Gojo Is The Type Of Guy Who Finds Comfort In Your Pussy. Imagine Him Coming Home From A Mission And Seeing

gojo is the type of guy who finds comfort in your pussy. imagine him coming home from a mission and seeing you laying on the bed with your phone in your hand. you're wearing tiny short that don't leave much to the imagination, not talking about the fact that the shorts are to the side so he can see your pussy. he flops on the bed, burying his face into your ass. you yelp pushing the ass up and he uses is as a chance to dive right into your pussy

"i can't believe you flaunt your pussy like this in front of everyone." he whines in between swipes of his tongue.

"there's no one here, satoru."

"leave me be, im tired." he mumbles against your skin. his tongue spots and you shake your head, your boyfriend fell asleep with his face still between your legs.

NOT YET — starring: f. reader x SUKUNA RYOMEN, who is a mob boss

When a guy in the club tries to assault you, you ask a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend. Little that you know that out of all people, you chose a mob boss.

cw: smut, mafia mob!au, briefly mentioned assault and tiny bit of violence, Sukuna (yeah, I consider him a warning), reader discretion is advised

note: the very second I heard this menace toying with Panda, Kusakabe and the rest in Shibuya, not allowing them to move unless he say so - my head went straight to the idea of him playing the same game in bed.

Sukuna never had to get used to being interrupted. Never. Anytime it happened in the past, all he had to do was to glance at the person and it usually got the message across. His gaze has enough power in it to quickly inform the intruder why invading his personal space or cutting him half-sentence is a damn bad idea. One look from him usually was enough to make anyone reconsider if they really want some problems. Sukuna had his eyes trained to be sharp and cold, his body strong and intimidating and his aura dangerous. He spent years building his reputation, earning a position in his world that now guaranteed him calm. Now everyone and their mothers know that he’s not the one to cross paths with. He’s a VIP, he’s allowed everywhere and he has no qualms about killing someone. Ryomen Sukuna is a brand, he’s a threat, he’s untouchable, invincible. No one in the right mind would ever try to start anything with him at this point. That’s why, when he tried to relax in one of many clubs that he owns in Tokyo, he couldn’t believe someone had the guts to push onto him at the bar.

“Hey, sorry, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second?”, he heard near his ear and following the sound and the soft tug on his elbow, he turned his head towards you. Lucky girl, he thought while quickly assessing the view. You were too god damn pretty to be killed, looking at him with those pleading eyes that glistened in the harsh artificial lights. You were visibly scared of something, or someone, and oddly enough it wasn’t him who brought you to the verge of tears.

“Your boyfriend, huh?”, he mused, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure. The dress you had on left little to imagination and yet he wished to tear it off to see more of you. It hugged the shapes of your body perfectly and the silky fabric betrayed the lack of bra underneath. You were attractive, but clearly not smart enough to think twice before approaching a stranger.

“Please, I beg you, this guy—“, you tried to explain, squeezing your perfectly manicured fingers around his veiny forearm, but your sentence was cut in half when a man grabbed you by the waist, pulling you away just a little and harshly pressing your back against the bar. Sukuna watched as you winced when your spine hit the edge of the wooden countertop, he watched for a moment how you tried to push the guy away. With no effect, you weren’t strong enough to stand against him, you were trapped between the unwanted body and the furniture behind you, fighting the hungry hands that were groping your figure.

“Naoya, get off of me—” you tried, pushing his face away from where he was trying to suck a spot onto your neck.

“Oh, shut up woman, I know you want it,” the blonde-ish idiot grinned, twisting your arm enough to make a space for himself. He wasn’t bothered in the least with the fact he was trying to get between your legs in the very center of a club. Sukuna’s club.

Ryomen zeroed the whisky in his glass and got up from the chair. Usually, he would ignore situations like this. Other people’s problems were none of his business and he had enough his own things to take care of, to bother himself with anything else, but you. You were a problem he was willing to explore.

