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tojjist · 2 months

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NANAMI is 100% a spanker.

He loves your ass. He could just stare at you for hours on end, no matter what you’re wearing at the time. Be it a pencil skirt, yoga pants, sport shorts or a dress. He could just stand there and watch you move, glutes moving up and down, hips swaying. It makes him swoon.

And while he could stand and stare, he’d much rather feel it up against his palm. He’d slap your buttocks once he walks past you, soft and teasing. Depending on your response the situation elevates.

More times than not you find yourself sprawled out on his lap, his hands colliding with the skin multiple times over until he can feel it get warmer. His ears are immune to your cries,gasping at the force that comes with the loud clapping. Sometimes he’d stop to tease your clit gently, fingertips rubbing the bundle of nerves to hear a soft moan from you or have you tighten your shaking thighs over his palm. But it’s not too long before his hand is swinging in the air and against your reddened ass.

At some other occasions, he finds himself subconsciously feeling your ass in the morning. His large hands explore the soft flesh, squishing it tightly in his palm and giving it light slaps every so often.

GOJO, on the other hand, is a hair puller.

Honestly, there is no specific reason that he likes to pull your hair so much. Mostly he just likes the feeling of your hair filling into his fist, no matter the length of it, locks running between his fingers. It's an oddly satisfying to him .

He’s very random with it, too. Satoru would approach you while doing the dishes, one second his arms are wrapped lovingly around your waist, and the next his hand fists as much as it can of your hair and tugs at it “A-a- ah- Satoru– let go, seriously,” You’d grumble, face scrunched at the suddenness of it. “Mm, Gotta ask nicely, baby,” his hand continues to grab your hair tightly. Judging by the amused smirk on his face, he’s just messing around. Must get a kick out of it.

It’s another reason he loves seeing you on your knees before him. Your mouth consumes so much of his length, hands pumping whatever your mouth couldn’t fit in. All Satoru has to do is sit back, feel good, and pull at your hair. It’s easy control. And Satoru loves this control, as if steering your head however he likes. Not that your skilled mouth needs direction.

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tojjist · 8 months

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bakugo's daughter is his little treasure.

if he's not on patrol, she's with him everywhere. he just can't help wanting to show his little girl the entire world.

he could be getting new blankets or dropping somebody off, for all he knows his princess has to be with him, attached to the hip at every given opportunity.

she definitely teams up with you, though. she's a mommy's girl as much as she's daddy's. even when she's just barely began saying a few coherent words, she still walks her way and stands next to you whenever both you and katsuki call her at the same time.

but nothing- nothing-gets katsuki happier than when he's out in public and his girl begins grabbing at any merch she sees of him — could be a shirt, a poster, a mug, a toy. any merch of any kind. often, when her little hands meet the object of her choice, she'd start to giggle as she says "dada," looking between her soft-gazed father and whatever has him on it.

"yeah? that's me, that's right," the older blonde chuckled, gripping his daughter in his arms as she made grabby hands at a billboard with her dad on it, giving him the title of the #1 hero of japan. her soft fists kept clenching and opening, wide-eyed as she looks at her dad then at the screen.

"dada," she babbled in disbelief, then gasped. "dada!"

"yes, that's dada over there," katsuki nodded. he would've been embarrassed at his use of such a term if he weren't too engulfed in just how smart his little girl is. "and you're gonna grow up and be just like him, right?"

"dada," she looked at him, her face serious although drool formed at the sides of her mouth from blabbering so much with her little mouth. "mama..?"

he laughed as the way her small head turned, eyes looking for her beloved mother. the hero dynamight has never loved one like this little girl in his arms. never had he felt warmth like when she speaks his name and calls him her silly little 'dada'.

"mommy's at home," he smiled softly. "we'll get her dinner then go home, okay?"

"hoo?" she cooed, repeating what she could after her dad. katsuki felt so much warmth he could cry.

"mhm, home," he nodded with a soft smile. "mommy will give you a brother soon, she needs good food."

this little girl was the best gift you've ever given katsuki. and katsuki was a greedy man, he wanted another one. he'd take as many as you're willing to give.

#bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bnha fluff #mha bluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #syd.txt #syd.writes

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tojjist · 1 month

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𝐇𝐔𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ↳ s. gojo

in which : even the strongest wants some love, so please give it to him! contains : slightly suggestive, so much fluff, extremely self indulgent

SATORU never realized how touch starved he is. He never even thought about it. It simply didn't occur to him that physical contact actually means something.

