Morning, Munchkuna! / Sukuna Fic

Hi!! I didn’t even realize ur requests were open until I checked your pinned omg. Can u write something dark with loser reader and bully fratboy Gojo pls?? They used to be rly close like lowkey childhood besties and everyone thought they were gonna end up together, BUT he got mixed in with the wrong crowd (aka the frat) and now he’s just so MEAN. He bullies her for no reason now but like... in that messed up way where he’s still obsessed w her?? Like he knows her too well, knows what makes her tick and he uses that against her just to watch her squirm. I want toxic codependent vibes, power imbalance, him being POSSESSIVE as hell and her still clinging to what they used to be. And maybe he’s extra cruel bc he HATES that she still gets to him. Also, this is embarrassing but please write the reader as flat chested. Thank uuu

a/n: ahhh this was actually the second request i ever got on here and it made me spiral (in the best way). i literally paused all my wips to double down on this one because the brainrot was insane. i hope you enjoy what i cooked up hihi <3

cw: dark content, somnophilia, cockwarming, dacryphilia, edging, overstimulation, oral sex, fingering, spanking, nipple play, hair-pulling, public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, filming, degradation, humiliation, sadism, drug use, alcohol consumption, jealousy, possessiveness, gaslighting, victim blaming, slut shaming, coercion, stalking, obsessive behavior, 18+ only, MDNI.

fratboy satoru who was once your north star, the kid who’d slip you extra cookies during late-night study sessions, his goofy grin lighting up your world. you’d giggle at his dumb jokes under a blanket fort, his hand brushing yours, promising forever with the kind of sincerity only a kid could muster. but that satoru’s dead, buried under the weight of his family’s collapse, his own arrogance, and the frat’s toxic grip. now, he’s a king in a jungle of red solo cups and bass-heavy trap music, his blue eyes cutting through the haze of a packed house party.

fratboy satoru who’s buzzing from the xans suguru slipped him, his veins electric after a football game win, dragging you to the frat house basement where the air’s thick with weed and desperation. the couch is stained, sagging under your weight as he shoves your skirt up, pinning you down with a hand on your chest. “don’t fucking scream,” he hisses, eyes glinting with sadistic glee as his fingers plunge into you, slick and merciless, curling deep while his other hand smothers your whimpers. “bet you’re soaking ‘cause you love this shit.” your body betrays you, clenching around him as tears stream down your face, and he’s eating it up, his grin wicked as you shatter, sobbing into his palm. “look at this pretty cunt, dripping for me like it knows who owns it,” he growls, his voice low and filthy, fingers pumping harder just to hear you choke on your own moans. he doesn’t stop there—keeps going until you’re shaking, cumming again, your thighs slick and trembling. “fuck, you’re a mess, my favorite fucking mess,” he laughs, licking his fingers clean, eyes never leaving your tear-streaked face. he doesn’t soften, just pulls you onto his lap, muttering, “stay still, or i’ll fuck you right here.”

fratboy satoru who thrives on your fragility, your too-soft heart that cracks under his cruelty. you’re in the library, glasses slipping, surrounded by textbooks, trying to claw your way through a chem assignment. he finds you, of course—slips into the chair behind you, yanking your ponytail back just hard enough to make you gasp. “thought you could hide from me?” he whispers, voice dripping with mockery, but he’s already pulling you into a cramped study room, locking the door. he bends you over the table, skirt flipped up, your notes scattering like confetti. “fuck, you’re so small, so breakable,” he pants, belt clinking as he frees himself, slamming into you so deep your nails dig into the wood. “cry for me, baby, you’re cutest when you’re a mess.” you do, snotty and pathetic, your glasses fogging as he fucks you senseless, his cock stretching you until you’re dizzy. “look at you, taking this dick like it’s your fucking job,” he snarls, slapping your ass, loving how you flinch. your tears only make him harder, and when you beg him to slow down, he just laughs, kissing your wet cheeks. “nah, you’re too fucking cute like this, all pathetic and ruined.”

fratboy satoru who’s got an unholy obsession with your tits, small as they are, worshiping them like they’re his personal altar. he’s got you sprawled across his dorm bed, the sheets reeking of weed and cheap cologne, straddling your waist as he sucks and bites, leaving your chest a map of purple bruises and red teeth marks. “fuck, these are perfect,” he groans, teeth grazing your nipple until you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets. he pins your wrists above your head, his knee between your thighs, grinding against you just to feel you squirm. “keep still, or i’ll tie you up and do this all fucking night,” he warns, eyes glinting with that mean streak, and you know he means it. his tongue’s relentless, swirling over sensitive skin, and when you arch into him, he growls, “goddamn, you’re begging for it, aren’t you? little tits driving me fucking insane.” he leaves you raw, marked, and when he’s done, he kisses you hard, all teeth and possession, muttering, “you’re my fucking angel, don’t forget it.” but there’s no softness, just his hand squeezing your bruised chest one last time.

fratboy satoru who can’t get enough of your pussy, addicted to the way you taste like it’s his last hit. “been thinking about this all night,” he says, spreading your thighs wide, his fingers digging into your ass as he buries his face between your legs. his tongue’s obscene, lapping at your clit like he’s trying to drown in you, sucking hard until your knees buckle. “taste so fucking sweet, could live down here,” he mumbles, voice muffled as he pushes two fingers inside, curling them just to make you scream. you grip the counter, biting your lip to stay quiet, but he doesn’t give a fuck—he wants the whole house to hear. “let it out, baby, let ‘em know who’s eating this pussy,” he taunts, licking you through your first orgasm, then another, until you’re a shaking, dripping mess. he stands, chin glistening, smirking. “that’s my girl.”

fratboy satoru who’s a monster when he’s jealous, his blood boiling when he spots you laughing with some nerd at a campus café. he doesn’t confront you there—just waits, simmering, until he’s got you alone in his car, parked in a shadowy alley. “think you can flirt with other guys?” he snarls, ripping your blouse open, buttons pinging off the dashboard. he reclines the seat, forcing your legs over his shoulders, fucking you so hard the car creaks. “this pussy’s mine, you fucking get that?” he spits, slapping your thigh, his cock relentless as you cry out, overwhelmed. “bet he can’t fuck you stupid like i do,” he growls, his pace brutal, overstimulating you until you’re sobbing, begging for him to ease up. but he doesn’t—he leans down, kissing your tears, smirking, “so fucking pretty when you’re pathetic.” when it’s over, he doesn’t soften, just tosses you his jacket, muttering, “cover up, you’re a fucking mess.”

fratboy satoru who films every depraved second, his phone propped on a nightstand as he’s got you bent over his desk, your skirt bunched at your waist. “smile for the camera, baby,” he taunts, spanking you hard enough to leave welts, the sound echoing in the room. the video’s grainy but vivid—your choked whimpers, the wet slap of skin, your thighs trembling as he fucks you raw. “gonna keep this forever,” he says, voice low and possessive, “jerk off to it when you’re not here.” he doesn’t share the vids, thank fuck—they’re his alone, a private shrine to your broken devotion. “look at this tight little cunt, swallowing me whole,” he groans, zooming in as you clench around him, your tears glistening in the low light. “fuck, you were made for this dick.” he cums with a grunt, watching the footage later, stroking himself to your snotty, ruined face, muttering, “you’re mine, always.”

fratboy satoru who’s unhinged when he’s high, snorting lines with sukuna in the frat house attic before stumbling to your dorm at 3 a.m. you’re asleep, curled up in a t-shirt, but he doesn’t care—he crawls into your bed, yanking your panties off, giggling like a fucking lunatic. “shh, just let me have you,” he slurs, burying his face in your pussy, his tongue sloppy but desperate, moaning like he’s getting off more than you. “fuck, i’d die for this pussy,” he mumbles, licking you until you stir, gasping as your body betrays you, cumming under his relentless mouth. he’s still high when he fucks you, slow and messy, his cock slipping in with a wet squelch. “you’re my fucking lifeline, i’d die without you,” he whispers, eyes bloodshot, but there’s no softness—just his hand gripping your throat, keeping you in place as he takes what he needs.

fratboy satoru who’s got a fetish for your panties, always checking what you’re wearing like it’s his birthright. he corners you in an empty lecture hall after class, flipping your skirt up without preamble. “let’s see what you’re wearing,” he says, fingers brushing the fabric, smirking when he sees the plain cotton. “boring,” he scoffs, pocketing them, leaving you bare. “walk back to your dorm like this,” he orders, his voice low and mean. “bet you’re wet thinking about it.” he’s right—your thighs are slick, your face burning with shame as you obey, and he kneels, licking a slow stripe up your inner thigh, teasing your clit just enough to make you whine. “so fucking needy,” he laughs, standing to kiss you, his lips tasting of you and spearmint gum. “you’re mine, don’t forget,” he adds, twirling your stolen panties around his finger like a prize.

fratboy satoru who lives for fingering you at a frat party, right in the middle of the chaos, perched on his lap like his personal trophy. the room’s a blur of flashing lights and pounding music, but he’s got two fingers buried in you under your skirt, pumping slow and deliberate while he laughs with suguru about some dumb bet. “keep quiet, or they’ll all know what a slut you are,” he whispers, biting your earlobe, his thumb circling your clit until you cum, shaking in his lap, tears welling up from the embarrassment. but he doesn’t stop—keeps going, chasing another orgasm, then another, because you’re just too fucking cute, all teary-eyed and red-faced, trying to hide your face in his neck. “fuck, look at you, falling apart for me in front of everyone,” he taunts, his voice dripping with filth. “bet you want ‘em all to see how this pussy creams for me.” you’re sobbing, mortified, but he just licks your tears, thrusting harder, making sure every drunk asshole in the room knows you’re his. when you cum again, he doesn’t even flinch—just smirks, licking his fingers clean, muttering, “good fucking girl.”

fratboy satoru who’s got you bouncing on his dick like a ragdoll, his phone pressed to his ear while he’s laughing with suguru about some frat drama. you’re in his dorm, straddling him on his gaming chair, your skirt fanned out, tits jiggling with every brutal thrust as he grips your hips, slamming you down harder just to feel you choke on a sob. “yeah, sugu, tell me more,” he says casually, but his eyes are locked on your tear-streaked face, your mouth open in a silent scream. “fuck, this pussy’s gripping me like it’s scared i’ll leave,” he growls low, just for you, his free hand smacking your ass to make you yelp. “keep it down, baby, don’t want suguru hearing how you’re creaming on my cock.” but he’s lying—he loves the idea of someone knowing, and when you cum, shaking and snotty, he mutes the call for a second to kiss your tears, smirking. “you’re too fucking cute when you’re falling apart.”

