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#gojo suggestive
to00fu · 4 months
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hbd geto
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xo-romiiarts · 3 months
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Someone needs to be muzzled
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textmel8r · 21 days
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[ SMAU ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( third installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .
୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven.
୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro
୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , mentions of past assault , threats of violence , profanity
୨୧˚ an; guys the love on this series is really fucking amazing, i’m so glad you are all enjoying this!! so sorry to the people who aren’t fans of toji because my regular smau’s might have to sit on the back burner for a lil while while i pump these out 😖
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likes and reblogs are appreciated !
tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs
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malebreastmilk · 2 months
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how gojo would sleep with you imagine(?)!!!
Gojo ♡ Greedy ♡sleepy!gojo who is actually a bit nervous the first few times you cuddle despite his usually confident exterior, short glances trying to gauge if you’re comfortable with being so close with him like this, reassure him and watch the way his eyes light up ♡sleepy!gojo letting out fake and obnoxious yawns, throwing you fake frowns as if he was the saddest puppy in the world until you finally concede to his attempts at getting your attention, don’t expect to be moving once you’re next to him, he’s tangling his lanky build around you holding you tightly… he can’t lose you
♡sleepy!gojo SNORING like the perfect prince he is! denies that he snores if you mention it, he feels safe with you that’s all, he lets his guard down, he lets himself live, hold him while cuddling and watch him melt in your arms, blush painting his face pink, he’ll hold your hand with his and squeeze it, he’s eternally grateful
♡sleepy!gojo always ending up with all the blankets leaving you with nothing but him, not even anything you sleep with is safe…if you sleep with stuffed animals? across the room on the floor, he punches them when you aren't looking too! pillows? his side or also on the floor! despite that he’ll litter you with kisses when he wakes calling you all yours and his favorite pet names
“Goooooood morning my sleepyhead~! Are you ready for your morning kisses, because I know I’m ready for mine!”
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literaila · 21 days
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i always think of this whenever i’m abt to sleep
imagine yuji and nobara going over to megumis house during summer break (it’s rlly gojos house cuz yk) and imagine reader sitting on the couch with baby gojo and theyre so shocked gojo has another child😭
“no, satoru, i already told you not to—“
“it doesn’t even make sense,” he’s saying, rolling his eyes like he’s the child here. “why am i supposed to drink water, but she can’t?”
“first of all, you don’t drink water even when i force it down your throat—“
“i am beyond biology—“
“and second of all, because she’s a baby.”
he pouts. “won’t she get thirsty?”
“you literally just gave her a bottle. you stole it from my hands.”
“because i’m bonding.”
even as you bicker, the two of you are staring down at the little baby, watching as her eyes flicker in sleep, her nose scrunching up like she wants you to squeeze her.
and even as you fight, the smile on your face matches satoru’s—adoring, mesmerized by this tiny little thing in his arms.
so mesmerized, in fact, that you don’t even notice when the front door opens. or when three teenagers—stomping, like teenagers do—trail into the house.
megumi walks into the kitchen to grab something, but both yuji and nobara stop when they notice you and satoru on the couch. neither of them says a thing as they listen to your hissing voices—quiet enough not to wake the baby.
megumi walks back into the room, sipping from a glass, and raises a brow at both of his “friends.” they’ve been here before, they know where his room is.
“uh, are we supposed to just ignore them?” nobara asks, giving megumi a weird look.
he looks over—obviously not having noticed this scene—and then rolls his eyes. “yes.”
he turns to walk to his room, mind on textbooks and avoiding his very annoying parents, when yuji grabs his arm.
“but, fushiguro,” the voice says, voice soft and somehow whining. “there’s a baby.”
“and?”
yuji is too busy staring at the bundle in satoru’s arms to answer, and he carefully tiptoes over to the couch, wide smile on his face.
already cooing, of course.
you look up, grinning. “oh, hi, yuji.”
yuji tilts his head, watching as satoru traces tiny circles on baby soft skin.
satoru looks up. “i’m not letting you hold her,” he tells the boy, “it’s still my turn.”
you sigh. “satoru—“
“oh, no, i don’t—i mean, i don’t even know how. i just wanted to…” yuji is staring at the child like she’s an alien, but it took all of three seconds for him to become just as mesmerized as the two of you. “is she… yours?”
yuji’s eyes widen, and he looks perturbed back at megumi. was he not even going to mention his baby sister—
“seriously, dude?” nobara says for the two of them, punching megumi’s arm. “what else are you keeping from us?”
yuji looks back to the two of you, satoru nodding vigorously.
you pull his hair. “no, she’s not ours. we’re just babysitting for a friend.”
satoru coughs and says something that sounds suspiciously like “for now,” under his breath.
you pull at his hair a little harder, grinning at him when he can’t push you away.
