yemmuis

[yemmuis]

morning after . . . ⇢ satoru gojo

˗ˏˋsummary: you lost sight of when things with satoru started feeling so much more intimate, like so much more than just a 'friends with benefits' deal you both neither proposed nor opposed...

˗ˏˋwc: 4.6k

˗ˏˋcontains: gn!reader x gojo, fluff, fwb, sleeping in, mentions of drinking/drunk hookups, suggestive themes (MDNI), reader is whipped but so is he, mutual pining (lots of it), satoru is eepy, discussing Feelings and whatnot, best friends with benefits to lovers, did i mention pining, light angst (heh... because of the pining)

˗ˏˋa/n: this was just an excuse to gush about how nice it must be to wake up next to satoru 🧍‍♀️

if not for the sunlight peeking through the blinds on the window just across the room, you were sure you wouldn’t have woken up when you did.

alas, as the sun’s rays seeped into the bedroom, making its way to the bed and crawling over the sheets until it reached your eyelids which fluttered open not too long afterwards, it was obvious you most definitely would not be falling back asleep anytime soon. you blinked once, twice, your mind still fuzzy and registering your surroundings; and as your mouth slowly fell open into a deep yawn, you began to stretch your tired limbs when you found them unable to move. 

as if it were a slap in the face, you blinked again, eyes fully open now as you craned your head to face your left when you felt the body next to you shift slightly with your subtle movements; having forgotten where you were and how you got there until your brain tuned in on the sound and feel of deep, slow breaths fanning the nape of your neck.

you were in satoru’s bedroom. in satoru’s arms. you wanted to be surprised, but if you were honest with yourself there was absolutely nothing surprising about both your and satoru’s behavior anymore; especially not after months of it.

you sighed at the sight of satoru beside you, because as much as you’d wanted there to be boundaries in what you both did, those lines only got more blurred the longer this went on. this — this unspoken arrangement between you two. a night of fire and passion that ended with you falling asleep in satoru’s arms, only for you to wake up the next morning realizing you’d lost sight of where the line is. you lost sight of when it’d started feeling so much more intimate, so much more than just a friends with benefits deal you both neither proposed nor opposed. 

but that wasn't your favorite part about it.

your favorite part of this unofficial arrangement — something all your mutual friends seemed to know about but never questioned, something that made your desire to feel satoru’s lips on yours after one too many drinks feel so natural. something that engraved the sound of satoru’s deep moans into your memory banks like a record stuck on repeat, constantly echoing in your head as your own hands wandered under your bedsheets on most other nights.

it was not just the sensation of feeling so full of satoru, but rather being wrapped up in him, cradled into his warm embrace under the thick comforter draped over your shoulders. evened out breaths coming out in slow exhales as satoru hid his face in your hair, one arm wrapped around your midsection, tucked under your elbow and over your stomach, his palm laying flat against the often bared skin. the other arm was always either folded against your back, hand resting underneath his head, or it would be laying flat underneath you and around your shoulders, reaching around you and tangling in your own arms.

(on one morning a while back, you found you’d grabbed satoru’s hand at one point in the night, or satoru may have grabbed yours. but your intertwined fingers had left a tingling sensation in you that continued to burn in your fingertips for the following week — a fire that’s yet to be put out)

the feeling of being wrapped up in satoru’s embrace. all the warmth, the safety that seems to come with it. that’s your favorite part of this whole thing — feeling warm, feeling safe. wanted.

in the crisp december air, the cold often radiated through the drywall and into satoru’s apartment, leaving it much cooler than it was the first morning you had woken up in his bedroom all those months ago. it was during february earlier in the year, the night of suguru’s birthday party. held at satoru’s place, everyone had gotten drunk off beer and rum, and were all passed out in the living or guest rooms. with the exception of you and satoru, who’d both stumbled into satoru’s room after a drunken dare.

your lips first met his in the direction of a spinning glass bottle, and they hadn’t parted until your back hit the mattress of satoru’s bed, only separating to gasp when satoru’s wandering hands slipped underneath your shirt. and when you woke the next morning, the first of many with him, the incessant pounding in your head from your hangover was not nearly as strong as the pounding in your heart when your remembered what happened. you swore off alcohol to avoid crossing any more lines with your best friend ever again, but that rule was quickly forgotten the following week when you all got together once again. when you woke up in satoru’s embrace, again.

even as the months passed, and the temperature oscillated as the seasons changed, it did nothing to change the sheer warmth that spread throughout your chest every morning you woke up in satoru’s apartment. in fact, as it got colder now, in contrast satoru’s embrace around you only seemed to get warmer. you secretly craved this warmth.

shifting in his hold, you turned your body to face satoru completely, head falling back down on the pillow as you lay on your side. in his sleep, you observed, satoru was at his most vulnerable state. his underlying neediness was most evident in the way he held onto you, as if he was afraid that you would float away from him if he were to let go. the delicateness of his snow-white eyelashes that settled over his cheekbones were a marvelous sight on its own; the contrast between the snowy strands and his soft pink cheeks stood out to you like nothing you’d ever seen.

the sunlight seemed to embrace satoru in its own way as well, kissing every inch of his face as it leaked through the blinds, making itself at home. you couldn’t help the flutter in your heart as you watched satoru in his peaceful slumber; a beautiful sight you were lucky enough to witness. 

it was something you still couldn’t believe you were experiencing. it was something you felt like you could write stories and songs and poems about, rambling on and on about his ocean-like eyes and sharp features morphing into soft, delicate ones around the edges, an almost perfectly symmetrical beauty that was all-natural… and you just couldn’t keep it to yourself.

“i don’t get it.” you would mumble, softly as first, your hand coming up to card your fingers through your hair as you glanced at the kitchen entrance for a brief second to make sure no one else would walk in on your conversation. “why do i feel so lucky to have a taste of something that will never truly belong to me?”

“honestly,” another one of your closest friends shoko ieiri, usually the one to hear these emotional ramblings, shrugged at your words. “the unspoken part of this unofficial arrangement is as surprising to me as it is to you. you two are very talkative with each other, but there’s something you both have to come to terms with that i can’t help you figure out. you gotta do it on your own.” is what she’d reply with, nudging at your shoulder when you would shake your head in response again.

“i don’t… i don’t know what i think, what i feel. i mean, i- he’s my best friend.”

“why are you telling me this? i already know that.” shoko replies nonchalantly, and you suddenly feel like you’ve had this conversation a thousand times before. every time it takes you no further than the point you’re currently at. “does satoru know that, or does he think it’s something else? something more?”

for a moment, satoru’s breath comes out in a quiet snore, loud enough to pull you from your thoughts and back to the sight in front of you. satoru’s lips stretch into a thin line, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he swallows before his face relaxes again, evidence that he was still fast asleep. the corners of your own lips twitch upwards at the sight, fighting back a smile of endearment. if you knew any better, you’d say you were growing feelings for satoru, but there’s no way that’s what’s happening… right?

besides, from your own understanding of it, being in love was supposed to feel like you were flying. you didn’t feel that around satoru.

instead, however, you look at satoru and think he is the one flying instead, forever chasing his youth in the sun. reflecting the warmth it radiates into his interactions with everyone around him, always bubbling with energy and full of love in his own unique ways. something about his ability to switch the mood of every room he’s ever been in (for better or for worse) has had you stuck to his side like a magnet, drawing you in closer and closer until you found you couldn’t escape. or at least, you hadn’t wanted to. 

you think of the story of icarus when you look at satoru, of a boy flying higher and higher to fully soak in the sun, but rather than having his wings melt off, for satoru they grow stronger. as if he was born of the sun, recharging and bringing this bright energy back to all the people he cares about, even as it burned him a little bit in the process.

satoru snores again, and you have to chew on your lower lip to stifle a giggle when you catch sight of his mouth hanging open again against the pillow. your own face relaxes into a soft smile, unable to take your eyes off of satoru. something about the morning after a night with him always makes your chest feel tight, a feeling you weren’t too familiar with and weren’t necessarily sure you were enjoying. it constantly tugged at your heartstrings the longer you looked at him and it felt… odd. letting out a shaky breath, hesitantly, your hand went up to brush a few strands of hair from satoru’s forehead.

slowly, you began to run your fingers through satoru’s hair, and as your brain was starting to catch up with you, you nearly snatched your hand away when satoru stirred. he hadn’t woken up yet, but he hummed in his sleep, shifting his head slightly as if he was subconsciously attempting to lean into the soft touch of your hands. you felt the tightness in your chest again.

a small groan rumbled in the back of satoru’s throat, and while you continued to card your fingers through the white strands, satoru shifted again and your heart stopped when you realized satoru was waking up. pulling your hand back immediately, it found its way underneath your head on the pillow, and before satoru’s eyes had opened you shut your own, pretending to be fast asleep as satoru woke up.

though you couldn’t see him with your eyes closed, you heard the loud yawn escape satoru’s lips, and imagined his fluttering eyelids adjusting to the sunlight. satoru lifted his arm from around your stomach presumably to stretch, and you had to fight back a smile while hearing a small squeak escape satoru’s lips. his arm then fell back around your middle, exhaling again. now came the part you always secretly dreaded.

it was silent for a moment, save for the soft sounds of satoru’s breath escaping his nose. as per most other mornings where satoru would wake up first (or so he thought; you usually pretended to be asleep whenever he did), you had expected satoru to unwrap the long limbs embracing you, always in a slow manner to prevent you from waking up. after satoru would release you from his hold, he’d either distance himself in bed to not weird you out when you awoke, or he would actually get up and drag himself to the bathroom in the hallway, closing the door on the shroud of intimacy you both shared in your slumber.

you were already thinking of how you would pretend to wake up when satoru would begin moving.

but satoru didn’t do any of that this time around. instead, you heard him hum deeply, and your gut feeling told you satoru’s eyes were glued to your face, perhaps even with an endearing smile of his own; but you didn’t want to entertain the possibility too far. you felt satoru lift his arm again, and to your surprise, satoru’s hand came up to your face. his gentle touch was almost enough to make you combust, suddenly overcome once again with the intensity of a foreign feeling you desperately tried to bury. satoru’s fingertips touched your cheek, softly at first, his hand almost cupping your face. he then began to move up to brush your hair off your forehead and trace his fingers from your hairline all the way across your scalp until his hand finally settled at the nape of your neck. 

unexpectedly, satoru moved the arm he had around your shoulders a little lower to wrap around your midriff instead, and he swiftly pulled you closer into his embrace, carefully tucking your head underneath his chin and into his chest as he fully wrapped both arms around you, your legs tangling with his in the process. you felt your heart stop and then start again, beating twice as fast this time around.

