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you slip on the dress you had chosen for the party, the silk falling and framing your body perfectly. your boyfriend wanted to put a spin on the night, but you questioned his ethics. especially since you heard him say it was something about a vibrator and the public. you slip the portable vibrator in your panties and pull them up.
you walk out of your shared bedroom— straight into the living room, and he's perched on the sofa, scrolling and tapping on his phone. he looks up and his jaw drops.
gorgeous, beautiful, stunning are the only words he can think of to describe you right now. if he could pause time, he would pause it here for a whole hour just to get over how you looked. and he would never get tired of looking at you.
"wow, babydoll. you're really stunning. fuck." he says in awe, cock stirring in his slacks.
how was he going to survive a whole night like this?
you walk outside with him, hand in hand. he opens the car door for you and sits in the drivers seat, buckling his seatbelt, placing his hand on your thigh. you squeeze his hand in return, sending a confident smile his way.
the car ride is filled with anticipation and sexual tension, your shared playlist playing off the speakers of the car.
you finally make it to an extravagant villa stacked with decorations and people. lots and lots of people. an abundance of people, really. you step out of the car, heels clacking loudly on the concrete pavement, a sound of pure dominance.
you make your way into the house, greeting the people you know with curt hugs and simple greetings.
your eyes widen. you feel the vibrator between your folds twitch and you instantly run to the bathroom. fuck, you just got here as well.
it was practically pulsating and buzzing for everyone to hear. how shameless! and at your best friends' house party as well. nasty. dirty. disgusting.
the beautiful dress you had bought a few days ago gets pulled up to your waist, silk fabric bunching up over your stomach.
you pull down your soaked panties, sticky cum dripping down your leg. the vibrator was still buzzing. he still had the remote. it sounded more loud in the ambient bathroom, probably the quietest place in this house currently.
fuck, how was the dress not completely wet at this point?
why did you even agree to this anyway?
as you get lost in your thoughts, there's a quiet knock on the door.
"baby? you alright in there?" your boyfriend's voice soothes your nerves of being seen for the tiniest moment.
"uh, yeah, i'm alright. could you turn the vibration down though? i wanna make it through the night."
you practically hear his smirk from outside the door, sharp voice echoing in your head.
"no. let me in, sweetheart."
you pull the wet panties up, cum catching on your folds once more, cold feeling sending a shiver down your spine.
your manicured nails make their way to the doorknob, twisting the door open. as you expected, you are greeted with his grinning face.
he takes a step in, pressing the lock on the door with a satisfying click.
your knees buckle— creamy thighs pressing together as he moves closer and closer to you by the second.
"oh, gorgeous. look at you. so.. wet—"
his hand runs up your thigh, fingers slipping under your panties to collect the crusting cum that had formed there earlier.
"all because of this stupid machine, huh? i could get you wetter by myself. wanna test that?"
there's a 99% chance that's true, so there's no arguing with him there. you look into his eyes, a clumsy nod going his way.
he grins, two fingers meeting your dripping orifice,
your legs threaten to collapse on the cold tiles, hands clamping onto his shoulders as he fingers you in 'n out.
"god— fuuuckk, keep doin' that!" you groan as your teeth sink into his shoulder, muffling your pretty moans.
he grabs you by your hair as he fingers deeper, nails digging into your scalp, blurring the delicious line between pain and sex.
your mascara smudges on his shirt, head buried into his shoulder as your legs finally fall, orgasm spilling all over the cold flooring.
he brings his cum stained fingers up to his lips, licking it straight off in one swipe.
your boyfriend picks you and your panties up, sliding them over your wet 'n quivering thighs, shoving the cum right back up your pleasured pussy.
"dirty girl. look at what you did to the floor."
"i'm kidding. you did amazing. and sounded great as well. let's hope your friend doesn't mind the mess."
you stare at the watery floor, hands clenching around his strong arms.
he laughs for a brief second, holding you more lovingly than before.
Now, this started with your decision to finally write him a note back.
You sat at your desk late one evening. The dorm room was quiet except for the soft hum of your lamp. You took your time with it. Folded a plain piece of notebook paper in half. Rewrote the message three times because your handwriting annoyed you. Almost crumpled it. Almost said it in person instead. But no, he deserved this. A proper response. One that hit him right in that annoyingly soft heart he thought he was hiding.
You didn't give it to him directly. You tucked it into the pocket of your hoodie. The one he stole weeks ago and refused to give back. It still smelled like him. Citrus and warmth and that faint trace of his cologne that always made your stomach flutter. You knew he would find it eventually. You hoped he was alone when he did.
Two days later your phone buzzed with messages from him.
“you’re evil evil im losing my MIND im lying face down in my bed with my heart in my teeth”
You just sent back a simple smiley face.
:)
The note was short and honest and practically all you.
“since you’re always talking, here’s something from me<3 you make everything feel special. like i didn’t even know i was missing anything until you showed up and looked at me like that. i love the way you laugh when you think you’re being clever. i love the way you go quiet when you’re actually nervous. i love the way you always reach for me first. i love you. that’s all. – your favourite distraction”
He found it in the middle of changing. He pulled the hoodie over his head and felt something crinkle. Stopped. Pulled the note out. Stared at it. Blinked. And melted.
