Bokuto As An Ex Who Sends You Videos Of Him Jacking Off And Moaning Your Name As He Whimpers For You

gojo hates condoms ☆

not even in an ‘i can’t feel a thing’ frat-fuck way either. he just wants to be close to you. he’s touch starved as it is and being inside of you is quite literally the closet he can be to you. why would he want a barrier between his achy length and your silken walls?

he hates condoms. hates them like they’re pointing south on his moral compass. hates them like they hurt to use—which they do, in a way—the mental anguish feels real to him, at least. he picks up a fuss in the grocery store when you pull a pack of ribbed condoms from the shelf to try because why would you seek pleasure from artificial ridges when the protruding veins of his cock would feel just as good if not dressed in a condom?

sometimes he eats you out for twice as long as usual to get you really fucked out and dumb. he’ll make you cum hard and fast and so much that your mind is a mess in the hopes that you’ll forget all about your safety precautions and let him feel you from the inside out. but you always catch on. with a tsk and a finger pointed to the draw where he keeps the horrid things out of sight.

so when you let him fuck you raw for the first time, gojo is reeling. it’s on the condition that he promises to pull out, and promise he does—with a pinky finger hooked around yours and his lips to his thumb—he promises to pull out.

he decides on missionary, because as much as he loves the hundred different positions he knows how to wrangle you into, he wants to connect with you. to make love, not fuck.

and even your wetness against his tip is enough to jolt his stomach downwards. collecting your glossing over his angry head as he rubs himself up and down your folds—he would cum just like this if he wasn’t so stuck on feeling all of you. you’re warm and wet and tight as he pushes against your entrance and oh god he’s going to cum already.

“oh,” he stills, eyes deadset on yours as he slides into you. his tip is rubbing against that spot that makes your back arch upwards and it takes everything in you not to laugh at the distraught look on his face as he says “i have to pull out.”

“you’re joking, right?”

“i really wish i was baby,” he looks pained. he’s never felt something so heavenly and ungodly at the same time. he wants to do bad things, to fuck you into the mattress and breed you full of himself until you’re too weak to care about the aftermath of such recklessness. “i can’t pull out.”

“what?” you laugh, his balls tighten at the sound.

“if i move—” satoru has never looked so serious, “—i will cum. this was a bad idea. why would you let me do this?”

“you’re the one always—”

“actually don’t argue with me, you know what it does to me.” he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on anything other then the way you feel around him. he does math in his head, thinks about the people he’s killed, how much he loves you… how pretty you look right now… growing old with you.

“i swear you’re getting harder inside of—”

“imsorryiloveyoubutpleasebequietorelseyouaregoingtogetpregnant.”

it takes him a minute of mental gymnastics to feel confident enough to start slowly sliding out of you, but all hope dies when the heel of your foot presses against his ass and with a smile made of sin you pull him deeper inside of you.

he opens his mouth to protest, to tell you he is not joking and all that comes out is a beautiful strangled moan that makes you tighten around him. for a man who claims to be the strongest he is rather weak-willed when it comes to your pussy. he needs to cum so hard that it hurts, but a fear of maybe ruining your life and relationship digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“don’t do this to me,” he whines.

but you’re smiling. you’re so tight and wet and beautiful and everything he’s ever dreamt of having and holding and you’re smiling. “satoru,” you say, and he’s weak. “cum inside.”

anything for you. it’s gorgeous: the way he lets loose, falling forward to press all his weight into you as he groans and his balls release in hot spurts that you can feel painting your insides white. it’s the connection, the intimacy, the tears that prick at his eyes.

and he doesn’t pull out. no, he presses his hips forward to fuck his cum as deep into you as he possibly can and he vows to throw out every condom in the goddamn house.

god he hates condoms.

megumi doesn’t like pda. he’s a private person, he likes to keep intimate things to himself.

that is until the two of you started dating.

you decided to keep your relationship a secret, wanting to move slow and spend quality time together, just the two of you, before everyone else knew and would inevitably tease you.

you’re at a restaurant, sitting next to megumi and occasionally bumping shoulders, but not too much that your friends and upperclassmen get suspicious.

you’re talking to nobara and maki about training and classes among other things when you feel megumi’s hand curl over yours on your lap from under the table.

you don’t react at first, just continuing your conversation.

then megumi slips his fingers under your palm, turning your hand over to lace his fingers with yours.

it’s a bold move for megumi fushiguro.

you smile, turning your head slightly to glance at your secret boyfriend and finding him listening to yuji ramble on as he and yuta listen half-heartedly.

megumi squeezes your hand.

you squeeze back.

♱ ‧₊˚. THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY ꒰ toji x f!reader ꒱ nsfw — mdni [dubcon (reader is crossfaded), alcohol/cocaine use, mentions of overdosing, infidelity (reader is cheating on megumi), age-gap, degradation, praise, raw sex, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, groping, pet names, squirting] wc [4k] an [repost from last night ⸝⸝ʚ̴̶̷̆ ̯ʚ̴̶̷̆⸝⸝ if you liked this, you can also reblog it]

"m’kay— think that's enough for one night, doll," toji lets out an amused chuckle as he observes your actions through his peripheral.

you’re leaning over the tray placed on your lap to snort your fifth line of coke that night, your head shooting back up to face the roof of toji’s car as you scrunch your nose in an attempt to offset the sting of the powder lining your sinuses. once the feeling subdued, you lazily turn to face the man in the driver’s seat, blinking at him dumbfoundedly with a pouty frown on your lips.

huh.

how’d i end up in my boyfriend’s dad’s car?

why couldn’t megumi come pick me up? did i even call him? i don’t think i did. did yuuji do it? why didn’t megumi come to the party in the first place? oh, right, he has that exam tomorrow morning. wait, don’t i have to write that exam, too? god, it’s so hot, even with the windows down. the wind feels nice… shit, it’s really cold.

the harsh gust of the cool summer night’s wind flew in through toji’s open window and across your body, pushing your hair past your shoulders and raising goosebumps on your bare arms. you shiver against the leather seat, sinking further into it in an attempt to avoid the draft. this shift in your position seems to have only made it worse, however; the rigid breeze now skimming over your chest.

oh, wait, that feels good…

the copious amount of drugs in your blood had you hyper-cognizant of every tiny, minute change your body experienced, and that translated into the heightened responses it elicited.

you feel your nipples harden through the thin fabric of your tank top, and you can’t help the way your thighs start rubbing together to ease the inevitable throbbing of your clit. your breathing is quick to become ragged as you feel yourself burning up, and you undo your seatbelt to shuffle uncomfortably in your seat.

“f-fuck…” it escapes you as the quietest of erotic sighs, yet, it’s loud enough for toji’s ears to pick up on.

he’s snapping his head towards you at the sound of your high-pitched voice and the slow beeping coming from his car to signal him that you’d removed your seatbelt. his brow is raised and worry is hidden in his eyes behind the usual nonchalance they carry— he’s ready to ask you if you’re alright before the sight in front of him nearly knocks the air out of his lungs.

your head is leaning back against the headrest, face set blissfully with slightly parted lips and closed eyes. his gaze scans over your body; your nipples peeking out through your tank top, your far too-short skirt doing a poor job of covering your legs— the fabric bunching up at your hips and one of your hands slotted in between your thighs. you're dragging your clit along your fist, the faint gasps you let out travelling straight to toji’s cock.

fucking hell. were you too coked up to notice that your boyfriend’s dad was sitting right next to you?

from the first day his son brought you home, toji knew. he knew damn well you were going to cause him a lot of problems. he couldn’t deny that he had the hots for his son’s girlfriend; what with the way you waltz around his home wearing nothing but megumi’s shirts and your panties, with the way you talk to him with coquettish undertones lacing your soft voice, with the way you always smile at him so sweetly and so, so enticingly.

did you have any idea of what you do to him? or were you just that fucking naive?

did you have any idea of how he fucks his fist to the obscene sounds of your whimpers and whines as megumi fucks you into the bed in the next room over? or how he spills all over your panties that had accidentally gotten into his laundry? or how you’re in his dreams damn near every night, where he’s the one leaving his mark on you, and not megumi.

he’s brought back to the present when the tempo of the beeps coming from his car increases. before he realises it, he’s reaching out to place a sweaty palm on your thigh— a bit further up than he probably should’ve— to lightly shake you, “hey, doll, you gotta put your seatbelt back on.”

you whine in response, arching your back further off the seat upon the contact of his skin on yours, “don’t wanna…” your free hand finds its way on top of toji’s much larger one, and you slide your fingers under his palm to hold it, “can- can you… h-hah…”

toji would never admit it, but you have him short circuiting. behind his seemingly cool demeanour, he’s having a hard time driving straight in between the lines; his car swerving left and right. the incessant beeping from the dashboard that only seems to be getting louder and louder doesn’t do anything to help the chaos of the situation he’s in, “c’mon, use your words…”

he hides his flustered arousal behind that signature, devilish smirk of his, eyes fluttering between the road and your legs as he swallows an impending groan that’s brought on by you sliding his hand to hook onto the inside of your thigh.

toji's too focused on trying to not let your lewd whimpers get to his head— and his dick, to notice that the grip he had on the steering wheel was turning white-knuckled and that his foot had been applying more pressure on the accelerator.

120 mph.