fratboy satoru who catches you washing dishes in the frat house kitchen, your apron tied tight, looking so domestic it makes his dick twitch. you’re humming softly, oblivious, and he can’t take it—you’re too much like wife material, and it’s fucking with his head. he yanks you against the sink, ripping your leggings down, and fucks you right there, the counter digging into your stomach. “look at you, playing house like you’re not my little cumslut,” he sneers, his cock splitting you open as water sloshes in the sink. “this pussy’s so wet, like it’s begging me to ruin your perfect little fantasy.” your hands grip the faucet, knuckles white, as he pounds into you, dishes clattering with every thrust. “gonna fuck you so good you’ll never dream of anyone else,” he says, biting your neck, leaving a bruise. when you cum, crying his name, he just laughs, leaving you there, panties soaked, to finish the dishes.

fratboy satoru who’s paranoid you’re dreaming of someone else, watching you sleep so peacefully in his bed, your face soft even after he’s fucked you raw. he’s high, overthinking, and can’t stand it—he needs to own every part of you, even your dreams. he slips your panties off, careful not to wake you, and slides his cock into you slow, groaning at how warm and tight you are. “fuck, even your sleeping cunt knows it’s mine,” he whispers, thrusting shallow, watching your brows furrow in your sleep. he’s gentle at first, but when you stir, moaning softly, he goes harder, waking you with a gasp as he fucks you deep. “no one else gets to haunt you like this,” he growls, cumming inside you as you whimper, half-conscious. he doesn’t soften, just kisses your forehead, muttering, “stay in my bed, always.”

fratboy satoru who’s got you cockwarming him while he’s gaming, his headset on as he barks orders at his Valorant team, crushing some rival frat. you’re perched on his lap, his dick buried deep, your thighs trembling as he keeps you still, one hand on your waist, the other clicking his mouse. “don’t you fucking move,” he hisses during a pause, his voice sharp, “or i’ll fuck you till you’re screaming and they all hear.” every time he gets a kill, he thrusts up hard, making you gasp, your pussy clenching around him. “this tight little cunt’s my good luck charm,” he taunts, slapping your thigh when you squirm. he edges you for hours, ignoring your whimpers, until the match ends and he finally fucks you proper, growling, “cum for me, show me you’re mine.” you do, sobbing, and he just smirks, leaving you to drip on his chair.

fratboy satoru who’s feeding you bites of his burger at a crowded frat party, perched on a table while he stands between your legs, his plate balanced in one hand. everyone’s too drunk to notice how he’s grinding his bulge against your clothed cunt, your skirt riding up as he presses harder with every bite he offers. “open wide, baby,” he says, shoving a fry in your mouth, his hips rocking subtly, making you squirm. “fuck, you’re so wet through these panties, like a needy little bitch,” he whispers, his voice low and filthy. “bet you’d let me fuck you right here, let ‘em all see how you take this dick.” you’re blushing, teary, trying to chew while he keeps the pressure on, your clit throbbing. he doesn’t let you cum, just keeps you on edge, smirking when you nearly cry from frustration. “eat up, you’re gonna need the energy.”

fratboy satoru who’s obsessed with edging you until you’re a babbling mess, especially after a nightmare where you tried to leave him. he’s got you in his dorm, tied to his headboard, your thighs spread as he teases your clit with slow, featherlight strokes. “you love this dick too much to leave, don’t you?” he taunts, stopping every time you’re close, your hips bucking desperately. “say it—say you’re fucking obsessed with me.” you’re crying, snotty, babbling, “i love you, satoru, please,” and he just laughs, cruel and delighted. “that’s right, my pathetic little angel, keep begging.” he finally lets you cum after hours, your body shaking, and he’s kissing your tears, but it’s not soft—just possessive. “don’t ever fucking dream of leaving me again.”

fratboy satoru who’s got a sick obsession with public bathrooms, dragging you into one at the science building during a lecture break, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. “be quick,” he snaps, locking the door, his belt already clinking as he shoves you against the sink, your skirt yanked up. he spreads your thighs wide, his cock slamming into you with a wet squelch, the mirror fogging from your ragged breaths. “love how you take this dick,” he growls, smacking your ass hard, the sound echoing off the tiles as your face crumples, tears spilling from overstimulation. “cry harder, baby, it’s so fucking cute—look at you, sobbing like a slut in a shithole like this.” your hands claw at the porcelain, your body shaking as he fucks you relentless, his pace brutal, loving how your tears streak your cheeks, snot dripping. he doesn’t stop after you cum once—keeps going, growling, “gimme another, let ‘em hear you outside.” you’re a wreck, begging for mercy, but he just laughs, cumming with a guttural groan, his seed dripping down your thighs. he kisses you soft after, wiping your cheeks, but it’s fleeting, his voice cold. “you’re okay, yeah? just us. now fix your face, you look fucked out.”

fratboy satoru who’s vicious when you try to slip away, catching you creeping out of his dorm after a screaming match over his latest stunt—spreading lies about you to keep guys away. you’re halfway down the dim hallway, heart pounding, when his hand clamps around your wrist, yanking you back. “where the fuck you going?” he snarls, his blue eyes wild with something raw, almost feral—fear masquerading as rage. he pins you against the peeling wall, ripping your jeans down, your legs forced around his waist as he fucks you right there, rough and angry, the drywall scraping your back. “you don’t get to leave me,” he spits, voice cracking, his cock stretching you so wide it burns. “this pussy’s fucking mine, you hear me?” you’re sobbing, your nails digging into his shoulders, and he’s relentless, slamming into you until you cum, crying into his neck. he’s kissing you like he’s pleading, desperate, his hands bruising as he holds you tight, whispering, “i’m sorry, fuck, don’t scare me like that.” but there’s no softness, just his grip tightening, a warning not to try again.

fratboy satoru who’s addicted to breaking you, loving how you shatter under him. he’s got you on all fours in his room, the frat house walls thin enough to let every sound carry, fucking you from behind with a sadistic edge. “nah, baby, take it,” he growls, yanking you back by your waist when you try to crawl away, your body trembling from the stretch of his cock, so thick it feels like it’s tearing you apart. “you can handle more, i know you can,” he says, slamming into you, the headboard banging loud as you sob, snot dripping onto the sheets. “fuck, you’re so cute like this,” he whispers, kissing your spine, his voice mocking as he keeps going, even when you’re shaking, cumming around him with a choked scream. he doesn’t stop, pushing you into another orgasm, his cum spilling inside you as he groans, low and filthy. after, he cleans you up, his lips soft on your swollen pussy, murmuring, “you did so good for me,” but his eyes are already glinting, planning the next way to ruin you.

fratboy satoru who flips out when he sees you chatting with a guy in chem class, his jealousy a live wire. he doesn’t confront you there—just stews, his jaw tight, until he’s got you alone in an empty campus parking lot at dusk. “think you can replace me?” he growls, shoving you over the hood of his car, the metal cold against your stomach as he rips your tights open, the fabric tearing loud in the quiet. he fucks you so hard your knees buckle, his cock driving deep, relentless, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the slick surface. “this cunt knows who it belongs to,” he spits, his hand fisting your hair, yanking your head back as he overstimulates you, pushing you past your limit until you’re crying, begging, your voice hoarse. “so fucking pretty when you’re pathetic,” he laughs, kissing your tears, his tongue licking the salt off your skin. he cums with a snarl, leaving you shaking, but he doesn’t let you collapse—carries you to the passenger seat, tossing his jacket over you, muttering, “you’re mine, always remember that.” his hand rests on your thigh as he drives, possessive, unyielding.

fratboy satoru who’s rarely tender, but when he is, it’s after he’s pushed you to the edge, leaving you bruised and trembling. after a night of fucking you senseless—your thighs marked with bites, your wrists sore from his grip—he pulls you into his bed, the sheets tangled and smelling of sweat. “you’re my only light,” he mumbles, voice low, kissing your hair, your shoulders, the purple welts on your thighs. his fingers trace the marks he left, like he’s trying to piece you back together, his touch almost reverent. “don’t hate me, okay?” he says, voice small, almost boyish, and you nod, too exhausted to argue, your body curling into his warmth. he holds you through the night, stroking your back, and for a fleeting moment, he’s that kid again—the one who’d sneak you candy and whisper promises under starry skies. but by morning, his eyes are cold again, his smirk sharp, reminding you the softness is a trap, a rare glitch in his cruelty.

sukuna gets yelled at by his wife pt 2 🫶🏻 (pt 1)

“honey? will you take the chicken out of the freezer?”

“mhm”

he doesn’t take it out of the freezer. in fact, he wasn’t even listening to you in the first place. as much as you love coming home to the kitchen being spotless, not a speck of dust in sight, there should be a fully thawed package of chicken thighs laying around somewhere.

“sukuna?”

“what is it now?” he grumbles, still not completely paying attention to you.

“where’s the chicken?”

“oh i uh—“ he makes some weird hand gesture at the fridge. “forgot i guess. who cares, let’s get takeout.”

“… but i asked you.. nicely.”

he lets out long sigh. “i know I forgot, its not a big deal. we can order from you fa—“

“i will STARVE YOU SUKUNA— DO YOU FUCKING WANT THAT???”

“the fuck? no?!” he takes a step back from the sudden outburst. “if it’s that big of deal ill just take it out right n—”

“for WHAT? so we can eat at 3 AM?!”

“I OFFERED TAKE OUT DIDN’T I??!”

“wow this is just great— not only are you USELESS BUT NOW YOU’RE YELLING AT ME im gonna cry” your voice breaks into a whine and sukuna looks even more mortified.

“no don’t— don’t cry,” he slightly panics. “there’s no need to cry, i can just—“

“you can just what, sukuna?” you sniffle. “thaw out the chicken?? it’s fucking FROZEN”

“i know that,” he watches his tone. “lemme just.. ill go to the store right now and grab a new pack so we won’t have to wait.”

