The Spider’s Sense! A Spidercaleb Series.

kids are silly nowadays, calling a plane their life when in fact their life is sitting just beside them. smh

Hey baby,

I don’t know if you are missing me right now, but by the time you read this letter, I’ll be missing you quite much.

Sensei called me at the last minute for a mission in Kyoto, said it’s probably a low-level curse, but I feel that we’ll be taken by surprise again. I feel like I attract different special curses everywhere I go. I’m getting really famous, don’t you think? (sos)

It’s okay, though. The more I defeat, the more I help.

Please don’t worry about me while I’m gone, kay? I feel like I’ve never had such control over my power as I do now. And it makes me happy to think that one day, I’ll be powerful enough to beat Sukuna's arse and become a powerful sorcerer. Just like you told me, right baby?

Since I’ll stay away for a while, I wanted to leave this letter and remind you of three things:

1- Believe in yourself. Whatever you go through, know that you are capable, and full of potential baby. If someone lies to you saying otherwise, text me the name of the idiot. I’ll handle them myself when I get back.

2- Take care of yourself. I don’t like seeing you work to exhaustion, but since I won’t be there to carry you back to your dorm, I want you to promise me that you’ll rest. I mean it, okay? If I find you looking like an old panda, I won't let you work for a week!

3- I love you. I love you so, so much baby, please don’t ever forget that. You’re the girl of my dreams, and will always be. I’m sad that I had to leave you, you know I need my daily cuddles, right?

(oh man, you really got me wrapped around your finger)

I promise you that I’ll finish this mission, and come back to you. Maybe not in one piece, but I promise I’ll try.

I’ll see you soon, baby.

With love, 

Yuji.

ps: one of your scarves accidentally made it to my bag. Hope you don’t mind!

i’m sick

you’re unsure how he can look at you like this and not feel the same as you.

bodies bare, clothes scattered around his bedroom. lips plump and dry from being kissed so many times. you both lay on top of the covers, wrapped so tight in each others arms, his fingers always sneaking to link with yours. you keep your head on his bicep, the perfect spot to stare up into his eyes and guess what he’s thinking.

or really to wonder how he can stare at you with his thick stone walls down, his lips slightly parted like he will duck down for a kiss at any time, his eyes slightly drooped from his orgasm a few minutes ago. his arms are looped around your back, pressing you with no air between and you wonder perhaps the reason you’re overanalysing everything is to commit it all to memory. soon enough you’re going to be in the uber back to your home and he’s not going to be yours again. just a contact in your phone that maybe you text a little too much and although you’ve been seeing this man for months, you’re still unsure what he wants. and you’re too scared to ask incase it’s not what you want to hear.

he presses a kiss to your cheek, it’s so innocent it makes you laugh so he presses another, then another just so you get louder and as he pulls away you first think why, why why don’t you want me? how can you do this and not want me? then you wonder if he’s kissed all the makeup off your face.

a thick finger traces your spine as he lays on his back, bringing your body with his like there’s no choice that if he’s moving, you are too. another comfortable position, your thigh across his legs, a perfect position for you to sink your teeth into his pecs. he begins to talk about himself. often, you both drift to childhood. wonder if you’d be friends, in the same classes. if you can still see you at fifteen inside you now and staring at him, you know your answer is yes. the deep longing, yearning to be liked by a pretty boy still burns inside you now, in fact you think you hear her scratching the walls for you to beg him to tell you everything he has ever thought of you. but you don’t since you’re older now. you just nod and reply how you miss her.

you share a tidbit about your family, a follow up part from what you told him about through text. your father randomly bought cats and he asks why don’t you go visit them. he stares at your lips when he asks before flicking up to your eyes to read your expression. there’s still a few things he doesn’t know about you which is okay. you’d let him in if he let you. you know later your friend will tell you how can you share your body with somebody and be to scared to share your mind but she doesn’t get it and it feels like you’re the only person to go through this age old, what are we? do you want something serious? i think i like you more than you like me.

it’s time to go home because he has work early tomorrow and then some athletic class in the evening. it reminds you that you need to keep busy too, because clearly he doesn’t spend every waking hour thinking about you like you do about him. you’re pulling your clothes back on, thinking about getting into crochet while he lays in bed and stares at the bending of your limbs. you catch him and frown, so he says you’re beautiful. truthfully you believe him, in some capacity you know he thinks you’re not ugly. or maybe that’s stupid, you know he thinks you’re pretty. but you can’t accept it wholly because if he thinks you’re oh so beautiful, staring like you’re a piece of art, why doesn’t he want you? why isn’t he begging you keep you in his bed, willing to be late tomorrow because even though you wake up on time, you spent way too long kissing?

so you just shake your head, foregoing a thank you to scan the way he shifts around to pull on his underwear. he doesn’t ask why you stare, it feels as if he always knows what you’re thinking but he never mentions it. he asks if you’ve ordered your uber yet and you’re unsure if he’s simply just asking or he’s now kicking you out his house. if you knew he wanted you, a label on what you are, you think moments like these would be easier. then you know he’d want you to come back as soon as. you make another mental note after starting crochet to distance yourself from him. let’s see how long that will last.

he kisses you goodbye once the car is outside at 3:17am and your feet are shoved in your shoes. you rest your hand on his cheek during the kiss, pressing your lips to his knowing the next time you do this you’ll probably still be in the same spot. confused and out of control.

when you finally step out his front door he tells you to text him when you’re home. you reply that he will be asleep and you ignore how he says “so?”

once you climb into your uber, not turning around to check if he’s still at the door because you know he won’t be, you think about crying. you have before in an uber so that won’t be anything new. instead you sit, thinking about him and the god awful radio station the drivers put on.

when you’re finally home, pyjamas on and climbing into bed, you get a text.

him: Home?

you: yes

Welcome to Dan and Phil Games.

alexander mcqueen models @amazingphil @danielhowell

reblogs are appreciated, thank you twitter | redbubble

smile for the camera! — ft. k. bakugo x fem!reader

katsuki bakugo is tricked into smiling during an interview when they bring up your name!

you didn't notice it at first, but katsuki bakugo developed smile lines after meeting you.

he didn't smile much as a kid. most of his baby pictures consisted of him either crying, screaming, or making some sort of vulgar gesture at the camera. it only got worse as he entered his teen years. his temper calmed down a bit, sure. but the chances of catching katsuki bakugo smiling were as rare as catching lightening in a bottle.

the paparazzi were well aware of the famous dynamight barely having any pictures of him smiling out on the internet—there were three singular photos out there that consisted of him with a somewhat pleased expression on his face, and the only reason he looked that way was because you were in frame right beside him.

it seemed to be a well known fact that getting bakugo to smile was nearly impossible—but the current interviewer sitting in front of bakugo was determined.

"great explosion murder god dynamight—or, well, just dynamight sir—what would you say is your favorite part about being a hero?"

katsuki stops himself from rolling his eyes, already anticipating the rest of the interview's questions as he answers flatly

"the glory. the strength. and kicking ass—make that the first thing, actually."

"okay! now, i'd like to ask you a few more things..." the young woman chirps up, and katsuki sighs and tells her to continue. the next dozens of questions were just as he'd predicted—stuff like asking who his biggest inspiration was, what kind of merch his team would be putting out in the upcoming months, and what he thought his weaknesses were.

"—and i don't have weakness. i'm fucking perfect, ask anybody. now, are we done here?" he snaps, rolling his shoulders as he moves to stand up, eyes flitting towards the exit with nothing but disinterest

he'd spent an entire hour answering these stupid questions when he could've been out fighting villains, finishing up his paperwork, literally anything else would be more time fulfilling than answering baseless questions like these ones.

the interviewer's eyes widen when katsuki stands up from his seat, stretching his arms above his head with a grunt before she quickly interrupts him

"what about your wife!"

"....eh?"

"your wife!" she says, quickly collecting herself

"could you tell us about her? it seems like many of your fans are interested in learning more regarding you two! you have a very private relationship, so it's only natural for people to be curious!"

katsuki blinks, absorbing her words. slowly, his feet—once pointed towards the exit—shift ever so slightly towards the woman

"well...what do you want to know?"

and that's how katsuki found himself sitting in the same seat another hour later. except this time, he had the dorkiest grin ever plastered on his face.