“she’s adorable.”
nobara nears the three—four?—of you as well, looking at the baby. “are you sure you can trust him with her?” she asks you, giving satoru a wary eye.
you laugh and satoru pouts.
“it’s just a baby,” megumi says, groaning from behind both of his friends. “what’s the big deal? we have to study.”
“she’s cute,” nobara tells him, “that’s the big deal.”
“don’t listen to him,” you whisper, “he was all over her before he left.”
yuji laughs back at him and nobara huffs.
megumi just rolls his eyes again. “are you two coming?”
you smile at the two of them, then back at megumi. really, he’s sweet. really. “if you’re still here when she wakes up again, you can feed her.”
yuji grins. “really?”
“sure.”
“um,” satoru cough, eyeing you, very disturbed. “that’s my job.”
“you need to share.”
“i’m not sharing my own child—“
“not ours,” you sing, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“but she could be. i recently learned how babies are made, and i think we could pull it off—“
you laugh and megumi groans again. “i’m leaving,” he says, turning and storming down the hall.
“i’ll come and tell you if she’s hungry,” you say to the other two, ruffing yuji’s hair.
“okay!”
nobara gives the baby one last look, and then she’s following megumi out of the room, yuji taking just a moment longer—frowning—but eventually following along.
“i’m serious, you know,” satoru whispers, resuming his circles on her unblemished face.
“yeah, i know.”
“why not?”
“because you’re still a child, and megumi’s just started school—“
“megumi wants a baby more than i do.”
you roll your eyes.
“we’d make a good baby,” satoru says to you, “even cuter than her.”
you sigh, moving even closer to him, your side pressed up against his. “yeah.”
“i’ll wait,” satoru says, “but i know you’re lying.”
“i’m not lying—“
“you almost started crying when she sneezed earlier—“
“no, i did not—“
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genderjester · 1 month
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"why so hickeyless?" - the mauler
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rijhi · 5 months
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geto, gojo, toji, sunarin, atsumu, oliver, reo + ur faves
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atsumu, yuji, meguru + ur faves
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gojo, atsumu, sae, oikawa, reo, + ur faves
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nagi, that’s it
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TOJI LMFAOOO
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ellionwrites · 5 months
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The way Geto smiles at Gojo’s mid ass compliment is the basis of my unshakable conviction that he would have a praise kink
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go6jo · 9 months
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(one can only truly feel with their eyes closed) s.gojo
it’s three in the morning and satoru is standing outside your bedroom door, pinching his bottom lip in between his fingers while anxiously awaiting your arrival. you should’ve been back before midnight and there is something unfamiliar stirring inside him, something that is rendering him restless. there is a heavy lump on his throat that is making it hard to swallow and he can feel himself starting to feel sick.
satoru was born bearing the curse of atlas, the world weighing a little too heavy on his shoulders ever since he was little. the body of a child is a frail one and satoru had been too scrawny at the time, bones too fragile to handle all of that weight by himself. he’d fallen on his knees one too many times and had struggled to stand up on his own until he had grown to become something akin to a god, one who barely even knew fear. 
satoru reaches for the phone in the pocket of his sweatpants, waiting for something, a call, a text even - anything to let him know that you’re okay.
however, his head is quick to turn at the sound of heavy footsteps echoing throughout the entire floor when he catches sight of your silhouette emerging from the shadows on the other end of the poorly lit hall. he feels his heart cave in on his chest for you, eyes softening and full of compassion when he notices the sole of your feet dragging laboriously against the floor, weary and sore after being away for so long and having just traveled all the way back here, back to him. 
ten days to be precise. that's how long you’ve been gone. and when you manage to make your way along the seemingly endless corridor, so very tired from your lengthy mission overseas, satoru can visibly see your body cease its fight against gravity as you let yourself collapse into him. he is so quick to guide your arms that had fallen limp by your sides to wrap themselves around him, pulling you closer, craving the proximity after having longed for your touch every day for the past week and a half. he follows it by looping his stronger ones around you, offering you the stability you need, holding you and welcoming you back with a quiet good girl whispered to the crown of your head. 
in the quietude of the moment, while trying to recover from the fretful state he had induced himself into, satoru realizes now that fear has become a constant in his life.
