#septembercalls

officer!gojo x reader

You’ve read the countless stories—messing with a police officer never ends well. Most couples break apart; some divorce within months. Still, that didn’t stop you from provoking Satoru, Chief of Police, the highest rank you could cross in the force these days, aswell as nepotism considering how young he was.

The first night you crossed paths with him was your friend’s twenty-first birthday—free drinks, cake, the kind of night no one wanted to miss. He was at the bar with his own circle, half-drunk, voices rising over the music as they laughed about things only privilege could afford. Then he saw you. The alcohol in his veins mixed with his natural arrogance, and suddenly he felt untouchable. In that moment, you weren’t just another face in the crowd, you were the final prize, the goal he couldn’t leave without claiming.

He walked towards you when you were alone getting another round for your table when he came over, maybe a little too fast and clumsily, because as soon as he was within a few feet of you he accidentally let his own drink fall from his hands, the cup immediately fell onto your new dress, the cold liquor soaking into your clothes almost immediately

"what the hell's your problem?" ouch, so much for his first impression

"can't get too mad at me, sweetheart" he murmured drunkenly, as he flicked out his badge, arrogance slickened within his words, never mind your own friends being somehow swooned over by his group of friends so no one coming to defend you anyhow.

"fuck you" you spat at him before you start to turn around to head back to your table, mood for the rest of night officially ruined and now wanting to go home.

He caught you back with words, "let me take you back to my place, and i can help you get out of those clothes, hm? I'll even pay you back for whatever the dress was and double it" His voice carried that desperate edge, arrogance fraying at the seams. You paused for the time he tried convincing you, torn between tipsy want and petty spite.

That’s what you were supposed to do at least, just go get another shirt to cover up and leave but, against all odds, you were laying in his bed and he was on top of you . His hands, impossibly gentle, traced the line of your body, learning the language of your shape. They skimmed the soft curve of your hip, the dip of your waist. Then, his palm cupped the weight of your breast, his thumb brushing over the fabric, and every coherent thought you’d ever had simply dissolved as he explored you.

He undressed you slowly, like unwrapping a sacred offering meant for the gods. The fabric of your dress whispered against your skin as he gathered it at your hips, his movements deliberate, reverent. With a final, fluid pull, it was gone, swept over your head and discarded onto the floor. The cool air of the room was a sudden shock against your bare skin.

His pupils blew wide, eclipsing the color of his irises with a primal, consuming darkness. The sight of you braless, your breasts exposed to the cold air hit him with the force of a physical blow. A low sound, half-groan, half-sigh, rumbled in his chest. It wasn't without question that within the moment, he thought you were the most perfect woman ever to lay in his bed like this, hair sprawled out and you looking straight up at him, lips parted and eyebrows slightly furrowed, sharp breaths coming from you as he groped a part of your body you were specifically sensitive in

He leaned down, his gaze locked on yours, and the heat of his breath ghosted over a pebbled nipple just before his mouth closed around it as your back arched off the bed, a silent plea for more. He took his time, lavishing attention on one, then the other, until you were writhing beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. 

His other hand began a slow descent down your stomach, tracing the line of your panties. When the lace finally cleared your ankles, he didn't just drop them. With a flick of his head, he sent them flying across the room, where they landed immediately forgotten on the floor.

"I'm not gonna nut inside you i promise" he winked looking down at you, with a need that was already overriding his own good intention , his boxers were off a long time ago, he started off slowly, coming in inch by inch, you whimpered as you gripped his arms incredibly tightly, nails digging into his biceps leaving little reddened crescent shaped dips

"oh my god! satoru, pl..please wait" you cried out, it wasn't like he was going extensively fast, at least he thought he wasn't, your tight clit taking in his pretty pink tip as precum leaked out into you

Then suddenly he slammed his hips into yours, immediately your back arched in response as you let out a quiet yelp. Followed by a slow, teasing circle that made the intensity build to an unbearable peak. One hand left your side and pressed flat against your lower stomach, he grinds into you teasingly, one hand on your tummy wanting to feel the bulge as he presses down on it, tears forming in the crinkles of your eyes.

"That's my girl," he whispered, his praise a low rumble.

"I've got you sweetheart" His movements became relentless, a steady rhythm that left you no room to think, only to feel. And then you did. You shattered, a wave of release so powerful it whited out your vision, your back bowing as a cry was muffled by his hand. He didn't stop, guiding you through it until you were spent, limp and trembling beneath him.

and it felt so fucking good too

Only then did he still his hips, staying deep inside you, his weight a comforting anchor. He lifted his hand just enough for you to drag in a wet, shaky breath.

