#bf gojo

"hm."

You stare at the two lipstick swatches in front of you. Beside you, your boyfriend satoru watches with surprising focus, his arm stretched out patiently in front of you.

You are 20 minutes into hunting for your perfect MLBB lipstick shade and your boyfriend had as usual volunteered his wrists and time at your disposal. Satoru's wrists already look like a chess board of lipstick swatches.

"Which one should I get?"

gojo's the type of guy who always presses your face in his chest everytime he hugs you. without miss, every single time, he suffocates you subtly and you can hear his chest rumbling as he chuckles at you and kisses the top of your head.

gojo's the type of guy takes unflattering pictures of you when he catches you off guard. he has pictures of you mid sneeze, pictures of you sleeping with your mouth open and drool dribbling down your chin, unflattering angles. he has them all, all for himself to gawk at when you're not with him.

gojo's the type of guy who snatches a piece of your food everytime you go out to eat with him or if you order takeout with him. even if it's a home cooked meal, he always snatched something off your plate. justifying his actions by claiming that you're food could be poisoned and he's just looking out for you.

gojo's the type of guy who calls you all the cringy nicknames he knows. baby? babe? sweetheart? darling? forget all of those. he's calling you his pookie bear, schnookums, schmoopsie, all of those cringe unique ones just to annoy you

gojo's the type of guy who bite your nose at random times when you're alone. you could comfortably cuddling with him telling you about your day and he just decides to lean in and take a bite of your nose just because he can

gojo's the type of guy who laughs at you when something embarrassing happens to you. you fall down on the slippery stairs or floor, he's quick to laugh before helping you up. you stutter while talking to him, you're never living that down. he corrects you with the wrong pronunciation everytime you correct yourself.

gojo's the type of guy who offers you his sweets everytime he buys some. he wouldn't normally share his kikufuku with just anyone, but you're special, he wants yo share everything with you.

gojo's the type of guy who plays music on the speaker and pulls you up to dance with him. only in your pyjamas as you sway from the living to the kitchen and back with just his hand on your waist and his other holding your other hand and laughing.

gojo's the type of guy who watches all your favourite shows with you, even if they're corny and don't make any sense, he's there to watch all the episodes with you. it's the least he can do since you put up with his shit 24/7.

gojo's the type of guy who takes you out on fancy dates when he can. getting you a cute dress before all this, making sure they have you're favourite foods and drinks and spoiling you rotten. he's happy he finally has something to share his money with.

wc :: 1.8k 18+ ONLY (bf!fratjo x reader) NOTES: Semi-proofread, first time writing smut, check end for more notes! MUSIC REC: - anything by The Weeknd

♡ ₊˚‧ WARNINGS :: face riding :: mentions of sex:: oversensitivity :: bf!fratjo:: gf!reader:: mentions of drinking/partying :: cute Satoru :: teeny bit of fluff :: NSFW

“Satoru, get off’a me.” 

You glared down at your boyfriend as he snuggled his chin into your lap, huge hands loosely gripping your calves as his baby blues stared up at you puppy style. Your dorm room was in complete disarray except for your bed, made neatly with your extensive collection of fluffy blankets, dozens of polaroids of you and your white-haired menace pasted on the wall behind the headboard.

He pouted, blinking at you innocently. “But, babyyyyy I told you I didn’t do anything! She’s the one who came up to me at the party, not the other way around!  I said ‘ew’ and shooed her away! Ask Suguru!” He pressed a kiss onto your knee, round blue eyes never leaving yours. “I was literally wearing matching costumes with you, why would I ever get with that troll when I have a goddess in my possession?”

You huffed, still glaring down at him. You knew he was being truthful, you just liked to see him get all pouty for you sometimes. As president of Sigma Chi and captain of the UTokyo basketball team, Satoru Gojo had been all about the rager life, drinking all day, partying all night, and somehow still having stellar grades as an astrophysics major (his level of genius angered you to the bone), but that was until he first saw you across the kitchen at a white lies themed party, with your short denim skirt and a fitted cami stretched over your abs, the words “I love frat boys” written across your tits in infuriating, irresistible letters. 