“you’re late” he threads his fingers through your hair, soothing away your fatigue though he thinks he might have just lulled you to sleep because you’re standing so still, breathing so softly. at your lack of response, his hand cups the back of your head tilting it upwards and your lips begin to part, ready to protest but it’s only then, when you meet his gaze, that you become aware of the distress graven on his handsome features, brows furrowed and bottom lip swollen with the indents of his remaining anxiety, teeth merciless as they tried to chew away the nerves in his system.
satoru is always so good at hiding his feelings. he might’ve been terrified out of his mind, but hardly anything gives it away. his voice never wavers when he speaks and his hands have such a steady grip on you that his inner turmoil would’ve almost gone undetected. almost. because concern is so easily discernible in his eyes - his eyes are so honest, as honest as satoru gets. they have always let on more than his words — they’re his biggest strength and yet his biggest weakness, his blindfold keeping any vulnerability from seeping through.
“i know but i'm here” you close your eyes when his thumb rubs the spot between your eyebrows “my flight got delayed and i didn’t wanna wake you up with a phone call”
“i wasn’t sleeping” not until i know you’re safe.
“i’m alright, satoru. im here” you two speak in whispers like two kids sharing a secret, your voice barely audible as you lean your cheek against his chest, a hand rubbing circles over his heart.
a placid wave of silence envelops the two of you in its calm embrace as you take your time to touch, to grab and to squeeze — to let your hands get acquainted with each other’s skin again — you swear you feel him shiver against you, when you caress the skin behind his ear, where you know it’s sensitive.
“let’s get inside, baby.”
you nod against his chest and squeeze him in your arms one last time before you pull away to unlock your bedroom door. you lace your fingers together with his and pull him along, dropping your luggage somewhere in a corner and not even bothering to turn on the lights instead guiding him towards the bed that you’ve shared during so many other nights before — so eager to be cradled in his arms, to drift off in the warmth of his presence. but when satoru drops his head to your shoulder from behind, you halt all movements, stopping in your tracks.
he doesn’t say a word, just moves the palm of his hand gingerly up the skin of your exposed arm, only stopping where the strap of your dress sits on your body, gripping the fabric in his fist, begging to see you, whole. to make sure there is not some invisible force holding you together and that you won't fall apart under his fingers. he still touches you so carefully as if you will.
for a long time now, satoru has worried that the eyes he has relied on throughout his entire life might fail him sooner rather than later. reality can be deceiving and he has grown to harbor a certain skepticism towards it. after all, his best friend had met his demise at his own two hands, had taken his last breath in his arms, however, that unfaithful day in shibuya there he stood, intact - alive. satoru is now imbedded with a constant feeling of uncertainty, doubting what otherwise he would’ve believed to be the undeniable truth.
you lift your hand to rest over his, loosening the grip he has on the fabric of your garment before you slide both straps off your shoulders, letting your dress fall to the ground and revealing your partially nude body to satoru’s prying gaze. he closes his eyes with a sigh that makes the hairs on the back of your neck raise in anticipation. he brushes a few strands away before he presses a kiss to the mound of your neck where your spine protrudes your flesh, where your skin is most tender and delicate, feeling the subtle bumps of your skin against his lips — the way your body reacts to him proof that you’re not just some hallucination. that you’re here. that you’re alive and well. 
he figures he is so much more in tune with his surroundings whenever he’s not looking. his eyes are closed shut yet the way you shudder under him when he runs the tip of his finger up the curve of your spine, the little sounds you make, the gasp that unintentionally escapes your lips when he lays the most gentle of kisses on the shell of your ear — he’d know you anywhere, even with his eyes closed. he knows the way you feel, the way you sound, the way you smell. even blind, his other four senses would still lead him to you.
he touches you until your skin starts feeling feverish under his fingers, wishes you’d just melt into him and would fill in every crevice in his body until he’s so completely covered in you he can barely breathe. and when he needs more, he carries you to bed in his arms then lies you down in the white linen sheets. he reaches for the back of his shirt and tugs it off before taking the spot next to you, yearning for the feeling of his skin against yours.
he kisses your collarbone, left then right, worshiping you whole, paying equal attention to every part of your body, then dips lower to kiss over your sternum. he loves on the freshly inflicted wounds on your skin then proceeds to run his tongue over the newly healed scar that runs diagonally on the flesh of your stomach — your taste, that, too, he has memorized by heart.