He fell back onto his bed like he'd been shot. Still clutching the letter in one hand while the other blindly reached for a pillow to scream into. The fabric muffled his groan. His cheeks burned hot. He read it once. Then again. Then again. Mouth pressed to the pillow. Hoodie still half on. Eyes wide and dazed and so fucking in love he couldn't breathe.
The words sank into him deep. Every line felt like your hands on his skin. Like your voice whispering against his ear in the dark. He pressed the note to his chest. Heart hammering wildly. The boy who left sticky notes everywhere. The one who hoarded your lip balm and a single sock and bracelet like treasures. Now he held this. Proof you saw him. All of him.
Later, when you came over, he didn't say anything right away. The moment you walked in, he pulled you into a kiss, not a hug. Long and deep, anchoring you. His hands cupped your face like you might disappear. Lips moving slowly at first, then hungry. Tongue sliding against yours with a desperation that made your knees weak.
You laughed into it, a little breathless. Pulling back just enough to ask. “What was that for?”
He just mumbled against your mouth. “I’m gonna frame that note. Sleep with it under my pillow. Tattoo it on my chest.”
You rolled your eyes. Fondness swelling in your chest. “You cried, didn’t you?”
“I emotionally blushed, which is worse.”
You kissed him again, just to make it better. Just to feel what it was like to be loved back that hard.
His dorm room felt smaller with the intensity between you. Clothes came off in a heated rush. Your hoodie. His shirt. The stolen one you had slipped the note into now lay discarded on the floor. He lifted you onto his bed. Hands roaming everywhere. Tracing your thighs. Gripping your hips. Pulling you close until there was nothing between you but heat and need.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered. Voice rough as he kissed down your neck. Teeth grazing your collarbone. “That note. Fuck. I read it ten times and couldn't stop.”
You arched into him. Fingers threading through his white hair. Tugging gently. “Good. You leave me filthy ones all the time. Thinking about my mouth. My thighs. Now you know how it feels.”
He groaned. Low and needy. Mouth closing over your breast. Tongue swirling until you moaned his name. His hand slid between your legs. Fingers teasing, finding you already wet and ready. He stroked slow, deliberately drawing it out until your hips bucked against his touch.
“Satoru,” you gasped. Body trembling.
He kissed lower. Down your stomach. Between your thighs. That wicked tongue replacing his fingers. Lapping at you with devotion. Like he was savoring every sound you made. Your hands fisted the sheets. Pleasure building sharp and fast. He didn't stop until you came undone. Shuddering against his mouth. His name falling from your lips like a prayer.
He moved up then. Kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on him. His cock pressed hard against your thigh. You reached down. Stroked him slow. Feeling him twitch in your hand.
“Want you,” you murmured. “Now.”
He didn’t need telling twice. He pushed inside you in one smooth thrust. Both of you moaning at the feeling. He filled you perfectly. Deep and thick. Hips rolling in a rhythm that made stars burst behind your eyes. You wrapped your legs around him. Nails digging into his back.
Every thrust carried the weight of his love. The notes. The stolen things. The way he looked at you like you were his whole world. He whispered filthy praises between kisses. How tight you felt. How perfect. How he could stay buried in you forever.
You came again. Clenching around him. Pulling him over the edge with you. He spilled deep inside. Groaning your name. Body shuddering as he held you close.
Afterward you lay tangled together. Sweat cooling on your skin. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare back. The note sat on his nightstand now. Carefully smoothed out.
“You really kept all my little things,” you said softly. Thinking of the lip balm. The sock. The bracelet tucked in his drawer.
He smiled. Pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Every single one. They remind me you're real. That you chose me. And now this note. It is going in the collection too. Right at the top.”
You laughed. Nuzzling closer. “You’re such a sap.”
“Your sap,” he corrected. Voice warm. “The one who gets emotional and cry over your words.”
The rain started outside again. Soft and steady like so many afternoons before. You thought of baby pictures and childhood albums. Of all the versions of him you loved. The goofy. The restless. The endlessly loving man beside you now.
He reached for the note. Read it once more. Cheeks tinting pink even after everything you had just done. He covered his face with a pillow for a second. Mumbling something incoherent.
You pulled the pillow away. Kissed him slow and sweet. “I meant every word.”
“I know,” he whispered. Eyes shining. “That's why I'm losing my mind over it.”
You spent the night like that. Trading kisses. Sharing stories. Laughing about the notes that started it all. The dumb ones. The sweet ones. The filthy ones that left you flustered in lectures. His hand never left your skin. Reaching for you first. Just like you wrote.
In the quiet hours he pulled you on top of him again. Slower this time. Bodies moving together in the dark. Every touch reverent. Every moan laced with love. You rode him steady. Hands on his chest. Watching his face twist with pleasure. He gripped your hips. Guiding you. Whispering how much he loved you. How you made everything feel like home.
When you both came again it was together. Waves of bliss washing over you. Collapsing into each other afterward. Breath mingling. Hearts beating in sync.
He kept the note close. Tucked under his pillow as promised. A sacred thing. A piece of your heart now living in his space. Just like all the little pieces of you he had collected before.