From then, he knew he had to prove you wrong… or right, really.

So when you had walked into the kitchen, bunny-cop costume on, and seen your boyfriend's police vest being fisted at the chest by a ginger wearing something small enough to classify as a bikini? You turned around and stormed off, more than a little pissed. He had chased after you, fox-ear headband falling off his head, mouth rambling words into an explanation. Then, he had called you all night after you had refused to reply a single word.  And now, the next morning, he was kneeled in front of you after sneaking through your dorm room window, his head resting on your legs as he looked at you like a lovesick puppy who had just broken his favorite toy. 

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. It was my bad, really. I’ll put the blindfold back on, yeah?” He pressed another kiss to the same spot on your knee. “Don’t want to look at any girl but mine. Don’t care if they live or die. Only you. Only ever you.” 

You let out a laugh despite yourself at the memory of the blindfold he had worn to the fraternity pool party, wandering the pool deck trying his best not to fall into the water, and only being willing to take the cloth off his face once you had pulled him into his bedroom alone. He had kissed your cheek, hands immediately moving to trail down your waist and grope at your ass under your swim bottoms. “Only need to see m’girl in a bikini. Only view I need.” he had whispered. Contrary to his past, the man was loyal. Incredibly so. 

He grinned at your giggle, dimple piercing his cheek. “Does this mean you accept my apology?~” 

Your face immediately snapped back into a glare, though your lip twitched from the difficulty of keeping it straight, and you shook your head silently. He groaned. “Fine. I’ll apologize one more time.”

You pursed your lips. His eyebrow quirked. 

“Twice?”

You let out a “hmph.” and turned your head to the side, causing a small exhale of amusement from him before he kissed your leg again, a little higher than your knee this time. “‘Kay then, I guess three times a charm,” he said, hands roving up your legs to settle on the outside of your thighs, thumbs outlining hearts into your plush skin. 

Your head snapped back toward him as you felt a finger start to pull down your shorts. “Satoru–”

His free hand pushed the inside of your thigh out to open yourself to him more. You sputtered and your gaze shifted to look at his face, glowing cerulean eyes smirking at you as his fingers pulled your once worn shorts down past your feet, your lacy panties practically waving at him and saying ‘come here!’ with the dark spot that had formed on the thin fabric. 

Your eyebrow hiked up. “And just what are you doing?” though the knot in your stomach didn’t match your expression

His eyes lit up at your voice, clearly motivated now that his actions had gotten you to speak to him for real again. “J’s tryin’ to say sorry baby,” He kissed your inner thigh as he tugged your panties down, exhaling when you sat bare in front of him. You watched him, curious as he smiled at you all cute before his gaze drifted down in between your legs. He tucked his face closer, slowly sticking his nose to your core and inhaling, causing you to yelp and softly smack the top of his head. “Toru–!”

The lecture died in your throat as he licked a slow, long stripe over the moist skin, not even giving you time to react to that before he dove into you, stubby fingernails digging into your thighs as he pulled you farther apart and lapped at you relentlessly.

You gasped, fingers digging into his white locks as he continued to devour through your folds, tongue circling your clit before he slipped it into his mouth and sucked, tearing a cry from your throat, thighs shaking and trying to clamp down around his head. He pushed them apart again, lips detaching from you as he looked up at you through pussy-drunk, heavy lidded eyes, mouth parted open and panting at you. Drops of your arousal slivered down his chin, a string of saliva connecting his lower lip to your folds. You almost whined at the loss of friction, staring down at him with blown out pupils, words refusing to form but expression obviously begging him to continue. Your fingers bunched in his hair and you swallowed. “S’toru–” You choke out. 

He smiled up at you, that toothy angel grin that you’d come to love with everything in you. He moved up suddenly and wrapped his large hands around your waist, enveloping it as he pulled you up and sat you farther back on your bed. You let out a small sound of surprise and watched him as he laid on his back in front of you, head tilting back to look at you upside down. You were about to yell at him for blueballing you for this nonsensical clown act but were silenced when his iron grip returned to your waist, arms stretching back to haul you up and onto his face. 