“you’d do that?” you look up at him with glossy eyes, his pants slightly tighten.

“of course,” he swears. “of course i would.”

“c-could you get ice cream too?” you drag out the tears. maybe if you continue acting depressed for the rest of the night he’ll buy you a new bag or something.

he nods rather frantically, “mhm, chocolate right?”

another redraw rhe colors are a bit off but i gave up🚬

Satoru doesn't do well with the idea of leaving you. Never has. Probably never will.

Even the short missions are enough to make him sulky, but the long ones? The ones where he’ll be away for days, maybe weeks? He turns into a whining mess. You wonder if he's always been like this, just never voiced it aloud to anyone before.

Packing takes three times longer than it should. Every time he tries to fold a shirt or zip his carry on, he ends up abandoning the task halfway through just to wrap his arms around you from behind, pressing his face into the crook of your neck with a pitiful little whine.

"I don't wanna go," he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin, maybe saying it enough times might make the whole thing mission disappear. "You’re my little Pokémon, y'know? I should be able to just catch you in a ball and bring you with me."

You laugh, warm and breathless, reaching up behind you to card your fingers through his snowy hair. "You could try," you tease, and he groans dramatically, squeezing you tighter.

It’s not just joking, though. When you offer to come with him, he always gets a little quiet. A little stuck in his mind. Turning you around and pulling back just enough to look at you, and the way his bright blue eyes shimmer... God, it breaks your heart a little. He wants to say yes. You can see it in the way his hand trembles against your side. The way his pretty eyes scan your face. It's on the tip of his tongue.

But instead, he just shakes his head slowly, a wobbly little smile on his lips.

Because the thought of something happening to you, curse or no curse, makes his heart ache. Makes his mind wander a little too far for his liking.

What if he’s in the middle of a fight and someone targets you?

What if he’s too far away to reach you in time?

What if...?

"Can’t risk it," he finally says softly, thumb brushing back and forth against your hip, memorizing the feel of your soft skin. Maybe your scent will eventually be engrained in his mind. "You're... you’re everything, baby."

Already pulling you against his lean chest again, holding you so tightly you can barely breathe, mumbling "I love you" over and over against the crown of your head. His palm rubbing up and down your back in loose patterns. You almost think he's tearing up.

"I love you. I love you so much. Don’t forget, okay?" he murmurs between kisses to the top of your head. "Be safe. Call me if you even think something’s weird, kay? I’ll come running, promise."

You have to physically pry him off you just to get him to finish packing. And even then, he keeps glancing back at you every five seconds. Begging for one more hug. One more kiss. One more chance to touch you before he has to drag himself to the door.

By the time he actually gets to the door, he’s somehow hugging you again, despite your giggling protests, rocking you gently side to side in his arms, mumbling about how he’s going to miss you so bad he might just quit being a sorcerer and become your full-time house husband. (He’s only half joking.)

Finally, after a hundred kisses and whispered I love yous, he leans down one last time, nose brushing against yours, voice soft and almost trembling: "Be here when I get back, 'kay? I don’t wanna come home to a world without you."

But then, quieter, so quiet you nearly miss it he adds: "...And don’t... don’t forget about me either, yeah? Don’t find someone normal while I'm gone. Someone who doesn't leave. Someone who can give you the kind of life you deserve."

It’s said with a half-laugh, light and teasing, like he’s trying to play it off, but you can feel it in the way his arms tighten around you, the way his voice wavers. That tiny, hidden crack in the foundation of Satoru Gojo: The fear that being the strongest might mean ending up the loneliest too.

And even as he finally forces himself to step away, flashing you that big, blinding smile. You catch the flicker of sadness he tries so desperately to hide. Because no matter how strong he is, when it comes to you, Satoru’s always afraid that someday you’ll realize you deserve more than a man who keeps having to leave.

ur rides here

Baby You're a Star

Art in the banner by Kerravi on x!

Pairings- Pornstar Satoru x shy f!reader

Warnings- mentions of sex and sexwork, masturbation (M and f) back shots, threesomes on set w/ Suguru and Sukuna, cum drinking, weed smoking, drinking, lots of longing, reader is innocent DON'T read if you don't like that, pining, obsessive, he can't get hard if it's not you, whipped ass Satoru because that's how I NEED HIM, a lot of mentions of sex, cum, etc- it's about porn so lol. A lil bit of angsttt, a lil bit of cuteness, demisexual reader, hoe Satoru what a pair.

Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!? WC 10k!

Based on Pornstar Satoru- Playlist- Chapter Two>>>

Chapter One

Satoru Gojo was one of the most famous pornstars there are, and the baddie arched right in front of him, sucking on one of the other most famous stars’ cock - Satoru’s best friend Suguru Geto - shows exactly why he is. When he slams his latex covered cock so deep inside her she screams, squirting all down his cock while she chokes down Suguru…

That’s not just for the camera.

Satoru knows every spot on his co-stars, shouldn’t it be fun for them too? He never would let a single one of them not cum several times, hence the long, long line and insane demand he has. The amount of onlyfans collab requests he gets, along with shoot after shoot, he has to be extremely picky, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t eat up how desired he was.

Even now, he winks right into the camera, knowing how many people were watching this livestream, gripping his costar’s hips and slamming his cock so deep, while Suguru is gripping her face delicately, moaning. Blue eyes and violet eyes meet the camera, dual smirks while they make this girl shatter for them, until they know it’s time for the money shot.

She’s eagerly on her knees, at the most perfect angle in the room they use as a stage, fully lit with pro lighting, and the comments and tips from this livestream are going insane, all while she looks up at both of them. Satoru takes off his condom, while she strokes him, sucking his cock and then Suguru’s, so huge and heavy, though Satoru loves to brag that he’s just a little longer, and Suguru brags he’s thicker.

They love competing, including who cums more, both of them moaning, though Satoru is a little more occupied with how good his abs look in the camera, fuck they’re glistening really, as she starts jerking them off now with practiced hands. Suguru looks at Satoru then, brushing back dark locks.

“I’m gonna cum way more than you this time.” He murmurs, so that the camera’s couldn’t hear, but the girl stroking them giggles a bit, clearly fucked out.

Satoru stretches his arms up, folding them behind his head, as the strokes get faster, as she laps up his milky precum from his perfect pink tip. “Nah, no way, I will this time.”

“So competitive, hmm?” She says, drawing their attention, then she hits that twist just right, and Satoru and Suguru are cumming all over her eager face, her hands, her open mouth, shooting milky ropes and groaning out.

Satoru gets paid to cum on pretty girls faces, and he gets paid a lot, with his best fucking friend - just how do you beat that? He grins as the livestream is popping off, and Suguru is delicate in swiping their cum all over her for one more money shot, Satoru leans over, stroking himself right on camera once more, to the many happy tips and replies of all his fans.

“And that’s a wrap.” Satoru’s cocky voice follows a click, as he takes in just how much they made, whistling. “Goddamn, we should celebrate.”

“Um… guys…” Satoru turns then, as his co-star is covered, and he laughs a bit, rushing to grab soft wet wipes for her.

“I’m sorry, shit!” Him and Suguru carefully clean her up, and now her manager walks in, along with Satoru’s and Suguru’s, a freshly cleaned costar hugs the two of them.

“Thank you for letting me join, my OF is gonna blow up!” Satoru smiles then, while their managers all spread out the cut.

“Of course, you did great.” She beams, hugging Suguru now.

“Amazing, love.”

“You all are the best!” Soon it’s just Satoru and Suguru with their managers, and Satoru is yawning, bored, still not dressed, cock just swinging and still huge on semi hard, much to his manager’s annoyance.

“We have a big shoot tomorrow, don’t be out partying.” He says, avoiding Satoru’s cock in his vision so much Satoru laughs.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Satoru and Suguru absolutely listen…

Not.

They’re smoking a blunt right in the middle of a Hollywood party, lit off their asses, perhaps they partook in a little coke to celebrate, but who’s to say, just a residue of white in their nostrils to really know. They’re surrounded by women, free drinks all over of the highest quality, to celebrate breaking the bank with the star they shot with, why should they turn it down?

Satoru Gojo loves his life, really.

It feels good, it’s always busy, full of pretty women and an insane amount of money and fame, shit he loves to read comments on himself, but he wouldn’t admit it, about how badly everyone wants him. And why wouldn’t they? Satoru finds himself attractive as fuck, first and foremost. But at times, alone in that penthouse when Suguru would leave for days at a time…

Sometimes he got a little lonely, if he was being honest. Hollywood was full of fake and fleeting friends, and even costars wanted his fame, his cock, his money, not really him. But that was something Satoru shoves far, far back, instead returning his mind to the party at hand, a sea of bodies in a huge mansion right on the coast, littered with entangled and dancing bodies.

It all seems perfect, until Satoru sees someone walk in, a pretty girl who just doesn’t fit in, she just sticks out, nervously clutching a teddy bear cased phone, pushing up her tortoiseshell glasses. As Satoru leans forward, and Suguru hands him a blunt, he can’t get his fucking gaze of the girl, her baggie tan sweater, white pleated skirt and converse.

She stands out completely from the half naked women, many blondes with fake bodies, fake asses, fake tits… not that Satoru minded, he loves all tits and asses, silicon or not. But you look natural, your lips don’t have all that filler, the lips you’re biting, but when your teeth release them, they’re still full and fucking gorgeous, just a bit glossy, the low soft lights glinting off them.

The music of the party fades, everything fades, it’s like some stupid nineties rom com where the room parts, and it’s just this girl. A sweet girl with her hair falling over one shoulder, the other bare, and if Satoru could pick a body part that’s oddly turning him on, it’s your bare shoulder, your collarbones, with a pretty necklace that looks like it must be your zodiac sign.

Someone comes up to you then, handing you a glass of champagne, and he watches you shift a bit, looking down shyly, tucking your hair behind your ear, eyes traveling up and down your body, dying to know what your outfit is hiding. Your eyes catch his suddenly, a sweet, shy smile that just fucks him up, it’s like you’ve punched him in the fucking chest.

“Satoru… Satoru… earth to fucking Satoru… M’gonna smoke all this blunt myself, then-” Satoru finally realizes Suguru is calling for him, when he waves a hand in front of Satoru’s face, ruining his field of vision. 

