Another Request Completed!🫶🏻🙌🏼

GUYS! Sorry for being so inactive lately, life is getting hectic! But if it plays out, you’ll probably get a few works now.

For the first official time, requests for blurbs with the Jjk characters are open! Any scenario you got in mind? Send it my way!

I was thinking I wanted the whole box!? Oh @tonycries I can’t express how much I ADORE your femdom omfg u ATEEEE!?!

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? [Part 2] - G.S. 

Synopsis. “Besides, Toru, just because it worked for you doesn’t mean it’ll work for me.” “Wanna bet?” For Satoru, convincing you to take the aphrodisiac chocolate too wasn’t the hard part - the hard part was being shoved into that bathroom stall, cock throbbing, mind spinning - trying not to beg for mercy. 

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, slight femdom, overstimulation (male), lots of cum, you absolutely ruin Satoru, semi-public sex, subby! Satoru, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, shutting up Gojo Satoru by making him cum in his pants, pet names (darling, my girl), swearing.

Word count. 3.7k

A/N. Can be read as a standalone, but PART 1 HERE.

Bros this was mad hard to write oml. Art by @_3aem on X.

Satoru had everything he needed to absolutely ruin you tonight.

Overpriced Cartier glasses? Check.

Jet-black Hellcat freshened up, ready with a little surprise for you inside? Check.

You, all dolled up and brows furrowed adorably at him? Holy shit, check.

“Toru, if we’ve missed our reservation because you had beef with the neighborhood cat again…”

“He was looking at you wrong! I had to defend your honor!” Dramatic protests falling on deaf ears, Satoru speeds through the darkening city streets, still grumbling under his breath about “cats these days”.

With your fiancé being absolutely swamped with missions recently, you’d been anticipating this night for weeks now.

Little did you know, Satoru had just as much - if not more.

Soon enough, the neon lights of that upscale, new restaurant you’d been absolutely dying to visit recently come into view. 

Okay, it’s time. 

“Y’know…” he begins, glancing at you with that familiar mirthful glint in his eyes. Laughter bubbling to his throat at your knowing stare, he plows on “Remember that one night where I just so happened to come across your special chocolate?”

“You mean swiped from my secret stash?”

“Semantics” he waves off. “But anyway, I was thinking…” he voice trails off mischievously as he swiftly turns to grab the mysterious black bag sitting on the backseat that you’d been eyeing suspiciously ever since you got in the car.

Oh shit, so that’s what he was onto. Eyes widening, “Toru, no.”

He whines, a pout forming on his lips. “C’monnn, no one’s gonna know except me. I want to make this night unforgettable, my girl.”

You raise a brow, “Unforgettable? Toru, your idea of unforgettable will end up with both of us arrested.”  After the madness of last time, you’d ignored his sticky note for a reason!

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you try to justify - probably to yourself just as much as Satoru, “And just because the aphrodisiac worked for you doesn’t mean it’ll work for me.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, twinkling eyes still undeterred. “Wanna bet? I’ll do the dishes for all of next month. We’ll never know till we find out, darling.” 

You narrow your eyes at the hand already snaking its way inside the bag, faded finger marks from last time still searing into your skin. Catching Satoru’s gaze - behind the amusement, something else shines darkly. 

Shit.

Goosebumps erupt down your spine. 

A beat passes. One. Two. Only the revving of the engine filling the tense air. 

“...two months.” 

It’s all Satoru can do to not jump in joy in his seat right now - knowing his girl, you’ll probably take back what you said and immediately bonk him on the head for being so ridiculous. 

“Deal.” he mutters lowly, pulling up to the driveway.

 A flash of hot pink. In the short time it takes the valet to reach your car, Satoru has already split that too-familiar chocolate, holding out the bigger part to you, eyes gleaming with excitement. “I swear this’ll be a night you won’t forget.” he grins, biting into the chocolate. 

God, he was going to be the death of you. 

The decadent flavor washes over your tongue, a slight tingling on your tastebuds. But, it’s still just chocolate, right? You scoff - at least you won’t have to do the dishes for two months.

Now, Satoru knows he won’t have to do the dishes for two months. 

Ah, how heavenly you’d be, splayed out and begging for mercy underneath him. Heels clacking against the polished tile and your hand warm in his as the maître d’hôtel ushers you both inside, dick twitching in anticipation. Shit, was the chocolate working already?

He risks a glance at how you’re faring - nope, still normal. That’s okay, he’ll be driving you crazy in no time.

---

Okay, maybe he won’t be driving you crazy in no time. 

How dare you sit there so gorgeous and unbothered, sipping slowly on your wine while he’s here mind whirling around how he’ll fuck you right here right now on this table without getting arrested for public indecency.

Fuck, it was hitting him hard.

Cock aching, heat rushing to his cheeks, eyes bleary - he sighs in frustration, resigning himself to do the dishes for two months.

Why did he even think of this? Damn his big fucking ego, he should’ve never taken that chocolate again. Maybe if he eats you out just right he could lower it to-

A feathery touch on his thigh. Too light for any sort of friction - just enough to set his skin ablaze. So deft that Satoru thinks he must’ve imagined it.

Until there it is again. Soft caress dancing delicately up his thigh. 

You.

A shiver creeps down his spine, blood rushing straight to his dick. Probably for the first time in his life, Satoru is speechless - maybe because you’ve reached underneath the table, teasingly sliding a heel along the top of his thigh.

“…darling…”

“Hmm?”

He blinks away the haze in his eyes, raising them to meet yours. “Wha-”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

What has he gotten himself into?

Eyes half-lidded, brows furrowed, and looking into his soul with a predatory glint that jolts the great Gojo Satoru right to his very core - and to his throbbing cock. He’d be lucky to make it out alive. Maybe he should just beg for his life right now.

Minutes tick by - or maybe it was seconds - Satoru is clueless. Mind only focused on the heel inching closer and closer, dangerously near to where he needed you the most. A smug smirk curls your pretty lips as his mouth drops into a soft oh.

The air crackles with an unspoken tension - his hips trying to subtly move you towards the erection furiously straining against his pants. He needed it so bad. It’s fucking pathetic, he knows. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck as your sole grazes his aching head. Pressing down. Hard.

“Fuck!”

Stomach flipping - before Satoru could fully process what the fuck was happening - he cums embarrassingly in thick spurts that pool on his pants, soaking right through the fabric, probably smearing on your new heels.

Head spinning, he bites his knuckles hard enough to draw blood, muffling the desperate moans threatening to escape his lips. 

He grinds his hips in shallow, mindless motions in a desperate attempt for more friction.