You practically screeched. “Satoru, I’ll crush you!--”

He snarled, pressing a light bite to the curve of your ass before he moved you back slightly, centering your leaking pussy over his mouth once more. “Crush me, then.. Couldn’t think of a better way to die.” He stuck out his tongue, gliding it over your folds again and making you shiver. “Much better this way.. Get to have you all over my face,” he rasped against you before diving back in, nose pressing against your backside as he lapped at your entrance, swallowing you like a man droughted. Each drink was accentuated with a quiet, satisfied grunt from the back of his throat. 

He tightened his grip on your thighs, eating like he had been depraved in the twelve hours you had been leaving him on heard, waiting for this ever so patiently, like a man whose sole responsibility was making sure you were ruined for any others– not that there would be any others in the first place. Satoru was moaning like he was the one getting head; low, heavy vibrations fluttering against your clit as he sucked with filthy persistence, making your back arch so hard your vision spotted white. 

“’m sorry, baby..” he mumbled incoherently into you. “So, so sorry… showing my pretty girl she’s the only one for me, yeah?” He whispered, completely entranced by the taste of you as he kept licking. “S’ beautiful.. s’perfect…” The praise made your body jolt like he slapped you, a soft whine ripping out of your mouth. 

You could almost feel his cocky ass grin against your cunt, choosing to ignore it when you realized your lewd noises had sent him into a frenzy, mouth crashing back into you sloppily– tongue working like he wanted to drag even louder groans out of your lips.

Your thoughts shattered and centered around one thing: the rapidly building swell in your core, his lips moving with a perfect, disgusting pressure that made you have to hold yourself back from screaming out his name. His hands framed your inner thighs, holding them open as he devoured you, your ass plush over his eyelids. There was no rhythm to his attack, it was random and tangled, just a man completely out of his mind.

“Sa–toru–” Your voice broke as your orgasm slammed into you with a force that had you lightheaded and panting, searching for something, anything to grip onto and settling on his shoulders, your pretty fingernails digging into the fabric of his dusty digimon T-shirt and still feeling the impossible amount of muscle underneath. 

He didn’t stop, riding out every individual pulse of your pussy with his tongue, slurping and swallowing anything you would give to him, every drop being sucked into his lips, a resonant sigh of contentment shaking against you. He only pulled you off of him when you started quivering due to the excessive stimulation, setting you back behind him before flipping onto his stomach to grin at your breathless expression.

Before you could speak, he moved closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he kissed the drops off from your inner thigh, slipping two fingers into your oversensitive cunt without warning and tearing a cry from your throat. “Satoru!”

He glanced back up at you with that same innocent expression that you were definitely going to suckerpunch him for later. “What, baby? That was one.” 

He curled his fingers inside you and you groaned. His mouth licked a slow stripe from your crotch up to your bellybutton, crystalline eyes hyperfocused on your face as he shifted his index and middle, feeling your spongy walls clench him as he rubbed the building tension back into your stomach. 

“Still got two more apologies to go.”

You loved Gojo’s perfectly sculpted body, his firm biceps will never fail to make you feel tingly inside.

You felt practically blessed to have a man who looked like he was carved out of marble by the gods themselves.

What was driving you crazy, though, was his schedule.

Lately, your feed had been taken over by that adorable tiktok trend where girls used their boyfriend’s massive biceps as a plate, eating something right off their arms.

You wanted so badly to try it with him, but Gojo was always out on missions, constantly running around. Even when he finally made it home, he looked so drained that you couldn’t bring yourself to bother him with a childish video you found in tiktok.

It devastated you, but you refused to be a burden while he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Except Gojo noticed.

He always knew when something was weighing on you.

You were lying on your back in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone just to tire your eyes out enough to sleep, when the bed dipped beside you.

Gojo laid down right beside you, pulling you against his chest with his long, solid arms wrapped around your waist until there wasn’t a single millimeter of space left between you.