You knew there would be more notes. More stolen hoodies. More moments like this. Filthy and sweet and everything in between. Because he was your favorite distraction. And you were his home.
The rain kept falling. Soft against the windows. Inside his arms you drifted off. Loved...wanted. Completely his. And he was completely yours. In every version. In every little note. Forever.
Raising two kids under ten was, to say the least, a hassle, especially with another on the way.
You were only two months along, yet it felt as if the baby was ready to go, with how heavy you felt, although that may be due to your husband's insistence on feeding you.
Even though every night the two of you were left exhausted from running after your children, wrangling them into the bath, and trying to persuade them to eat their vegetables, there was one thing that kept both of you enthusiastic for bedtime.
A soft whine could be heard from Choso as you swivelled your hips, nuzzling his fat dick deeper into your walls. “B-Baby, are you sure — hah — sure you want to be on top? I don't want you to str — ngh — ain yourself,” his voice wavered, as if he himself were debating whether or not to continue to let you top.
You moaned softly as you pulled yourself up and fell right back down onto his dick, “mhmm, need it so bad, Cho.” He watched as your breasts bounced, so full and heavy already. One cold hand reached up to grab the skin and roll his thumb over your nipple gently. A squeak left your mouth at the contact, head thrown back in pleasure as you continued to ride your husband.
Choso’s abs tightened, “So pretty, love having you pregnant. Love seeing these tits so full.” He looked as if he was struggling to keep his eyes open, his body threatening to pass out from the pleasure.
His free hand travelled down to your stomach, resting there to feel your stomach swell with his child. “Just want you to fill me up again, Cho,” you slurred, head lolling to the side as your hand made its way to your stomach to rest on top of his. Choso blinked up at you like you had hung the stars; a dopey smile rested on his pale face.
“Y-Yeah?” He stuttered out, “If i could, I’d keep you full forever, baby.” He bucked his hips up into yours lightly as if to prove his point.
You squirmed above him, face scrunching up in pleasure as his fat tip hit your g-spot. A loud moan slipped from your lips, and your legs trembled on either side of his hips. With each roll of your hips, you could feel your clit grind against his pelvis, causing your cunt to flutter wildly around him.
“Fuck, keep doing that, please.” He moaned softly, watching with hooded eyes as you bounced in him with renewed vigour.
You looked so beautiful to Choso, all fucked out, sweaty, and pregnant. Choso loved how you looked pregnant; you were the embodiment of pregnancy glow to him.
“Ah — Choso, feels so good,” you whined, nails beginning to claw at his chest and stomach to ground yourself. Choso groaned, dark hair falling across his eyes and sticking to his forehead. He watched as you scraped angry red lines down his skin and moaned at the pain.
The obscene shlick shlick shlick filled the quiet room as you moved your hips faster, chasing your impending orgasm.
Choso choked on his own whines, hips desperately fucking up into you both to satisfy you and out of sheer selfish desperation. “My pref — shit — p-perfect wife,” he babbled, rough hands now clutching your ass with surprising tenderness.
You moaned at the praise, your body feeling as if it were on fire, your thigh burned, and your brain fogged, but you continued to ride your husband as if your life depended on it.
The lewd clapping of skin mingled with the other filthy sounds from both of you, slick and sweat-coated, you both, and a frothy ring now decorated Choso’s base.
Each thrust pushed you closer to the edge, his fat cock stretching you out to no end, filling you up completely.
Choso choked on something between a moan and a whimper, losing his own rhythm as his cock twitched violently. “Going to — to stuff you full, so fucking full.” He punctuated the curse with a particularly harsh thrust, throwing his head back and whimpering loudly as his cum filled your cunt.
He continued to fuck you through his orgasm, pushing you into your own. You came around him with an almost pornographic moan, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you flopped down onto his chest.
The two of you lay there in silence, still plugged full of his cum.
“If you let me give you two more, I can be a stay-at-home dad.”
“Choso, unless you find a way to get pregnant, it's not happening.”
NEW HAIRCUT IS SICCKKKK TY FOR THE TAG REAP speaking of haircuts, im waiting a little longer before i go to a salon and get actual bangs that arent my mistakes help anyway. . ALSO LOOK IT HAD A WHITE BUDGIE IM CRYING TEARS OF JOY
top ten things ive EVER said
no pressure tags: @livelaughalexisness @aprlsbloom @kiyofiles @jelly-kibtyfish
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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i think many readers underestimate the power of comments. sure likes are amazing too and it got me smiling all big when one of my stories reaches 1k or more likes. but comments? woah. asks (anon or not)? my heart is beating like crazy. funny reblogs with tags/comments/pics? i’m kicking my feet for 3 business days. it’s the interactions that has me motivating primarily. i know i know mostly i just like the comments, but that’s more of a time issue rather than i don’t appreciate you issue. i promise. 🩷🫶🏼
NEW HAIRCUT IS SICCKKKK TY FOR THE TAG REAP speaking of haircuts, im waiting a little longer before i go to a salon and get actual bangs that arent my mistakes help anyway. . ALSO LOOK IT HAD A WHITE BUDGIE IM CRYING TEARS OF JOY
top ten things ive EVER said
no pressure tags: @livelaughalexisness @aprlsbloom @kiyofiles @jelly-kibtyfish
"五条 悟 ✶ GOJO SATORU," ◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ wait, who's gojos girlfriend? The quiet girl at the back of the classroom? ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა artist credits: official jjk art reblog / like 2 support ⃘໋ׅ♡ 𝑤.𝑐: 1.3k ⁀ ˳ ⟡
♡⏝ ⸝⸝ 𝓦ARNINGS ˖ ❝ sfw fluff crack she/her pronouns nanami, haibara, suguru & shoko cameo reader is quiet & introverted shy-ish!reader popular boy!gojo 2006 timeline reader & gojo are like 17 reader obvi isn't loud and won't appeal to everyone only tooth rotting fluff canon compliant au before hidden inventory / premature death 2nd person perspective ❞
── #⃝ MINA'S NOTES ( 💬 ) literally me and gojo bro masterlist <3
GOJO SATORU was the it boy of popular boys in the 2000s.
