Men Wholl Watch You Squirm As He Presses A Small Vibrator Against Your Swollen Clit. Go On, Baby. His

men who’ll watch you squirm as he presses a small vibrator against your swollen clit. “go on, baby.” his lustful gaze never left your starry doe-eyes as you stammered through each word. “t-touched.. th-en.” you tried so hard to read the tiny letters placed on each page, while feeling the pleasurable sensation pulse throughout your clit— sending warm waves towards your aching core.

“good girl, just one more page.” he hushed, adding more pressure to the vibrator as he bit back an amused grin. watching as your thighs began to quiver, while hearing small mewls escape your plush lips. “almost there.” he cooed, heightening the speed once again, watching as you fell apart. “c-cumming!” you softly moaned feeling the pleasure burst throughout your body.

“uh oh, that’s no good.” he frowned, pressing against your clit even more. “again.” the sternness within his voice had you reading from the beginning.

— getou, osamu, law, toji, kuroo, aizawa, zoro, gojo, and nanami

the coolest kids on the block

Geto Suguru ✩ S2E5

↳ anime vs. manga

bimbo assistant!reader x ceo!toji

17+ to interact pls nsfw aaa

authors note: this has been sitting in my drafts for like 3 weeks n i just finished it bc i was tired of looking at it LMAO but i hope u guys enjoy <;33

you walk into the office building wearing your too-tight black mini skirt that accentuates your curves n your baby pink blouse that barely provided coverage as your perky tits were practically spilling out of it. hair did all nice with fluffy pin curls that complemented your face. your pink heels clack against the floor as you approach toji's office room.

originally, you were meant to be toji's new assistant. doing daily tasks such as getting his morning coffee, scheduling his meetings, or sorting through files. but here you are, bent over on toji's desk, paperwork a jumbled mess, skirt hiked up, blouse pulled above your tits, and toji pounding into your sopping wet cunt mercilessly with his fat cock.

"f-fuck this tight little cunt was made f' me" toji groans as he continues to rut his hips against your ass "a-ah right there toj- ahh!" you whine as the tip of his cock continuously hits your sweet spot, fat balls smacking against your clit. toji's hand snakes around your waist to massage the tiny bundle of nerves and your gummy walls immediately clench around his cock. mouth immediately forming into a o shape as you let out a silent gasp. "g'nna cum ohmygosh toji please please please!" you beg as you feel your climax approaching, pussy pulsating around his fat veiny cock.

"ffuckkk baby, cream all over daddy's cock" toji whispers into your ear in a sultry tone and soon after your toes are curling and your cum is dripping down his dick. he continues to rub your overstimulated clit as you try to squirm out of his grasp "'s too much toji!!" you whine "'m not done yet doll" he smirks "'m just gettin' started."

AAAA YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD AAA I LOVE IT!!! Could you write some fluffy soft mushy stuff about cuddling gojo? he deserves to be held and loved and appreciated

alone with the moon

FEATURING. gojo satoru x f!reader — wc: 1.9k

CONTENTS: i accidentally added angst, but it's mostly cute! no spoilers, sfw!!! gojo comes home late from a mission!

You waited, pushing your ear against the phone as the line rang, once, twice, a third time.

When the voice of Satoru Gojo, leading you to his voicemail box, answered again, your confidence waned, concern only growing about his condition.

Your texts remained delivered, and a response bubble never once appeared, even though you willed it to. The last time you’d heard a word from him was this morning, when he was leaving for work, promising he’d be home before dinner. Satoru never went long without answering you, and the food sat cold on the table without a word.  

In a rush of panic, you’d reached out to Shoko, Nanami, anyone you could possibly think of that he might contact in a pinch. Though, none of them had heard from him in days, and you started to doubt that he’d ask for backup, even if he really needed it.

A terrible image rooted inside your chest. Satoru was strong, but he wasn’t immortal, and you knew that he could be lying somewhere, alone, dying. If that was the case, you’d be none the wiser.

You worried your lip, feeling like you were slowly losing a grip on sanity. If he’d just send you a simple heart in return, a space, anything to let you know that he was okay, you could release the tight grip that squeezed every ounce of oxygen from your lungs. Instead, you sat in silence, holding your phone like a lifelong, incapable of thinking of anyone but the man who hadn’t even told you where he was going.

Finally, the door opened. It shut. You held your breath until the sound of heavy, recognizable footsteps padded down the hall, and you were to your feet in a flash, rushing around the corner.

Gojo’s shoulders were slumped as he slowly pulled the blindfold over his head, soft white hair falling onto his forehead. Before he’d had the chance to say a word, you’d thrown yourself into him, your tight embrace crushing his arms to his hips.

He relaxed immediately, holding you just as closely. “I missed you too, honey.”

Although you usually melted at the sound of his voice, the casual tone that he dared to use, to insinuate that nothing was wrong, was enough to irritate you. You shoved him away, lips drawn into a thin line. “Where the hell were you?”