“i know you’re awake.” satoru mumbled against your hair, and your eyes snapped open. “relax… i��m just getting more comfortable.” he yawned, his tone groggy and thick with sleep. you sighed into his chest and caved, allowing yourself to relax in his arms.

“it’s cold this morning…” he hummed softly after a beat of silence, one of his hands absentmindedly rubbing your back to generate more heat for you. satoru closed his eyes again, exhaling slowly, and it almost sounded like he was going to fall back asleep. his grip around you tightened ever so slightly. “you sleep well?” 

you didn’t know what to say in response. anything you had intended on saying — like some rinse-and-repeat from every other morning you’ve woken up with him — died on your tongue, as you were completely distracted by the soft thump of his heartbeat in his chest instead. if you pressed your ear against it and concentrated a little further, you’d have heard the way it fluttered just the slightest bit when you melted further in his embrace. 

satoru’s brows furrowed when you didn’t respond, slowly loosening his grip around you to pull your head back. “lemme see you…” he murmured, his tone gentle and sweet and enough to make your heart do a pathetic little flip. he cupped your jawline, tilting your head back enough for you to meet his eyes. even when he’s half-asleep, the intense gaze he holds in his irises makes you feel like your world is spinning. his thumb brushed over your cheekbone, gentle in the way he traced the pad of it over your flushed skin. the corners of his lips twitched upwards, just enough for you to notice the gears turning in his head as he thought of something to say. “you’re blushing.”

and just like that, all the tension in the air snapped like a twig. with a loud groan, you tucked your face back into his shoulder, feeling him shake beside you as a breathless laugh rippled through his chest. “you’re annoying…” you grumbled in response, your voice muffled against his skin. you could already picture the way he must have beamed with a mischievous glint in his eyes, if his arms squeezing you gently told you anything about his reaction. he hummed softly, contently. 

the silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it was… deafening. his soft breath tickled the back of your neck, and you felt like you were supposed to do something. anything. this is the longest you both had stayed in bed together after waking up, it felt like you were waiting for something to happen but nothing did, and it made your stomach twist in all sorts of knots. having modesty regarding your body around satoru is old news, but moments like this made you want to curl up and hide yourself from him. moments like this make you wonder if he still held any sort of attraction towards you after the alcohol was filtered out of his system.

“you bored already?” he murmured softly when he felt you starting to slip from his embrace, your body completely stiff as you pulled away from him. the slight amusement in his voice was only overshadowed by the sleepy tone he used, indicative of the fact that he was not fully present to notice how much you were internally freaking out. “kinda wanted to lay here with you a bit longer, but i guess if you wanna get up…” satoru trailed off then, his mouth forming a small, playful pout. you suddenly felt the urge to kiss his stupid, sleepy face.

“oh, i just…” you trailed off as well, unsure what to say. what were you supposed to say, anyway? you don’t think that telling him ‘hey, sorry i’m just kinda freaking out because i think i have very real feelings for you and every time you look at me like that i want to either kiss you or hide under the sheets’ would go so well. “just… didn’t think you wanted to sleep in, is all…’ you added, hoping it was a good enough excuse for him to brush off your words. (spoiler alert: it was not.)

“you’re not gettin’ all shy on me now, are you?” he teased gently, a lopsided grin tugging at his mouth as his fingers found your wrist, lightly tugging you towards him again. “don’t you think we’re both way past that already?” he chuckled, his eyes shining a little more when he saw the way the blush crept down your neck. 

“i’m not, it’s just that…” you sighed heavily, and the conflicted furrow in your brows made satoru blink a little bit in surprise, as if he was just catching on to how nervous you feel. his thumb rubbed along the skin of your wrist comfortingly, and he scooted closer to lay his head on the very pillow you used, his nose just brushing against yours in the process. “you okay?” he asked when you remained silent, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it before.

“don’t you… don’t you think this has been going on for too long already?” you mumbled after a moment of silence, choosing your words carefully as you searched his eyes for any reaction from him. when his expression remained neutral, likely a conscious decision on his behalf, you took a deep breath before you continued talking. “like, it’ll be a year in 2 months, and we never even really talked about this. is that not… concerning you at all?” you added, a little hesitantly. when he blinked at you is when you noticed how tightlipped he looked, as if he was holding back the natural reaction he wanted to have to your words. you wished he wouldn’t hold it back.

“well…” he started after considering your words for a moment, exhaling softly. “do you want to? talk about it, i mean,” he says, stammering just a little bit over his words. he swallowed thickly, looking down at your wrist in his hands, and then back up at your face. “are you… having regrets?”

you hesitated in your response, and his expression seemed deflated when you didn’t respond immediately, as if he’d expected a different answer from you. “i think it’s too late for regrets.” you settled on, and something in your chest ached when his expression faltered for just a moment.

“so… that’s a yes, then?” he asked after a moment, because he needed to hear you say it exactly as it was. you sighed softly, shifting a little bit to lay on your back as you opted to look up at the ceiling for the sake of your fluttering chest.

“yes… and no…” you said, and you could feel satoru shift as well as he lifted his head slightly to look down at your face. he let go of your wrist, and the absence of the warmth of his touch was noticed immediately. 

“i’m gonna need you to elaborate more on that before i share my response.” 

your lips pursed a little bit as you thought of what to say, your thumb fiddling over your bare stomach underneath the blanket. “yes, i’m having regrets. no, it’s… not in the way you’re thinking.” you mumbled after a moment, your eyes glued to the streams of light that filtered through the blinds, the small shapes casted across the ceiling being your excuse to avoid satoru’s gaze. “every night we spend together is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. it feels so good, so…” you bit your lip and shook your head, getting a little worked up just at the reminder of how good in bed satoru is. “it’s… its too good. i keep coming back for more, and you’re already such an important part of my life, i’m worried that i-… that i’ll…”

“…that you’ll fall for me?” satoru interjected carefully, and it was then that you turned your head to look at him beside you. his voice was so quiet, and the vulnerability he held in his eyes made you feel like you just had to kiss all his worries away. you’re not worried you’ll fall for him, you’re worried that you already have.

you didn’t respond, but he could see it in your eyes. the hesitation, the longing. months and months of pacing back and forth in your room for days after every night spent together, wondering why your heart was beating the way it was when you thought about him. wondering why you found every excuse to be with him, why your heart skipped a beat whenever he texted or called you randomly. “i just wanted to hear from you,” he would say each time, as if talking to you as frequently as he already did was a necessity for him. likewise, you found that on the days you both were too busy to see or speak to each other it always felt like something was missing. and when you both caught up as soon as you had the time, it felt like you could finally breathe again.

“can i be honest with you?” he spoke after a moment, exhaling softly as he dropped his head back down onto the pillow, laying on his back as well to mirror your own position as you both stared up at the ceiling of his room. “'course, ‘toru. i’m listening.”

he frowned a little bit when you used his nickname, hating the way his heart skipped a beat, but he sighed and continued anyway. “i don’t want this to stop.” he paused then, as if he cut himself off because his heart was about to leap out of his body through his throat. he swallowed roughly. “i want to keep doing this with you… i-… i want to do so much more with you…” he confesses, and the uncharacteristic hesitance in his tone almost makes it hard for you to believe what he’s saying. 

“you want… more…?” you asked carefully, simultaneously unsure and completely aware of what he was trying to say, but you had to hear him say it in clearer words to be safe. “what- um, what did you have in mind?” you almost feel like slapping yourself, just to make sure you’re still awake. 

satoru allows a small smile to creep on his face, if only for a moment, before replying. “i want to be with you like this every day- not, uh, not that we have to hook up every day- i mean, i wouldn’t necessarily complaineither if i’m being honest with you, but-“ he stammered as he tried to steady his train of thoughts and his rapidly beating heart. it was stupidly endearing. 

he shook his head again, effectively snapping himself out of it. “just… this-“ he paused, lifting his arm and gesturing a hand between the two of you. “i like this, this calmness. i just… like being with you like this.” for a man who never stopped talking, satoru only ever seemed to be at a loss for words when it came to describing his own feelings — when it came to voicing his own needs and desires, letting other people into a vulnerable part of his heart that he would sometimes seal away even from himself; as if burying it deep within his soul would make it easier to ignore.

you didn’t respond for a moment, instead letting his words settle in your mind and in your heart. you felt his fingertips brush against your wrist again, looking down to see him hesitantly coiling his fingers around the base of your palm. torn between holding your hand and giving you whatever space you needed to process his subtle confession. 