"oh i knew i wanted to marry her the first time she yelled at me—she was pretty feisty back in our ua days. still is, but now all the insults she throws my way usually have the word babe or honey added at the end. she has a clever mouth, i'm warnin' ya—you don't wanna get into an argument with her."

the interviewer laughs, and katsuki decides he might come back to this station another time if they asked. he's... well, simply put, having fun.

he leaves after another forty minutes, only because his manager literally dragged him out of the room—he had a meeting to attend and then his patrol—but he left waving at the camera crew and in a far more better mood than he'd arrived in.

katsuki spends the rest of the day getting through all of his hero duties, the interview slowly being pushed to the back of his mind as he focuses on finishing all his work and coming home to you.

it's nearly nine pm when he opens the door to your shared apartment—groaning about how tired he was and how you better not be asleep—when he hears your padded feet running towards the main entryway to greet him

"you're home!"

he offers you a slanted grin, opening his arms for a hug

"missed ya today," he mutters, pressing a kiss onto your scalp as you peer up at him with a grin—looking a little too happy.

"what're ya cheesing so hard about?"

you hum, tapping the back of his thigh with a knowing grin

"your ma called me. guess what she told me?"

katsuki groans, shrugging off his gauntlets and boots before tugging you towards the couch in the living room, flopping onto it while mumbling under his breath and pulling you towards his chest

"you two devils were probably gosspin' about me, that old hag better not have sent you any pictures or i swear—"

"she told me to turn on the tv and head to channel seven."

katsuki pauses, staring at you with furrowed brows. well, it couldn't have been him on channel seven, right? he didn't have any crazy villains to deal with for once, so it wouldn't make sense for him to be on one of the main channels today.

"what..."

he smacks his forehead with an embarrassed groan when you pull out your phone and show him your recording of his interview. you're practically bouncing on the couch beside him with glee as you shove the screen in his face

"you're smiling! they made it the cover of their video, too—gosh you look so cute when you smile! and you're talking about me!"

katsuki huffs, but watches you play back the video with a cheesy grin on your face. your round eyes are illuminated by the screen, and you re-watch the video with your lips parted in awe

"you got the real thing right in front of you but you'd rather watch that...i see how it is." he grumbles, something similar to a pout forming on his face when you still don't acknowledge him—too busy watching his video as you bring the phone closer to your face

"i'm going to screenshot your smiling face in this video and make it my profile picture on insta—"

he snatches the phone out of your hand, powering it off before tossing it aside and wrapping his strong arms around your waist in an iron grip

"i'll make that one of you snoring and drooling all over my chest my profile picture if you even think about it."

"i'm pretty sure half the comments on that video literally have your smiling face as their profile picture."

"...well that's a lot of people i'm gonna have to sue."

MC is stronger than me because if I grew up with a 6’2”, Greek god golden boy wonder who only has eyes for me, there’s no way I’d be letting him slip through my fingers.

#THE GRUDGE! g. satoru

☆ sum. perhaps screwing your ex-husband while the kids are out trick-or-treating wasn’t the best idea. but with him, the only treat he wants to trick is not in a basket—it’s right between your legs.. boo!

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, ex-husband gojo, mentions of (2) kids, unprotected, pwp, mild hatefùcking, kakashi references eheh, gojo's still whipped, filthy dirty talk, prone bone, praise, implied bréeding, cunnīlingus / face sītting, bóob fondling, possessive themes, size kink, overstim, brat taming, fıngering, squırting, petnames.

➤ kinktober mlist

at the gojo’s, you mentally smack yourself as your feet step onto the scream-themed door mat that reads ‘step if you dare.’ part of you wished no one would answer the doorbell, but part of you solely wished he didn’t answer. it was about seven thirty at night, and with it being saturday, you had the kids for a few days. after that, you’d switch with satoru—your jeering hot-headed ex-husband. you decided since you got off early you’d take them trick-or-treating for a bit. but it’s to your utmost ‘surprise’ that satoru opens the door.

“oh! and who are you supposed to be pretty lady?” he’d hum, digging his hands into his pockets. satoru purposely tilts his head down, getting a good look at you while raising a brow. of course, he always went out for his costumes. this year, he’s wearing some sort of green flak jacket, a mask, and a long-sleeved shirt underneath with dark blue pants.

with a grump, you tuck your arms underneath your pits with your purse clinging onto your shoulder. “myself,” and your eyes flicker toward his messy frosted hair that’s spikier than usual. satoru’s wide headband partially droops below his left eye before you finish mumbling, “who are you even supposed to be.”

“uh, kakashi hatake. the man, the myth, the legend,” and satoru leans back against the front door, pulling out a fake kunai. a hand runs through his hair before he snickers at your unamused expression. tough crowd. “aw, you must be here for the kids, yeah? well, they’re out with nanami ‘n suguru trick-or-treatin’. just some blocks down,” and satoru stepped a few feet back once you trod your way inside, mutely cursing yourself that you’d probably have to wait until they got back. as long as they were with nanami and suguru—you didn’t have a problem. satoru shuts the timber wooden-made door behind him before speaking smugly. “oh. sure.. sure, just make yourself right at home, wifey.”

“don’t call me that.”

“just did.”

oh, brother.

the moment you stepped foot into your old spacey luxurious townhome satoru had built personally for you and your kids—the memories all came crawling back. the two of you didn’t end off on a bad note—divorces happen, and you both maintained a healthy relationship with the kids. you each agreed to co-parent, you’d get the week and he’d get the weekend - sometimes switching and vice versa.

“excuse the mess,” satoru hums, grabbing your coat. he tosses it over his shoulder before giving you another up-down glance. “if i knew you were comin’ over around this hour i’d clean a bit,” and he watches you struggle to keep eye contact. “hey. sweetheart, you’re lookin’ down again.”

with a scoff, you meet his gaze again. and fuck, does he look like he’s gotten even more handsome.

satoru gojo was always attractive—there was no doubt about it.

he was in his mid-thirties now, the two of you had settled down after college before having two kids of your own.

again, there wasn’t a reason for your divorce that was relatively a bad thing. you two just both decided to part ways - but of course, it was lots of unprovoked tension.

the costume that he wore was apparently based on some character named ‘kakashi’ whatever, and like always, he dressed the part. every year once the end of october would come around, satoru would wear an outfit just ‘cause. he stood tall, with serrated white hair that was jagged from all angles with the headband hanging off a side of his eye. in the middle part, the symbol was some kind of swirl that was never-ending.

satoru rambled to you that it was something . . something, a hidden leaf—honestly, you tuned out.

he wore the mask part too, covering up a good portion of his face from the nose down, and even had the red slanting scar that kakashi had near the left side of his eye that was probably makeup.

“i don’t wanna fight, gojo.”

“hmph. so it’s ‘gojo’ now,” he rolls his eyes, hanging your coat up near the rack. you take a quick peer around the room, seeing a plethora of toys and multicolored legos everywhere. it nearly makes you smile, remembering when satoru stepped on one of his youngest daughter’s legos. satoru leans against the glassy kitchen island, watching you take a seat near the crimson-red stool before humming. “and i don’t wanna fight either. in fact, i jus’ wanna talk.”

“so . . talk then,” you murmur, shifting your weight in your feet.

a brief smile creases against both sides of his lips before he grins. “soooo,” and it’s an awkward pause. you eye your ex-husband and he’s got somewhat of a bashful expression. rimy eyes of his dart toward your hand—your fingers specifically before he slyly coos. “i see you’re still wearin’ your wedding ring.”

shit.

he had a point.

after all this time, you still had your ring on. satoru did too—he also kept his ring on all the time, happily flashing it in front of countless numbers of women who’d try to hit on him.

you honestly don’t know why you still held on to it, let alone wear it, and to your surprise—you thought he’d stop wearing his those long seven months ago when the two of you officially split.

you bit the inside of your cheek before letting off a snarky, “shut up.”

satoru nearly snickers before he leans up close to you, only a few inches away. he’s so close that you get a loud wafting whiff of his citrusy cologne.

you remember the exact brand too, and it wasn’t exactly cheap either. he’d buy at least a dozen whenever the two of you went out shopping together - well, used to.

there’s so much tension between you both that you could cut it with a knife - the tension was thick, and the awkward dull pauses only made it even more intense.

there’s an annoying voice in your brain that’s screaming at you to just screw it - screw him, make up for lost time, and just . . . kiss him.

you did want to kiss satoru, and your eyes found themselves glancing toward his pearly pink lips that were almost always naturally glossed.

satoru’s eyes intently lock against yours for a few seconds before he casually brings a thumb up to the corner of your mouth, wiping away a bit of your lip gloss before cooing huskily. he expects you to pull away, but you don’t— in fact, you lean into his touch. once he notices, the only thing he replies with is a playful curt utter of,

“make me.”

so you do, but . . not in the way he expected.

not that satoru gojo was ever a man to complain though, especially with you.

and that’s when he found himself in quite a lewd predicament. satoru’s laid back against his cushiony padded mattress with you straddling his perfectly sculptured chin. a gloved hand of his grip near your right hip before he strums a thumb down your sopping wet entrance.

glossy - it’s prettier like he’s never seen it, and he can’t help but lick his lips like an animal preparing to feast the second you start to smear yourself against his chin.