Gojo blinked back, frosty eyelashes falling over wide crystal eyes. Then, he was rummaging through his pocket with a cheeky smile, pulling out the phone that had cracked, splintered, rendered completely unusable. “Sorry. I would’ve called you if I could.”

You inhaled. Released a shaky breath and tried to calm your nerves before you said something you didn’t actually mean.

Gojo’s smile quickly turned into a frown. “I didn’t mean to make you wait. You should’ve gone to bed.”

Though he was trying to comfort you, the comment only served to upset you more. “You think I could have just gone to sleep? You should’ve told me where you were going. No one had any idea where you were and I couldn’t get a hold of you, and—”

You stilled, burying your face in your hands before Gojo had come up around you, his tall frame hovering over you, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety. His fingers ran along your spine, stopping softly at every bone before he continued to the next notch, thinking. “I don’t want you to worry. You don’t need to worry.”

“I always worry.” The words were plain, offered to him without any dressing, no way to cover them up into anything but exactly what they were. “That’s the cruel reality of being a sorcerer.” You swallowed, burying your face into his chest, even though he smelled of dirt and sweat and the sickening smell that lingered from cursed spirits. “You may be Satoru Gojo, but with everything that’s been going on, I can’t help but wonder if each time you leave will be the last time that I see you.”

Satoru was quiet, contemplative. He stopped tracing your skin, instead letting his large palm rest still on your hip. “I’m okay, baby. Really.”

Leaning back in his arms, you scanned him. A gash cut across his cheek and grime had splattered all over his uniform. “Are you?” you asked in a soft voice, wiping your thumb against the wound. “You’re bleeding, Satoru.” The color stained your finger, revealing the outline of your thumbprint that had smeared against his skin.

Gojo pulled your hand away, gently grasping your wrist, as if to redirect your attention, even though you could focus on nothing but the crimson stain. “It wasn’t from the curse. I let my guard down a moment. Some debris hit me in the face, that’s all.” He smiled, though you couldn’t be sure he was telling the truth, his voice hushed. “It’s just a scratch.”

It looked like more than just a scratch, the droplets deep red as they flowed down to his chin. “You’re exhausting yourself,” you said, swallowing the wave of emotion that threated to drag you down. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“I have to—”

“Even you have your limits.” With a sigh, you untangled yourself from his embrace, taking his hand to lead him to the bathroom. “This is reckless, Satoru. If they need your help so bad, they should understand you’re no used to them dead.”

His lips curled, but the smile lacked any of the usual charm. “I’ll be okay.”

“You always say that, but lately, I’ve been finding it hard to believe.” There were bandages in the medicine cabinet, ointment, and you rummaged them, thinking. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Satoru was quiet as you pushed him onto the countertop, his legs long enough to reach the floor completely. You stood between them, wiping a warm cloth over his cheekbone, scrubbing harder where the blood had already crusted over.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Satoru apologized again, his eyes soft under long lashes. “You know I would’ve called you if I could.”

“I know.” You swallowed, unable to hold his gaze for long. With shaky hands, you placed a ridiculously shaped bandage over his cheek, grateful that you could something, even something as small as this. “There,” you said in a tender voice, hating the way your lips quivered around the syllable. “All done.”

Satoru smiled and leaned forward, wrapping two strong arms around your shoulders. “Thank you. I didn’t realize I had my own little nurse.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him on the cheek, right over the scratchy little band aid, exhaling a sharp laugh. “You don’t need a nurse. You need some sleep.”

He didn’t answer as you led him to the bedroom, the exhaustion on his face too evident for an objection.

The sheets were already pulled back from your earlier attempts at sleep, when you were too tense and worried to keep your eyes shut. Now, the blankets were too alluring to resist, warm and heavy, and you sunk easily into the mattress, exhaling relief.  

When Satoru laid beside you, you rolled over, forcing him onto his side so that you could wrap your arms securely around him.

For half a moment, he tensed, surprised, but didn’t object to the change in your usual position. Instead, he held your hand tighter against his chest, letting you intertwine your legs with his own.

Satoru was warm, and he needed a shower, but you were too consumed by overwhelming relief that you didn’t care about anything but being near him.

“I’m okay, sweetie,” he said after a moment of unbroken silence, caressing your knuckles with rough fingertips. “Really, you don’t need to—”

Swallowing, you buried your forehead further into his neck, breathing in the cotton and detergent from the fresh shirt he’d changed into. Sweat lingered on his skin, and his hair was tangled, but the faint smell of his cologne remained. “Just let me hold you, Satoru.”

The moment was serene as he contemplated his next words.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, uncertain. The opposite of every adjective that most people would use to describe him.

It was not a question that could be so easily answered with a yes or no, and you wondered what you could say that wouldn’t upset him. Satoru was the sun, but he belonged to more than just you; one singular person couldn’t bottle up that light and threaten to hide it away from the rest of the world, just to keep it safe.