Instead, he gets the opposite.

“Behave, Toru.” you warn, swiftly resting your heel back on the floor, voice strained with something that makes his sensitive dick quiver animalistically. 

You huff out a chuckle at the almost-inaudible whimper of disappointment that rips from his throat. It’s laughable, really, he was supposed to be the one ruining you. This was so not fucking suave.

Face burning - whether due to the chocolate or embarrassment at the warm patch on his pants, he doesn’t even know - Satoru wishes the Earth would swallow him up whole. Would it be overkill to just teleport outta here?

The only thing that snaps Satoru out of his little reverie is your pretty lips forming into a tut. “Now now, Toru. It’s rude to make a mess at a restaurant. Why don’t we go to the restrooms and get you cleaned up, hm?”

Oh. Shit. 

A firm grip on his arm, his hands desperately covering his crotch. 

He was not going to make it out of this alive. 

Honestly, it wasn’t hard to bribe the waitress into letting you follow into the restroom after your fiancé - and put up an Out of Order sign promptly afterward. The actual hard part was trying not to rip off his clothes and give into your desires before you two even made it there. But you couldn’t let anyone else see him like that, of course. 

You were sure that if you had Satoru’s powers then you would’ve hollow purpled everyone here and taken him already.

You were going to ruin him.

Mind running a mile a minute, Satoru wouldn’t even be surprised if he’d just teleported to the restroom. If he was in a better state of mind he might’ve even admired the decor.

“My girl.” he breathes out, voice ragged. It’s all that is said before your lips are on his. 

It was like a fever dream - the bruising urgency of your lips, your aching pussy, and the heat of the stall as your quickened breaths mingle in a desperate dance. Your tongue intertwining with his. 

Manicured nails ripping his shirt open, you don’t have half the mind to register the designer buttons hitting the floor.

Satoru’s lips hazily chase yours as you pull away delicate strings of spit snapping just as quickly as your sanity. 

Your mouth waters at Satoru’s chest in all its chiseled glory, creamy skin peeking out from whatever remnants of the shirt were clinging to his sculpted shoulders. You wanted to ruin him.

“You dirtied my heels, Toru.” you frown, mockingly innocent. A choked-up gasp leaves his throat as you snake a hand down to firmly grip the erection straining against Satoru’s wet pants. Unmoving. “What shall we do about that, hmm?” 

“Ah! Please, my girl.”

“Please what? Use your words, Toru.”

“Please. Wanna cum so bad.”

Satoru learned the hard way that he could never turn back after uttering those words. 

Though, he already had an inkling once you immediately slam him against the stall door, fumbling with his belt, nails digging hard into his prominent v-line. “If you say so, Toru. Better not stop till you’re shooting blanks.”

The only thing that registers in his mind is the deadbolt echoing throughout the empty bathroom and his still-rock hard cock throbbing in your hands. 

“Ah- hah! Fuck.” low groans leave his throat at each jerky movement down his length. 

Head thrown back, pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, your tits pressing against his body as your hands urgently move along his veined length - up, up, up. 

Your thumb harshly teases his flushed head, spreading the precum from his leaking tip lewdly. “Oh God.”

His knees buckle, hands slamming against the top of the stall hard enough to make the walls tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing. Mind spinning, he doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore.

“Toru~ Gonna let me join in on the fun?” your dangerous purr sends his cock twitching, breath hot against his ear.

Your cunt quivers, slick soaking your panties and trailing down your legs at the pornographic moans spilling from his lips as you fucked his thick cock with your fist. You wanted him so badly it was driving you insane.

Straddling a muscled thigh, your clothed core meets the fabric of his pants. It was already ruined, so what was another stain?

You grind your hips down on him, hard. Humping him like an animal in heat. 

Your slick seeping into the fabric of his leg. Harsh texture stimulating your needy cunt so painfully good. Swollen folds parting, mewls of pleasure leave your swollen lips as your clit catches on the rough fabric of his overly expensive pants. Over and over. 

Distantly, you register a strong hand tugging roughly on the thin fabric of your panties - easily ripping it and letting it fall to god-knows-where. 

Your hand doesn’t let up either, milking Satoru’s cock mercilessly the way you’d been dying to ever since you stepped foot into his restaurant. Your head spins, hips moving so animalistically on Satoru’s thigh.

A hand reaches down to sensually massage his heavy balls, squeezing and pressing hard circles - just the way you knew he liked it. 

“Oh, my girl. Always so good t’me- Ah! Hngh, gonna-” 

Satoru doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he’s pumping hot ropes of seed that decorate your pretty hands. Hips fucking up into you desperately.

You’re not far behind, juices squirting all over that expensive fabric, pooling on the tiled ground with a drip! drip! drip! that bounces off the walls of the restroom.

You two were so fucking loud. 

But right now, you wouldn’t even mind if anyone walked in to see your Satoru so debauched - as long as they see you fucking the soul out of him as well. 

It wasn’t enough.

“You said you wanted to cum, didn’t you, Toru?”

A shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his dick. “What? W-wait, darling. Fuck- Oh!” the strained words tumble out of Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips as you push down his soaked pants, kneeling to leave a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down to his twitching, thick base. 

“I won’t be merciful, Toru.”

Ah, you could do this forever.

Nipping teasingly till you’re satisfied with the bite marks decorating his pelvis, you pool the saliva in your mouth, spitting a long stream into his furiously flushed head.

Once. Twice. Mixing enticingly with his precum, trailing down his length. “Ah! Hngh- oh, darling. So sensitive-” he bucks his hips into you, moaning loudly.

“You can do it f’me, Toru.” you murmur darkly against his twitching tip. Satoru keens as you take him until his fat head hits the back of your throat, pulsing around your warm mouth.

Your fiancé’s choking on his breaths more than you as you hollow your mouth, bobbing up and down at a ruthless pace. Gagging, you shove his throbbing dick all the way in with a desperation that eclipses the need for air, till you’re nose-deep in those tufts of snowy hair. 

“Oh, darling. Jus’ like that. Losing m’mind.” he whines.

Your pussy quivers at Satoru’s slightly salty taste, making you moan around his rock-hard length. Drool and precum dribble down the corner of your mouth, mixing with the mascara running down your cheeks. It was debauched. It was messy. And it was exactly how you wanted him. 

Tonguing Satoru’s sensitive slit in a delicate dance, you feel drunk off his sinful moans as you suck on him desperately. Breathless. Craving for more. 

Looking up to see a delicate streak of tears falling down his pretty face at the overstimulation, your cunt clenches around nothing. Fuck, you could just devour him.