“y’knowww baby, when you told me to shut up i didn’t think you meant sitting on my f—mmph,” and you cut him off mid-sentence by softly planting your cunt back on his mouth.

satoru grunts, bringing his free hand to wrap around the other unoccupied corner of your waist. he grunts, dipping his tongue inside before the familiar taste comes crawling back to his spiraling tastebuds. your taste, he missed your sweetness . . almost as much as he missed you.

as you sweetly moan within each dragging second, you glance down at him with hazed-blown pupils. shifting your wobbly weight and knees against his face, you start to feel his stubble rub on your skin. it almost tickles - but oh, you weren’t laughing.

his tongue had you doing quite the opposite.

“f- fuck,” you huff out, already starting to feel the plunging heaves of your stomach commence. sure, this was probably a bad idea, and sure, you and him probably needed to have an actual conversation at some point but now - you didn’t care about words.

you didn’t care about anything, and part of you kind of missed him.

perhaps his tongue was a majority reason for that part, and each time he rummages inside the deep secluded parts of your pussy, you let off cute individual mewling whimpers. satoru’s always been skilled, and he knew just how to please you.

his tongue always knew how to remind you of how much it’s missed its favorite meal.

curl after fucking curl, he’s leisurely spelling out letters and shapes and symbols with his tongue, taking every few seconds to swallow. satoru groans against your slobbering cunt, feeling you briefly thrust up against his nose and he can’t help but smell your tangy glacé coated sex.

it’s pleasantly sweet, and for a moment, scintillating blue eyes meet back up toward you. “h- heh, ‘s this why you came over? to shut me up ‘n use my fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart?”

“god, you talk t.. too much,” you moan, grabbing a fistful of his hair. in a way - that was true.

satoru was the definition of a blabbermouth.

he’d just talk and talk and talk . . yapping your ear off until you shut him right up in the best (and his personal favorite) way possible - sitting on his pretty face.

a pompous grin stretches across each corner of his lips whilst his jaw’s already dripping due to your slick that paints near the outer crevices of his thin lips. slow, it starts to slowly trickle down his chin at a snail-like pace, creating a shimmery coat of gloss that dribbles underneath his slack mandible.

satoru lays his long pointed tongue flat - savoring every single drop before he’s starting to suck against your clit.

“oh! fuck, right there ‘toru, riiiight there,” and he’s just sloppy. the mask part of his costume was pulled down to his neck as he was using his upper and bottom lip to munch against your sobbing pussy at irregularly paced intervals. your legs failed to stay still and you could already feel the carnal slope of your back starting to form an obtuse-like arch. “fuck, fuckin’ spit on it, ‘toru. pleasepleaseee.”

cute.

you’re calling him ‘toru again, and it makes him cockily grin knowing it was his tongue’s doing.

“wifey’s still as nasty as ever,” satoru whispers against your leaky folds, sliding a thin middle finger near your wet entrance. with a loud ‘psh’ you end up gushing out a bit abruptly and you whine loudly. your thighs rapidly snap together as you blink thrice, feeling his swollen lips glue against your pussy. “mmh, still a wet girl too. my wet girl.” you peek down at satoru who’s the literal epitome of the word smug.

he’s smearing his entire face against your teary slabbering cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right back up again.

you missed his nasty mouth - badly, and it makes your eyes shamelessly roll backward as you start to frailly rut your rickety hips into his mouth.

satoru brings two willowy fingers toward your slit before sliding the icy jewel rock of his wedding ring against your dribbling cunt.

wet, you were soaked and you let off shivering labored breaths once he started to toy with your saturated slick entrance.

with widened doe eyes, you meet his esurient-filled gaze and he hums at you. “listen to how damn wet she is,” he huffs, and you moan at the ridiculously drenching sounds of your pussy. he’s playing with you from between your thighs, chin still dripping with insane amounts of your syrupy juices. “mhm, i know, i know,” and you feel the feeble weight of your thighs quiver the second he’s focusing his attention primarily on your cunt now and not you.

all six eyes were fixated between your legs—

satoru strums the pad of his thumb down your drooling slit before gradually rolling his tongue from top-to-fucking-bottom.

he’s nasty, slithering the tip of his tongue everywhere until your toes curl and you’re letting off the cutest shrilling sounds. satoru even starts to spell out ‘m-a-r-r-y m-e’ and as lewd as it was, he’s proposing to your pussy. he needed you, and satoru knew the both of you divorcing was nearly inevitable, but he missed you.

he especially missed the way you tasted - so sweet, he could eat you out for hours even with his jaw sore ‘n locked. satoru’s a pussy pleaser, making you draw out sweet cries of more as he slurps you clean, his tongue occasionally sliding toward your puckering hole.

“satoru… ngh,” you whimper, the grip of your hand against his hair getting stronger. you’re fucking his face, grinding your slick against his mouth while watching his pretty frosty lashes flap. you’re squelching profusely, and each sloshing slosh of your pussy makes his dick twitch in his pants. “goddd, ‘m gonna cum. make me cum, fuck.”

“let’s see what she thinks,” he purrs, lustrous polished lips flushing into a pearly coat of clear once he licks them. satoru’s entirely pussy drunk, and you shudder once he slowly inserts a lanky middle finger. with a loud ‘pop!’ sound, it dexterously slides itself in, rummaging past the tight ring of your entrance.

fuck, he had such long fingers.

you almost forgot - satoru always joked with you how being ‘the strongest’ came with having six-inch fingers and he wasn’t fucking kidding . .

“hm, should my baby cum? does she deserve it?” and your lips curl up into a pout. he’s serious, having an entire conversation with your pussy. you moaned, maintaining a stiff grip on his hair before satoru started to smear circles against your cunt.

again, you’re just wet. your slickness amused him and satoru can’t help but playfully pat your pretty soddened pussy with the center of his palm once he doesn’t get a reply. the only reply he does get is the cute sloshing sounds that repeatedly gush between your poor quivery thighs.

you’re slowing yourself against his mouth as you straddle him, whimpering at the feeling of his thin digit piercing its way inside of you. you’re close, and you can feel yourself glitching and spasming the second the tip of his finger grazes past your g-spot.

already, he’s located it like ‘x’ marks the spot. your jaw was dropped, and you were on the verge of euphoric death.

satoru stretched your cunt out perfectly with just one finger, and sure . . you’ve had your fair share of intimacy with your ex-husband, but fuck did it always feel like the first time.

you couldn’t help but start to drool a bit, weakly rutting your hips against his face as you’re leisurely getting closer to the brink of your edge.

it’s carnal, you’re stupidly crisscrossed with your eyes flickering back and forth like turning signals before satoru starts to playfully nibble against your cunt again. this time though, he’s adding in another finger and the spongy pressure that’s being played with inside of you earns out a sweet honeyed gasp that sounds like a breathy shriek!

“toru, sato—fuck, ‘m cumming, ‘m gonna cum,” and your words repeated themselves over and over. you’re like a broken recurrent record on a looping vinyl. your cunt continues to sloppily rest against his perfect crooked lips the entire time as you’re blissfully coming undone.

satoru’s staring at you the entire time, practically undressing you with his eyes. he grunts, spotting how your perked nipples noticeably prodded through your silvery blouse. “ugh, fuuuck.” and it hits you like a crashing wave that slams its way into shore.

satoru’s still heartily pumping two slender digits in and out of your splashing cunt whilst you gush right on him, weak defeated hips losing their stability.

you were whimpering, tasting your candied orgasm on your tongue—it felt that good to where it’s like you could taste every nerve against your salivated tastebuds.

only satoru could make you cum on his tongue like this. you were speechless - frantically panting as you released your hand from his ghostly white strands. he’s still leaking your juices from the crannies of his lips before he exhales deeply.

“yeaaah, atta girl. lay it on me,” and you moan as he’s still sliding his long tongue in between the sopping folds of your sensitive cunt, gradually pulling out his lengthy digit pillars of fingers. “fuck, y’r so hot when you try ‘ta put me in my place, sweetheart.”

“stop talking,” you pant, getting off of him. satoru raises a pallid brow, and he grows amused once you suddenly push him to lie flat against his back. with a raspy ‘ugh’ he lands back against the velvet-colored pillows, a sly smirk marinating against his complacent features.

like a slut - he merrily manspreads just for you, long legs spread wide apart with a huge bulge sticking out of his pants.

he’s still got the shinobi headband on, part of it slumping down his left eye. “oh, what’s this?” he lowly gruffs, eyeing you from head to toe again.

this time though, it’s more sensual. satoru’s taking in every piece of fabric that’s protecting your skin, watching as you slowly undress yourself.

he could feel his boner excruciatingly rubbing against his pants the more he watched. he’s taking in your appetizing presented curves . . so pretty. especially after having two kids - his kids.