He kissed the corner of your mouth, a touch that was surprisingly soft. "You're not going anywhere," he murmured, a clear statement of fact. He rolled his hips once, a slow, deep thrust that made you feel every inch of him. "Not until I say so."

popular girl x nerdjo part_one/3 #1 — oral2satoru ; praise&reassurance bleh ^_^,, haven’t looked over yet so please mercy on me for any mistakes // nsfw

Fucking Satoru wasn’t just good—it was obscene how perfect it felt. Good doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface,, it’s heaven and hell all at once, bouncing on his dick for hours with no one around to stop you, your body clinging to him like it was made to take every inch, over and over, until your wrecked and begging for more. Satoru may be a loser in every other aspect, but in bed, he’s pure bliss. Every thrust drives straight through you, making your nails dig into his back and your hips ride harder, moans, and the filthy, delicious ache of being stuffed so completely by him that you forget how to even think, only knowing how good it feels to be enveloped around his pulsing dick inside of you.

It was supposed to be just a simple tutoring session. But, well… organic chemistry had never exactly been your strong suit. So it wasn’t much of a shock when, a few weeks before the first quarter ended, you found yourself in the dean’s office, basically being begged to get your act together—or risk being kicked out of university. Leaving wasn’t even an option; what would everyone say when they find out you’d been expelled?

That’s when they sent Satoru to help you. White, messy hair that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, bright blue eyes framed by long, thick lashes… he was somehow intimidating and adorable all at once, though you would rather be caught dead than admit that to anybody, and while you’d assumed the baggy clothes hid a skinny, lanky frame,, well that’s what you expected at least, you would get peeks that would disagree with what you convinced yourself he would be. You led him to your dorm complaining and that entire time he stayed silent, overthinking everything he wanted to say but then it’d be too long between what you said so he’d just end up keeping quiet not wanting to embarrass himself in any way cursing at himself in his head for not being able to talk to you, tightly gripping his backpack straps.

You used your key to unlock your dorm and walked in with him, pointing to your side of the dorm as you sat down on your bed. He re-adjusted his glasses nervously, fingers tapping against the big textbook he was holding. “Uh… okay, so, nucleophiles—” he began, voice soft and shaky at once , “they donate electrons to electrophiles, which are… uh… electron-loving molecules..”,, You leaned closer, pretending to try to focus but really just staring at him. “Mmm… okay, that’s fine and all, but like… can you show me? Maybe… closer?”

He cleared his throat, he leaned over your bed to grab his a random notebook from his backpack to show you a visual example, his baggy hoodie rode up a little, and your eyes widened. Beneath all that fabric was… well, not what you expected. As he leaned over, his hoodie rode up just enough to reveal the lean V-shape of his lower abs tapering down into his hips, and the subtle curve of strong, toned obliques and that sharp V-line. It was the kind of muscular definition that wasn’t overdone—just enough to hint at the strength hidden beneath his oversized hoodie, making it impossible not to notice. You definitely weren’t expecting that, like at all. You convinced yourself in your head that he, of all people, did not have any type of definition on him whatsoever.

And goodness… it was a slippery slope from there. Two college students alone in the same room, the quiet punctuated only by soft sighs and the nervous hum of anticipation. Your roommate wouldn’t be back for the week, and the thought of having the space entirely to yourselves made the air between you almost electric.

Before you knew it, you were leaning closer, your hands brushing his, lingering longer than necessary. Satoru was shaking, nervous and excited all at once. You bit your lip softly, a shiver running down his spine as you let your fingers trace the back of his hand, careful but deliberate. “Have you… ever felt this close to someone like this?” you murmured, your voice low and teasing, yet gentle.

Satoru’s eyes widened, cheeks coloring in a way that made your heart flutter. He swallowed, glancing anywhere but at you, his calm exterior completely stripped away. “I… no,” he admitted, voice almost too quiet to hear, “I haven’t.”

A slow smile curved on your lips, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand in a reassuring, intimate gesture. “then why don’t I be your tutor, just this once mkay?” you whispered. The words felt heavy, soft, and electric all at once.

Satoru’s eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you. His hand hesitated, then slowly, almost reluctantly, found yours. The warmth of his skin against yours sent a thrill up your arm, and a soft laugh escaped your lips, part teasing, part pure delight. “i.. wa— okay..” he replied, a shiver of vulnerability undertones within his words.

