#i wanna be his sugar baby
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lord forgive me for i am about to sin 🙏🙏




i truly believe that during this specific era, james had the biggest size kink. so big it would drive him feral.
he’s just obsessed with making you seem small just so that he could take care of you in every way possible. he loves how his large hands can cover up almost your entire torso when he’s holding you, fucking into you.
he loves seeing his bulge appear in your stomach. it just makes him fuck you even deeper, wanting to see how big the bulge could get. or the way he rests his elbows on each side of you, trapping you and you try to claw onto him.
whenever you suck him off, he always has to bring his cock to your face, comparing you to him as he wonders how the fuck were you supposed to put all that in your mouth?? he spits over your lips, bringing his hand down to grab your jaw, forcing your mouth open with his thumb, making you suck on it. after he pulls his thumb out, he’d bring his tip, smearing his precum against your lips before motioning for you to open your mouth, tapping his cock on your tongue.
he couldn’t wait anymore, so without any warning, he thrusts himself into your mouth, making you gag. he sees the mark of your lipstick near his base, he lets out a breathy moan. you bring up both of your hands to stroke him, wanting him to feel as good as possible. he loves pulling out paint your face, wanting to make you look as messy as possible with your unruly hair and runny mascara and smeared lipstick. he spreads his cum all over your face, feeding some of it to you.
he remembers the time you wanted to be the one on top for once. you had never tried this position with him yet. he was so gentle, murmuring sweet words of encouragement. you were sat on top of him, knees on each side as you stroke his cock. when you’re ready, he has his hands on your hips, lifting you so he could set you on his dick very slowly. the sight was almost comedic, seeing your eyes pop out as you hiss from the stretch.
“it’s okay, sweet girl, take your time.”
you whine and whimper when you finally take all of him, causing james to groan as he brings his hand to the bulge that appeared in your stomach, rubbing his hand there and around your tummy. you were so tight around him, and he tried his hardest to resist the urge from fucking you at an inhuman pace, but with the way you were clenching around him, he couldn’t take it slow much longer.
he got up from the couch, effortlessly carrying you with him as he cradled you with one arm, and the other rests beside your head against the wall as he fucks mercilessly into you. you cry out, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you muffle the sounds of your whines into the crook of his neck. it didn’t take long for the both of you to cum. he brings the hand that was resting against the wall and uses it to stroke your hair, mumbling sweet words as he peppers you kisses,
“you did so good for me, princess. i didn’t hurt you, did i?�� he coos.
he continues to baby you, setting you on the couch to clean the cum from his thighs and from you. he lays down on the couch next to you, bringing you into his arms as you both fall asleep, his arm wrapping around the entirety of you.
this absolutely sucked i’m sorry but i just needed to get this out of my system.
#JAMES WITH A MOWHAWK DJDHRJSHDJ#HES SO YUMMY#i wanna be his sugar baby#or the bimbo gf that everyone hates#i need him so bad it’s actually concerning#dilf james#james hetfield#metallica#james hetfield smut#metallica smut#james hetfield fanfic#james hetfield metallica#james hetfield x reader#papa het
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i know we all hear about sugar daddy bruce wayne but he is literally so hot to me like. hes a silver fox first off. and idec bruce wayne eats pussy, and i mean EATS. like he’s holding on to your thighs, hand pressed to your stomach so you don’t move too much, he’s moaning into your pussy and you’ve already cum 3 times but he’s not done.
and then when he fucks!! first of all he is a doggystyle champion i don’t even care. he’s got you pressed all the way down, eyes fixated on that arch in your back and he’s got a slick little smile on his face while you’re moaning out “oh cmon baby, you can take it.. you always take it so good, don’t you?” and he pulls you up to his chest and tells you to answer him, but you’re still fucked out and your response is dazed at best “yes daddy…. ‘m so good” and he kisses your neck, muttering about how he’s gonna get you that bag you’ve been asking for.
#. . . curated by mara#black!fem!reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x black!reader#bruce wayne smut#i wanna be his sugar baby. sighs
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Crocodile is 100% without a doubt a power bottom. He needs to be in control, but sex is never the same if he's not getting his guts re-arranged. He likes degrading his partners too, his favorite insult is calling his partners useless and toys to him, "If it weren't for this cock, I'd have you beheaded for so much as thinking about me." He'd growl as he bounces on his partners cock.
Mihawk can go from power bottom to pillow princess, depending on how and with whom he's annoyed. If he's pissed off at you, you're getting strung up and ridden until he's had his fill, your comfort be damned. If he's pissed off at zoro or perona, he's pulling you on top of him and demanding you get to work. While Mihawk likes being on the receiving end, there's no question as to who is the dominant partner. If you so much as try to disobey, Mihawk will make sure you know what sadist really means.
I'm a full believer that Shanks likes getting fucked, but he likes pleasing whoever he's in bed with more. So, he leans more towards the middle as a switch and service top. Definitely has a daddy kink, but you can drive him absolutely insane if you call him daddy while you're fucking him. Might be into corruption, neither of us know. All Shanks knows is that he likes when you get all whiny and submissive while you're balls deep in his ass.
Doflamingo is a fucking FREAK!!! There's no telling with him. He goes from sadistic top, to whiny bottom so fast it'll give you whiplash. DEFINETLY has a corruption kink, and a size kink, and a whole bunch of other nasty kinks. He wants to do EVERYTHING with you, like a big fucking pervert.
#⋆。°✩ gomu gomu no mi#ه*:・゚ mera mera no mi#doffy is a nasty freak#but he's my nasty freak#doffy loves being your first time#for everything#it's so much worse if he knows you're a virgin#im literally ascending at the thought of#sugar daddy crocodile#riding my big cock#and telling me#he knows i just want him for his money#RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH SHANKS MY WIFFFEEEE#i wanna breed him and call him daddy#while he tries not to bust right away#HES MY BABY GIRL#RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH#mihawk is also my wife#theyre all my wives#i wanna be mihawks#stay at home himbo husband#my only worrys would be#making my wife dinner#then having my wife for dinner#ill eat him out everywhere in that castle#mark my words#dracule mihawk#donquixote doflamingo#sir crocodile#red Haired shanks
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me when I'm lestat and I'm just a widdle meow meow
#i wanna throw a brick at his face#i love you sugar pie pumpkin angel baby#babaycakes angel boo bear honey bun#chou's thought carousel#iwtv#iwtv amc#sam reid#lestat de lioncourt#lestat#iwtv lestat#interview with the vampire
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Scaloni trying to get Aimar to buy him a hoodie before attending a Lakers match.
#i didn't wanna go to scaimar territory bc sickos have already been weird and sent fics to pablo on ig#but my god they're not beating the allegations#scaloni full on being aimar's sugar baby when both are millionaires#pablito had already taken out his wallet lol#lionel scaloni#pablo aimar#argentina nt
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I actually love that they’re calling Checo, Cheque Payrez.
Like, you’re saying my man is rich? Or that every Mexican person is paying for his to stay at RB?
If so, this him.

#cheque payrez#checo pérez#sergio perez#checo#i need more people on ao3 to post this man!!!!#red bull f1#formula 1#red bull racing#i wanna be his sugar baby so baddd
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Unexpected side effect of being Turkish:
Was daydreaming trying to visiualize a breakfast scene for a fic I will never write. A kid charachter was adding sugar to his tea thelephatically while his mom was adding cold water again telephatically and it was like oh to be raised by people whom understand our powers and nurture them. To see the effects of big things in small, natural ways.
Then I realized they are American, they wouldn't be drinking tea and the kid for sure wouldn't be drinking tea and I was left with the hole a well written meaningfull scene I cannot put in left behind.
#I am not going to tag this Turkish cause likke ı don't knoe#though#Tea#I am grapling with the realization that the hole tea would leave behind in me would be much bigger then I anticipated#Now I need to find something like that#I though of like a sandwich but like it is not the same#Cause like#Tea is shared with the whole family right#and tea with sugar and cold water is like consiously including a child in a tradition they wouldn't be able enjoy in a way they can enjoy#It wasn't just about powers#it wasn't just a mother caring for their child and helping them#it was also someone being included#I don't know okay#I just wanna write like a series with Kon getting thrown into several multiverses#and meets different versions of himself and people related to him#and through them settle parts of himself#Like a version whom uses the name luthor#A Kon after losing a lot has stoped being a superhero#A (grown) clone baby raised with his legacy#A child of his urged to show her age cause people forget you are a child when you are powerfull but you are a child#A version of him that figured out the limits of TTK can do nuclear fision and is a god in all but name#and a female version of him whom went to university got married is a mother but is still a superhero as well#a future he never imagined but now that he has seen it#he wants it#it is female Kon cause I have female!Kon brainrot#She is married to Tim btw but she doesn't tell and Kon doesn't realize
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PARTITION! g. satoru
ৎ୭ sum. your sugar daddy, satoru’s worst fear happened. he fears you’re too much of a spoiled rotten brat. screw riding in his expensive private limousine—you wanted to ride something else instead. (him, duh)
wc. 7.3k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo! au, age gap (early twenties + thirties), car sęx, bratty reader, unprotected, getting eaten out the window, tít job, reverse cowgirl, doggy, cunnīlingus, nanami cameo, slight alcohol consumption, size kink, cęrvix kissing, possessive themes (wearing waist beads w his initials), implied multiple rounds, he’s sooo whipped, bręeding.
➤ sd! gojo masterlist
“meet my baby here, sweets. charlotte.”
“satoru, what.”
as satoru had an arm slinked around your waist, brushing a thumb across the jewels that stuck against of of the many designer blouses he’s bought you within the past week, he hums. the two of you were staring straight at a limousine. it was icy blue like his eyes with a plethora of dark-tinted windows. to even top it off, it had ‘G.S limousine service, inc.’ carved into the side of one of the doors in bright, blue cursive.
you huffed, smearing your glossed lips together. “you named your limousine?”
“heh, well she’s yours now,” he hums, guiding you toward the slid open doors. “c’mon, there’s a club i wanna take you to. if we leave now, we can beat the press.” and satoru takes a peek at his gleaming, pricey watch. he helps lifts the back of your long skirt from touching the ground before you step in. immediately, you’re hit with flashing lights inside the luxurious car and its plush red seats.
“where to, sir.” a blond chauffeur adjusts his mirror with a sigh, taking a short glance at you.
satoru throws an arm around you, tugging lightly on his tie that’s tucked neatly in his suit. “ah, kento, meet my girl. and please—drive us to my private lounge,” satoru kisses your cheek as you sit, whispering in an impish, low tone. “buckle up, sweetheart. ‘s gonna be a bumpy ride.”
the seats were oh-so-soft, a violent hot color of maroon as the entire limo was lit up with nothing but dim flashing, flashing lights.
it was bright, the size alone was probably bigger than a simple normal bathroom. satoru saw you taking in the luxurious life like you always did, craning your head from left to right before peering at the empty wine glasses in front of you both.
“it’s so pretty,” you hummed, your head resting against his shoulder.
once you’re laid against him, you’re smacked with his signature loud cologne scent. it was always a scent you’d never forget, nor could you get used to.
it’s strong, making you take the citrusy manly aroma in silence every time.
with a raised brow, you look up at the white-haired man before timidly murmuring, “wait- what do you mean this is mine? like.. the whole thing?”
“yeah, silly girl,” satoru brushes a thumb around the center of your forehead in invisible circles.
you’ve grown to get weak with his tender touch every time. cerulean-iced eyes lock against you lovingly, and that’s when that cunning grin spreads at each side of his crooked lips. “think of it as an uh- surprise gift for the new year.”
with a pout, you open your mouth to complain. “satoru- last week, you just bought me-”
“a convertible, and i’d do it again in a heartbeat,” satoru whispers, planting another kiss near your temple.
your incoming words come to an abrupt pause, and the cute speechless look you gave him always made him hum in amusement.
one of the many things satoru liked- no loved about you, was that you were always so humble.
you were forever grateful, but you couldn’t help but be hesitant sometimes at how much he’d constantly spend for you. satoru continued to shower you with compliment though—constantly reassuring you that he wanted to splurge his money on you.
you were living the dream - literally.
embodying the life of a rich girl, a type of rich girl where you’d usually see in cheesy movies or sung in iconic songs by artists like gwen stefani.
even though it’s been a full-blown year, you’ve started to grow accustomed to the sweet luxury of being a sugar baby.
satoru gojo’s sugar baby.
but he wasn’t starting to see you as just his pretty ‘lil sugar baby though, that much was apparent.
satoru didn’t expect you to not only take his money but his heart too.
and he never minded.
he couldn’t put a price on that anyway.
“besides,” he grabs a clear, empty glass and an unopened bottle from underneath the fuzzy, red seat. with a flick, satoru removes the cork that is plugged near the top with just his thumb and middle finger. as he pours a small portion of wine inside, the velvet-colored liquid stains against all sides of the glass.
“what’s mine is yours, baby,” he takes a sip before sighing at the cassis flavor hits against his tastebuds, “ ‘s what my sweet thing deserves.”
as you’re still pouting, the limo continues to drive.
the windows were tinted, but it was clear as day when you looked through them to take a quick peel. as usual, the roads were quite busy with rush hour but it was a smooth ride nonetheless.
however though, you had to admit, you were getting a bit… bored.
satoru sat man spread, both of his wide legs taking so much unnecessary space before he contemptibly sighed again. with one of his arms still wrapped around you, you took a moment to take in his suave, handsome appearance.
he always was draped in nothing but tuxedos—
after all, without the whole sugar daddy side thing, you sometimes forget how satoru was a literal well-known businessman.
he never really went into the specifics of his work, but you knew he was the CEO of some private company.
satoru was a very powerful man, a man with a big net worth … but an even bigger heart.
the shoes that satoru wore were dress shoes of his own brand, of course. in the luminous, glittery lights of the inside of the limousine—the shoes were visibly spit-shined from top to bottom. his suit’s dark black, and the handkerchief that stuck out of his front chest had the imprints of your lipstick on it.
of course he kept that.
his hair..
it’s messily ruffled but somewhat presentable, slicked back as usual with a faint side part. over time, you started to notice how he was growing facial hair too.
it’s subtle, and you’d have to squint but you saw it. you saw how specks of white hair were trying to form down near his chin.
it was attractive nonetheless, and the thought of satoru growing a stubble had you squeezing your thighs together in shame.
after all, he was in his early-thirties so he was bound to grow some facial hair at some point. he’s always been a well-shaved man, but the image forever plagued your mind.
“yeees, sweets.” he snaps you out of your little fantasm, the near-empty wine glass still in his hand. he sits the expensive bottle of ‘screaming eagle’ near the limo’s bar that was covered with dozens of tiny, pretty rhinestones.
“h.. huh?” you stammer, blinking thrice.
shit.
the way you stared at him was like a deer in headlights. caught red-handed!
that same wry grin that stretched so slyly pried at both cracks of his lips before satoru tilted his head. “you’re starin’ y’know,” and you felt his hand placed on your thigh. “is my baby bored?”
“a little,” you admitted, hearing the loud screeching of tire wheels and screaming horns of other cars in the background.
only satoru could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world..
slowly, satoru dragged his pink tongue over his upper lip which was a bit damp from the scarlet-colored wine.
you sucked in a raucous breath - your thoughts turning more ‘n more filthy by the second.
his lips.. they were so perfect, naturally glossed, and forevermore had a plump downward curve. you could stare at them all day, and your eyes widened once a drip of wine started to trickle down the right side of his lip.
“ooh- excuse me. guess ‘m a bit messy today,” he throatily chuckles, feeling the coldness of the red droplet race down his skin. “would you be a doll ‘n lick that up for me, sweetheart?”
“okay-” you comply right away, positioning yourself on his lap.
satoru titters, cocking his head lazily toward the left as you get comfortable. cute, he thinks.
he could already tell how eager you were. also, he didn’t tell you the duration of the ride but it was probably about a good hour.
like hell could you even wait that long.
it felt like time was so cruel - standing still as you inched closer and closer toward his face. satoru laid man spread the entire time, eyeing you closely with his gaze never leaving yours.
he paws a big hand near your waist, hearing your pretty airy breaths pick up.
“stop looking at me like that-”
“aw, is it a crime to stare at my gi-”
satoru’s fatally silenced with a kiss.
it’s a rough one, and you couldn’t wait to run your tongue across the remnants of cherry-flavored wine that now started to drip down his chin.
it tasted sweet - a spicy cherry flavor, and you moaned once his knee aligned itself between your thighs.
his thigh was so bulky too, even underneath the lanky, slender slacks he wore. satoru was a particularly ripped guy in general — you knew his workout routine like the back of your hand, and sometimes he’d even let you do sets with him.
(sets that mainly consisted of you sitting on his back while he did push-ups orrrr sitting on his abs while he used barbells in his private gym)
“mhm~” you moan against his lips, hearing the competitive sounds of teeth rudely smacking against each other in vigorous sync.
each tongue’s on a dangerous mission, desperately trying to dominate the other and you couldn’t help but melt.
your twisting, hot tongue started to wander, creating a slippery snail trail near the crack of his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. “sa- satoruu.” you’d breathe, one hand giving his tie a needy, impatient pull.
“heyyy, you know i don’t speak whine,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips for a second.
your lips were already swollen, slickly shining with saliva that could’ve been an easily replaceable substitute for lip gloss. “use those words, sweetheart,” and it was like the more he spoke, the deeper his voice seductively pitched.
the knee that still rested between your sprawled open legs didn’t make things easier either. “tell me what you want ‘n maybe i’ll give it to ya, hm?”
with a huff, you mumble a soft, “you-”
“well yeah, me silly! elaborate for me though.”
“i want- i want you.. i want all of you satoru. right now,” you go into more detail, leaning in to paint a slope of wet kisses down his neck. satoru’s collar was a bit unkempt—some exposed skin showed above his collar which you then brought upon yourself to attack with kisses. “pretty please.”
“hah- but.. you already have me,” he inhales, groaning once he feels you starting to grind against his lap.
satoru’s touch was pure static..
his fingers couldn’t help but mindlessly roam, tickling against your bare skin that protruded through the minuscule squares of your ripped fishnets.
the stare you two shared was just so intimate, and he could almost already smell your lusty, loud arousal..
“mhm- y’know, what i want too?” satoru huskily whispers against your ear, grunting as your hips slooooowly rubbed against his visible boner.
hugely, it stuck out through his jet-black slacks. leave it to you to always make him hard.
“tell me.” you reply with a chastened frown, sliding a hand up his loose button-up. your hand enters underneath his shirt and his skin is so warm that it feels like his entire body is on fire.
right away, your curious palm gets a taste of his hardened abs that were nearly akin to the texture of a damn brick.
rigid, flexing muscles of satoru’s relax at your touch before he grabs a nice chunk of your ass.
“oh, nothing! ‘m just a.. ‘lil thirsty, sweets..”
♡ ♡ ♡
“ohmygod-” you’d squeal, cupping a clammy palm over your mouth.
when satoru said he was thirsty, you surely didn’t expect him to have you hanging out the window with your ass perfectly perked out.
with a single hand, he pulled up your skirt, raising it to the brink of your waistline while dragging your pretty lace panties to the side with a single thumb.
you were partially hanging out the window - safely though, he’d never let you fall.
satoru had an arm wrapped around your waist, one hand sliding down your thigh. vehemently, his tongue swirled circles around your clit before giving it one looooong suck.
his lips puckered, and he could already feel your hips starting to stutter against his mouth.
“mng- ‘toru,” you’d heave, wriggling your ass around his face. the tip of his nose started to rub up and down your slit too, and he’s shamelessly getting a whiff of your candied mess.
he was always so nasty, proudly spitting on your pussy, lapping it up before it dripped onto the thousand-dollar seats.
“mhh- wiggle that ass a little more for me baby, dance with my.. haaah- tongue,” he whispers airily, thumbing a fat finger near your pulsing clit. satoru found it so cute how you’d pulse every time he’d smear slippery circles around your pussy.
you just couldn’t help it!
you’re sucking in each ‘n every breath, sinking the edges of your teeth into your bawled knuckle to suppress your moans.
a strong gust of wind strikes you as the car continues to move, and you’re just meekly smiling at the cars that pass by.
from their points of view… the drivers are just seeing some random girl slightly hanging out a halfway-lowered limousine window.
in reality though,
you were getting eaten out while dozens of cars speedily drove past you.
through your slightly blurred peripherals, you saw satoru’s chauffeur who you remember hearing him address as ‘kento’ earlier, giving you a peer through his side-view mirror. he had his hands firmly on his steering wheel, scoffing to himself with a head shake.
he mumbled something under his breath as he looked away, focusing his browned eyes on the talking GPS that read him the directions to the destination.
from your sweet, repetitive moans, you couldn’t exactly make out what he said but from a quick read of his lips, you’d probably guess it was something like:
“i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
as you’re still hung out the window, your legs part a bit - causing your eyes to widen.
satoru’s slurping you clean, skipping frisky plump fingers down your thigh before cupping his plump lips around your pussy. his head, it moves back and forth, ferociously shifting side to side like a damn madman.
you probably looked soo stupid. your mouth stayed open the entire time with your jaw forever dropped—dangling like an earring.