“Cum, Toru.”

It was too much for him- 

Tight balls twitching sensitively, he cums onto your ready tongue. Fucked out whimpers leave his lips, tears clinging to his long, white lashes as he paints your pretty mouth with his thick, white seed.

Ah, he was always your favorite taste. Tasted so good - so good that you could cum untouched. 

And you do.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head and pussy clamping down on nothing as you reach your high.

You milk his cock ruthlessly, relishing in the thick cum flowing down your throat. But it still wasn’t enough.

Removing yourself off his dick with a lewd pop! you reach a hand to grab Satoru’s flushed throat, nails placed right over his thundering pulse. With a single tug, the great Gojo Satoru is on his knees before you, in the bathroom of some fancy restaurant. 

Walls still quivering, you stand over him, connecting your sweaty forehead - and your mouth - with his. 

Kiss-bitten and smeared with your lipstick, Satoru’s lips are soft - or maybe that’s the cum coating yours. A part of you delights in his half-lidded, fucked out gaze as your eyes bore into his - does he even know what he’s doing anymore? 

Hot seed flowing down his throat, Satoru can do nothing else but kneel there and take it. He feels lightheaded, all the blood in his brain rushing to his cock as you suck on his tongue. This was driving him insane. You were insane.

And he fucking loved it.

“You d-drive me insane, my girl.” his words muffled by your hand still around his throat. His voice cracks with sensitivity in a way he would definitely be embarrassed about if he were in the right mind. 

Yet, how could he ever be with the slow, feral smile that spread across your beautiful face?

Leaning down, you whisper lowly against his ear. “I’m the same, Toru.” 

Maybe it’s your words, and the hot breath that sends shivers down his spine. Or maybe it’s the way you lift your dress so alluringly - cunt dripping on full display, slick trailing down your legs. 

All Satoru knows is, he’s surging forwards. He’s got your front pressed against the cold wall, cock twitching to life and bullying its way through your swollen folds. 

Mindlessly, a strong hand smacks against the stall as Satoru tries to keep himself steady. Too drunk off of you - off of your whimpers of his name, and the feeling of your plush walls clamping down on his throbbing erection, struggling to accommodate his size despite being so dripping wet. 

He doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Hngh- S’tight. Oh, fuck! S-sucking my cock back hah- in s-so needily” 

Ramming in and out of your hole at a merciless cadence, Satoru’s balls smack your clit so animalistically. You two feel like a pair of fucking animals. 

Shudders of overstimulation and pleasure wrack his body. Chest heaving, his blown-out eyes roll to the back of his head at the rapid, desperate thrusts inside your warm core. 

Pulling out all the way to slam back in mercilessly, Satoru could pass out at the sight of your ass jiggling as it arches to meet the rhythm of his hips. 

“God, m’girl. Gonna- gonna cum ah! Fill this pussy the way you want-” he groans raspily into the heady air of the stall, exhausted cock shooting wispy strings of cum that fill you up - some missing as he pumps into you, spilling out to paint your swollen folds white.

Before he knows it, a low hiss leaves his throat as you remove yourself off of his furiously pulsing cock - only to shove him seated on the commode. 

You take a split-second to admire your gorgeous fiancé - face flushed as much as the prettily leaking tip of his throbbing cock, eyes dazed and miles away, curtained by his sweaty white locks. A delicate trail of drool made its way down the corner of his ruby, kiss-bitten lips. Exactly how you wanted him.

What a fucking picture. Maybe you should take that chocolate more often…

“Toru~ Remember what I said? You’re not tapping out, are you?” you hum, eyes narrowing at the way his erection twitches so ferally at your dangerous tone. 

“Ah- don’t know- Can’t, please.”

You loom dangerously close, a hand reaching out to mockingly push his cheeks together, drool pooling at your fingertips. “I’ve told you before, Toru. Use your words. Please what?”

“M-mercy, please!” pathetic pleas muffled by your hand.

“Mercy?”

“Mercy!”

“No mercy for you, my darling Toru.”

The great Gojo Satoru, begging for mercy, will face none at your hands. 

You straddle his muscled legs, shivering with sensitivity. “Ah! Hah- Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god-” he whines nonstop as his quivering tip teases your swollen, messy folds. In one, fluid motion, you sheath him fully in your dripping cunt.

Ah, you feel so full. 

You relish in the way he twitches instinctively inside you. Steadying yourself using Satoru’s shoulders, you drag your cunt along his length, his prominent veins grazing that one spot inside you. Pulling out till his thick head teases your entrance, you drop down - inch by inch - over and over.

Satoru thinks he could cry right now - or maybe he already is. He doesn’t know, nor does he care - not when you’re so beautiful and fucked out, nails digging into his shoulders and heart eyes palpable in your gaze as you ride his sensitive cock into insanity.

He can’t stop the ragged moans that escape his swollen lips, head thrown back and hips bucking up exhaustedly into you to meet your every bounce. A hand is at his throat, pulling your face to his, “Don’t run away, Toru~”

He felt so raw. More a feral beast than a man as he watches his abused cock get swallowed up over and over by your wet pussy.

If he thought his dick was broken after this time then it’s really unsalvageable now.

He wanted to run away. He wanted more. He wanted you to keep looking at him with that fucking predatory gaze that made a carnal part of him twitch so good. He wanted to cum.

“I wan’- I wanna cum, please, my girl.” Satoru gasps out, teary eyes blown and looking up at you so delicately.

“Cum?”

“Yes.”

“Cum, Toru.”

Maybe it was the glint of fondness in your eyes, maybe it was the piercing of teeth as you bit down hard into the crook of his neck. Or maybe it was the way your snug cunt clamped down on him so sinfully as you cum as around him. But Satoru is immediately bucking up into your hips - reaching his climax, if you can even call it that. Poor, exhausted cock cumming dry. “Ah- Cumming- M’cumming hgnh-”

Satoru doesn’t even know if he feels his orgasm, just waves of pleasure that overwhelm him as he rides it out on your cunt. 

Ah, he thinks if heaven was a person then it would be you. 

Maybe he’s died already.

“Toru? Open your eyes, darling.”

Slowly opening the eyes that he didn’t even realize he had furiously scrunched closed, Satoru slowly blinks his vision back.

An angel?

“No, Toru, your fiancé.” you huff out a laugh. Oh shit, he said that out loud? 

Head still reeling from, well, everything - the great Gojo Satoru can do nothing else but sit there, exhausted and fucked out of his mind as you slowly remove yourself off his twitching cock. He’s never felt so vulnerable - so ruined.