You softly sunk down to your rug on the floor, getting on your knees and spreading Satorus’ thighs slowly, “you’re gonna do my final paper for me, right?” you winked and smiled at him as you pulled down his sweatpants, his face reddening as soon as you made the remark,, your hands slowly and agonizingly slow inched towards the elastic band of his briefs. You pulled it down to reveal his lengthy and girthy dick, already hard and leaking an unrestrained amounts of pre-cum. He whimpered as the cool air waved around it, your right hand softly wrapped around his dick as it twitched slightly in your hands, your left hand rested atop his inner thigh.

“i’ll take care of you, okay baby?”, he nodded a bit hesitantly, holding onto your reassurance like a lifeline. You gave him a little kiss to his tip before engulfing your warm wet mouth around it. He let out a soft “mffphhh”, his dick now covered in slick saliva as you deepened yourself to go further down to where his balls met, gagging out a bit just due to how big he was.He gasped softly, every nerve of his aligned with your touch. You began to bob your head up and down torturously drawn-out, his hands clutched into your hair, almost like an anchor as he was getting lost in the moment. He couldn’t stop the low cries and the whimpers that exited out of his mouth as your pace on him switched between a steady constant to achingly unhurried. “f-fuck.. hah— wait ohmygo—”, his vision becoming blurry eyed, tears brimming at the outer corner of his eyes, his blue eyes trembling as he watched you indulge on him.

His dick began to twitch uncontrollably, his pleas becoming more desperate as he had one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and one gripping your sheets, “you’re doing so well baby”, you reassured him. For double stimulation, the hand you were using to rest atop his thigh was now massaging his seemingly heavy balls. He let out a sharp gasp as pure ecstasy washed over him. “fuck! ngh.. you’re so good to m-me!”. Poor baby couldn’t hold it inside anymore, “w..wait please i’m gonna cu—”

“it’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay..” you cooed to him, your nose was a bit snotty and tears running down your cheeks as you came up from his dick, giving it a nice pop!

He bit his lip, almost splitting it just due to pure bliss he had gotten from you. His dick convulsed one last time before he came all over your neck and face, he let out a small whimpers as he shuddered from his release.

“ i-i’m sorry for the mess..”, he sheepishlyapologized, readjusting his glasses.

“my paper better be done by tuesday, i cannot let people find out i’m fucking you

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Nanami Kento; fluff, breaking down his walls slowly.

— it’s about someone truly noticing you. Your quirks, your struggles, the little details you think no one pays attention to. It’s when someone doesn’t just look at you but actually sees you, understands you, and accepts you as you are. —

At first, Nanami was a wall. Not the kind that felt cruel or dismissive, but the kind built from years of silence, practicality, and the unspoken weight of his own expectations. He was polite, composed, and steady, but there was always a distance. His eyes, though warm, rarely lingered long enough for you to feel like they were truly looking at you.

You noticed it from the beginning, how he never volunteered much about himself. How conversations turned to you instead, like he was deflecting the spotlight. He wasn’t cold, not exactly. Just… unreachable. It was like you were almost talking to a ghost, you knew nothing about him, his past, his future, his present. He was just floating alongside with you

yet still, you stayed..?

Friends questioned you, they told you this wasn’t gonna end up anywhere, that you should give up and find another emotionally available man, it’d be better for your emotions and your baggage. You ended up always defending him even after complaining and telling them to “give him time”,

Because there were moments, rare and fleeting, when the wall cracked. The way his lips softened when you laughed a little too loud in public. The way his hand would brush yours but stop short of holding it, as if the desire was there but his permission wasn’t. The way he looked at you, only when he thought you weren’t paying attention, like he wanted to memorize you. Analyze every feature down to the beauty marks, the freckles, and the scars.

It wasn’t easy. Nanami didn’t trust easily, not with his time, not with his heart. There were nights where your patience frayed, where you wondered if you were chasing a man who would never let himself be caught. But every time, something small pulled you back, the quiet gratitude in his voice when you cooked for him, the way he listened to you with an attentiveness that made the rest of the world fall away.

And slowly, slowly and gradually the walls began to crumble.

One evening, after a long day, he came to you dark circles present, tie loosened, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. He sat beside you without a word, shoulders slumping, and for the first time, he didn’t hold himself together. He let himself lean. His head found your shoulder, and when you instinctively laced your fingers with his, and rested your hand atop his head, and this time he didn’t pull away.

“I don’t…” His voice was rough, low. “I don’t know how to do this, i’ve never done this before, i’m sorry”

You turned to him, heart tightening. “it’s okay my love, it’s okay”,

His breath caught at that. Because no one had ever asked for him. No faux personality, not the facade, not the strength, not the provider he had been molded into. Just him.