“fuh- fuuuck,” your trembling voice pitches higher, and you claw a hand near the back of your ass.
tightly gripping at a piece of your ass, it fits around your hand entirely before you turn to look back at satoru.
already, his chin’s got a pretty coat of your juices pouring down his jaw. his tongue was just hungry, wanting far more than just a few sips of his expensive screaming eagle..
you were far sweeter than any beverage, and satoru continuously took big, big gulps.
he treated his lips like a straw, pursing them to suck before slurping every single drop of you clean until you could barely hold your legs open.
“mhm- look at alllll this pretty fuckin’ ass,” he groans, removing your hand that was gripped on your rear.
with a whack! he hits it, humming at the cute ‘lil jolt of your shimmying body.
your skin jiggles in his face instantly, and you feel his curving tongue precisely slow its frantic pace down by the second.
there….
the tip of his pointed tongue stretched itself so far out that it clicked itself against your precious g-spot. “mng- spread y’rself wider, baby. ‘m not done with my.. hah- drink.”
“suh- sssatoru,” you’d drag out your whiny, pathetic words.
your brows formed into a furrow as your hands grabbed onto the edges of the rolled-down window. sweaty, perspiring fingertips imprinted the fogged glass as he licked every wet orifice thoroughly.
thankfully, some music was blasting in the background—seemingly drowning out your constant, pleading whines and whimpers..
satoru’s designer tie even gets a bit wet - you’re drip drip dripping, tears of glossy slick pouring flawlessly from both sides of your legs. he brings a thumb toward your hole, feeling your cute wriggles before spitting down your pussy.
slowly, the webby string trails a straight, sloppy line down and he licks it up — removing his thumb and starting at your hole before lapping his tongue down the bottom part of your pussy.
he’s wholeheartedly feral - animalistic, working his tongue until your brain turns into mush.
eventually, you ended up crawling back into the spacious limousine and landed on your back.
with your legs still spread, satoru lifts your thighs, continuing his feast. “mmph- get back here, sweets. ‘m not haaah- done,” he’d jibe each time he’d squint to see your cute weak pulse up close.
you’re impatient - desperate for your release so much that you could almost taste it..
it tasted sweet with a bit of tang, and the more you fantasized about your inevitable orgasm— the more more more you were starting to blank out all on his tongue.
“mnh- attaaaaa girl, let ‘toru get a nice good sip.” he’s still slurping you, a few excess juices smearing against his cheek.
satoru’s long, white lashes flutter open and close as he relishes in your treacly taste.
you just couldn’t stay still though.
with the way your hips cutely tossed ‘n turned each time his tongue delved inside of your sopping cunt, he’d think your middle name was ‘squirmer.’
time drags by for a looong time, not as long as satoru’s tongue though.. not by a long shot..
it flicked its way through each spot, munching proudly against your clit before your tummy tucked inward. your brain haywires, and with your mouth wide open — the only sounds that escaped were small, labored breaths.
you’re cumming, and your lashes frantically blinked at so many blinks per second. your muscles that were once tense relaxed as you’re finally succumbing to pleasure.
you squealed out that final, harmonic battle cry before your head plopped into the edge of the limo’s seat.
“fuck- fuck, fuuuck,” you’re whimpering, repeating the same swear like a broken record as you feel him grab ahold of your writhing hips.
his tongue’s length curved its way everywhere, creating a path to remember as it made itself known at all tender areas of your pussy.
“uh huh- that’s it, good girl. ride it out, riiiide it out, i gotcha,” he groans, laying his tongue fully flat. it’s a rose-like pink, soddened tastebuds sizzling in contempt once you’re ‘quenching’ his thirst with your sweetened arousal.
buzzing sounds went in and out of your ears as you just released huff after puff through your lungs. satoru’s lips were glossed with nothing but your slick, even more than they already were.
he gives your poor, convulsing clit its last finally smooches before reluctantly breaking away.
“hah- never a dull moment with her,” he licks his lips from top to bottom, grabbing out his lipstick-stained handkerchief before patting underneath his chin. “you okay, sweetheart?”
“ ‘m okay,” you breathe, still feeling tingles surge through every one of your veins that ran down your wobbly, numb limbs. your legs had it the worse.
you barely felt anything, and satoru helped you back to your feet.
it was a limo, so it wasn’t like you could exactly stand but you sufficed by crouching just below the fuzzy-made hood.
satoru lies slouched back - giving his lap a few playful pats before tilting his head at you. “c’mere, sweet thing,” and his voice was dripping with erotic silk.
his ocean-strong eyes zero down at your body, trailing up up up before eventually stopping just about your waistline.
your skirt was now off — pulled to the floor and so were your panties. you only had your matching blouse on. you got an idea though, and satoru watched you get on your knees. “oh..?”
“ ‘toru,” you speak in shortened puffs, still trying to get over your recent teeth-shattering orgasm. every sensitive axon and nerve located in your body was screaming at you, aching for more stimulation as time passed.
as your hands casually spread his long legs wider across the cushioned seats, you hummed. “remember those waist beads you ordered me a few weeks back?”
“mhm,” he nods, eyes never darting away from your wriggling body for a second.
satoru wondered what your game was.
as he was trying to prevent himself from smiling, he was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe you were starting to get just a liiiiitle bit spoiled.
as his legs were fully sprawled apart, you brought your hands toward the hem of the designer blouse that stuck against your skin. you honestly lost count of just how many clothes satoru’s bought you within the past year.
he watches closely - zeroing down at your figure, nipping on his lip as he stares at you leisurely pulling the piece of clothing off of you.
satoru’s seen your skin countless times, but there was just something about your body that he just couldn’t get enough of.
couldn’t get enough of you..
if he was being honest, he could stare at you all day.
“look. it fits perfectly,” you speak in a sweet tone, your thighs stuck together as you were still dripping from the inner crevices. you could feel yourself throbbing, and it took everything in you to not let out a moan.
satoru tsks, kissing his teeth once he’s now exposed to your skin.
the damn beads,
they wrapped around your waist and indeed fit your entire torso. his eyes studied the gold that went around your raised hips, whistling once he saw those two crystallized initials - his initials.
‘G.S’
the small two letters hung on one waist bead that was drooped low near your naval and an extra twin pair near the charms behind your back. “fuuuck- know that’s right,” satoru huffs, his breathing starting to get a bit heavy.
“all mine, heh- looks so damn pretty on you,” and as his eyes continued to meander down your skin, satoru’s head rests back against the softly cushioned seat. “hm- how ‘bout you model for me? show off that gorgeous body a little more f’ me.”
“say ‘please’,” you’d get on his lap, wrapping your arms around him. satoru looks up at you with a mere pouting scowl, a hand instinctively attaching itself to your hip.
“pleaaase, oh-pleaseeee sweets. don’t tease me too bad, you’re bein’ a bit of a spoiled girl right now,” he whispers, bringing wet, cold lips toward the corner of your neck. you moaned, feeling satoru’s free hand strum a few fingers down your waist beads.
they clank clank clanked, creating pretty jingle sounds at each faint movement before you started to move your hips.
“goddamn-” he holds in a breath, practically wordless as his eyes continued to rove.
briskly, you slowly turned yourself around, teasingly popping your hips to the dropping beats of the song that played through the limo’s speakers.
satoru’s suddenly short of breath, circling a thumb around the left cheek of your ass. he’s so hard, and you could feel it the more you rubbed your ass right up against thaaat particular spot.
he sucks his teeth once more, grunting as he feels the cloth knead against your skin so good..
“woman, you’re bein’ such a bratty tease right now..” and he could taste that round, large lump forming near the very back of his throat.
satoru shivers as your hands place on the crown of his knees, and you’re starting to rock rock rock back ‘n forth his throbbing boner. “hmph. the things i let ‘cha get away with, lucky ‘m not.. haah- fuck, bending ya over my lap, baby.”
“you talk a lot for a guy with a boner this hard, ‘toru.” you shrug, continuing the sensual jerking of your hips.
he’s grunting at every swift turn of your body, hearing his heart loudly thump through his ears.
the limo’s speed picks up a few miles and you could hear the grumbling from underneath the vehicle as you stayed quiet for a few seconds.
“mmh- fine, since you said please.”
as you’re still facing the other way, you reach for his buckle with your fingers brushing near the cold straps. you couldn’t see, so he grabbed your hand—guiding you where to unbuckle his slacks.
“f.. fuck, hurry up. you rubbin’ against me isn’t helping matters at all, y’know,” he tries to laugh but it comes out very dry.
satoru just wanted to be inside you, making you remember your place with a few sloppy strokes.
you giggled, hearing his pants and boxers sliiiide down to his ankles with a thud before jostling your rear way back against his leaning cock. it hung so cutely, and its tip was swollen with veins protruding at a few girthy sides.
with satoru still having a hold of your hand, he makes you touch the leaking head. “ooh,” you hum, twirling a thumb around his tender frenulum.
as you do so, he moans out the sluttiest moan, pretty white lashes squeezing shut for about three seconds to savor this moment.
“heh.. little girl,” he gutturally prowls, aligning his dick in between the crack of your fleshy mounds. it’s very hard, and you hummed at the warmth he provided. “go on then.. ride me in reverse, sweets. this the ride you wanted all along, hm?”
“yeaah,” you played along, almost seeing the weary smirk unfurl across his lips as he spoke.
you couldn’t wait any longer either.
you were throbbing persistently, every fiber of your being longing for satoru to ease his way inside of your pretty, sobbing cunt.
he was so big that your hand could barely wrap around the entity of his length. instantly, your palms met with various veins as you raised your hips moderately.
his vermillion-shaded tip carefully hovered over your dripping hole, and satoru’s just heavily breathing at your stilled body.
“mngh-” you released a rough, jagged breath once you were slowly making your way down on his cock.
like usual, you’re presented with that loving tiiiiight stretch that lasts for about a good four seconds.
satoru’s tip alone was big, and it pummeled through your insides as his inches started to leisurely disappear.
it’s such a lewd scene - a scene he wouldn’t mind replaying over ‘n over again in his head..
your pussy sings out sloshes of wet high notes in harmony, trying to take in his weighty shaft.
your mouth opens up on its own, and you’re breathing out colorful swears of ‘ohhh fuuuck’ ‘s as you continue to sink your way down.
from the both of you, countless breathy breaths were drawn from both raspy lungs as the mouthwatering penetration continued.
it felt like a squeeze pinching near your insides, tickling around you from the inside before adding pounds of pressure pressure pressure..
your hands go back to being placed on his knees, whimpering as his slick cock eases its way inside of your pussy. spongy, clamping walls hugged around him like a vice and your teeth were starting to feel that familiar chatter.
“god- always s- so fuckin’ big, ‘toru,” you moan, your bratty ‘lil façade shortly faltering once he’s finally buried balls fuckin’ deep.
the pit of your tummy was constantly heaving, cowardly sucking itself in and out at the sheer weight of his size before you eventually relaxed.
“perfect fit for my perfect… hah- girl.” he grunts, taking a quick peer down at your unbalanced thighs that struggled to move at first.
gradually, your hips started to move and greeted satoru’s lap with a sharp, rude slam. once you started to adapt to a rhythm, your hips rolled and rolled.
“agh- that’s i.. iiiiit,” he choked on his saliva, playing with the waist beads that danced against your torso as you moved.
satoru moans, feeling his fat base smush its way against your ass once you sat down. your hips were reeling, winding back into his pelvis like a wind-up toy.
with parched, hot skin amongst skin - the sounds echoed against the limo, nearly sounding over the music that played in the background.
satoru’s watching as you plop straight back into him before you sprightly wriggle your hips in a seductive circle.
“my, ain’t you a naughty girl..” he tosses his head back in overwhelming rapture, feeling his dick twitch inside you as the sloppy sounds continue.
it was hard not to hear - if it was anything satoru knew about your pussy, he knew that it was always, always vocal with him..
you’re slamming back against his lap every time, squeezing your palms against the crowns of his knees with your body twirling and falling back into his inviting lap.
if you kept riding him like that, he’d really be head over heels.
“ugh- yeah, girl. ride it, ride this dick like it’s yours because it fuckin’ is,” satoru grunts, feeling your cunt tighten for a second at his exact words. “heh- did my messy girl like that? like hearin’ that ‘m yours, sweetheart?”
“mhm,” you’d nod with your lips clamped shut.
he’s just so big, stretching through your insides with such ease. the once slow and steady beats of your heart were now thump thump thumping!
satoru’s bulbous-shaped tip had a hooked upturning curve, and fuck did you feel every sloping curve as you bounced up ‘n down on his cock.
it’s so good that your mouth’s pathetically watering from the inside, and you’re already starting to feel that burning sensation electrify through your aching, stretched muscles.
“mngh- look at this body, s… so damn-” and he pauses, clenching his jaw at the sloppy wet feeling of your barriers bear-hugging around his cock.
you’re just working your hips like it’s a full-time job, throwing them around in a circle so fast that even satoru could barely keep up.
with thighs upon thighs upon thighs, your skin sticks against his like glue. a trail of colorless slick smears down satoru’s leg and he moans at the loud slaps of zealous, clapping skin.
you’re sticky still, and he’s moaning louder once the speed of your hips quickens.
“yeah? yeah, better- fuckin’-ride-me,” and even though his voice faintly cracks, satoru still manages a sort of poised, cocky persona.
multiple ‘encouraging’ swats hit against the cheeks of your ass and you’re whining, putting your all into the movements of your jerking body. satoru’s snowy brows contort before he gives your waist beads a soft tug.
“do it, fuck me, baby. ‘n while you’re at it..” and as you’re still moving your hips, you feel a bit of paper rain down your back that’s starting to perspire with sweat.
“fuck-” satoru grunts smokily, staring as hundred dollar bills fall down your bare spine. “forgot ‘ta give you your allowance, might as well give it to you now.”
“hngh- satoruuu,” you whined, his cock hitting its way through every spot. it french-kisses near your clit before passionately making out with your cervix.
it located both spots easily, and the feeling had your toes curling inside of your four-inch heels.
satoru ended up tossing those same bills down your back, staring as it prettily fell down your body before landing on his lap and the limo’s cottony carpet.
“ ‘m gonna cum i think,” you moaned, slowing your turning hips in hypnotic, carnal arcs. satoru’s hands were brought to your waist with two thumbs pressed at each side of your hips. “ ‘m cummin’ satoru.”
“me too, s.. sweets,” he swallows, hissing silently at the unsteady bucking of your bouncing ass.
your rear jiggled at each slamming thrust, ricocheting against his thighs and it was just so mesmerizing to watch.
satoru’s feeling the scorching tip of his cock grow hot, and he’s starting to feel all types of contractions arise within his muscles. “god- tell me where to tell me where.”
“inside,” you moaned, bringing your hands toward your chest to cup to bouncing tits. you squeezed them, smearing a thumb around your hardened nipples before making yourself even more aroused.
it’s just so much to process.
your rutting hips, the loud squelches of your pussy, satoru’s dick driving through you repeatedly.. oh, you were in a daze.
“f- fuuuuck. be a… hah- good girl ‘n take it all then.” he groans, elated euphoria swelling within him.
you stuck against his lap so good, slickly sliding your ass back before going forward, then back into his pelvis again.
your movements alone left such a good taste in his mouth, and once he feels himself about to burst - he fuckin’ bursts.
a massive load spurts out of satoru, shooting deeply into your fluttering womb as your hips come to a freezing still.
you’re cumming too - whimpering as you’re gushing down on his cock while being absolutely filled.
wads ‘n wads of milky, gooey cum floods inside of you, plugging you to the fullest. you’re both moaning lowly, rocking against each other in rushed unison before you arch forward.
your ass was fully bent over, and satoru stared openly as he was still shooting such deep, frothy amounts inside of you.
you looked so pretty like this that he couldn’t help but mentally take a picture, widely peering at the foamy droplets of cum that started to trickle their way down his overwhelmed base—creating a sparkling white ring.
it’s still as thick - still as veiny, and satoru makes you raise your hips ever-so-slightly.
doing so, he stares at your soddened pussy that’s lewdly spitting out a few heaps of cum before hearing that cute wet ‘plop!’
“fuckin’ dirty girl..” he huffs, one hand softly caressing your waist beads. he takes a glance at the ‘G.S.’ initials that were engraved near the back side of the many other charms, and he sighs.
right as you’re pulled up to where his creamy tip was juuuust about to slide away from your soused opening, satoru gives your stuffed pussy a soft pat.
“don’t know who’s dirtier…. herrrr,” he mumbles, swabbing a thumb around your cum-covered hole before bringing it up to his mouth.
with a wet smacking ‘ccht’ of satoru’s lips coming together—he licks his thumb clean, cooing silently at the taste of himself like the filthy, filthy man he was. “or you.”
♡ ♡ ♡
after many, many positions, you found yourself losing multiple rounds with your shallow breath as if even breathing was a mere contest. he’s had you in position after position, folding you like a freshly baked pretzel. it’s almost like the two of you weren’t literally in a limousine.
you hoped his chauffeur nanami didn’t hear. that would’ve been well, embarrassing.
the drive felt like forever.. but, you honestly didn’t want it.. this to end.
you’re a mess, stuffed to the uttermost fullest with ribbons of satoru’s freshly hot cum messily tearing down every slick crevice of your thighs.
currently, satoru had you in one of his favorite positions.
doggy.
part of the reason why he loved it so much was mainly because of the perfect, jiggling view.
your ass - he loved seeing how it would react from each rude smack, swatting his palm over and over again at your cute, tender skin. the pads of your hands pressed firmly into the limo’s seats as he’s just giving you the pound of a damn lifetime.
“mngh!” you’d whine out, drooling from the sides of your jittery, spit-slick lips that refused to stay shut.
he’s effortlessly reaching all the right areas, swiftly pumping his way past that cute taut ring of your entrance that he’s grown to love.
that brief tight stretch nearly makes him lose his mind, and satoru then brings his hands toward your waist. “right there, right fuckin’ th— mmph!”
“shhh, you’re gonna.. hah- miss the best part, sweets,” the white-haired man cups a hand over your mouth.
slow strokes - deeper thrusts..
your eyes rolled ‘n rolled back, gasping against his palm once he sneaks a hand in between your wet thighs. with your waist beads tickling against his wrist, satoru gives your pussy a soft smack.
your wetness ‘splashes’ against the center of his hand, and it even pops out a cute sound too.
“uuugh- ‘m gonna… cum agaiiin,” you’d raise your ass in the air just a bit more, your voice turning more whiny within seconds.
your words were still a bit muffled with his hand covering your mouth, but he still made out your whiny, inaudible words—just barely. .
the sounds of fierce, sharp hips brutally clashing against skin every time made him groan. it’s a booming resounding ‘pop!’ or ‘pap!’ noise every time that makes your entire body ring instead of just your ears.
his cock’s searching through your wet, gripping walls as if it had some sort of life purpose.
“hah- me t.. too, sweetheart,” and fuck, satoru’s drowning in his sweat. “phew-” satoru brings the back of his wrist to wipe some from his forehead. glancing down, he stares at your jouncing ass before giving you one, snappingly deep thrust.
“pussy’s a fuckin’ workout- oh shiiiiit.” and satoru’s feeling you clamp clamp clamp down on him, giving his dick the work of its life.
you could feel the individual staticky pulses of your clit signaling messages to you that you’re just so close and you’re nearly salivating inside of your mouth.
soooo good.. for a moment you forgot the two of you were still in the back of a limousine.
he’s fucking you so good that you could barely think straight.
satoru’s still playing with your pussy, giving it spanks in between his robust thrusts.
his rotund tip beat red, an oxblood blush of red as he continued to ram a heart-shaped sloppy kiss toward your clit.
at that moment, your legs cutely retreated and your chest collapsed forward. “feels s.. sooo good satoru, ngh- ‘toruuu!”
as your body spasmed at the onslaught of his reckless, sloppy thrusts - your hips were all the way raised against his lap.
you’re losing track of thoughts as you’re harshly creaming down his shaft, murmuring out cute little babbles of ‘ooohs’ once you feel his angle deepen.
satoru brings a hand down your fleshy back, staring at your skin that was wetly decorated with sweat while studying the goosebumps that ran down your spine.