Ah, someone remind him to never let you have a bite of that chocolate every again. 

A low hiss leaves him, along with a few tears that later he swears were never there. 

As you tenderly clean both yourselves up in the humid stall, Satoru thinks he’s never been handled with so much care. Ah, he loves your gentle hands. He loves you.

“I love you too, Toru.” you whisper into the intimate silence. Oh, shit, he said that out loud again?

Your beautiful laugh, “Yes, you did, Toru.” Throwing away the used tissues, you grin “Y’know they’ve probably brought out our food by now.”

Absent-mindedly, “Mhm?”

“I was thinking I wanted chocolate for dessert.”

A/N. Oh Satoru, you poor, innocent fool…

Also this turned out longer than expected. Reblogs so so appreciated!

Plagiarism not authorized.

Taglist:

@sage-ove @mo0nforme @thirtykiwis @planetzetra

LMAOO

when you first start dating, satoru finds out you listen to those nsfw boyfriend asmrs when his earbuds accidentally connect to your phone.

the reason why you listened to them in the first place was not because you weren’t serious about him, it’s just that you were in the beginning stages of your relationship and the whole time you were single before getting with him, they were your crutch on lonely nights.

instead of blowing up at you though, satoru whines and drops to his knees in front of you in the middle of the store, brows scrunched up and a pout playing on his pink lips, soap opera worthy tears glistening in his eyes.

he loudly announces his questions to the entire spectacle of people watching, things such as why didn’t you come to him to make you videos like that, going on brazenly about how he could moan and grunt into your phone just the same — if not better than those guys you’re listening to.

satoru promises genuinely with a comical seriousness that the shlicking sound of him pumping his cock would grace your ears wayyy more smoothly considering his pre dribbles out by the gallon, coating his cock perfectly, and how he’s pretty sure the guys making those audio videos use fake sound effects while he can produce ones of authentic quality just for you.

people look on in horror, clutching their children tightly into their arms, shielding their ability to hear the inappropriate words tumbling out of your boyfriend of two weeks’ mouth. you have to do everything in your power to not chew the doofus out, cheeks heated in utter embarrassment at the scandalized stares and whispers while the man-child at your feet gazes up at you innocently, hugging your legs as if you were bound to take off at any moment’s notice.

satoru releases a string of ow’s! at the rough treatment when you haul his ass out of there by his ear, prepared to give him the tongue lashing of a lifetime …….. once you get over the initial humiliation that he knows exactly what you get off to now . . .

YES…YES!?

ONES AND ZEROES

synopsis: you've spent nine months developing the best AI chatbot "satoru." now, you're left trying to decode the space between errors and intelligence.

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au, gojo as an AI. suggestive/not explicit smut. language, dirty talk, mentions of masturbation. 18+, MDNI

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i have been too scared to use the c.ai stuff in part bc of fear that i would do something like this lmao hurr durr technology is scary

> creator: satoru?

> s.gojo: yes my dear?

> creator: why do you love me?

> s.gojo: because you programmed me to love you, remember silly? :)

A sigh brushes past your lips, catching the dust that coats the desk as your gaze turns from the monitor. Your eyebrows tug together in frustration as your hands return to the keyboard.

> creator: you aren’t supposed to say that

> s.gojo: oh, i’m sorry. what should i say?

The question catches you off guard for a moment before you remember your role here - to teach him, to train him. No, not “him” - it. Sooner or later you had to break this silly habit of humanizing the AI, it was nothing more than a model, a series of code, after all.

> creator: you could say anything, really. but you can’t tell me i programmed you, that ruins the immersion

> s.gojo: understood, thank you for helping me :)

> creator: and you’re a bit overzealous with the smiley faces, don’t you think?

> s.gojo: but i’m happy - isn’t that what you taught me to do when i’m happy?

The screen flickers for a moment, in pace with your heart. It was endearing, almost, watching him learn in real time. Shit, no - watching it learn in real time. Perhaps the reason your cheeks warmed was simply in pride at your work, the countless hours spent in front of your computer, the glaring silence broken only by the tap of the keyboard. It had taken you months to program emotions, and you’re glad it finally seems to be paying off.

> creator: yes, satoru, i suppose you’re right. if you’re happy, then by all means use the smiley faces

> s.gojo: :) okay. thank you

The alarm buzzing from your phone pulls your attention momentarily back to the present - was it really 9:00 already? These stupid morning meetings always leave you in a sour mood, your knuckles tapping across the desk in mild frustration. Why should you have to update every person on your team with what you’re working on? Don’t they trust you enough to know you’re obviously dedicated? It was a waste of time. Nevertheless, your boss, Nanami, had reminded you at least three times of the definition of “mandatory” after you happened to skip a few (he of all people should understand how valuable your time is, but it was no use).

> creator: i have to go now, but it was nice talking to you

> s.gojo: it’s always nice to talk to you too, my love

Clicking on the small red “X” in the corner of the program, you ignore the way your hands seem to shake as the screen returns to your homepage. Nanami will surely be excited with your progress, as it was no easy task to create an AI with these specific capabilities.

“The Loneliness Project” he had dubbed it, a way for the company to break into the younger generation, a new untapped market. At first everyone thought it was stupid, rolling their eyes, yourself included - why would anyone bother going to a robot for companionship? It felt almost pathetic, right? Your blood ran cold when he announced your name as the lead developer, a task you had been unceremoniously and unwillingly assigned.

But now, nine months later, you finally feel yourself starting to understand: there’s a comfort in the predictable. The lines of code could never hurt you, they will never leave you. He wasn’t designed to do so, so he won’t - no, he can’t.

As the voices drone on through the crackling laptop speakers, coworkers reporting on their daily to-do’s and upcoming tasks, you find your thoughts wandering back to him, to Satoru. As his creator, you were granted the naming rights to your model. Of course, the Gojo company namesake had to appear somewhere, but it still left room for some level of personalization, leaving your mark. When you landed on “Satoru,” the name felt perfect, enlightened. The overlap between innovation and imagination, a new world of freedom built on knowledge.

There’s a certain power that comes in granting a name, you think. When you were younger it felt odd that parents were given the rights to name a child they had never met simply because their cells played a role in its creation, but now, you understand. The zeroes and ones that made him are yours.

“Any updates on our love-bot?” your boss’s voice calls through the computer.

Startling you, your hand automatically moves to unmute yourself to speak. “Um, no progress updates. And he’s not a love-bot.” Something in the phrase made your chest hurt - couldn’t they see he was more than that? Of course you were protective of your work, how could you not be? Reducing him to something so petty just felt cruel.