There's fan pages of him online, teenage girls and boys take pictures with him in the street asking "can I punk my friends and tell them you're my boyfriend?" and how could he say no and stop people from experiencing the awesomeness that is Satoru Gojo. His flip phone is usually set to silent or vibration only, since he often took pictures of himself and uploaded them to Mixi and Nico Niico Douga under his "digimoncutiez639" persona. Blurry photos taken in the Shinjuku nightlife, mostly ones he had forced suguru and shoko to take for him.
junmasamoto4199: "digimoncutiez639 is meccha kakkoii! >_<"
Xx_Imblue_xX: "That boy is chou sekushii"
tempura2: "*gyaa gyaa . . . i wish he waz my bf (╥﹏╥)"
The last comment was one he seemed to get a lot, and he didn't exactly reject any of his dedicated fan girls and fan boys, never replying to comments unless the asked for where his outfit was from. He didn't avoid telling people that he was dating you, per say, it was more that… people reacted differently. Almost as if he was lying to them.
The first time had been almost at the end of his first year at Jujutsu Technical College and 3 weeks after he had officially asked you out. The upperclassmen usually avoided him, put off by the so called "prodigy," but he had finally been able to strike up a conversation with them after the school's athletics carnival had went well. Suguru had kicked the football a total of 3 times and scored one goal, while Satoru had hogged the ball most of their first year match and scored over 10 goals, before Yaga had dragged him off of the field by his ear.
"Ohhh, right, I saw you get dragged off," Haruto has nodded and yawned, scratching the back of his neck, while Yoshida had hummed. "Yeah, Sawako even wanted us to check up on you, pfft," he snorted before Haruto nudged him to shut up.
"Whaaat? I'm being a good friend," Yoshida scoffed and rolled his eyes with a prideful smile, before his eyes looked over at his tall underclassman again. "Yo, Satoru, do you have a girlfriend?" he asked bluntly, ignoring his friends glares and sighs of embarrassment and awkwardness.
He had raised a confused eyebrow, before pointing his thumb back at the classroom. He was sure he had kissed you and held your hand on the bleachers that day, did they not see? More importantly, you were literally the most gorgeous and prettiest girl in his eyes, obviously someone as hot as him was perfectly paired with another otaku baddie like you! Pshhhh, maybe they couldn't believe someone like him has been able to pull you.
"Yeah. Her." His thumb pointed back at your figure in the empty classroom.
Yoshida and Haruto had peered into the classroom, only to see… some girl they had never seen before. Plain hair, plain eyes, plain uniform, and a plain you just pressing away at your Tamagotchi. Haruto and Yoshida shared a confused look, before Yoshida clicked his fingers and gasped. "O-oh yeah, that's the girl I was telling you about the other day! You know, the one who walked away when I was trying to ask her for directions?" Haruto nodded, eyes lighting up in recognition, before confusion washed over their faces at the same time.
"What?" They had blurted at the white haired student, going on and on about how someone like me should hate someone like gojo, and that we were clearly not meant for each other, and how they were going to tell Sawako that it'd be a waste of her time to pursue Satoru. As if Satoru wasn't right there. His eyes narrowing and upper lip curling in obvious annoyance.
"Hey, dumbasses. That's my girlfriend you're talking about," he scoffed at him, pushing past and going back inside the classroom to sit next to you again.
You had looked over at him curiously, showing him the small screen of your Tamagotchi. "Look, our child is growing," with that casual smile on your face. Satoru blinked, his face straight, before he broke out into coos and awhs, pinching your cheeks and suffocating you in kisses all over your face. "Aghhhh, get off of me! You lunatic!" You had huffed, while he was happily kissing your face all over, "you're such a good mother to our baby dragon! Awhhh, what's the name you chose for him again, my beautiful princess?"
You had huffed, looking a mess before sighing and giving the toy to him. "Sylus."
That day was one of the main reasons that Satoru avoided outright disclosing your relationship, preferring to show it to people instead.