“ ‘m gonna.. hah- cum,” he groans, a few stubby fingers thrumming down the gold waist beads that wrapped around your waist.
he brings his thumb toward the tiny ‘G.S.’ initials before pressing his honed-shaped pelvis wholly into you with just a single, barbaric thrust.
“all mine, my pretty… hah- wife.”
wife?
you heard that — you definitely heard it, but part of you wondered if maybe satoru was just overly pussy drunk as usual.
but the thought alone - the thought of actually being his wife of satoru gojo, your sugar daddy, didn’t seem too bad.
as the image of you walking down the aisle crossed your mind, your throbbing brought you straight back into orgasmic reality.
“wait.. hnng- pull out,” you’d moan, another idea popping into your head. instead of satoru usually finishing inside, you had a better idea.
“haah- ‘kay,” he pants, his snapping hips working overtime as they continually mercilessly plunge deep into your heated core.
his rhythm was far slower, but his thrusts were always in such a hurried frenzy.
he’s close - so so close.
you’re still covered with his cum from before from the legs down, and it paints such a pretty canvas on you.
a lewd, erotic canvas maybe..
quickly, satoru ends up pulling out with a hand wrapped around his cock that painfully throbbed. it scrunched up a bit at the sudden coldness, already missing your clingy warmth before you flip over.
“h.. hm?”
“ ‘toru, put ‘em between here.” you spoke in a hushed tone, sinking your knees into the limo’s velveteen-made seats.
he hungrily stares at you with nothing but lust surrounding the entirety of his rounded, dilated pupils. at your sweet, breathy word of ‘here,’ you brought two hands up to your breasts.
“naughty… temptress,” satoru clicks his tongue. aligning his swollen dick in between the crack of your sweat-dripping chest, it easily sliiiiiides its way through.
he watches intently as you squeeze your tits together, glancing up at him with those pretty, siren eyes of yours that were starting to droop.
“mmh,” and as his tip disappears between the slot of your chest, you hang your head down, flicking your tongue across the tender slit of his shaft.
“f- fuck, ‘m gonna cum. can’t- hold it anymore, sweets,” satoru groans, his words so guttural ‘n low that they sounded almost like a growl.
he knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer, not when you were on your knees—stuffing his dick right between your perked tits.
he’s sloppily starting to thrust his cock in and out between the valley of your breasts and felt himself throb at each cute jounce they created amongst each other.
so …. soft.
satoru’s achy tip was forming into an angry shade of bloodshot red, and the entirety of his shaft was smoldering from the stimulation. after a few long milliseconds though—he finds himself shooting white blanks again.
he’s fucking between your tits as you held them together, spraying a nice sum of his load onto your chest. you gasp, a bit landing on your lip and you lick it.
satoru’s moaning - no, grunting as he’s finishing against your breasts. he drags a shaky hand through his tousled, white hair before letting off a deep, heavy sigh.
“ohhh… fuck,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears burning a fiery pink.
his limp cock now remains idle, still buried between your tits before you slide your tongue across the leaking creamed tip.
it’s so glossy, dribbling from all sides with his pasty mess plastered on the upper part of your chest. “didn’t know i had.. such a dirty sweethe- fuck.”
satoru pauses for theatrics — holding his breath, thinking he was still cumming, but he wasn’t.
his mind was simply playing tricks, and his jaw clenched once you lapped up the remnants of bittersweet tasting cum that splattered on you. you used your thumb to reach the spots your tongue couldn’t, and once you were finished, satoru bent down to pull you into a fervent, deep kiss.
you moaned against his lips as the limousine still created miles upon miles. you lost track of time, but you’d guess it’s probably been well over an hour's drive.
“mng-” satoru grunts into your lips, feeling your arms wrap around him. he still had his button-up shirt on the entire time along with his suit just above his torso. he’s tasting himself on your lips, grunting once he felt your hand tug on his ruffled black tie.
your tongue was sticky, swirling a circular pattern around the inside of his mouth before you sucked on his.
satoru allowed you to make him get underneath you, and he felt your legs crawling on top of him.
as you’re both still deeply making out — fighting each other with sharp slaps of teeth smacking against each other, you gingerly pull away.
“i’m your wife now?”
“h.. hm?”
“earlier,” you lick near the corner of his lip. “you said ‘m your pretty wife.”
satoru gives you a sleazy lopsided grin. he looked so pussy drunk that he almost forgot about that tiny piece of dialogue that spouted from his lips.
“ah, i did call you my wife, didn’t i, sweets?” and as a thumb caresses around your cheek, he hoarsely whispers. “well, do you want to be?”
bringing a wet, torrid kiss toward his bottom crooked lip, you hummed. “i do.”
“wish you would’ve told me sooner though,” he sheepishly says, giving his tie a few meek pulls. “i could’ve proposed the right way but.. this is fine too, i gues-.”
“shhh-” you silence him with yet another barrage of kisses, cupping his face.
satoru grunts, hearing the little jangles of your waist brands yet again as your hips laboriously swayed against him.
your forehead is pressed against his and its hit with a bunch of sweat from satoru.
satoru moans from your ardent, vehement kisses, his lips being left all plump, reddened, and not to mention swollen all because of you.
his dick twitches—a prominent vein striking near the left side as you steadily moved your dripping pussy against it in slow, ravishing rocks. “lie back,” you whispered, playfully pushing him back against the seat.
satoru reclines back with a ‘hmph’ and he raises a silvery brow at your audacity. “lie back ‘n let your fiancé ride you again.”
“heh.. yes, mrs. gojo.”
#★vegasbaby.#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#female reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jujustsu kaisen x reader
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YOU ARE NOT DYING jjk men

feat. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, shiu, higuruma
sum. MIA for two whole days, your older boyfriend finds you have been sick the whole time but don’t worry, they are here to take care of you!
warning. non-sorcerer! jjk men, you are early twenty and they are late twenty, petnames, fluff, crack,

GOJO SATORU
he bursts through your apartment door like a whirlwind in a storm — keys jangling as they hit the floor, designer sunglasses still perched on his nose, even though it's nearly sundown. the moment the door swings open, his voice echoes through the quiet, too-quiet apartment.
“sweetheart? baby?” his voice is deceptively cheerful, light and sing-song, but the tension is there, tight in the undercurrent. he hasn’t heard from you in two days. no text. no call. nothing. and you never go that quiet, not even when you’re mad at him.
satoru’s long legs carry him through your apartment like he owns the place — which, to be fair, he kind of does, considering he pays your rent without your knowledge. he steps into the dimly lit living room and freezes.
you’re there, bundled up on the couch like a miserable, sniffling ghost. oversized hoodie swallowing you whole, one of his, naturally, and a pathetic mountain of tissues around you like a fortress. there’s a blanket halfway off your legs, a cold cup of tea on the table, and your phone sitting dead by your hand.
“...what the hell,” he breathes, sunglasses slipping down his nose as he takes it in, brows furrowing under snowy bangs. “are you seriously dying in silence? do you hate me?”
you groan softly, barely able to lift your head. “didn’t wanna bother you… you’re busy with work…”
“busy with work? babe, i thought you got kidnapped by some creepy guy who’s into sniffing socks or something—which, by the way, i would’ve lost my shit over.”
he’s already moving, dropping to his knees in front of the couch, hands large and warm as they cup your flushed face. you’re burning. “oh my god, you’re so hot,” he says, wide-eyed, like it’s not from the fever. “and not in the good, ride-me-until-my-legs-don’t-work way. like… medically concerning.”
you manage a weak laugh, and he beams like you just handed him the moon. satoru brushes your hair back with trembling fingers, his usual smugness cracking under genuine concern.
“you didn’t even call me,” he murmurs, voice dipping low. “two days, angel. two days. i almost broke into your classes like a psycho sugar daddy with a god complex.”
you sniffle, leaning into his palm. “didn’t wanna make you worry…”
“i always worry about you,” he says, exasperated. “that’s, like, half my personality. haven’t you noticed?”
and then, of course, he softens — because he’s a menace, but he’s your menace. satoru stands, scooping you into his arms like you weigh nothing. you squirm, mumbling protests, but your limbs are too heavy, and his arms are warm.
“shut up. we’re doing this,” he says, already carrying you to your bed. “you’re sleeping somewhere with actual blankets and no tissue graveyard. jesus, babe, this whole place smells like menthol and heartbreak.”
he sets you down carefully, tucking the blankets around you like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. he presses a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then lingers near your lips, hesitant.
“can i…? or am i gonna get the plague?”
you pout. “you’ll get sick.”
“worth it,” he says immediately, leaning down and giving you the softest kiss — just enough pressure to make your heart ache, his thumb brushing your cheek like he’s scared you’ll disappear.
when he pulls back, he’s grinning again, wicked this time. “besides, i bet i’d look hot with a fever. you’d have to nurse me back to health in, like, a slutty little nurse outfit. win-win, right?”
you roll your eyes, but your smile gives you away. “you’re impossible.”
“and you’re my favorite stupid little college girl who forgets to eat when she’s sick.” his hands are already sliding under the covers, slipping around your waist, pulling you close. “so now i’m gonna hold you like a clingy teddy bear, make you drink water, and maybe talk about how good you’d look drooling all over my shirt.”
you snort. “what happened to concern?”
“baby, i am concerned. but i’m also very horny, emotionally overwhelmed, and tragically in love with you. deal with it.”
you let him spoon you from behind, his breath warm on your neck, his body a furnace. his fingers trace lazy circles on your stomach, lips brushing your shoulder.
“next time you’re sick,” he mumbles, “you better call me. i swear to god, i’ll tattoo my number on your forehead if that’s what it takes.”
you nod sleepily, and satoru kisses the shell of your ear.
“good girl.”
GETO SUGURU
he doesn’t knock.
he doesn’t need to — your spare key has been hanging on his keyring for months now, worn from use. suguru opens your door slowly, shoulders tense under his tailored black coat, hair pulled into a lazy low bun like he didn’t even bother styling it this morning. he’s been in meetings all day, working too much, sleeping too little — and now, he’s standing in your apartment, greeted by silence and dim, static air.
“baby?”
his voice is low, velvety, laced with concern that makes your stomach twist. it’s the first time you’ve heard him in two days. you were too sick, too dizzy, too caught up in your own haze of shivers and aching limbs to call him, even though you wanted to. god, you wanted to.
you hear his steps grow closer, steady and measured, then stop right in front of your bedroom door. it creaks open. his tall frame fills the doorway.
and that’s all it takes.
your throat tightens immediately, and like a switch flipped, you burst into tears. snotty, pathetic, breathless sobs that hit you harder than you expected. your voice cracks as you try to speak, but nothing coherent comes out — just a whimper, an ugly sniffle, and a tremble in your bottom lip.
“suguru…” you croak, eyes watery as you sit up on the bed.
his expression falters for half a second — just a flicker of panic under the cool surface. he moves toward you so fast it’s like instinct, dropping his bag to the floor and shrugging off his coat in one motion.
but you beat him to it.
you swing your legs over the edge of the bed with all the theatrical effort of a dying victorian bride, forcing your shaky body upright. it makes your vision spin, but you don’t care — you throw your arms open dramatically, like some sad, flu-stricken princess summoning her knight.
“hold me,” you sniffle, hiccupping through the tears. “i’m sick and miserable and ugly, and i think i’m dying.”
he blinks. then huffs a breath — a soft, low laugh, like he doesn’t know whether to kiss you or scold you.
“you’re the most dramatic little brat i’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, but he’s already on his knees in front of you, pulling you into his chest. his arms wrap around you fully, palms spread over your back as he tucks your face into the crook of his neck.
“i missed you,” you whimper into his skin, voice cracking. “i was too dizzy to text you and i tried to make soup but it just turned into sadness—”
“shh,” he whispers, stroking your hair gently. “breathe, baby. you’re okay now.”
you cling to him like a koala, fists bunching the back of his shirt. your body sags in his arms, and he holds you up without flinching, like he wants to carry your weight, all of it — your illness, your loneliness, your melodramatic sniffles.
“two days without you and i already look like a corpse,” you mumble. “my skin’s grey. i’m withering.”
he chuckles against your hair, then pulls back just enough to cup your flushed cheeks. “hm. dramatic. needy. sick. crying in my arms like a heartbroken soap opera wife.” his thumb brushes your bottom lip. “you know that’s kind of hot, right?”
you blink. “i’m literally disgusting right now.”
“you’re my favorite disgusting little creature,” he says, and kisses your forehead. “now lie back. i’m going to order real food, give you meds, and make you drink water even if i have to hold your nose shut.”
you sniffle again, eyes fluttering shut as you nuzzle into his chest.
“you’re gonna spoil me,” you mumble.
he smiles, kissing your hair.
“i already do, sweetheart.”
his hand trails lower under the blanket, slipping to your waist, possessive and warm.
“and after you stop looking like a dying victorian girl,” he murmurs by your ear, voice dipping low, “i’m gonna spoil you in other ways.”
you groan into his chest, heat blooming in your cheeks. “gross.”
“mm. you love it.”
and he’s right. because even at your worst — sick, crying, clingy — suguru geto looks at you like you’re the only thing that’s ever made his life worth slowing down for.
NANAMI KENTO
he should’ve come sooner.
the thought pounds in his head, rhythmic and steady like the ticking of his watch as he pushes into your apartment with a key he made you give him months ago — “for emergencies,” you said, laughing. but this feels like one. you hadn’t texted him back in two days, and that’s unlike you. you were always eager to reply, dramatic even in your “i miss you” messages. so when the silence stretched into a second night, nanami ended his meeting mid-sentence, picked up his coat, and walked out without an ounce of hesitation.
the moment he steps inside, he knows something’s wrong.
your apartment smells off — like the sour tang of sickness masked under old lavender candles. he closes the door quietly, gaze sharp as he sets down his briefcase and calls your name once, calmly.
no answer.
the bathroom light is on.
and then he hears it — the retching.
nanami’s blood runs cold. he moves fast, faster than you’d ever expect from the man who lectures you about walking too quickly indoors. the bathroom door is cracked open. inside, you’re slumped on the cold tile, hugging the toilet bowl, trembling and feverish. your hoodie is sticking to your back with sweat, your knees red from the floor.
you don’t hear him. not until his calm, familiar voice cuts through the haze.
“sweetheart.”
your head jerks up weakly. your voice comes out hoarse, cracking. “kento…?”
he doesn’t say anything at first — just takes a slow breath and kneels beside you, sleeves rolled up in one fluid motion. his tie dangles over your shoulder as he brushes your damp hair back gently, then reaches for the towel nearby to wipe your mouth. his hand doesn’t shake, but his jaw clenches. tight.
“how long has this been happening?” he asks softly, but there’s steel under it. restrained panic. the kind that only surfaces when something he cares about is suffering — and you are the only one who makes him lose control like this.
you sniffle, dazed. “since last night… thought it would pass…”
“and you didn’t call me.”
“you were working,” you mumble. “didn’t wanna stress you out.”
nanami lets out a breath. a sharp one. he gently presses the back of his hand to your forehead, his frown deepening. you’re burning up.
“you’re shaking,” he mutters. “you’re not staying in here another second.”
“but i threw up—”
“exactly why you’re not staying in here,” he says firmly.
and that’s when your vision blurs again, but this time with hot tears. you cover your face with your hands, voice cracking like glass. “i feel gross, kento. i smell disgusting. my mouth tastes like death. i wanted to clean up before you came and now you’re seeing me like this—”
he doesn’t let you spiral.
his hands, large and warm, wrap around your wrists and gently pull them from your face. he leans in, forehead to yours, voice calm but low.
“you think any of that matters to me?” he whispers. “you’re sick. and you’re mine. i don’t care if you smell like hell. you’re still the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen.”
you sniff, swallowing another sob. “i look like a wet rat.”
he presses a kiss to your damp forehead. “then you’re my wet rat.”
and despite everything, you laugh — a weak, wet, pitiful sound, but it makes him smile.
then he lifts you. no warning. one smooth motion, as if you weigh nothing. your arms cling to his neck, dizzy and lightheaded as he carries you out of the bathroom and down the hall.
“where—?”
“bed? no,” he says, striding straight past it. “you’re burning up and soaked through.”
he stops in front of your closet and kicks it open gently. “clean clothes,” he mutters. “then i’m drawing you a bath.”
you blink. “aren’t you going to let me change myself?”
he looks at you, unimpressed. “do you really think i’m letting you stand on your own right now?”
you pout. “you’re bossy when i’m sick.”
“i’m bossy because you’re reckless and dramatic and refuse to call me when you need help,” he says, setting you down on the edge of your bed. his hands reach up, unzipping your hoodie with such care it makes your breath catch. “and if you ever do this again, i swear to god—”
you reach out weakly, tugging at his tie. “you’ll what?”
he leans in, gaze dark and heavy.
“i’ll handcuff you to my bed and monitor your temperature every hour until you learn your lesson.”
your eyes go wide. “…is that a threat or a promise?”
his lips curl into the barest smirk.
“both.”
TOJI FUSHIGURO
you were crying. again.
but not soft, delicate tears — oh no. it was messy, snotty, full-volume dramatic sobbing, the kind you’d only let out in the privacy of your kitchen, hunched over like some tragic figure in a bad medical drama.
the bottle of meds sat in front of you. sealed. stupid. evil.
and your fingers? useless. trembling. too weak to twist it open. your body had already betrayed you all day — shivering under five blankets, sweating through them an hour later, barely able to sit up without seeing stars. and this goddamn childproof bottle was the final straw.
“open,” you whispered hoarsely, turning it with your palms, your arms shaking.
“open, please… i’m not strong enough, oh my god. i’m a weak pathetic little victorian widow.”
you tried again. failed again.
your bottom lip quivered.
you dropped your head onto the counter with a dramatic thunk.
“this is it,” you wailed to no one. “this is how i die. taken out by a five-dollar bottle of generic tylenol.”
and that was, of course, the exact moment the front door opened with a heavy thud.
of course it was toji.
he was supposed to be out — working, training, maybe casually intimidating someone. but no. your hot mess of a dramatic arc just had to intersect with him at the peak of your suffering.
“you better not be on the floor again,” his voice called out dryly.
you gasped. “toji—!”
and in he walked, black shirt clinging to his chest, hair still slightly wet from the shower he probably took at the gym, eyebrow cocked in that way — the one that said he knew he was walking into bullshit.
he paused at the kitchen doorway.
you were curled in front of the counter, shaking like a leaf in your hoodie and fuzzy socks, cradling the bottle of meds in your hands like it was your last hope.
your eyes, glossy with fever and tears, locked on him like he was salvation.
“babe,” you croaked, dramatic hand on your heart. “i’m too weak. i need you.”
his face was unreadable.
then he sighed.
“you can’t open your meds bottle?”
“no,” you sobbed. “i tried. i begged. i even yelled at it. and it laughed at me, toji.”
he walked over slowly. “the bottle laughed at you?”
“with its silence.”
“you’re outta your damn mind.”
you whimpered as he took the bottle from your hands like it was the easiest thing in the world. he twisted it open with one hand. one hand.
your mouth dropped open in betrayal.
“don’t gloat,” you muttered.
“i didn’t say anything.”
“you were thinking it. i can hear your thoughts. they’re all smug and condescending.”
toji plucked two pills out, popped them in your hand. “yeah? what else are my thoughts saying?”
“they’re saying, ‘wow, my girlfriend’s so weak and small and pitiful, i could crush her with one hand.’”
he snorted, pushing the water bottle toward you.
“i’d rather use the one hand to spank you next time you act like an idiot instead of calling me.”
your eyes widened. “i was preserving your peace!”
“and i’m preserving your life, you dramatic little shit.”
you downed the meds, still sniffling. “i want chicken soup and cuddles.”
“yeah? say please.”
you glared at him.
he leaned down, grabbed you by the back of the thighs, and lifted you up with zero warning, tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of rice.
you squealed. “toji—!”
“you want cuddles? you get ‘em after soup. and no more dying alone in the kitchen, dumbass.”
you whined into his back, but your fingers were already gripping the hem of his shirt, safe and secure.
he set you on the couch, tucked you in aggressively, and went back to the kitchen to slam pots around. the bottle of meds still sat on the counter, now open. completely defeated.
you glared at it from your blanket cocoon.