He's seen people doing it before, on more occasions than he can count. But Satoru never understood the appeal of being in such proximity to someone you can count the pores on their face. Not that he has to worry about that, anyway.

And truly, ignorance is a gift.

It only took one hug from you to change Satoru's world. It took one short embrace, a slight whiff of your subtle perfume for him on your third date to become addicted.

Satoru never lacked anything. He' been served everything he desires on a silver spoon his entire life; wealth, care, power. He's always been privileged. So to crave something he simply can't receive whenever he wants is a strange feeling.

The way he steals little touches, helping you with your jacket, placing his hand on the small of your back, brushing away your hair from your face, and so much more, does not go unnoticed by you. It's not in anyway unpleasant, and you're always sure to give him an encouraging reaction.

It's surprising to see his need for this kind of affection. He tries his best to not come off as creepy or too needy, but he doesn't know what he looks like and what he should do.

He never understands what's so addicting about the simple feeling of you. Is it your smell? Or the warmth you provide? He's content just keeping you in his hold forever.

What takes you aback even more is how skilled he is at sex. You can tell he's been with countless women just by a simple stroke of his hand or a thrust of his hips. Yet, he seems so unsure how to hold you after, feeling as if anything he does would come off wrong.

He comes to you one day distorted, asking to meet up on a whim. He says he really just wants to see you but you know better. You see the slightly distracted look in his eyes, you notice the way his fingers fidget, and the way his feet tap against the tile of the coffeeshop. He’s nervous you can tell, but you don’t understand why as he sounded so fine this morning when he called.

“Hey,” you whisper to him, calling for his attention. His blue eyes immediately find your eyes, trying his best to seem normal.

“Yeah?” Is what Satoru manages as he gathers himself the best he could. “What’s wrong? Do you want to add something else?”

You hold back a chuckle. He’s so different from all the other people you know. In a way, it’s part of his charm. But it also makes him so hard to understand.

“Are you okay?” It’s a simple question, but one that confuses him all the same. He feels a warm presence over the back of his hand. When Satoru looks down, he sees that you have placed your palm over his. It’s calming. It’s sweet. It’s so comforting he doesn’t know what to say.

“Be my girlfriend.”

It’s a demand. He’s not asking, he’s telling you. He had this perfect plan, but your touch ruined everything. Your touch weakened him. He hates you for it. He loves you so much.

It takes him time, and you give him it, to get accustomed to those touches. He learns what to do and when to do it. And you give him all the love he needs. He’s like a little puppy, still discovering right from wrong.

He holds you every night like there is no tomorrow, pampering you and spoiling you with kisses because he can. He begs you to stay in his embrace every morning, even when the duties that should be attended are his and not your own. There is never too little time when it comes to you. He’d put the world on hold for a few more moments of you.

Sometimes he questions if it’s really okay. Should he, as a man, let you make him this vulnerable? It’s not like there’s a guide for these things. Even if there was, he wouldn’t be caught dead reading one.

But those thoughts only last so long. It takes one kiss from you to forget. To ignore. To not care anymore. Because what is he if not a slave to your embrace? Satoru only finds himself at peace when in your arms. For all he cares, the world could burn, as long as you just hug the man.

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tojjist · 4 months

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but!! nanami's hands are so big!!

they're so warm and lovely. even if rough to touch, since that happens when he works so much. at least kento makes sure to be gentle with you! he's so soft and sweet, holding you by the waist while you make food, massaging your back after a long day, bringing your face closer to his while he wants to kiss you, caressing your hand while you're having a movie night at home.

speaking of movie nights at home, kento hates spending too long watching something! he'd much rather do something useful! something that maybe involves his hands.

okay, maybe he isn't always gentle with you... sometimes he's really mean, slapping your ass while you're spread over his lap. nothing on tv could be more interesting to him than this; you're a mess, already crying because fuck,, it hurts.

but nanami makes sure to reward his baby after. he'd slip his fingers into your pretty panties, rough, warm digits finding their way in before gently rubbing your long-forgotten sensitive bud. circular at first, until you're a begging mess. then he'd slip a single finger inside, the other following right after. his fingers are a little big. maybe even too big. but hey, at least he set the pace right!

and he'll keep going for long too, until you come. once, twice, and all the way until your body can't no more. what a pretty little doll you are! overstimulated too soon? he didn't even take his cock out yet..