“Hey, baby... you good?” he murmured, leaning in until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Tell me, please. I can tell something’s bothering you.”

You pouted, unable to resist the soft warmth of his voice.

“I just...”

“Mhm..”

“Well...”

you hesitated for a bit.

“I really wanna do this tiktok trend with you, and…”

A soft snicker broke through the quiet of the bedroom.

“Hey! Stop laughing, this is serious!” you huffed, turning around to glare at him.

Gojo looked down at you with pure adoration, eyes crinkling at the corners as he forced a serious face. “Right, right— Ahem.. veryy serious.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat up, and you pulled up the saved video to show him. He leaned in, taking in the clip before looking up at you with a broad, playful grin.

“So this is what had my girl pouting all day? Hm.. simple enough.”

“Let's get some sushi” he whispered gently, his arms still held tight around your waist as his thumb gave your hip a soft, comforting brush.

Once the food arrived, Gojo set up your phone on the bedside table, perfectly angled. He rested his forearm flat on the bed, flexing his massive bicep.

You carefully placed a piece of sushi right on top of his skin, holding the tiny bowl of soy sauce ready in your hand.

“Alright, lemme know when to start, ‘kay?” he teased, hovering his hand near the record button.

“Okay, go!”

The audio started playing, and you stubbornly drenched the sushi in soy sauce before popping the whole thing into your mouth. Soy sauce dripped down the side of his arm, and refusing to let it ruin the shot (or go to waste) you leaned down and licked the dark trail clean off his bare skin.

Gojo’s breath hitched, his length slightly twitching against his pants as he watched your tongue trace the cut of his muscle. He’d be a liar if he said it didn’t instantly turn him on.

Before the camera timer could even run out, his heavy, warm hand shot out, cupping the back of your neck firmly. In a single, fluid pull, he hauled you close and dragged your lips to his.

His mouth claimed yours, his tongue sliding deep past your parted lips to lap up the lingering taste of soy sauce off yours.

The video finished recording and looped endlessly in the background, but the glow of the screen completely faded from your mind as the sheer heat of his body consumed you. With a low hum, his free hand slowly slid down your stomach, his fingers trailing agonizingly close to your core, teasing the warm fabric of your clothes without quite touching where you needed him most.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were gasping for air.

With his free hand, Gojo reached over your phone and turned it off, plunging the room into dark, thick silence. The only sound left was the frantic, uneven rhythm of your breathing as you stared up at him, completely breathless.

His thumb pressed lightly against your pulse point at the side of your neck, feeling your heart hammering wildly against his skin.

“We’ll post the video tomorrow,” he purred, “I missed your touch… just focus on me for now m’kay?”

Art belongs to yamada_souko on twt!

Hold still,” Satoru says, voice low enough to make your breath hitch.

“I am still,” you mutter, even though your pulse is anything but.

He hums in mock disapproval, the sound deep and drawn-out. “No, you’re trembling. I can feel it.”

Your cheeks warm. “That’s your fault. You’re too close.”

“Oh? And whose idea was it to do this on the bed?” His grin is audible — you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s wearing that smug, lopsided smile.

You glare, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Because the light’s better here.”

“Mhm. Sure,” he says, fingers brushing your skin in slow, deliberate motions. “You know, you could at least pretend to enjoy this.”

You scoff. “You’re enjoying it way too much.”

He chuckles, and it’s that dangerous kind — the one that curls at the edge of your spine and makes you want to look away and stare at him all at once. “Can you blame me? You’re just… perfect like this. Quiet for once. Focused. Letting me handle it.”

Your heart’s hammering now, and you can’t tell if it’s from nerves or how softly he’s touching you. His thumb drags lightly, his breath brushes your knuckles, and you swear he’s doing it on purpose.

Then he leans back with a satisfied sigh. “There,” he says, voice suddenly bright again. “Don’t move or it’ll smudge.”

You struggle to stay still. With your legs stretched to aching, your flat feet crushing his bare chest and with his thick cock splitting your pussy. It's hard not to want to subtly move at least to release a little tension, when Satoru places the phone in between the two of you and fixes the camera angle talking to himself, complaining about the dim lighting in the room with the curtains closed.