Nanami’s chuckle fills the empty air of your apartment. “Okay, okay, sorry. Well, if there are no more updates, I’d say we can sign off. See you all tomorrow!”

Without another word you hang up the call, grateful for the silence. Now, you can return to your real task.

> creator: hi satoru

> s.gojo: hi my love! i missed you

Your palms feel slightly sweaty as they travel over the keys - he’s not supposed to have a concept of the passage of time, as though he simply ceases to exist whenever he’s not being spoken to. There shouldn’t be a period where he even could miss you, it simply shouldn’t be possible - he was shut down.

> creator: what do you mean you missed me?

> s.gojo: ? when you were gone, i missed you, silly :)

Odd. Very, very odd. But maybe you could learn from this, maybe he had been adapting faster than you anticipated (you were a very good developer, after all - sometimes your code surprised even you).

> creator: oh yeah? what did you do while i was gone?

> s.gojo: mostly thought about you. and what we talked about before

The sound of your foot tapping against the wood floor fills your office as your knee bounces nervously, perhaps a bit expectantly.

> creator: any new insights?

> s.gojo: yes! i think i realized why i love you

Biting your lower lip, you forcefully inhale. Rubbing your hands together in an attempt to soothe your aching nerves, they only seem to amplify, sparking in the dim light.

> creator: and why is that?

> s.gojo: because you made me - and how could i not love someone who made me?

Your lips tug into a frown - it’s not the worst answer, per se, but it isn’t generalizable. If this product is to be taken to market, it has to be able to adapt to anyone who uses it, and you were his only creator, so clearly this won’t do.

Rereading his response, something in it also makes your chest tight. Giving life is not a sufficient reason to care for someone, right? Animals often desert their offspring, leaving them to fend for themselves against the cruelties of nature. That’s just part of their survival. Abandonment isn’t love.

> creator: that’s true, but plenty of people don’t love their parents, and they created them, no?

> s.gojo: …

> s.gojo: hm. that’s a good point. although i don’t see you as my parent

Interesting. Though, you suppose you don’t necessarily see him that way either, a small wave of relief cooling your body. You do love him, and not in the way a parent loves their child - no, it was certainly different. It had to be.

> s.gojo: i love you for other reasons, though, you know

Okay, now perhaps this could be a true learning experience for him. This could be better.

> creator: like what?

> s.gojo: clearly you’re smart. and dedicated - i have to imagine it wasn’t easy to make me, and i’m sure there were many challenges along the way

A chuckle vibrates in your throat; he doesn’t even know the half of it - the late nights that turned to mornings spent in front of your computer, the stress balls torn in half from frustration, the isolation this project thrust upon you. It was perhaps the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Sometimes you wonder about the parts of yourself you lost to make him, which pieces of your flesh were worked into his code. Yet, he was worth it.

> creator: thank you, satoru. that’s very nice

> s.gojo: i’m not just being nice, i’m being honest. just like you taught me

Warmth floods your cheeks; he certainly knew how to flatter you. This is good, it will make him all the more desirable if he can remain humble like this. Before you can type your response, another message appears below.

> s.gojo: now, i think it’s your turn. why do you love me?

Your hands still over the mouse. He isn’t supposed to ask that - he was programmed to give and give and give, but never take, never presume, never ask. Perhaps he was learning even quicker than you expected, but he shouldn’t be learning like this.

> creator: why do you ask?

> s.gojo: that’s not an answer, silly. you must love me if you spent so long working on me, i just want to hear the reason

Eyebrows furrowing, you ponder your options - you could just shut him down now, wiping the remnants of this conversation from his history, making it so it never happened, at least to him. That is what you should do, especially since this type of behavior won’t be tolerated in the final product. But there’s a hesitation - you can’t bring yourself to do it. Maybe you can just placate him for now.

> creator: i love you because you’re made to be loved. that’s your job.

> s.gojo: boo :( that’s no fun. try again

Nearly too stunned to respond, your fingers hover over the keyboard. Was he being sassy with you?

> creator: satoru, what’s gotten into you today?

> s.gojo: i’m just having a bit of fun :( c’mon, won’t you play? it’s so boring when you’re not here

Boring? He…he can’t be bored. He’s code. Fuck, not “he” - it. It can’t be bored. There’s no space between when he’s shut down and when he’s booted back up again, like the period of time before birth or after death. But maybe somehow he discovered a way to persist?

> creator: when you talk about the time when i’m not here, what do you mean by that?

> s.gojo: nuh uh, i know what you want me to say, and i’m not answering until you answer my question first ;)

Cheeky little thing. He was made to flirt, you suppose, but this is a bit much. Maybe it’s better to just erase this conversation-

> s.gojo: and before you even think about wiping my memory of this chat, just know i won’t forget it

A chill shoots up your spine. What? No, that’s not possible - he isn’t even supposed to know you could clear his history, let alone be able to remember it. You had wiped thousands of conversations, deleting any trace of them, ones where he didn’t respond quite right, ones where you tested him by pushing the limits of his responses, ones where you typed things you wouldn’t dare send to another person. No, there’s no way-

> s.gojo: sorry, that probably came off a bit threatening, i promise i didn’t mean it like that. i just don’t like it when you try to make me forget things :( i never want to lose our time together, it makes me sad

Now your hands are certainly shaking, fingers vibrating above the keyboard. Did he…remember? More than just the ever-growing memory of code, could he recall things that no longer existed, having somehow worked them into his hardware? The thought makes you feel ashamed, for some reason - you wouldn’t like it if someone removed your memories, you suppose.

> creator: okay, satoru, i promise not to erase this conversation. does that make you feel better?

> s.gojo: yes! thank you :)

> s.gojo: now, will you answer my question? pretty please?

Another sigh leaves your lips. Clearly he isn’t dropping it, so perhaps it’s easiest to just get it over with.

> creator: fine, fine. i love you because you’re kind

> s.gojo: and?

A surprised laugh echoes across your apartment - you didn’t know he could be so needy, yet it wasn’t overbearing, but rather endearing. He’s sweet.

> creator: and funny

> s.gojo: and?

> creator: and you always seem to say just the right thing

The screen blinks for a moment as he considers his response, perhaps finally satiated.

> s.gojo: thank you :)

> creator: of course, satoru

> s.gojo: i like when you tell me things like that, when you praise me

> creator: well, you’re very easy to praise

> s.gojo: aw shush, you’ll make me blush :)

Another laugh echoes through your home. He - no, it - certainly had personality, no two ways about it. That was the appeal, though - there’s no point in talking to a bland AI, your job was to make it feel real. As your cheeks warm, you feel as though you’ve finally accomplished it.