#syd.writes #syd.nsf #nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader smut #kento nanami #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader fluff

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tojjist · 4 months

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“with you?”

the way he snorts at your suggestion is almost offensive. he shakes his head as if the simple thought of it is absurd.

“what do you mean with me? you got a problem with me?” you scoff, bumping your shoulder into his. “what's wrong with me, mister?”

“i could name about 20 things wrong with you, ma'am,” he teases back, tugging at your shirt. “let's start with this. it should be on the floor.”

it's not long before the shirt is on the floor. along with the rest of your clothes.

GOJO SATORU, rensuke kunigami, KAEYA ALBERICH, geto suguru, kishibe, HIROFUMI YOSHIDA, mikage reo, (ooc) todoroki shoto

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tojjist · 8 months

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thinking about ex husband! nagi, who still visits to play with the kids. to see his children happy in their home.

thinking about ex husband! nagi, whose children visit every weekend, but he still insists on coming on tuesdays, knowing tuesday is your day off. who always says that "it's okay, i'm only staying a few hours for the children, honey," using the same petname you've asked him so many times to stop using.

thinking about ex husband! nagi, who tells the children he can't stay for too long, in hopes they beg their mommy to "let daddy stay home, just for the night"

thinking about ex husband! nagi, whose plan worked like a charm.

ex husband! nagi, who somehow finds his way back into your bed. who tucks the kids in their bed with goodnight kisses and, magically, he's on top of you. again.

you tell him you shouldn't be doing this, that the kids are still up and- fuck, you really shouldn't be fucking your ex husband.

but nagi knows you. he knows your body all too well. he knows where to touch to make you gasp, where to stroke to elicit these little gasps that make his day. or, well, his night.

and oh, nagi know how to make you feel so good.

"fuck- seishiro-" your breath came in short gasps, one hand gripping his wrist, the other grasping his shoulder. you could feel the sting of the cold metal ring he wore against your walls, tight cunt stretched out with his the magical work of his fingers.

"fuck.. baby.. i fucking missed this," his breath came into contact with your neck, lightly sweating at the heat of your bodies. "missed your sweet pussy. y' like that, hm? moan f'me, pretty."

when you don't oblige, his fingers push a little harder. thrust a little faster. go in a little further so they feel that sweet spot where you carve attention the most. it makes you moan aloud, earning a satisfied grin from him. you feel the heat rush up your face in embarrassment at the situation, one of the kids could walk in on you two at any given minute. and you don't assume nagi has locked the door.

"yes baby, just like that," he huffs a soft breath into your ear, intensifying the pleasure. "cum on my fingers baby, mhm? wanna see you make a mess on these pretty sheets"

his fingers remain relentless, pushing you further towards ecstasy with each thrust. your hips push in rhythm with his wrist, eyes shut and breath heavy. and nagi is an insistent man, his determination to make you come undone on his pale fingers unwavering. each thrust faster than the previous.

and you do.

you see stars, calling his name softly after each hissed breath. sucking air in, he feels your approaching orgasm. it's a melody to hear, an a sight to see. there's nothing nagi enjoys watching than the way your eyebrows crease in the space between and your mouth fall agape in soft pleas and whimpers.

"yes, yes, just like that," he encourages you, "just like that, that's a good girl."

#syd.writes #syd.nsf #blue lock #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #nagi x reader #nagi smut #nagi #nagi seishiro

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tojjist · 8 months

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aftercare with gojo

warnings: suggestive. not proof read. literally just gojominors, ageless and blank blogs dni

there is no doubt in me that gojo fucks like a god.

he lies a lot, but no lie is bigger than the “i'll be gentle” he gives you before your session. at some point you just stopped expecting him to keep his word.

so he's always left with you in his bed; sore legs, fucked out, and barely able to keep your breathing straight.