“i always come back looking worse than when i left” and it's supposed to be a lighthearted joke because you're smiling and your tone is somewhat playful but it makes satoru wonder if you think he loves you any less because of it.
sometimes it’s hard baring yourself to satoru like this, he knows it. your scar ridden body a striking contrast to his almost pristine, untouched one. however, it’s on nights like this one where you feel closest to him, laying bare your insecurities to him and, in return, he entrusts you with his — more often than not as he impulsively lets them escape his lips in the form of strangled moans against the sweaty skin of your neck, telling you he loves you. don’t ever leave. i don’t know what i’d do if i lost you, too.
“you returned, baby. that’s all that matters.” he utters against your belly then comes to rest on your chest, ear pressed atop your heart.
satoru has grown fond of the sound of your pulse lulling him to sleep, slow and steady. he unwraps his arms from around you, moving his hands up your sides until they settle around your ribs, feeling the way your lungs fill up with air, his head moving up and down, in sync with your heaving chest. he smiles fondly to himself, every heartbeat, every breath you take a reminder of the life flowing inside you.
he looks up, eyes searching for your face after a few minutes have gone by since you stopped playing with his hair. he had wanted to protest but then he takes in the image of you, mouth slightly agape, a subtle frown on your face — an angel lying under him. so fragile, so innocent.
you're sound asleep and satoru is overcome with the intensity of the sheer adoration he feels towards you when he comes to the realization that you had felt so at peace in his arms it had only taken you a couple minutes to doze off. it is as if your body reacts to his presence on its own, telling you that it's okay to let your guard down, that it’s safe around him. to him, there is no bigger privilege than to know his touch brings you such tranquility — that he’s your safe haven.
upon further inspection, however, as his eyes linger on you for a little longer, there’s a cold shiver that makes its way up satoru’s spine when he notices how still you are, barely even moving. apart from the subtle rise and fall of your chest, you’re so inert, so lethargic. so lifeless.
and suddenly it is as if there is not enough oxygen in the room as he finds himself gasping for air, lungs growing heavier by the minute as he starts to drown in mirages of your inanimate body in his arms, hands clammy and fingers digging into the flesh of your ribs instinctively, out of desperation, as if he’s trying to stay afloat.
he calls out your name once, and he would’ve felt bad for waking you up but, right now, he can’t even seem to think straight. he could be so selfish at times still you never resented him for it. so he calls for you again.
you don’t answer at first, his voice too weak to even pull you out of sleep. satoru hoists himself up on the bed, lying sideways next to you, his body looming over yours as he brushes the strands of hair that are sticking to your forehead away from your face — your complexion looks so much paler under the moonlight.
“baby.” he calls in between heavy breaths, eyes frantic searching for something. anything. this time you stir in your sleep, turning around and nuzzling into the crook of his neck as if seeking for the heat of his body on instinct alone. he sighs releasing some of the tension inside him “baby.” though there is still a hint of urgency in his voice.
“im sleepy, satoru” he can barely hear you as you bury yourself deeper into his neck.
“i know, baby. i know” he tries to soothe you, cradling your head closer to him but pulling you away from him just as quick, grabbing your cheeks in between the palms of his hands and gently holding your head up to take a look at you instead. your eyes remain closed, still so heavy with sleep.
“just need you to say my name.” it sounds like a desperate plea.
“satoru.” you barely even manage to mumble as you lean deeper into his touch, lips brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of his hand. moving only on instinct still, too drowsy to even make sense of what is happening, to notice his agony.
