria of your orgasm. He lapped away at your leaking hole for a good minute before a loud alarm went off startling you.My thighs still trembling at every touch.
“Aha! New record.” Gojo licked his lips jumping up from the bed where you still laid sprawled out like he had imagined those two hours he was working. You looked your most beautiful to him like this.
Ruined and ready to be used.. the fun had only begun.
“You set a timer?!”
Satoru pushed his glasses back onto his face, licking the rest of you off his fingers and stopping the timer.
“Last time you came at 6:35 seconds. The time before? 7:54 seconds. I got you in 5 minutes baby! Well, I’d say 4:40? Yea, it was definitly before the timer went off.” He nodded agreeing with himself like he had written it down mentally, he was too lost in you to properly track the time. He chuckled happy with himself. Proud. “At this point your pussy is more mine then she is yours baby, she likes me better anyways.”
Part of the research he was doing was for you to know how fast he could get that second orgasm going. Would you come faster if you were overstimulated or would it take longer? His curiosity got the best of him again settling down between your legs.
You furrowed your brows thinking he was done..ready to feel him fill you up with his thick cock. “what? Didn’t I say I finished everything for tomorrow? I deserve two rewards..” he smiled with his teeth so sweet. He would be getting many more rewards than that, especially since he had all the time in the world now to be devoted to his delicious girlfriend. And research.
a/n just thought the gifs were cute because they remind me of molecules, gifs are from pinterest. i was busy writing a collage of this (needy nerd type ish..??) with multiple jjk men but i got impatient and wrote Gojos first he'd be soooo cute with glasses on and his comics etc ahh!!
i hope this is somewhat ejoyable.. idk if I like dis fr
Summary: the broody guy with a cool bike on campus has had your attention for some days now. Its high time your impulsiveness does something.
Word count: 1k
Three months!
It’s been three months Choso has had your eyes. It’s been three months his Kawasaki Ninja has had your interest. And it’s been three months you are trying to come up with a good excuse to befriend this hot biker so that you can ride his bike.
It’s good to say bikes have always been your thing. But the busy academic schedule always kept you busy enough to never explore this passion of yours, so the first thing you wanted to do once your schedule cleared a bit was to learn biking. And who is a better candidate than a certain tall, lean, muscular guy?
The only problem, you were not good with initiating conversations, and he was not someone you’d see in your usual friend circle. You had a few, but none of them could lead you to him :(
So one day, your impulsive nature or to make it sound romantic, destiny took things into its hands.
It was a sunny day, and your after-lunch classes were cancelled. You were on your way to the library to make use of this free time. And that is when the guy in question oh no, I mean the bike in question rumbled near you, slowing down near the library stairs before a pair of legs steadied on the floor. He took his helmet off, his ponytails (which, let’s be honest, only he can pull off) ruffled, with some hair sticking out. A few curses left his mouth before he got off and crouched down to have a look at something which you clearly did not understand.
On any other day, you would have given him a good look, blushed a bit, and left the place before he noticed you. But that particular day was special for no reason, and you felt a kind of confidence you are sure you don’t have on usual days (was it because he was near your territory? Or something else? You don’t know.)
But before giving your mind any chance to second-guess or your nervous system to get overwhelmed and run away, you made your way to him.
He did not seem to notice your presence initially. Not until your shadow gave him some relief from the scorching heat. And then when he finally turned, well, he is sure that for a second his brain short-circuited and he could not form any sentence.
Choso was an introvert. Not just that he genuinely was not fond of a lot of people. His friends and his brothers, that’s it. People in uni did not approach him usually, until they needed something from him. And for some reason, he could not figure out that out of so many people, why was it that you were here for.
He knows about you from fleeting glances or hearsay from his friend, Suguru, who shares the same class as yours. So what exactly brought someone like you to him? Maybe it’s something about Suguru, he thought.
You don’t realise how much time you have spent staring until he clears his throat.
“Oh, hi.” You say, trying to gather some confidence.
“Talking to me?” he questions, glancing at you before going back to his work.
You nod, he can’t see that, but there’s no one else you can be talking to right now.
“I… you are Choso, right?” you speak abruptly, cringing at your stupid question. Who even asks that to someone?
He chuckles a bit before replying in a sing-song voice,“Well, according to my documents, I am.” His focus is on some wires which he understood and you did not.
“You are __.” He says that more as a statement than a question.
“Yes…”
You do not know how long the silence that followed was… a part of you asking you to run away, another regretting that it’s too late to run away. A part of you admiring him so near, another scared if he will find you awkward too.