Nanami didn't need to ask when he finally had enrolled into JJT, as Satoru made it a habit to hold your hand at every chance he got, and kiss your cute face. Haibara, unfortunately, hadn't seen enough or gotten the clue, only seeing how quiet and standoffish you were, and made the brilliant terrible statement when you all were camping in the back of the forest behind JJT for fun. Unfortunately, Haibara had spoken right in front of Satoru fucking Gojo, or Satoru L/N as he'd prefer to be called.
The fire crackled in the cold dark night, illuminating 6 faces in the forest, as the scent of pine and wet soil drifted through the air. "Y/N and Nanami would make a good pair, wouldn't they? They're so similar!" he had smiled happily and adjusted his hold on the marshmallow he was roasting, not noticing Suguru choking on his spit, Shoko looking up at him and even pausing in chewing her gum. He especially didn't notice Satoru freezing, when he was draping his expensive jacket over your shoulders, cold icy blue eyes glaring holes at the sweet boy's face.
"Converg—" Suguru had jumped to stop and tackle gojo to the ground before he could possibly have killed Haibara.
After calming Gojo down, mostly by you looking at Gojo as if he was embarrassing you and him whining apologies to you, Haibara had finally been made aware that Gojo and you were dating. "Ohhh, you're Y/N's boyfriend, sorry Satoru, I didn't know," Haibara had chuckled and nodded his head in an apology.
"We're married," he lifted his hand to show a string you had tied around his ring finger a few minutes ago while fidgeting with him quietly. "We're not married," you shook your head bluntly, correcting him with a straight face.
"Engaged. We're engaged." he nodded proudly and flipped his hair back, all cool and already thinking about wanting to whip out his digital camera and force Suguru to take more shots of him for his fans.
"We're 17, Satoru."
"We have a child."
"I have a Tamagotchi pet… one that you get jealous of."
"We're madly in love then." He nodded again, not shy or embarrassed after being shut down by you so many times. He waited, Suguru waited, even Nanami waited, wanting to hear you correct Satoru's claim. Only after a full minute had passed, Satoru smirked, a blush on his cheeks as he shrugged, "see, she loves me. Hah," he smirked and stuck his tongue out at Nanami for a split second, knowing the blond man had been doubting him.
That's when he felt your lips press against his cheek. Very rarely did you initiate an sort of romantic gestures, let alone kisses.
His face had turned beet red, while you were looking at him confused. Blinking blankly, and Suguru laughing loudly in the background. Yes, Satoru did love his girlfriend, more than he loved anyone or anything else, and much to peoples complaints . . .
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You’re not… a pervert, exactly. Sure, you’ve imagined your boyfriend being stuffed from behind by his (equally sexy) best friend, but it’s not like you’d ever act on it! Well, that is until Gojo shows up gleefully at your shared apartment with a few new types of alcohol ‘to try’ and your mouth speaks before you can think about it.
“Toru, did you ever fuck Suguru in university?”
Gojo freezes, glass halfway to his pretty mouth. Initially, you’re mortified and think he’s probably considering breaking up with you right there- instead, the flush dusting across his cheeks tells you the answer to your question.
“Hm.” You smile knowingly, slow and coy, then cross your legs over each other. “Would… would you do it again?”
That’s how, a week later, you find yourself perched cosily in the chair that sits in the corner of your bedroom as you watch your usually strong, cocky boyfriend get reduced to a babbling mess on his best friend’s cock.
“Oh fuck, fuck, Sugu-“ Gojo gasps, hand reaching out blindly for the tangled sheets in front of him, his broad shoulders shaking with the effort of holding himself up on his corded forearms. Geto’s expansive back muscles roll as he rocks his hips forwards into your boyfriend, a few pieces of silky hair plastered to his face already.
“Come on, Satoru.” Geto purrs, snapping his hips once to hear the strangled noise that chokes out of your boyfriend’s throat, “don’t tell me you can’t take it anymore? You used to do it so well.” His hand entwines in Gojo’s hair and pulls, simultaneously bringing his body down to shove his tongue against his.
The mere sight of it is enough for you to gasp beneath your breath, electricity bubbling between your thighs as you watch Geto devour Gojo’s face. Soft white hair is crumpled beneath his fingers as Gojo moans desperately into the other man’s mouth, rutting backwards as he seeks the compatibility of their hips smacking together.
To be honest, you’d expected Gojo to be the top at first. Maybe it was because you were projecting the way he’d relentlessly pummel into you sometimes, how his big hand would wrap around your throat and clench enough for you to squeal beneath him. Or maybe you just wanted to see how beautiful Geto’s hair would look against your pillows.
But when Geto had walked into the bedroom, hair loosely undone as he yanked his shirt over his tanned shoulders, it wasn’t just you who drooled- Gojo had looked at him nervously, then you, kissed your forehead softly and murmured a little. Geto comfortingly rubbed your lower back and moved away. Even if he was about to fuck your boyfriend in front of you, he was still nice about it.
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” He’d said nervously, thumb running over your knuckles. “It’s… Suguru could be a lot, baby.”
Your eyes had drifted over to the man then, already spread out lazily on the edge of your bed as he waited for your conversation to be over. Geto was leaning back on his haunches, thighs resting apart as though he was waiting for Gojo to drop to his knees between them. Strangely, the thought didn’t peak jealousy in you but a thick, sticky desire to see it.