“i hope you fall off the counter and roll under the fridge, you little bitch.”
“what was that?” toji called.
“nothing, babe! love you!”
“that’s what i thought.”
RYOMEN SUKUNA
he knew something was off the second he walked through the door.
your apartment was dark. quiet. no sounds of you stomping around, no dramatic voice echoing from the bedroom about how he never refills the snacks or always leaves his rings on the counter like you’re his damn butler.
nothing.
just silence.
and sukuna?
he doesn’t do silence when it comes to you.
so his voice comes loud, sharp. “oi. where the fuck are you?”
no answer.
he’s already heading down the hall, jaw tight, fingers twitching like he’s ready to rip the universe in half if it’s taken you from him. he calls for you again—louder this time. still nothing. until—
a soft, pathetic sound.
gagging.
choking.
then… sniffling.
he throws open the bathroom door and freezes.
you’re on the cold tile, curled up dramatically beside the toilet like a tragic heroine in some bad romance movie. your hair is a mess, face flushed with fever, nose red, eyes glassy with tears. you’re shivering in one of his oversized shirts, legs tucked up like a child. and you’re talking to yourself.
rambling.
like you’re saying goodbye.
“tell… tell my mom i loved her,” you whisper hoarsely to no one. “and you can have my manga… just not the signed ones. bury me with those. and don’t let that bitch from the office come to my funeral—”
sukuna blinks. hard.
“what. the fuck,” he growls, stepping in. “are you doing?”
you gasp, like he’s a ghost. “sukuna? is that you? i can’t see, i’m so cold—”
he crouches beside you instantly, hands grabbing your face. your skin is clammy. lips dry. eyes dramatic as hell.
you’re not dying.
you’ve just been throwing up for hours and working yourself into a spiral.
“are you fuckin’ kidding me right now?” he hisses, brushing your hair back, eyes scanning every inch of you. “you didn’t call. didn’t text. didn’t scream at me for buying the wrong brand of tea. i thought someone killed you.”
you sniffle, grabbing his wrist with trembling fingers. “i tried to crawl to the kitchen… to get water… but then i thought, what’s the point? i’m dying anyway—”
he looks like he’s two seconds from slamming his fist into the wall.
“you’ve got a stomach bug. not the plague. stop acting like you’re in a fuckin’ soap opera.”
“easy for you to say,” you croak. “you’re not the one rotting from the inside out.”
sukuna lets out a sound that’s half-growl, half-laugh, and scoops you into his arms like you weigh nothing. you cling to him instantly, arms locking around his neck like a koala.
“don’t cremate me,” you mumble into his throat. “i wanna be dramatic even in death. open casket. fake lashes. maybe some light fog and music—”
he cuts you off with a sharp slap to your thigh. “shut up.”
you gasp, offended. “did you just spank me on my deathbed?!”
“you’re not dying,” he growls, carrying you to the bed. “but if you keep talking, i’ll kill you myself.”
you whimper pitifully in his arms. “then… will you at least keep my diary? the one hidden in the closet behind the shoe box? don’t read it—”
“i’ve already read it.”
“what?!”
he lays you down gently, brushing his thumb across your damp cheek.
“you wrote about me in it,” he says, voice low and dangerous now, “every page. even the ones where you were mad. you love me so much it’s pathetic.”
you sniff, cheeks heating up. “i’m allowed to be obsessed with you. it’s your fault.”
he leans down, face inches from yours. “and i’m gonna baby you so hard after this that you’re gonna wish you died, brat.”
“you promise?” you whisper.
his eyes flash with something possessive, raw, feral.
“yeah,” he says, dragging his thumb along your bottom lip, “but only after i get some fluids in you. and not the kind you’re thinking, you filthy little goblin.”
you smile weakly.
and sukuna — your unhinged, dangerous, older boyfriend — tucks you into bed, curses the germs under his breath, and spends the entire night at your side.
because dramatic or not… you’re his.
and he’s not letting you go.
SHIU KONG
he had a key.
of course he had a key. he demanded it after you once locked yourself out at 3 a.m. wearing nothing but a t-shirt and one sock, sobbing over forgotten dumplings. "never again," he’d muttered, shoving the key into his wallet with the same reverence he gave blackmail material.
he wasn’t expecting the door to be unlocked today.
or to hear… whimpering.
low, pitiful, echoing from somewhere deeper in the apartment.
“babe?” he calls out, already slipping off his shoes. his voice carries a lazy calm, the kind he always uses when he’s preparing for bullshit. “you better not be doing something stupid again.”
he turns the corner and freezes.
you’re on the floor.
literally on the floor, crawling toward the kitchen like a Victorian orphan in the final act. your blanket is trailing behind you like a cape, your hair a mess, eyes glassy with tears as you stretch your trembling hand toward the counter like it’s the promised land.
you pause, mid-drag, and look up at him with the most heartbroken face he’s ever seen.
“i dropped… my toast…”
shiu blinks.
you sniffle. “it fell jelly-side down.”
his lips twitch. “oh no.”
“and then i got dizzy.”
“mhm.”
“and i think the floor is sucking the life out of me, shiu.”
he’s walking toward you now, casually, like he’s not biting back a laugh. “you’re telling me… you belly-crawled like a war hero because you dropped toast?”
“i’m starving. i haven’t eaten in days.”
he bends down, squats beside you, one elbow resting on his knee as he watches you dramatically paw at the floor like you’re about to fade into the afterlife.
“you had broth.”
“broth isn’t food. it’s liquid regret.”
shiu snorts. actually snorts. “you’re outta your mind.”
but his voice is gentler now, and without warning, he slips an arm under your waist and another beneath your knees, lifting you like you weigh nothing. you yelp, clinging to his shirt.
“shiu! put me down! i was making progress!”
“toward what? an oscar?”
“toward the toaster!”
he carries you to the couch instead, ignoring your weak little kicks as he deposits you like a fragile treasure, tucks your blanket around you like he hasn’t seen you cry over expired yogurt before, then leans in close.
his voice drops, soft and dangerous.
“next time you wanna reenact your dramatic death, text me first, sweetheart.”
“i didn’t wanna bother you.”
“you’re my favorite kind of bother.”
you blink up at him, pout trembling.
“you’re such an asshole.”
he grins, brushes your hair back gently with a sigh. “but i’m your asshole.”
and then he disappears into the kitchen, mumbling something about how he’s going to make toast the size of your face and spoon-feed you if you try to crawl again.
he does.
he even cuts it into heart shapes.
he just won’t admit it.
HIROMI HIGURUMA
he knew something was off the second he called and you didn’t answer.
you always answered. even if it was just a groggy voice telling him you hated his ringtone and to never call you again. so when he’d finished his meeting, walked out of the courthouse with his tie loosened and a coffee he didn’t even want, and still hadn’t heard from you?
his stomach turned.
fifteen minutes later, he was at your apartment door, unlocking it with the key you gave him the night you first got sick and told him he was your emergency contact “because you look like you’d yell at doctors for me.”
he pushes the door open.
“...hello?”
silence.
and then—
soft sniffles. pen scratching paper. a dramatic sigh.
he follows the sound to the living room and—
freezes.
there you are. wrapped in a blanket like a sad little lump, sitting cross-legged on the floor with your head resting against the coffee table. a whole stack of napkins laid out in front of you like legal documents, each one written in your slightly-shaky, overly-loopy script.
he walks closer, blinking at the one closest to him.
“to my beloved hiromi: you can have my succulents, even though you always forget to water them. i forgive you. i love you. tell my cat i said bye.”
his brow twitches. “...what the hell is this?”
you jump, head snapping up like a child caught drawing on the walls. your eyes are watery and dramatic, red from crying, your nose a little stuffy and your cheeks flushed from fever. you clutch a pen like it’s a quill and you’re writing your last will before war.
“you came,” you whisper.
“yeah. what the hell is going on.”
you sniffle, voice soft and shaking. “i think i’m dying.”
he looks at the box of tissues, the half-empty bottle of cough syrup, and the room-temperature cup of tea on the table.
“you have a cold.”
“a terminal one.”
he sighs, long-suffering but fond, dropping the briefcase onto the floor with a soft thud.
“you sent me twelve napkin letters. in one of them you said i can have your pinterest password when you die.”
“you should know what i liked. to mourn properly.”
“you also left the air fryer to nanami.”
“he said he liked it once!”
he crouches down in front of you, long legs folding easily, eyes scanning your flushed face. he lifts a hand to press it gently to your forehead.
“jesus,” he mutters. “you’re burning up.”
you gaze at him with tear-filled devotion. “if i go, you have to be the one to eulogize me. make it sound like i was sexy and mysterious.”
“you’re congested and covered in napkins.”
“so was marilyn monroe probably.”
hiromi lets out a soft breath. then he leans forward, gathering you into his arms with a slow, practiced motion, your blanket and all, lifting you gently until you’re in his lap, cheek pressed against his shoulder.
you melt into him instantly, mumbling, “i left you my lip balm too. don’t let another girl use it.”
he hums. presses a kiss to your forehead.
“don’t worry, angel. you’re not dying.”
“you sound like a lawyer.”
“i am one. and i can legally promise you’re going to be fine.”
you grumble something about rewriting your will just in case, and he lets you. even picks up a fresh napkin for you and hands you your glitter pen with a quiet, indulgent smile.
“just let me make you some soup after,” he murmurs. “and then i’ll read every one of your dramatic goodbyes.”
“even the one where i left you my collection of embarrassing texts?”
“especially that one.”
he holds you tighter. his voice soft, but his touch firm. grounding. safe.
because for all your chaos, he wouldn’t be anywhere else.
#jjk x reader#geto x reader#gojo x reader#nanami x reader#toji x reader#sukuna x reader#shiu x reader#higuruma x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#gojo satoru x reader#jjk fluff#jjk drabble#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#gojo satoru fluff#geto fluff#nanami fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#sukuna fluff#toji fluff#gojo fluff#jjk x you#higuruma fluff#shiu fluff#jujutsu kaisen imagines#fem!reader#anime fluff#geto suguru x reader#gojo satoru#toji fushiguro
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Escort! Satoru- part three
Pairings- Escort Satoru Gojo x shy CEO F! reader
Warnings- eventually explicit sex, freaky but fluffy- this part- obsessed ass/whipped ass Gojo, mentions of sex work, oral (f receiving) panty stealing hehe, fingering, reader is HELLA rich and Satoru is almost a sugar baby lmao, fluffy/sweet, tension - lots of it- he becomes lowkey/highkey Yan tbh, pretty woman vibes 🤭
This will be a fun set of drabbles in this style! I hope you all enjoy them lmk if you wanna get tagged in the next parts <3
<<<Part Two - Part Four>>>
Escort! Satoru 'How much for twenty minutes of your time?' your words halt him now, his hand on the doorknob, cock immediately hard, throbbing at just the sound of your voice, the intent there behind it something he's just been fantasizing about day in and day out since he first met you. 'Twenty minutes?' He puts a smirk on his face, turning to face you now, lowering those black Gucci shades just a bit, as you sit there on that desk like a whole fucking meal, sexy business skirt slipping up your thighs just so. 'Twenty minutes of my company?' he turns the lock with a resounding click, dress shoes clicking on the hardwood floors slowly, as he steps closer, until he's leaning over you. 'And what do you want in this twenty minutes?'
Escort! Satoru watches as your eyes lower, nervously shifting, as his hand slips up a thigh, gently pushing it down, so he can step right between your legs. 'Anything you're comfortable with, Satoru... I'd never ask for anything you don't want to do' why do your sweet words have to make his heart race!? Even faced with finally getting more of your time, he also can't take just how much you mean to him, how deeply he fucking feels for you in this moment already. 'I'm comfortable doing anything to your pretty body' he says then, watching your eyes dilate, your lips part, his hands slipping your skirt up just a bit over your stockings. 'So you just say what you want, sweetheart' your hand trails down his abdomen, as you whisper 'I want you to make me cum, please'
Escort! Satoru has your back pressed right on your desk now, shoving stacks of papers out of the way, you gasp at the quick motion, when he shoves your skirt all the way up, revealing black garters adorning your thighs, and already soaked black panties, which he peels down. 'Your eyes... let me...' you take off his glasses with a shaky hand, setting them next to you, revealing those baby blues with snowy lashes lowered. 'They're so pretty... Satoru, are we...' he chuckles, but inhales when he sees your perfect cunt, the strings of sticky cum attached to the panties, moaning at the sight. 'We're not fucking in just twenty minutes, no sweetheart, even if you beg, I'm not busting that fast' your thighs are shaking then, breaths quicker as he pulls those panties fully off, you don't see that he tucks them in his pocket, all you see is him get on his knees.
Escort! Satoru parts your swollen lips with two long fingers, revealing the wetness just drooling from your little hole, he feels your hands grip his expensive black suit as he breathes on it, then inhales your scent, watching the little clit twitch just from that, hearing your soft little whimper. 'Satoru um... you're... ah!' You have to slam a hand on your mouth, what if someone fucking heard you!? This is insane, you're acting so crazy for this man. You see Satoru's brilliant blue eyes looking up, lidded with desire, when he presses a kiss right over your hood, letting your lips slip back together, his fingers now shoving your thighs farther, pressing into them. 'I'm going to have you cum all over my face, sweets, you can pay my fee after' you're done once he's slipped a tongue up your slit, screaming out into your hand, cunt clenching around nothing.
Escort! Satoru is clearly a fucking expert, you've not been with anyone in so long, that just a flick of his tongue destroys you, blood rushing in your ears while your other hand grips his silky white locks. 'Mmm, taste s'fucking good, fuck...' your hips arch, as he starts lapping up your slit, to your little clit, sucking it into his hot mouth now, you're gasping in pleasure, cunt pulsing and pouring more and more arousal for his hungry mouth. 'Oh my god, Satoru... mnh!' your soft, pleading whisper makes him so hard it hurts, he's rubbing himself over his pants then, leaking precum, while your thighs close in on his head. 'Lemme see how many times I can have you cum, set the timer' he says, grinning when he stands, slipping two fingers in your snug little channel.
Escort! Satoru watches you grab your phone with shaky hands, eyeing the time. 'fifteen left, sweets' he murmurs, leaning over you as he curls his fingers up in gummy walls, slick coating you, and you set it, his lips so close to you, you can damn near taste yourself. 'You don't kiss, but you...' Satoru sighs, breath tickling your lips as you bite your lower lip, hand pulling on his tie now. 'This is five star treatment, reserved for very...' he presses a kiss on you neck, your breasts that are peeking from your blouse, 'very.... very special clients only' his fingers curl just so, you scream out against your palm again, as Satoru's close to busting watching you, tasting your sweetness on his lips. 'there's once' he's sitting you up higher as you're spasming around his fingers, sitting right in your office chair now, burying his face back between your thighs again, yanking you against him.
Escort! Satoru has the next orgasm all over his face, fuck he's drowning in you, lewd, wet squelching sounds echoing in your pretty bright office. 'That's it, cum again, let me drink you up, slutty little cunt loves it, huh?' no one has ever spoke this way, no one has devoured you like this, your hoarse voice cries out when his tongue flicks over and over again. 'Satoru, oh my god, t-too much I...' he laughs a bit, fingers scissoring in and out of your soppy hole, raising a brow. 'C'mon, you can give me one more, can't you baby?' baby, the word echoes as you nod, helpless, trying to remember, this was his job, his career, that it's just that, nothing more. But how can you when he's pulled you by the fat of your ass, and his face is fucking buried against you!? As he's drinking your soaking wetness all up, as you shatter, cumming so hard you almost fucking faint, you can't even see.
Escort! Satoru presses one more kiss, smirking as you twitch, thighs shaking, your breaths coming so quick, your grip so tight on his hair it hurts, but it hurts so good. 'Satoru, fuck you're... some pussy eating prodigy like...' he snorts in laughter now, easing his fingers out, coated and dripping with you, making you heat up, when he places them against your lips. 'Open' you eagerly listen, sucking his long fingers, as the timer sets off, you hastily shut it off, tasting your sweetness on him, as he watches your flushed face, your glittery eyes. 'Look at you, so pretty, so fucked out, already...' you pull back your lips with a pop, running your fingers down his hard abdomen, dying to know what he looks like. 'Let me make you cum' he pauses then, because one fucking flick of your tongue and he'd probably bust all over. 'twenty minutes is over, I'm afraid'
Escort! Satoru earns a cute little pout, as you close your thighs, grabbing the phone, that bracelet glinting. 'How much?' you ask softly, Satoru eyes your bare ears, thinking next he'll buy you pretty earrings to dangle off them. 'Twenty minutes? Four hundred.' His price should freak you out, but you don't bat a pretty eyelash, his phone dings, and you've sent eight hundred instead, making him eye you. 'I said four-' you shake your head. 'Worth it' you hop off your desk, wobbling just a bit, he has to steady you now, pressing kisses against your head, so affectionate you can hardly stand it. 'Why does a girl like you need me, hmm? Have you fucking seen yourself?' He tilts your chin up, some underlying feelings pour through then, you hate how he fucking talks about himself suddenly, like he's nothing. 'Have you seen yourself, Satoru?' he blinks a bit then, lips just a centimeter apart, Satoru doesn't kiss clients, right, Satoru doesn't kiss anyone really, not when he knows that is what really means something, all he can thing of is kissing you.
Escort! Satoru watches you adjust yourself a bit, and you try to gather your papers, your things, putting them back in their rightful places. 'I have an auction I could use a date for, same price as the last charity event okay?' you say softly, Satoru's heart pounds in his chest now. 'Discounted, you're tipping me entirely too much' you giggle a little, brushing your hair back. 'How about I buy you something at the auction you'd like?' Satoru shakes his head. 'shit there is thousands...' you shrug a shoulder. 'And? If you want something I'll buy it, if not I'll just pay the normal. Are you booked Friday though?' Satoru looks at his phone now, you keep repeating to yourself - he's just doing this for his job, his money, that's it- don't get too attached. 'Nope, nothing' Satoru says, as he clears three jobs away, high paying, but he damn sure wouldn't turn down another time with you.
Escort! Satoru takes your hand, kissing the back of it with glossy, plump lips - fuck they're glossy from you - winking and playing it off so cool, like his heart's not pounding in his chest. And he tries to remember- he's just a convenience, right, he's just good at pleasing, good at acting. He can't fall so deep to think he could be more for a girl like you, watching color decorate your precious cheeks as you smile. 'Next time... if you're comfortable after...' your hand brushes against his cock, eliciting a whimper you think you must have mis heard, eyeing him now. 'I'd like to please you back' he clears his throat, precum making him stick to his boxers. 'Oh would you, shouldn't I pay you for that, baby?' you're giggling now. 'What!?' he just shakes his head. 'I don't think I could take pay for you pleasing me, but... we'll see, I'll be there.' You nod a bit. 'It's a date, then.' your casual words make you both pause, but he grins now. 'Mhmm, see ya sweets'
Escort! Satoru doesn't know why but the thought of charging you to suck him, charging you for anything, feels... off. weird. wrong. You're still going over it all in your mind, when suddenly you realize you don't have your panties. You're trying to find them, panicking, what if a client walks in and they're thrown somewhere!? You pause then, surely he... 'Satoru...' he picks up the phone, already in the back of his driver's car, stroking a hard cock. 'What is it, sweetheart? need twenty more minutes?' you laugh a bit. 'It's gonna sound insane, but... where are my panties? did you put them somewhere?' your whisper makes him pause, mid stroke, pulling them out of his pocket now. 'Panties... I think I just... had them on the desk?' you curse a bit, as he grins, putting them against his face and biting back a moan. 'Shit, I don't know! Okay... I'll text you the details from the auction.'
Escort! Satoru considers your panties the real tip, hanging up the phone and lapping that wetness off them, flavor coating his tastebuds with you, the phone blings with a location. But Satoru has trouble focusing, instead whining out at the thought of being inside of you, pretty little CEO, who's paying him far, far too much, so much so he's canceled his appointment that day too, he can't focus on anything but you, anyway. You give up searching for your panties, surely he wouldn't have taken them... but little do you know he's using the silk to stroke himself, busting his hot white load all against the fabric, shaking as he looks at the mess he made. He needs some practice, is all, before he can handle you, that's all it is, practice... right? He can't stop thinking about you, like a madness, until he's ready to see you again, and one thought rushes through his head as he meets you that night in your gorgeous red dress -
He wants to kiss you.