“Who is she?” Satoru and Suguru know most of the industry, sex workers and actors alike, and he sure the fuck has never seen you. Suguru eyes you then, his lips quirking up as you look down shyly once more, poking at your phone.

“I don’t know, she’s pretty though.” Satoru scowls, and Suguru leans back on the crushed velvet couch, purple as his eyes, handing Satoru the much smaller blunt than he previously saw.

How long had he been staring?

“Looks like a good girl, don’t corrupt her.” Satoru glares deeper, blue eyes glinting as he snatches up the blunt, wrapping his lips around the tip and inhaling that smoke deep in his lungs, leaning back and blowing the smoke up in a puffy cloud.

“Just curious, looks like she doesn’t belong here.” Suguru shrugs, taking the brown paper tube back, ashing it in a tray along a dark black table, humming a bit to himself.

“We don’t date.”

“And?”

“She doesn’t… she looks like… she dates.”

“Huh, you can tell that?” Satoru raises a thin brow, and Suguru sighs, smirking a bit.

“I know lots of things.”

“Yeah, whatever… I’m talking to her.” Satoru stands up now, brushing his hands down his white dress shirt a bit, taking a breath.

Fuck is he nervous!?

Satoru Gojo, who strokes his dick on the camera, who grins as people comment that they want it in their mouths, their cunts, fuck- their asses, all their holes - filled up with his white cum. Satoru Gojo who is the top .01% of anyone on his OF, who has pro roles in the highest quality porn there was, was not a shy or nervous man, especially with women.

Why are his hands sweating then? His blood rushing through his ears every step he takes closer to you, your eyes lower a bit, so shy and cute and fucking precious, he has to smile a bit at you, drink in his hand, his other in the pocket of his dark armani slacks. He casually leans over a bit, as your eyes meet his, behind dark shades, his grin bright and enigmatic.

“Hey sweetheart, Satoru Gojo.” He expects you to notice maybe, but you just smile, oblivious, holding out your hand, small in his huge grip, and Satoru has some insane urge to kiss it, that he gulps down.

The fuck is this.

This feeling just touching your skin, inhaling your scent, fuck you smell sweet like some cupcake, you have him intoxicated as his eyes dart to those lips, teeth indentations he feels an urge to run his thumb across. Your eyes look up from behind your own glasses, as the two of you just hold hands for a moment, just a moment, and Satoru can hardly describe just what it is drawing him like a magnet.

You give him your name, and he repeats it, making your own heart race just a bit at the tall stranger, when his blue eyes glint as he slides off his shades, snowy lashes lowering over beautiful blue irises, your breath is caught in your chest. Swirling blue storms unlike anything you’ve ever seen, so intense and beautiful it’s almost difficult to look right at.

“Are you new to the area? Or…” You giggle a bit, sipping on the bubbly champagne that tickles your nose just a bit.

“I look that out of place huh?”

“No, you’re cute. Very cute. Pretty.” He’s stuttering damn near, Satoru fucking Gojo, watching the flush that decorates your cheeks, as your lips touch the rim of the glass, and he can’t stop thinking how much he’d like to kiss those little bite marks away.

“Thank you, that’s sweet.”

“Sweet is not what I’m usually called.”

“Oh really? What are you usually called?”

“Daddy.” You nearly snort out your champagne then, covering your face in a fit of laughter, and he pouts now, swirling those shades casually.

“Are you serious?”

“Oh yeah. They all do, they can’t help it, you know.”

“Mmhmm.” You’re giggling so much you snort, so cute Satoru can’t help but laugh with you, the first genuine one he’s done in a minute, not so forced to always appear so carefree. “I snorted, oh no!”

“It’s cute.” He brushes your hair between two of his fingers, and the both of you pause now, taking a breath, your lids lower just a bit, stepping closer, like Satoru himself is pulling you with his gravity. “What brings you here?”

“My friend invited me! She said seven, so I came a little early… but she’s not even on her way.” You sigh then, and he smirks just a bit.

“LA time is different. Twenty minutes late is on time, and forty minutes late is ‘fashionable’. No one comes early.”

“Shit!” You smack yourself in the forehead, and he takes your hand once more, enveloping your little one in his own.

“I can keep you company, want another drink?”

“Um… sure.”

Soon the two of you are sitting on one of the many couches in the taupe and white decorated mansion, the splashing and screeching of people in the pool mixing in a cacophony with the people dancing and the music inside. Satoru’s enraptured as you begin to talk, soft and thoughtful, while sipping on another glass, his arm just a bit across from you, behind your neck, fingers brushing your soft cashmere.

Every time he does you heat up that much more, you haven’t been with someone you felt this comfortable with in… maybe, ever. The instant feeling that he’s a sweet guy, natural, funny, and you almost wonder why he’s wasting time on you, with all the elegant women in various states of undress. But his eyes don’t even leave yours, his beautiful azure depths.

You can’t be so interesting or beautiful, sure you are very pretty, but more soft and sweet and not the Hollywood babes that were all over. But he’s laughing right with you, he soon starts busting out purple and white fuzzy weed, breaking it up and starting to roll a blunt, and you’ve never thought about being a paper until you watch a wicked pink tongue dart across it, long fingers sealing it.

“What’s wrong, don’t smoke, sweets?” The nicknames make you shift nervously, he’s too charming, too handsome, fuck not even handsome…

Pretty.

He’s too pretty to be real.

“Are you an actor, or model?” You blurt out, you don’t have much… thought before your words. He blinks a bit in surprise, flipping that blunt to smoke it now, lighting it up, you watch the orange and red of the cherry as he inhales.

“Hmm, a bit of both.” He exhales the puff of smoke, leaning closer to you, so close his thigh brushes yours, just that alone has your tummy fluttering.

“What are you in? I’d love to see your work.” Satoru starts coughing now, uncontrollably, eyes wide, as you stare in concern, coming to tap on his back. “Are you okay!?”

“Shit… yeah…” He’s coughing more, covering his mouth before looking away a moment, taking a breath.

Satoru was not ashamed of what he does for a living, and he never fucking will be either, but suddenly he doesn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, am I being nosy?”

“No, no… want a hit?” Clearly trying to avoid the question, you wonder… was he in some flop of a movie or something?

“I’ve never smoked.” You’re looking down again, those converse pointing in as you shift once more, so adorable he really can’t stand it.

“Never?” You shake your head, and he grins, teeth glinting as he leans even closer, holding the blunt up high, the smoke swirling around the two of you, creating an even headier atmosphere, like you could get high off him.

“No…”

“Let me be your first.”

“What now!? You’re teasing me!” You cross your arms as he bursts into laughter, taking another hit.

“You’re too adorable not to.” You can’t help how good that makes you feel, he makes you feel… reckless, this stranger. “I can blow it in your mouth?”

“Blow it in my…” You bite your lip again, Satoru leans forward, thumb releasing it from your row of teeth, and the action makes you both pause.

“You bite it too much.” He murmurs softly, and just touching your soft lips, thumb touching the plush of it, is hotter than cumming on a girl’s face this morning, in fact he’s not done something so sensual.

The man who last night was banging a co-star in a mating press, the night before he had two women, one on his face, one riding his cock. The other day, him and Suguru shared another girl, this time dual penetrating her, fuck they were both in her pussy- she clearly was miraculous to take it. This week alone he’d done six shoots, with the best Hollywood had to offer.

But this girl blushing, who’s never smoked a blunt, is so fucking sexy he barely holds back.

He’s leaking precum from your proximity.

“Will blowing in my mouth get me… um, high?” Your words shake him from his revelry, where he’s still touching your pretty little chin, making him clear his throat, plastering on a cocky smile like your scent alone doesn’t have him throbbing.

“A little, but not as intense as a hit yourself. Call it shotgun, you’ve really never heard of it?”

You shake your head, scooting closer and leaning forward, that tan and brown sweater falling just a little more over your shoulder, as your lips are too close. Any other girl by now Satoru would have on his OF, or have in a bedroom, a bathroom, maybe just here on this couch for everyone. He’d have his fingers on them, have them sucking him off.

But he’s just enjoying barely touching you.

Satoru shakes his head, wondering if he’s so high he’s imagining how intense this must be, but looking back down into your pretty eyes behind your glasses, he can’t shove it down. “Trust me?”

“Should I?” He wiggles his brows, grinning.

“Maybe you shouldn’t, maybe it’s a ploy to kiss you.” You’re giggling again, sighing now, and tilting your chin up, your hand resting on his thigh, while he cups your face.

“I doubt you need to ploy anyone into kissing them.”

“Never have before, no.”

“Then… I trust you.” You lean forward again, eyes fluttering shut, your lashes just barely brushing the glasses, and he pauses, before inhaling the blunt deep into his lungs, tilting your chin up and opening your lips.

“Suck in.” His words carry far too much intent, when he blows his smoke directly into your mouth, and you do just that, sucking in all the smoke you can, as he sighs into your sweet mouth, lips full and plush on your own.

Fuck.

Satoru blows all the smoke, and you’re sucking it in. “Good girl.”

Fuck.

You almost die then, coughing a bit, embarrassingly wet for him, and this is not normal. You’re a girl who has to have a relationship to have sex, you’re a girl who has to really know someone, feel so comfortable, but Satoru Gojo was completely wrecking you now. You let the smoke go, the fog rising, when he leans low once more, one hand pulling you closer.

“Another?” He asks in a whisper, you can’t stop but nodding, watching his plump lips circle that blunt again, and he’s blowing it back in your mouth, pulling you closer, while you inhale it deep. He pulls back a bit now, as you’re holding it, sighing. “Blow it back in my mouth.”

You do as he asks, and soon your tongues touch, sloppy and drippy wet, making you whine out from the back of your throat, the sound making Satoru fucking feral. You kiss fully, your hand slipping up his shirt now, lightheaded from the smoke and his ardent kiss, how he possesses your fucking mouth, and the blood rushes to your ears, your head so light and fuzzy.

“Fuck…” His words come out in a low growl, pulling you even closer, until one of your thighs is over his, and he’s pressing a kiss across your jaw, up to your ear, you’re gripping his soft, expensive shirt like your life depends on it, whimpering so softly only he can hear. “Taste so sweet, do you everywhere?”