“I don’t want you to think you’re alone in this, because you’re not.” You hummed your words, maintaining every syllable on a single tone, hoping it wasn’t evident that your voice was near collapse. “Let everyone else think Satoru Gojo is invincible, but I know better.” The hum of the fan became your focus, his subtle breaths interrupting the white noise.

He squeezed your hand, silent once. Another minute passed. Sounds from outside cut through it, sharp. “I don’t have another choice.”

He never meant to scare you, but it happened anyway. It would always happen, so long as you harbored a shred of affection for the man who’d never had any other choice but to be a jujutsu sorcerer. You pressed a kiss to his neck, then, the skin warm and soft there.

“I know.” A sigh left your lips. You were grateful that you weren’t facing him. “The world needs you. Am I selfish for thinking I need you more?”

Satoru turned in one fluid movement, crushing you to his chest, burying his nose in your hair. His arms squeezed your stomach, so much tighter than you anticipated, but you were safe, warm, and he was sheltered there with you. “I could never think you’re selfish for that.” You clung to him. “I’m sorry I can’t be here with you more.”

Another wave of stillness hit the two of you, in which neither of you knew what to say next. His breath was cold against your ear. “It’s okay,” you said, even though sometimes it wasn’t, and you missed him every moment that he was away. “I’ll still be here every time you return.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, untangling the soft, white strands.

“I’m proud of you, Satoru. Sometimes, I just wish you’d let me take care of you. I wish I could do more.”

You felt him laugh, though there was little amusement in it, and you wondered if, maybe, he wished that too. But he was Satoru Gojo, and you were just a grade one sorcerer, and when it came to jujutsu, the gap of power is wide between you. There are missions he must take that no one else can, not even you, and you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your life.

“You don’t need to do more.” He kissed your temple and relinquished his position once more, flipping to his side. Your stomach was once again pressed to his chest as you hold him.

There were no words left to be said. Instead, you held his wrist loosely in your hand, swirling patterns into it with your thumb. For once, Satoru’s breathing evens out before your own, and you are left alone once more.

a/n: inspired by this post -> xxx by my beloved @p00pdev1l everyone say ty jazz

cw: nudes, lewd videos, pillow humping

baby 🩵

:( miss u, toru attatchment: one video

Satoru perks up at the notification banner displayed across his screen, quickly clicking on the banner before turning up his volume. He spreads further onto the hotel sheets, cock already hardening in his sweats in anticipation. The videos dark when it first starts, and he’s quick to adjust his brightness before returning with eager eyes.

He palms himself when you come into the frame, cursing at the view of your drooling cunt spread open for him. “Hi, toru,” you whisper shyly, “wanted to show you how much I’ve been missin’ you.” His cock swells at the pout on your face, wishing more than anything that his face was buried between your thighs instead of your too small fingers. He pulls his cock out as your fingers circle your clit, moaning to himself at the small whimpers leaving your pretty mouth. He’s do anything to have it wrapped around his cock right now, his own hand paling in comparison to your eager lips and warm throat. “Been thinkin’ about you,” you continue, “I thought I should thank you properly for the gift you gave me before you left.” His eyes nearly roll into his skull when you pull out the light blue stuffy he’s gifted you, but he forces his eyes to stay open to enjoy the show you’re so willingly displaying for him.

His cock twitches when you place the stuffy below your cunt, shuffling around until you’re gasping as it makes contact with your aching clit. “Shit,” he drawls, squeezing the base of his cock to stave off his early release. His fist moves in tandem with your hips, his tip leaking profusely as your hips stutter when it hits you just right. “Wish it was you instead,” you whine, hands pushing up his shirt you’ve stolen to twist at your pert nipples, “wish it was your face I was rubbin’ my pussy on. Or your cock.” You cry out as your pace increases and he wishes so, so bad that your face was in the frame so he could see the way your lips part and brows crease at the pleasure.

His hips are rutting up into his fist now, raspy moans falling from his lips when you stutter out his name as though he’s the one touching you. It fills him with an unbridled sense of possessiveness, knowing that even across the country it’s him who has you aching like this. Him who has your thighs quaking and breaths stuttering. “Wanna be filled so bad!” you cry out, “Need your cock, toru. Feels so empty without you.” He looks nothing short of depraved, nearly salivating as his fist squeezes his cock to mimic your tight heat. “Gonna cum,” you moan, “gonna cum for you, toru!” His moans grow louder, rasping out a brutal, “Cum for me,” as though he’s in the room with you.

Your back arches and your legs shake as your high washes over you, and he’s quick to follow, whispering your name into the empty room as his cum falls onto his chest. And just when he thought he couldn’t love you more, you whisper, “Wish your cum was fillin’ me instead of your fist.” Little minx, he thinks to himself, fond smile on his face when your own finally comes into the frame, murmuring a quick, “Love you, toru,” before making a kissing motion to the camera.

Toru! 🩵

Look at the mess you’ve made, sweetheart attachment: one image