“gonna ride me, yeah?” he jibes, continuing once you were now left in nothing but a matching set of panties and bra.

coincidentally - the colors matched his exact eye color, and satoru always had a thing for you wearing clothes that matched his eyes. but like always, he just kept on talking. he was too cocky for his good, and maybe one more fuck was just what you needed. what you both needed.

just . . one . . more,

right?

well, that’s what you told yourself.

but all that went out the window the second you’re aligning yourself on his cock. satoru takes a sharp three-second breath, ogling at your every move. it’s like a game of chess. he’s waiting for you - for your cunt to make its move against his throbbing mushroomy tip.

two big hands of his wrap around your waist and he grunts lowly. feeling your slick cunt maneuver itself against his angry reddened tip makes his head slightly toss back in feral rapture.

his tip—it’s got a coral blush, and you let off a moan at feeling his hooked fat plump crownhead try to plummet its way in.

it’s rude, not caring to introduce itself to your cunt but slam its way in instead, asking if your insides remember him.

and it does - it definitely does.

“ohhh fuck,” you sob out a needy moan, your hips eagerly making two solid taut bucks against him.

satoru groans against your ear, swollen sack peeling back as you’re still straddling him. your body, it was in his arms again and he couldn’t help but feel you everywhere.

starting at your hips, he holds them tight, tracing the callused scarred tips of fingers all around the curvature of your body before trailing down toward the juncture of your rear. “god, don’t know how much i missed you ‘n your smart mouth,” and as you let off a surprised gasp, satoru grabs a nice chunk of your ass. “missed this ass just as much.”

“bet you did,” you puff, full lungs already on the verge of collapsing. he’s huge - and barely the tip was in and you could already feel your pussy starting to throw a fit of tantrums. satoru’s girth made him stretch more, and for a second you let off another sweet moan before meeting his gaze.

he’s got a delicious curve to him that always makes your insides twist and churn. it’s a feeling you’ll probably never get used to.

“what’s with the smirk? somethin’ funny?”

“you, baby,” satoru titters, giving you a haughty head nod. you feel your cunt throb as you’re trying to continue to lower yourself down on his cock but the stretch - fuck, pretty soon your poor cunt was about to be met with max fucking capacity.

satoru’s sparkly heavy-lidded eyes linger on you before he cups your chin, swiping a thumb across your wet quavering lips. “all that talk ‘n you still can’t take me. thought i trained my wife’s pussy good,” and with a teasing pout, he shrugs. “guessss not!”

“fuck you.” you moan, mentally groaning the second you felt yourself getting more soaked, just from his words alone.

pathetic - and yet, you wanted more.

satoru clicks his tongue, and with a blink of an eye, he now has you flipped over. you gasp, landing flat on your chest as he’s got your wrists restrained against your back.

satoru rolls his eyes, sprawling out your weak-kneed legs all the way apart to get a good glimpse of your sopping pussy from the back.

god, in his mind - it should have been a crime to be this wet. your sopping, pearly translucent molasses of your slick stream down your pulsing entrance and he grunts.

“fuck you,” he repeats, although he says it cheekily. even though you weren’t even facing him anymore you could almost visibly see the annoying shit-eating grin plastering on his face.

from ear to ear with each of his dimples piercing each wry crevice of his mouth, he's so smug--bastard.

your back arches and you moan the second he starts to smack his rotund tip against your pussy. “myyy, what a fuckin’ mess,” and you suck your teeth, feeling satoru’s loud spanks hit louder. each time his fat cockhead thumps itself against your wet outer folds, the vibrations make you shiver from the waist down.

the tingly tenderness makes your toes immediately curl up once more and your canorous-like moans start to become muffled once you dig your teeth into the edge of a nearby pillow. “still wet after alllll this time like a good messy girl,” he grits. with another smack of his tip, your leg twitches in response. “ooh, she likes that,” and satoru softly spreads your saturated cunt lips apart with two fingers just to see your pulse throb in full filthy action. “fuuck, she’s achin’ for it. look at that pretty ‘lil throb. so cute.”

“are you gonna fuck me or n—”

“listen, honey,” and you moan at the sudden husky drop of his voice. satoru softly wraps a few fingers around your throat, pressing his slim body right against your own. he drops your wrist, watching you sink into the mattress as limp-like. he’s so close that you could feel the outline of his abs prods against his shirt.

inching his lips near the shell of your earlobe, he starts to pant. heavy, sinister breath that ends up making you throb ten times harder. “i’m gonna fuck you,” he grunts, feeling your ass cutely try to jerk its way against him. the costume part of his pants was lazily pulled down, reaching the low area of his ankles. with a husky sigh, satoru brings his tip near the dripping entrance of your sloppy doused cunt. “might as well fuck that bratitude out of ya too while ‘m at it,” and you moan once he’s slowly starting to sink his way in.

satoru grabs ahold of your torso, lifting you slightly to a certain degree. your ass was raised just a few meters with your face smushed against the satiny made bedsheets.

his eyes dart down your body for another time and now, he’s just openly gawking at your exposed skin - your gorgeous physique.

satoru could stare at you all day if he could. “f- fuh—fuck,” you croak, plump lips forming into a hoop-like ‘o’ the moment he’s easing his way inside. there goes his ridiculous girth again, there goes his fat length that never fails to rearrange your clingy needy insides.

your tummy dips from each inch that’s gradually disappearing inside of you like a never-before-seen magic trick until he’s starting to gruffly groan. satoru’s already breaking a frigidly cold sweat.

it was just him feeling your covetous wet cunt voluntarily swallow him up - squeezing him tightly like a vice until you wring him dry. your pussy’s holding him hostage, and with the tight firm grasp you had against him, you never wanted to let go. “ ‘toruuu, ‘s fuckin’ big.”

“allll for you,” he drags out his words through raspy breathy sentences. chalky white brows of his compress together as he’s starting to feel the brief twinge of pleasure that courses through his beefy clenched thighs. with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, satoru already heard your gargling pussy trying to get more bratty words in. “all. for. you,”

and he punctuated his words just like he punctuated his merciless, sloppy thrusts.

the first thrust was rigid, the second thrust was sensual, and the third was damn near powerful. .

you moan loudly, feeling him caress tender circles near the exposed nape of your neck with his thumb as he tries to start up a sufficient pace. it took him a moment before he was fully in, making sure you felt and remembered every single inch.

satoru expands through your cunt like a domain.. the more carnal lewd way though.

it makes you shiver, and with his weight pressing into your ass that was your last fucking straw.

satoru’s got you in prone bone - a position like doggy but better, and he’s got his chiseled hips just barely hovering over your ass. with pounds and pounds of skin against skin—each smack against flesh had your mind going for a whirl ride.

you were already surrounded by his sweltering warmth from the inside and the feeling alone was enough to make your mouth water.

heavy airy pants drew out from your full lungs like you were some sort of animal, then again—it’s satoru gojo, and his dick was just one of a fuckin’ kind..

his cock was heavy, driving through your cunt like it’s been ages, and it kinda has.

with a hypnotic pivot of his askew hips, satoru makes you arch just a bit further. it’s a pretty arch, and he skips a few fingers down your curling spine. he watches you trying to wriggle away but with a cocky, “ah ah. where ya goin'?” he reels you right back into him. he’s so thick, and he only imagined how pretty you looked with your eyes lulling toward the back of your skull. “aw, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart,” he purrs lowly, and you moan once he gives your ass a rude spank. “wanna hear my wife’s pretty voice. y’r sloppy pussy’s nice but i wanna—ngh, hear you.”

“ex-wife,” you correct him again, and you know he’s just addressing you as that just to tease you. you start to whimper as his rhythm starts to pick up, ploddingly dragging his keen hips further and further into you. “hnghh. stupid-,” you blurb out another weak squalling whimper, gluey lips starting to stick together.

you almost forgot how mean his dick game was, and satoru knew how to fuck.

he had the type of dick where it’d make you question your life choices—so good, each curve of his hips had you getting more and more stupid.

you’re pronounced cock drunk within milliseconds, and it doesn’t even take you long before your eyes were as wide as saucers, tongue lolled, and your back arches to its very limit.

and his stamina . . oh,

it never changed once he aged—he had the stamina of a fucking stallion, and his hips proved the horsepower to back it up.