“I… huh… I… mmm…” You’re dizzy when he nips your ear, a big hand brushing your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before he pulls back, eyes so bright, his pupils shrunk to little pinpoints now. “Gojo…”

“Satoru.”

You’re blushing furiously, eyeing your surroundings, when you’re soaked now, it feels so… naughty but exciting, fuck. You have to gather yourself, taking several shaky breaths, as he’s leaning down further, your heat against one of his thighs now. “Satoru um… I need a moment. That was intense.”

“Shit, of course.” He pulls back, taking his own breath, putting out the blunt now, eyeing the glossy redness of your now swollen lips.

He can picture them so perfectly wrapped around the tip of his cock. So innocent, did you do that? Would he have to show you, direct you? The perfect angle of your eyes, the way to open your mouth, how to take him deep down that little throat, one he can imagine seeing his cock bulge out of. All the thoughts are running insane while you lean back a bit, hands loosening their grip on his shirt finally.

“Want a drink, sweets?” You nod now, your eyes are so dilated they look black, glasses just a little fogged from his breath and the smoke.

“Yes, please. You didn’t tell me um, what movies can I find you in?”

“Like looking at me?” He’s cocky, conceited, but you just nod a bit, making him falter now. “Indie films, low budget, obscure.”

“Oh? I love indie flicks!” He grimaces now, a girl who’s never smoked weed and screams inexperienced may not like him if she knew he cums on girls' tits and their faces for money.

He wants to just say it.

But…

“You’ve not heard of ‘em. Let’s get you a drink, hmm pretty?” You nod shyly, standing with his help, and soon the two of you have made it in the center of one of the main party rooms, there are women getting lines done off them, men with several women on them at once, all kissing, grinding, along with those dancing. And now Satoru has your hips in his grip, showing you how to roll them.

You’re not a dancer, a little awkward and off beat, but you’re laughing, a pretty peal of a sound that melts him, and he can’t remember the last time he has had so much fun, as he does working you in a figure eight, kissing your neck teasingly. You’re ticklish, he really notices when his fingertips graze your hips under your sweater, earning your little gasp and look up at him.

“Cute.”

“You keep saying that, like I’m a little kitten!”

“Maybe you are. Or a little bunny.”

“Oh!” You’re giggling though, when you turn and get just a little dizzy, but he captures you, and you finally say it. “Um… why talk to me?”

Satoru frowns now, thin brows together, as the song is slower, and you’re damn near grinding against his thigh, with how he holds you. “What do you mean why?”

“You’re so… there’s so many…”

“Shh.” He puts a fingertip to glossy lips, taking a breath. “I’m enjoying myself, are you sweetheart?”

“Yes but…”

“Want a secret?” You nod and he leans down, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “You’re the prettiest girl here.”

“No way!”

“Mmhmm, and I’d know. Expert.” You tuck your face against his chest, giggling again, as your arms wrap his torso tighter.

“You’re being too nice.”

“No, just saying what I think. But your cheeks turn a really pretty color, don’t they?”

“Shh.” You look back up, eyes glittering, and it takes everything for Satoru not to take you then and there, lap up that heat he can feel emanating from your surely pretty little cunt. You peck a kiss on his neck, earning a little exhale, when Satoru pulls your little body even closer against his, so huge, tall, hard, everywhere. “Satoru…”

Suddenly your friend hits your field of vision, pausing and widening her pretty eyes as she takes in the sight of you two. You clear your throat, tapping Satoru then, whose hands are dangerously close to gripping your ass, your scent overtaking him, the feel of you in his arms driving him insane with need. He blinks a bit, as he then turns where you’re pointing.

“My friend!” You’re grinning then, and Satoru’s heart drops just a bit, when he recognizes her, since he’d been inside her just last week.

Shit.

“Come meet Satoru!” You’re bouncing practically as you drag Satoru by his hand, and your friend smiles just a bit, as Satoru clears his throat, and you’re adorable and oblivious.

“We’ve met.” You blink a bit in surprise at her words, looking at Satoru, who’s put back on his shades, hand that was on the small of your back falling.

“Oh, where? A movie set? She does some acting too!” Your best friend takes your hand then, as Satoru looks away.

“Yeah, a set. Um, can I steal you baby?” She asks, brushing your hair back, you nod with a pretty smile.

“I’ll be back!” Satoru smiles a bit, cursing softly, when Suguru comes walking up to him, sipping on a whiskey, eyeing the two girls.

“Didn’t you…”

“Fuck her friend? Yep.” He answers with a pop of his lips, hand brushing his hair back then, sighing. “Shit I really like her.”

“Like her or want her?”

“Both. More. Shit.” Suguru contemplates his friend, then eyes you and your friend together.

“Her friend is Jenna Juggs?”

Satoru’s lips quirk up a bit. “She is indeed. Fuck I need a drink, I am sure she won’t want to talk to me now.”

“Since when do you care?”

“Shut up.” Satoru’s all pouty, and you frown now, looking up at Jenna, who is tugging you far away.

“What’s going on? You always say I need to try to meet someone!”

“Yes, but…” She sighs now, looking over at him, then back down at you. “You really don’t recognize him?”

“He said he’s in like… indie films?” She snorts just a bit then, shaking her head and sighing.

“Indie films huh. Babe aren’t you on my OF?”

“To support you! I’ve never looked, oh god.” Jenna giggles, sighing.

“I thought you peeked a bit huh?”

“No. I read my porn.”

“So classy.” You both giggle, and you feel blue eyes boring across the room, sending a shiver down your spine as you look over your shoulder.

“I’m not any better than you because you like to watch or… participate. But anyway, what’s OF have to do with it?”

“We… collabed last week.” You watch her shift a bit, eyelashes lowering as she now giggles at the memory, and you feel your tummy clench just a bit, eyes catching Satoru’s again, he’s leaning against a counter, ignoring everyone that comes his way with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“Collabed as in…” She nods a little, and you exhale. “Oh.”

“He’s a huge name, like the top porn star there is, him and his friend over there.” You see him now, long dark hair, as tall as Satoru, leaning against the counter right with him, but Satoru still hasn’t peeled his eyes off you. “It was a big deal to get him to join, and he’s really sweet but…”

“But?” You raise a brow now, and your friend brushes her hair back, looking in their direction again.

“He’s amazing in bed, like the best I’ve had.”

“Ah… that good?” You’re clearing your throat nervously, drinking your glass slowly, trying to ignore the odd feelings in your tummy.

Were you really envious right now?

You shouldn’t feel this way, she’s your best friend and you don’t even know him, but also you could never just…

Could you?

“He hasn’t dated a single girl in the eight years he’s done porn, him or his friend, notoriously single even for the industry.”

“Shit are they together?” She laughs a bit then.

“People certainly ship them but…”

“Ship, like characters, are they that famous?”

“Mmhmm. Now if you just want to have fun, he’s amazing but I know you.” She puts one of her hands on your shoulders now, cool thumb running little circles on your bare shoulder. “You’re sweet, innocent and you want love.”

“I’ve done things!”

“With how many people?”

You sigh now, drinking the rest of your drink in a gulp. “Just my ex.”

“That’s what I figured, and that’s fine baby, if you need a connection, or something deep? He’s not it. That’s all, I see how much fun you were having, and I don’t want you hurt if he gets… what he wants and goes. In this industry how you see sex is very different.”

“Ah. I get it, you think he just wants to…” You can’t even say it, fuck you’d been wet, ready, and you were never like that with a stranger, your experience as a demisexual just is limited, where you crave connection, comfort, and meaning behind sex, you can’t just ‘have fun’.

But he’d had you questioning it all, because you felt something in that kiss- was it just his experience?

“He’s walking sex, I can’t blame you one bit. And I support anything you do- shit I highly recommend it. But you…”

“Yeah no, I am not into hooking up. I’m glad you told me but… something about him…” You trail off then, swallowing nervously, as her hands come to your sides, and she hugs you closely.

“I know, it doesn’t mean you can’t talk to him, but you had to know.” She nibbles on a nail then, lashes lowering. “He gives mean backshots, if you go that route.”

“Jenna!” You’re both giggling, and the party goes on then, the two of you smiling and waving as you keep finding each other around the room, soon Jenna is good and sauced, and you know you need to make sure you both get home okay. But you can’t help but stop by Satoru before you go, nervously fidgeting with your hands in front of you.

“Hey sweets, heading out?” He asks softly, a hand coming to grip your wrist, swallowing it with his long fingers, you eye the connection, feeling yourself heat up at it, trying to remind yourself, it’s him ‘dripping sex’ it’s his job. Maybe he thinks you’re pretty enough not to fuck for a shoot, maybe he’d actually like to know you a bit, but her words hit hard.

“Satoru, do you date?” Your words make him pause. “Not me, just in general.”

“Do I date?” He blinks a bit, lips opening, then shutting. “She told you.”

“I would never judge, my best friend does it, if anything I’m envious that you all can just do that.” Your eyes are glimmering just a bit, now his hand slips up your wrist, thumb brushing the delicate veins there, sighing. “I just wanted to clarify that part.”

“I haven’t dated since like college, no.”

“And you’re…”

“Twenty eight.” You nod a bit now, calculating, a good eight years since he’s dated- since he’s been in the industry. “I was enjoying our time.”

“I was too, very much. Got me high you know.” He grins then, and you can’t help but smile back, heart racing in your chest - and you realize it, Jenna is right. What you’re feeling from one meeting could hurt you. “I’d still like to be friends?”

“Friends, hmm?” You nod as he leans down, his other hand pressing against the nip of your waist, pulling you against him, watching the catch of your breath, the dilation of your pupils. You’re biting that lower lip again, a little soft whine in the back of your throat escaping.

“I’d love to be. I really like you, Satoru.” He melts for you then, at your cute little smile, your hand slipping up his chest. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“So did I. Friends, then, I could use some.” He kisses your lips softly, a mere brush, that’s not what friends should feel from a little kiss, right? That ache between your thighs, your pulse racing, as he can’t stop thinking how good you feel in his arms, thinking he’d like you to stay.

“Me too, maybe you’ll make me a stoner, hmm?”

He laughs then, genuine and charming. It’s hard to think of him ‘giving Jenna backshots’ a mix of sweet and charming, you try to remember just that. “So she didn’t have a bad review for me?”