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#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojo smut#satoru gojo x you#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x you#jjk smut#satoru gojo x female reader#divider by strangergraphics#satoru smut#gojo headcanons#yandere gojo#just a bit hehe
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This man got me listening to All I Want For Christmas Is You in the middle of May I'm so done for
#I JUST WANNA SEE MY BABY STANDING RIGHT OUTSIDE MY DOORRRR#hc that the onceler looooves christmas#he's the kinda guy to start decorating for christmas the second halloween is over#he loves alllll the overplayed christmas songs#he loves giving gifts even if he's never gotten much in return...... AAAAAUGH#i wanna get him something or make him something and make him feel loved mannnnn#i wanna show him that he's not obligated to his shitty family!!!!! he doesn't owe them anything!!!!!#you already know he has tinsel and holidays lights and what have you that he decorated the trees with#and he knit sweaters and scarves for the barbaloots since it's getting cold#and the lorax says that it's awfully silly and redundant- they already have their barbaloot suits!#but he stops complaining when the onceler makes him a sweater too akfjdsf#ohh and the onceler all bundled up with his big ol scarf and earmuffs and mittens and a big coat.......#the trees bending a little from the weight of the snow on them and when he walks under a tree all the snow falls off and lands on him aklfs#adn the mistletoe.............#he sets it up and thinks he's soooo slick and then when he realizes they're about to kiss he's a flustered mess aklfjsdf#and artic putting a hand on his cheek and his face is all red addnsdnfdnff..........#kissa smoocha himb...........#adn artic's ears get red really easilyyy adn she does this cute little squeak and his hands are so soft and his face is soft adnlkfs.......#i love himmm <3#myyyy sugar snap my sweet pea my cherry pie my iced tea <3#my nonsense#silly self-indulgent tag
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I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF - SATORU GOJO
✴︎ summary: aka sugar daddy! gojo. when you accompany your friends to a bar rich men and women frequent, you catch the eye of a certain white-haired rich man, who is more than willing to spoil you -- in more than one way. ✴︎ contents: 18+, a lot of smut, fluffy, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, virgin!reader, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), but w/ feelings, semi-public sex, sex in a changing room, lingerie, nipple play, first time sex ✴︎ wc: 9,065
This had to be the dumbest idea you had let yourself be convinced to do.
You sat in a bar, nursing a soda instead of a drink (because it was all you could afford), and you glanced at your group of friends who had all split off to chat up a different man. And meanwhile, there you were, at the bar alone.
Your friends had seen a video or article online with a list of places that rich men tended to frequent, and after another dinner of instant ramen and looking at your dwindling bank account, you let yourself be dragged along to this bar.
You were surprised how easy it was for you all to be let in, but you supposed young clientele also helped to attract the rich ones the bar was really after. It was the perfect place to find a sugar daddy, or mommy. In your case, you were hoping to just find someone who would pay your bills month to month and possibly your tuition. But now you were just hoping someone would talk to you, much less anything else.
You had sat here for about twenty minutes, and not a single person had approached you — you had felt a few men and women alike eye you, but none had spoken even a word to you. Heat crept up your cheeks and insecurities bit at your nerves as you stirred your drink absentmindedly — you were such an idiot— you should have just stayed in today, snuggled up in bed and watched Netflix—
“Mind if I sit here?” And your gaze snaps from your flat soda, ocean blue eyes stopping your breath in its tracks, his lips curled in all too tempting smile, and his snowy locks just tousled enough to look natural.
“Not at all,” you manage to say, surely you were gonna catch flies if you didn’t pick up your jaw off the floor. He was gorgeous — as he slid into the stool beside you, his baby blue button up showed off his toned physique, his sleeves rolled up, as he looked over the menu.
“Can I order you a drink?” a smile on his lips as he offered you the menu — non-presumptuous and didn’t order your drink for you — was he even real?
“Just another soda, I don’t drink often, and I’m the designated driver for tonight,” though, as you glanced at your groupchat, you didn’t think many of your friends would be making it back tonight, at least not with you.
“A woman after my own heart— two sodas please,” he ordered, “I’m not a huge fan of alcohol either. I prefer things that are sweet,” and his gaze slides over your body, “are you?”
And you flush, trying to look nonchalant as your drinks arrive, “Take a guess,” and he hums, as he takes a careful sip of his drink, eyeing you.
“Oh sweetheart, I don’t guess — I intend to know,” your eyes snap to his, playful mirth in his eyes, “and if you have a price, I’m more than willing to pay it,” he places his platinum credit card on the bar, sliding it to the bartender, “start a tab for me and the beauty right here,” he flashed a wink at you.
Even though this is exactly what you had come “You don’t have to—“
“But I want to,” he leans forward, his lengthy fingers brushing against your hand, giving you ample time to withdraw, but you don’t, your fingers intertwining with his, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles, “you deserve to be taken care of, sweetheart,”
You bite your lip, “and how do you know that? You don’t know me,”
And he tilts his head, a wry grin on his face, “I know enough, baby, and I know that I want to be the one to take care of you,” he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing it against your palm, “now what do you say? I’m sure we can reach an agreement that you’d enjoy,” and his other hand brushes your thigh lightly, “and that I’d enjoy as well,”
Your lips part as you stare at him — he could have anyone he wanted, that much was clear — the wealth, the affluence, not to mention his charm and looks — but he wanted you.
And who were you to say no?
He dropped you home that night, having his driver fetch your car for you after. You both sat in the back of his town car, his hand resting on your thigh, as he spoke to you, his breath warming your skin, as he leaned against you. He didn’t ask to come in or to take you to his place, instead he helped you out of his car, walking you to your apartment’s doorstep. His fingers resch inside his coat pocket, and handed you his business card, his personal number scrawled on the back.
His fingers ghost over your jaw, as he tilts your chin up, the low buzz of the overhead light drowned out by your heart thumping against your ribcage, “Call me, ok?” And you nod wordlessly, breath hitching as he drew close.
“Good girl,” he smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I’ll talk to you soon,” he winks, before heading back to his car, “you won’t regret it.”
But here you sat, staring at his business card the next morning, the only proof that what happened wasn’t a dream, as you lie awake, staring at the number typed into your phone.
Satoru Gojo.
How do you do this? Hey it’s the person you hit on at a bar and propositioned to be a sugar baby?
But you couldn’t get him out of your head — it wasn’t just the money, he was…smooth.
Fuck it.
You go to text him, but fate is cruel, and you hit the call button by mistake. You end the call quickly, and contemplate throwing your phone out the window, when your phone starts flashing with the exact number you had called.
Double fuck.
You panicked, as it rang, then taking a breath and picking the call up, “Hello?”
“Gotta hand it to you, sweetheart, didn’t think you’d be so bold to call me,” Satoru is chuckling over the line, the sounds of the road in the background, and it was clear he was driving somewhere, “but it’s a pleasant surprise,”
“Is it?” you ask, and he hums, a noise that sends heat across your cheeks.
“Very,” he cuts to the chase, cutting over any of the silence that could linger, “could we have dinner tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“I don’t like to waste time when it comes to things I want,” and you’re glad he can’t see you — your knuckles pressed against your lips, “are you free?”
“I am,” you say slowly, “but I wanted to ask, after dinner what would the expectations be?” You had no idea how any of this worked, what the arrangement would be, or how it would be handled.
“There are no expectations except for your time,” he says, “we can take this at your pace, your rules, your limits - we are getting to know each other, and we both happen to want more, I’d be more than happy to make that happen,” and his words nearly make you shiver, “does that sound good, princess?”
“Perfect,” you murmur, and he chuckles, “what time—”
“7:00 PM — I’ll send a car for you. I have your address noted, and I have a little dress picked out for you if you’re comfortable with that?”
You hold your burning cheeks, “Sounds too good to be true,”
And he hums, “Well, perfect,” he echoes you, “because that’s what we both are.”
The car is prompt when picking you up, and your roommates help you get ready — thoroughly jealous when they see a selfie the two of you had taken that night. And then the doorbell rings, and the three of you are rushing towards the door.
“Tell us everything don’t miss a detail,” your roommates yell-whisper, “hot, charming, and so rich? I hate you,”
And you shush them opening the door, as Satoru stands in a blue button up, simple slacks, and a grin that made your knees nearly buckle, “Well I am rich, she ain’t lying,” he offers you a bouquet of flowers — your favorites, all arranged perfectly, “and I’d like to think I’m the others as well,”
“Satoru, they’re beautiful,” you inhale their scent, before you furrow your brow, “how did you know—“
“Lucky guess,” he smiled, fingers finding your own, “I guess we have the same taste in flowers, beautiful — great minds,” and he plucks the flowers and hands it to your roommates, “please take care of these, and I’ll be sure to take care of your gorgeous friend,”
And he’s whisking you into the car, opening the door for you, as he slides in beside you, his arm sliding behind you, “do you mind?”
And your heart squeezes, he’s so close, you could smell his cologne — a musky, amber smell mixed with his own scent — his strong arm brushing against your back, and as you peered up at him, a smile on his parted lips, as he stared at you with his cerulean gaze.
“Not at all.”
God, you were in trouble.
“How’d you like this to work, sweetheart?” And you nearly choke on your drink at his blunt question, dinner now finished, as the two of you wait for dessert, his lips curled in his perfect smile as always, “I just want us to have an understanding, so I don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable,”
You shake your head, “No, you’re right,” dinner had gone on fine — the restaurant he picked was impeccable, the prices must have been astronomical (not a single price on the menu itself), and the atmosphere of the corner booth gave the perfect illusion of privacy, “we should talk about it,”
The financial aspect is simple enough — he offers a stipend that was more money than you could fathom and even consider accepting — but after discussion, you settle on him paying for your tuition and other educational needs as well as a monthly stipend.
“But this doesn’t include anything I choose to treat you to,” he smiles, fingers toying with the hem of the dress, making you almost shiver under his touch, “like this dress or this dinner,”
“Fine,” you smile, gaze still shying away, “there’s still the matter of what I do for you,” you bite your lip, swirling your drink in its glass, “I’ve never done this before,” you admit, tucking a stray strand behind your ear, and he tilts his head.
“Nooo, I would have mistaken you for a pro,” he teases, and your cheeks flush, as you sip your drink, mostly for bravery — that was true, you had never done the sugar daddy thing — but that wasn’t what you meant.
“I mean that too, I’ve never had this sort of arrangement, but,” you toy with the napkin spread across your lap, “I’ve also never…been with anyone before,”
And he pauses mid-sip of whatever fruity drink he had ordered — more juice than alcohol (he didn’t prefer the taste of liquor), “At all?”
You flush, swallowing thickly, as your eyes looked down at your lap, “I’ve been on dates, but never beyond hand holding — I’ve never let it get beyond that,” you never had much an interest, and the people you were interested in had never truly reciprocated— until, you glance at Satoru, now.
He sets his glass down, his lips curled, “but with us — you think there’s a chance that—“ and you squirm under his gaze, “of well—“
And his gaze softens, “You never have to feel obligated to do that — no matter what we agree on for what I can do to help accommodate you, I don’t want you to feel like I’m paying a price for your body,” before he adds with a cheeky smile, “unless that turns you on,”
You huff a laugh out, chewing on your lip, “I appreciate that, but,” you finish the rest of your drink, before sliding closer in the booth, your thigh pressing against his, “I want to know what it’s like,” and you lean forward, all too close, but he dares even closer.
His fingers find your jaw, tilting your gaze up, “And you’re sure, Princess?” his breath warms your lips, and you can smell the sweet smell of his drink on his, “there’s no rush,”
“Who said anything about rushing?” you murmur, and you don’t know if it's the intoxication from the alcohol or from Satoru Gojo himself, but your lips graze his first, barely even. Your lips parted as you brushed your lips for a moment, before sliding away a centimeter, “Satoru—”
But his lips find yours again, fingers cupping your cheek gently, thumb gliding along the soft slope of your cheekbone, “You’re right, you’re not something to be rushed,” he murmurs, words as smooth as velvet, “you’re something to be savored,” and his lips slide against yours, swallowing your gasp as he deepens the kiss with the tilt of your heads, before he’s pulling away, allowing you a moment, “does that mean I’m your first kiss?”
And you nod, with kiss ruined lips parted and chest rising and falling, eyes half lidded with pleasure and excitement — all of which makes him want to kiss you breathless, kiss you silly until you have no thoughts but of him, “I’m sure I’m not yours,” you tease, a small smile on your lips, but a slight anxiety about your inexperience lingering in your words.
He only chuckles, wrapping his arm around you to draw you closer, one hand cupping your jaw and the other sliding through your locks, “But you’re the only one that matters, sweetheart,” and he’s kissing you again, and your lips begin to learn the dance he was teaching you, as he steals your breath and sense in one fell swoop. And when his tongue asks for entrance, he swallows your gasp with a smile, as you part your lips for him. And you swear you almost hear him murmur, “good girl,” between fevered kisses and touches.
Now, his body leaning into you, pressing you against the plush leather of the booth, his hand rested on your thigh now, toying with the hem of the very same dress he had bought you, “Satoru,” you sigh, as your lips finally part a moment, foreheads resting against each other. His eyes take you in, kiss bitten red lips, your cheeks flushed.
His lips kiss your cheeks, and then your forehead, “I think I should take you home,” his thumb rubs against your lips, pulling at the bottom one.
“What about dessert?” and he shakes his head.
“There’s only one dessert I’m craving at the moment,” he murmurs, crystal eyes lidded with lust, as he cups your cheek, “and I wouldn’t be keeping my promise if I indulged, now would i?”
“And if I offered…dessert?” and he makes a noise — a cross between a hiss and a sigh, before shaking his head.
“I want to do this right,” he murmurs, “I know this isn’t a relationship, but it’s like one — and I want you to enjoy it, and if we rush into things, you may end up getting hurt, and not in the enjoyable way,” he pinches the soft flesh of your thigh teasingly, “let’s get you home, princess, and we can plan our next outing, and our next step,”
And you rise, as he helps you out of the booth, as the waiter comes over, “Have you changed your mind about dessert?”
Satoru hands him his card, paying off the tab without even a glance at the receipt, “Yes, I had something far more sweeter and satisfying,” he winks at you, as he pockets his card again. He escorts you to the car, hand resting on the small of your back, his side pressed to yours, as if he was afraid you’d slip away any moment.
The car ride home was spent with quiet conversation and stolen kisses, your hand slid up his thigh to tease him, as his lips slide over a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, both of you moaning lowly, as he stares at you with lidded eyes, “You sure you’ve never done this before?”
“Promise,” you flush, a rush of pride settling into heat as you saw the way he looked at you, before your lips find his again, “but you make me never want to stop,” and he growls lowly, leaning forward his hand snaking around your waist to nearly pin you down on the seat.
“Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self control I have,” he groans, and he’s kissing you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth again, as you slide your hand into his hair, finding smoothness underneath his white locks — an undercut, fuck.
“Maybe I want you to,” you murmur, and he pulls back to look at you with his crystal gaze, dark pools of lust that made you shiver, his fingers digging into your waist.
“Don’t tempt me,” and he’s about to kiss you again, when the driver clears his throat, and the two of you glance out the tinted window and realize you have arrived back home. And the fact of the matter was the car hadn’t been moving for quite some time.
You bite your lip, “Do you want to—”
And he kisses you softly, his fingers tracing over your jaw, “I want to, but we should take this slow,” he presses another kiss to your cheek that only serves to make me pout, “it will be worth it,” and he leans in to kiss your other cheek, but you turn your head to meet his lips in another kiss, making his breath catch, as you pull away with a smirk. His lips parted, as his gaze darkens, “such a tease, princess — I was thinking you were an angel that I was corrupting, but maybe you’re the one doing the corrupting.”
“As I should be,” you grin, before pulling open the door, moving to slide out of the car, “call me?”
“If I don’t, I can always count on you calling me first,” he teases with a wink, “I’ll call tomorrow, dream of me, ok?”
“And if I don’t?” and he laughs, leaning forward with that smile that always made your heart stammer in your chest.
“Oh, you will.”
“Satoru,” you whined, “can we—”
“So impatient,” Satoru chides, chuckle rumbling from his chest, voice deliciously raspy from the makeout session they had just had, “forgot how needy you are, baby,”
And how could you not be? Splayed across his lap, your back pressed to his chest, thighs spread across his now very damp slacks, your dress riding up on either side as his hands slid up your bare legs, his touch teasing enough to have you on edge, your panties growing more drenched by the moment.
“I need—”
“You don’t know what you need,” Satoru murmurs, as his fingers brush your hair aside, “do ya, baby? You just want—” and his fingers finally tease your inner thigh, “more, don’t you? Such a greedy little princess,”
“Only for you,” and that makes him groan in your ear, his lips pressing a kiss behind it, before sucking at your earlobe, “please, Satoru,”
“We have a shopping trip planned, baby, gotta get you some new clothes for our little vacation, don’t we?” He hums, his fingers toying with the edge of your panties, “especially since you keep ruining all of yours,”
“You’re the one ruining them, baby,” you pout, your lips pressing wet kisses along his jaw, “I know we promised to take it slow, but please, I’ve been so good— don’t I deserve a little reward?”
He hums, two fingers pulling and snapping the elastic of your panties against your skin, “Let’s go shopping and I’ll see about your reward, Princess,” and your lips purse, as he chuckles, lips pressing against yours, “don’t worry it will be worth the wait.”
And it was.
That was how you ended up in this particular predicament, pressed against a changing room wall, the black dress he had insisted on you trying on for him, hiked up around your waist, as his thumb pressed against your puffy clit.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, pretty baby?” Satoru coos, his finger beginning to press against the growing wet patch on your panties, “wanted to reward you, and you look so pretty and perfect in this dress, how can I resist?”
And a whine leaves your throat, and he tuts, “Not so loud, don’t want the other shoppers to hear what we’re doing,” and his fingers finally pull aside the crotch of your soaked underwear, “you’re so fuckin’ wet, baby, you sure this pussy is a virgin?”
“Satoru, please,” and he pulls your lips into a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth, right as his finger finally sinks into your needy cunt. He swallows your moans eagerly, as his thick finger curls against your gummy walls, reaching places you were never able to by yourself.
“So fuckin’ tight, sweetheart, gonna break my finger, how would I fit my cock in this tight cunt?” And he drags his bulge against your ass, making you gasp at the size of it, “Gonna have to stretch it out, make you nice and loose for me,”
“Fuck,” you whisper, and he’s grinning as his lips press sweet kisses against your neck, his finger pumping in and out slowly, your slick squelching as he does, finger brushing against that spot that has your knees nearly buckling, “Satoru, I—“
“Already gonna cum, baby?” he’s humming, while your lips try and fail to pout, mouth falling open in a silent moan as your walls flutter around his finger, as he fucks you through your orgasm.
But he’s not stopping, as your hand reaches for him, he’s caught you by the wrist, a second finger sinking into your dripping cunt now, “not done with you yet, pretty baby, I know you got more left for me,” he’s scissoring and stretching your walls - curling his fingers just right so he hits that special spot of yours. And it isn’t long until you’re cumming again, his hand covering your mouth, muffling your moan as you ride his fingers.
“Satoru, please,” you’re nearly crying from the overstimulation, but you’re refusing to use your safe word, as he guides you and him to the seat in the fitting room, sitting on his lap right across from the mirror.
“Look at you, all fucked out and pretty for me,” his fingers under your chin forces you to look at yourself —- your cunt dripping and spread open, his fingers plunged inside you still, your slick dripping down his hand, “so perfect for me,” he murmurs, “think you have one more for me?”
His fingers move slowly, parting your walls, making you gasp, “Too sensitive,” you whine, but he’s sliding your lips against yours again, as his fingers begin to push into you, “Satoru,”
“C’mon baby, this is your reward,” he’s grinning against your lips, “just relax and enjoy it,”
And you don’t know how many more times he makes you cum. By the end, the dress you’re wearing was ruined, damp from the cum dripping down your thighs, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it,” he’s cleaning you up, before sliding your underwear back into place, “now let’s find some other clothes for you, baby — need to get you out of this dress now, don’t we?”
“Do you want to stay over?” Satoru murmurs, his lips pressed to your neck, making you pause, “I’d stay over at your place, but with your roommates we’ll have an audience,” and he adds, “unless you’re into that,”
And you roll your eyes, before smiling, “what would staying over entail?”