“Zenin, huh?”, he asked, connecting the name he heard falling from your lips with the wannabe gangster he heard about many times before. There was a certain reputation tied to Naoya’s name, mostly regarding his treatment of women but as long as he wasn’t touching his women, Sukuna couldn’t care less about this trash of a man. You definitely were not his woman. Yet.

“The fuck you want, I’m busy,” Zenin groaned, pulling his nasty mouth away from your shoulder for just a moment, only to shot a glare to the club owner.

“I can tell that you’re busy,” Ryomen grabbed one of Naoya’s wrists. It wasn’t looking like a hard grip, but the face of the blonde betrayed the sharp, bone-breaking pain he felt.

You felt some kind of relief when the stranger you just met stepped between you and your unwanted date. The large body of him towered above you completely, he was bigger than you thought when you approached his sitting form, but you couldn’t think about it for too long when he dealt with Naoya so easily. Once the blonde was gone, he turned to you.

Your heart skipped few beats once you took the image in. The man was huge, way taller than you and built like a greek god. The sharp outlines of his muscled torso beautifully showed through the dark graphite dress shirt. Looking up, you could finally see his face clearly. His features were attractive, dangerous with the black tattooed lines around them. He could easily be a gangster or something.

“T-thank you,” you spoke finally, snapping out from the initial impression of him. He was a red flag, you knew that. If not for the circumstance, you’d probably be the first to run away from him. He was hot. An absolute smokeshow, but he was certainly bad news.

“Was he your date?”, he asked, pulling a chair that he was sitting on previously and twisting it to position, before his large hands landed on your hips. There was no effort whatsoever when he lifted you and sat you down on the seat. He opted to stand next to you.

“No… I came here with a friend, but she left earlier. I was just about to leave as well, but this guy stopped me,” you sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go, I was afraid that he’ll just walk after me to my home. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture in itself was soft, but you shivered underneath his touch nonetheless. You couldn’t quite tell what made him so… scary. Was it his overwhelming frame? Or maybe the calm, distant demeanor? He had authority, he was expecting submission and when he was looking at you, you felt like a prey of him. Strangely, you were quite fine with that. You had no wish of doing anything with Naoya, but this man… he was different, he was interesting, he made you cross your legs just to feel any kind of pressure between your thighs. “Your name?”

“Y/n,” you replied.

“Y/n. Nice,” he gave it a soft nod and ordered two drinks. “Ryomen is my name. Sukuna Ryomen. Memorize it.”

“Sure…”

At this moment, you had no guts to ask why was it important to imprint the name he told you into your brain, but it all became clear just barely two hours later. You couldn’t exactly recall the moment Sukuna led you out of the club and into his car. There was something so enticing about his entire aura that made you lose your ability to think. He made you break every rule you ever had for yourself – to not talk with strangers, not go with them anywhere. Before that night you were doing exceptionally good in avoiding danger, you somehow slipped through your life up until that point without any major problems, but once you faced the problem, it was a big one.

The talk was good, it flowed easily and the menacing aura that Ryomen had all around him kept you interested. You had no idea that you’re attracted to bad boys, and maybe you were not exactly into school hooligans. Turned out, you’re aroused by the much worse kind – the kind that keeps a gun behind his belt, drinks pure whisky and makes people run away just by shooting them a glance. Yeah, that seems to be the kind of men you are into, because if there was any common sense left in you, you’d be out the door and running towards the safety of your dormitory. If there was any self-preservation instinct in you, you’d be probably anywhere else, rather than in here.