“Quite the opposite, you’re apparently the best in the industry.” The softness and break in your voice makes him pause, usually he’d be cocky about hearing that, but he doesn’t know just how that makes him feel. “I haven’t watched your kind of work, I’m afraid.”

“I didn’t think so. Too obscure.”

“Clearly.” You both laugh softly again, you are leaning back now, taking a breath, trying to remember yourself, but it’s hard when all you can think of is his lips.

“Can I have your number?” Satoru Gojo has never asked for a girl’s number, but he damn near gets giddy when you nod, slipping out your phone, giving it to him then, which he saves under your name.

“I don’t do casual, I’ve never even kissed someone I’m not serious about. Um… but I really had fun.”

That innocent?

He figured close to it but…

“Did I corrupt you so much in one night?”

“Maybe so. I have to get my friend home safe, so I will talk to you sometime?”

“Any time.” He brushes your hair back again, kissing your cheek once more, your eyes shut at how good it feels, sighing.

When you’re gone, Satoru does not like the feeling left.

The rest of the party is dimmed now, he can’t stop thinking about you, about watching you inhale that smoke, about watching your cute, shy little fucking smile, but why would you like him, he fucked your best friend last week. And you’re clearly a good girl, a sweet girl, and that’s what he would do - corrupt you.

But the thoughts of corrupting you start taking over, so intense he can hardly stand it, imagining teaching you everything. How to arch your ass up just right for him, have you cum so hard you’d squirt and drip down his cock, fuck he’d love to watch your eyes roll back in your head, as he hits spots he’s sure no one ever has, cumming so hard you cry pretty tears.

It’s so ridiculous he’s throbbing, and as some of his co-stars come and flirt with him, he can barely give them a little smile, a playful wink, turning down the endless opportunities tonight with one excuse- ‘he’s tired’ - is about all he can come up with. Because what is this!?

What’s the feeling that night when you’re laying in your bed, scrolling through your friend’s OF for the first time, heating up as you scroll, you’ve seen her naked a ton, you’ve taken her pictures, but when you see her bent over, and that sexy white haired man wrapping an arm around her waist? His other hand, wrapped around her throat, and her eyes rolled back?

The scene alone without clicking play is too much, you’re trembling, imagining pressing play, hesitating. You barely know him, but something clicked tonight, you had fun for the first time in forever, but to know that you maybe already developed a crush on someone unattainable seems a cruel joke.

Hopelessly single because you’re so picky, because a lot of time your interests don’t align - how could you like someone who doesn’t think Lord of the Rings is a classic, for example - or if you’re not feeling something. Your friends think you put too much into it, they think you should let go and have fun, and maybe you did, tonight, but that was because of him.

You keep furiously flushing as you go back and forth, thumb hovering over the screen, Jenna wouldn’t care if you saw, and maybe Satoru wouldn’t, but something feels so different to you, so naughty, like inhaling smoke from his mouth tonight. You keep shutting the phone off, then turning it back on, when suddenly you get a text from him.

Satoru - Hope you got home safe, sweets.

He’s sweet, he’s thoughtful, he’s fucking gorgeous and…

He would never date.

It’s a really mean joke someone’s playing on you.

You - Thank you, I did! I hope you did too.

You can’t look at the video! Can you?

Satoru’s laid up in his bed, picturing you, god he can taste your lips on his still, swiping a hand over his face as you send some little emoji, far, far too cute, so cute you make him ache. He wonders then just what is it about you, surely you’re beautiful, but it can’t just be that.

He can’t get you off his mind.

You can’t stop yourself from pressing play.

Your breath catches when you finally do, and you see it, him fucking Jenna, looking right at the fucking camera, a smirk and blue eyes, as he thrusts up inside of her. You don’t enjoy porn, it’s not intimate enough for you- but looking at him makes your cunt throb, you touch it to find it hopelessly drenched, watching him manhandle and flip her like she’s nothing, right on her back.

You watch him put your best fucking friend in a mating press, watch him smack his cock against her tummy, pulling his condom off, cumming on her then. When you get a good look at his pretty pink tip, veiny long cock and ropes of fucking cum, you mindlessly touch your cunt, soaking your sleep shorts, crying out before you catch yourself, cursing.

You shut it off, huffing and yanking the blankets over your face.

It must be… the drinks, the smoke, him, making you act this way. A good book with meaning, a perfect man in your head, that’s what you want, what you need, right? Not whatever he was doing to your mentality, fuck it’s your friend too, how could you ever get wet to that?

“Fuck this.” You grumble, swiping away from your friend’s OF, but the image is firmly burned into your mind, of Satoru moaning with his lips parted, jerking his cock along her in pretty patterns. You pull up your book instead, filling your mind with anything and everything else, when another text pops up.

Satoru - Good night, sweetheart.

You just watched him cum, now you feel horrible, ugh! What is up with you tonight!? He’s probably being friendly and you’re over here touching your sensitive little clit watching him. You struggle to compose yourself, finally having to go wipe up, splashing yourself with cold water in your little bathroom, you dry your hands on a towel, looking at yourself in the mirror for a moment.

You look fucked up.

You finally text him back.

You - Good night, Satoru, sweet dreams.

Satoru can’t stop the dopey smile on his face, cock annoying and throbbing, and instead of letting it get taken care of, he’d just focused on how badly he wanted you, how much he can’t get you off his mind. Fuck just your shampoo and whatever heavenly fucking body spray spritzed on you made him harder to remember, how pretty you’d look in his bed, under him.

‘Friends’, you’d like to be ‘friends’.

Satoru doesn’t think anything in his mind was friend appropriate currently, not when he’s stroking himself, crying out and picturing just peppering your shoulder and neck with kisses, biting you, marking you. Leaving bruises along a perfect neck while you grip his hair, crying out, head falling back. Having your heat he could still feel on his fingers.

As you’re struggling to calm down, Satoru’s giving up, jerking off for the first time maybe in forever alone, sure he does for videos, but he doesn’t have to make himself cum often when everyone was lining up to suck him. But instead he’s stroking a famous cock thinking of a sweet girl with a brown sweater that falls just so, hiding a body he’s dying to know.

As you’re finally asleep, mind racing, he’s cumming ropes into his palm, picturing much better places for this cum- like inside your sweet little cunt - and that’s one thing Satoru Gojo does not do. Trying to come down himself, cleaning up, he looks in the mirror, seeing the pink of his own cheeks, shaking his head then.

He looks fucked up off you.

*****

While you are at work that next monday, sitting at your desk typing away, Satoru Gojo has an entirely different sort of work to accomplish, this time with his costar Sukuna, who he frequently worked with, and the two of them either popped off on each other or competed for who could make the girl squirt the most. Sukuna was currently lapping at the co-star’s cunt with his pierced tongue.

She’s she’s bent over sucking Satoru’s cock with expert suction, and he should be loving it, he’s worked with her before and she is a sweetheart and highly fucking skilled, and this shoot pays extremely well. A win win, even with Sukuna running it, currently at least his mouth was occupied. The director zooms right in, maybe that’s what’s bothering him, the cameras, the bright lighting.

Satoru’s cock is not staying hard, even as she’s choking back moans with the pink haired munch of a man going so intense, her nails gripping Satoru’s thighs so tightly, pressing in. He tries to focus on how it feels, shutting his eyes, but all he can think of is you.

Your lips.

Your eyes.

Those glasses on the bridge of your nose.

How you shift your fucking thighs, heated from desire.

God, he can’t stop thinking of you, what if you saw him on a video? Would it make your surely pretty pussy wet? He’s suddenly hard fully once more, grabbing his co-star’s hair and shoving his cock so deep she’s choking, gasping, but he can’t manage to open those eyes until the director says something then.

“Gojo, the eyes- look at the camera.” He sighs now, they were part of his money, the eyes that no one had, the ones that entranced so many, he manages to open them, eyeing the camera, but instead of his usual smirk there is a pout, and his co-star pulls back, frowning just a bit, as Sukuna pulls away from her cunt, tattooed face glistening.

Amongst the most famous pornstars, Sukuna rivaled Satoru- the alternative, rougher version perhaps to the pretty boy, he slips two fingers in her cunt, and she moans, as he eyes Satoru. “Who’s fucking her first?”

“Me, of course.” Sukuna chuckles, her cunt is so loud it’s squishing and clicking, much to the delight of the director, and Satoru has her on top of him then, as Sukuna guides her onto his cock, slapping her ass loudly. Satoru struggles, gulping as she sinks on him over his condom.

It feels warm and good but…

He can’t even look at her.

She’s bouncing up and down him while Sukuna plays with her from the back, and Satoru forgets he’s even on a set, lips parted in a sigh as he looks away, and realizes he’s gone soft again. “Is something wrong?” She asks softly, he shakes his head now, gripping her hips.

“No, no it’s fine, wanna ride him for me?” She nods, and Satoru then helps her ride Sukuna’s cock, as he kisses down her shoulder, shutting his eyes once more, trying to hide how soft he is and failing.

“Cut.” The director calls, Satoru sighs, as Sukuna moans, yanking her down his length, and her head falls back. “I said cut.”

“We can fuck while we’re waiting for him to get on board.” Sukuna grins up at her as she giggles, and Satoru glares. “Go get a viagra.”

“I don’t need one, fuck it’s just… the lights.”

“Need a break Gojo?” His director asks, and he manages a nod. “Go ahead to the dressing room, we’ll… make sure they are ready to go when you come back.”

“She’ll be fucked out before you get it up.”

“Whatever Sukuna, fuck you.” Sukuna snorts in laughter, Satoru stomps over to the dressing room, cursing then and resting his head against that door, taking several breaths and scowling at his cock. “Work, shit…”

What is this!?

A pretty girl at a party shouldn’t ruin his whole cock, ruin his enjoyment, cloud his goddamn mind, a girl who’s a - friend - what’s his problem!? He’s sitting down on the couch then over a towel, still literally naked, stroking it, once, twice, three times. Nothing helps, the condom hanging just so off his cock, when he grimaces, pulling it off and tossing it in the trash, pulling out his phone, and he pauses at your name.

Satoru - Hey sweets, I don’t have a pic for your caller ID, could you send one?

He tenses as he sees you immediately typing, cock twitching right back to life from three stupid dots wiggling. He bets you’re biting that lip.