“t-toji…”

he covers up a cough with a low chuckle, your soft call of his name sending his brain into overdrive. he rubs a comforting thumb along your thigh— fuck, your skin was so soft, “yeah, doll?”

you utter almost painfully, “ngh— n-need… need you…”

130 mph.

toji fushiguro was a greedy man. he craved money, sex, and all the thrills that the universe had to offer. but at this point in his life, nothing came close to how much he wanted you. was it because you were probably the only thing that he couldn’t have? maybe.

was it because you belonged to his son and not him? perhaps.

toji fushiguro was a greedy man, but the amount of self-discipline he has is almost surprising. he knows not to touch what’s not his— especially when it comes to megumi.

but with the way you’re begging him to take you, with the way you’re clinging onto his hand as if it were a lifeline— god, toji doesn’t think his patience has ever been tested to this extreme.

“fuck me… please— oh, god— need it s’bad, toji…”

140 mph.

the thin thread of resolve that toji had was very close to tearing. he inhales deeply, before looking over at you with a grin more sinister than before, “you’re playing a dangerous game here… don’t get your pretty little head into somethin’ y’know you won’t be able to get out of,” his fingers experimentally dig into the flesh of your thigh, coaxing a wanton moan of his name from your throat.

"want you so bad… wanna fuck you so bad," your thighs tighten around his hand, "want you inside me, wanna feel you fill me up—"

and that's when he snaps.

"fuck this," with a sudden jerk of the steering wheel, he's pulling over to the side of the freeway, putting his car in park before hastily undoing his seatbelt and leaning over to maneuver you onto his lap. without warning, he takes either side of your face in his hands, pulling you into him to clash his lips against yours.

the kiss is hungry and full of lust, full of the want and need that toji’s had bottled up in him for the many months you’ve been dating his son.

his fingers trace down your neck to slide the straps of your tank-top off your shoulders, pulling down the front to expose your breasts. the cool breeze of the night flows through the open window, goosebumps forming on your supple skin, and you can't help the shiver that runs up your spine as you press your chest into his to try and feel as much of him against you as possible.

his palms crawl under the fabric of your top and run up your sides, stopping at your chest to rub his calloused thumbs over your perky nipples. his actions elicit a ghost of a moan from you and an uncontrolled buck of your hips against his, "f-fuck..."

toji’s fully sober, but he feels himself getting drunk on your taste and touch, the alcohol on your tongue prominent against his, the tip of his nose lightly dusted with the white powder you messily snorted earlier. your one hand is under his black skin-tight shirt, warm palm placed on his taut abs to feel the way they contract and expand under your sensual touch; your other hand is lost in his straight black locks, gripping and gently tugging every time you feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into your arousal.

he’s groaning into your mouth and ravishing you with sloppy kisses, sucking and tugging on your lower lip before releasing it with a pop, "do you have any idea of what you do to me? walkin’ around dressed like a fuckin' hooker?" his large hands travel down to your hips, impatient fingers tapping against the cotton fabric of your too-short skirt; he's snarling against your jaw, peppering wet kisses and leaving bite marks along his trail, "the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you smile— the way you cry out my son’s name when he’s fucking you into the bed? yeah, doll, i can hear it all, y’know."

the growl lacing his baritone voice sends blood rushing straight to your clit and prompts you to grind down onto his lap, revealing the boner he'd popped, "please, toji—"

"fuck; you sound even better when you’re sayin’ my name,” his lips are at your collarbone now, trailing south to leave love-bites on the curvature of your breasts— right atop the fading ones left on you by megumi from nights prior. as for toji’s hands— they're on your thighs, palming and squeezing at whatever flesh he can get a hold of.

his fingers dance upwards, and you feel a lick of warmth shoot up your abdomen as he nears the place you need him the most. toji lets out a low groan against your sternum when he feels the lack of the thin fabric he was expecting to separate your cunt from the thick denim of his jeans, "no panties? you're practically begging to be fucked stupid, aren't cha?"

"wan' it s'bad, toji, please, please,” pawing at his crotch with butterfingers, you attempt to remove the button of his jeans, letting out a needy whine when you can't get them undone.

tojii notices that your words are more slurred now— the copious amounts of drugs and alcohol in your system are probably just reaching their peak.

he’s a man of questionable morals; sure, he’s definitely dreamed about fucking you every which way when he sleeps at night, waking up with soiled boxers and sweat drenching the sheets. he’s definitely shamelessly fucked his fist while he hears the bed creak rhythmically from his son’s room next door, your broken mewls and cries spurring him on until he cums the most he thinks he ever has.

he’s a man of questionable morals; but even he can tell this is an all time low for him. there's a voice in the back of his mind that's screaming at him to stop, how messed up it is of him to be fucking his son's girlfriend— but how does he expect himself to hold back when you're the one who pushed yourself onto him, when you're the one asking him— and not his son, your boyfriend— to bury his cock deep within you and fill you up.

toji helps you with unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his cock from its confines, letting out a curse when the cold night breeze sweeps over it. your pussy throbs at the sight of his dick— it's leaking pre-cum, fat tip flushed red and angry; desperately in need of attention with the way it's twitching against his abdomen. you can't help the giggle that escapes you in that moment, your index finger lightly tracing over a prominent vein, "can tell where ‘gumi got his size from…”

his cock twitches again at your words, a breathy laugh leaving him as he leans forward, one hand finding the back of your neck to mold his lips against yours. with his other hand, he takes a hold of his cock and strokes it a few times, rubbing the pre-cum over his length before flicking your skirt up and gliding the head in between your folds, making sure to give extra attention to your puffy nub. he feels your hips buck against his and your arms wrap tighter around his shoulders when he prods your entrance open, dreamily sighing into his mouth, “feels s’good, toji…”

“h-hah, ‘m not even in you yet— o-oh, fuck,” you sink down on his full length without warning, languid moans falling from both of your lips, and your ass squishing down against his thighs as you take a moment to adjust to his size.

just from looking at his dick, you thought it was roughly the same size as your boyfriend’s but fuck, does it feel so much bigger inside you— the girth stretching you out almost painfully and the thick head hitting pleasure points against your wall that you didn’t even know existed. your chest flushes with warmth when he shifts his hips experimentally, your clit catching onto his pubic bone, earning a broken whimper from you as you bury your head in the crook of his neck.

maybe it’s all the foreign substances in your blood talking, but toji’s dick feels so, so amazing— feels like you’re in seventh heaven, and he hasn’t even started moving. a part of you is scared for him to, knowing that you’ll be sure to cum embarrassingly quick from the heavy drag of his veiny cock and the tip nudging up against that one sacred spot inside you that megumi’s dick couldn’t even dream of reaching.

unbeknownst to you, toji was experiencing the same inner turmoil. he swears he’s never been in pussy this tight— or at least not in many years; and god, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this good. he’s pretty sure you’re unaware of the way your wall is clamping down on his length, but he’s hyper aware of how your ministrations keep pushing him closer and closer to his release. his arms engulf your frame and pull you flush against his chest, his breathing ragged against the crown of your head, “gotta stop clenching ‘round my cock like that, baby, f-fuck.”

your hold on his bicep loosens as you turn your head into his face, lips tracing his jaw. you look up at him through your lashes and you both share the same expression; parted lips slowly curving upwards into soft smiles. toji knew this was wrong; who in their right mind would fuck their son’s girlfriend? you also knew it was wrong, even through your clouded inebriation, but that just added to the thrill of it all; the giddiness in both of you growing by the second, “i— s-sorry…”

toji’s heart swells upon hearing your sweet voice, and he can’t help but coo at you, “good girl, so sweet f’me— umph!”

good girl.

all it took were those two words to have you clamping down on his cock again, this time much harder than previously. a lewd cry escapes your lips as your head falls forward onto his chest, your arms encircling his broad shoulders, “f-fuck, ‘m sorry!”

he’s panting into your neck, hot breath leaving drops of condensation that drip down your skin. toji has a lot of patience and willpower, both of which were running extremely low— all thanks to you. it’s not like he really minds, though; he wants nothing more than to fuck you senseless, wants nothing more than to hear you call out his name, wants nothing more than to taint you and watch his thick seed leak out of you, “y’like that, huh? like it when i praise ya, pretty?”

your needy whine overtakes his voice mid-sentence as your rub your hips against his. you want to fuck him; you want to bounce on his cock and make him feel good, but there’s no way you can. you’re practically jelly in his arms; complaisant and pliable, and half your mind is wishing you’d taken it easier on the alcohol, “mhm, can you— h-hah… fuck me, please, d-daddy?”

toji groans when hears your last word, “smart girl— catchin’ on s’quickly,” he’s quick to heed your request that you asked him oh, so sweetly for, thrusting his hips up into yours gently once, twice, and then a third time, his half-lidded eyes scanning your face.

your bottom lip is caught between your top teeth as you try to suppress the obscene sounds you knew would escape your throat; your eyes are shut and brows furrowed, head tilted back to expose your neck and chest to him. his lips find a home in the hollow of your collar bone, where he sucks and nips to mark you up even more— the thought of megumi finding your body littered with small bruises that he knows he didn’t leave has toji smirking into your skin.

his actions elicit a gasp from you and your fingers find the roots of his hair to grip them, “daddy; please, please, please— ngh, s’good,” you’re babbling at this point, without even the slightest of clues of what you’re begging him for.