In the most luxurious house you’ve ever seen, not to mention been inside of; somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo where you were not even sure how you can get back to your home from there. If you were just a little smarter, you’d for sure be in your own bed right now and not on the dark leather couch, with your silky dress scrunched up around your waist and your underwear torn to pieces and laying on the floor. If you had more braincells, maybe you wouldn’t be bouncing on that stranger’s dick right now, gripping onto his muscular shoulders as one of his large hands kept your hip in a dead grip, leading your moves up and down his girthy length and the other one tightly squeezed around the back of your neck, from where he was keeping his head close so he could kiss you so hungrily it took your breath away. But that’s just where you were. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

He felt so goddamn good, filling your tight hole to the very brim, stretching you to the point of delirium and he wasn’t even fully in yet. His moves were aggressive and yet sensual; he made you feel small even if it was you who was on top of him. You had no control, he made it clear with the way he was holding you and every time you tried to dominate him in any way, he quickly showed you your place back. Maybe later, he’ll let you have your way with him, but now, he was in charge.

“Think you can take all of me?” He asked against the delicate skin of your neck, now painted in red and purple marks he nibbed onto it. You could feel him grinning at the way you squeezed your little hands on his clothed biceps. He got you all exposed and yet he only allowed you to free his dick; his shirt was still buttoned up, his pants were still on his legs. There was a certain dominance shown in the way he got you all naked on top of his suit.

“N-no,” you breathed out, “too big.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Sukuna doesn’t exactly accept no as an answer and he for sure gave you enough time to accommodate to his size. “You’ll take it and thank me for it, yeah?”

“Yes,” was all you could mumble, before both of his large hands landed on your hips. The iron grip, you were sure, was going to bruise you but now, it felt grounding in a way.

“Good girl,” he praised, his purr vibrated against your skin as he sucked yet another mark along your collarbone. It distracted you for a moment before he pushed your pelvis even lower, fully bottoming into you. Your clit made a contact with his lower belly, the harsh brush of his skin against the swollen bud making you moan louder than you were meaning to. You felt like all of your organs were moved out of the way just to make more space for his dick and Sukuna couldn’t be more satisfied by the way you took him in. “See? As if you were made to take this cock.”

Something incoherent left your mouth, a tear stained your cheek and the man was happy to lick it away, tasting the saltiness before he bucked his hips up, keeping yours in place. He took full control, thrusting into you with all the power he had in his muscular body and you held onto his shoulders with your little hands. The filthy, wet sounds were filling the interiors, bouncing off the walls and mixing with all of the whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips. Some grunts added to the melody, but you barely heard any of it, too consumed by the exploding pleasure between your legs.

Sukuna’s name was leaving your mouth like a prayer, you felt so close, you felt like falling and you had no intention to stop. The man grinned, licking a long stroke along your throat, his tongue curling upwards as it reached the tip of your chin. The taste of your skin felt intoxicating to him, he wanted to devour you whole, to keep all for himself.

“You wanna cum, huh?” His voice was taunting. “You’re clenching around me so fucking hard, you’re gonna milk me as well.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you near damn begged, chasing the bliss that you could almost taste on your tongue right now. It filled all of your body cells, rushed through your veins in ecstatic waves of lust.

“Not yet,” he ordered and it felt almost painful to force yourself back from the state of climax. You could tell he was playing with you, toying with his dominance, reminding you that it’s him who pulls the strings in here. And yet, he was still rutting into you, his movements completely different to what he was saying, he was fucking you like he wanted you to cum in that very moment. “Still not yet,” he teased, feeling your little fingers digging onto his shoulders, your manicured nails nearly making holes in his shirt as your eyes fell shut.

“Oh god, Ryomen, please,” you whined. Your thighs were shaking, your spine arching and the incredible tension below your stomach threatened to burst any second now.

“Now,” he ordered and just like that, all inside of you snapped. You came all over his dick, and you came hard. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like you were suddenly shot into another dimension and if not for the way he sped up his movements, you’d probably just get lost in the lustful feeling. Ryomen came just few moments after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and painting your walls white. You felt him throbbing, spasming inside of you, the hot seed gushed out of you as he was pumping it in, staining your thighs and the bottom of his black shirt. Then he pushed you down, fully onto his cock, plugging the way out for his cum.