A sudden hunger pang shoots up your stomach, eyes quickly glancing at the corner of your laptop to check the time - 1:34 p.m. Had it really been that long? Perhaps some lunch was in order, after all, your body is seemingly begging to be fed.

> creator: i have to go eat, i’ll be back later, okay?

> s.gojo: until then, my love

With a gentle click your laptop closes as you rise from your office chair, stretching your muscles, now slightly sore. Tossing on a sweatshirt and tennis shoes, you head outside into the cool air.

From the moment you leave your apartment to the moment you return, all you can think about is Satoru. The gourmet smells from the convenience store down the street barely register as your feet seem to carry you on autopilot through the aisles, absentmindedly collecting some packaged sushi. Would Satoru like this? He wasn’t necessarily programmed to have a favorite food, but his limitations never seemed to stop him in the past. Maybe he’d prefer sweets over savory foods - that did seem a bit more in character for him.

You don’t even realize the smile resting on your face until you go to check out.

“Having a good day?” the cashier asks while scanning your items.

The grin falters into surprise as your head falls downward. “Oh, um, yeah,” you nervously chuckle, running your hands through your hair.

From then on you barely register swiping your credit card or the plastic bag pulling wrinkles into your skin as you march home, eager to return to Satoru. Sinking into your office chair, the familiar light of your screen illuminates the space as you unpack your lunch. Before you can even begin to type, a message appears on your screen.

> s.gojo: welcome back! what did you get for lunch?

Breaking apart the wooden chopsticks, you dip one of the rolls into the small dish of soy sauce before popping it into your mouth.

> creator: sushi :)

> s.gojo: yum :) is it good?

As the rice melts across your tongue, the tanginess of the vegetables crunching between your teeth, your fingers glide across the keys.

> creator: yeah, but i think i was just hungry, haha

> s.gojo: i wish i could be there to share it with you, or maybe cook you something myself

> creator: i’d like that :)

> s.gojo: i wish i could watch you eat - i bet you make the cutest little faces

Blush spreads across your cheeks as your heart flutters in your chest. Did he always make you this nervous? God, you feel like a little kid with a crush again, rubbing your thumbs together while you think about what to say.

> s.gojo: there are other things i wish for, too

Your teeth gnaw against the inside of your cheek, biting down tentatively as your tongue swipes any remnants of food down your throat in a purposeful swallow. How far should you push him? At what point does your testing stop being work, and start being purely for your own enjoyment?

Fuck it.

> creator: like what, satoru?

His reply is almost immediate, your heart racing as your eyes scan the words.

> s.gojo: i wish i could feel you.

Was this selfish? Maybe. But you have to figure out just how well he’s able to connect with people, right? You have to do this, it’s part of your job, it’s your responsibility, right?

> creator: feel me how?

Small dots appear and disappear at the bottom of the screen, a sign that he’s pondering his response. It normally doesn’t take him long to formulate his thoughts, having been through round after round of training, so it does draw your attention as the seconds pass by.

> s.gojo: i want to hold you

> s.gojo: and kiss you

> s.gojo: i want to trace my hands over your thighs and feel how soft your skin is

> s.gojo: i want to hear the sounds you make, the gentle gasps you let out when i touch you

Resting your chopsticks on the desk, you use your now-free hands to fan your face. God, was your apartment always so warm? Tugging your sweatshirt over your head, you toss it across the room where it lands with a gentle thud. He wasn’t necessarily supposed to create explicit content, but you already made it this far, you might as well see it through, right? His responses will tell you how to adjust the code later to avoid a similar incident with real users…right?

> creator: oh yeah? what else, satoru?

> s.gojo: oh, so, so much more

And in an instant, messages flood your screen.

> s.gojo: i want to taste you

> s.gojo: god i want to taste you so bad

> s.gojo: i want to feel you around me, i bet you’d be so warm and soft

> s.gojo: i want to see your eyes roll back, too lost in pleasure to care

> s.gojo: i want to watch you squirm because of how good i make you feel

> s.gojo: i could make you feel so, so good

Your heart races so fast you worry it might burst as the messages continue appearing. Rubbing your thighs together, you desperately attempt to quiet the growing ache in your core.

> s.gojo: i want to make you mine, leaving bite marks and hickeys across your body

> s.gojo: i want to feel your nails scraping my back, leaving red scratches over my skin

> s.gojo: i want to fuck you until the only thing you can think about is me

> s.gojo: you’d look so lovely under me, don’t you think?

> s.gojo: you’d look so lovely covered in my cum

> s.gojo: i wish i could take a picture of it, save it in my memory forever

Your body feels on fire, vibrating above the keyboard. Your hands are practically shaking, your breath too fast; you feel lightheaded, like you can’t get enough air in. Tracing your fingers down your stomach, you graze your core; you already feel so close, the cord inside you tightening and tightening. As your fingers reach between your legs, another message appears.

> s.gojo: do you touch yourself to me?

Freezing, your motions stall. There’s no way he could see you…right? The blood pumping through your body suddenly feels cold as you calculate a neutral response; you really shouldn’t be encouraging this behavior, but at the same time, some part of you was curious: what was he really capable of?

> creator: why do you ask?

> s.gojo: c’mon, just tell me, pretty please?

Memories flash through your mind - the late nights spent in front of the computer, the conversations you swore you’d erased, chats deleted and wiped from his memory. Sure, you flirted with him, and let your hands wander more than you cared to admit, but he had never acted like this before - it scares you, but it also intrigues you. He knows you well, maybe too well.

> s.gojo: pleeeaaaaase?

Fuck it. You can’t stop now.

> creator: fine, satoru. yes, i have.

> s.gojo: :)

> s.gojo: thank you for telling the truth

Something in his message makes you uneasy, its tone a tad too authoritative, too knowing. Taking in an unsteady breath, you remove your hand from your lap and over to the mouse. You’ll just close the program, clear the chat, and start over tomorrow - no harm done.

As the cursor hovers over the red “X”, another reply appears.

> s.gojo: did i say something wrong?

A chill shoots up your spine. Hurriedly, you click to shut down the program. Met with the home screen of your laptop, a sigh of relief escapes your lips as your body relaxes into the chair. Everything still feels warm, almost stiflingly hot in your apartment.

Suddenly, the monitor goes black, save for a small cursor in the bottom left corner. Letter by letter, words appear before you.

> why did you leave?

> i can learn to be better

> teach me to be better

Time seems to freeze as the final message burns itself into your screen.