“whaaat’s that?” satoru chirps, adding a bit more pressure around your throat. it’s safe - but you let off a tiny crooning moan once his strokes become deeper. you feel him reach at unimaginable angles, and your eyes start to roll back again.

satoru’s got you right where he wants, in his bed, the bed that used to be shared between you both.

he’s amping up his delirious pace, striking his feral hips into you quicker before groaning against your ear. in a hoarse tone, he licks a stripe down your neck. “such a brat, bet you don’t slut this pretty pussy out for anyone else, huh?”

you moan, feeling him breathe down your neck. cloudy hot puffs of air aerate against your skin before satoru starts to suck against your shoulder. “mmh. maybe i do. ‘s none of your business.”

“oh girl, please,” satoru replies, and his sass was enough to make your thighs quake.

you still couldn’t get used to his size - the fat fucking size of his cock that nearly makes both of your thighs clamp shut.

the shirt part of his costume snags against your skin as he’s still fucking you raw, buried balls fuckin’ deep before satoru starts to slow down.

with a wet ‘plop!’ he grunts, feeling his dick slip right out of you. “fuuck,” and he takes a moment to stare at the sight underneath him.

you, his pretty ex-wife all arched and hunched over.

your pussy’s pitifully drooling for more - sniveling wetly from the sheeny flaps as you clench around the air for a few seconds.

as a soft needy moan leaves you, you whine out an inaudible noise that sounds almost like you’re saying ‘what happened?’

“so . . fuckin’ hot,” satoru groans, re-aligning himself back against your slick-flooded entrance.

he heard your melodic ‘oooh’ leave from your lips as he was back inside, a content sigh departing from his chest. satoru can’t help but lean himself against you, bringing his hands toward your bouncy tits. “ah, can’t forget about my favorite girls,” and you let off a plethora of whiney whimpers, feeling him drag his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. satoru’s hips start to get sloppy and his cock’s just lazily swerving its way through every filthy orifice. “so pretty ‘n plump. . all mine.”

satoru continues to fondle your breasts as he’s ruthlessly pounding into you, swinish hands desperate to feel every part of your round soft tits. he’s moaning against your ear right with you, and satoru’s starting to feel himself steadily reach toward his vulgar demise.

his cock’s rude, repeatedly hitting itself against your precious beloved g-spot. it’s smothering it with a multitude of sloppy kisses with his tip, making sure it savors every wet smooch. “fuck, fuck me,” you moan, lying in a puddle of your drool that starts to dampen the pillow that rests underneath your chin.

“greedy ‘lil thing,” satoru huffs, and as he’s still playing with your tits, his pumps start to slow down. satoru’s massaging your walls so good that it’s like he’s putting a wicked spell on your pussy.

you could barely even sit up anymore, and he’s holding your hips firmly. “mmhhh, gettin’ me all soaked, baby. should make you lick me right up.”

“how about you stop talking-”

“how about i edge you ‘n let you finish this sloppy pussy yourself, huh?”

radio silence.

you moaned in response and satoru shook his head with another smarmy sneer squeezing across both corners of his pink lips.

“uh huh. ‘s what i thought,” and satoru groans the moment he feels himself starting to shrink up from the inside.

his testes were nothing but wrung out, plump, and swollen underneath you, pap papping against your ass - preparing to be milked full.

the lewd imagery alone makes him grunt, feeling a vein prod down his shaft. satoru’s abs flex through his shirt before he sighs, bringing a kiss near the back of your neck. “hah, tell me where sweetheart. where do you want it, tell me.”

“fuck,” you moan, losing count of each time his pointed tip thrashes itself against the gummy barrier of your cervix.

satoru lowly chortles, panting heavily before making you lie straight down against the bed. “heh, fuck? that’s not an answer, silly.”

“inside, fuckin’ finish inside, ‘toru,” you blurt out, hearing your voice start to strain.

you’ve been moaning your head off, and your chords were starting to sound like they’ve had just about enough.

“nuh uh, manners sweetheart. don’t act brand new,” he teases, tracing a palm over the curved shape of your perked ass. he was in so deep, you felt the pressure press down on your tummy and it gave birth to an entire school of butterflies. you slip out another moan once satoru’s slowing his impactful thrusts down, still filling you to the brim before bringing his hips to a sudden halt. he’s back up against your ear before he whispers hoarsely, “ ‘pretty pleaseee’, c’mon baby. talk to me nice.”

with a guttural whine desperately trying to rip out the back of your throat, you grumble out a bratty, “fuck you.”

“hah, you’re a trip, y’know that?” and you gasp, feeling satoru snake a hand in between your thighs.

as he drags it down to where it stops near your stuffed pussy, he starts to rub his open palm against you. you moan, arching ever further as your ass presses into him. “it’s ‘fuck me’ ‘n yet you’re bent over for me, wet for me, sloppy for fuckin’ me,” and you felt yourself starting to throb quicker the more he spoke.

within each filthy sentence, his words drip with more erotic bass in his voice—

it’s sexy, and satoru’s feeling you trying to weakly grind your ass back against him so he could finish. it’s cute, the way how you’re so impatient but such a brat.

the woman he always knew - his wife.

“sato—satoruuu,” you mewl out, another whimper flying past your spit-slick lips. the gradual sounds of skin slapping resound against the walls of the spacious bedroom before it echoes. you moan once his cock stills itself inside - waiting for you, and with a defeated moan, you huff, “fine, pretty please.”

“pretty please what, sweetheart?”

he’s annoying, and yet here you were shamefully pulsating for him, arched over for him, and babbling his name over and over again like it’s some repetitive sacred mantra.

with a pouty scoff, you grumble out a subtle, “pretty please . . cum inside, ‘toru. please.”

“atta girl, use those words,” he purrs, and you moan once he gently grabs both of your unsteady hips. satoru braces your body underneath him and he grunts once he focuses back on his release. “god, this tummy,” he rasps, and you whimper once you feel his bare hands creep underneath your warm flat body.

satoru’s body remains on top of you - pounding you ruthlessly, and that’s when he softly presses a hand against your stomach. right there, he feels a tiny bulge of himself and it makes him grunt.

you were squeezing around his cock tight, slathering the entirety of his fat cock with your slimy slick before he groans. “mhm, you’d look so pretty plump ‘n round again for me, baby,” and satoru’s starting to feel it. his body - it shakes, damn near erupting as his high’s approaching at a hasty speed. “prettiest fuckin’ mommy. fuck, ‘m gonna give you so much.”

white lashes of his snap shut as he whines into your shoulder, still pumping thick inches into you from behind—skin slapping meanly and resounding off the walls of the room before he groans out a growling, “fuck!” you’re moaning right with him, his heat radiating against your skin. satoru’s strokes were hypnotic, his hips jerk against your ass as you’re barely keeping up. your insides felt churned all the way out as he still had a hand lying on the center of your tummy, drooling at the thought of filling you up again.

when it arrives, it’s quick - it takes him only a few long drawn-out seconds before he finally lets go. white brows of his twist together as he’s slowly pumping you full of ribbons ‘n ribbons of cum.

pearly slimy globs shoot into you, and you moan out a content sigh of your own as the muscles in your shoulders relax. “fuuuck,” you breathe, hearing satoru’s groans overshadow your noises. he’s always been far louder than you, especially whenever he was finishing.

he sounded pretty, angelic almost. satoru’s eyes flicker down toward the mess that’s being made, hearing the sloppy sounds of your pussy gargle and all.

bubbles of ivory-colored seed coat the outer folds of your entrance and you feel his warmth.

gristly silky ropes dribble into you all at once, creating a milky white ring that starts to form around his base. he’s missed filling you up like this - so so bad.

satoru nearly slips out a whine as he’s dumping his all into you—casually filling you to the brim, and that’s when his hips start to get even sloppier.

he was a mess, and you’ve milked him dry. he watches as your pretty pussy’s all filled and glossed - oozing with such amounts of cum.

a bit of stringy strands started to stick and glue against your thighs like adhesive, and he couldn’t help but pull out. it’s a squishy lewd ‘pop’ that sounds the second he drags his weighty cock out from between your creamy flaps. “god, look at how pretty she is after a good fillin’,” he huffs, and you’re still catching your breath once satoru flips you over. you’re lying on your back, meeting his gaze.

you’ve never seen him more in love - oh, he was whipped.

he didn’t even have to tell you those known words because his eyes already spoke for him. satoru rubs his leaky white-coated tip against your cunt, smearing his cum all over your entrance before sighing. after he does that, satoru licks his lips and that’s when you watch his head starting to disappear, going lower.

“can’t . . let it go to waste,” he grumbles, and you moan the second you feel the tip of his tongue starting to create a slope up your right thigh.

slowly, he’s lapping up the remnants of his cum that’s spilling down your skin. you almost forgot just how filthy he was. satoru had no shame, and he even moaned once the taste of his mess met against his tastebuds. “mmh.”