"fuck, sat', can't feel my legs." "means i must've done something right"

he'll get you a wet towel to wipe off the mess he's made. sometimes he'd be a little more rough than necessary, trying to be thorough. but instead he gets kicked in the face by your foot.

gojo always has a cup of ginger for your sore throat. he knows exactly how much honey to add to sweeten it to your preference, if at all. but if you're too whiney after sex chances are he threatens to spill it on you.

cuddles are so obviously mandatory. if not for you, then for him. he'd kiss you until you can't breathe, making sure you feel his love through and through. you once told him he's going to be the death of you and ever since it became his life mission to ensure that's the case.

"mm, you're so sweet after sex, sat'."

"only for you, baby girl."

it's unironic, by the way. he genuinely thinks it's attractive of him to call you baby girl.

gojo satoru fucks like a god. but after sex he's a fool in love. he intends on letting you know that sex with you isn't just sex; it's a remedy to mold his rotten wounds. it's love like he's never experienced before.

#Gojo smut #Gojo x reader #Gojo satoru #Gojo satoru x reader #Gojo satoru smut #Gojo satoru x reader smut #Gojo fluff #Gojo x reader fluff #Gojo satori fluff #syd.writes #Syd.nsf #Jjk x reader #Jjk fluff #Jjk smut

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tojjist · 4 months

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trueform! sukuna lives in my head rent-free. he's not an asshole, that's an understatement. there's no such thing as words that describe how absolutely horrific he is. he doesn't see the beauty in anything, nothing needs to be treated different. the entire world is ugly. but even sukuna has a weakness right? no. wrong. BUT! sukuna is capable of liking and disliking! and he really, really likes the sight of your face! it's pleasing, really! pretty eyes, pretty lips, pretty cheeks! he gets mad if you bow down too much. remember to keep your face up just enough for him to see.

sukuna prefers your face best when your crying! watery eyes, lips agape, stuffed cheeks, taking in his cock like a good little slut. really, you're his prefect little ragdoll! even when the makeup you used to look pretty for him is ruined, and even when you're getting sloppier at what you're doing, and even when your hair is messed up from his grip! what a pretty sight!

#syd.nsf #syd.writes #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna smut

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tojjist · 4 months

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“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination.

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant.

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly.

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual, that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words.

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought.

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17.

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact.

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances.

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store.

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,” he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late.

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath.

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response.

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

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tojjist · 4 months

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thinking about being sukuna's devoted half-curse follower from the very beginning.

but somehow being quiet and living away from humans to keep your peace once sukuna is taken down and making a shrine for him in the little place you chose to live in, a little semblance of humanity shown towards the man who was anything but human. you keep away all cursed spirits around so they don't cause trouble and jujutsu sorcerers don't come your way.

then thousands of years later somehow he manages to find you and is surprised to see you haven't changed a bit, still peaceful and unharmful which kind of pisses him off. he's definitely offended by the shrine but keeps it to himself.

sukuna acknowledges your delight to see him but doesn't stay around for too long, only showing up every once in a while tomake sure you're alive and good, fucks your half-human body good just to make sure you remember how it felt to have him inside you, bullying your tight walls over and over again, pulling orgasm after orgasm until your pussy is molded into shape.

sukuna is a busy man and he has a yet long way to achieve his goals. but he makes sure to come back to you. maybe one day he'd be able to keep you around him at all times like a good little pet. until then, stay put, he'll stop by soon. hopefully

#syd.txt #syd.writes #syd.nsf #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader smut

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tojjist · 4 months

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can't stop thinking about how fancy gojo is. like,, that man always wears only the finest brands. his receipts always look like phone numbers but he doesn't even glance at them. even his clan are always like ??? damn okay. he always eats at the most expensive restaurants, i really doubt he experienced fast food before geto and shoko happened. and he loved it so much (that's why he broke up w suguru in front of kfc </3).

but it's not like he's absolutely clueless.. see, gojo is careless not stupid he knows how special these things are and that's why he makes sure his gifts to you are always branded and of the finest quality. that's the only way to gift his baby! it takes a while of you trying to get used to it without feeling like you owe him (which you always do), but soon you realize that's just how gojo is expressing your importance to him. so please, accept these gifts with a smile and a kiss!