You found his lips, swallowing his quickened breath as you kissed him with desire and he gave in, quickly dominating the kiss. You were tired, the muscles in your legs were burning from the intense exercise, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of still wanting more. He made you hungry, he made you unsatiated and you were sure, you won’t be able to recognize yourself after you’re done with him. You were never such a greedy lover but frankly, you never had a chance to feel that good with anyone. The boys you’ve been with had no skills and if not for the orgasms you gave yourself with your fingers, no one else ever brought you over the edge like Sukuna.

“Can you undress?” You asked him, your lips brushing against his as you mouthed the question and he chased your kiss with his head, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. There was a certain expression painted all over his dangerously handsome features, the menacing aura amplified as he took his sweet time before replying.

“I can undress,” he began, yet there was a but hanging in the air. He had conditions and you were open to hear them. “I’ll give you two options, little kitten. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t undress. You can pull yourself together and I can drive you back to your home now. But I can also take the suit off, carry you to my bed. Then you’ll stay with me till morning, but don’t have any hopes for a calm sleep, no. The night will be as filthy as it can get. You’ll be sore tomorrow, most likely exhausted.”

You blinked hearing the options. It was clear as day, stop there or continue? You knew the answer already, your body decided for you even before he came up with an offer.

“Will you drive me home as well if I pick the second option?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s get you naked.”

‘toji doesn’t know how to properly give aftercare — nor did he care to do so before. but, meeting you changed his ways of thinking.’

☀︎｜toji fushiguro x female reader. suggestive; fluff, comfort, angst. established relationship. hint of an age gap between toji and reader. mention of virgin!reader. mention of toji’s previous / past wife. grumpy sad dilf toji who learns how to love again t_t. reader gets called ‘doll, little girl’. self indulgent? yessir.

toji grunts and his exhausted body collapses to the side, careful not to crush you underneath his burly figure. he drapes one arm over his eyes with the other resting near his side. his eyelids felt heavy — clearly needing some rest after hours of continuous bodily satisfaction.

he had gone a bit overboard this once. even toji himself was feeling the aftermath since his muscles were aching and his brain was telling him to go to sleep. the assassin was about to, however his ears picked up on a little muffled whimper sounding from beside him.

“mmph,” you sniff. your face was still buried in the pillow below you — your tears and drool staining the material. your limbs were trembling and you were completely and utterly spent. you couldn’t even turn around to lay on your back; it was all just too much.

toji watches you with an unchanging expression for a second. normally for him this would be the part where he’d get the money, dress himself back up and leave through the front door with a small ‘thanks for your time’ comment.

but, that was his past. that was after the death of his wife and before he had met you — that was a dark time where he sought money in any kind of way to ease the hidden guilt and pain in his body. he’d sleep with women for a pay check. and maybe also to simply forget about his miserable life.

toji thought that he wouldn’t ever love himself nor another person again after his life went downhill. though, that thought was proven wrong by you.

you were a girl whom he had met on numerous occasions by accident to the point you decided to exchange phone numbers. you had also eventually started to help toji with his son - megumi - during tough times.

a sweet young woman: that’s what you were and still are in his eyes. maybe you were the change toji needed. the miracle to heal from his past and get himself together.

“hey,” the dark-haired man speaks up in a gruff tone after taking in your weak state. he felt a faint twinge of guilt deep within him since he was the reason you ended up like that. perhaps he took it too far.

you looked up at toji through half-closed and watery eyes. all you could do was tiredly hum in response, “mhm?”

silence follows. it’s not really awkward, but there was a barely noticeable sense of insecurity radiating from the assassin. for the first time in a good while.

toji’s eyes dart around the room in hopes of finding or seeing something that would remind him of what to do in such a situation. aftercare; he knew how important that is after sex, but had forgotten how to properly execute it. he hadn’t done so in a good few years.

that could also be an excuse. maybe he was simply afraid to show any kind of affection to someone again. maybe.

despite all of it — despite all those complex thoughts and feelings — his body moved on its own command. toji shifted closer to your side, rough hand slowly reaching out to give you some head pats. that’s the best he could do for now.