“that’s it.” he pecks you on the lips “again.” he is trailing kisses across your cheeks, his breath heavy on your skin when he begs you in a quivering voice “please."
the feeling of his hands shivering against you it’s what gradually rouses you, opening your eyes only to be met with his wide-eyed gaze, pupils fully blown out in the dark, alert with fear.
you know how he gets, it isn’t the first time this happens yet it never fails to alarm you. you’d seen it in his eyes many times before and you’d seen it again earlier tonight, when you arrived, tenuous yet just waiting for the smallest trigger to so easily turn into something out of control.
it's as if he's suddenly put in a trance and nobody can pull him out of it. his hands start wandering everywhere and in a rather frenetic way, feeling around your skin as if he has gone blind. hands fumbling to hold whatever is within their reach, clenching whatever it is you're wearing in his fists, searching for something that you can’t quite understand.
you never know what to say, you can only hold him in hopes it will pass. you hold him and coddle him, whisper words of reassurance in his ear in hopes that you can be as much of a source of comfort to him as he is to you.
he apologizes afterwards, he always does. apologizes for needing you so much that sometimes it drives him close to insanity. then he always whispers a thank you from under his breath, thank you for letting me rely on you, but he barely ever does, only when he so desperately needs it — when it’s him lending others his strength, being relied on, who says thank you to him.
you sit up in bed, extending your hand towards him, waiting for him to take it. you pick him up when he does and you let a hand wrap around the back of his head, guiding him to rest on your shoulder.
“satoru, satoru, satoru.” you whisper against the shell of his ear while stroking his hair. he thinks he could fall sleep right here, like this.
please, lean on me, too.
i got you, you don’t have to be strong all the time.
 if you let me, i can be strong for the both of us. satoru thinks he knows what you’re trying to tell him.
“i’ll say it as many times as you need.”
once again, he is so overwhelmed by his profound infatuation that it is as if his love has grown a will of its own, as if it has grown fangs when his teeth sink, unwarranted, into the skin of your shoulder, love wishing to seep itself deep into your bloodstream. “want you whole.”
“so greedy.” you wince quietly, nonchalantly against his snowy hair and he runs the tip of his nose up the side of your neck.
he keeps on nibbling on the tender skin of your jaw, as if he’s hungry and trying to prove a point. that if he so wished to, if he was greedy enough, vile enough, he’d devour you full.
“i'm the greediest, baby” for what is love if not greed. is it not wanting to consume the other person and let yourself be consumed in return? for his entire life, satoru has known nothing but an insatiable hunger. always wanting more, always needing more. gluttonous for more, more, more. in the end, he always managed to get what he wants and he doesn’t hold back, you never asked him to either.
he knows he owns you wholly, that you placed your soul, mind and body fully on the palm of his hand and he doesn’t think he could ever settle for less. doesn’t think his hunger would ever be satiated with less than a handful of you.
he places a trail of kisses that goes down to your shoulder again and he pulls away from your skin with one last kiss to the spot where he left a mark. a mark that is so unlike any other in your body. one that comes from love.
“i'm sorry that i need you so much” he envelops you in the tightest of embraces, touching his heart with yours.
he wishes you understand that he’s apologizing for so many other things, too. he’s sorry that he can’t give himself to you the same way you’ve given yourself to him. you’ve always kept your heart so willingly open to him yet it seems that he only ever allows you a glimpse into the heart inside his chest on nights like this, when fear holds him in it’s strong, relentless grip or when he’s falling apart at the feeling of being inside in you, body panting above yours, too lost in his own pleasure. only then does he allow himself to be vulnerable with you, spilling all of his heart's content into your distracted ears — when he thinks you’re far too gone to listen, to truly acknowledge his feelings — but you treasure every single moment of fragility of his, for they are so scarce, listening attentively even when he thinks you don’t.
“say my name one last time” he breathes against your ear.
here, in these sheets, satoru pretends to forget his name and the burden that inescapably comes with it. he forgets the world needs him and lets himself need you instead, just this once. — just this once, he’ll pretend to be the weak one, the one who needs saving and finds a shelter in your arms.
“satoru…” your words are spoken barely above a whisper, like they’re meant just for him.