calling him “daddy” again seem to awaken some type of carnal desire within him, with the way his thrusts start becoming more forceful and his fingertips dig further into the flesh of your waist. he’s hitting deep— so deep and so violently that your jaw falls slack and a loud moan of his name leaves your lips.

toji growls in response, one hand leaving your waist to pull you in by the back of your neck for a slobbery kiss. your tongues massage each other, drool dripping down the corners of your mouths. it’s messy— full of lust and passion and desire.

he loves it that way.

the sounds of his thighs slapping up against your ass and the wet squelches of his cock ploughing into your leaking cunt fill the empty silence of the car, but your lewd cries and mewls are quick to join the ensemble. you sound so cute— so innocent and so sweet with the way you’re begging for him that a part of toji wishes he hadn’t fallen prey to his craving for you. despite this, he can’t help the ever-growing amount of blood rushing down to his cock.

he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, and neither were you.

every thrust up into your soft cunny has your clit catching onto his pelvis, and you can feel the cold flame in your abdomen burning brighter from the accompanied drag of his cock against all the pleasure points that line your walls. broken gasps and whimpers fall onto his ears as you swear he’s fucking up into your womb.

toji isn’t faring much well off either; your gummy walls have his length in a vice grip, and your voice only drives him closer and closer to his high. his eyes are stuck on your entrance, salivating at the way the ring of cream coating the base of his cock gets thicker with each thrust up into you, "gonna let daddy cum inside this pretty pussy?"

“oh, fuck, y-yes—” your grip on his hair tightens.

“yeah?” it’s a back-and-forth; toji asking you almost mockingly and you responding with high-pitched whines, “so good f'me.”

and suddenly, without warning, he’s groping your ass to fuck you at an angle that has you choking on your breath. you sob at the way the fat head of his dick is hitting your cervix rapidly, falling dizzy from how he’s splitting you in half. an unfamiliar tremor slowly makes its appearance within you, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt it when megumi’s made you cum before.

no, this is different; it feels like a flash, a hot streak ripping through your body and pulsating in your abdomen as you succumb to your arousal, your body breaking into trembles under toji’s secure hold, “daddy, cumming— 'm cumming!”

“shh, that’s it, princess, let go,” his thumb finds your clit to rub gentle circles on it, helping you ride out your high. you're crying while you're cumming, the pleasure hitting you like a high tide, and you’re gasping for air as you feel your essence leaking out of the gap between your cunny and toji’s cock to wet his lap and the leather seat below him. your walls spasm around him, and he twitches inside of you as his thrusts pick up speed, “f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum too.”

and that he does. he’s leaning into you, muffling a guttural groan into your neck as his hips lose their rhythmic pace and begin to stutter. he spills inside your womb, seed sloshing around your walls to paint them an opaque, milky white. his cock twitches inside you, the warmth of your spongy walls sending gentle waves of euphoria through him.

you’re resting your head on his chest with his chin on your scalp, both of you heaving to catch your breaths in the aftermath of a mind-blowing orgasm. toji’s the first to speak, pressing a lingering kiss to your hairline, “you’re fuckin’ filthy, doll.”

his voice rumbles through his chest, the reverberations ringing through your worn body and you all of a sudden feel embarrassed, letting out a timid hum as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

“don’t go gettin’ all shy on me now,” one of toji’s hands tighten around your waist, the other coming up to gently cup your cheek and lift your face to meet his gaze.

he had always thought your looks were easy on the eyes, but seeing you like this— with your tired, lust-blown eyes, a thin sheen of saliva coating your pouty lips, and the moon casting her light down on one side of your face to illuminate the apples of your cheeks and the colour of your irises— god, he swears he’s never seen a sight more stunning, “megumi’s one lucky bastard,” his thumb caresses your cheekbone and you find yourself leaning into his touch, a lazy smile making its way onto your face.

he’s silent as he admires your face for a minute before you finally process his previous statement, your brain working at half it’s sober speed, “hah, or maybe he’s not—”

“let’s not… let’s not think about that for now,” he whispers before leaning forward to slot your lips between his in an attempt to push that thought aside in his mind.

the gravity of the situation you’d both gotten yourselves into hadn’t exactly hit yet— neither of you want it to— thinking that you could stay in this position, with his lips moulded against yours and his cock buried deep within the warm confinements of your walls for eternity.

you're both brought out of your post-sex bliss when buzzing comes from your phone that’s laying face up on the shotgun seat. your heads turn in time to take a look at who's calling, only to be met with a selfie of you and megumi on the screen. toji reaches an arm out to pick up the device, an expletive followed by a low laugh leaving his lips, and he taps your phone gently against the side of your head, "so... you gonna answer that, princess? or should i?"

REBLOGS + FEEDBACK APPRECIATED ⸝⸝ʚ̴̶̷̆ ̯ʚ̴̶̷̆⸝⸝

taglist: @fleurbrat @k7ss @awwhstheic @ivoryeycs @keiphoria @21-06-1996 @etheralyonn @bnhababyyyy @tinydiors @myschevious @nanaminshousewife @yeagerfushiguro @multistan-247 @qstrea @shadowarchon

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) - G.S.

Synopsis. In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, FWḂ! Gojo, slight Sukuna x reader, rough VERY jealous séx, Satoru goes feraI omg, unprotected, FWḂ-to-lovers, thígh riding, fíngering, creampíe, overstím, spítting, implied thréesome, he’s a bit mean and possessive, swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. Heheh, hoping y’all have a lovely week coming up <3

“-n’ there’s this really great café downtown with those cupcakes you like-”

“Toru.”

“-I’ll get ya some for that kick you need after a lecture with Yaga. Speaking of Yaga-”

“Toru-”

“-he’s the one in need of a kick. I swear, that man gave me a B on my presentation just because I caught him in the middle of his interpretive dance routine-”

“Satoru!”

At this, Satoru pauses in the middle of buckling up his jeans to throw a grave nod your way. “I know, right?” Promptly sauntering over to pick up his t-shirt from where it had been thrown onto your bedroom floor, “It gave me nightmares for a few days, too. Which is why we should go to that café tomorrow and then…”

You roll your eyes - partially out of frustration, partially out of necessity to rip your stare away from those sculpted shoulders on display. Decorated in angry, red scratches running down, down, down. Somehow, you manage to grit out, “Satoru I have a uh- date.”

And ah, was it a sight to behold - because, perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has wreaked havoc on this planet, he’s stunned into silence. 

Still very groggy from sleep, still very sinfully shirtless standing at the foot of your bed. His kiss-bitten lips fall slack as you plow on, “And it’s just- I can’t make it tomorrow night because he invited me to his party.” 

Party? This was the first time you canceled one of your…appointments with your friend-with-benefits - and it was for some party? Satoru could do parties, too - much better ones than this loser, he’s sure. Ones that would actually warrant you bailing on him.

Shaking away the strange thoughts ringing in his mind, he spits, “Who?” Just about all he could get out now. 

Whoever he was - it was true about the parties. Why would you want to waste any time going to something like that when Satoru was the one known for them on campus. Him and Suku-

“It’s Sukuna.”

“Oh.”

---

It was stupid - it was ridiculous. And you don’t know why Sukuna ever agreed to this scheme, but here you were, glued to his side like his favorite lil’ plaything for the night. 

“What?” you shout for the nth time tonight, scooting closer on the couch. And you see his lips move, yet, to your frustration - despite being seated so flush against you - no sound comes out of them. 

Whatever they say about Sukuna and Satoru’s parties were true - and then some. Because right now, it was so loud you could barely hear yourself think, let alone whatever Sukuna was talking about. Heaving out a sigh, you get ready to give up and suggest joining the thrumming dance floor - before, a large, soft hand glides down to your waist. 

Fingers digging into the plush of your hips as Sukuna yanks you easily to plop down onto his waiting lap. Thighs strong and steady underneath yours, meeting your surprised gaze with his smug one, “This better?”

His hot breath fans the shell of your ear, sending traitorous shivers running along your spine - all the way down to where Sukuna was resting hand right above where your tight dress was hiking up. 

Involuntarily, you find yourself nodding along, “Y-yeah. Much better.”

“Good.”

Fuck, you could feel each and every rumble of his broad chest against yours as he continues the conversation like nothing happened. The faint tap! tap! tap! of Sukuna’s fingers drumming on your squirming hips to the beat of the pounding music. 

And it’s really hard to forget where you are, yet it hits you like a semi-truck - five of them, in fact - when his dark eyes widen at something over your shoulders. The steady beat of his fingers halting abruptly, “Oh?”

You knew what that look meant - knew who it meant. Because, really, there was only ever one person that could command as much attention in such a hazy, packed campus party.

Dipping your head, you hastily ask, “Is he looking over at us?”

To which Sukuna finally tears his gaze away, amusement and something else so dark swirling behind his gaze when he grabs the back of your throat. Whispering against the skin, “More than looking, pretty. Satoru’s planning my funeral and dancing on my grave already.” Moving up, voice dropping to a low, low whisper, “All according to plan, of course. N’ I think…” You jolt as he bites down on your earlobe, hard. “-that we should give him a lil’ show, hm?”

You bite back a soft moan, palms smoothing over Sukuna’s pecs to steady yourself. “And just what did you have in mind?”