“Anything you’d want it to,” he’s kissing your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your lips,“I just want to wake up with you — maybe make breakfast together, maybe a little more if you want to,”
“That sounds perfect,” and you knew just what you wanted for breakfast.
“Princess,” he hissed, his ocean blue eyes half lidded as he stared at you between his thighs, “this isn’t what I meant when I said I’d make you breakfast,”
And you pressed a kiss to his weeping tip — you never expected a cock to be so pretty — but why wouldn’t it be on Satoru Gojo? If a higher being existed, it gave with both hands when it came to him — the tip was flushed red, every vein and curve was perfect, and it was so long.
“Well this was exactly what I had in mind,” you grinned, your tongue flicked against his slit, collecting the pearl of precum resting there, “couldn’t wait to taste you, Toru — if I couldn’t have you fuck my cunt, I might as well have you fuck my mouth,”
He swallows thickly at your words, adam’s apple bobbing, crystalline pools clouded with lust, “Careful what you wish for, Princess,”
“I’m always careful,” you suckle at the swollen tip of his cock sloppily, drawing a moan from his lips. It was clear you were inexperienced — your lips and tongue were clumsy, your fingers grasping at his base were unsure, but the heat in your eyes only made all of your inexperience all the more arousing, “tell me what to do,”
And Satoru swallows thickly, eyes fluttering down at you, as his lips slowly curl, “start by sucking at the tip, slowly at first,” and you do just as he says, all too eager, making him liable to cum on the spot, “now trace the slit at the tip with your tong—” and he grunts as you’re already doing as he says before his sentence is done, “good girl,” and the praise sends a wave of heat through your body, your needy cunt growing wetter by the second.
“Now, want you to slide my cock into your mouth, mind your teeth,” he warns, “no rewards for bad girls who bite my dick — that’s a lesson for a different day,” he adds with a wink, making you hum around his cock, making it twitch, as you take more of his length, slowly sliding it further into your warm mouth.
He’s grunting, holding himself back from fucking your mouth then and there — there would be time for that, but right now, he needed to teach you right.
He was a teacher — first and foremost.
“Just like that, pretty,” he’s moaning, his fingers gently gripping your head, guiding your mouth up and down his cock, “that’s it — fuuuuck—” and he’s hissing when your fingers toy with his balls, as your tongue traces over his veins, forcing every muscle in his thighs from having you deep throat his cock then and there, “now can you—”
And you suck at his cock, lips wrapped around, as you stare up at him, eyes lidded with lust, thighs pressed together, as you slurped at his cock, your tongue flicking at his slit, “baby, you sure you’ve never done this before?” and his hips begin to stutter against you, making you gasp around his length, “so fucking perfect for me, baby — know what I like without even trying,”
And how is he this fucking close already? Is he the virgin or are you? His hips roll into your mouth shallowly, your fingers finding what couldn’t fit in your mouth and stroking it, all while his fingers grasp at the mussed sheets below him, “fuck, sweetheart, ‘m s’close,” and you’re only re-doubling your efforts, cheeks hollowing around him, “you don’t have to—“ but you suck at the tip, tongue laving at his length, and he’s spurting his load down your throat.
His head falls back, as his hips stutter into your mouth, fingers tugging at your hair, drawing a moan from your lips. And his half lidded eyes falling to your lips around his cock, his cum slipping down the corner of your mouth as you continue to swallow.
“Fuck, baby,” he’s panting, hissing at the sight of you as you pull your lips away from his length, strings of his cum and your spit connecting your mouth to his cock, “such a good fucking girl,” he says, nearly a growl, “my good fucking girl,”
You’re smiling up at him, watery eyes, as your tongue darts out to clean up his release from your mouth, making his breath catch, “You taste so good, Toru,” and god, you’re so cute — he wanted to spoil you, buy you the whole world and more, and he catches your thighs rubbing together — but first—
And he’s manhandling you, fingers sinking into your thighs and he’s flipping you onto your back, his chest still heaving, sweat glistening on his forehead, and a grin on his lips.
“My turn,” he murmurs, sliding his lips against yours, tongue tasting his release on your mouth, before kissing down your body, before he’s settling between your thighs.
—he was going to have his breakfast.
The semester wore on and Satoru became more and more busy with work. His messages became few and far between, and your time together dwindled to nothing. Although he still sent the stipend each month, you found your thoughts wandering to him far too often — daydreams between paragraphs of reading and review for an exam that you didn’t particularly care about.
This should be the dream right? Money for essentially no effort. You had long forsaken the days of ramen noodle dinners and scraping by on your loans — you should be happy. You could go where you wanted, do what you wanted — but why was the only place you wanted to be was with Satoru? You pulled out your phone, refreshing the notifications over and over as if it would change the outcome — but it didn’t — still no new messages from him.
Was he really busy with work? Anxiety begins to creep into your mind — or was he busy with someone else? Had he been hanging onto you on the back burner — waiting for someone better to come along? You open Satoru’s text chain — the last message sent was your own — and you chew on your bottom lip.
Were you about to break your own rule about double texting?
You type — Hey, just wanted to check on you. Been thinking about you a lot.
You delete it. Is this desperate? What if he thinks you’re desperate? You’re running your hand over your face, pressing your knuckles against your lips.
Fuck it. You type the same message and send it.
Oh, it’s worse. Texting and having to wait for a response is worse — and now you simultaneously want to constantly check your phone and also chuck it in a lake. You lay back on your bed, turning and burying your face in your pillow.
What the fuck were you doing?
Several hours pass, and you place your phone in the kitchen, as you sit in your room, trying to focus on studying for your exams, instead of thinking about whether Satoru texted you back or not. You finally allow yourself a break at dinner time, and wander out, spotting a few texts from Satoru. Your heart squeezes as you pick up your phone and check.
Hey baby, is that your way of saying you miss me?
Because I miss you too.
When’s your last exam?
You bite back a smile — it’s on this Friday — I’ll be done at 6:00 PM.
He types, and then stops, then types again, and then stops. Then he sends a simple “ok.”
And you don’t hear from him again, which only makes the rest of the week a delight to get through. You’re sure you scraped by on your exams — Friday didn’t come soon enough, but it had arrived. You stretch as you leave the exam hall — bundled up in your jacket, as you make your way back to your apartment. But only, you're not the only one outside the building.
Satoru stands, leaning against the side of the car, eyes on his phone as he stands in a long deep gray winter coat, a cream sweater underneath, looking utterly too perfect. He glances up, cerulean blue eyes finding yours, lips curling in a smile that you hoped was only reserved for you.
“Hey, sweetheart,” and you’re holding yourself back from running, quickly walking over, and he’s closing the gap as well, pulling you into his arms, his arms sliding over your jacket — “is this all you’re wearing? We need to buy you a warmer coat,”
“Satoru,” you’re shaking your head at his priorities, your fingers sliding over his front before sliding them under his jacket, “what are you doing here?”
“Well, my project finished up earlier today, so I spent the day preparing a little surprise,” he’s tilting your chin up, leaning down to brush his lips against your jaw, and you shiver — most assuredly not from the cold, “we’re going on a trip,”
“A trip?” you blink, utterly too distracted by his lips placing wet kisses up and down your jaw, nearing your lips, but always stopping short, “where—”
“A hot spring — I thought we could use some rest and relaxation,” his lips hover right over your own, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip, “and some privacy — I reserved us a private hot spring,” and his palms slide down to your hips and squeeze, “just you and me,”
“That sounds amazing — wonder what else you have planned,” your lips lean up and brush against his, making his curl into a smile, and your heart stirs — god, you didn’t care about the money, about the amenities, about the dates — he could have just taken you for a walk and you’d be happy by his side, “I missed you so much, Toru,”
And he’s kissing you again, his hand sliding back to hold the back of his neck, deepening the kiss before he pulls away. You’re panting as he does, lips kiss bitten red, “I did too, baby, it was so difficult being without you — kept thinking about seeing you. I had to hold myself back from seeing you the minute you texted,” he’s sighing, “but that’s why I thought this weekend would be perfect — spend it just with each other, no distractions,”
“Toru,” you murmur, “I need to tell you something,” you can’t hold back — you need to tell him, you need him to know, and his lips press into a pout, forehead wrinkled, “I think I have feelings for you — more than what our relationship should have,” your cheeks flush, eyes falling to the ground, and you watch your breath warm the cold air, “I don’t know if you feel the same or if we should stop, but I needed you to know because I—”
And his finger rests against your lips, eyes nearly shining in the moonlight, “You really mean that, sweetheart?” and you swallow the lump in your throat, before nodding. And he grins, before his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, wrapping you in his jacket as he presses himself against you, “I have feelings for you too — I have for a while,”
“You—do?” you manage between kisses and breathes, and you look up at him with wide eyes and parted lips — and you’re so impossibly cute — he has to hold himself back from taking you against his car then and there — “Satoru, please—”
“I do, I do, sweetheart, you said you’ve never done any of this before, well I’ve never done half of the things I’ve done with you,” he murmurs, a chuckle caught in his words, “do you think I’d plan a trip like this for just anyone? I’ve never even engaged in this sort of relationship before — until I saw you,”
You pause, mouth agape, “So you’ve never had a different—”
“You’re my one and only baby,” he teases, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, “and worth every cent, second, and effort I’ve used,” And you bite back a smile, eyes slightly glassy, “what?”
“I thought — I don’t know, when I hadn’t heard from you, I thought you had found someone else, that you were going to leave, and it just seems so silly now,” you shake your head, but he’s cupping your chin, meeting your gaze.
“It is silly, baby,” he’s pressing another kiss to your lips, “because I’d never leave you — and I’m not planning on it, are you?”
“No! No, of course not,” and he laughs at your eager reply, making your cheeks hot, as he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, “Toru—”
“At this rate, you’re gonna make me fall for you, princess,” and your fingers card through his hair, grinning as kisses your neck, and you make him look at you — pale skin flushed from the weather or your touch, it could be either.
“That’s the plan.”
“Was this part of your plan?” Satoru’s voice is caught, as looks at you — oh and he could look at you forever.
Your innocent lips painted pink, a perfect accent to the light cerulean lingerie that you had wrapped yourself in. The lace and see through panels left almost nothing to the imagination, but at the same time, hid just enough. You were a present ready to be unwrapped — and you wanted him to do the unwrapping.
“You tell me,” you chuckle, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers, letting your legs spread further apart, making him drop the bouquet he was holding, “nothing to say?”
It had been a few weeks since your trip away and you had been hinting at wanting to finally have your first time with Satoru. But each time, he always ended up fingering you or sucking you off — he was hesitant, he didn’t want you to regret your choice.
But how to explain that you could never regret him? Well, this was the only way to think of — a hammer instead of a gentle hand.
And his gaze grows lidded, mouth dry, as he steps forward, “sweetheart—“
“You kept saying you wanted our first time to be special, but you don’t get it—“ you reach out and tug him closer by his tie, “my first time will always be special if it’s you,” you kiss his jaw, smiling, and he’s wordless as he stares at you, hesitancy eating away at your confidence “but if you don’t want—“
And he’s got you pinned under him, knee pressed between your thighs, his fingers sliding up and down your exposed skin of your sides, his perfect lips curved in a smile, “I guess we’re really not understanding each other, baby,” his lips ghost over the nape of your neck, as he inhaled deeply, before pulling back, his thumb now dragging over your lips, “I want you — badly,” and his fingers tease the fabric of your lingerie, “you don’t know how many times I’ve come close to giving into you, to wanting to just fuck you like I’ve dreamed about, fantasized about — but, I guess I was waiting for a perfect moment that didn’t exist — since every moment with you is special, right?” He teased, making you flush.
“I want you too, Toru, so bad,” you rub yourself against his knee, “I can’t wait anymore, are you gonna fuck me or—“
His knee grinding against you cuts you off with a whine, “don’t tempt me so much, sweetheart, we gotta do this right,” his lips find yours again, all tongue and teeth, as he swallows your noises and more with pleasure, his knee rubbing against you in earnest, “gotta prep you right,” he murmurs reverently.
His lips trail from your lips to press wet kisses to your jaw, and his fingers part your thigh further — and you let him with ease. And his lips tease the edge of your lingerie, “it’d be a shame to take this off, so maybe I’ll just take you in it,” his mouth closes over your clothed nipple, teasing it through the fabric, making you gasp, “but then again, I wouldn’t be able to see your body without any obstructions. Decisions, decisions,”
And he’s snapping the shoulder strap against your skin, as he pulls his knee away, the dark damp patch on the fabric, “Plesse, Toru, I need more—“ and his lips curl, as his fingers tease your clothed cunt, two fingers dragging right down the slit. The wet fabric barely doing anything to stop the press of his pads against your sensitive folds.
“So wet for me already, sweetheart? I’m flattered,” he grins, leaning down to inhale, before a soft moan leaves his lips, “your scent is as good as you taste,” making you keen against him at his words — you could never grow used to the sight of him between your thighs, his blue irises fixed on your cunt.
“Just for you, Toru,” and he bites back a groan, his gaze half lidded with lust, “only for you,”
He can’t wait anymore.
He kisses up your body, teasing your bellybutton with his tongue, dragging his mouth up your abdomen until he reaches your lips. And he kisses you again, lips burning against yours, stealing any coherent thought with only a brush of his lips or a stolen touch of your thighs. But now his lips reach the waistband of your lacy panties, giving another broad lick, tasting you through the soaked material, before he’s sliding two fingers inside the elastic tugging it down your legs.
“As much I love your lingerie — it needs to go,” and he’s sniffing the fabric with a small moan, before pocketing it with a wide grin, “for now,”
“Toru, those were expensive—“
“I know, my money paid for them,” he winks, making you shiver with a graze of his teeth against your inner thigh, “I’ll buy you as many as you like, as long I’m the only one taking them off,” his warm breath makes your cunt twitch as his fingers part your pussy, stretching out your walls — so fucking tight, “s’pretty, all for me,” his thumb brushing against your clit, making you whine, “so needy, pretty girl — you need my cock that bad?” He’s thumbing your chin, making you meet his gaze and his cock throbs — you were already so fucked out — chest nearly heaving, your breasts nearly escaping their cups; your lips parted with pants and soft moans; and your eyes fixed on him, lidded and needy — it was enough for him to cum there and then.
Was he the virgin or were you?
“I’ll give you my cock, baby,” his tongue finally licks up your cunt, savoring the taste of you on his tongue — sweetest thing he’d ever had — “but I’m going to have your cunt first,”
You’re a mess — moaning and twitching as your fingers grasp at his snowy locks, white strands between your fingers bury him deeper in your aching warmth, thighs nearly suffocating him — and he wouldn’t want to die any other way, honestly. Fuck, how is he so good at this? Two seconds, and you’re ready to squirt all over his face — the way his tongue drags against your insides and flicks against your clit, before sliding back into your sweet cunt, making your walls twitch around him.
And he can’t help but grind against his sheets and mattress, surely leaving a stain on his pants — but fuck, he couldn’t help it. All he couldn’t help it — all he wanted to was sink into you, bury himself deep inside, until he made you cum over and over — but he wanted this to be good for you.
It’s when his lips close around your clit and suck as your fingers sink into you once again and fuck you open when it’s all over for you. You’re moaning unabashedly now, your back arching and your legs trembling as you cum hard, his name on your lips in an almost scream, as he only eats you out through your orgasm, tongue lapping every drop of your release, as you come down from your high. Intense pleasure ebbs away to slight twitches and heavy pants, as you look down at him with fucked out eyes, his face absolutely covered in your glossy release, as his pink tongue darts out to collect the rest, back of his hand taking care of the rest, your cunt convulsing at the sight of him.
“Know it was good, but didn’t realize it was that good,” and he’s leaning up, sliding off the bed to strip off his jacket before undo the buttons of his shirt’s cuffs, fingers deftly undoing his button-up now, “so perfect for me,” and he’s pulling his phone from his pocket, as he leans down to part your thighs for him, his gaze dark with lust as he snaps a few pictures of your leaking cunt, “such a pretty princess cunt,” and you hear the clink of his belt as he undoes it, your gaze lifting as your eyes raked over his defined abs and muscles, following all the way down to his v-line and below…
Fuck.
You knew he was big — hell you could barely fit him in your mouth, but how the fuck was he going to fit inside you? And your nerves come back full force, but mixed with an excitement — an excitement and a relief that your first time — your first time would be with someone you loved, would be with someone that the word ‘love’ failed to encompass your feelings for.
Even when he was a teasing ass.
“Like what you see, baby?” he’s grinning, as he drags his engorged tip against your fluttering walls, smearing his pre-cum against yours, groaning as he watches it mix, “fuck, been dreaming about this for so long,” as he leans over you to press a kiss to your sweet lips, the lust mixing with love — an entire ocean of love that threatens to drown you if you look for too long, “are you sure?” the words are said with such concern, such care, such gentleness that it almost makes you want to cry — but you don’t know why.
“I am, always, when it’s you,” and your fingers find his cheek, as you lean up to kiss him, his lips curved in a smile reserved for you.
“Don’t go getting all soft on me now, sweetheart,” and you laugh.
“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you, old man—” and you gasp as he presses the tip against your entrance, waiting for your go-head to push in — but that doesn't mean he couldn’t make you eat your words.
“What was that, baby?” it’s his turn to laugh and yours to pout, before you’re pulling him close again.
“Satoru, please—” and your gazes meet again, and there’s no need for any more discussion. He moves slow, lining himself up, making sure he is lubricated enough to slip into you.
“If I’m hurting you—-”
“I’ll scream,” you tease, and he snorts.
“I’d like to see you screaming for a different reason, but that works too,” and he’s leaning down to capture your lips once more, as he sinks into you slowly. Your lips part in a gasp, your expression twisting with the discomfort you felt, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t tolerate, and his eyes meet yours, as you give a nod, and inch by inch, he fits himself in you — until he finally bottoms out.
You both groan, his fingers running through your hair, “So fucking perfect f’me, sweetheart,” and he’s not moving, letting you get used to him filling you up, “I know, it’s so much, isn’t it, baby? But you’re doing so well,” and his lips met yours again, as the slight discomfort ebbs away, all you feel is want, want as his tip finds your cervix, want as you feel your walls meld to his shape, and want when you hear the low groan stuck in his throat, “good girl, my best girl,”
And you can’t help the desperate whine that parts your throat, “Please, move,” you nod, and that’s all he needs for him to pull back and thrust back in, pulling gasps and moans from your pretty lips.
“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, as he falls into a rhythm, “fuck, your cunt is practically sucking me back in — getting the feeling you don’t want me to stop, sweetheart,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your neck, in contrast to the dirty squelch of your cunt and the slapping of your hips with his as he fucked you.
It felt so good.
Your fingers find purchase on his neck, fingers dragging through his white locks and undercut, drawing him impossibly closer, as his lips close over one of your nipples, licking and sucking as he thrusted into you. And he’s guiding your legs around his waist, and your legs pull him ever closer — ever deeper — as he groans against you. He presses sloppy wet kisses along your collarbone, his groan vibrating against your skin.
“Look at that, pretty girl, taking me so well,” he’s grunting, as he looks at where you two meet, watching himself sink into you over and over, “g’nna make you only want this cock — no one else’s — all mine,” and you’re so close — your head buried in the nape of his neck, and he could hear every pant, moan, gasp right as it left your mouth, “such pretty noises — never made these noises for anyone else, have you, baby? Just f’me,”
And you nod, eyes fluttering shut, “Close, s’close,” pleasure building, like a coil ready to snap, you can’t find the words — “I’m—“
“Cum on my cock, Princess,” his fingers press down against your clit, rubbing and that’s it, “let me make you feel good,”
Your walls clamp down hard his dick twitching in your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips, as he fucked you through your orgasm, and his hips stutter against you, low moans leaving his lips.
It felt so right. Pleasure washing over you as your toes curled, your eyes nearly rolling back, as you came. And he can’t stand it much longer —
“Where—“ he groans, your slick cunt too much for him, your cum drenching him, “I’m close—“
“Inside, please, I—“ and he gives a shaky chuckle.
“So greedy, baby — want my cum too?” He kisses you, long and soft as he moaned your name far too loud, his warm, thick load spilling inside you, as he fucked it inside, “look at that, filled you up so good,” as he finally stills inside of you, as he eases out, groaning as he watches your mixed release slip from inside you and trickle down his balls, “s’good, so perfect for me,”
He grabs a towel to clean you up, gently cleaning your thighs, murmuring sweet nothings. Before he leans down to press a kiss to your reddened lips.