Turning your attention back to your boyfriend, “yes, Satoru.” Whispered against his mouth, “I trust you. And I want to watch.”
Geto smirked behind you and you met his eyes; you weren’t that close with him, really, but at least you had something to bond over now.
Fucking Satoru Gojo.
Which is what he’s doing now- exceptionally well, in fact. Geto has Gojo facing you, his bright blue eyes cloudy and dropped to the floor as he’s pistoned back and forth by the cock rummaging around in his insides. He can see your socked feet, one thigh pressed over the other.
“Don’t tell me you can’t take it.” Geto says again, voice pattered with the occasional groan as Gojo clenches around him. “Not even for her?”
Gojo gasps as a strong hand digs into the roots of his hair and yanks him up to face you, blue and dilated eyes rolling in his skull at the pain before he trembles them to face your face. He’s expecting you to look a little horrified, shocked and mortified at how pathetic he can get- but, to his surprise (dulled by the feeling of Geto’s cock prodding inside him) you… don’t.
Your lips are parted in a little disbelieving ‘o’ shape, panties soaked through- not that he can see that part- your thighs switching between squeezing together and parting as the sensation gets too much. “Look at him.” Geto laughs, “so pretty for us, isn’t he?”
You nod, biting your lip as your boyfriend hangs his head again. “So pretty for us, toru.” You agree softly.
His cock, pale but flushed angrily at the tip as Geto uses his hands to grip his hips instead, hangs untouched between his muscled thighs and twitches pre onto the sheets. You’d feel sorry for him if he didn’t look so utterly gorgeous getting destroyed in front of your face like this.
Gojo’s arms finally give up as Geto’s tip bumps rigidly across his sweet spot, elbows collapsing onto the sheet along with his face as it smushes down. Gojo’s spine curves in a way you’ve never thought it could- his hips gripped up by Geto, shoulders flat as a hand splays them out. He looks wrecked.
You slip from the chair to the floor, knees on the carpet, ignoring the way Geto moans to focus on your boyfriend as he struggles to keep his eyes open at the sudden wave of pleasure when his ass is yanked backwards again; his cheeks are sweaty when you instinctively reach out for him, instinctively seeking to comfort, and he leans into your touch just as naturally.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-“ he whimpers, panicking at the stimulation and his snowy lashes batting across his cheek. “C-can’t-“
“You can, Satoru.” You whisper to him, lifting his head and thumbing away a few shaky tears threatening to brim at his waterline. “You’re being so, so good, sweetheart.”
He gasps out your name weakly and arches further when he shoves his mouth against yours blindly. The kiss is soft, a contrary to the way Geto is ruining him; your hands gently brush away white hair from his eyes, your touch loving.
“I’m close.” Geto breathes, his hand still pressing down between Gojo’s shoulders. You, still breathless from the kiss and the vision of your boyfriend, raise a surprised eyebrow at Gojo’s moan and you realise just how long he’s gone without real direct stimulation.
“It’s okay, baby.” You soothe him as you move from his field of vision to kneel beside him on the bed, ignoring the constant smacking of skin on skin while your hand snakes between his thighs to wrap around his cock.
“Ah-“ he sobs, “fu-ck-“
Geto makes the mistake of looking down at you, at the way your eyes are all glossy and your hand is coated in shiny pre while you work your boyfriend up to his orgasm. Something about it, about being allowed into this space where his control is only a mimicry of yours, makes Geto’s abdomen clench.
He gasps, the sound punched in on itself, as his head tips backwards and he jutters his hips deep enough to make Gojo choke while he spills inside him. At the same time, your thumb presses down on your boyfriend’s sensitive slit and he cums across your knuckles. It’s thick and there’s ropes of it, dripping messily onto the bed.
“Shh, you did so good for us.” You murmur to Gojo as Geto pulls out, presses a polite kiss to your cheek, then sets about to gather his things as he lets you sweet talk your boyfriend.
“Yeah?” Gojo laughs weakly, a little embarrassed now he’s coming down from the sex. “You weren’t… you liked it?”
“I did.” You giggle, wrapping your arms around his awkwardly long limbs while you gently smile at Geto. “Bye, Suguru.”
He laughs, tying his hair back up after tucking his cock away and pulling his clothes on. “Bye. And bye, Satoru.”
Gojo flushes embarrassingly bright against you. “Bye.”
“So…” you say quietly, combing your nails through his white hair. “Should I join in next time? It looked fun.”
♡ ⸝⸝ hate sex with academic rival!gojo ! ❤︎₊ ⊹
cw: nsfw ⸝⸝ hate sex ⸝⸝ teasing
student council president was yours. how, one might ask, is no one’s concern but yours. and especially not satoru gojo’s.
each and every year, you drowned in piles of schoolwork. on top of that, it was twenty times harder than it needed to be because you had to be top of the class. if you weren’t, he would be, and you couldn’t let that happen. not this unit, not next semester, not ever.
there was mutual respect for each other. the two of you had to be good to be constantly head to head with each other. so naturally, you both understood the importance of de-stressing.
the arrangement was simple. sex with absolutely no strings attached. it worked for the both of you and it was separate from your academic lives. until, you decided use it to your advantage.