“A little bit of this.” he grins, eyes flickering over behind you. “A little bit of that. And some of-” Sukuna chuckles at the way you’re so responsive underneath his touch, bucking when he gives your ass a tight squeeze. Tracing right up, up, up the middle of your spine, “-this.” Lips just inches away from yours now, close. “And you get him as a new boyfriend, and I get killed for taking what I can’t have.”

You feel something soft - fleeting. 

And then immediately Sukuna’s pulling away, those lips that were just barely one yours curling up into such a sly smirk, “Yo, Satoru.”

You stiffen at the name - and the burning hole being stared into your back right now - whipping your head around to be met face-to-face with a towering Satoru. Brows furrowed, biceps rippling when he crosses his arms, lips drawn tight as he hisses through his teeth, “Seems the two of you are having a lot of fun.”

Oh, were you thankful for Sukuna’s sharp mouth right about now. Because while you’re still sitting there with your mouth stupidly agape, he muses, “Mhm, a lot of fun.” Thumbing your face back towards him, “Isn’t that right, pretty?”

Fuck, those were fighting words, ones that had Satoru looming closer - practically sandwiching you between the two men.

“I’m sure she can speak for herself.” he snaps back, slender fingers circling your wrist. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“I dunno, Toru.” And, well, maybe you were an idiot. Maybe you were a mastermind, because you only bat your lashes up at Satoru so deceivingly innocently. “Kuna here-” relishing in the way he flinches at the nickname, “-was jus’ telling me how great of a boyfriend he’d be. Right?”

The other man nods, “Since this pretty lil’ thing is single, thought I might as well take a shot.”

“Please.” Satoru was pulling you closer against him now, irritated huffs prickling waves of goosebumps across your skin. Words venomous, “Some boyfriend he’d be. I’m sure he’d do nothing other than give you weak dick and bore you to death.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Right, because yours is so much better?”

“You really think you have what it takes to satisfy this lil’ minx?”

Both men were gritting their teeth, trapping you between them. People were starting to stare now - some even pulling their phones out to start recording in case of a fight. And before the argument could escalate until that point, you catch Sukuna’s eye. Cutting off whatever next retort was on the tip of his tongue with a short, subtle shake of your head. 

“Well then…” he instead purrs, grinning as if he was in on some inside joke between the two of you - on purpose, of course, just to watch Satoru’s eyes grow harder. “Guess if I’m ‘boring her to death’ then you-” Sukuna gives you a little push, nudging you towards Satoru’s chest. “-can teach her all about fun.”

Before you can react, two strong arms are looping your waist, helping you stand up - and pulling you clean off of Sukuna’s lap. 

You’re hit with Satoru’s expensive, heady cologne - and his chest against your back, rock-hard, chest thumping wildly. You blink up at that uncharacteristically clenched jaw, “Toru?”

Now, you’ve seen him moody, you’ve seen him irritated - but never to this extent. Positively fuming, teeth grit, jolting at the mere sound of your voice as if his whole body was hit with a wave of electricity. Like some hidden, primal part of himself was being poked so dangerously awake when you softly intertwine your fingers with his. All gentle against his almost bruising hold, you question, “Are you alri-”

You don’t get to finish the question, because all it takes is another slow, leering grin flashed at you from Sukuna before Satoru mutters, gravelly. “Excuse us, then. I must have a talk with my woman.”

Starting to walk in long, fast strides upstairs - with you all stumbling and trying to keep up behind him. 

Urgent. Dangerous.

“Extra room’s unlocked, you two!” you hear Sukuna call out after the both of you. And the last sight you see of him is when he mouths a silent “You’re welcome.”. One hand flashing you a thumbs up, the other adjusting the crotch of his pants. “Have fun.”

Satoru only clicks his tongue, moving very purposefully towards where Sukuna’s bedroom was instead.

“Woah- Toru, slow down.” you yelp, out of breath at his ruthless pace. But of course, since this is Satoru, he won’t have it any way other than stopping immediately in his tracks. Turning briefly around to you - only to wrap two arms around your waist, throwing you so easily over his shoulder like some ragdoll. Large palms tugging down the hem of your ass as he continues walking. “Y-you’re so-”

So what? Mean? Jealous? Playing right into your hands?

You don’t even know - nor do you really care, because Satoru finally reaches his destination.

“Fuck- here.” he spits.

Slam!

The door is flung open so hard it almost rattles off its hinges - and you aren’t faring any better. Because no sooner has Satoru stepped inside, he’s throwing you onto the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. 

The mattress dips as he slowly makes his way up to you, your legs quiver at how much he just looked like a man starved - eyes half-lidded and crazed, hair ruffled. Having finally found a full meal in years. Darkly eyeing down the way you’re splayed out like such a slut on the mattress, dress hiking up with each bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 

“So-” Satoru’s fingers reach out to lazily unbuckle the straps of your heels. Lingering much more than necessary. “-got anything to say?”

You bite your lower lip, holding back a delighted grin while his hands dance up your thigh to fiddle with that garter you knew he’d love. Slow. Agonizingly slow. Cocking your head in faux-confusion, “Hmm, like what?”

“Oh I dunno.” Satoru muses, saccharine sweet. And oh you could tell by his tone that he didn’t like that - didn’t want to like it. Running his fingers feather-light all the way down your legs to fling that useless garter onto the floor. “How about a ‘oh I’m so sorry, Toru, for bailing on you and acting like such a slut with the biggest asshole on campus jus’ to rile you up.’” 

You bristle at his mockingly high tone, oh yeah, your plan worked - hell, maybe too well. 

Teeth clenched, you hiss, “Well what are you gonna do about it, Toru?” Jutting your chin in defiance, “You’re not even my boyfriend. Maybe he jus’ fucks me better than you.”

“Say that again.”

Fuck, it takes you a second to even recognise his voice as your familiar friend-with-benefits. So jagged and raw. 

And yet, you’re still running your mouth - so close to his. Too close. “Maybe he jus’ fucks me be-”

Now, usually you were the one that’d shut up Satoru mid-sentence - this time, however, he’s the one crashing his lips against yours. Swallowing the rest of that sentence in such a messy clash of teeth, and spit, and desperation. 

Pulling ever-so-slightly on your glossy lower lip with his teeth, “Say it again, sweetheart.”

Oh, you knew you shouldn’t. Not one bit. But you do it anyway, letting out a muffled, “He f-”

And again. And again and again and-

Each and every time Satoru’s kissing away your mean little words, a large hang coming up around your throat to thumb apart your lips further. “Open.” he hisses against your mouth, so angry. 

It’s as if on autopilot when you do, bruised lips sagging open. Leaving the perfect lil’ opening for Satoru to spit onto your lolling tongue, once. Twice. Thrice. Until your bleary eyes are snapping open, whining against Satoru’s iron-hold fist when you pathetically try to pull away in embarrassment.

Because shit, let it be known that Gojo Satoru has perfect aim - except for when it comes to you. Letting the steady strip of spit splatter against the side of your mouth, gliding his thumb to smear it all over your lips.

“How cute.” Satoru coos, eyes hooded. He gives your pouty mouth a final, chaste peck, sucking softly on your bottom lip. Chuckling, “Makin’ me almost forget you were locking lips with some other bitch earlier.”

And Satoru has the audacity to laugh - laugh - hoarse, and humorless at the way your jaw drops open in disbelief. Humming into your throat, “Yer right, though, m’not your boyfriend.” He leaves little bite marks down your racing pulse, your collarbone, your tits spilling out of your sinful dress. Eyes just devouring you through his long lashes, “But that doesn’t make you any less mine.”

Sitting back on the mattress, all it takes him is a simple tug on your hips to seat you so prettily on his lap. Your legs trembling around his thick thighs, gasping at the feeling of something so rock-hard right under your clothed pussy. 

“Since ya like riding thighs so much, sweetheart-” Bunching your dress up at your hips, gripping your waist - tight. “-let’s see how you like mine.”

“What- oh ngh- fuck-” you’re gasping when he just starts dragging your sloppy hips down his thigh. Long, harsh movements that don’t even ease you into it. 

“Shit.” Satoru groans at the feeling of your cunt drooling, seeping into his skin already. He’s angling his head to spy on the heavenly view - hooking a finger around your drenched panties. “This damn thing is-” Pulling - tearing. “-in the way.”

You’re gasping when Satoru pulls back to look at you with a content grin, dangling the flimsy fabric around his finger like a badge of honor. “You’re- ngh- buying me a new one.”

“Oh, anything for you.” he’s grazing his teeth along your earlobe, fingers finding their way back on your hips to grind them on his thigh, back and forth. Up and down up and down up and- “Or is that what you wanted me to say?”

And shit Satoru is so mean with the way he gives your ass a sharp smack! Pulling your whiny face closer, grinning sternly against your lips. “Why don’t you ask that new boytoy of yours to buy you some, huh?” 

“B-but-”

“B-b-but-” he mocks, bouncing his knees up and down to get you to slide your cunt down his long thighs faster. Puffy folds spreading so shamefully open - so shamefully good. “You were so happy being such a slut for him before, right?” Just goading on your poor self to huff and puff in a way that made his cock twitch wildly. “So why are you here? With me?”