“Are you okay?” He runs his fingers through your hair, and you nod, as you cup his cheek.
“I’m perfect,” you sigh, as he curls up beside you, burying his face in the nape of your neck, “and you?”
“What’s more than ‘perfect?’” And you snort, before he’s leaning over you, “what?”
“You’re such a dork,”
“But I’m your dork, your very rich dork, who loves to spoil you,” and you laugh, pulling him close.
“Just mine,” and he’s kissing you again.
“Just yours.”
And you find yourself at that same bar you did many moons ago.
You nurse a soda, instead of a drink, because you didn’t care for the taste of alcohol. Habits die hard with the company you kept. You felt the gaze of several people on you, but none of them approached — and you didn’t mind one bit.
“Mind if I sit here?” And you smile, stirring your soda with its straw, not bothering to look up at the sound of this very familiar voice. The same voice that had woken you up with several kisses to your neck this morning.
“Not at all,” you reply, as you slide over his fruity drink — some concoction that is utterly too sweet — “you’re late,”
Satoru sighs, swirling his drink in its glass. “Well, the business partners were particularly chatty. I think they knew we had dinner plans,” Satoru sips at his drink, pouting, as you comfort him with a chaste kiss to his cheek, “how’d the job interview go?”
“I think they might give me the offer,” you smile, but you shrug, leaning against the surprisingly not sticky bar counter, “I’m not too worried either way,”
“I told you don’t have to work—“
“And I told you I want at least to work part-time to contribute something,” you remind him, as you lean close, fingers lacing with his with a squeeze, “don’t worry we will spend a lot of time together,” and he’s still pouting.
“That’s not enough,”
“Plenty?” And he relents, murmuring something about “that’s better,”, “where are we going for dinner anyway?” You raise an eyebrow, “such secrecy tonight,”
“I have to keep you on your toes, sweetheart, can’t have you losing interest,” he smiles, as his fingers reach into his pocket, and you roll your eyes, unimpressed.
“Never,” you roll your eyes, as he leans over and presses a kiss to his neck, and he’s finding your lips, fingers brushing your cheek, panting as he parts, “I know you’re trying to avoid the question.”
And he only offers a grin, before he’s holding a ring before you, “take a guess,”
You stare at it, blinking, your fingers covering your mouth, “Satoru—“
“I told you a long time ago here that I wanted to be the one to take care of you — and now I’m asking to take care of you forever,” and you can’t help but grin, “I’m sure we can reach another agreement — as long as you let me call you my wife,”
And you’re already pulling him into your arms, lips sliding against his, as he melts into the kiss, “is that a yes?”
You laugh, offering your hand, “put the ring on me,” and he does, sliding it onto your finger, smiling.
“You won’t regret it,” and you kiss him again, pressing your forehead to his.
“I know,” because saying yes to marrying Satoru Gojo was surely the smartest idea you’ve ever had.
✴︎ a/n: s/o to @laneysmusings for being the best beta reader, and i was truly possessed with the idea of having gojo take care of me and hearing mei mei say that he's "so rich" and he's like " well, she ain't lying." I also didn't listen to agora hills while writing this fic, but i used all the edits of gojo to that song as insp for the title and header lol.
✴︎ taglist: @deegausserr, @satoryaa, @orianakira, @tinnkerbell, @laylasbunbunny, @aztecmoonwarrior, @empresslazingway, @chosoilysm, @idktbhloley, @lorain07, @dreampiies, @nestafarren, @daydreamermarimo, @hydraafk, @theonetheycallbatman, @soccasium, @clearlandchild, @indigoghnights, @cha-raena, @strawberiicreme, @thegreatandpowerfulloreothecat, @jgh15hog, @onlyangeltae, @satocidal, @mrsmoriarty-holmes, @arrloww, @kyyyynziee
#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo imagine#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#satoru gojo fanfiction#jjk fluff#jjk x resder#jjk x you
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Tattoo Tease ⭐️🎀


IT’S HEREEEEEEE
Hugh Jackman x It girl reader
Synopsis: You’re Hollywood’s It Girl who’s known and loved for not caring about what the media has to say. When you and Hugh Jackman do an interview segment together, a mix up ends in you getting a temporary tramp stamp… of his name. He can barely control himself around you as it is but seeing his name just above your ass? Let the countdown begin.
Warnings: age gap, p in v, multiple positions, Hugh being a whore and lowkey a perv lol, flirting, just pure FILTH, nicknames like “baby, kid, kiddo, honey, sugar etc
I cannot WAIT to drop this HELPPPPP. Lmk if yall wanna be tagged!
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman smut#logan howlett#logan howlet smut#logan howlet x reader#Hugh Jackman x reader#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#old man logan#x men#wolverine x reader#wolverine#wolverine smut#logan wolverine#logan x reader#Hugh Jackman x black fem reader
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Is it bad that I wanna have the yandere men’s babies? 🫣 Cowboys, Sugar Daddy, etc. I’m curious though how some of them would react if reader was enthused to settle down with them and start a family? 🥰
Please don’t stop the breeding/pregnancy kinks
Hi! that's a good question anon and I'll answer it right now.
Yandere reactions to a reader willing and happy to be with them and have their babies.
Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★
Masterlist
Yandere Farmer link
This grumpy man doesn't jump for joy or anything, in his mind he doesn't understand why he would be elated by the simple fact that you know your place and where you belong? You belong beneath him receiving his fat cock in your greedy pussy. End of story.
He already thinks he's old (maybe just a little...) and that he's running out of time to have a family and you accepting your place without making a fuss takes a huge weight off his shoulders, he takes you to live with him that very day and oh... you'll realize that this man has the stamina of a bull and the same softness.
As soon as you arrive he already has you bent over the kitchen table with your cheek pressed against the oak wood while his fat cock abuses your pussy, his fat balls slapping your plush ass with a dirty sound while a large hand holds you tightly by the back of the neck squeezing the little hairs deliciously.
From that day on you will have your poor pussy sore and overstimulated because he will fuck you all the time and at all hours.
He fucks you in the morning when the rooster wakes up and doesn't even crow yet but he's already buried deep in your pussy, he fucks you in the barn on a pile of hay when you go to feed the horses, he fucks you in the afternoon when he takes a break after hours in the field under the sun, he fucks you in the shower when you go to bathe to clean off the dirt from a productive day of work and he fucks you when you go to sleep with his calloused hand squeezing your throat, your eyes are rolled back as he fills your fertile pussy with his thick cum for the eleventh time that day.
That repeats itself every day so it's no surprise when just a month later you find out you're pregnant, did that soften it? No really I keep fucking you mercilessly and squeezing your throat until you see stars but you notice him rubbing your flat belly from time to time.
"The children in my family are big— when the baby grows up you may feel a little uncomfortable at first but don't worry, you will feel better during the seventh or eighth pregnancy."
Yandere Cowboy link
Well, reader actually does like yandere Cowboy (since she doesn't know what a bad person he really is) so from the start she wants to be with him and does what he asks her, she stopped taking birth control when he asked her to, she let him fuck her where he wanted and kept her legs up with a pillow underneath for half an hour so his semen wouldn't leak out because he asked her to.
Besides the fact that he knows how to take advantage of her, she's too young and naive and believes that besides her father he's the only one who loves and values her, so it's normal for her to let him sneak into her room (secretly from her father obviously) to fuck like rabbits, he squeezes her in a tight mating hold that barely lets her breathe keeping her legs pressed down almost touching her ears.
He pumps his fat cock into her pussy frantically as she lets out low mewls, he uses a calloused finger to rub circles on her tiny clit that tightens around his member from the overwhelming pleasure she feels and he lets out a guttural growl as he watches her delicious tits bouncing right in front of his face, with one final thrust he cums deep inside her womb flooding it with his swimmers.
"That was so good baby doll, ugh— ha! I bet after this I'll get you pregnant with twins, and if that's not the case we'll try again and again until it works."
Yandere Dilf link
I'd be over the moon, really. He already believes you're his wife, he's believed it since he first saw you holding his son (very delirious) and for you to accept that fact so happily and willingly to be his, to have his babies, would only increase his already enormous delusions.
You won't be going to college anymore, of course not. You'll stay home to take care of his son and prepare everything for when he comes back from work, as a reward he'll make love to you every night without exception, he'll fuck you fervently with one of his hands covering your mouth, muffling your high-pitched moans while his cock drills your swollen pussy mercilessly.
He'll kiss your tits and neck before licking the salt off your skin as he tells you how much he wants to fill you with his babies, that you'll be the prettiest mother ever, all fat and round with one baby in your belly while you hold the other on your hip, he keeps repeating those things over and over again until he finally reaches the limit by cumming deep inside your swollen pussy just like it should be.
"Darling— let's do it again, what if once isn't enough...? Come on spread your legs."
Yandere Sugar Daddy link
Honestly this man is arrogant as fuck when he sees how happy and willing you are to be his and have his brats, he'll end up gloating while pinching your cheek telling you how proud he is that you came to your senses and are his good little girl.
Obviously he'll take you to live with him in his mansion a big one so his future children can have fun running around all over the place, you'll drop out of your law career after all now you have him and his kids soon so why study? He'll fuck you anywhere, he'll fuck you on his private jet forcing you to ride him while the embarrassed stewardesses serve champagne without making eye contact, he'll fuck you on all fours in front of the fireplace filling you with his cum over and over again scolding you playfully when his cum comes out of your pussy staining his 50 thousand dollar carpet he sticks two fingers in your pussy plugging you.
He doesn’t stop fucking you when he finds out you’re pregnant, he doesn’t stop fucking you when you’re 7 months along and your stomach is all big and swollen, he lays you down on the bed making you ride him you bounce up and down as best you can while his hands rub your ass before moving up to your belly heavy with his child, his child, just the thought of him doing this to you turns him on so much, he ends up cumming inside you every time, without fail.
“Fuck— I wish I could put another one of my babies inside you right now, see you even more swollen with my children. Shit— move again.”
#yandere#yandere male#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#dark fic#dark!fic#reader insert#female reader#tw dubcon#tw noncon#tw breeding kink#tw pregnancy#reaction#male yandere#soft yandere#cw: yandere#tw yandere#tw: yandere#yandere smut#dark smut#yandere farmer#farmer smut#yandere dilf#yandere sugar daddy#smutty smut smut#yandere cowboy#cowboy smut#Resquest ♥︎
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nobody ships clint/peter and it depresses me
#kimi is typing#comics clint/peter. i wanna make that clear.#there's like one fic with them and they're a side pairing#and i'm like no pls i want them to be huge disasters together#i need a fic where peter accidentally becomes clint's horrible sugar baby#who is mean to him and judges his life choices#but still fixes his electronics for him and hangs out despite the horrors#clintpeter#spideyhawk
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ʚ BUBBLE, POP, ELECTRIC ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ sum. it’s your birthday and your sugar daddy takes you on a spree to the mall. perhaps buying a new set of panties with his initials engraved on it to tease him wasn’t the brightest idea. get in loser, you’re going shopping.
wc. 5.5k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, semi-public risky themes, dry humping, implied multiple rounds, lots of praise, squırting, fıngering, dumbification, ōral (f! receiving), dirty talk, brēeding, petnames.
➤ sd!gojo masterlist
“a- anything?”
“anything, darlin,” satoru hums with a teasing smile, burying both hands into his pockets. your face lit up as he happily slides his black card into your palm. it had a glinting shine to it, your eyes gape at the sixteen digit code plastered on the front with his full name in bold, ‘satoru gojo.’ the both of you stood near the center of a busy, packed mall. it was an ordinary hot friday, and since it was also your birthday, he decided why not let you pick your special gift. the older man leans down, planting a kiss against your forehead. “go crazy, yeah? ‘s your day, gorgeous. the pricier, the better. buy something that’ll be easy ‘ta tear off. oh, i mean uh— buy something pretty, heh.”
you felt a wave of heat burn over you. you could never, never get enough his praises. satoru’s eyes remain on you as you clutch on one of the many purses he bought you. “toru, you don’t have to.”
“shh, you’re my baby,” he reassures you, pulling you close. you lean into his embrace, feeling the palm of his hand caress circles against your back. he feels the thin straps of your top glue against your skin. his cologne, it was forevermore intoxicating. in a husky low tone, satoru whispers. “i wanna spoil you extra hard today,” and you gasp, feeling him nuzzle into your neck. “what do ya say, sweets? i heard victoria’s secret has a few new deals goin’ on right now, heh.”
you spent the next good hour shopping, going to any store that just so happened to pique your fancy. you told gojo that you’d save victoria’s secret for last, and he nodded.
of course, he tagged along with you. like the gentleman he was, he carried your weighty bags for you like they were nothing.
“gonna run me for my money, huh sweets?” he snickers, an arm slinging around your shoulder as you stood beside him on the escalator. as it slowly took you both upstairs—you let off a tiny exhale. you were preparing to go toward the second floor of the mall.
with a coy smile, you brush a thumb against the edges of your skirt. “o- oh, sorry ‘toru,” and you knew he was teasing, he’d buy you the world if he could. he was stood so close next to you that you could almost always get a good whiff of his loud scent. “didn’t mean to get so much stuff.”
“sweetheart, i’m joking you know that,” he hums, stepping back to let you get off the moving escalator first. it was so packed, dozens of people walking around each part of the centre. it was full of chatter and laughter. a whirring breeze sets against your skin as he steps beside you, leaning down to plant a kiss near your forehead. “tired out yet? or do ya have more pretty stuff ‘ta buy?”
speaking of pretty, satoru gojo was the prettiest.
he stood out in the mall—he was an elite businessman but people were smart enough to not disturb him while he’s spending time with you.
so classy, he was always wearing the finest richest suits, preferably black or white ones. long, stretched out slacks to show off his legs and his hair. gojo’s hair was always neatly done, as he aged he usually settled with a parted style, a visible undercut to run his fingers through to pass time.
thin white bangs would run down his eyes a few times—occluding his vision. gojo would often find himself digging his hands into his pockets as he happily watches you drain his wallet.
“we can go get some lingerie now,” you murmur out, hearing some random pop song blare through the mall’s speakers.
“we? aw, am i gettin’ dolled up too?”
he peers at you as your expression twists to abashed embarrassment. gojo chuckles, a soft thumb brushing against your cheek lovingly. “you’re so cute, i’m teasing. let’s go then, lead the way princess.”
you ended up getting at least three new sets, including the brand new panties gojo’s been rambling to you about nonstop.
he told you how he’s recently got a partnership with the store.
a million dollar partnership at that — his new ‘satoru gojo’ limited edition panties were finally launched, and at first the idea of his name on underwear made him grouse. thanks to gojo’s hefty contribution to the company, they’ve gained a lot of new customers over the past summer. but, the moment you pick them out with a cute curious smile, he only cared about how you’d like them. so far, he’s heard from the reviews of buyers that it was quite soft, cottony and synthetic.
waterproof also, and gojo being gojo brought that specific fact up to you about a dozen times.
“can i open my eyes now, darlin'?” a low, husky yet playful voice calls out. gojo sat manspread in the dressing room, awaiting for you to show the final results of the product. “mhh, ‘s kinda dangerous to jus’ let my imagination roam, you know.”
“hold on, satoru.” you roll your eyes, slipping on the panties. they were really pretty, they fit perfectly and had tiny blue bows on the side.
you spun around near the nearby mirror, taking in your figure. it had a thong yet bikini type shape to them. stretchy and all, not to mention it was very comfortable—not too tight whatsoever. right on the back, you spot the infamous letters that were sewn in bedazzled rhinestones, front ‘n center.
‘ satoru gojo, ’
you felt a brew of heat tickle its way down your thighs before you strut toward the white haired man. even sitting down, he’s so attractive. long legs stretch themselves out as he’s laid back against the concrete wall. he’s surrounded by colorful bent hangers, the dressing room was spacey enough. as he sat on the bench, he taps his foot. “baby, i can feel you lookin’ at me. are ya done?”
“yeah,” you utter, slowly removing his hands away from his eyes. “you can look now.”
it takes him a moment to register the sight — you stand still, feeling his cerulean blue eyes awe at your beauty.
oh, your curves, his blown irises linger everywhere so intently that it makes you feel small in the best way. your heart’s thumps accelerate as he’s got a growing smug smile curling against his pink lips.
“oh my,” he purrs out, a hand cupping under his chin. his expensive g-shock shimmers against the luminescent ceiling light as also he gently pulls his bottom lip down. his stare makes you nervous and you don’t even know why. “spin around for me.”
you do, twirling your body slowly and his eyes get a front view of your ass. you still wore your blouse, feeling his gaze burn into your rear.
“goddamn,” and you let off a soft breath, feeling his hands gingerly creep up against your thighs. “you look gorgeous in anything,” he whispers, inching his lips toward your backside. gojo then drags his twitching, crooked lips toward the left cheek of your ass. it smooches against the lace fabric, a thumb stroking the letters of his own name. “i’ll buy this entire brand just to see you walk around ‘n these for me, sweetheart.”
“satoru don’t do that,” you protest, gasping once he parts your legs open a bit. with you, his touch was always gentle. he couldn’t ever keep his hands off of you though. his strokes continue to roam, and that’s when he playfully bites your ass cheek. “h- hey!”
“sorry, baby,” he chuckles, giving it a soft teasing smack. gojo hears you whine out in need before he turns you back around. “mhh, don’t give me that pout. come give ‘toru some sugar instead.”
your heart always flutters whenever he says that, those sweet words never fail to strike right into your heart. churning the pit insides of your stomach that’s already packed with butterflies swarming everywhere.
as you slowly make your way toward him, tantalizingly, he cocks his head to the right.
“don’t be shy, i won’t bite today,” he flashes you a soft toothy grin, patting his lap for you to take your favorite seat. wasting no time, you sit on his lap, your bare skin brushing up against his loose fitted slacks. “good girl,” and his hands meet your waist. zeroing his eyes down your sweet physique, he strokes your bottom lip. “closer.”
the moment you finally close the distance, your lips press against his. a cheeky smile curls against his mouth — a groan shortly following out of his throat, betraying his playful demeanor. you moan, finding it impossible to not move a bit against him. as you gradually grind against his lap, delving your tongue between his, he lets off a sharp breath. “mhm,” pretty snowy lashes of his shut tight, fluttering as he’s poking a single thumb against your hip. gojo tastes sweet, sweeter than he’s ever been. peppermint lives on his tongue, running against your tastebuds and with utmost grace, you relish in it. the flavor, its additive and his touch wasn’t helping. a raspy groan slithers into your mouth once your grinding speeds up, the bottom part of your panties grazes against his secret growing boner and he huffs.
“f- fuck, baby,” he snarls, breaking away from the kiss to look down. there, he spots it. he was indeed hard, he’s been hard this entire time you’ve been splurging hefty amounts on his black card. the moment you gave him a little show of the sediment panties, that was the final straw. “you’re such a tease, y’know,” and you gasp once he slides a lengthy finger toward the cottony fabric. “ooh, is someone already a mess? lemme see ya.”
and as you’re just barely hovering over his lap, legs sprawled apart for him, he swipes the fat print of his thumb inside. “s- satoruuu.” you hiss out, the last syllable of his name elongated and cutely dramatic. a bit loud, you had to remind yourself the two of you were in a store. indeed, you were soaked already. part of you thinks it was because of his showering praises.
every time he calls you a ‘good girl’ or his ‘pretty girl’ you felt the stickiness between your thighs dampen. it was just embarrassing.
“can’t believe you’ve been hidin’ this mess this entire time,” the white haired man almost pouts, a tone of playfulness humming underneath his tone. two of his fingers poke their way between the middle part of your panties, prodding against your soppy pussy. “oh, look at that. so fuckin’ nasty,” and cunning blue eyes flicker straight at you, making you gulp in ignominy. “sweetheart, you do know i gotta pay for this. did ya forget?”
“o- oh.” and reality hits you again. he was right, you were soaking panties that weren’t even bought yet.
you could feel yourself dripping, a little damp spot forming its way against the woolen linen.
“yeah, oh,” he mocks your cute surprised word, easing a single thumb past your slit. it’s swollen, he feels the eager twitch of it and your legs rock back in lewd rapture. “awh, how cute. you want my thumb, princess?”