“you just…” he started to add after another moment of silence, his heart hammering in his chest. he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so nervous before, the sensation crawled all the way down to his fingertips and it took everything in him to keep them from trembling. “you make me feel crazy, y’know?” he said with a breath of a laugh, but his clipped tone of voice showed anything but amusement. “like, i don’t think i’ve ever felt so strongly about someone. when this all started, i thought-“ he cleared his throat, probably an excuse to hide the slight shake of his voice. “i thought you also felt the same way. but if you don’t, then…” his voice got a little quiet by the end, and you turned your head to see he was avoiding your gaze now, his eyes fixed on the ceiling with a tight furrow in his brows. he looked hurt.

“so, you’re saying… you like me?” you asked a little dumbly. satoru huffed in mild frustration, his cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink. 

“that’s precisely what i’m saying.” 

you hummed in response, and when you turned to look up at the ceiling again you felt a small smile tugging at your lips. “…okay.” is all you said. you felt satoru shift beside you, like he was expecting the worst to come of your response, but when you turned your wrist in his grasp to slide your fingers in between his, he stiffened a little bit before relaxing and gently squeezing your hand.

“so…” he spoke up after a few moments of silence, his tone still nervous. “that’s alright with you, then?”

you glanced at him with a small smile, your gaze softening when you saw the way he nervously chewed on his lower lip in anticipation. “i think it is, yeah…” you whispered softly.

the smile he gave you made your heart flutter in your chest. he let out a breath of relief, his face flushing a little bit as he gazed at you with so much affection — the same way he always looked at you. except now, you could finally put a name to what that look in his eyes was.

there wasn’t much else to say after that. neither of you needed to say anything else. it was reminiscent of the way this whole thing started — in satire’s bed all those months ago. there wasn’t much of a need to discuss it after the first few weeks, because you both knew where you’d end up by the evening on most nights anyway. you knew each other like the sun knows the moon, and it couldn’t be any clearer right now. there was no need to further discuss what it would mean for you two moving forward from this conversation, because now you both knew exactly what you wanted — and that was each other. 

[yemmuis]

!! notice !!

i’m rebranding my blog to just ‘yemmuis’ :)) i might also change my pfp soon!! thank u lovelies

[yemmuis]

ridin' nanamin for the first time...

a/n: nsfw, riding, methinks this fits older boyfriend nanami so let’s say implied age gap😊 18+ mdni!

"ken, i wanna try to ride you."

your immodest request had taken your boyfriend by surprise, such forward ways of speaking often foreign to you. you had "tried" to ride him before, though it was more of a little grinding while you were on top. this time was going to be different, though, you were going to ride him.

"oh?" he'd all but coo, lacing his words with a slight mockery, "is that so?" kento's cunning, rare smile towards you afterwards almost makes you give in; but no, you're determined.

not without a little teasing, you set yourself up atop the older man, legs hiked up on either side of his waist with your feet planted firmly into the bed. reaching down, you guide the thick head of nanami's cock to your already sopping entrance, easing your hips down to take all of him.

you swat at kento, signaling you need some type of leverage, and his big, experienced hands come to interlock fingers with yours. it's sweet, really, how his arms hold you up so effortlessly while you struggle to remain composed on top of him. his muscles become more exposed and veinier as he continues to balance your weight against him.

conjuring up whatever strength you have, you lift yourself up with your legs and plop! back down, eyes completely focused on the reaction you're to receive from kento. yet he only finds it amusing how attentive you are to his pleasure, and he gives you to go-ahead to try it again.

this time, you try a series of multiple little bounces, each little 'plop' becoming increasingly heavier with each drop of your pelvis. but the one thing that drives you to not stop, to keep going without the need for hesitation, is the expression that comes over your boyfriend's face.

it's...intense. kento's eyebrows furrow together, his eyes close lightly, and every previous appearance of a smile is wiped from his lips as they form into a small 'o' shape. he looks as if he's focused, even with his eyes shut, on how your body tries so hard to pleasure him.

and the thing that really kills him is that you keep going. because he was so used to you being fucked dumb so easily, giving yourself up to him within the first few seconds of his intoxicating touch.

but kento can understand the thrill of the power he's giving you.

you muster up all the adrenaline left in your cells, legs burning with such fever you hate yourself for taking on this feat, pushing into your boyfriend's arms to keep yourself upright. strings of slick connect from the base of nanami’s cock to your cunt, a downright obscene sloshing and squelching coming from where the both of you interlock.

though your body aches for you to stop, you can't, not now. the constant unwinding of kento's brick wall attitude is too inebriating for you to quit.

[yemmuis]

gojo core is when your pregnant wife finds out the gender of your baby and bakes a reveal cake to surprise you but your dumbass comes home hella tired from work, sees a huge cake in the fridge, and starts eating the whole thing like a big back while wondering the whole time why the inside of it was pink. you stumble into your shared bedroom and pass out on the bed until a few hours later you’re being smacked awake by your angry wife because you still had frosting and pink cake crumbs around your mouth. it didn’t go as planned but you still cry your eyes out while laying your head on her swollen tummy and sluggishly babbling on about how you “ate your baby girl.”

[yemmuis]

★ thinking about virgin!choso who's actually the roughest of the jjk men once he gets inside of you for the first time.

he may appear sweet and innocent from the outside, with those wide chestnut eyes and adorable messy pigtails... but don't be so easily fooled so by his exterior — haven't you ever heard that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover?

because while his body trembles like a baby fawn and a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead as he pushes the first few inches of his flushed cock into you, he becomes an entirely different person when he finally bottoms out.

what begin as gentle whimpers turn into animalistic growls as he experiments with a few slow thrusts into your wet heat, swollen tip hitting against your spongy g spot each time with how deep his lengthy dick is buried.

but soon enough, those shallow, unsure movements of his hips are morphing into ruthless, forceful slams; as if his entire way of being has been altered by the mere feeling of your snug cunt wrapped around him.

and he can't seem to stop even for a moment now that he's settled into a rhythm, eyes screwed tightly shut in pleasure and fists clenched in the sheets either side of your head as the entire bed rocks back and forth with the sheer strength behind his movements.

he's completely lost in his own in his own little world, ears deaf to your desperate cries and pleas of "c-cho, you're going too fast!" or "can't take it anymore! 's too big!" as he continues to pound your poor body into the mattress.

thinking about choso who's no longer a virgin anymore but has to spend the aftermath of his first time comforting you, kissing away the dried remains of your tears and carrying your aching body to the bathroom to clean you up because your shaky legs are too weak to walk on.

[yemmuis]

blowing up ur phone...

─ obsessed bf!gojo x gn!reader ⋆. based on: 22 - lil candy paint, bhad bhabie

gojo had a bad habit.

a bad habit of blowing up your phone.

it wasn’t the 'three texts in a row' kind of blowing up, either.

oh no, gojo satoru didn’t do small-scale chaos.

it was an art form for him. the type of masterpiece that made your phone buzz off your nightstand at 3 a.m. with thirty consecutive messages that alternated between blurry selfies, close-ups of his sunglasses, and texts like:

“hey👋 (with the intention of getting midnight sushi)”

“do u think panda would let me dye him pink? 🤔”

“pick up plzzz i jsut saw the funniest video on instagram but i accidnetally exited tje app it and cant find it anymore so i'm jsut going to explain it to you in excruciatign detail”

and tonight was no different—except this time, it came after your first real argument.

you couldn’t even remember what had set it off anymore, but it had ended with you storming off and gojo… well, doing whatever gojo does when someone’s mad at him (probably eating mochi and sulking).

soon enough, after an hour or so of no contact, the first barrage had begun: thirty consecutive texts ranging from the initial

“i’m sorry 🥺👉👈”

to a dramatic

“why do you hate me? 😭💔 (don't answer that.)”

you’d ignored all of them, determined to let him stew.

but then the calls begun.

ring after ring, voicemail after voicemail, starting out with intense professions of love that slowly faded into desperate pleas for you to call him back, text him back, to respond just once.

and when those went unanswered too, he escalated.

your phone buzzed on your nightstand, flashing yet another text. this time, it came with a photo—gojo lying facedown on what appeared to be megumi’s couch, his hand clutching an empty box of tissues. the caption read:

“i’ve been crying for 84 years 😢 come back pls”

you rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitched at the photo despite yourself.

he’s impossible.

another buzz. this one said,

“fine if ur not gonna answer just know ur the light of my life and i’ll literally wither away like an unwatered houseplant if u don’t forgive me soon 😭 also ur socks are still in my room do u want me to wash them or nah”

the buzz after that said,

“actually nah i'm not bothered to wash them"

and then another buzz.