You’re stubbornly keeping your lips sealed shut to keep yourself from crying out - and oh, Satoru didn’t like that. Almost as much as he didn’t like seeing you giving those beautiful heart-eyes at some other bastard.

“Oh? Playing shy now?” Smack! “What happened to the slut from earlier, huh?” Bouncing his knee faster. The pads of his long fingers sting into your skin, sure to leave bruises for him to admire later - and for some people to take note of. Pulling - drawing your cunt to hump him like a bitch in heat. “Tha’s alright, pretty. I get it.” 

And Satoru - mean, mean Satoru - waits until your features soften in relief, almost letting out a sigh - before dipping a hand down to brush a thumb at your pretty clit. Hard. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to bring her out.”

“Oh- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl, nails digging into Satoru’s shoulders when he starts to draw frenzied, methodical little circles on your throbbing clit. “S’too- good- oh my god-”

“‘Toru’ works jus’ fine, sweetheart.” 

But oh for how confident Satoru was talking you into insanity, he can’t help but gape in wonder down below him, awe-struck with how sloppy you were. He could see you sweet sweet juices trailing down his palm, that glossy sheen on his thigh. “You’re so dripping wet, pretty. Who’re you this wet for? Me or-” Satoru’s free hand comes up to squish your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, turning your head to the adjacent wall, where Sukuna had a framed photograph of himself - because of course he did. “-him?”

Fuck, Satoru can’t even be mad at the way he feels your cunt clench in surprise - because the feeling is so heavenly. His pretty girl, getting off on just his thigh.

Hips stuttering as you move faster - sloppier. So, so filthily all the way from around his knee just till where you could feel the curve of his massive erection. 

He doesn’t even have to move your hips for you anymore - you’re moving as if on instinct at this point. And it makes him smirk, “Heh, such a slutty lil’ thing aren’t ya? Gettin’ off on my thigh?” Feeling you push your hips down hard - so hard. Pelvis desperately trying to hit all your sweet spots, “N’ who’s thigh are you riding right now?”

It’s all you can do to manage out a whimpering “Y-you.”

But, of course, that wasn’t enough. And Satoru’s only quirking his fingers just enough on your clit to make you cry out loud. “Yeah tha’s more like it. Louder now - who’s thigh are you riding right now?”

“You-”

“N’ who got you this fucking wet?”

You cry out when Satoru angles his leg up ever-so-slightly to watch gravity slide you faster down his thigh. Clit catching so fucking obscenely along the fabric of his pants. Ruthless.

“F-fuck you, Toru!”

“Mhmmm, thought so.” His hot tongue darts out to catch those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the unforgiving stimulation. Muscled thighs burning lightly now - faster -  fingers so erratic. Only getting even more so. “Cuz you’re mine aren’t ya?”

You cum so hard - violent, even - that you don’t realize when you are. Just that you’re letting out a broken sob of Satoru’s name while he toys so relentlessly with your clit through your high.

Flashes of white in your vision, your heartbeat in your ears. So good that you’re almost tearing apart his button-up to shreds, hips jerky and sensitive as you your sloppy cunt gushes all over Satoru’s thigh. And, fuck, you’ve never felt so much like such a slut than when you look down to catch the glossy coating all over it. 

One that Satoru swipes thumb at - pooling the syrupy slick on his fingerpad before bringing up to his pretty pink lips and-

Pop! 

“Mmm.” He groans, muffled. “Fuck, you’re so sweet - could taste you forever.” Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste, “Almost makes me forget that you didn’t answer my last question.”

And you don’t know what you’re reeling more from - the way that Satoru throws you around so easily, pushing you back until you’re splayed out against the plush mattress, shaky legs on his shoulders, arms around his neck. Or from the realization that shit, you’d been too busy losing your absolute sanity to answer his question. 

“I- I didn’t hear.” you make up an excuse, heels digging into the muscles of Satoru’s shoulders now. “I’m yours, Tor-”

“Now now, don’t try that with me, sweetheart.” Satoru cuts off your flurry of apologies, kissing softly at the ankle beside his neck while he pulls off your dress and bra. You didn’t need those, anyway. “Guess I just hafta prove it to ya, right?”

And fuck was he well and fully intent on proving it to you. Because the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s peeling down his drenched pants - and those unnecessary boxers right along with it, too. 

Satoru hisses when his painfully hard erection smacks against those toned abs, smearing precum in a small, filthy little pool. So so angry with the need to be inside your tight pussy - to prove to you from the inside out that you were his. 

“Ya like what you see?” he notices your fixed stare at his cock. Greedily following the precum beading at his fat, red head, making its way between Satoru’s prominent veins. To those tufts of white way down, down, down- “Hey there.” You’re startled out of your little reverie by two wet fingers being snapped in your face, “As flattered as I am, this is actually my favorite part.”

And fuck you could see why it was.

Because it felt so sinful to watch with bated breath at the way Satoru fists his swollen cock, gliding his weeping tip between your swollen folds. Letting your pretty pussy slobber all over him. Up and down. Again. And again. Teasing. 

“P-please, Toru-” you whine around the fifth time he’s “accidentally” nudging at your poor clit. Hips bucking up in need for more more more- “Enough teasing, jus’ wan’ you ngh- inside me.”

To Satoru, no sweeter words have been spoken. But he still manages to curl his lips into a leering smirk at your fucked-out, needy self. “Funny. Coming from someone who shit- pretty, you’re pussy’s trynna suck me up - who couldn’t wait to bail on me tonight for some other hah- jerk.” He presses his thick tip down on your clit, on purpose. “Would’ve fucked you ngh- real nicely, tonight, y’know? What a shame.” 

You can only watch when he draws his hips back, lining up right with your sloppy hole. “What a shame m’gonna ah- fuck you like the slut you are right now.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s pushing in - to your snug cunt, to your fucking lungs it felt like. 

“Oh- oh fuck, Toru-” you keen, back arching off the bed at the stretch. Satoru’s girth was rubbing up against your gummy walls and stretching them out so good. All the way until all you could feel was the rapid thump! thump! thump! of his throbbing cock pushing between your legs. “God, s’too big-”

“No no no, you don’t get to say that.” Satoru spits into your open mouth, hips jutting forward like some animal in short, shallow grinds to bully himself deeper. “You don’t get to fuck- ngh- act all coy when you brought this upon yourself.” His words come out faster - more slurred. Falling out faster and faster as his hips do, “Not when you decided t-to act like a lil’ slut hah- n’ guess what?”

Whether it was a rhetorical question or not - you weren’t sure. All you know is that you’re mewling up tearily at such a feral Satoru, “W-what?”

To which he only smiles against your lips, hips suddenly going still. Dangerously still. “N’ that means m’gonna fuck you like one.”

Before you can even react, he’s pushing in all in one go. Fuck, it never got easier even after so long. 

“Oh- fuck I can’t take it- all-” you cry helplessly as he keeps pushing past that first ring of resistance. The curve of his cock massaging all those hidden sweet spots inside while he keeps splitting you apart deeper and deeper - not daring to even slow down. Not until Satoru’s well satisfied with the kiss of your bruised cervix against his thick head ,heavy balls smacking against your marked-up ass. 

“See? Knew you could take it, you always do.”

And then he’s moving - not with the slow, persistent determination from before, no. Satoru was so animalistic, bouncing you unapologetically on the mattress. 

Hands keeping your hips still to let him ram his entire cock inside your tight pussy. Over and over and-

“Still don’t think you’re not- fuck- mine, sweetheart?” Satoru runs a hand through his hair to see you better, to drink in the sight of your puffy folds bulging around his cock. Struggling to take in each mean thrust, “Because this seems ngh- reeeeal convincing that you are.”

You scrunch your brows in a pathetic plea, “I-I am yours, Toru- ngh-”

But he only brings his ear closer, “What was th-that? Didn’t hah- hear you-” Hands pushing apart your legs until they burned at the stretch. Until you were so shamefully on display for him, “You hah- need more convincing? Oh, I see.”

“I don’t! Oh- T-ngh”

It’s all you can do to let out teary, broken moans when Satoru rolls his hips harder. So carefully practiced with the way he locates your sweet spot easily. 

“Yeah? You hah- like that?” he groans, words punctuated by a deep, harsh thrust. All hitting the bulls-eye each and every time. “Like me f-fuckin’ you like you’re mine?”

At this point, you’re scrambling at the damp sheets, the headrest, Satoru’s shoulders - just anything and everything to hold onto whatever’s left of your sanity - which seemed to be slipping away with each press of Satoru’s head against your g-spot. 

But it still wasn’t enough.

Languidly, he brings a hand over to pinch your ravaged clit between two fingers. Having you whine so prettily with each roll of his fingertips. “Answer the question, pretty.”

“Yes!” you gasp, feet kicking at the sheer overstimulation. “I love it- ngh shit shit shit- I love it, Toru- love it so much.”

Shit, you might’ve just broken him.

Because while you may have thought that this answer would calm your Satoru down a bit - it only made him snap. Eyes widening, hips stuttering, swollen lips falling into such a fucked-out oh! - he looked like an absolute wreck.

Letting out a low, throaty groan of, “Oh fuck, you’re gonna be the ngh- death of me.” With this, he’s pressing his sweaty forehead onto yours, breaths coming out in feverish little puffs that match his merciless cadence. “Wish they could fuck- see you like this.” Ramming inside you harder - meaner. Giving your clit a light smack! before he starts playing with it once more. “I’d ah- fuck you in front of all those losers that think they have a chance just to show off how good you are f’me. Because you’re fuck fuck fuck- my good girl, right?”