And for the first time, he let you. He let you see the fear, the tenderness, the quiet longing he had buried under years of restraint. He let himself be loved.

Nanami wasn’t easy to reach, but once you did, once the walls fell away, he was steady in a way that made you feel safe. He loved you not with grand gestures, but with consistency. With the hand that always found yours when you walked together. With the way he brewed your coffee exactly how you liked it. With the way he looked at you — really looked at you now, as though seeing you was a privilege he’d never take for granted.

Because to be loved, he realized, is to be seen, and with you, Nanami Kento had finally stopped hiding.

a heart beat, his heart beat, it seemed to still for a second hearing that voice, your voice.

It hurt, oh how it absolutely hurt hearing you say his name again. Hearing how excited you were to see him on the recording. It had been a snowy day, the snow crunching under both of your feet as he walked towards you and you jogged towards him, hair just slightly tousled with white flakes that seemed to have that little shine to them. That day you were wearing his hoodie and sweatpants he had bought you some time ago, long forgotten when.

He missed you, oh so fucking much. His guilt ate him alive everyday, he opened up the camera everytime to load up the videos to see you and your face, the face he once got to see everyday now almost like a distant memory. His eyes glistened tears threatening to fall as he watched your smile and softly say to him,

——————————————————————————————————————————

still here, fucking yourself over for fushiguro? seriously.. get a grip of yourself that man can barely keep a job! it don’t matter if he got good dick.

toji x fem reader (age-gap)

Why were you even attracted to Mr. Fushiguro? Maybe it was the maturity difference. Maybe it was that he was easily the cockiest man you’d ever met—ego so big it suffocated every room he walked into. But around him, you felt like something fragile, something worth holding onto. He made you feel protected, spoiled, treated like a doll meant to be broken. His huge, gruff hands pulling, tugging, holding against your soft frame. The staggering size difference only turned him on more. The age gap didn’t matter either; if anything, he flaunted it. He even joked about how easy it was to “take over your mind and crawl into corners of your life without you realizing it.”

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise to you, or him, or even anyone else, when the very next night, after you swore you’d cut him off, he had you pinned to the bed. His broad shoulders between your legs, forcing them open as he yanked your soaked panties down and tossed them somewhere across the room without care.

“Gonna try cuttin’ me off again, sweetheart?” he smirked, voice thick and mocking. He knew exactly what he was, knew exactly the kind of power he had over you. He also knew that when it came to him, you had no restraint. No pride. That’s why he was always allowed back inside you.

You whimpered out a meek, shaky “n…no, ’m sorry,” just as his swollen tip tapped at your entrance. He wasn’t even trying to help you relax—he’d cranked the AC down to 69° just to watch your nipples pebble under your tank top, shivers racing across your body as you clawed at his skin. His pleasure first, always.

“Goddamn…” he groaned, eyes glued to your trembling body. “How many times is this tight little pussy gonna swallow me down ‘til I can make a mold of myself with you?”

He didn’t give you any warning. He never did. He just shoved himself inside with one brutal stroke.

You screamed, body arching off the mattress as pain and pleasure tangled in your chest. “F-fuck you, T—ngh—Toji!” You hated how he never gave you time to adjust, how his girth stretched you wide open in an instant. It wasn’t fair. But after a few lazy thrusts to get you used to him, the ache melted into that all-too-familiar heaven.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’… mffph, so fuckin’ good, baby,” he rasped, already breathless. His hips started to work in steady snaps, his thick hands gripping your waist like he’d never let go. He bottomed out within minutes, groaning as your walls fluttered tight around him. Every clench made his cock twitch inside you.

“Can you believe you tried deprivin’ me of this?” he hissed, forehead dropping against yours. “Shit… baby, how could my sweet girl do that to me?”

Your back hit the mattress fully as his body loomed over yours, crushing you under his weight. He kissed your cheeks, your jaw, down your neck, whispering filthy praises between bites of your skin.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” he murmured against your ear. “Keep lettin’ me in like this… my fuckin’ sweetheart.”

His words wrapped around you as tight as his cock did. You whined, nails dragging down his back, thighs trembling.

“Even after blockin’ me. Even after actin’ like you didn’t want me,” he chuckled darkly, picking up his pace until the bed creaked. “At the end of the day, I’m still balls-deep inside you. My desperate little girl.”

Lewd, messy noises filled the room—the wet squelch of your cunt sucking him in, the slap of his heavy balls against your skin, the sharp smack of his hips driving forward. You could barely breathe as you watched him disappear into you over and over, his cock stretching you so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

Your moans grew louder, messier, breaking into cries. The rhythm of his thrusts bullied your cervix, pushed every nerve raw. “Mffphh—Toji! Please! ’M about to—Toji!”