“heh.” you chuckle, yet felt extremely happy that toji had shown any type of affection toward you in such a vulnerable moment. his fingers massaging your scalp gently, over and over, was enough of a sign for you. a sign that he cares.

you knew all about his hard life; past and present. you accepted toji for who he was and what he has done and does. one of the only people who’d stay by his side throughout it all.

“thanks, toji.” the words that left your lips made the older man silently nod. his touch grew a bit more confident after your positive reaction. his hand traveled down to the nape of your neck and over to your shoulder, turning you around so you could lay comfortably on your back.

toji couldn’t help but let his eyes wander across your gorgeous skin. even if it was sweaty and covered in other bodily fluids, it still was one of the most beautiful sights he had seen in his entire life.

“you okay?” he asks to which you give a weary nod. she’s far from okay judging by the looks of it, toji thought to himself.

he hesitantly leans his head down to plant a quick kiss on your shoulder. that did feel a bit awkward, though it turned loving the more you positively reinforced him with your verbal reactions.

toji sighs as he tries his best to keep you as comfortable as possible around him. his hands grab you by your sides and he hoists you up onto his lap, gently pushing your head against his chest; “c’mere my little girl.”

you happily accept the affection toji gives you. it wasn’t often that he’d do this after sex and you understand why. it takes a lot to heal from his previous wounds and you were there to support him throughout that journey. the fact that he was trying was enough.

“you’re nice ‘n warm,” you murmur, eyes droopy as you snuggle against toji’s bare chest. the older man chuckles at your comment and his big hands come to rest on your back to hold you in place — to give you a sense of security.

you didn’t have any regrets about tonight nor about any other night spent in bed with him. toji was the only man whom you were content with showing your body to. he’d never judge nor hurt you in any way, unlike the other more immature men in your indirect environment.

plus, you remember how unexpectedly gentle the big and scary looking man was with you during your first time a few days back. he was the perfect man for you in your eyes—in his own way.

“y’r real pretty. like a doll.”

the sudden compliment forces you awake. you blink thrice, trying to make sense of what you had heard. was it your imagination? no, it definitely sounded like toji. that deep and now almost groggy voice.

you lift your head up and lock eyes with the assassin. he was looking right back at you whilst the pad of his thumb delicately wipes some drool off your right cheek. you quietly stared at him for a good while which makes toji raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“pfft.” you let out a short laugh. you were both embarrassed and amused at the loving words that the older man had told you out of the blue. it made you feel tingly all over in a good way.

“what? did i say somethin’ weird?” toji questions as his hands slowly roam all over your body like they usually would, squeezing and rubbing longer in some spots, “i jus’ said what i observed.”

there was no hiding that lopsided grin on toji’s lips. the soft sound of your laughter was enough to make his entire body relax and give in to the warmth of the moment and the love that radiates between you two. you really were meant to be with him.

“no, no.” you shake your head after giggling. your lips find a spot on his chest to place a kiss upon in response, “it was cute.”

toji huffs at being called cute. no one had ever called him that. it didn’t really hurt his pride or ego — you could call him anything you wanted to and he wouldn’t mind. his rough hand does however give you a light smack on the ass after that.

“y’re lucky i love you, doll.” he grumbles and nuzzles his nose into your hair. the words left his lips before his brain had processed them. it was probably said subconsciously since toji doesn’t realise that he uttered the three words. the three words he usually hesitates on saying now flowing off the tongue so naturally.

you weren’t going to ruin the moment by teasing him about it. you were just happy that toji didn’t think twice before telling you that he loved you this time. it was a huge step forward in your relationship.

you simply giggle some more before placing a kiss on his lips that he instantly reciprocates.