You nod as much as you can, head just spinning with each brush of Satoru’s dick against your sensitive spots. Fingers twirling at your clit just as dizzyingly. Letting your slick glisten all over his wrist - his painfully squeezing balls - all the way up to his abs with how hard he was fucking into your tight pussy.

The both of you were getting so sloppy now. No care or concern for the party still raging on outside, not when your gummy walls were sucking up Satoru’s aching cock like that. 

“No one ngh- can fuck you like this.” Satoru sucks on your lower lip. Ragged, like it pained him to keep talking, but he couldn’t stop anyway. “No one.” Milking you harder and harder like he was high off your sweet moans. More desperate - depraved. “Cuz m’yours.”

And he repeats that - into your lips, into your forehead, down your neck - over and over while you cum so fucking hard all on his swollen cock. Plushy walls squeezing so tight that it was almost difficult to fuck you through your high.

Ripping out strangled, raspy groans with each clench of your slutty cunt, “N’ you’re mine.” You think your vision gets hazy through your climax, and the only thing you can hear are those obscene squelches and Satoru’s voice. Like a mantra, “You’re mine- you’re mine you’re mine you’re mine- fuck you’re mine.”

Not straying too far behind, Satoru cums and he thinks he sees the pearly gates of heaven - with you, such an angel. 

So sweetly whining into his ear when he’s painting your walls white, pumping rope after rope of thick, hot cum into your awaiting pussy.

Blinking back his vision only to eye the way it overspills, dribbling down your slit with each harsh ram of his hips. 

“Wan’ go again-” Satoru groans. Only fucking his seed deeper and deeper and oh- he didn’t want to stop. Didn’t think he could stop with the way you were bringing out each and every single last drop like it was delicious. “F-fuck I needa go again. Swee-”

SLAM!

“Woah, seems the two of you are having a looota fun.”

Still not pulling out, both you and Satoru scramble to cover yourselves up with Sukuna’s now-soaked sheets. Well, mainly cover you up, for Satoru had no shame in staring the other man down. Scoffing out, “The fuck are you fuck- don’ squeeze me so hard, pretty- the fuck are you here for?”

“It’s my room, n’ I had a feeling you’d be here.” Sukuna lets the door shut so agonizingly slow, flashing the two of you a lazy, devilish grin. “Besides - this is my date, after all.”

A/N. Plagiarism of work not authorized.

inked

↳ summary: after two weeks apart, Gojo comes home to a surprise—your love, permanently inked into your skin.

→ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x fem!reader

→ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

→ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: tattoo mentioned. unprotected soft sex. nothing crazy tbh.

→ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k+

Nerves you hadn’t anticipated began to bubble up, weaving their way through your chest and settling just beneath your skin. They were spurred on by the text sitting on your phone:

“10 minutes out. See you soon. I love you.”

Two weeks. Two long weeks without Gojo Satoru, two weeks in a bed that felt impossibly empty without him sprawling across it. Seeing him again after he’d been away was always exciting—but this time, there was an edge of nervousness that made your hands clammy and your mind spiral with doubts you knew weren’t real.

Your fingers hovered over the soft fabric of your shirt, pressing lightly against your ribs where the new addition to your body lay hidden. It had been an idea you’d toyed with for months, one fueled by Shoko’s persistent reassurances that Gojo would love it, that it was exactly the kind of thing he’d appreciate. Her encouragement had been the final push you needed, convincing you to do it while Gojo was away on one of his longer missions.

You’d planned everything down to the smallest detail, keeping it secret for weeks, and now, as the faint hum of his cursed energy swept through the apartment and the sound of his key turning in the door filled the air, you realized the moment was finally here.

Satoru was nothing if not consistent. The moment he stepped through the door, he dropped his bags unceremoniously by the entrance and came looking for you, the one reason he didn’t mind coming back from a mission, the one reason this place felt like home. You felt his presence before you saw him—a ripple of cursed energy that always seemed to announce his arrival—and then his arms were around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

His lips found the side of your neck, brushing a soft kiss against the exposed skin just above the neckline of the sweatshirt you wore. His sweatshirt, really.

“Hey, you,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand moved to rest over his forearm. It was impossible not to smile when Satoru was involved. “Mission go okay?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, his lips trailing lazily up and down your neck, each touch slow and deliberate. “Missed you.”

Your fingers reached back instinctively, tangling in the soft strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Missed you too, Satoru,” you murmured, voice warm and steady. “Always.”

He smiled against your neck, his lips brushing just below your ear before pulling back. His hands slid to your hips, gently tugging you, silently asking for you to turn toward him. You didn’t hesitate, shifting to face him, and the second you did, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow, steady, and all-consuming, reminding you exactly why every long mission, every restless night without him, every aching moment spent apart, was worth it.

It was worth it because Gojo loved you. He loved you in a way you once thought was impossible for someone like him, someone so untouchable, so larger than life. He loved you in a way you never thought possible for yourself, in a way that felt like it had been pulled from a story, something too good to be real.

But it was real. Gojo loved you deeply, with everything he was. He loved you with an intensity that could both quiet the noise of the world and fill it with endless laughter. It seeped into the cracks of your life, filling spaces you hadn’t realized were empty. He loved you loudly, in ways that made your heart race, but also quietly, in the moments when his care spoke louder than words.

Gojo loved with a kind of intensity that could make your head spin, unrelenting and unapologetic. He wasn’t subtle—subtlety wasn’t in his nature. He’d pull you into his arms without warning, spinning you around just to hear you laugh, or press endless kisses to your face while you half-heartedly swatted at him, knowing it would only encourage him.

He’d take every opportunity to be close to you, tangling himself around you on the couch during movie nights, even if it meant he barely watched the screen. Sometimes, he’d lean in far too close while you were in the middle of a task, resting his chin on your shoulder and grinning as he distracted you with some ridiculous joke or a kiss just behind your ear. Satoru loved loudly, with every part of him. It was in the way he intertwined your lives so completely that it was impossible to tell where his affection stopped and your happiness began. He never gave halfway—it was always all or nothing, and with you, it was always all. Being loved by Gojo meant being smothered in warmth, in laughter, in his ever-present need to remind you, in a thousand ways, that you were his whole world.

Gojo’s hands slipped under your sweatshirt, his touch warm and unhurried as his lips captured yours in a kiss that left no space for doubt or hesitation. His fingers brushed against your skin as he pushed the fabric higher, pausing just long enough for you to pull back and let him tug it over your head, tossing it carelessly onto the floor.

His mouth found your neck again, hot and deliberate, his hands steady as he guided you onto his lap at the edge of the bed, your legs wrapping around him like it was second nature. His fingers ghosted over your skin, tracing up your sides, brushing over your back, and then gliding back down in a rhythm that made your breath catch. His lips moved lower, trailing over your collarbone, leaving gentle nips that sent a shiver down your spine.

“I… did something,” you murmured, your voice soft as your hand combed through his snowy hair. His lips stilled, and he pulled back, blue eyes locking onto yours, curious and patient.

“For me?” he asked, his voice tinged with playful disbelief, though his expression softened as he searched your face. Gojo could wait forever when it came to you—especially when you were perched on his lap, his hands steady on your thighs, your cheeks flushed in a way that made his heart stutter.

You nodded, taking a breath, but instead of standing up or moving away, you shifted slightly, your fingers drifting to your ribs. Gojo’s gaze followed, and his playful smirk faded the moment he saw it—the delicate ink etched into your skin, just beneath your breast.

Gojo shifted forward, his hand hovering hesitantly before his fingertips brushed the delicate addition to your skin. The touch was so light you almost didn’t feel it, but then he did it again, this time with a little more pressure, as if grounding himself in the reality of what he was seeing. His other arm curled securely around your waist, pulling you close as his eyes focused on the small, black script etched into your ribs.

Just two lowercase letters—that was all. A single lowercase g and a single lowercase s. Simple, yet it was so much more than that. It was for him, a tattoo for him, because of your love for him. Or maybe, really, because of his love for you. No one loved you like Gojo Satoru did. It was the kind of love that made you believe it couldn’t have been an accident. You were certain you’d loved him in lifetimes past, and you’d love him again in lifetimes to come, because no one could love like this without practice.

His breath caught, and for once, he was speechless. His hand reached out, tentative and reverent, as his fingertips brushed over the tattoo again, slower this time. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, his wide-eyed wonder making your chest tighten.

“You…” he finally started, his voice soft and unsteady in a way you rarely heard. “You did this… for me?”

You nodded, the movement small and almost hesitant, your eyes searching his face for a reaction. His breath caught again, and his hand, still resting lightly on your waist, tightened just slightly, as if anchoring himself.

Gojo’s gaze dropped back to the tattoo, his fingertips brushing over the ink with a reverence that made your chest ache. He didn’t speak again for a long moment, his wide-eyed wonder making it clear that, for once, the words weren’t coming easily. Instead, he traced the delicate letters over and over, his touch warm and deliberate, like he was trying to etch the memory into himself as deeply as the ink was etched into your skin.

“I love you too,” he said finally, his voice low and uncharacteristically soft.