"also u look hotter when ur mad 🥰”

the audacity of this man.

you let your impulses get the better of you and texted back a stern "leave. me. alone."

and not even a second later, your phone screen lit up with gojo's face for the umpteenth time.

you groaned, snatching it up and finally swiping to answer to put an end to all of this.

“gojo, what part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you understand?!”

“oh my god,” he gasped, his voice overflowing with fake relief. “you’re alive!”

“i—”

“you weren’t answering, so i thought maybe you’d been kidnapped! or fallen down a well! or—”

“i ignored you,” you interrupted sharply. “on purpose.”

“no yeah, i got that,” he said breezily, completely unfazed. “but we're talking now! the devil sure does work hard, but gojo works harderrrrr."

"gojo—"

"so, how much did ya miss me?”

"gojo."

"also did you see my text about the socks?”

"gojo!"

“aaaaand i’m outside your window by the way.”

“you’re what?”

“outside!” he chirped back like it was the most normal thing in the world.

sure enough, when you yanked open your curtains, there he was—gojo satoru, standing on your lawn in a hoodie two sizes too big, clutching a mismatched bouquet of convenience store snacks and flowers that you could just tell he had made himself.

“ta-da~!” he grinned into the phone as you watched him hold up the haul like it was an olympic medal. “i come bearing gifts!”

you gawked at him. “are you serious?”

“deadly,” he said, his smile widening so much you could even see it from your vantage point. “i brought your favourite snacks, and also, i stole these flowers from my neighbour’s garden. don’t tell anyone.”

“oh my god.” you smacked your forehead, torn between laughing and drawing your curtains shut. “it’s three in the morning.”

“yeah, well, you didn’t answer my texts,” he said, pouting dramatically. “do you have any idea how sad that made me? i’m so sad, baby, like, devastated. i swear i saw my life flash before my eyes.”

you folded your arms, mock unimpressed. “what’s sad is that you think this is going to work.”

“it’s already working,” he shot back smugly. “you’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

you hated that he was right. you hated even more that your annoyance was quickly being replaced by amusement. he’s lucky he’s cute.

“toru, just go home,” you sighed, though your voice lacked its earlier venom.

“not until you forgive me,” he declared, dropping to one knee with such theatrics you were surprised broadway hadn't whisked him away already. “or at least let me in so i can grovel properly.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“yeah. unbelievably in love with you.”

you threw a pillow at the window, even though it wouldn’t reach him, giving yourself a minute to think.

okay, more like a few seconds. to be fair, you were sure he had learnt his lesson. and, well...you were craving ramen, which happened to be placed front and centre in his haphazard bouquet.

“fine!" you whisper-yelled into the phone, a smile already creeping its way onto your face despite your best efforts to stay mad. "but if you wake up my neighbours, i swear i'm locking you out.”

his grin practically lit up the yard. “deal!”

and just like that, you were stomping down the stairs, blanket in hand, ready to let in the most exasperating, ridiculous, adorable man you’d ever met.

because, really, how could you stay mad at him?

© ink-perfect; est. 2024.

[yemmuis]

Bad idea right

NSFW- you trip and fall into Gojo's bed- whoopsie

"We're... still... broken - ah - up!" You scream out as ex-boyfriend Satoru is pumping you full of his cock from the back. He chuckles, husky and deep as his cock strokes in and out of your soppy little cunt, your slick dripping down the veins of his cock onto the dark blue blankets on his bed.

"Sure we are, still... ha... broken up. F-fuck." He is moaning as you clamp your pussy down on him, walls tightening, making him cry out and you giggle deviously. "Ya fuckin brat, you really trying to make me bust quick?"

Your ex-boyfriend Satoru flips you on your back then, bending you in a mating press, and you look into those dilated blue eyes, his snowy hair falling over his forehead. "Still hate you, Toru." You manage to breathe the words out, hips arching up for him.

He smirks, shoving his cock back into your greedy pussy. "I know baby, but your pussy loves me."

"Ah!" You scream out as he's stuffing his cock so deep like this, your thighs are pressed against your breasts, you can barely breathe or think, feeling your walls fluttering around his thickness. "She's fuckin s-stupid, ngh." You're gasping for a breath, nails digging into his back hard, leaving cresent marks.

"She's so wet f'me, only me. Stop lying, you... mmm... don't like that little boyfriend of- ah - yours. Gonna fuck you stupid." He's bullying his cock in between your walls so mean, tip leaky and smashing your cervix. You cling to the sheets, eyes rolling back, mouth wide open, tongue lolling out. "there it is, stupid fucked out face."

"F-fuck... you... Toru, you dick! Ohmygod, c-cumming!" You're gushing around him as your orgasm wrecks you, and now ex-boyfriend Satoru is gripping your face, shoving your legs further against you as he's thickening. You've cum so much you hear it, the squelching wetness of your cunt.

"Gonna fill your pussy up, so you remember who you belong to." You smack at his shoulder, the hard muscles bunching as he leans over then, earning his psychotic grin, he grips your chin and rolls his hips, squishing your cheeks. "You're weak f'me baby, admit it."

You can't speak anymore, you just yank him down and smash his lips against yours, tongues dripping with saliva as your thighs tremble on his hips. "Nope. Gonna have to try harder, Toru."

He chuckles, then he's fucking your every last thought out of your brain, and you will wonder how you're gonna tell everyone you tripped and fell into ass hole ex-boyfriend Satoru's bed again later, for now you're getting filled by his cum, and you will just blame your pussy for her bad judgement, couldn't be you.

Was listening to Bad Idea Right from Olivia Rodrigo and thought of our boy lol

[yemmuis]

Girl I'm Into It

NSFW- WC- 1.4k- Request for heavy petting w/Gojo! College AU, lots of dry humping, touching, and teasing, Virgin Gojo blushing and whimpering for reasons lol <3

"Holy fuck the party's cramped." You mumble, sipping on this godawful punch in the middle of a rather insane frat party. The scent of smoke and cloyingly sweet liquor mixes with the endless amounts of men's axe body spray and cheap perfume. You look at Satoru then, shaking your head at him. "You really joining the frat, Toru?"

"Yeah, I mean why not? Suguru and Kento are."

"I know but... we play Digimon, Toru."

"Hush!" Satoru covers your mouth up quickly, looking around nervously, making you both laugh then. "You're the nerd."

"Me!?"

"You. Hey man, watch it!" Satoru shoves a dude who has bumped into you out of the way now, sighing as there are just far too many people, watching as you get nervous. "Wanna go to a room? Get away?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind?" You and Satoru had been friends forever, including now that you're in college of course, but parties weren't your thing, especially frat parties. But, you want to support Satoru in whatever he does. He leads you down the halls now, opening a room and peeking in, seeing a couple on the bed.

"Shit, sorry!" He closes the door, now opening another, grinning down at you brightly, his pretty blue eyes glittering under snowy lashes. "Got it."

"Thanks, Toru." You murmur, as he leads you in the room and shuts the door behind you both, the bed looks... questionable, so he instead sits on a big recliner, patting his long leg. You blush at the thought, hoping he can't see.

"Seat right here. The bed looks diseased." He says with a shiver of disgust, you laugh then, sitting on his thigh. You all had done this before at parties, you were good friends and it wasn't crazy but...

But Satoru's leg feels so good between your thighs.

So good you're nervous he can sense your heat, as you've both gotten older you've had more and more feelings for him. But now he's at this university, going to be in a frat, and you're over at an art school, he's right in saying you are a nerd...

"What's wrong silly?" He asks then, peeking at his phone, popping on a song, you try to relax a bit when his big hand is on your bare thigh so casually, he's leaning back to get comfortable, long legs sprawled out, pressing his thigh up even more.

"Um..." You gasp then, when your hips shift, and you feel your panties getting wet, panicking. He has on jeans thank god, maybe he doesn't notice!?

"Recharge that social battery." He teases, and you turn your head again, shifting your hips experimentally, he pauses now, lips parted, pouty pink ones you want to kiss so damn bad. "Fuck... you're..."

"Sorry, shit." You stand now, then look down in horror at the wet spot on his light blue jeans, covering your face in embarrassment. He gulps then, running a thumb over the sticky wetness, exhaling, blue eyes locked on it. "I'll leave-"

"Stop, it's normal yeah?" He laps it up on his thumb, moaning, and your pussy throbs around nothing. "Fuck it's... sweet?"

"It is?" You whisper, he nods then, looking up at you under those long snowy lashes, taking your hips carefully and spinning you towards him. "Gojo I've never..."

"Me either." You gasp at that, eyes wide, and he's blushing now, cheeks flushed pink on his perfect skin.

"How!? You're so popular, and gorgeous-"

"You think I'm gorgeous?" He asks, thin white brows drawn together, now you're between his thighs, his hands pressing into your hips, your entire body is reacting, your breaths quicker and quicker.

"Of course I do, Toru."

"Well I think you're pretty. So pretty." He says softly, and suddenly your hand is running through his silky white locks, as the other rests on a strong bicep over his long sleeved shirt.

"You do?" You manage to whisper, he nods, pulling you on his lap then, your thighs on either side, shaking as you kneel over him. "Toru what are..."

"Can we kiss? Please? Pretty please?" He bats his lashes, pouting, and you nod with a little nervous laugh. "I've done some things if you want me to show you?"