He looks so focused, tongue carving his upper lip back and forth as if performing a task of utmost importance and you find it inevitable not to squeeze around him a little, impatiently.

“Babe, just take the picture,” you tell him desperately at this point, your arousal dripping down your ass cheeks onto the mattress, aching with need to start getting fucked.

Satoru, however, takes his time. He grunts, gasps and moans to himself as he pulls out of you almost completely where only the swollen head is left in your visibly fluttering hole, then proceeds to make a short video where he simulates fucking you; he thrusts his hips in a deep rotation that has your toes curling up and your breath coming in gasps into your lungs.

He plays his thumb over your clit back and forth, talking dirty to the camera before ending the video and tossing the phone to the side of the mattress which bounces gently.

“Okay, I'm ready now,” satoru chuckles releasing tension, taking one of your feet off his chest to bring it to the level of his mouth and bending his back leaves a fleeting, love-filled kiss on your ankle. “I just wanted to have something to remember you by while I'm gone.” Something more than the dozens of pictures he has in his gallery of you, you want to remind him.

Satoru begins to fuck you slow and deep, with the help of his free hand massaging your clit and spreading your juices all over your outer lips.

“I know,” your back arches seeking more of the pleasure. “It'll only be two weeks.”

“That's a long fucking time.” He thrusts his hips in such a way that your skins meet in a loud clap.

For someone whose love language was touch, you knew where that concern was coming from so this time you nod your head. Satoru settles your feet on top of his shoulders and pushes forward bending your body into a new posture, shaping you so that his cock now reaches deeper places inside you.

“Do you feel it twitching?”

“Uh huh,” you reply with your mouth open, gasping his breath sneaking inside.

“I'm going to cum soon, sorry. Recording you made me so hard.”

“We should do it more often then,” you tease, with a hint of seriousness sinking your fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck, tangling in the white strands to manage to pull his hair and bring him closer to your mouth. Satoru groans.

“I'm going to miss you so much,” he gasps sucking on your lower lip, his teeth digging into the soft flesh to then muffle the stinging pain with his warm tongue licking it.

“I know. Me too.”

Satoru licks your mouth half open, gasps the moment your lips meet and grunts after you clench tightly around him letting him know you were going to reach your orgasm soon.

“I'm gonna fucking cum in you,” he murmurs in warning, sweaty forehead resting on yours.

Satoru is the kind of man who walks straight out of a girl’s fantasy—and he knows it. His charm is effortless, magnetic, borderline unfair.

Oh boy. The fluffy white hair that falls perfectly over his crystal-blue eyes, the flawless symmetry of his face, the sharp nose, the defined jawline, the tall, lean-muscular frame, and those biceps… everything about him screams crafted by the heavens. Honestly, the earth probably tilted the moment he was born.

He’s annoyingly extra sometimes, but you don’t mind—especially because he pulls the most ridiculous, completely unserious stunts at the most random times.

Since you started dating, you’ve realized he’s a menace, that ‘silly little man’ just makes you BOIL is frustration. He brings silly and ridiculously expensive gifts, embarrass you in public, god knows what else.

Your relationship isn’t intense or intimate—it’s chill, casual, and relaxing. (Not kidding—you’ve never done anything romantic with him💔)

You see him as someone fun to hang out with, someone to spill all the office gossip to, go on weekend mall dates with, and someone you can trust.

You don’t know much about his work, except that he’s ridiculously rich and a “Jujutsu Sorcerer.” You found about that when he was caught fighting one. At first, the idea that he protects people from imaginary monsters sounded insane, you couldn’t see them so it seemed like he’s having a battle with air—But with the increasing paranormal events happening in Japan, you’ve started to… kind of believe it.

You don’t plan to take the relationship too seriously—your feelings haven’t fully developed yet. You find him ridiculously handsome, you turn into a blushing mess when he flirts with you, but something still feels… missing. That said, you have no desire to walk away. Meanwhile, Satoru? He’s just going with the flow :P