“y- yes,” you whine, tossing your arms over his broad shoulders. the man eyes you with a haughty expression, continuing to flick the edge of his thumb in and out of your puffed clit. the panties were still on and you clenched your jaw before letting off a needy sigh. “take them off, ‘toru. please.”
he gives you a long stare before humming. “nah,” and a pout twines against your glossed lips. with his right hand, it grips your ass, his thumb resuming to fondle your skin before it tenderly starts to go in. “silly girl. panties are for wearing,” he teases, and your lips part themselves open once he successfully eases his way inside. you’re already so sloppy, spiraling all underneath his fingers. a white brow of gojo’s crimps into an intrigued furrow before he buries his nose into your neck. “ah, ah. don’t hold back those moans, let me hear that pretty voice.”
“but- we’re in public.”
“i won’t be crazy this time, i promise sweets, heh.”
total lie,
he says he won’t be crazy yet here you were bent over, face shoved into the wall, legs all parted. you moan, feeling his tongue dip straight into your cunt, slurping a loooong suck of your honeyed sweet. your thighs weakly tremble a bit at the teasing sensation of his stubble gracefully bristling against your skin. your cheek presses up on the glass of the other mirror that sits up against the wall. “f- fuuuuck.” you whimper out, toes curling up in utter ecstasy. his tongue, it was always so messy. messy and long, you whimper out once he dives straight in.
dipping in and out, no manners whatsoever. he’s nose deep, lolling it out all the way until he’s shamelessly drooling down your drizzling folds.
even still,
your panties were still on the entire time — they were lazily pulled to the side. with his eyes closed, he’s letting his tongue wander everywhere. you whine, digging the edges of your teeth into your bawled up fist. “arch more baby,” he whispers, hot breath ghosting right against your cunt. the store was blasting obnoxiously loud music, you hoped no one would walk in, hoped no one would see. the door was closed but still. once he watches your back obediently raise up at his command, he hums, nibbling right against your cunt. “atta girl, gimme that arch, uh huh.”
gojo groans, eating you out from behind, using a single hand to make your legs spread just a bit further. the continuous squeaks that pours out your lips makes him ten times harder than he already was. “ngh, t- toru,” you start to huff, feeling a crushing pull yank its way at your lungs. your breathing only started to get more crazed. as he’s spelling out the ten different letters of his name. you whine out a sobbing mewl, feeling the way his tongue curls once he flicks a sweet ‘s’ in your pussy. the swirl — your back only arches more, the skin of your cheek practically glued against the mirror. “ohmygodd.”
“y’r so fuckin’ hot,” he purrs out, and you’re so busy focused on his tongue that you didn’t even realize he had two fingers shoved inside you already. they’re so long, they reach into the very caves of your walls, specific spots that you didn’t even know could be located. with a swift motion, his fingertips curl around your cunt, feeling the gripping squeeze. “mhm, that’s it. bare around ‘em just like that,” and he’s making out with your cunt, giving it multiple french kisses. your legs were so close to giving up, you could feel that same annoying smile rub against your pussy. as your lip shivers, you start to breath heavier.
puffing and huffing . . heaving as you let off the same pathetic whimpers for more, more of his sloppy tongue.
he slurps everywhere, making sure to not miss a single spot. gojo sucks against your clitoral hood, knowing just how sensitive that spot made you. as you’re coating not only his fingers but his chin at the same time with your sheeny juices, you couldn’t help but swallow your pity. “i- i’m gonna cum,” you moan, a hand of yours reaching behind to grab onto his head. it lands near the top, gripping onto his strands and shoving him further into your pussy. “satoru, agh,” and you had to cup a hand over your mouth, growing paranoid once your heard a few people right outside your stall.
shit, shit, shit,
all you heard from gojo was that same raspy chuckle as he pumps in his two fingers inside your pussy with the most presumptuous grin on his face. as he’s bent on his knees, his chin was soaked with your slick.
every few seconds, he pries himself off to breathe and clean the lower part of his chiseled face with his tongue. “c’mon, baby. wait a little f’r me,” and his tepid breath repeatedly fans against your fevered skin. the pleasure — the pulsation, you were found with your legs spread and jaw dropped. so close, you could merely taste a salty tang that’s forming on your sugared tastebuds.
satoru gojo was a eater, and he could eat you all day if he really really wanted. your pout from his words makes him laugh. he spots your dumb expressions through the mirror propped up directly in front of you before he starts to spit on your cunt. “ugh, look at her. always so shiny ‘n slick,” and with bright eyes, he stares at the way his saliva trickles down your puckering hole. “ooh,” gojo breaks his mouth away again, lustrous cobwebs of spit dripping down his lips. frantically, you were shaking once he suddenly stopped. as his two fingers still plugged inside of your pussy, he gives the outer part of your entrance teasing pecks. “such a wet girl. listen to her with me, sweetheart.”
“s— fuckk, ‘toru,” you babble out, a sharp swat of his free palm hitting against your ass. suddenly, the cramped up dressing room felt hot. blazing, and yet, your thighs were even hotter. with your lips betraying themselves, curling into a circular shape in pleasure, you barely could make yourself stand still. “pleaseplease.”
“no, baby,” he gifts your cunt it’s final kiss, one of his hands running down your thighs. you had glossy slick racing down and he takes the opportunity to lap it right up with his tongue. “only sound i wanna hear is this pretty pussy talkin’ back to me. let’s hear what she’s got ‘ta say.”
the sounds of your own cunt was so lewd. it’s crying squelching rings and reverberates off the walls.
abruptly, you grow quiet and he hums, slowly dragging out his two long fingers before you gush out straight away.
your eyes were as wide as saucers, electric shocking currents travel through every part of your body as you come undone on his tongue. as you whine into your palm, your eyebrows come together into a furrow.
“mph,” you whimper, feeling your thighs shake. it’s so much that within seconds, you feel yourself spraying against his tongue until you couldn’t anymore. it felt like your life flashed before your eyes. the tenderness of it all was almost too much to bare. as you’re still violently shaking on his pink twitching muscle, gojo spreads your ass apart, growing drunk at your taste before he chuckles against your clit - teeth nibbling against your sensitive, puffed folds.
“my baby’s velocity just gets better ‘n better,” he snickers, giving your right ass cheek a frisky kiss.
as he stands up again, he faces you — watching as your eyes were all droopy ‘n hooded.
“c’mere,” and you felt your cunt throb as you fall into his touch, pressing your lips right back against him. right away, your tongue gets met with the taste of yourself on him. you tasted sweet, he’s always described you as sweet anyway. gojo groans, lifting up your thigh before making you lie back. “good girl. ‘s just you ‘n me. let me spoil you today, princess.”
glancing down, you spot his slacks that were just barely hanging on. they were half on, dark blue boxers clinging onto his perfectly sculptured waistline. you spot a bit of a peeking white happy trail that’s curly — sticking against his skin.
“s- satoru,” you pant, pawing your hands at his already open fly. he ogles at you, popping the two wet fingers that were stuffed into your cunt literally just a few seconds ago right into his mouth. you watch, growing more aroused as he sucks on his digits right in front of you.
“satoru what, baby?” he leans down, springing out his cock. it was quick, he fishes through his boxers before whipping it out, wrapping a single bare hand around his fat length. giving it a few pumps, a thumb of his swipes against his pulsing vein and he groans. with a snarl, he bites into your neck. “you don’t wanna wait ‘till we get home, huh?”
“no,” you whimper, and he lets you take control a bit.
with shaky hands, you make him sit flat against his back, a cute shove goes against his chest and he huffs. “want you, ‘toru,” and he smiles at how out of breath you were, still trying to overcome your more recent, nirvana filled high. as you get on his lap, straddling him, you lean right up to the older man’s face. “please.”
he returns your lust-filled gaze, a hand of his creeping toward the curvature of your ass. “such a sweet girl. with manners like that, i could never say no,” he coos to you, helping you align your entrance against his reddened tip. with your panties still on, string passively pulled toward the crevices of your thighs, you whine. “there’s that sweet ‘lil moan,” he brings you closer toward his neck. the veins that ran down his cock pulse even quicker. “mhm, c’mon sweets,” he playfully pulls your hands away from your face. “i wanna see those eyes roll back. don’t be shy, ride me girl.”
and as he’s careful to sink you down on his cock, your legs wrap around his slim waist like a vice.
a hand of yours tugs onto his tie, giving it a little forceful pull. gojo’s hair was all ruffled — white strands everywhere, you had him a mess and right where you wanted.
whenever you straddled him like this, you always took his breath away and that hungry gaze you always give him, fuck you were dangerous.
intaking a sharp, deep breath, he’s halfway in now. gojo’s so thick and bulky that it feels like he’s fully in.
balls fucking deep,
a whimper pulls out of your vocal cords as his tip kisses your sweet swollen insides. his own eyelashes were half-lidded and he’s panting right with you, frigid cold band of his watch rubbing off against your skin. the saturated squelches of your pussy were so loud, he holds onto your hips before a pussy drink grin tugs against both corners of his lips. “attaaaa girl. move those hips, ride me good, birthday girl.”
the friction was so delicious, so appetizing..
you were barely moving but you felt like you were gonna screw up and cream all down his shaft. with your face still burying itself into the crook of his neck, your hips finally start to adapt to some sort of steady rhythm. gojo huskily grunts, feeling the welcoming grip your cunt gifts him every time he goes inside. the elastic stretch always makes him short circuit. as his blushing tip thrashes its way inside, your hips roll and it’s only then that you start to sloppily lurch against his lap.
“t- toruuu,” you sob out in a sweet broken syllable, your own words sticking against your tongue. strong, built arms hold you upright as you’re making steady haste. the music of the store seems to get louder and you don’t even care if you get caught anymore.
with the way his cockhead’s smooching up against your sweet spot, you’re already dumb, stupid ‘n hungry for more of your beloved sugar daddy. your whines always ghost right up against his earlobe, falling on deaf ears every time. your sweet, carnal sounds makes his dick twitch. the electric pulse surges through your cunt and you feel it — shivering, glancing at him and he shoots you a flashy, sheepish grin. “yeah, ‘s okay baby. doin’ so good for me.”
even still, you’re adjusting to his size. the big stretch has your lips parted and circular, moans spilling out of your lips again and again until you were a broken record.
every single time, gojo’s cock extends inside of you through and through. it’s like it comes natural to him. no matter how many times he’d please you, you’d always end up getting a bit more stretched out than the last time.
a constant lewd loop,
“s— satoru,” you start to whine again, swiveling your hips against him. he’s seated down on the bench, taking in your body and the way your breasts bounce. he can’t help but snatch a feel, bringing a hand toward your left mound, squeezing two fingers against your nipples. with your frilly blouse still on, he’s just tugging against fabric but you start feel the familiar incoming shockwaves of pleasure. you let off a tiny squeal, head tossing back and your teeth digging into your bottom lip. “ngh, ‘toru. ‘m sensitive.”
“baby you’re always sensitive,” he teases.
lowering his head down between your neglected tits, gojo pulls up your blouse and leisurely slides his tongue down the sheeny crack of your chest. you’ve got a bit of a glow, probably from your recent teeth shattering orgasm. “mhm, look at my girls. they get prettier every time i see ‘em,” and as you’re still swaying your hips against him, he pops out one of your tits from your bra, sucking against the tender skin. you whimper over and over, he can barely get a good solid suck from the constant movement of your hips. you’re jittery, repeatedly moving back and forth against him, about to erupt as if your cunt was a volcano. “thaaat’s my girl, always taste so sweet.”
you ruffle his hair a bit as he’s latching his mouth against one of your sore nipples. the mobility of your hips so sloppy and unstable. he tends to each nipple, latching his wet lips against the sore mounds before slobbering all over it. as you’re grinding against him in an alluring manner, your eyes start to roll back. “toru, ngh. ‘s fuckin’ big,” you squeak out in a tiny mewl, your voice entirely small.
you’re moving so much that he could barely keep up, burying his face into your chest. his hot breath tickles against your skin — it’s feverish, sending a multitude of shivers to race down your spine.
he grunts in annoyance at your bra in the way, snatching it down to properly attach his plump lips against your neglected nipples. gojo sucked until they were all sore ‘n swollen, madly pulsating from the salacious stimulation. he eyes you with a teasing simper, a crinkle informing underneath his eye as he licks up his saliva dripping down the bare valley of your chest.
“y’r always a perfect fit though,” he whispers, another groan leaving out of his throat. as he’s leaning back again, allowing you to continue riding him, you’re just completely dumbfounded.
irises were dilated, lungs were full, toes curled.
you moan once he spanks your ass at the feeling of your hips slowing down, his way of encouraging you to keep at it. with your frilly blouse pulled up, he gawks at your body and admires how you match his crazed tempo, rolling and mirroring the same amounts of rickety.
“my fuckin’ girl,” he grunts, a hand sliding down your ass again, spanking it again. “uh huuuh,” his tongue slides against his lips, averting his gaze at your seductive looking hips. “just like that, sweetheart. niiiice ‘n slow, ‘toru’s not going anywhere.”
as you’re jerking forward against him, constantly bouncing against his thickset, bulky base — your jaw hangs wide open. he’s reached your sweet spot, it’s out of nowhere and you feel a bundle of nerves scream all through out you. your limbs were getting weary, and as your arms wrap around his shoulders, you nibble on his chin. “satoru, satoru, f— fuuuuck.”
he chuckles, watching as both of your eyes close tight, feeling one of your hands slither its way inside of his dress shirt. “hm,” he looks down, and your fingertips feel against his chiseled washboard abs. your pace was relentless, and with the feeling of just how ripped he was, you felt that same twitch arise in your cunt again. “fuck yeah, baby. touch me anywhere you like. this body ‘s all yours,” and you moan from his provocative words, still moving back and forth. gojo’s scent made itself well known throughout the entire dressing room. his abs instinctively clench from your gentle yet tender touch. “make me feel so good.”
“i- i do?” you moan, his words alone sending you a plethora of spine-chilling chills everywhere. they linger for a long time before you feel yourself starting to tighten. you were hungry for his approval, his praise — anything.
“yes, sweetheart,” he grunts, cupping your face as your hips continue to rock against him. he was reaching his inevitable limit and so were you, gojo’s face turns flustered and his pretty blue eyes flicker backward for a moment. that action alone was sexy, only you made him like this. “you like hearin’ what you do to me, huh?”
his voice was always so low — deep ‘n pitchy, it had the right amount of rasp hiding underneath it.
the timbre, it was a huskiness that always got you soaked. gojo moved his hands back down toward your waist, helping you keep up your frantic rhythm. every few seconds, you felt his throbbing dick plunge in and out of your drooling cunt. it’s so thorough, and every once and a while, it slips out. “fuuuck,” he groans, lifting you up before aligning himself back in. “got me workin’ over time, baby. stay still, yeah.”
your sweet nub was constantly being kissed up against, and you’re already so so stupid.
metaphoric heart eyes form through your pupils as you twitched ‘n fluttered on his cock. the moment you came again, and again, and again, there was barely a thought in your mind. you were always left being a puddled mess, swollen walls perfectly ravaged and stretched out.
it’s probably been about a good hour or two.
the dressing room had a sweet smell of tangy sweat and cologne—you whimper, babbling repeatedly as you’re now bent back over again.
but this time, gojo’s fucking you from behind.
he’s probably had you do various positions, and he was just about to finish again, anticipating to see another load pour right into your puffy pussy.
“s- shit,” he swallows a lump residing in his throat, catching your secretive hand trying to reach down and touch yourself. “princess..”
you pause, your hand staying still and he chuckles — pressing right up against your ass. he’s still pumping you full mid-thrust, a free hand wrapping its way around the back of your throat. his tone sounded like you’d just been caught redhanded. “aw, someone’s eager. but you always ask before touchin’ this sloppy pussy, right?”
with your breath hitching, he’s continuing to reel you back into his sharp hips within each piston of a thrust. with your mouth opened wide, you moan. “y- yes,” and as he’s jutting his cock into your gripping walls, you whimper out a sweet question of want. “can i touch myself, ‘toru?”
“let me think, baby.”
and you whine, a pouty expression marinating against your features as he’s got you pressed up against the mirror once more. gojo chuckles, clammy hands squeezing against your ass. “oh, you big baby. ‘m joking, go ‘head princess.”
as your fingers skid down your sopping pussy, it’s immediately coated with your slick. you whine, feeling his pace go faster before he groans. after a while, he’s just about there. gojo’s eyes remain fixated on your pretty rear — skin against skin clashing onto each other in such sync ‘n harmony.
his orgasm hits him like a truck. as a pretty translucent ring forms around his heavy cock, lust foils at his brain. “hah, fuck, pretty. such a mess, arch more for me, good girl. good fuckin’ girl.”
with the way he’s praising you continuously, you felt the constant twitches of your pussy cling onto his length. as your limbs were shaky ‘n on their final concluding hinges, you grow quiet at the feeling of him dumping in yet another sweet sticky load of cum. in the process — he coats the fabric of your panties with his mess, luxuriating in how sloppy you looked.
everything feels so slow - it’s probably been hours.
the current song that’s playing on the speakers, you’ve heard that same chorus for at least three times now.
it’s so warm inside, the flushed left temple of your cheek sticks against the mirror as you’re pressed right up against it. “f- fuck.” you wheeze out, allowing him to pump you full of creamy, velvety loads. he groans, throwing his head back and letting off a deep exhale. pretty lashes of his flutter shut as he’s staring openly at the way your cunt swallows its favorite bittersweet meal. with his mushroom tip still thrashing against the bulb of your sensitive clit, he gradually pulls out.
gojo’s eyes remain at your backside — gazing at the way he’s overflowed you with ropes ‘n ropes of hot wads of cum.
he licks his lips, staring in awe at how it dribbles down your thighs so effortlessly. it’s so messy,
a thumb of his swipes down the inner crevices of your thighs, getting a taste of it himself. “such a pretty girl,” he huffs, bringing the same thumb up to his lips to get a good enough taste. with the honeyed concoction of both flavors, he hums in contentment. “awww,” he stands up, taking in your dumbed down state. you were still panting, cum dripping out of your swollen hole.
you’ve still got a brief portion of your fist in your mouth - trying to suppress your sweet noises, split knuckles tickling against your tongue. “cute. c’mere, princess.”
you shudder, feeling him reposition your panties whilst pulling up your frilled skirt. with a teasing smile, he kisses your forehead, giving the fat of your ass one more squeeze. “you did so good,” and once he’s making sure you’re okay, with glossed eyes—you leer as he drags his slacks back up, zipping up his fly. as you gawk, gojo looks so handsome. ruffled white strands all over the place and his once professional dress shirt was now all unbuttoned ‘n scruffy. “hm,” he catches you staring, and he strokes the bottom of your chin. “you look hungry for more,” and his voice gets a bit low, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips, watching as you pout once he devastatingly pulls away. “happy birthday baby.”
“t- thank you, ‘toru,” you speak, trying to catch your breath. abruptly, you’re suddenly being lifted up by him, bridal style. a gasp wrenches out of you before you involuntary hurl your feeble, numb arms over his tense shoulders. he smells so good, you sink your face into the collar of his tux, feeling his body rumble from a chuckle.
“welcome,” and he unlocks the dressing room, walking out with you in nowhere but his warms. glancing at you, he whispers in a sweet low tone. “let’s get you outta here, hm? a nice warm bath ‘s waitin’ for ya at home. don’t want my baby’s limbs to be all sore.”
and as gojo’s carrying you and your bags with one arm supporting underneath you—he continues to make his way toward the front of the store.
he’s met with a few eyes yet he could care less. all he cared about was you, his pretty princess.
you shift a bit in his arms, still feeling creamy remnants of his cum plug you full even while being protected by your panties and skirt. it sticks against the fabric and you couldn’t help but grow flustered, feeling your thighs glue ‘n stick together. as he’s just about to leave out the door, he’s interrupted by the loud sound of a beep.
it’s the anti-theft security alarm, and gojo groans once he’s stopped by one of the employees.
“sir, i think you forgot to pay.”
“oh right,” the white haired man rubs the back of his neck, gently placing you back down on your feet. you glance up at him and your forehead’s met with another one of his tender, sweet kisses. “stay put, baby.”
you nod, watching as his back turns. he trods toward the cashier, whipping out his black card that he had you use for the majority of the day. as he’s paying for your items, he apologizes for the inconvenience with the most faux unknowing expression. gojo leaves a big tip in advance before making his way back toward you.
his staggering height stands tall and he slings an arm over your shoulder. he grabs your bags, having you lean against him as you both finally make your way out of the store.
“c’mon, darlin,” gojo mutters in a low tone, guiding you out of the mall. he’s still holding you close, but he stops briefly to plant a kiss near the inside of your neck. “still not done makin’ a mess out of my messy baby girl.”
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