"Like kiss?" You whisper, lips pressing against his now, Satoru moans against your lips, you feel them, plush and firm against yours, his hot tongue slipping inside your mouth, you gasp then. You cling to his shoulders as your panties now brush against his lap, and you sink down, crying out at how good it feels, his hardness between your dripping folds.

"You're a good kisser." He murmurs, pulling back, pressing you down firmer now, and you're soaking your panties, ruining them completely, earning his groan. "I can feel how hot you are. She's so needy, hmm?" His tone goes husky, your lips part at it, gasping, your head falling back as you roll your hips again, grinding on his cock over his clothes.

"Satoru... need more." You whimper when he's kissing the tops of your breasts, then up your throat, licking and biting, bucking his hips up then, earning another cry of pleasure, heat pooling in your core. "Ngh!"

"Those sounds you make, fuck..." Satoru picks you up by your hips then, slipping a finger to your swollen clit over your panties. "They're soaked."

"Embarrassing... ah!" Satoru's little hum of satisfaction just makes you wetter, he's looking right at you, and you're drowning in that gaze, in the swirling blue depths of his eyes.

"Let me make you cum." He whispers, slipping past the elastic of your panties now, finding your soaking wet pussy with his fingers, you nearly fall apart at it, pausing your movements. He moans, hard cock shoving up more. "No, keep rocking on me."

"Y-you sure?" He nods eagerly, so you rock more on Satoru's cock, his finger rolling on your clit now in little circles, watching you, flushed cheeks, parted full lips. You kiss them as you cry out, grinding helplessly while he keeps rolling circles, then starts flicking back and forth. "Toru!"

"So wet, oh my god... so pretty..." He is urging you on more and more with every breath, every kiss, until you're about to fall, and he's sensing it, free hand grabbing your ass, shoving you further on his clothed cock, panties a sticky mess. You're dripping all the way down his finger as he's moaning, harder and harder between your lips. "Let go, I've got you."

"Toru I-"

"Cum." You scream out then, as if on command, shuddering as your wetness gushes all over, as you throb around nothing, making a mess of his finger, your panties, his jeans. He moans now, sucking on his finger before kissing you, grinding up more and more, gasping as you're trembling, clinging to him, wanting more and more...

suddenly the door knocks, and you both curse. "Go away." He grumbles, you giggle then, hips moving just a bit, and Satoru is now slipping down his zipper, you watch with a gulp as his cock is revealed, a sticky wet spot on his boxers as his pretty cock springs free, long and curved, making you wetter. " Can I... rub it on you?" He asks, you nod nervously, and Satoru now has slipped his pretty pink tip into your panties, rubbing on your engorged clit.

"Satoru!" You're gushing more and more, and he groans then, all flushed, clinging to your ass as he fucks your panties.

"F-fuck you're too wet, too hot I- ah- oh my god..." You feel something hot and sticky against you now, and you flush, looking down to see Satoru's cock is spurting hot white ropes of sticky cum agaisnt you. He rests his head on your chest, whimpering. "Fuck I'm sorry. Shit, shit shit..."

"Toru... it's okay." You whisper then, he is blushing as bad as you are when he tilts back, looking up, cupping your face gently. You place your hand down and lap some of it up, moaning. "You're yummy too."

"Fuck... let me..." Satoru picks you up then, taking off the panties he'd cum in, laughing a little nervously as you watch him, only for him to turn you and sit you on the seat, pushing your thighs apart. He fingers the sticky cum on your pussy lips, kneeling then.

"W-what are you doing?" You whisper, and he looks up at you with dilated eyes, kissing up your inner thigh.

"Gonna clean up my mess."

Virgin Toru is new for me aha, but he's adorableee

[yemmuis]

☆ gojo is so big that you have to go slow with taking him otherwise he will break you. and he loves that fact—he’s so cocky about it, about how every aspect of him is so overwhelming to you that you can’t take his cock without crying.

and they’re good tears, tears that taste good on his tongue when he licks them from your cheeks. tears that spring hot in your eyes with every inch he manages into you—he’s too much, though at the same time you can never get enough of him.

“gonna finally take all of me tonight, baby?” he mocks you, grins at the way your eyes squeeze shut as he rubs at your clit in hopes of relaxing you a tad. “you know, i could flip us over.. let gravity do the hard work.”

you accept because it sounds good in theory. gojo flips you both over and lays on his back as you find purchase with your fingers splayed over his heaving chest. but being like this, with satorus pulsing dick still barely half inside of you, you realise gravity hates you.

because although you're dropping just that little bit further down on his cock, your legs are trembling like it's an effort to keep you off of him. and gojo, being the cocky man he is, takes hold of your hips and works you even further downwards onto his length.

"fuck," is all you can manage, he's painful and narcotic all in the same stroke and so deep inside of you that you swear he's in your stomach. you shake your head, "i can't. you're too big, im sorry."

satoru shakes his head, looks up at you with those lust-blown eyes of his and smiles. "you want me to pull out?"

and as he tries to pull you up and off his length, slow as not to hurt you, there's a look on his face that you can't miss. he's so pretty when he's plotting, but you're only given a second to admire him, because just as he's about to pull the tip of his aching cock out of you, he lets go of your hips.

and your legs fail you, your body collapses downwards and you, in turn, are impaled on his prodigious length once again. you could cry, you think you do—your cheeks are wet when you fall forwards and your gasp of shock is swallowed by gojo, who kisses you hungrily. his fingers dig into your hips as he smiles against your kiss.

you feel his cock twitch inside of you, deeper than you've ever been able to take him before, and you realise you're practically at the base. you've never felt so full... so good... so stretched out and overwhelmed. and when your boyfriend tests the waters and fucks up into you just a little, a breathy moan is drawn straight from your lungs.

"toru—"

"shh," he snaps his hips up again to stall your words. "finally gonna cum inside of you, baby, not pulling out until you're left just as full as you are now."

and if your lover is anything at all, it's a man of his words. you'll have to call in sick tomorrow.

[yemmuis]

pornstar!nanami who has a signature style to his videos—all of which are solo content consisting of him, manspreading in front of the camera in an awfully expensive suit. as his hands trace the muscles of his thighs, the seams of his trousers, the outline of his hardened cock.

pornstar!nanami who always takes his time getting to the good stuff, his voice silken as he speaks to those watching him. praise falls from his lips, which are always just out of view—the man doesn't dare show his face. something about professionalism and all.

pornstar!nanami whose videos usually end with him cumming into his closed fist, or into a toy if he's feeling so inclined. as a long time viewer of him, you've come to learn a few things about how he orgasms—he always bucks his hips up, chasing that instinct to breed. he always moans like he's in heat just before his climax, but because he's not great with breathing through his orgasms he chokes up just as he falls over the edge—it's a pretty sound.

pornstar!nanami who sometimes gets messy with it—he's such an organised and ritualistic man in his day-to-day that he sometimes just wants to let loose. sometimes, he'll only pull his cock out of his pants through the fly, and let the world watch as his precum dribbles all over those pressed pants of his. oh and does he go feral knowing that he's dirtying something so expensive with the receipts of his lust. who will stroke himself to completion just to watch his cum stain the fabric he's worked so hard to afford—there's no explaining that away to a drycleaner.

pornstar!nanami who likes to imagine it's a pretty thing riding his thigh that wrecks his trousers. wonders how many of his viewers touch themselves to his videos, hoping the could take him for all he's worth as well.

pornstar!nanami who, after a particularly messy session one day, gets an email after uploading his video. it's not even been ten minutes, which was the length of his video, so he assumes whoever has emailed him came particularly fast to that one.

pornstar!nanami who was more than right in his assumption. because as his eyes rake over the email sent by an adoring fan, he sees about a million different typos that indicate nothing other than messy fingers and a fucked-dumb typist. in your barely legible email, you explain that Mr. Nanamis videos are tagged 'near-you', and you'd happily offer your services as the next sex toy he uses to fuck-and-film in exchange for an orgasm or three.

and oh is pornstar!nanami intrigued. because his life is a busy one, he's a businessman when the sun is up time is precious and human connection is a scheduling conflict—his videos aren't solo out of preference, poor nanami, the pornstar, is a virgin.

pornstar!nanami who, after a few weeks of back and forth and some genuine conversation, ends up with his camera flashing red as you sit naked on his lap. and oh are you happy with the sight of him, blonde and sculpted to perfection underneath those lovely suits of his. Your ass is on display to anyone watching, upper half out of shot as your teeth clash with his.

pornstar!nanami who can't help the sounds he makes when you grind against his clothed cock. your slick, your pooling lust, it smears over the fabric of his pants and leaves a gloss behind in turn. he's ravenous, holding onto your hips and grinding you down against him in all the right ways. who moans into your mouth, already a little pussydrunk and he's barely had a taste of you.

pornstar!nanami who hopes he isn't unseemly in the way he manhandles you to sit properly on his lap. he knows you're as desperate as he is, what with the way you slip your hands down to undo his belt and pull his cock free. your fingers wrapped around his length is enough of a narcotic to cum on the spot, though he steadies his reeling mind and holds out.

pornstar!nanami who offers to fuck you on his fingers first, to use his tongue to warm you up and get you ready for his, frankly overbearing, size. but you're insistent, eager, and lowering yourself onto his aching cock with a kiss to his lips and a sharp inhale shared between you.

pornstar!nanami who thanks whatever god may be out there for letting him film a glimpse of heaven.

pornstar!nanami who can barely keep himself together as you ride him like he's the toy at hand. he's sure he's never been this vocal for his viewers, moaning alone is a feat that is hot at best and hauntingly awkward at worst—this, though—he's never been so mindless. and you love it. all the videos you've watched where his voice is smooth and confident and he's the picture of put-together. having such a man, a gentleman like nanami, absolutely melting with each clench of your dripping pussy around his length? it's an aphrodisiac in itself.

and when you catch onto the fact that pornstar!nanami is about to cum—the bucking of his hips, those drawling moans, the hitch of his breath—you kiss him stupid, and then speak against his pretty swollen lips. 'breathe'

and oh does pornstar!nanami breathe. a desperate droning moan escapes his breath, right into your mouth as he empties himself inside of you like he's trying to give you his last name.

pornstar!nanami who can't help himself. flipping you over and onto your back, pressing you into the mattress as he continues to fuck into you. he's going to pull as many orgasms out of you as he can—it doesn't even register in his mind that, due to the new angle of your bodies, he's just let the world see his face, and the pretty pussy drunk blush that paints it pink.