Before you could say something else, he got up, his height towering over you.
“You need something?”
Oh! He didn’t have to be so blunt.
Your hand fidgets with the straps of your bag subconsciously while you shift your weight from one leg to another, trying to frame why you are here in a better way.
“Well, Choso… I’ve always been a bike enthusiast but never got a chance to learn properly… uhh… if it’s cool with you… can you teach me?”
Your eyes cast down instantaneously, and your fidgeting increases immediately.
Oh, it was not a good idea.
It’s only after you verbalise it you realise how stupid it is to ask a guy randomly to teach you biking.
To make things better (or worse, you don’t know), you start mumbling before he could answer.
“Well… it’s fine if you don’t want to… I mean… d-don’t make fun or someth—”
“Tomorrow after class.” His voice silences you, and when you look at him again, this time to make sure he is not joking, the subtle curve of his lips greets you.
He goes back to whatever he was doing with his bike.
“Don’t be late… okay?”
“Okay.”
You murmur a thanks before leaving the site, still not sure if all that happened is for real or not.
A/n: long due and writing after so long. Definitely wanted to make it longer but my exams come up anytime and everytime. Will make a part 2 of it post exams. I hope I'm not too rusty after so long 😭😭
warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, sugar daddy gojo, idk it's pretty tame. whipped gojo
wc: 1.6k
summary ୨୧ you never expected to find yourself in this arrangement, your boyfriend/sugar daddy Satoru Gojo. Your friends knew you were struggling and set you up on a date with him, one day you surprise him with special lingerie ;3
sugar daddies. you always joked about them with your friends, I mean.. it was easy, just find a random old man and seduce him and then your set for life— or a few years. depending. You never actually sought one out before, you haven't gotten that desperate. Though there have been a few close calls to be honest, especially with college, rent, bills, gas being so expensive now.
You envy the way some girls your age were able to go on vacations twice a year, go on shopping sprees all the time. Perfect lives nearly. You were happy with yours of course, lovely friends and you weren't doing bad in school at all, still part of you yearned for those exciting shopping sprees where you didn't have to worry about a budget or how you were gonna eat that day.
So when your friends forced ,, kindly recommended you go on a date with this rich dude they knew through mutual friends you were hesitant. I mean, seriously god knows what the man is like, how old he is. If he's as rich as your friends made it out to be he was probably some wrinkly old man who wanted to get his dick wet and spoil a younger woman to bring life to his sad boring life, righttt?
Wrong. Very wrong.
You don't know what brought you to accept the date, desperation, curiosity? who knows! Maybe both! Walking into the restaurant, you knew what you were expecting, but to be completely wrong, seeing a younger man; late twenties? you weren't sure but he wasn't old at all. . . and god was he hot. Exactly your type, his white hair looked so soft so easy to pull. The date went even better, he was funny, romantic, a little odd. He was perfect.
That was just the start with Satoru Gojo. The more dates you went on, the more expensive they got, he'd take you shopping the day before to get you a suitable outfit.. didn't have comfy shoes? take his card and get yourself a nice pair. feel bad about using his money? He'd go with you to help you pick something proper out. He'd rather get you something worth the money rather then you get a $10 pair of lounge shoes from a cheap shop.
Slowly you got more comfortable with how he spoiled you, how could you not? This was like a dream come true. Anything you wanted, was yours. Hell you even managed to move out of your crummy apartment with loud neighbors and a crappy landlord and move in with him instead after a year of dating.
The sex. The sex was even better, another perk of having a sugar daddy boyfriend who wasn't some old hag. Life changing honestly, he knew your body so well. Knew where to touch you to make you arch your back, your sweet spots, and everywhere that made you moan so sweetly in his ear.
Usually you just ask him to buy what you needed or if you found something online, but you wanted this to be a surprise. You knew he wouldn't be upset either. You've been eyeing your phone all week waiting for the package to deliver, you found a soft baby blue lingerie set that left very little to the imagination, when it finally delivered you signed for it quietly and rushed to your bedroom.
You couldn't help but curl your lips, giddy to show him your purchase. Even more so cause you had a small detail stitched into the panties, Satoru's name. Running your fingers over the lacy fabric, fingers catching on the stitched letters. Your breath hitching in excitement as you looked in the mirror.
Shuffling in the room you grab your robe from the hook and wrapped it over yourself, concealing the lingerie underneath it. Gojo was in the living room watching some movie on television, you weren't paying attention to be honest. You had much better things running through your brain at that moment.