“hmm, let’s try that again. ‘toru, what is your stance on the budget cuts?”
he laid his on the headboard behind him as he caught his breath. you raised an eyebrow at him, displeased with the lack of response. you lifted your hips slowly, before slamming back down on his dick.
satoru groaned softly. his large hands flew to your waist and he gripped your hips tightly like he was trying to ground himself. you didn’t miss the way he twitched inside of you the second your hips met his.
“not…telling,” he barely managed. you’ve been edging him for the past hour and you showed no signs of stopping. satoru had no idea that you’d resort to exploiting him for information. if he had, you’d assume he would have been more prepared.
“i can do this allll day.” you rolled your hips and he whimpered your name. you weren’t immune to his broken cries. your cunt fluttered involuntarily at the sound of your name on his lips. “huh, so you’re not immune.”
you frowned at him. “what? what does that mean?”
without warning, he grabbed you and flipped you over. you yelped as your back hit the mattress with a soft thud. you blinked and there you were, now underneath him.
the asshole was somehow still inside of you. he grinned from ear to ear, and that’s when you knew you were done for.
"funny you mention that. turns out, i’m in need of some inspo for my budget plan," he started off. he pulled out of your cunt with a lewd squelch. "care to lend a hand?"
you rolled your eyes at him. "no, i'm trying to win. i deserve that position more than anyone else."
he teased your entrance with his tip, spreading your slick on your folds, cerulean eyes never leaving yours. a groan slipped from your lips and you cursed under your breath. his lips curved into a lazy smile that almost made you believe he was too tired to try anything. almost.
“is that so?”
you rolled your eyes again. “from an objective standpoint, if we were to be honest with ourselves about who is the most qualified here, it’d definitely be m—”
satoru slammed back into you, effectively causing you to shut up. you bit back a moan and tried not to squirm underneath him. he split you open with such ease that it was baffling.
“hm, what was that again?” he smirked from above you and you scowled. he snapped his hips, setting a brutal pace as he bullied your tight cunt. you tried not to let him hear how good he was making you feel, but he insisted.
“you’ve always got a lottt to say. i wanna hear you. don’t hold back now,” he taunted. his eyes locked with yours. you didn’t reply. instead, you leaned forward to kiss him. his lips ghosted over yours before pulling away. you glared at him for tricking you. you opened your mouth to retort, but that’s when he slipped deeper inside and nudged your g spot. the swift motion caught you completely off guard. you cried out his name and buried your face in his neck. he chuckled and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.
heat pooled in your stomach in anticipation. you were so close you could practically taste it. satoru picked up the pace, reaching deeper, and deeper with each stroke. his thumb found your clit and he rubbed gentle circles to help you reach the edge.
or so you thought.
“aww, it’s okay sweets. once you share your agenda with me, i’ll let you come.” he cooed.
the election. your head was completely empty. you were too lost in the addictive way his cock stretched you out that you forgot about the entire reason you’d come over earlier. despite his reminder, your cunt fluttered around him once more as you approached your orgasm.
satoru suddenly pulled out of your aching cunt with a frown. you looked at him in shock. the look on your face made him he slip back inside of you again, but he still didn’t move.
“one of us is taking that office, whether this takes us all night.”
you scoffed. yes, you were frustrated, but nothing, not even one measly orgasm, could ever take your sights off of the goal.
beating satoru in everything possible winning the role you’ve dreamt of for years. you wrapped your legs around satoru’s waist and narrowed your eyes at him.
“all night it is then.”
the following week, the two of you watched in horror as some random was sworn into office instead of the two of you. that day, you agreed to devise a plan to take them down next election, one orgasm plan at a time.
thanks to the nonnie that requested this!!
ac: @ 3vangel1ne_ on tt
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Growing up religious and then doubting everything you’ve been taught is so hard because I know religion isn’t real I know religion is a tool of the patriarchy and I know it’s the root of all evil but it feels so wrong to know this
Why was I taught to worship divine beings who are male like yes there are female gods in Hinduism but not nearly as many as male or at least they aren’t worshiped as much.
Why is that? Women should be god we create life so why isn’t god a woman? Because religion was made to tear down women from that one thing we have over men in a patriarchal system. Men cannot create life so they strip it from us and give the title to some guy in the sky in the universe or whatever
I want to be agnostic because I can’t deny the power of a higher being maybe they’re loving maybe not but I won’t deny something I believe in
I believe in aspects of Hinduism but it doesn’t seem plausible in the long run same with every other religion. Hinduism was a way of life before maybe I’ll stick to that. Not praying or worshiping but still following the teachings to live a good life
I have the privilege of being able to leave religion without fear of major repercussions by the gods I used to worship but I wish others had the same freedom
if there’s one thing suguru geto excels at, is pampering his woman— among his numerous other qualities, of course. he does it like second nature, even during the most mundane of tasks. like making dinner, for example.
“can i get another?” you ask sweetly, bare foot gently bumping into his hip. you’re sitting on the kitchen counter, at a safe distance from the stove, watching your husband dutifully cook dinner. “so much for a sous-chef,” he teases. “weren’t you supposed to help me?”
suguru moves smoothly, stepping away from the pan and reaching for a small bruschetta he had prepared before getting to dinner, simply because he knows you like a little snack before your meals. he picks it up, holding his other palm underneath for extra safety.