Too because that’s what this told him so clearly, without a single word spoken. Too because you’d marked yourself with his initials, a permanent reminder that no one else could ever hold your heart, though he’d always known that to be true. Too because no one had ever loved him as effortlessly or as completely as you did, and Gojo was determined to make sure you knew how deeply he cherished the way you loved him.

Gojo’s eyes lingered on the tattoo, his fingers tracing the delicate letters like he was trying to memorize every curve and line. Then, without a word, he leaned in and kissed you, soft and deliberate, pouring all his unspoken gratitude into the connection.

You kissed him back, your hands cradling his face as his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. It wasn’t until your fingertips brushed his cheek that you noticed the dampness there. Slowly, you pulled back, your breath catching at the sight of a tear sliding down his face.

A tender smile tugged at your lips as you brought your thumb to his cheek, brushing the tear away gently. “Baby,” you whispered, the word filled with so much warmth it made his breath hitch.

He let out a soft, shaky laugh, leaning into your touch, his hand still firm on your waist. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low but steady, full of meaning. “So much.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead before his lips found yours again, this time with more urgency. The kiss was deeper now, his grip on your waist tightening as you shifted in his lap. When your hips rolled against his, a low groan escaped him, muffled against your mouth, his hand pressing you down, encouraging the movement.

Gojo didn’t just love you—he showed you in every touch, every kiss, and every quiet moment. It was overwhelming, consuming, and so uniquely him, leaving no room for doubt that you were his everything.

Gojo’s lips trailed along your jaw, down your neck, and across your collarbone, unhurried and deliberate. He was never one to rush moments like this, savoring every touch, every kiss, every second he could have with you. His mouth moved lower, pressing soft kisses over your chest until he reached the tattoo. His fingers brushed against the ink as his lips hovered over it, and he mumbled something, his voice low and nearly inaudible.

You caught fragments—half-formed “I love you’s” that spilled out like they were too big to stay trapped in his chest. His lips pressed to the tattoo once, then again, and again, as if he was trying to make his love sink deeper into your skin, becoming another part of you.

“I need you, baby,” you murmured, your fingers threading through his soft hair as you gently pulled him back, reminding him that you were still in his lap, ready for more than just his kisses.

His lips curved into a smile against your skin before he looked up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I need you too,” he whispered, his voice rough and full of want.

You fumbled with your clothes together, hands reluctant to leave each other’s skin even as you tried to shed the layers between you. When you finally managed, Gojo pulled you back into his lap immediately, his hands finding your hips as though they belonged there. His lips were back on your neck, his fingers gently kneading your skin as he whispered, “I love you,” against your shoulder, over and over, like a mantra.

His hands guided you as you placed yours on his shoulders, lifting yourself just enough to let him align with you. His breath caught as you slowly sank down, your hips meeting his in a motion so deliberate it made his eyes flutter shut. For a moment, he didn’t move, letting himself feel everything—the warmth of your skin, the way you fit so perfectly with him, and the overwhelming love that seemed to buzz in the air between you.

When his eyes opened again, they met yours, pupils blown and lips parted, every ounce of his love for you written across his face. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his hands tightening on your hips, grounding himself in you as you both began to move together.

Gojo’s hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you in a slow, deliberate rhythm on his lap. His touch was strong but teasing, pulling you forward, then pressing you back, encouraging you to move exactly the way he wanted. His mouth was relentless, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he could reach.

His lips found yours first, the kiss deep and dizzying, stealing the breath from your lungs before he moved to your neck. His tongue and teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, pulling soft, broken moans from you that he drank up like they were his favorite sound. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and dripping with satisfaction.

He kissed lower, his lips brushing across your collarbones, lingering there in a way that made your head tilt back, your hands tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck. His groan vibrated against your skin, his hands starting to wander, no longer content to stay still.

His fingers skimmed over your thighs, kneading the soft flesh before sliding up your hips, pressing into your skin as if trying to leave a mark. They trailed to the small of your back, where his touch had you gasping and arching into him, then down your arms, brushing over your wrists and tangling with your hands in his hair.

“God, you feel so good,” he whispered, his tone rough and needy as his lips returned to yours, claiming you in another kiss that left no doubt about what he wanted.

All you could feel was him—his touch, his lips, the heat of his body pressed against yours—and all he seemed to want was more of you. The way he whispered your name, the way his hands gripped and slid over your skin, told you he wasn’t going to stop until every inch of you was his tonight.

“I love you, Satoru,” you whispered, your voice catching as his lips brushed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine that he undoubtedly felt.

His head dipped lower, his lips trailing over your skin until they found the tattoo that had already become his favorite part of you. He kissed it softly, reverently, like it was a sacred promise made just for him.

You didn’t have to say you loved him again—not in this lifetime. It was there, inked into your skin, a mark that said it all. It was a message for him and him alone, a declaration that your love was as endless as his, something he would carry with him forever.

His hands slid over your body, one brushing against the tattoo as if grounding himself in the reality of it, the other slipping between your bodies. His touch was slow but deliberate, fingers teasing until they coaxed a gasp from your lips. His lips returned to your neck, murmuring soft words about how beautiful you were, how perfect, how much he loved you.

“Satoru,” you moaned, your fingers gripping his shoulders as his movements sent you spiraling. You felt the tension building in his body, the way he was unraveling with you, and the realization only heightened your own release. His name tumbled from your lips like a prayer as he whispered yours against your skin, his voice low and breathless, grounding you both in this moment.

When it was over, you collapsed against him, your face pressed into the crook of his neck as you caught your breath. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice softer now, his lips brushing against your temple.

“I love you so much, Satoru,” you replied, your voice steady, filled with the weight of your emotions.

“I know,” he said, his tone serious but tender. It wasn’t arrogance—it was certainty. He understood the weight behind the two small letters forever etched into your skin. He knew this wasn’t a fleeting love or the kind you’d given to anyone before him.

Your love was his anchor, a safe harbor he could return to no matter what storms came his way. It was a promise, a forever mark that would hold him together when the world threatened to pull him apart.

And in return, Gojo Satoru loved you in every way he could—with his words, his touch, his whole being—but most of all, he loved the way you loved him.

CW/ TW. Explicit, Fem!Reader, P*ssy Job, Squirting, NSFW Twitter Link

AN. This man lives in my mind rent free...ugh

\\ Link //

Thinking about...Eren who's been rubbing his flushed dick through your slippery folds for what feels like hours. He's so mean, tapping the leaky head against your clit just to make his pre-cum and your slick splatter against your thighs—but never giving you what you want.

"Ren, fuck me," you whine, hips wriggling ineffectually beneath him.

He doesn't even look up at you when he answers: No, baby. Not until you make a mess—his gaze too focused on the way your puffy pussy lips enveloped his length.

The only reprieve he gives you is when his cock catches on your entrance after every other upstroke.

He leans down to whisper words of encouragement, his voice low and gravelly against the shell of your ear. "Can't wait to give this pretty little pussy my cock, isn't that right?"

"Y-yes," you whimper pitifully, fingernails digging into your thighs where he told you to keep them open. "Please, I want it so bad."

"I'll fill you up to the brim, baby. Promise. All you have to do is come for me."

Your pussy feels swollen and sensitive, and you think there's no way you'll be able to come again like this. But Eren focuses on your clit, his velvet head rubbing against you until you feel that tightening sensation in your tummy—a pressure that's fast and overwhelming.

Teary-eyed, your head tilts back into your fluffy pillows. " 'M gonna—oh!"

"Fuck, that's a good girl," he's relentless as you release all over his abdomen and thighs, the bed underneath you growing increasingly damp.

Eren growls out little obscenities under his breath that you barely understand. He's obsessed, his hands keeping your legs from closing to watch your pussy clench around nothing. He looks like a man possessed, sweaty hair clinging to his face that fell out of his bun, his once soft green eyes now entirely depthless.

He looks like he wants—

"More. Give me one more."

And your whiney complaints go ignored once again.

M. List

WELCOME TO THE WONDERLAND

main blog: @jxbsbokuto

NAVIGATION.

masterlist | rules | tags | requests

LATEST WORKS.