You are.

You’re nervous as you look around your quiet workplace, you’re a graphic designer and it’s a little late, so you’re nearly alone, finishing a project, when you see he wrote to you. The man you have not looked back up, but it’s taken every bit of self control not to watch his content, and boy does he have so much, up to and including his own asmr.

That’s dangerous.

He’s dangerous.

Because you could never just enjoy him for who he is, you would want more, fuck you already feel it, the odd sensation knowing he’s likely fucking someone constantly, picturing yourself wildly for a moment with him behind you. Surely you couldn’t be a co-star, you’d flip on camera, too shy, but you keep envisioning it regardless, him choking you as he sinks deep.

Stop that.

You turn in your big black chair, spinning it just a bit, seeing the beautiful soft lighting of the upcoming evening pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows, deciding it’s good lighting. Your chest rises and falls with your nerves, you didn’t know how to be sexy in photos, but do you want to?

You do.

Fuck you do.

You’re leaning back and angling the phone just so, glasses off for a moment on your desk, since they’d been giving you a bit of a headache, throwing a peace sign and parting your lips, you don’t know exactly how to pose. You knew what art was, what beauty was, but a little clueless how to angle yourself like your friend Jenna has always been able to.

After peering through a few photos, brows drawn together in concentration, you send one his way, he’s viewed it and he instantly hearts it, making you exhale, relieved that maybe he thinks it’s cute enough. But little do you know, you have him full hard now, thumb brushing his leaky tip, making him whimper, picturing rubbing his cock right on those pretty lips of yours.

God you’re just in a blouse but he can see your nipples pressing from the material, begging for him to pluck them, suck them, and he can’t stand the longing, the need making his body ache. He curses softly, wiping a sticky thumb on his towel, trying to compose himself, he’s acting like some stupid lovesick boy, not the entire star he knows he is.

And your eyes, eyes he didn’t get a good enough look at, so fucking gorgeous, it’s hard to look away, but as he does, he notices more, your bitten lips, the gentle slope of your neck, the way you have little marks from the pads of your glasses on the sides of your pretty nose. God, all of you is delectable.

Satoru - Gorgeous, thank you. Saved.

You - Thank you, Satoru um, can I have one too?

He smirks now, because if he was good at anything - aside from making women cum - it was taking the perfect selfie. He’s lifting the camera high, showing far too much of his strong chest, his rippled, cut abdomen, down to those v cuts and his veins running just above his snowy white pubic hair. Not his cock, of course, but enough for you to get the idea.

He sends it with a smirk, and you open it with a gasp, eyeing a body you saw somewhat in the shoot, but nothing looks quite like what’s in front of you right now on your screen. He’s got his brilliant eyes bright and lidded, tousled white hair, lips parted just so, making your lips tingle at the memory. You touch them longingly as you study his body, glistening with sweat.

Fuck he’s sexy.

You shift in your office chair, sighing, putting back on your glasses for an even deeper inspection- and since when are you so turned on by looks? You’re into who someone is, of course looks are great, but to have your pussy clenching over a picture is insanity.

And for Satoru to have a raging hard cock over a selfie is batshit insane, but here the two of you are, you saving an obscenely sexual photo, and him saving a demure little picture, both smiling at them. But then you frown a bit, taking in the couch, the lighting, realizing it then.

You - Are you on a shoot?

Satoru - Yes.

Why does that make you feel just a little envious of whoever gets to kiss and touch on him?

Why does it make you a little jealous of who gets him on them, his plump lips on their skin?

You shake it off, smiling tremulously as your hands shake, typing a 

I know you’ll kill it, have fun! Got the pic saved thanks. <3

Satoru leans his head back again, before looking at your photo once more, rushing out before his cock decides not to work again, slipping on another condom. When he’s gripping her hips and smiling at the camera as he does, however, he doesn’t know if he can keep it up, luckily he’s so huge she barely notices, while she’s gushing down his latex covered cock.

He’s encouraging her, pressing his thumb against her clit, while she’s sucking on Sukuna, and he tries to remember how amazing his life is, and focus, surely this is something that will pass. Some infatuation, and he’ll get back to normal in no time, he’s sure of it.

Right?

******

Wrong.

After a string of highly unsuccessful shoots that Satoru’s had to push off on Suguru and Sukuna, he’s decided the only hope for it is to give in and jerk his cock to your pictures. That week you’ve sent others, all cute and innocent, but how do you manage to make him so obsessed? Every pretty inch of skin you show he’d litter with bruises.

Not that there was much skin shown, the plush of your thighs over cute knitted knee high socks, and god you’re as hot with your glasses as you were without, he couldn’t figure out what he liked more. Your shoulders are just a little bare, begging for his teeth to sink into them, since when he is so turned on by hints of skin than soaking wet costars?

The first time he jerks it, he cums so much he knows the best solution, to focus on his solo career, at least until whatever the fuck this is - this obsession - could pass. He’s making bank as he does them, actually, and he can’t help but grin as he’s become the top onlyfans creator, stroking his cock for so many of his fans, all while he can prop his phone up and look at what new selfie you’ve sent.

“Hah- I know, it’s pretty, isn’t it?” He’s winking right at that camera, stroking faster and faster, spitting down on his tip, spreading it with a lewd squishing sound as the comments go insane.

Satoru cum for us!

It’s so pretty

Want a taste

Want it in me

What a win-win, making bank for stroking it to you, all while getting his ego filled by all the comments, he’s stroking his ego with his length, smirking as his free hand uses the mouse to scroll down. “Ah, I know, it’s huge, is it sensitive, mmm… a little bit if I do this.”

He’s twisting just so, eliciting a little cry, when he sees a name pop up, pausing his movements- and you’re staring right at Satoru Gojo’s live stream, heart hammering, worried he’d notice you. His little look of shock confirms it, as his hand finally slides back down his shaft, and your eyes follow the movement, so hungry for him you can’t stand it.

When Jenna teased Satoru had a live stream - she clearly knows now that you are infatuated with him, god he’s all you can think about, daydreaming at work, in your sleep he’s kissing you everywhere with those plump lips. You couldn’t help but talk to Jenna about him again, and she sighed, smiling at you.

“You never know, people change, maybe you two should at least hang out?” You’d repeated it softly, shaking your head. “No?”

“Why would he want to?”

“Well, I heard he’s had no shoots for a bit, and is doing solo things, maybe you could peek?”

You can’t believe you’re on Satoru Gojo’s onlyfans live.

You can’t believe you fucking subscribed to him, too.

And now it’s like he’s looking right fucking at you.

Shit.

He begins stroking his cock once more, murmuring - “I see a new subscriber here, like what you see?”

He’s so pretentious.

But…

You do love it, his veiny cock, which leaks precum on his flat belly button over tense abs, pale thighs spread, muscled and perfect, god all of him was. But something was a little more than just his looks, which sounds insane, but it wasn’t those looks that made you - fuck, lowkey obsessed!?- with him, it was so much more. His eyes elicit far, far too many feelings.

You take a breath for courage, before leaving a comment.

Do you taste sweet everywhere?

Your comment sends him as he reads it, blinking snowy lashes and pausing, while on the other side you’re covering your mouth, panicking- did you really just say that, shit!? You’re taking several breaths, hand on your mouse, ready to leave the chat, as the comments pop off, going insane, asking the question over and over, but Satoru strokes his pretty cock ever so slowly, leaning forward.

He cums when he starts picturing your cute little embarrassed face, he can’t stop himself, knowing you’re watching has him so sensitive, he’s cumming so much it feels so fucking good. His moans are low and gutteral as his cum starts pouring over his slick fist, and you’re watching avidly, breath caught in your chest, heart fucking hammering, so wet it’s dripping through your panties.

You’re on the edge of your seat when he finally opens those blue eyes, to the endless tips pouring in for him, but he’s thinking of just one viewer-

You.

“Do I taste sweet everywhere?” He’s murmuring your name- you’re so dumb to have it as your real name, shit- but the way he chuckles, his eyes going insane as he lifts his hand off his cock then? “Let’s see.”

He’s bringing a white, sticky coated finger to his mouth now, sucking his own milky seed off them, cheeks hollowing as he does, and you can’t help the soft whine that escapes, grinding against your seat, desperate for some fucking friction. He’s insane, surely, you’ve never even thought of it, a man sucking his cum up, it’s so sexy and just obscene it fucks you mentally.

Just who is this freaky ass porn star!?

He’s chuckling now, like he can somehow see your damn reaction from behind the screen, it’s like it’s just you and him, and not a fucking stream full of people, as the tips go insane. The comments are going so quickly he can’t keep up with them, grinning as he sucks more of his cum off another thick, long finger you’d love buried inside of you.

“Hmm, I do taste sweet.” He watches as you tip hundreds, smirking before you log completely off.

He pauses now, you’d had him so fucked up he went full out, he wonders if he’s scared your innocent ass off, sighing now, ending the stream with a laugh and a friendly little good bye, as he always does. He has made so much money it’s stupid, and surely you encouraging his little stunt helped, but now he can’t help but call you after he’s cleaned up the mess you’ve made of him.

You watch the phone vibrate and ring, jumping damn near, covering your hands with your mouth as you see his name, with his half naked fucking picture. Shit, shit, shit…

You slowly pick it up, eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what- did you like the show?” His voice is so arrogant and cocky, but you hear it then, the vulnerability under his layers. “I liked that you joined.”

“You did?” Your voice is practically a squeak, he chuckles a bit, laying back on his bed now, phone against his face.

“I did. Now, what did you think?”

“You’re… really… this is embarrassing!”

“It’s not, I promise. I’m flattered.” You sigh now, leaning back in your seat, wishing the air overhead would cool your overheated skin. “Answer me, be a good girl.”

“Satoru, god.” He’s chuckling, but your nipples are pressing out, taut and needy, cunt gushing so much it’s embarrassing. “I liked it but I never do these things.”

“Then I’m more flattered. I’m taking all your firsts.”

“Stop it, you're so ridiculous.” You’re laughing with him then, softly, shaking your head. “How’d you notice me with all those fans?”

“You certainly stand out.” His husky admittal makes you feel far too much, and the next thing out of your mouth makes you question everything.

“Satoru this is stupid and reckless-”

“Perfect, sounds fun!”