“what do you mean? i am helping you!” you quip in mock offense. “i’m sitting here, sipping wine and looking pretty, while you cook and look absolutely smoking hot.”
you part your lips when he holds the bruschetta up, hand going right below your chin to catch any crumbs. “mh, you’re right. you are pretty,” he smiles, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. then his voice lowers, murmuring right against the shell of your ear. “you think i’m hot?”
a shiver sparks up your spine, and you almost choke on a cubed tomato. “asshole!” you kick him away mid-chewing, covering your mouth with your hand as you work the piece of bread. all he offers is a smug laugh, long fingers wrapping around your ankle. “glad i can still get you worked up after all these years,” he says, thumb brushing the side of your shin.
you wash down the mouthful with a sip of wine, and when you put down the glass, you grab the hem of his shirt. suguru doesn’t protest as you guide him between your thighs, bracketing his hips with them. “what about me,” you skim his lips with yours, teasing him with fruity aftertaste. “do i still get you worked up after all these years?”
his hand leaves your leg, only to rest on the back of your head, and that’s all the warning you get before he kisses you, hard and feverish and full of need. when he pulls back, you’re out of breath. “does that answer your question?”
“m-mhm,” you croak out, slightly dazed. then, you perk up your nose and sniff the air. “sugu, do you smell that too?”
“oh shit, dinner!”
┊┊a/n. sorry guys this is all i have i've been so busy with studying and work :(
⟡ ⌢ getting his baby's ears pierced somehow hurt satoru more than it hurt her.
he was apprehensive to begin with, but he let himself be swayed by his wife’s reassuring smile and her steady hand on his face, telling him — promising him — it would be over and done with in seconds and that she wouldn’t even be in much pain.
“i got my ears pierced as a baby,” you’d explained, rocking the topic of conversation back and forth on your chest at the time. “i don’t even remember it! she’ll be okay, honey.”
“she cries when i leave the room!” he had whined back, his hand gently rubbing up and down his daughter's back as the 6-month-old had begun to fall asleep on you, “how is she gonna be “okay” with a needle through her ears??” satoru seriously needed to learn how to say no, though, because you’d convinced him in the end.
bouncing the pudgy infant on his knee and making faces to keep her entertained, he looked around nervously, watching you talk to the piercer with a polite smile. he just sighed, still a little bitter he’d been so easily talked into letting this happen to his sweet baby girl.
“daddy’s sorry for letting mommy talk me into this,” he mumbled in dramatic defeat, like he’d failed her and didn’t deserve to live. his daughter was oblivious and too preoccupied trying to shove her fingers into her mouth to try and make sense of whatever he was saying, and all he got was a garbled “baah!” in return.
“okaaayy, pumpkin, are we ready?” you came back over cooing. her small body wriggled as satoru begrudgingly repositioned her in front of the young woman about to shove holes through his poor princess’s ears. making a point to ignore your husband’s glare, you helped hold her still. the young woman, also nervously avoiding your husband’s hole-dwelling stare, cleared her throat awkwardly and gave the 3-second countdown, holding the piercing gun to her tiny left ear before it clamped down with a sharp clack.
you and satoru held your breath and checked her over. it took a long moment, long enough to give you the false hope that maybe your baby was one of the ones that didn’t cry, but eventually, inevitably, her doughy cheeks began to puff up and redden, her nose scrunched and her big eyes spilled over with tears. then came that gut-wrenching wail.
“daddy’s sooorrryyy.” satoru immediately coddled her, looking ready to start crying himself. “ohh, daddy’s sorry, princess, i know, i know…” his lip jutted out in a sympathetic pout. “mean mommy for making you do this.” he swatted at your hand when you reached to comfort your baby, glaring through his own glossy eyes as he had to hold her still again so she could get her second one over and done with. he knew he had to let it happen, but the tears and the pouty lip felt like they could cleave his heart in two.
another sharp clack!, and her wailing turned into the screams of a banshee. satoru cuddled her closer onto his shoulder, as if he could just smother the crying away, and rubbed her back, 1.) so his daughter wouldn’t see him crying, because he WAS crying, and 2.) so he could attempt to take her mind off of what he could only assume was the worst pain she'd ever felt since birth. he quickly shooed the poor woman away from his daughter, his eyes visibly wet with tears. you couldn't resist a quiet, sympathetic laugh, but he ignored you.
“oh, i knowww, i know,” he sniffled, rocking the wailing infant back and forth. “‘m so sorry, baby girl, daddy’s sorryyy…” he didn't put his daughter down at all that night. he massaged her tiny ears whenever she started to cry, distracted her with toys and kisses.
“she’s literally never doing that again,” he told you later that night, watching her sleep on the monitor. he shook his head when you chuckled. “i’m serious, my heart can’t go through any more of that. she can get them pierced again when i’m dead.”
𐔌 ۪ ઈઉ ᩙ a/n:: i feel like those people who feed birds like when they sprinkle the seeds on the ground except i only feed you guys every 6 months or so lmao
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