#BOYCOTT KFC #i miss gojo #bring him back pls i need to see him #syd.writes #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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tojjist · 4 months

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going to a ball with gojo is a messy experience

he doesn't want to wear a suit. and when he puts one on that doesn't look right he doesn't want to take it off.

he buys your dress, having it delivered to you the night before. but it's entirely too inappropriate for the occasion. you appreciate the sentiment so you don't complain to him. it's an expensive dress as is.

when he enters the room to find you in another dress he looks almost too disappointed. you tell him it just didn't fit. but he already knows you're lying because that's your exact size. you assure him that you loved the dress and that, like all his gifts, it's truly extraordinary. but it just didn't fit.

he doesn't dwell on it because you look good anyway. so good he's tempted to skip the ball and keep you to himself for the night.

what happens isn't entirely too different anyway, since his clinginess the entire time made it next to impossible to socialize. or maybe it's just the way he glared at people when you're not looking, shooing them away because your attention is simply reserved. it's an unspoken rule: your attention belongs to him. especially when you're looking this good.

when you've had enough fun -to his standards anyway- he pulls you aside, away from everyone else. you're not too surprised. neither are you displeased with him. the place was getting too boring anyway.

not too long after you're the one leading the way out. Your friend almost approaches you to ask why you're leaving so soon, but she knew better as the lipstick stains on satoru's face answer her question.

the car ride home is full of anticipation, his hand resting on your thigh. satoru complains about the fabric of your dress being in the way, and he swears his heart rose up to his throat when you suggest he just ‘takes it off’ if it's bothering him too much.

he probably could, and the backseat suddenly looks too good. but he remains patient, knowing tonight will be very much worth the wait.

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tojjist · 8 months

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wanna kiss the scar on toji's lips so bad like?

toji has always been more or less insecure about the scar on his lips. and saying toji fushiguro is insecure means it's really bad because that man's ego's bigger than the sun.

he always thought it scares people off. and although he doesn't really mind too much, sometimes he's nervous it just gets in his way. toji was nervous that if he had kids it would scare them. that when he kisses the woman he loves - or well, would love, since he is yet to meet her - it would be rough and she'd avoid kissing him. he wouldn't want that. no one would.

toji took good care of the scar, putting what he could afford of lotions on it, making sure to not pick on it albeit the temptations. god, it was so annoying.

but then you came along.

you kissed toji so many times he forgot the taste of sorrow. soft lips holding his chapped ones in an embrace full of love.

he once asked, out of curiosity, what you thought of the scar. he was genuinely nervous, jokingly asking if you'd like him to hide it with makeup.

but you didn't hesitate to pull his face into a soft kiss, this time aimed at the very far corner of his lips. his eyes widened and he was confused. toji tried to play it off, but he was clearly surprised when you told him that you 'just love' his scar. that you'd 'kiss it day and night and at every opportunity' as long as he's okay with it.

toji wore his scar with pride then, smiling every time he glances at the mirror to see it. he now looks forward for your kisses more than anything else, smothering his face with soft kisses then moving so your lips could brush against that little soft scar.

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader fluff #toji fluff #toji fushiguro fluff #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji #fushiguro x reader #syd.writes

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tojjist · 8 months

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"are you real?"

it's more thought than a question, a soft whisper against the soothing silence of the night as his calloused fingers tip over the skin of your back. his digits remain careful, counting each vertebra as they trace the length of your spine.

"i'd like to believe so," a soft giggle escapes you, and the sound makes his heart skip a beat as his eyes find yours, searching for the source of the joyous vibration, as if on instinct. "do you think i'm real?"

he quirks a dark brow, unsure if there's a right answer. toji's eyes search your own for guidance, struggling to not lose himself in their gaze.

"you feel real," the raven haired man shrugs, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear gently. you're glass to him, and he's wasting no effort making sure every movement is deliberate as to not break you. "so yes, i guess."

liar. he doesn't. how could you possibly be real? you came into his life right when he needed, an angel dressed as one of his own, your every aspect perfect. toji can't believe you're real — but he's never experienced something as real as you.

"i'm glad you do," your smile warms his heart, fingers coming into contact with the gruff of his jaw. toji is now sure, nothing has ever felt this real. he can't be imagining, for his brain has long since rotted with blood and battle, it can't fathom or make up something quite as perfect as you.

and he was toji the evil, toji the selfish, toji the liar, toji the killer, toji the stained with a dark past and the burdened with the weight of many lives taken by his own hands.

yet he crumbles.

like a sand castle stepped on, the fort he's built to isolate himself was invaded by you, walls breaking down at the mere sound of you. he's a prisoner and it's your touch that's got him chained.

toji has never felt something so real as the love of you.