[yemmuis]

a soul he refused to curse

[yemmuis]

hello selly my darling!! 🤍🤍 how are you? i hope fall is going well for you, its basically over and its rainy season here for me :((

i just started posting my writing actually actually odhsksjdk i luv it but i seriously am so so jumpscared by the sudden burst in followers. mostly because im used to tiktok, where everything is algorithmed. but on tumblr, i post like five mediocre drabbles and i have like 200+ followers all of the sudden!!! i started writing a special for 200 and im already almost at THREE HUNDRED and i CANNOT keep up!

on the actual reason for my visit (curious emmy question!!!), what do you think about nanami? how does he like to spend his time when he isnt working? what do you think his love language is? what kind of date would he take his partner on?

anyways, hi, hello, i love you and i hope you have a lovely holiday season selbel 🤍🤍

emu hello!! i'm doing great 🥹 i hope you're keeping dry and doing things that make you happy!! rain can really dampen the mood sometimes (no pun intended).

and OMGGG!! CONGRATULATIONS ON POSTING YOUR WRITING AND FOR HITTING ALL THOSE MILESTONES!! 🥺🥺 you deserve all the support you're getting 🥺 i hope you aren't too pressured!! and just take writing at your own pace 💗

and nanami! omg i think he's just a peaceful guy at heart lmao doesn't like too much noise, appreciates art, that kinda thing. i always hc that he likes breadmaking (it's stress relieving)! tho i see others saying that he likes to read too. i think he gets into making coffee for a while (also stress relieving). and probs has a cat or smth ngl.

as for love language, acts of service i think! and maybe quality time. words of affirmation somewhere next. i honestly think he'd prefer romantic dinners at home 🥺 i feel like he appreciates spending the quality time cooking! i think he'd be an attentive lover but wouldn't be too fussy!! (i also don't think he can handle a high maintenance relationship haha)

hoping your holidays are cozy emu!! 💗

[yemmuis]

18+ mdni; fem!reader

half-asleep toji eating you out first thing in the morning. you're still waking up too, the sensation of him pressing open-mouthed kisses to your bare cunt enough to make you stir. carefully, he wraps his arms around your thighs and digs his fingers into your plush flesh as he gets comfortable between your legs.

sunshine peeks from behind the curtain and paints you in its warm, golden light and toji can't tear his eyes from you; he takes you in as if it's his first time seeing you – the curve of your lips and the apples of your cheeks, the nose he so loves to bite at and the scars and the blemishes, the freckles that adorn your skin. your brows furrow as a meek sigh spills from your tongue and the sight of your body reacting to everything he does even when you're unconscious has his heartbeat growing a little faster.

peck after peck, he presses his scarred lips against your folds and your clit, slowly but surely working his magic on you. he rolls his own hips into the mattress to relieve himself and smears his pre-cum all over the sheet below him. but the mess is the last thing on his mind; your back arches off the bed and your hand finds its way to his hair, fingers tugging at the dark roots as pleasure builds inside you.

he's gentler than ever, softer than ever, and it's a moment you'll never forget because when you finally crack open your eyes and take a peek at the man between your thighs, you're met with the fondest gaze. you drown in pure and utter adoration and sink deeper into the mattress as he devours you, the only thoughts in your head being just him, him, him.

with his eyes glued to yours, he guides you to and through your high with his tongue. toji drinks up every single moan you grant him like he's dying of thirst, and every twitch of your body and every tug of his hair act as his very own rewards for being good for you.

it's only when you're pushing his head away with a whine that he relents. his face is still a bit puffy, remnants of sleep still evident in the few faint lines that run across his cheeks but the slanted grin he sends you when he wipes your slick from his mouth is far from drowsy. but it's not hungry either – it's something else entirely, something more akin to a smile belonging to a happy, happy man.

it's the kind he always gives you before pinching your sides while forcing out bursts of laughter from your poor lungs. it's the kind he always gives you after you call him 'baby'. it's the kind he always wears whenever he just gets to be with you.

[yemmuis]

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄. 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄.

—cw: 9to5 corporate worker toji x fem!reader. have fun.

toji working a 9 to 5 office job was the most unnatural thing ever. corporate life wasn't meant for him. he was a guy who sold his body for money and then gambled them away. i wouldn't say it was an easy life for him but it wasn't as stressful as a proper job.

he wasn't social so getting along with the team was hard. it took a lot on him to keep his temper in check and not just pull out a fucking gun when his boss yelled at him. but he had to survive this. why? because he promised you that he will become the kind of man you deserve. even though you reassured him you love him as he is, he knew you deserved better. a put together gentleman who has a good reputation in society and not just some bum.

"baby, i am home," he announces but surprisingly you don't answer. panic settles in for a moment in his heart. yeah he is on a journey to be a respectful man but that doesn't wipe out the shit he did and the kind of people he was involved with.

"baby, you in there?" he walks to the bedroom and still no sign of you. until he turns and sees your lower body tucked messily under a sheet on the beanbag in the balcony area. you were sleeping so soundly. not even a thunder could wake you up.

"i am home, doll." you shrug in sleep, displeased to wake up from the dreams you were having. toji smiles.

"cruel. wrapping this flimsy blanket around when you know you sleep safely in my arms." his fingers start playing with your baby hairs, twirling them as each word leaves his lips. "look what you have done to me, doll. never thought i'd attend a meeting that doesn't involve killing someone. but here i am now. all because of you." you smile in your sleep, almost as if you could hear him.

"hm. you know? outta everything that has happened to me, i regretted all of it. because it hurt me. killed me inside. but then...you came in. and that's when i knew it was all worth it." his thumb has now moved to your cheeks, gently stroking them. "i don't know what life has in store for me, but i'll go through all that pain again if it means i get to keep you." he doesn't realize he has started crying until a teardrop kisses his forearm.

"i love you so much. please stay forever." you hum and pull him on top of you what you think is your plushie that you cuddle. toji chuckles.

"silly girl. my silly girl."

[yemmuis]

just the tip? - choso kamo; no nut november "i don't think i can do this," choso mumbles, burying his face into your neck and ignoring the movie in the background. "jus' the tip. please, baby, lemme have this," he whines, grabbing a handful of your hip and squeezing. "cho, pay attention to the movie." you murmur back, tugging on a strand of his hair, and he only shakes his head and fumbles for the remote. "no, baby, i can't do this challenge, its hard..." his cock is already painfully hard and swollen in his pants as he palms your thighs, pouting. "need t'have you...please..." and chosos drowsy eyes meet yours, and he looks so needy, that you cant tell him no. his fingers pull your panties to the side just enough, and he cant stop himself from hastily shoving down his sweatpants and he whimpers when he gets to slide his tip against your sopping cunt. hes kissing you, messy and wet and grabbing at your flesh as best he can while he pants against your mouth. he cant wait, he said just the tip, but- his hips stutter forward, sinking into you another inch and making him babble mindlessly against your lips. "oh- please, so good, she's suckin' me in-" he drawls, tears gathering on his eyelashes as he whimpers against your chest. his swollen, blushing tip is kissing against your walls, weak, delirious cants of his hips pushing just a little further into you and making him groan against your neck. choso was so sure he'd survive no-nut-november. when you first told him about it, he thought it would be easy. "she's so loud f'me, baby," hes breathing into your skin, fevered pants and open-mouthed, sticky kisses to your neck. it wasnt easy. he made it a week, but now, he barely thinks he can last a minute with your pretty little cunt sucking him in. he doesn't even realize hes crying and hiccupping through his moans. his vision is white with stars while hes twitching inside you, finally bottoming out inside you and almost immediately losing himself in a nauseating climax that makes him swear he'll pass out. but he doesnt, his eyes lidded and his breath ragged as he rolls his hips into yours again and again, his cock hilted snugly inside your cunt while he tries not to crush you under his weight. the whole time, hes whining into your shirt, babbling about how pretty you look, how good your sopping walls are sucking him in and taking his whole load as he presses his face into your chest.

when he gets ahold of himself, hes kissing you all over your face, smiling deliriously and making sure you cum just as good as he did with his rough thumb to your clit and slow, tantalizing rolls of his hips into yours.

he probably wont be doing no-nut-november next year.