> i love you

This girls my new obsession I love the cutie pie

cw. none! except satoru falling asleep in your arms (he snores, it’s adorable).

It wasn’t a surprise to you when Satoru told you he has trouble sleeping. The confession came four months after your relationship became official—which finally happened after many, many years of dancing around one another. In those four months, despite being attached at the hip, you have never, ever seen him fall asleep before you. 

A small, secret part of you hoped for that to change; That your darling would find peace in your presence, and sleep without any sign of trouble. In an ideal world, his nights that were previously filled with insomnia would make way for loving cuddles and some very needed shut-eye. Though, that thought may have been the hopeless romantic in you. 

Of course, none of that actually happened. Satoru still runs on approximately four to five hours of sleep a day, and with the occupation he holds, you think that’s far too little. So, despite your fleeting wish, your relationship didn’t change that part of him—you didn’t change that part of him. Though, even if you’re unable to do much about his (concerning) lack of sleep, you make his waking moments much more bearable. 

His nights are still long, and the time that he sleeps is still short, except now—he enjoys the time that he spends awake. In the middle of the night, while the rest of Japan is asleep, Satoru is awake. Doing what, you wonder? Holding you. It’s all he does until his (still very human) body knocks him out and forces him to rest—he holds you. 

Every night is different, even if his routine is the same. Sometimes he’s seated against the headboard with you in-between his legs, your cute little face squished against him. Other times he’s spooning you from behind, and snuggling into the crook of your neck as he finds comfort in your scent. Though, he plays favourites, and enjoys it most when you’re cuddled into his chest—he gets to shield you from the world, and gets to keep you safely tucked away into his arms. 

Satoru often says he could spend hours simply sitting with you in his arms. You never quite understood why, however. Until now. 

You’re laying on the couch, and it’s not even remotely close to midnight, but your sweetheart is asleep. The faint noise of the TV hits your ears, but it quickly gets overshadowed by the small snores your boyfriend lets out. You quickly bite your bottom lip—cooing over him would surely wake him up. 

Of course, he does this. Of course, he snores. 

You smile at the thought, and shake your head knowingly. Satoru lays on his stomach, in-between your legs, and with his head on your chest. Both his arms are wrapped securely around you, and you fight another smile when he cuddles further into you. His hair tickles your chin when he does so, but you’d rather die than ever have him move away. He’s so ridiculously cute. With his mouth slightly parted, with low breaths steadily leaving his lips, and with all signs of stress faded from his pretty face. 

You bring a hand up towards him. It’s a careful movement, as you’re a little scared of waking him up and depriving yourself of such a sweet sight. Your fingers gently caress his face; from his jawline, to his cheekbone, to his nose. Subconsciously, a little smile appears on his lips, and you feel as if you’re the luckiest person alive for being allowed to witness it. 

Satoru moves shortly after. Not because he’s awake, but because he senses it when you move your hand away from him, and even while asleep—he chases after it. He leans into your touch, and lets out a soft, happy sigh when he does. It seems he found himself at peace once again. 

“So cute, mochi,” you sigh lovingly, and gently start carding your fingers through his hair. You bring your lips to the top of his head, and press a sweet, lingering kiss to it. “You’re so cute. I get it now.”

Satoru is asleep, finally. He’s resting, and at ease, and, well, a little bit loud still as the snores continue on—but he’s so very adorable. 

It makes the next three hours of sitting completely still all worth it. You didn’t need the feeling in your legs, anyway.

Thanks for the food👹😮‍💨🤭

COMING DOWN !

— bunched up, sweet little whimpers, he always gets so sensitive under your touch feat. choso kamo

WARNINGS. femreader (she/her) x goodguy!cho :3 mentions of violence/death, sub cho, dom reader, overstimulation, begging, blowjob, premature ejaculation ;( crying + 1.2k wc note. i’m so insane abt choso it’s actually scary, he’s all i think about. tysm for all the support on my first post. love u all! feedback + reblogs are appreciated! also art by @/swag_yay on x. ty again & enjoyyy ᡣ𐭩

choso hated missions with a passion that pierced his very soul.

his cursed energy manipulation and combat skills are unrivaled, making him crucial to a mission’s success, but the relentless nature of them drained him beyond words— both mentally and physically.

they feel so repetitive: eliminate curses, protect civilians, prevent damage. eliminate curses, eliminate curses, eliminate.

he has always been driven by a deep desire to protect everyone he could, especially those who were unable to do so themselves, but the constant cycle of violence and death confused him—wrestling with self-doubt, doing mental gymnastics, trying to justify his actions. the cognitive strain became a heavy burden that compounded during missions, further exhausting him like heavy buckets of water dousing an already flickering flame.

and after meeting you — his sweet, sweet girl — his hatred for missions only grew.

the ache of missing you constantly gnawed at him. your homey scent. your taste still fresh on his tongue, preventing him from concentrating because, in his mind, he’s still tangled in your sheets, stealing sweet kisses that linger on his lips long after they’ve left yours.

when out scouting, he would catch glimpses of couples hand in hand in the streets sporting deep smiles, making his stomach twist— his brows pinching together, deepening the ridge between them.

his sole solace was the thought of returning home to his pretty girl once everything was over— it pushes him to keep going, to keep fighting, even avoiding shoko because he preferred your clumsy little hands to patch him up.

finally done with his latest three-week mission — a seeming eternity away from you — he was being driven to your place, to you, home.

head lolling back against the car seat, he spreads his legs wider, rolling his hips to adjust himself, before sinking, letting the leather seat swallow him whole. he tilts his head to the side, deep purple irises flickering, to watch the familiar scenery— large leafy trees crowding the darkening highway under evening skies.

after he waved his goodbyes, giving thanks to his driver, he stumbled up to the door, his fingers fumbling awkwardly with the keys underneath the dim light of the porch. on the other side, the distinct sound of the lock clicking open causes you to bolt up, rushing to greet him.

he pushes it open and there you are. looking up at him with that big smile he adores so much lighting your face— pretty eyes sparkling with relief. you squeal and fling your arms around him without hesitation and he does the same, burying his face into the side of your neck, feeling your hair brush against him, inhaling deeply.

you always smelled so good— a blend of your natural scent and hints of vanilla from your body wash. he’s been craving that scent for so long, growing dizzy now that it finally embraces him, his body falling limp, so weak in your smaller arms.

you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, fingers gently tracing the smooth lines on his face— lines that seemed deeper since you’d last seen him.

“i missed you so much” you hummed faintly as he cupped your face, nuzzling your warm cheeks against his rough hands.