“i love you too, toji.”

seeing buff nanami for the first time vs seeing nanami for the last time

papa nanami and how he can't decide which fleece jacket he should buy for his little girl—

they’re tiny, the length of the fabric spanning his two palms and a half. he’s thinking hard on this one—tan or pink? tan or pink… tan or pink.

the store is closing soon; the only free time he had was after work, now, half an hour before dinner. he should hurry so he can go home already—to his little girl and you.

he sighs, holding the jackets up again. tan or pink...

hm.

he makes his choice.

.

when he arrives home, crouching low as his little girl comes crashing into him—the shopping bag falls to his side, hands holding her close. you peek from the kitchen, smile warm and in love.

kento always makes it in time for dinner, no matter what.

after tickles and giggles and a big munching on her cheek, your little girl pulls her papa by his pinky, dragging him over to you.

you always give him a kiss on the cheek.

“welcome home, my love.” you whisper by his ear, setting the last bowl of food down on the dining table.

you spot the shopping bag by the foyer, sneaking him a look, “did some early gift shopping?”

he follows your eyes, picking up your little girl as he sets her down on her seat.

“bought some fleece jackets for her, before it gets too cold.”

your lips curl up, knowing you chose the right man; his foresight, the way he looks after you both—it makes your heart swell as you walk to pick up the shopping bag.

when you pry it open, you’re met with fuzzy bundles of tan and pink. you snort, “couldn’t pick?”

he flushes, cheeks turning the same shade as the fabric in front of you—he points to his suit, “she said she wanted to match with me.”

your mouth forms an ‘ah’, still smiling, “and the pink?”

“i thought it’d look cute on her.”

he turns to your little girl, grip tight on her silicon utensils as she stabs around her food. she’s almost on her way to full sentences now and it shouldn’t make him this sentimental, but it does.

he wants her to stay this tiny forever.

his little girl.

“what do you think, baby?” you hold up the pink jacket beside you, speaking to your daughter.

she giggles, silicon fork in hand as her bib bounces; her eyes, the same brown as her papa’s but shaped like yours, sparkles, “pwitty! pwitty on!”

“papa always has good taste doesn’t he?” you look at your husband fondly.

your little girl babbles, giggling.

and nanami doesn’t know what he did to deserve this—your little family, but if he has to buy every fleece jacket in the world to keep you both warm and toasty, he will.

he’ll even make you all matchy.

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

@kentoangel @em1e @augustinewrites @crysugu @soumies @itadorey @mididoodles thought about u all while writing this 🥹

“i can’t believe i walked in on my wife and my best friends doing such an unspeakable act.”

you and the two boys hugging your sides look up, raising a brow at a pouting gojo leaning against the doorframe, “i doubt cuddling is considered unspeakable, satoru.”

“it is if you’re doing it without me.”

he plops down onto the bed, earning a screech from your toddler when he pushes him to the edge of the mattress.

“that’s not fair! i was here first.” your four year old grumbles, climbing back up as he tries to fight gojo for his spot, though he knows from experience now that there’s no cure for his dad’s dramatic antics.

“you are my seed, kid. i was here way before you.” gojo pulls you close as if to intimidate the toddler, ignoring the smack you give his chest while your kid stares at him confusedly. your husband redirects his attention to the baby chewing on your hair, gently swatting away his lips, “hands off for you too. don’t you know that finders keepers? i found her first so she’s all mine.”

your son, who is practically the miniature (and less annoying) version of his menace of a father, blows him a raspberry. you laugh when satoru gapes at him, acting betrayed but you see the amused tilt to his lips. “oh, you wanna go that way, big guy?”

he flips the baby over, pulling his shirt up and blowing raspberries into his tummy. high pitched giggles spill from your baby’s lips, alerting your elder son who rushes declaring that he’s going to rescue his brother and maul his dad.

you know you should probably ask him where he’s learnt such foul words but you already know the answer and its lying in the white haired man who is now getting attacked by both his beloved children.

and you grin, oblivious to the fact that said man is watching your eyes crinkle from the corner of his, hearing the wonderful harmony of your laughter and wishing nothing more than to see the same sight when he’s eighty.

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