“Hush.” You sigh as he grows quiet, words stuck in his throat, how he’d do anything just to see how you taste. “I watched some of you with Jenna.”

He pauses, heart hammering. “Shit, yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re really good at it, um, pleasing.”

“I love to have a pussy drooling on my fingers,” he’s murmuring so fucking soft now, you’re struggling to compose yourself. “My mouth, my cock, fuck my whole face soaked, I love it.”

“Oh?”

He’s chuckling again. “Oh. Cute.”

“Shh. Give me a moment, what if you showed me some things? Off camera, please, I could never-”

“Huh!? What!?” You’re panicking again, embarrassed as he can’t believe his fucking ears.

A chance with you?

Fuck.

“Sorry it’s so rude- that’s your job, and I know you don’t date, but I thought maybe since I feel so comfortable-”

“You feel comfortable with me?” His words are softer now, your eyes shut, sucking in a breath.

“Very. Oddly comfortable, and well I’ve only been with one person, I am sitting here waiting for some romance book love I guess? It’s stupid.”

“Why’s it stupid?” He frowns as he leans his head against his mirror now, standing and trying to pull himself together, cock leaking already thinking of you in his bed.

“I don’t know if it’ll happen but, you’re so sweet and gorgeous and… I’m going on too much.”

“Just say what you want, sweetheart.”

“You to show me things.” You’re shutting your eyes again, waiting for the rejection, but he shocks you once more.

“Then I’ll send a car to get you.”

“Now!?”

“It’s LA, it’ll be thirty minutes at least, if you live where you said, over by that coffee shop on Main right?”

“You remember?”

Of course he does.

“You wanna learn, sweetheart? I’ll teach you anything.”

“Like, free?” He’s chuckling again, the sound so genuine it just makes the ache grow, you’re crazy for this, right?

“Yes free, you’re adorable. Okay then send your address and get ready. Eat something, drink something with electrolytes.”

“Wha-!?” He’s smirking as he eyes his shower, surely he has enough time to wash up for you first.

“Gonna need energy, sweetheart. Lots of it.”

When you’re standing there at the door of Satoru Gojo’s penthouse, and he leans down, his hand on the doorway, veins bulging from his bare arm, hair tousled and still damp, you know it then. When he brushes fingers across your damp hair, bringing it to his nostrils and inhaling your scent, you know it more. But especially when he tilts your chin up, and murmurs - come in.

He’s going to hurt you, but you’ll enjoy the pain.

Ahhh I can't believe all the love the hcs got, like that blew me away, I SO hope you love this, and will enjoy where these two go! I always say - oh this will be four parts- but they always go longer so lol. I hope you all enjoyy I'm so excited to hear what you think! Taglist is closed bc it's so long I'm sorryyy

Taglist 1 - @rjreins @juicu @kalulakunundrum @gojoswaterbottle @aldebrana @simp-plague @wedojustbevibin @lucciferr0 @officialholyagua @privthemis @coffee-and-geto @homesickes @msniks @emi311 @mai-505 @gojoslovelylover @ren-ren23 @yihona-san06 @emochosoluvr @sylvermoon @bunheadusa @karvokr @starmapz @queenexplosonmurderr @musiclover2119 @saitamaswifey @reagan707 @midorissi @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @itsinherited @maisiefrancesca @gyarubunny @theonlyhonoredone @chosslut @simperisksksk @xlilycoco @howlsdarling @femaholicc @maymaymarch @miseryyouth-99 @swoozleee @zeunys @cryingdevil @leafynightmares @princess-bblgm @gojosconsort @insomnicshello @joonunivrs @myahfig4 @silviscosplay

dilf!nanami x virgin!f!reader (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

nanami shoving his big cock in your tight little pussy :( you two met at a bar the other day, you’re barely twenty one and he’s already in his early forties.

imagine his shock when he finds out you’re still a virgin at twenty one?! he stifled in a laugh at that, he didn’t want you to think he was making fun of you. you guys ended up hitting it off that night and started to meet each other more, from coffee dates to small pecks on the lips.. and the age gap didn’t seem to bother either of you, if anything you were into it way more than he was.

then you finally give him the words he’s been waiting to hear, that you want him to take your virginity.

and as he expected, you were as tight as a vice. he said he’d be gentle with you, (unfortunately he promised you) but he wanted to fuck you hard already. “such a pretty pussy, baby,” he coos, his voice is so perfect. deep, soft. just like how he was entering you.

“s-slow, please,” you mumble, your hand coming up to grab his, interlocking fingers tightly. his eyes almost melted at the sight of your beautiful expression, the way your breath hitched and the way your hand was sweaty. “i’ll be slow, promised you, remember?” he watches his thick cock go inside you inch by inch, you could feel yourself getting stretched out. it was oddly pleasurable yet a bit painful as he pushed deeper.

he watches you nod your head and bite your lip, before speaking up again. “let me hear your voice pretty girl, that was our deal right? i want to hear all your sounds.” his free hand that was guiding his cock in your walls came to rub your inner thigh softly, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on your plushness.

“feels good yeah? say it feels good for me honey,” he talks again, you nod your head, “feels good, you.. you feel really good,” that makes him smile.

you can feel his shaft deep inside you now, but not fully bottomed out yet, and you wondered how big he truly was.

a few moments later of slowly pushing alllll the way in, he bottomed out, and he let out a deep groan at the way you felt. “you’re perfect, y’know that?” he whispers.

he disconnects his hand from your own, earning a soft whine from you that made him chuckle. he grabs your calf’s softly with both his huge hands and scoots you closer, lifting your body up so he can have better access as he puts your ankles on his shoulders. “this is much better..” he hums.

“you can move now,” you finally say after a minute of adjusting to his size. and what went from moving slowly became him thrusting into you a bit more roughly, if it was up to him he’d have you on your knees, spanking your gorgeous ass as he praises you, but this was nice too- especially because he loved the way those moans escaped your pretty lips and he knew this was what he wanted, what he needed.

© damsalindistress - do not plagiarize / translate my work

i got too lazy to finish it but dilf nanami supremacy !!

There's overprotective, and there's Suguru Geto.

"Ah- you'll hurt your eyes, baby, let me handle it"

You're just about to start dicing your onion when Suguru comes up from behind you –fully enveloping you in his warmth– and gently rests his palm on the back of your clenches hand before prying the knife away.

"And this" He runs one long finger along the edge of the blade, from heel to tip "is too sharp for you"

..That damn tone.

Suguru only speaks to you this way when he's about to succumb to the voices, the ones that tell him to scoop you up to hold you in his palm forever, to lock you inside his rib cage and keep you warm, to hold you in his arms and never loosen his grip. You know your faith is set when he begins to rub his cheek against yours, a mother lioness and her little cub.

Smothering.

You have reason to believe that Suguru seriously considers baby proofing the house in its entirety.

"Suguru..." Your disappointed expression only gives him more fuel and now he's audibly cooing at you. How sweet, the precious little baby kitten in his palm, pouting so sweetly, how can you have the nerve to go around being so adorable and acting all bothered when he finally gets his hands on you?

"I'll handle the rest, you should take a rest, baby"

He'll handle the rest? Seriously??

"Suguru, i haven't even started anything yet" you whine, and it's enough to make him run a hand through your hair before pushing you against his chest with one large hand on the back of your head.

Bastard, he knows what he's doing.

Your world shifted the day Suguru learned that his chest can also be a tranquilizer.

Your tense figure immediately relaxes, the rumbling laughter you feel run through his chest tells you all you need to know, and it being that you have once again, lost.

"There you go.." comes an almost taunting coo "isn't this so much better? I like you best this way" And it really, really does, it feels amazing, it feels wonderful being fussed over this much, cared for like this, coddled like a fragile little baby.

"I got here just in time, what if you got hurt, hm? I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if my baby was harmed and i wasn't there to stop it" the whispering voice of a siren, how you managed to stand your ground this long is a mystery to you, Suguru is a force to be reckoned with.

So you put up with it, and let him have his fun, let him play the role of the sweet doting overprotective husbans, because like this, everyone wins and everyone is happy, he gets to care for you, you get to be cared for, perfect.

Aren't you both just a match made in heaven?

the house was quiet today.

it wasn't rare, but this kind of quiet was different. still. heavy. soft in a way that made your chest ache.

sukuna sat on the couch, one arm curled protectively around your newborn daughter, her tiny body pressed against his chest. she wore the tiny knitted hat you picked out—white with kitten ears—and strands of her soft pink hair peeked out from beneath it, sticking up since they refused to behave.

his other hand held a crumpled piece of paper, gifted with pride by the small artist on a sugar-high right now, bouncing around the living room. your son, still learning how to pronounce his "r"s, had grinned wide with his toothless mouth and yelled, "i drew us!" before dashing off to play again.

sukuna stared at the drawing, red eyes darting around the paper like he was analyzing every detail. or trying to make sense of whatever a four-year-old could manage to draw.

three stick figures, one labeled "me," with messy hair, a big open mouth, and two teeth missing from the middle. another labeled as "mommy," in a giant, triangular pink dress with stars and hearts all over, holding a little pink scribble labeled as "sister," and "daddy"— huge, lopsided, four arms, fangs, and "ROAR" scrawled next to his head in red crayon.

you sat down beside him, resting your chin on his shoulder. "he's so proud of it."

"...i look like a demon," he muttered, eyes still locked on the page.

"you are one, sometimes." you teased gently, "but he still thinks you're the coolest."

he went quiet again, then exhaled. something unsteady in his breath. "i didn't want this," he admitted quietly, his voice low like he confessed to something awful. "didn't think i had it in me. didn't think i'd be any good."

you glanced down at the way he was holding your daughter. soft. careful. his thumb brushing over the rim of her hat, her pink hair catching the light.

"you're better than good, su. they adore you." you said, your own expression softening as you ran your fingers through his hair.

you kissed his arm, right above where your daughter's tiny hand was curled in his skin.

"you're doing good, daddy," you whispered. "even if you do look like a monster in crayon."

he chuckled, and the sound was raw. honest. he pressed the drawing to his daughter's back like a shield and held her just a little tighter.

"she's never gonna draw me like that," he muttered. "right?"

you smiled. "nope. she'll make you a princess."

"...i'd frame it."