「JEALOUSY」 | Ushijima Wakatoshi

「ONE FOR THE ROAD」 | Suna Rintarou

「TOUCH」 | Sakusa Kiyoomi

HOW THEY HIT IT FROM THE BACK [BNHA]

dabi thrusts with the weight of his 5′9″ frame, each impactful collision of his body against yours concentrated with the heat of his quirk. every slap of either his hands or stomach against the swell of your ass, burns with the heat coursing through his veins. every new impact fills you with a searing warmth and a terrifying thrill for more. whines and moans fall from your lips, provoking the brutal nature of the anti-hero,s firm grim, anchoring you to the hilt of his sheathed cock. “be a good kitten and behave, don’t make daddy mad. you wouldn’t like me when i’m mad.” scarred hands tug the back of your neck, pulling you flush against his bare torso. arms wind around your bicep, yanking you back as your feet touch the air. “fuck, fuck,” dabi hisses into your ear, the heat of his body becoming an unbearable force as every touch bruises your sore ass. the male hoisting you into the air, forcing his cock to reach sensitive spots deep inside you groans against your ear, nibbling at your lobe. you twist your neck back to bury your lips against dabi’s, swallowing the pants accenting his expressive voice. “vixen,” you hisses again, “bad little bunny, aren’tcha?” placing you back on the bed, the villain stares down at where creamy rings of cum saturated his irritated cock.

bakugou smothers you beneath his weighted, chiseled figure. dick buried, you can hardly wiggle to accomodate to the girth and length. “take it easy princess.” he growls against the back of your neck. large, calloused hands that spread your arms beneath yours, immobilizing you to the mattress gravitate to the center of your spine, the other concentrated at the back of your neck. leaning back to admire your disheveled appearance, bakugou spreads your cheeks, smirking how greedy the skin of your entrance peels back before disappearing with his sinking length. “thats it, yes.” a hiss reaches the air, one hand fisted into your locks, slamming the lonely remainder in. you mewl sharply at the rough treatment, back bowing shyly as you tighten around the intrusive member. “fuck,” he exhales shamelessly, heated voice fading across your body. “conna let me cum inside baby? you want a baby like us?” focusing his weight again in slow, aching strokes of his cock inside you, the pro hero grunts as he stills, creamy seed burying in your tummy. “my, my, look how much you came.” the blonde taunts, fingers pushing the cum around at where it leaks from your connected bodies. 

aizawa pins your legs apart, sinking in slowly inch by inch. “good boy,” he praises to your sultry whimpers, uncertain if the whines burning off your lips are of pleasure or impatience. “you can take more, you have before.” he observes, watching as your hidden features flinch at the stretch. crimson visionares glare down at how your body nurses every inch of his cock, every inch aching to breed you.“just like that, like my pretty little slut.” warm, caring hands accented with scars from his former fights trace circles down your back, comforting your moans. “more, you’re asking for all of it darling?” a smirk edges into the male’s gravely voice, weak at the sensation of you clinging to every inch he’s offered. “no more complaining then, you can handle it.” pressing a small kiss to the back of your shoulder, aizawa’s body caresses yours, hands tastiing the tension in your curling fingers. “feel me when i’m giving myself to you babe. don’t you want to feel good?” you moan wordlessly at his gentle voice.

sero binds your limbs together, ignorant to your discomfort. “bitching, again baby?” the tape quirked male tuts, observing a small sliver of drool leaking from the edge of the cellophane covering over your lips. “what was that sweetheart?” a dark wordless smirk spreads over his teasing mouth, “i can’t hear anything but my little slut whining for more. that’s right, isn’t it?” tears slide from the corner of your eyes as the sticky substance of your essence saturates his burying cock. “fuck, you’re just the tightest little thing, aren’t you. always begging for more.”

todoroki eases the tip in slowly, matching the pace with the whimpers suggesting your pleasure. “here?” he mumbles into your throat, occupied hands teasing at your nipples. “you like when i fill you slowly, share myself with you?” the fire and ice quirked male bites lovingly into your shoulder, containing a moan as he bottoms out. “don’t move, please. don’t wanna cum too soon.”

cheerleader!reader riding nerd!toji in the locker room afterschool. You’d basically be shunned by your team if they ever found out you were fucking a nerd, but you just couldn’t resist him. He wasn’t an ordinary, stereotypical type of nerd. He was the type who kept to himself, very nonchalant, and only conversed with a few people, but he also was very smart, not to mention muscular (he must hit the gym in his free time). It’d be a shame if he didn’t put those muscles to use. You’re a bit of a slut, practically slept with the entire football team and none of them had you whipped like Toji. His big hands, his thick cock, his muscular arms, they all just fit so perfectly in or on you.

Your skirt is hiked up, panties pushed to the side as you ride him on the bench, the loud sound of skin clapping echoing through the locker room. “Nnngh—fuck! Your cock feels so good!” You pant, slamming your hips down on his, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “I swear—ah! Don’t tell anyone about this! I’ll make your life hell!” You threaten through your moans, biting down on your lip.

“I…I won’t.” He shakes his head, running his hands over your inner thighs, eyes glued to the way your pussy sinks down onto his glistening cock. “Fuck…your pussy feels too good,” he rasps, his hands reaching up to grip your waist.

“Don’t you dare cum in me! Mmmph, I can feel you throbbing!” Your mouth is saying one thing but your mind is saying another. You’d absolutely love to see his cum dripping from your pussy, but you can’t take any chances. But your hips keep on moving and your pussy keeps on clenching down on him like a vice, milking his cock.

“Shit, shit! S-slow down!” He tries to halt your movements, but you slap his hand out the way. “Stop! You’re gonna make me fucking cum! Ah! Nnngh!” His eyes squeezed shut as you went faster, bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat.

“I…I can’t…stop.” Your eyes glaze over, like your in a trance, your sloppy pussy squelching with each movement and before you know it toji dumps his hot load inside of you, the sheer feeling making you cum with him. “Oh my god! Yes!” You rock your hips back and forth, his cock massaging against your g-spot. Your body twitches above his for few moments, both of you catching your breath. “Keep your mouth shut about this.” You warn, slowly lifting your hips, his cum oozing out slowly. A soft whimper leaves your lips as you stand to your shaky feet, fixing your skirt. “Ugh now I need to get a plan b.”

“I told you to get off,” he plainly said. “Not my fault.”

𖧹katsuki bakugou x fem reader

𖧹smut; katsuki makes you record him eating you out.

𖧹1.0k

𖧹mdni

“just like that” he says, red eyes glancing at the phone in your hand, the camera pulled up as you zoom in on the way his lips ghost over your cunt. “make sure you hold it still."

he's scheduled for a two week long mission out of the country and he needs something to tie him over.

you try— really try to keep the camera steady, but the first swipe of his tongue through your slick folds has you gasping, your entire body jolting as the camera tilts upward, catching only the crown of his spiky blonde hair. his tongue is hot, firm, and deliberate as it drags from your entrance to your clit, circling it just enough to tease but not enough to satisfy.

"fuck," you breathe, scrambling to fix the angle. you bring the phone down, focusing on his sharp jaw and the way it moves as he devours you, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck softly. you can barely suppress the moan that builds in your throat, your head pressing back into the pillow as your chest heaves.

katsuki doesn't let up, his tongue swirling around your sensitive nub with maddening precision. the lewd sounds of his mouth- wet, sticky, and unrelenting-are captured perfectly by the microphone, the obscene audio only adding to your growing arousal.

you’re so lost in the pleasure that you forget what you’re supposed to be doing, letting the phone in your hand drop until nothing but darkness can be seen.

his mouth pulls away with an audible pop, and your hazy eyes snap open at the sudden loss of contact. his brow furrows, a sharp growl rumbling from his chest. "don't make me fucking repeat myself," he snaps, his voice gruff and commanding, but the fire in his gaze betrays just how much he's enjoying watching you squirm.

he reaches up, gripping your wrist with his calloused fingers to guide your hand—and the phone— back to where he wants it. "hold it steady, or i'll make you start all over."

you whimper softly at his words, the threat sending a shiver down your spine. his eyes flash with mischief as he watches you struggle to comply, your hand trembling with the effort to keep the camera on him.

"good," he mutters, dipping his head back down between your thighs. "now don't fuck it up again."

his tongue returns to your clit, flicking and swirling and sucking with a precision that has your thighs threatening to clamp tightly around his head. his blonde hair tickles your inner thighs and the phone shakes slightly.

"katsuki," you moan, your voice high-pitched and breathless. he growls in response, his eyes snapping up to meet yours through the lens of the phone. the intensity in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly. you look away.

"look at me," he commands, pulling back just enough to catch his breath. his lips are glistening, his face slick with your arousal as he nips at your inner thigh. "i want you to see this. I want you to remember who makes you fall apart like this when I'm gone."

his possessiveness ignites something inside you, and you nod weakly, barely able to process his words as his tongue returns to its assault. he's ruthless now, his movements faster and more deliberate, his lips and tongue working in tandem to push you closer to the edge. the knot in your stomach tightens, your legs beginning to shake as pleasure consumes you.

he chuckles against your core, the vibrations only adding to the unbearable pleasure. the wet sounds of his mouth working your over are obscene, loud enough to be caught on the recording. you can barely focus on keeping your composure, let alone holding the phone steady.

"you close, baby?" he asks, his voice muffled as he sucks your clit into his mouth. "I can feel you shaking. come on, let it go. let me hear those pretty fucking sounds as you cum on my tongue."

his words are your undoing. your back arches off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as your climax crashes over you. the phone trembles in your hand, your grip faltering as waves of pleasure roll through you. he doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to lap at you, dragging out your orgasm until you're left a trembling, gasping mess.

when he finally pulls away, his lips are curved into a smug grin, face coated in your arousal and he couldn't look happier. "good girl," he praises, his voice low and husky. he takes the phone from your weak grip, tapping the screen to review the footage with a satisfied hum. "this'll keep me entertained while I'm gone."

you collapse back onto the bed, utterly spent, chest heaving as you catch your breath. katsuki sets the phone on the nightstand, crawling up your body until his lips hover over yours. he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, before pulling back just enough to whisper against your mouth.

"don't think we're done yet," he murmurs, his tone dark and teasing. "i've got a whole week to make up for. might as well record me fucking that tight little pussy next."

his words make your breath hitch, and you can't help the shiver that runs through you as he smirks, his hands already roaming your body in preparation for round two.