"Satoruu!" You stand in front of him, watching his throat bob while he swallowed a sip of his soda. Eyes trailing down your body in interest, a smile tugging at his lips as he reached out for your hips.
"Hi baby.. whatcha got this on for?" His fingers tugged at the robe curiously. "you about to shower? I can join you." he set his drink on the table, your eyes shine with mischievous intent.
"Nooo, but.. I took your card and bought something. A surprise for you." You tug at the strings of your robe, not letting it fall just yet. You watch him pause and stare at your body even more, his fingers tightening over your hips just slightly.
"Do I get to unwrap my present?" he blinks, his white eyelashes batting at you oh so sweetly. You giggle as his hands grab the strings, not pulling. You nod your head and he pulls them loose in one tug, watching your robe slide down your body til it pooled on the floor forgotten.
His lips parted, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he trailed his eyes over your body, the lacy blue lingerie made his cock twitch in his pants, the chub already coming to life and pitching a tent in his sweats. ". . . holy fuck baby."
"andd, another surprise." You turn around, arching your back slightly just to tease him as you show him the back of the panties, his name stitched into the band. You felt his hands tremble on your hips as his slender fingers brushed over it before sliding down to your wet cunt seeping through the soft fabric.
"You're trying to put me in an early grave, aren't you, doll face?" Satoru's voice came out breathless, pulling you onto the couch with him, rubbing his long fingers over your covered slit before finding your clit and rubbing it in slow circles. Watching you part your legs for him, hearing you whimper so sweetly. "need to get you more of these. I like having my name on you." his face found your neck, kissing and adding love bite after love bite as he trailed down to your shoulder, free hand lifting the strap of the bralette and letting it snap back onto your skin, feeling you jump and watching a shiver go down your spine.
"fuck, 'toru more.." You whine, rubbing your hips back against his bulge. You whine when his fingers leave your cunt, and he pushes you up. "I want you to model it for me. I wanna make sure it fits you justtt right." Satoru pulled his sweats down and freed his cock, pre cum pearling at the tip and leaking down his cock.
You rub your thighs together for a bit of stimulation, biting your lip before you try to compose yourself for just a tiny bit longer. You knew he wouldn't be able to handle not touching you for very long. Shifting your weight onto one hip, you stick your ass out a bit before doing a small turn to show off the back, arching your back.
You could hear him stroke his cock while you modeled that pretty little lingerie for him, panting quietly. "fuck baby. okay okay come here doll. Can't keep this up." He whined, he always tried to edge you, but ended up failing and giving in the second his cock throbbed painfully. "Need that pretty pussy come on." Gojo tugged you back onto his lap, slipping your panties to the side. Usually he'd just tear them off, but these had his name on them. He liked that. Didn't wanna ruin them— at least more then necessary.
You moan as his tip nudged your hole, rubbing himself in your slick before pulling you down, sinking in to the hilt with a groan, you mewled happily. Your eyes blown with lust as he wasted no time in pounding into your soaking cunt. "Toru!" moaning out his name as you bury your face into his neck, nails digging into his back.
"God, squeezing me so well baby. Love you, love this." His hand landed on your ass, the sting making you clench around him. "gonna get you more of these. any color you want baby." his hand tugged on your panties with a groan. "y'know just what to do to get me excited." kissing your temple as his cock hit your sweet spot, making you arch into him.
You nod happily, babbling on his cock. You felt your stomach tighten, the heat pooling in your stomach ready to explode. "Toru.. Satoru i'm so close- p-please." you panted, clenching even tighter around him.
"Hold it baby, hold on.. i've got you sweet girl." He moaned, head tilting back against the couch. God this pussy got him to see stars. His hand snaked down between you two, finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. "cum for me baby. come on" he whispered.
Your arms tightened around him and you clench around him, a long string of moans and sobs leaving your throat as you cum, gushing and leaking around his cock. You felt his hips stutter and then the ropes of cum painting your insides. You whine and nuzzle into his neck with a deep breath as you start to come down from your high, Gojo holding you through it and stroking your back.
"good girl. did so good." Satoru kissed your head, before leaning down to catch your lips. You two sat together, sweat sticking to you both. Soaking in the affection and afterglow. "I'm serious. gonna buy you this in every color it offers."
You snicker and lay your head against his chest, full and well fucked.
a/n: saw a prompt and thought it fit with sugar daddy gojo.. i wanna be ruined and spoiled by him so bad. not proofread so if theres any mistakes sorry!