“s- satoru,” you heave, a hand finding its way through his strands again. his lips were soft, and he then started to create sloppy kisses. you moan, writhing against the stained sheets before gingerly bringing his head back up.

with a sleazy grin, his eyebrows raised before you finish your sentence, tangled fingers still fishing through his snowy unkempt tresses. “kiss me.”

“heh, that’s my girl,” he hoarsely, gradually closing the distance between you both. he’s been longing to kiss you, to plant his lips against yours. satoru groans in your mouth, feeling your arms wrap around his slim waist.

he starts grinding his hips against yours, his angered reddened tip blushing the more cold air sets against it. you’ve never felt more hot, and you could feel a smirk carve against satoru’s lips as he’s making out with you.

it’s intense - his tongue explores throughout your mouth, demanding entry as you moan.

satoru’s sweating pinballs, and he presses his forehead against yours. “fuckin’ woman,” he whispers, his voice getting more and more raspy.

you could taste himself on his tongue and so could he.

it was lewd - and yet, he only wanted more. more of you and so much of it..

satoru leans into your touch, sucking on your tongue as pairs of teeth occasionally clash and smash together before that’s when you abruptly pull away.

“h..hey,” he huffs, and he’s entirely flustered. satoru’s got heart eyes in his pupils, and he’s very much whipped. of course, though, he tries not to show it by keeping up his smug, arrogant façade. “what’s— ah.”

like earlier, you switch positions and push him lightly to where he lands on his back. pretty soon, you were sure trick-or-treating was gonna be over soon for the kids—satoru mentioned earlier how they were staying out for about maybe two hours.

as you straddle his lap again, finally listening to that annoying voice in your head, you made up your mind.

fuck it.

fuck him - literally.

“lie back,” you murmur, and you watch as satoru grows sheepish. you’re getting under his skin, and your sudden change in demeanor makes him hard for what was probably the umpteenth time of the night.

like a dog – he’s obedient, going manspread again before a groan escapes out of him. as your drenched flooded cunt hovers over his tip again, you lean in to pepper chaste kisses near his neck.

“oh, finally gonna ride me now, yeah?” satoru raises a brow, though you could tell how his cockiness was fading. he was sensitive - very.

it was almost painful, and now you were just teasingly grinding the entrance of your cock back ‘n forth against his flaccid length that rests against his tummy. “shit,” he swallows, idly bringing a hand toward your waist. he sees the look in your eyes before dryly chuckling. “f- fine. but this means . . you’ll give me another chance?”

you deadpan, playfully flicking his chest back before humming. “we’ll see.”

“i’ll take it,” satoru pants, trying to flash a smile but he ends up moaning the second you’re starting to align himself against his throbbing tip.

he’s still leaking gleaming white droplets from the sides of his dick, his veiny shaft being decorated with globs and globs of pre. with a guttural groan, satoru’s abs flex through his costume before he grabs your ass, giving your left rear cheek its nth spank.

“do your worst fuckin’ then,” satoru stares up at you, a whine desperately trying to leave his slick-spit lips before he squeezes your ass. as you moan, watching his swollen tip gradually disappear between your sappy folds, gojo sighs.

as your unstable hips try to steady themselves against him, you feel satoru rub the front jeweled part of his wedding ring on your sopping cunt one more time right as you prepare to ride him.

“m- make your husband proud, wifey.”

thank you zane

GOOD GRACES

You meet Gojo at a party and tell him he needs to prove his worth before you let him take you out.

Or, the four times Gojo tries to date you and the one time you try to date him.

The dress you’re wearing is impossibly tight against your figure, and this night is impossibly boring. You’re a good friend. A great friend, even. To put yourself in a room with all these stuffy, high society people. You think you deserve some kind of award for it. 

When Utahime asked you to join her, there was no contest. Of course you’d say yes to your best friend, no matter how heinous her request was. She’d been unable to find any plus one and she knew half the people at this event would turn their noses up at the fact she’d shown up alone. That was enough to deter you but the desperate look on her face had you accepting.

That’s why you were here, sitting on a table on your own while she mingled with others. You think it might be some alumni event from the rich high school she went to. Jujutsu Tech? You remember she showed you the tuition her parents used to pay once and you nearly passed out. You’re sure that's an amount of money you’d probably never see in your life. God, you hate the rich.

At least some of her peers were hot. You had your eyes on the blonde wearing blue and cream. Definitely boyfriend material. You tug your dress up your body. Utahime was definitely smaller than you, and the expensive dress she’d lent you was much more revealing on your body than it was hers. You wonder what all the high class teachers thought of your cleavage popping out of your dress. You wonder what blue suit thought about your cleavage sticking out of your dress.

“You look like you’re having fun.” A voice teases.

“I’m glad somebody’s fooled.” You reply, looking up at the man standing in front of you.

He’s tall. That’s the first thing you notice about him. You’re sitting down but you’re sure even if you stood he’d still be towering over you, long limbs that cross over a broad chest. You can see the outline of muscle through the black button up he’s wearing, and the thickness of his thighs that stretch his black slacks. And his hair is white. Dusting over his eyes that are impossibly blue, crinkled with amusement as he looks down at you.

You hold a hand out. “Hi. I’m Y/N.”

His brows furrow slightly at your hand. But he still grabs it and his palm is warm as he shakes your hand.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I don’t think I recognise you. You were in the class of 2018?” He tilts his head slightly as he asks the question.

“Oh, God no. I’m here as a plus one.” You shake your head.

“You don’t sound too happy about that.” He grins, taking the seat beside you. You turn a bit so that you're slightly facing him, rolling your eyes.

“Of course I’m not happy about it. This place is way too prim and proper for me.” You sigh.

Gojo laughs. “What, high society not doing it for you?”

“Hell no. It’s like every conversation I’ve had is just a competition of who can brag about their wealth more. I’ve taken to just lying about it all.”

“Lying?”

“Yeah. You have two yachts, then I have three. You have one million, I have two. I can go all day.” Gojo laughs again and it makes you grin.

“Well, Y/N. You’re a good addition to these things. I hate them too. Everyone’s always all over me, you know. I was valedictorian, the teachers love parading me around to the current students.” 

The very unsuccessful attempt at subtle bragging is not lost on you. Something about him, the attractiveness and cockiness rang familiar.

“Hm. You’re Gojo, right?”

Gojo narrows his eyes. “How did you know?”

“Oh, Utahime told me about you. Full of himself and tall, amongst other things. I think you fit the bill.” You pat his shoulder affectionately and he pouts.

“I can’t believe she’s been chatting shit about me. I’m a great guy.”

“It’s never the great guys who need to say they’re great guys, my friend.”

He pouts again and you giggle. You lean back, taking another sip of your champagne. You don’t notice the pair of blue eyes intently watching you do it.

“God, there’s a box of chocolate and a movie marathon waiting for me at home. I just need to power through this.”

“Oh yeah? What are you watching?” 

“Romcoms. Tooth rotting romcoms.” 

“Oh I love romcoms. You know, a lot of women say I’m just like-“

“I’m going to stop you right here.” You hold up a hand in his face and Gojo huffs, reaching up to grab it and move it.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I’m sure I can guess and none of it makes you look good.”

He’s still pouting and also still holding you. Long, slender fingers that basically engulf your own hand, they’re that much bigger than yours. You wonder what else-

Okay. Maybe no more champagne for you. You tug your hand out his grasp, trying to play off the blush that dusts your cheeks.

“If you wanted to hold my hand so badly you could just say, Gojo.” 

“I want to hold your hand.”

You fluster. “Shush. What’s your favourite romcom?”

“You just told me to ask. And.” He pauses, thinking. “27 dresses.”

You grin, now turning to face him completely. “I love that movie!”

“Me too!” 

“Wow. I thought you were just lying to get into my pants. But you’ve got good taste.”

“Yeah, I definitely have good taste.” And he looks at you in that intense way again that makes you laugh nervously.

“So what do you do, Gojo?” You clear your throat, changing your mind and downing the rest of your champagne. You could do with the confidence.

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Oh, cool. Like in suits.” 

Gojo snorts a laugh. “Yes, like in suits. Though I think I’m much more attractive than that Harvey guy.”

It’s your turn to laugh. He pouts again. “What, you don’t agree?”

“I don’t know. I’ve not actually watched the show.”

“Take my word for it. I am much more attractive than him. I’m taller, too.”

“What, that’s important to attractiveness?”

“Well, you know what they say.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks reddening again. You do know what they say and some part of you knows Gojo is probably not only blessed in the wealth department. 

Jesus. You really need to stop drinking so much at these things. You glance at the empty glasses near you and you pretend they don’t exist.

“Gross.”

Gojo grins again, flashing those pearly white teeth.  