[yemmuis]

𝐀 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐎𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚.

Finale of First Love / Late Spring.

summary: “Where the world was empty, save you and I. Where you came, and I laughed, and you left, and I cried.” //

-

The aftermath of it all. Gathering the necessary things and making sure what is done is said and buried.

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cw: angst/no comfort, death, smoking, grief, swearing, no use of y/n + apologies if I missed anything.

a/n: Thank you all for reading this story and being patient with me. Also on Ao3.

wc: ~3.5k

🏷️: @jeanboyjean, @tacobellfreshavocado, @r0ckst4rjk, @hursheys

There is a soft and steady knocking at the door but he will not welcome the call. Not right now.

“Satoru.”

Satoru’s eyes are downcast, blinking slowly, he hears Shoko calling for his attention, but he doesn’t acknowledge her.

His bones feel heavy. The blood which courses through him, keeping him alive feels intense and he wants it to stop. Fatigue from how painfully conscious he is that his body keeps going slows down his hands.

The smell of cigarettes- sweet, menthol, dances over the mahogany desk, assaulting his senses. Satoru’s nose involuntarily twinges. It’s dark outside now.

There’s a stillness in the air periodically broken by the whining wind. They had lucked out the last couple of years with the snow. But now it seems to have caged him in. Not that it matters. He didn’t want to do anything anyway.

“Satoru,” She says a little firmer this time.

Clacking heels and the squeaks of a newly purchased leather chair signified Shoko’s position in front of Satoru. Thankfully, his blindfold sat firmly across his eyes, covering the redness and the weight of his exhaustion.

“I finished the paperwork.”

“Thank you, Shoko,” he says. “I trust you did your best.”

“Considering I’m down one less reverse cursed technique user,” She lets out a heavy sigh before saying, “Yes.”

Satoru continues his work. Letting his long and exhausted hands rummage through the envelopes, setting some aside. He’s more careful with this batch since his last stack marked his fingertips with cherry-red blood.

“Well, if that’s all, you can go. I’m sure there’s something you need to get to. Don’t let me keep you from cutting your night shift early.”

Shoko sits on the edge of the chair, one leg crossed over the other- slouching. Her elbows perched on her knees. She ponders for a moment before continuing.

“I don’t have any plans worth cutting my hours for anyways,” She says. “Plus, Utahime and I are going out tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. The same place we all used to hang out in after class.”

Satoru takes off his blindfold and rubs his face, then puts the wrap on his desk. He pushes the palms of his hands under his eyebrows so hard that it might impair his six eyes before resuming the task at hand.

He had never been good at sleeping a healthy amount, why would he? Infinity kept his mind refreshed, and provided him protection.

But the bags under his eyes are darker than usual and the only person he has ever loved is locked inside some cold, sterile bunker- reeking of formaldehyde.

Probably next to the asshole who took her kindness for granted, probably scared.

Can the dead be scared? The thought makes his skin crawl.

Shoko rummages through the front pocket of her white lab coat; briefly giving Satoru a pained look that goes unnoticed. Instead he is hyper focused and hunched over the desk repetitively writing something and scratching it out.

A couple of clicks of a lighter, and the smell of smoke lingers once again. “God, it’s freezing in here.”

“I run warm.” He says coolly. Without looking up he pushes an ashtray across the desk.

“I appreciate you feeling comfortable enough to smoke inside my office, and I admire how you don’t care what Yaga has to say. However, my son does like to hang around here. Especially now.”

She continues dragging the cigarette and taps the ash into the ceramic tray. It’s hard to decipher, but Shoko can make out your initials engraved at the side.

Her lips are pursed, and she exhales the smoke away from Satoru’s face. It’s a nice attempt, but the wind billows through the cracks of the wooden window frame, and it hits Satoru square in the face. He dismissively waves it off and coughs ever so slightly.

“Nice going,” he says, attempting to sound playful, but his tone is annoyed. She notices and clicks her lips.

With another pull of the cigarette to finish it off, Shoko inhales deeper than the last before walking over to where the window is already jammed open.

“Are you gonna fix this soon?” she asks, fiddling with the broken lock. When she exhaled the smoke escapes her lips getting lost with the condensation and December air. The cigarette snuffed on the widow sill.

“Eventually.”

Shoko hums and leans against the old window. She shoves both hands in her pocket.

“The obituary was nice by the way. I could tell you were holding back.”

“Thank you.” Satoru replies. He absentmindedly plays with his wedding band before continuing, “Megumi stepped in and gave me some feedback.”

“He’s a smart kid.”

“Plenty of potential.”

“You two raised him well. All of them.”

They sit in the heavy silence for awhile. The emptiness, the void left behind in your absence is palpable. Shoko watches Satoru as he places your letters into thick Manila envelopes. You had held onto every single letter you wrote to Suguru. It sat tucked away in a old pale green caboodle, adorned with stickers.

He feigned ignorance, letting you sneak around hoarding them close to your chest. Eventually, you stopped writing them. That must have been, what, 2013? Occassionally, you would jot down things here and there, but nothing like the ones after Suguru defected.

He was happy you stopped writing them. It felt wrong, even selfish but he could finally have you all to himself.

However, happiness is an emotion not a state of being.

At some point in the last couple of years, you’d finally shown Satoru some of things you’d written. Out of guilt perhaps? He asked himself or was it another way to let him inside your mind?

If it was to surprise Satoru or make him hate you in anyway for holding onto Suguru so firmly, than you gravely miscalculated how much Satoru loved you.

Truthfully you could do whatever you wanted to him and Satoru would never complain.

“What are you doing?” Shoko asks, and walks over to him with her arms crossed.

“Oh, you know, these letters were dropped off in front of my office,” he gestures to a thick pile of yellow envelopes. Some of the dates have been worn down. It’s hard to tell when they were written, but Satoru and Shoko could recognize that handwriting anywhere, “I’m sure you could imagine who they’re from and who they’re addressed to.”

Shoko doesn’t speak and lets him keep talking.

“It’s kind of hard to tell when they were written but you know me I’m very sharp,” he taps his temple to emphasize his point, “So I decided to take them and sort of file them with the ones that she wrote from the dates I could read.”

“Jesus-”

“Hey! You try honouring the dead’s wishes…”

“Are you even sure she wanted them done in the first place?”

He doesn’t respond but if someone were to look really closely they would notice how his mouth twitched- briefly but deeply. His silence encourages Shoko to keep going.

“What’s this pile?” She reaches over to a loose collection of envelopes, thumbing through them. The dates are completely worn down but it’s still evident who wrote which. Satoru lets out a sigh and shakily raises a hand, silently asking her to stop.

“Those are for me- from what I can tell at least. And maybe they aren’t but I’m leaving them out here.”

Shoko's eyes flicker towards his pleading hand, but she continues looking at the letters as if trying to decipher what is said in them.

“Didn’t she write more letters?” Shoko thumbs through the manila envelopes as Satoru shakes his head in disapproval. He continues to arrange the already neat piles. “You mentioned something about how she wrote this whole thing before-”

“I think it would be better for their story to end on a good note, at least on her end.”

“But you’re keeping all of the ones Geto wrote right before the attacks on Shinjuku and Kyoto?” She asks, and Satoru doesn’t respond. “Well, if that’s what you want to do, by all means.”

She places the envelopes back in their respective piles, and before leaving, she asses Satoru’s office. There are family photos throughout the years- peppered around every free space, as well as a concrete hand mould that you and Satoru made during an impromptu vacation to Okinawa for your first anniversary.

The statue was incredibly detailed; one could make out every single vein and hair on your hands. Tucked behind a bookshelf were notches and sharpie marks dating your son, Megumi and Tsumiki’s growth throughout the years.

“When we were students you weren’t very sentimental. Actually, you always kind of annoyed me.”

On the same bookshelf, there was a collection of Digimon cards that you and Satoru had collected over the years, alongside notes you had written for him. Satoru finally stops his work and leans back on the chair.

“Rude,” He says, feigning offence, “But yeah, I didn’t care about a lot of things back then.”

“Unless it had something to do with her.” Shoko picks up a sun bleached photo placed proudly on the shelf.

For a brief moment her mouth twists into a smile. She vividly remembered when it was taken. Shoko was excited about her new digital camera and brought it to yours and Satoru’s house warming party. Scribbled in your handwriting on the back in white sharpie says:

My new happy place!!! <3 - April 2015.

“That’s still my favourite picture that someone has ever been taken of us.”

It was a candid photo of you and Satoru. He was whispering something in your ear and you were laughing. His hand that was wrapped around your waist had a hair tie. Satoru always kept one incase you needed it. The two of you illuminated underneath by the warm orange light. Shoko had taken it through the alcove from the kitchen looking into the dining room.

A frame within a frame.

In the foreground two dirty tea cups with a lip gloss staining the rim of one. Partygoers disappearing into the background framing what you and Satoru thought was a secret moment. Every time he looked at that picture (which was often), he felt his chest swell up with excitement and if Satoru really tried he could still remember the smell of your perfume.

“Considering your wedding photographer shot editorial photos for Vogue as a side job, I take that as an honour.”

“You should.”

They look at each other, smiling for a moment. However, Shoko knows that the lightness between them is fleeting and fake. She pulls out her phone to check the time and it flashes with several texts from her girlfriend.