"good night," you tell him, tucking your head into his bare chest with a yawn.

he didn't want to say it back, senses aching for more of you — and the night is young. but he's a slave at your mercy, ready to serve as you please. so when you end the night with a gentle kiss on his collarbone, he's left with no choice but to pull you closer, hands nestled on either of your sides.

"g'night," he says, lips finding solace on the top of your head, leaving a chaste kiss to the locks of hair.

his nose remains hidden between the layers of hair on your head — breathing you in, breathing you out. he is certain; you are real. you are his reality.

likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

#syd.writes #toji #toji fushiguro #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji fushiguro fluff #toji x reader fluff #toji fushiguro x reader fluff

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tojjist · 8 months

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gojo loves to see you full of his cum.

it's irresistible. he could go for three rounds straight and the minute you get up to put on your underwear, his white load oozing onto your thighs, he's going for round four no doubt.

you just look so, so sweet like that, your sanity fucked out as he pounds into you stupid. you take it all in, warm gummy walls taking in every drop of seed he has to offer. just the thought of how good you’re being gets him hard all over again. he can't get enough. he'll fill you up over and over and over.

you can wiggle, crying that you ‘can’t do it no more,’ but satoru knows you're a good girl. you won’t deny him another round. not when he's overstimulating you so, so good.

“fuck, baby,” his grunts grew louder. you could only pray the neighbors aren’t home. “y’feel so good. taking it all in like- ngh- a fucking good girl”

his pace only seems to accelerate. your legs were long numbed and your clit overstimulated. yet, the way he rubs on your sensitive but with the calloused thumb of his drives you into further ecstasy.

at some point you couldn't even babble his name any longer, drooling as should a baby. your fingernails dug into his back further, eliciting another groan from his puffy lips. he was raining sweat, droplets of salty liquid dripping from his white locks.

he looks striking.

“fuck,” he grunts again. “’m gonna cum, baby. take it all in, hm?”

“sa-suh-satoru!” you tried your best to form a coherent word. your head has long let consciousness slip away as it gripped into nothing but the pleasure of his harsh pounds. “cl-close-!”

the way your walls tightened around him was just the missing piece for his orgasm. it could be the fifth of the night. he’s long lost count.

“g- agh- attagirl, yes, yes,” his breath became shakier as his senses tingled with release. suddenly he was so aware of everything yet of nothing at all. his brows knotted together as he focused on keeping the rhythm of his thirsts together. “oh- baby i-”

his release hit almost too hard, shooting ribbons of white into your inside as his tip bullied your cervix. he couldn't think of anything but you. how good you felt. how well you took him.

he rode out the intense orgasm, his hips in sync with your loud moans. your pussy was really a gateway to heaven.

#Syd.writes #Syd.nsf #Jjk #Gojo #Satoru gojo #Gojo satoru #Jujutsu kaisen #Jjk x reader #Jjj x reader smut #Jjk smut #Gojo smut #Gojo x reader #Gojo x reader smut

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tojjist · 8 months

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𝗷𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 - 𝗕. 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝗲𝗶

barou shoei x fem! reader

tags: vaginal sex, ooc, worship, dub-con (kinda), semi-public sex, barou w a boner, mentions of masturbation, breeding, unprotected sex, one mention of the pill, praise, encouragement, creampie

minors, ageless, and blank blogs dni

i just know barou is packin’.

he’s a big boy, in more ways than one.

it’s bothersome sometimes, really. the way his shorts would perk a little more upward than he likes when you’re running around the field in that pretty little skirt of yours, talking and laughing to the other boys.

or when you hand him the water bottle, fingers brushing against his fingers. it’s as if your perfume hasn’t already taken a toll on him, making him a little lightheaded as he tries so hard to keep his composure. there is no way it isn’t intentional, especially the way your eyes look at his so innocently, waiting for him to give you the right reaction.

barou gets especially hard when you wear nails that match with your outfit. he can’t stop himself from thinking just how far can these nails dig into his back? how easy is it to rip off the clothes?

yeah, and everyone knows. everyone noticed the way his breath catches, the way his body tenses, and the way his shorts lift a little upwards; signaling at some feelings growing inside him.

except you, you were the only one who didn’t know. you were so innocent and so sweet and so, so fucking tempting.