He didn’t slow. He never did. His hips slammed into you, over and over, his groans mixing with yours.

“Fuck it, sweet girl,” he growled, voice hoarse, lips dragging over your damp skin. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna fill this greedy cunt and watch it leak all over.”

His voice alone nearly tipped you over the edge. And then it hit—your body clenching hard around him, walls fluttering desperately as your vision blurred with white heat.

“Fuck—take it, baby. Take all of it.”

He groaned loud as his cock twitched deep inside, spilling hot ropes of cum that seemed endless. The warmth spread through you, that intoxicating tingle that always came with him. He held himself there, buried to the hilt as you clenched and milked every drop from him.

When it was too much, he pulled out slow—agonizingly slow—and stroked himself until more thick streams painted your stomach. His cum dripped down your thighs, smeared across your belly, your sheets ruined beneath you.

Toji leaned back on his haunches, watching his mess on you with that cocky grin. He dragged his thumb through the white streaks on your stomach before shoving it past your lips.

“you look so pretty like this… so pretty full of me”

song inspired

you were constantly up to no good, and after-all he knew you best before you even knew yourself.

The moment you push the apartment door open, he already knows you’re up to something. He’s sitting on the couch, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, a cigarette burning low between his fingers. His eyes narrow immediately when he sees the way you’re cradling something in your hoodie like a smuggler.

“…What is that?” Shiu’s voice is calm, deep, but you can hear the suspicion in it.

“It’s—” You bite your lip, rocking on your heels like a guilty kid. “It’s nothing.”

He raises an eyebrow, tapping ash into the tray. “Nothing doesn’t meow.”, as if right on cue, a soft mrrp sound escapes from your bundled arms. You wince, then rush forward, dropping to your knees in front of him and peeling your hoodie open to reveal a tiny, scrappy kitten blinking up at the both of you.

“Before you say anything—” you start quickly, “—he was all alone in a box outside the store and it was raining, and I couldn’t just leave him there, Shiu, look at his little face,”

Shiu stares down at the small ball of fur, then back up at you. His expression doesn’t change, but his silence says it all. You’re in trouble.

“Don’t give me that look,” you pout, shifting the kitten closer to him so it stretches a paw in his direction. “He likes you already.”

“I don’t like cats.” He exhales smoke slow, like it’s final.

“You don’t like people either but you keep me around,” you shoot back, eyes wide and pleading. That earns you the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth, his version of amusement. He doesn’t answer right away, just leans back against the couch and studies you. His gaze lingers on the way you’re cradling the kitten against your chest, hair messy from the drizzle outside, eyes sparkling as you look at him like he holds the whole world in his answer.

You’re ridiculous. Silly. Everything he shouldn’t put up with. And yet here you are, in his living room, trying to convince him that this stray deserves a home. “Shiu…” you whisper softer this time, eyes dropping as you nuzzle the kitten’s head. “I’ll take care of him, I promise. You won’t even have to do anything. Please?”

He sighs through his nose, setting the cigarette out. His gaze hasn’t left you once, and he hates how your voice makes something warm and sharp twist in his chest.

“You already drive me insane,” he mutters, low, “and now you want to bring something else into this house to make a mess?”, you nod eagerly. “Exactly.”

He stares. You stare back, doe-eyed. The kitten squeaks.

Finally, Shiu drags a hand down his face, then reaches forward—not for the kitten, but for your cheek, brushing his thumb lightly along your skin. His touch lingers longer than it needs to, his eyes soft despite the irritation in his tone.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he says quietly.

Your whole body lights up at once. “So that’s a yes?”

“I didn’t say yes,” he counters immediately, but you’re already squealing, hugging the kitten close and bouncing on your knees.

“Shiuuu, you’re the best! He’s gonna love it here, I just know it—”

He cuts you off by leaning down, pressing a slow kiss to your forehead. “You’re hopeless,” he murmurs against your skin.

When he pulls back, you’re grinning so wide it makes his chest ache. He sits there in silence, letting you babble about names and toys and vet visits, pretending not to notice the way the kitten eventually claws its way into his lap.

“…Tch,” he mutters under his breath when the tiny creature curls up against his thigh.

But you catch it. And you catch the way his hand rests there a little too naturally, fingers absently stroking fur while his eyes keep flicking to you, softer than he’ll ever admit.

bonus!

within an hour or so, you literally caught him cuddling asleep with the kitten in the couch..