“Is Utahime being annoying again?”

“More like being attentive.” She pockets her phone and makes her way to the door.

Satoru watches her movements and notices that her face softens at the sight of Utahime’s name on her phone. He is both happy and sad as Satoru sees tidbits of your early relationship in theirs. There’s a heaviness in his chest as his mind continues to wander.

“I’m not going to pretend like I understand what you’re doing or why you’re putting yourself through this letter ordeal because, in my opinion, this is quite a sadistic way to cope. She and I worked together every day, you know? Every time she had the chance, she would talk about you. And-” She hesitates over the door handle, “She really loved you. Both of you. She wouldn’t have fought as hard as she did to stay alive if she didn’t love you, Satoru. I hope you know that or got to read that in those letters of hers.”

With a soft thud of the heavy door, Shoko takes her leave.

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For the most part, the commute home was quiet. Roaring winds weaving through the city skyline and the shuffling crowds rushing to get home resonate in the air.

Usually, he moved with a little more urgency, desperate to be away from paperwork and the demands of higher-ups and ultimately inexplicably drawn to the comfort of your presence.

But that’s not possible. It isn’t even an option.

Passerby conversations seem to pull him in a downward spiral. Someone is talking about how their cat can’t eat wet food anymore; another person is making excuses for their shitty boyfriend cheating on them, and a group of people are laughing about some obscure variety show going viral.

Although the chatters around him are mundane, he finds himself increasingly irritated.

“How can the world keep spinning?”

He just barely makes it to the train.

“Why would she leave me?”

An announcement says there will be a delay, so he takes an empty seat while he can.

“I was there, wasn’t I? I was always there.”

It’s only a three-minute delay. The train continues marching on. Underground lights whirring by him create an almost hypnotic scene.

“Every day that passes is another day where she isn’t here.”

The conductor announces his stop. Satoru squeezes by a group of salarymen and heads towards the stairs.

“I have to live without her.”

He takes the first step and the second until he’s outside again. Satoru taps through his phone to call a cab to take him home. His hand is about to confirm the car before he decides to walk the twenty minutes to your house. Not long before he’s punching in the code to unlock the door.

“I have to live for her.”

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Satoru can't bring himself into your room, so he sits in the kitchen with his head in his hands. Finally, alone, he cries. It's a silent cry, but it doesn't hurt any less.

Until it does, and he's choking, tugging and pulling at his hair. So hard like he wants to rip out his brain so he can stop thinking for once in his fucking life. He is so lost in his emotions that he doesn't notice someone standing in front of him.

“Gojo-sensei,” a voice calls out to him, youthful but firm.

He stands up alert and Satoru scrambles to make himself presentable, planing away the tears on his cheeks.

“Megumi! I thought you were sleeping,” he says moving towards the cabinet to get a glass of water. The only clean cup is your favourite. He hesitates for a moment to use it before ultimately resigning.

“I was until your crying woke me up. These walls are thin.” He stands underneath the archway, scratching his head and rubbing some sleep away from his eyes.

“Oh,” Satoru’s voice falls. He fills up your cup with water and takes a sip. His erratic breathing slowing down as he sheppishly looks away from Megumi before continuing.

“I’ll keep it down. You know, this paperwork is so annoying! It makes me sob because it’s such a drag-”

“I miss her too.”

Megumi’s face, which usually only expresses disinterest or annoyance, at least around Satoru, has taken a new form. His eyes are puffy and a little red, and his nose spots the same twinge of red.

They both remain still. The flickering hallway lights are the only things that seem to be moving in this gruesome painting that they’re living in.

“Well, we’re going to finish the preparations for the burial soon,” Satoru says, the exhaustion seeping out of his words as he rubs his eyes.

“The same thing that we talked about?”

Satoru nods and rubs the back of his neck- scratching at his undercut.

He’s always wanted to keep his hair long, ‘Makes me feel younger,’ he said to her one day.

She scanned his face searching for something more before reaching up to play with the hair close to the nape of his neck. He still remembers fondly her touch, her smell, her voice.

‘What’s wrong with getting old?’ she asked.

It was such a simple question but something that rang through his mind. He couldn’t remember what he said after—something funny, probably. Most likely. She rolled her eyes and laughed, and it made his heart swell.

‘Well maybe you should trim it a little, it’s getting hotter now and I don’t want to see you get heat exhaustion.’

Eventually, he shaved his undercut and kept it like that ever since. They were still friends when this happened. Suguru was standing off to the side, and she practically skipped away from Satoru to speak with him. He could hear Suguru imitating her voice for some story that made her laugh and hit him playfully.

Satoru watched.

“Okay,” Megumi falters his departure before speaking to Satoru, never looking at him when he does, “It’s not your fault. You know how she is-was.”

Megumi’s voice snaps him out of his memory, and Satoru watches the boy he raised standing tall but looking smaller under the door frame.

“I know,” he says softly. And he does know. Satoru hates and loves how much he knows her. Knew her.

Megumi mutters a good night and walks away. The soft thumping of his footsteps receding into the dark blue morning light, down the hall, past the bedroom where her tea is still sitting half-finished along with a book she just bought and into his room.

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Thankfully, the snow subsided enough to let your burial take place. It was where you always wanted. Underneath that lavender wisteria tree where your children could always come and visit. A bench near by so that whoever will visit her might have a place to rest before they make their inevitable departure. He hoped that when his time came, he’d be right there next to you.

When the funeral attendees left, Satoru stood tall, looking down at where you were buried and where the letters he filed the night before were buried. He crouched down to speak to your epitaph solemnly and softly as if you were listening intently.

“I’m sorry. I love you. I- I can’t wait to see you again.”

He never spoke this way with anyone. He hoped she knew that—maybe Suguru sometimes, definitely before he had to execute him.

Satoru’s head hung low as he rested a hand on the marble stone, expensive and only the best for his wife. His fingers traced the engraving of your name repeatedly while he wept alone and continued to reflect.

He knew that he could never replace Suguru. In fact, it would be a disservice to even attempt to. He understood that much from the moment Suguru defected and you started sulking.

Actually he knew that the moment you both met and kept declining his advances. At first, it was just playful teasing, nothing serious. Until it wasn’t just playful. There was truth laced in his jokes about how much he wanted to date you . But you never caught on, or at least didn’t want to acknowledge his feelings until after Suguru left.

Watching you refuse to leave even after Yaga gave the all clear that you could move about freely- it killed him. If he couldn’t get you to step outside of campus the least he could do was make the transition to leaving a little easier.

Buying sweets was a safe bet.

He tried his hardest to find things that you might like was the first attempt. Satoru scoured every spot in the city for the best ones, he didn’t have the time but he did have the money. But at the drop of a hat, he would make time.

Once you perked up a little, he moved into the next phase by asking Yaga to empty a small area for you to plant flowers. He hoped that it would draw you out and give you something to think about.

When Satoru finally confronted him on that busy street, all he could do was say how thoughtless Suguru was for leaving you. All the while, Suguru stood there with an unwavering disposition. It was infuriating watching him so casually throw away your utter devotion.

Even more so, Satoru knew you were waiting in his room, taking a nap in a sweater you borrowed from Suguru. When Satoru asked you where you got it, you pretended to sleep. You hadn’t even washed it once since Suguru left.

That’s probably how Suguru’s scent is so heavily engraved in Satoru’s consciousness, countless nights spent holding you; not that he would ever complain.

Questions of why Suguru did that were met with contempt and challenges to his philosophy from someone he once respected. Satoru clenched his fist so hard he bled when he and Suguru last spoke.

The instructions to execute him were clear, but Satoru couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when he could give you the slightest hope that Suguru might become good again.

Satoru never wanted to tell you the truth about what Suguru did when he left, but after a month, he realized that you were already well aware that Suguru would never return.

There was an unsaid notion that due to their Special Grade, no one could ever understand him or Suguru. But that was a farce.

You understood Suguru in ways that Satoru could never wrap his head around. Understood both of them- never asking either of them for more than just companionship.

Any normal man would eventually grow tired and even resentful if their wife insisted on writing a collection of letters to their past love.

But Satoru was the strongest, even if you insisted he didn’t have to be. He had to be. For you, your family, and the life he’d worked so hard to maintain. Now wasn’t the time to doubt himself on his shortcomings.

Not when your son kept crawling into what was once your shared bed, asking when you would come home. From what his six eyes could see, you only thought of him as a placeholder. But from how eloquently you spoke to laughing and adding onto his jokes- his heart and soul knew otherwise.

After all, you were his best friend.

His one and only.

a/n: Again, Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this. 2024 has been a incredibly difficult year for me but diving back into fandom culture has helped immensely. I appreciate all of the kind words and time people took to interact with the reader and Suguru’s and to be honest, Satoru’s story🤍. It gave me the motivation to finish this.

Huge shoutout to Mitski, Ethel Cain and Hozier for being the backdrop of me writing this fic. And thank you to all of my mutuals and irl friends for being so kind during this time. I kinda used this whole fic to ask some questions that’s been rattling around my brain.

Much love as always,

Moni

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© Please do not copy or replicate my work. Inspiration is appreciated, but credit properly! ♡

[yemmuis]

Imagine hating on me but i spend my free time maladaptive daydreaming about getting raw dogged by fictional men