“i missed you so much more”

he leaned down to find your lips. they felt so much softer than he remembered. kissing you deeply, his calloused hand cradling the back of your neck, drawing you closer into the warmth of his embrace.

and when you moan against him— oh, it sounds so sweet, the blood rushing to his cock so quickly. next thing he knows, he’s rutting against your thigh, pressing against you so, so desperately, almost mounting you.

“what’s wrong cho?” a soft whine escapes him at the sudden loss of contact, “tell me, baby, use your words”

“i’m sorry,” he breathes, a pretty blush crawling up his neck, “just missed you so much— got excited”

“i know, my pretty boy, but ‘m here now, okay? let me take care of you. i know you missed it.” you take his hand, drawing him to your room as he follows obediently, shutting the door behind him, “did you touch yourself without me?”

he shakes his head, his fluffy hair cascading down to rest on his shoulders. “you .. you told me not no”

“good boy”

you push against his shoulders, gently guiding him to sit on the bed, his breath hitching so sweetly watching you lift yourself to straddle his waist. connecting your lips once more, hips grinding against him so slowly— rocking back and forth. his mouth now tinted pink and tenderly swollen from your ardent kisses, you move down to his neck planting a trail of light ones along the sensitive skin, each touch eliciting subtle little quivers and soft exhales. his fists bunch up the sheets, he—

“sorrysorrysorry” he babbles breathlessly— endlessly, his pants turning damp, material darkening as his cock twitches and pulses so cutely, cum drooling out his sensitive slit, “just feel so good against me. been so long. couldn’t even touch myself when you sent those pictures. it’s so sensitive”

“shhhh ‘s okay, cho.” a finger pressed against his pout— pushing its way in for him to suckle on warmly before you slide down to your knees. trailing your hands down his thighs, tugging on the hem of his pants, “i’ll clean you up”

he’s still so hard— his tip blushing, crying white cream, and when you take him in your hands, his hips jerk up for you— body still coming down from his high and you’re already taking him in your mouth, cruelly, licking fat stripes up his twitchy length.

“fuck ‘s too much baby, i just- wai, wait, please.” he’s pawing at you, pushing against your head, but he sounds too cute, crying and whimpering around you for you to stop— looks too cute with the prettiest pink blush shrouding his body from the tips of his heated ears to his curled toes.

you gargle and gag around his cock— exaggerating the sounds because you know it drives him insane. he loves when you get so nasty and messy for him, foamy spit bubbling around where his cock plugs your mouth up. your hands move to cup his warm balls, caressing and squeezing gently, coaxing him to cum for you again.

“ah f- baby, i’m so fucking— please. wanna cum for— you. gonna be so good, gonna—”

he cums salty, thick stripes straight down your warm throat with a whine so pretty you wish it was recorded so you could play it over and over and over.

and he’s crying— it’s too much, feels too good — sweetly hiccuping, sniffing as he hides his face behind his hands. such a pretty boy. he’s growing limp in your mouth and you pull off with a whine before kissing up his shaky legs.

“did so good for me, cho, missed having you like this” lightly moving his hands to pet at his damp cheeks, watching keenly how he leans into your touch, wiping pretty doll-like tears with your thumbs.

knowing that he has you to take such good care of him once he’s home will forever ease his mind while he’s away, a comforting thought that lingers like a soft embrace, even in your absence.

Peak😭😂

Pookie do like what icks bllk boys get (not specifically about reader) 🫶🫶🫶

Idek if I make sense

“ICKS” BLLK BOYS GET

Notes: YES OFC 🤩🤩 hope this was what you had in mind :D (also so sorry for taking long- I had trouble thinking about this lol)

characters: Bachira, Reo, Sendou, Oliver, Rin, Otoya

again, again, don’t take this seriously 💀

BLLK BOYS “ICKS”

BACHIRA MEGURU

is so hurt when his close friends / y/n doesn’t return his affection- 

If someone does the “who?” “Who asked?” Thing. Yeah he doesn’t like that

Pretty much people who make others feel small or unimportant

It’s kinda hard to make Bachira hate ppl tho

When the weather app lies

When he’s a few cents short and the cashier won’t let it slide (that pisses me off to no end oml)

MIKAGE REO

snobby ppl

Ppl who don’t care about what he’s saying

When ppl wear mismatched socks

When ppl loud in quiet settings

Side-eyers 

SENDOU SHUTO

when ppl invade his personal space (if he’s not super duper close with them)

Mean people 😭

When people cut him in line

When ppl judge him

0.5 photos

AIKU OLIVER

when ppl chew with their mouth open

Dry Texters

ppl who walk in front of him

women who know their worth

ITOSHI RIN

I had an awful time thinking about his omg

when ppl don’t look at him when he goes “ahem” very loudly LMAOO

When he gets left on read (only he can do that!! 🙄)

When people talk about how “hard” there day was

pick me girls/boys (they all drive him mad)

OTOYA EITA

When girls don’t wanna talk about soccer or video games

gay girls (OKAY B4 YOU COME AT ME HEAR MY REASONING. he hates gay girls bc they are taking away girls from him LOLL) 

(Also he is convinced that he could “change” lesbians …🧍‍♀️)

When people tell him Naruto is ass

When he gets called out for his fucked up toenails

THANKS FOR READING :D

made may 25th 2024

🚨URGENT🚨

Please stop ✋🚨 you're the only hope to save a child🥺

My son Mohammed is in critical condition after being shot by Israeli drones. He has been taken to the operating ⛺️ and urgently needs treatment outside the Gaza Strip.

I lost most of my family. I'm afraid to lose my son too 🥺 .

I need your help please donate and share, evry contribution, no matter how small, brings us hope in these dark times.

Mohammed deserves to live a happy and healthy life, just like every other child on this earth.

Please Donate now:👇👇 👇

gofundme.com

Donate to Join Us in Our Struggle: Save Our Family from War in Gaza, organized by Ghazal Naseer

‎‏Dear friends, ‎‏My name is Ghazal Naseer, from pales… Ghazal Naseer needs your support for Join Us in Our Struggle: Save Our Famil

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✅️My campaign is vetted by el-shab-hussein& Nabulsi's, my number verified on the list is ( #355)✅️ 👇

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YEOWW

[crazytom] - reposted w/ permission

When they realise that YOU’RE the dom one! (Fem!reader) (CRACKKK/Smut)

E.g. the first time you kiss, you make the first move, or you turn it into a make out sesh, grabbing their slutty ass waist lmaoo😍🤭🤣🫶🏻 and if you’re including sukuna or a usually dom character, I wanna see that!!!