“So, are you-“

“Gojo, fuck off.” 

Utahime’s voice is whispered as she speaks but Gojo’s face twists like he’s been yelled at. He stands and tries to pull her into a hug but she shoves him away.

“Utahime! It’s been so long, you grew up so beautiful!”

“Shove your compliments up your ass, Gojo. Come on, Y/N, we’re leaving.”

You frown slightly, glancing at Gojo who also looks slightly dejected. But Utahime warned you of what he’s like. And while all the flirting and everything was nice you’re sure it’s all just a ploy to fuck you and leave. You were not going to be another woman under his belt. That poor girl that he fucked once.

But he’s so hot. That button up is hugging his biceps so deliciously you have to physically pull your eyes away.

“It was nice speaking to you, Gojo.” His eyes widen as you go to leave.

“Wait, can I get your number?” He asks quickly.

“No, you can’t get her number. I’m not letting you fuck her over.” Utahime snaps, pulling you up on your feet.  

For the first time a twinge of irritation crosses Gojos features. “Come on, Utahime, don’t be like that. I’m not-“

“I don’t care, she’s not interested. It was not nice seeing you.” She snarls, dragging you away. 

You always commend Utahime on her strong character but you sort of wish she’d just shut up. You give one more wave to Gojo, and you sigh at the sight of him standing there, because you know it's the last time you’ll ever see him.

——————-

It turns out you will see Gojo again. Or more accurately, his wealth. 

You walk into your office the next day to see a very expensive looking bouquet on your desk. Blues and whites, all different types of flowers that bend and twist over each other. You slip off the card that’s attached to the bouquet and smile slightly at the very bad drawing of Gojo imprinted on the front. And a phone number scribbled underneath. A quick google search tells you these flowers cost a few hundred pounds. You’re so shocked by the sight of the price you don’t hear Utahime slide up beside you. You do hear her annoyed sigh.

“Let me guess. Gojo?”

You slip your phone in your pocket. “Might not be. I could have a secret boyfriend.”

“Yeah right. Like you can keep a secret for longer than a second.” She grabs the card out of your hand.

“Tell me you’re not going to message him.”

“I think I might. Thank him for the flowers, you know?”

Utahime brows furrow at your sly smile. “Whatever. I can’t stop you. You’re a grown woman. It’s your funeral.” 

She raises her hands in surrender and passes you the card again. You pocket it and decide you’ll message him after work. You spend the rest of your shift staring at the flowers, wondering when he’d had the time to even get them here. Had he been thinking about you as much as you had him? Because you had been, last night, as you were falling asleep. Thinking about his height, those slender fingers, that grin. You realised it had been a bit too long since you’d been with a man.

You decide to text him on your way home. You’re squeezed on the train between an old man and a woman you think is about to fall asleep on you.

You: thank you for the flowers mr gojo 

Gojo: 😁😁 Did you love them so much

You: I did

You: thought they take up a lot of room in my office

You: how much did you spend on them 😭

Gojo: Only the best for you baby

Gojo: And price is no issue 

Gojo: You deserve them

Gojo: Surprised you’re even messaging me

Gojo: Utahime finally lay off?

You quickly realise that Gojo is not against double texting. Or quadruple texting, it seems.

You: I told her to fuck off >:)

You: jk

You: I told her I’m a big girl who knows what she’s doing

You: especially with guys like you

Gojo: 🤔 Guys like me!?

Gojo: Incredibly handsome and rich and talented and funny and smart guys??

You: modest too..

You: no, I mean guys who fuck girls and then expect them to leave right after

Gojo: If EYE fucked you you wouldn’t be able to leave

Gojo: But I’m not like that 🙁🙁 what has Utahime been telling you about me

You: im gonna ignore that first message for ur own good 

You: and she told me enough 😒

Gojo: Whats enough 

You: what’s your body count first

Gojo: … 😅

Gojo: Okay not fair I used to be a slut when I was a teenager 

You: look i won’t say I’m not interested

You: ur hot and ur funny and u have good taste in movies

You: but I’m 24 😭 I’m not getting involved with someone who isn’t considering long term

Gojo: But I am considering long term

You: really?

Gojo: With you yeah

You: you prove that to me then

Gojo: 😫😫😫 HOW

You: YUCK don’t use that emoji 

Gojo: 😫😫 WHY

You: looks like ur in the throes of an orgasm

Gojo: LMAOOO

Gojo: I look much sexier when I orgasm thanks

You: okay luckily my stop is next so we can stop talking about your orgasms now

——-

The flowers become a regular thing. So does the texting. You let Gojo know after the third time of leaving them at your desk that this wasn’t proving he was serious about you. He tells you he knows, and that he just wants to spoil you. You pretend that it doesn't leave butterflies in your stomach. 

It’s been two weeks and you find yourself growing more and more attached to him. He messages you every morning and every night, during his breaks at work. He sends selfies too, with his three trainees, the smiley one with pink hair, the moody black haired one and the girl with a killer bob. Selfies of him in his suit for work, of him at the gym. You think those are definitely your favourite.

It’s weird that someone like Gojo is interested in someone like you. You’re sure there’s a thousand girls who are prettier and rich like him he’d get on with much better. You told him as much one late night, insecurities churning in your head, the early hours of the morning loosening your lips.

Gojo: Shut up don’t say that

Gojo:  I like you because ur funny and kind and ur so smart

Gojo: I could give two shits about how much money you have

Gojo: And you’re beautiful Y/N

Gojo: Why do you think I approached you in the first place?

Gojo: Once you finally say yes ur definitely wearing that dress again 😋

You: thank you Gojo <3

You: and that’s utahimes dress I had to give it back :/

Gojo: I’ll buy you ten like them

You’ve not actually seen Gojo since the party. But you couldn’t mistake the figure chatting to your receptionist as you leave for your lunch break as anyone else.

“Gojo?”

He looks up the second he hears your voice. And you think his eyes brighten a little when he sees you, and he bounds over. He stops in front of you, warm hands dropping on your shoulders.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m taking you to lunch.”

“I’m not going on a date with you, Gojo.” You cross your arms.

He smiles slightly, shaking his head. “Not as a date. As friends. We’re friends, right?” He smiles wider and you couldn’t say no to him if you tried.

You begrudgingly walk out, waving goodbye to Doris at the front desk. She winks at you and you shoo her away. Gojo ends up driving you to a cute little ramen shop not to far from your place. He orders something he insists you’ll love. He commends his choice again as the steaming bowls are placed in front of the two of you. Before you could call him too confident, you practically moan when you take the first bite.

“Oh my god, this is so good.” You speak through a mouthful of noodles and Gojo nods.

“I know! You’ve never been here before?”

“No! If I did I don’t think I’d ever leave.”

The two of you chat about work. Gojo tells you about his latest case, and you listen intently, only a little jealous of how fun it sounds.

“The most interesting thing that happens at my work is someone eating someone else’s lunch.” You huff. “Or maybe the huge bouquets of flowers that keep showing up at my desk.” 

Gojo leans forward slightly at the sight of your teasing smile. The table the two of you are on is small enough that when he does so his legs press against yours. You sit up a bit.

“Glad I can bring some entertainment to your office.”

“You’re giving me way too much. I had to give one of the bouquets to my mum,  I had no space at my place. And she’s asking questions.”

“Oh yeah? Who’d you tell her they were from?”

“My stalker.”

Gojo splutters. “Your stalker? That’s not fair!”

You laugh. “Why not!”

“Well, that's ruined my first impression. I need my in-laws to like me.”

You roll your eyes. “What happened to this just being lunch?”

Gojo hums. “I can’t be prepared for the future? Who knows what it holds?”

“Shut it you.” You dunk your chopsticks into your bowl

He just looks at you. You glance up at him. You think catching him in the act will make him stop, but he doesn’t. Just keeps staring at you.

“You alright there?”

“You look really pretty today.”

Your face heats and you swallow. “Thanks.”

“This blouse.” He leans forward, fingers curling into the collar of your button up. He’s about one inch away from touching your skin and you want him to, want him to reach and trace his fingers down your chest.

“Looks good on you.”

You nod. Eyes transfixed on his. “T-Thanks. Yeah. Thanks.” 

He grins once again, something glinting in his eyes.

————

A week later, the office postman drops something at your desk. An envelope with messy handwriting you can immediately recognise as Gojo’s. 

You rip the envelope open and two slips of paper fall out. You quickly deduce that their tickets. Your eyes skim over them quickly. Your mouth drops open when you read the loopy calligraphy on them and you grab your phone, immediately dialling Gojo’s number.

“Gojo! You didn’t!” 

“Wait, what did I do?” His voice comes confused down the other line.

“The tickets! To the outdoor movie night thing at the park! They were sold out, how did you get them?”