or maybe you knew. because there is no way you just happen to drop whatever is in your hand more than most times he walks behind you, bending over just enough to give him a painfully short view of your pretty panties.

and oh those pretty panties, clinging onto all the parts he wants uncovered, fabric dipping softly at the folds. he could almost trace them with his eyes if you jus-

then you abruptly stand up. he almost groans in protest, taking a step back to stop himself from pushing you back down. god— the adrenaline courses through his veins excitedly at just the thought

he’d tell himself to not look, but he looks anyway. he stares, as you stand up gracefully and his cock is twitching in his briefs, begging for some attention. he’d tell himself to pull it together.

but he doesn’t anyway.

it doesn’t take too long, almost too fast to process.

“B-Barou-ku-“

he tastes like mint and… lust.

he doesn’t ask. none of his senses were functioning as they should be now. everything was solely focused on you. you were now in a janitor room, the door cracked open just a little, barely enough to get a line of light through. you could be out in the hallway for all he cares. barou wasn't one to think of these trivial details, especially when you're there for him to handle.

barou is the king. and a woman like you deserves to be no where but at his side, a queen for him to worship and cherish and claim.

he pulls away, and without a second thought begins to unbutton your shirt. he was rough, and a few buttons fall to the ground. you try to call him but once again his mouth finds yours.

one of his hands was still undoing the stupid shirt, this time a little softer, while the other was curled in your hair, pulling you closer.

your shirt is off, and soon your hands find the back of his neck. closer.

you pull away, face adorned with a blush he didn't realize he needed to see so much. a glistering string or salvia connects you two, and barou's insides grumble with need. he wants more of this connection. closer.

he kneels before you, pulling the skirt you wore down delicately. he could deal with losing the shirt, but he can't rip your skirt off too.

his lips find the plush of your thighs, trailing soft kisses down the skin and worshipping every inch he could. he relished the way your legs shake just a little. he knows what you want, even if you won't say it.

"barou- b-barou- nhngh- suh-slow d-down-!"

but he can't slow down, not when you're taking him all in so good like that. god- this pussy was made for him. his hips thrust fast, the stimulation almost causing your legs to buckle underneath you. but he holds you firm; rough, calloused fingers glued to your stomach to keep you standing for him.

barou didn't talk all too much on a regular bases, and sex most definitely wasn't an exception. but the way he grunts into your ear, breath battered, speaks enough of how good your making him feel.

"quiet down," it's more of a grumble. "don't wan' everyone else hearing yer' pretty moans."

he bullied himself inside your tight cunt. despite your protests, saying it's too big and you're not on the pill, he continued his assault on your perfect insides, molding it into shape so you'll always remember just how good it felt.

"barou- ah-" you moan, fingers clutching into what must be a shelf as you feel sanity begin to slip out of your view little by little as you felt the knot forming in your stomach. barou felt so fucking good. much better than your toys. he's exceeded your imagination, fingers tracing all the places you didn't even know were right.

"feels good, hmm, pretty girl?" he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe. "like how i stretch you out? come on me, yeah? let me feel you come undone"

his hips picked up their pace, making even more lewd noises. the sound of skin slapping against skin was a melody to both of you. it was his skin against yours, almost too good to bear. barou knew this was always meant to be. you were always the perfect girl for him.

your cunt begins to tighten around him, causing a louder groan to escape his hoarse throat. you mewled that your close, calling his name like it's the only word you know.

as if to prove his points, your release came almost in sync with his, walls clamping onto him for dear life. it was a rhythm he's so willing to get used to. a pleasure he's never known before. the way you tremble and beg beneath him as he cums, milking his cock like you needed it.

his girth almost hurt, but it hurt so fucking good. he rode out your orgasm, panting as his sticky webs paint your insides white.

panting, he helps you stand up, pulling out. the movement made him wince just a little, exposing his length to the cold air of the room.

your hands remain clung onto the shelf, standing upright as you catch your breath. barou took his jacket off the floor, putting it over your shoulders. it was almost funny. this doesn't cover anything. if it covered the skin of yours, it definitely won't cover for the obviousness of the situation. everyone will know.

and barou didn't exactly mind that all to much

#syd.nsf #syd.writes #barou shouei #barou x reader #barou smut #barou shoei x reader #barou shoei smut #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk smut #bllk barou #shoei barou x reader

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