“Oh, that! Yeah, I know someone who works there that owes me a favour.” You can almost hear the smug tone in his voice but you don’t care.

Because the truth is you really wanted to go. Those outdoor movie parks. You always loved the picnic blankets all spread across a field, watching the sunset behind the movie screen. And not only was this one in the prettiest park in your town, but it was also showing one of your favourite movies ever. You usually went every year and you’d tried to buy tickets but you missed the cut off and they’d all been taken. You tried not to dwell too much in your disappointment, but this was too much.

“God, Gojo, thank you. How’d you even know I wanted to go?” 

“You mentioned it like. A week or two ago? When I called you during my lunch break, remember?”

You barely did, so you have no idea how he did. You say as much to him and he laughs.

“I don’t know either. It’s not important. I hope you enjoy them. 

He pauses suddenly.

“Also, this isn’t me like- asking you out subtly. They’re yours, you take who you want.” 

God. Was Utahime sure this is the same Gojo she had gone to school with? Bceuase the man she’d described was nothing like the one you were on the phone with.

“Shut up, I’m taking you, obviously.”

“You really don’t need to.”

“I know. I want to.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll pick you up after work, then?”

“I finish at five.”

“I’ll see you then.” 

——

 It’s been a month and Gojo doesn’t know what to do.

He hates it. Never in his life has he been this enamoured with anyone. It’s usually the other way around and usually he’s the one rejecting unwanted advances. As vain as it sounds, Gojo doesn’t think he’s ever met a woman who’s taken longer than a few days to fall for him. Maybe that’s why he likes you so much more. You respect yourself too much to fall for the stuff his usual girls do. 

Gojo will be honest. When he approached you at the party, his one goal in mind was to get you in bed. You just looked so good. Tight dress clinging around your curves, those tits almost spilling out. The expanse of your legs, paired with those heels. God, he’s only human. How could he not come over to you?

But then he’d actually spoken to you. And you were funny, and witty, and he kind of wanted to introduce you to his mother instead of just fuck you. And then Utahime had to ruin it all before he even had a chance. 

So Gojo’s been trying so hard to win you over. Done everything he can think of. And it’s worse now, because the more he tries to win you over, the more he gets to know you, and the more he wants you. Not just physically but in every way of the word. He wants to take you out on dates, and wants to introduce you to Geto and Nanami. Buy you necklaces and bracelets that cost half his paycheck, introduce you to his family.

And most of all, though, he wants to spread you open against his bedsheets. Kiss his way down your neck, your chest. Make you whine underneath him, come undone under his hands.

That’s all minor details. Patience is what Gojo needs and what he definitely doesn’t have any when it comes to you.

He walks into his office, cursing the wasted good weather as he signs in. He waves at the receptionist Ijichi, a cheery, starry-eyed man a few years younger than him. Before he can reach his office he sees Yuji and Nobara standing in front of the door, giggling and whispering amongst themselves. Megumi is standing off to the side. He looks uninterested but Gojo can tell by the way he’s slightly leaning towards them he’s listening too.

“Is there a reason you young trainees are giggling in front of my office?” Gojo asks.

He feels oddly like their teacher, even though new hires are sort of everyone’s responsibility. They always only come to him. Megumi is probably his favourite but he’ll never tell them that.

Yuji giggles again. “You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend, Gojo.” 

Gojo’s brows furrow in confusion. He tilts his head to the side. “Apparently I didn’t tell myself either. What are you talking about?”

Nobara joins him, grinning. “Yeah, is she hot? I bet she is, you’re too vain to date someone ugly.” She shakes her head scathingly and Gojo splutters.

“Both of you shut up. Go do some work.” He shoos them away and they stalk off.

Gojo mumbles some choice words under his breath. He walks in and instead of seeing his messily kept desk he’s met with a bouquet of flowers on his desk. They’re definitely smaller than any of the ones he got you, but they’re pretty and pink. He plucks the card off the side and scoffs at the clumsily drawn person he’s guessing is supposed to be you. 

Gojo: Blushing so hard in the office rn 🙈

Soon to be gf: do you love them :D

Gojo: They’re very pink

Soon to be gf: does that hurt ur masculinity :(

Gojo: Of course not

Gojo: I love them😆

‘I love you’ is what Gojo wants to say but he holds his tongue. That’s always his issue. Gojo doesn’t love a lot but when he does, he loves hard. Loves so much that he thinks it might kill him, swallow him whole. 

He spends the first few hours of his shift idly working, eyes darting to the flowers that sit pretty on his desk. The trainees keep trying to find stupid excuses to walk in so they can try and see who they’re from, but Gojo just waves them off every time. He decides to go out for his lunch break, because the sickly sweet smell of the flowers is only reminding him of everything he doesn’t have.

And then he sees you chatting with Ijichi at the entrance and he remembers what this is all for. Your face lights up when you see him, grinning cheekily.

“Did you like your flowers, Mr Gojo?” 

“I did indeed.”

You rest your head on your hand, leaning against the desk. You’re wearing a summer dress, something blue and patterned that clings to your chest and torso and flits around your lower half. The skirt rides up your thighs as you lean forward to whisper something to Ijichi and he curses under his breath. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Gojo walks until he’s right in front of you. 

You look up, something mysterious in your face.“I’m taking you out for lunch.”

Gojo tilts his head. “You’re taking me out? What's the occasion?”

“Just felt like it. Come on.”

Gojo follows obediently as you grab his arm, linking yours in it to walk him out the building. You chatter about something or the other. He can’t really focus because the sun is shining off your skin and your smiling and he just wants to reach over and touch you.

“Okay, we’re here!”

You pull Gojo into a bakery. There’s cakes and cupcakes and pies all lined up in glass cases, and the other half of the shop is filled with sandwiches and savoury treats. Gojo is practically drooling as he reads the menu.

“What- Why are we here?” He asks, eyes still trailing over the long expanse of desserts to choose from.

“I know you like your sweets so I looked around for a good bakery and this one was right here, right next to your work! So I thought I’d take you here so I could-“

You pause. “Yeah.”

“So you could what?”

“No matter. Now go pick something.”

You end up taking the desserts to go after the ten minutes it takes for him to decide what he wants. You lead Gojo through some pathways he’s never been down before. He asks you if you plan on murdering him and you roll your eyes. Doesn’t deny it though. 

The end result is not his murder location, but a cute park, with ducks and a pond. They sit on a rusty bench dedicated to someone gone, and eat their desserts. You scrunch your nose at the amount of sweets he can eat in one sitting. The two of you talk about everything and anything, until you start looking nervous. 

“You okay? You’ve gotten all fidgety.”

“Mhm. I’m okay. Just nervous.”

Gojo is confused. Nervous about what? About him? 

“What’s there to be nervous about?”

There’s a soft breeze blowing wisps of your hair into your face. It's only twelve o clock so the sun shines brightly above the two of you. The park is pretty empty, though, the occasional dogwalker or old man idly walking by. You bite your lip, scratching at your cheek.

“I just don’t know how I’m going to ask you out.”

Oh. 

Your cheeks flush red almost the same second as the words leave your mouth.

“Shit. Fuck, I didn’t mean- Oh god, I’ve ruined it.” You groan, covering your face with your hands. 

Gojo breathes a laugh. “What- What's going on?”

You shake your head, still hiding in your hands. “God, I just. I like you, I realised. Really like you. And I think that- that I want to be with you. So I thought about asking you out and I was going to do all the things you did for me, like the flowers and everything. But I’ve fucked it.”

You look up at him and he looks at the crease between your eyebrows, the small pout on your lips. And it seems the only thing he can do is reach forward and kiss you. His hands reach up and curve under your jaw, fingers toying with the hairs on the back of your neck. You make a little whine as he licks into your mouth and it makes him press closer. He’s sure you can probably feel the arousal on him, and he knows that as he lets his hands slip to the small of your back and pull you onto his lap.

“So beautiful, you know that? Been dreaming about this.” He groans, kissing your jaw, down your neck.

He licks at your pulse and you moan slightly and he can feel the heat on your face as you cards a hand through his hair. You pull him back, and it’s his turn to moan at the pain in his scalp mixed with the delicious pressure of you sitting in his lap.

“Gojo, we- we’re in public.” You laugh.

He leans forward, dropping his forehead on yours.

“I don’t care. I’ve been waiting for you for a month, you temptress.” He sighs dramatically.

“Ask me out first at least, gosh.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you all enjoyedddd! i just randomly had the idea for this and i hope you all like it. also i really wanna write smut but i also cringe out so much?? so one day just expect at the end of one of these oneshots y/n getting dicked down!

as always asks are open, so plz feel free to leave me some suggestions!