“again” he connects his lips with yours and holds the back of your neck with one hand, the other resting on your lower back for support as he dips both of you down onto the mattress.
and you say it. again. and then again. not because he asks you to but because satoru knows how to get what he wants. he pries his name out of your lips as he trails open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts, forces it out of you in the form a laughter as he nibbles on the inside of your thighs, tickling you with his breath and ultimately earns it in moan that you cry as a prayer when he sinks down on the mattress and makes a home in between your legs — until you're chanting his name over and over again, sobbing that you love him, you love him, you love him.
he smiles to himself, does it half smugly, half earnestly. satoru is now twenty eight and his shoulders a little lighter, the world fitting all too perfectly in this queen sized bed.
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s4turn-ly · 16 hours
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They are just fighting ok
The reference
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bodega-catto · 2 days
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I told you not to come inside a million times VS you were begging for it and I aim to please FIGHT
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xo-romiiarts · 4 months
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coveted
for gogeweek2024
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ffsg0jo · 8 hours
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tw: suggestive and also pretend everything ended after gojo was unsealed and that everyone's alive !!
you shouldn't be feeling this way. the entire world was in disarray, still recovering from the aftershock of chaos and destruction stomping hand in hand through the streets.
but your husband had changed drastically. since escaping the prison realm, he'd gotten thicker, bulkier, his frame now matching his larger than life ego.
the way his t-shirt deliciously hugged and stretched against his biceps. the baggy, white martial arts pants (which are almost see-through in the sunlight) left so much to the imagination, and god, you couldn't stop imagining what was underneath.
the pretty little bow tying it all together was just calling you, begging you to untie it and sink to your knees, revering him the way he deserved to be. you wanted your husband so badly that you couldn't focus on any of the tasks at hand. major damage control and cleanup were needed, but your mind was only on your husband. it was pathetic, and you felt ashamed, but you needed him, entire world be damned.
it was like a switch flicked in your brain. the 20 days he was locked up, you spent it all in a constant state of panic and worry, fighting to stay alive and to keep your students alive too. and the moment you saw satoru, you were taken aback, rooted to the spot.
there he was, your satoru in all his infinite glory. as he ran and gathered you up in his arms, you couldn't help but slightly whimper at the feeling of his taut muscles pressing against your softer form. he felt so good against your body and finally in your arms.
satoru, well versed in your body language, immediately understood what was going through your head. the same could be said for him, too. he spent hours upon hours alone in the prison realm, his body devoid of your touch, aching for you. not a second went by where he didn't think about your lips pressed against his heated skin and indulging in your soft, silky, warmth.
he could feel the blood rushing south as he heard you whimper. satoru wanted to kiss you so bad, but he knew if he did, he'd end up taking you right here, right now in front of everyone.
he pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, another stamped lovingly onto your hairline. satoru held your face in his palms, forehead pressed against yours. his blue eyes shining with unshed tears, mirroring yours. god, he missed his wife so much. his sweet, sweet girl.
satoru's gaze softened, drinking you in properly now. he sees the bags under your eyes and tear tracks engrained into your cheeks. his soul breaks, as he realises how devastated and hearbroken you must have been.
"i love you so much," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your soft lips. "and i'm not going anywhere, my love. i promise."
you couldn't stop yourself leaning up and capturing satoru's lips in a frenzied kiss, you both groaning at the contact. satoru angled your face closer to his, his nose pressing deliciously into yours. he deepened the kiss, gasping at the way you tugged at his slightly overgrown undercut. you took that as an opportunity to slide your tongue past his lips and lick into his mouth.
he tongue fought against yours, wanting to taste every inch of your mouth. the kiss was becoming way too heated. your body pulled flush against his, his hardening length pressing into your stomach, moans escaping both of your lips. satoru drank all your noises up greedily, savouring them on his tongue.
the sudden loud cough to your right made you both pause, realising where you were. collecting yourselves, you slowly pulled apart, a string of saliva splitting as you moved away from your husband, his hands falling to your waist.
you were both panting and out of breath, but that now that you'd gotten a taste, it wasn't enough. you needed to feel his bare skin on yours. you needed to be completely consumed by him. you needed more.
before turning to face his students' satoru smirked at you. you never thought you'd say this, but you revelled in that stupid smirk of his.
'patience' his darkened, lust-filled eyes conveyed, his hands squeezing your waist, 'we have all night'.
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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malebreastmilk · 2 months
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pining!gojo imagines, school picnic sandwich making!
♡ pining!gojo who is busy taking in the scenery of your apartment as you begin listing off the different sandwich types that the students had requested, he feels like he’s looking right into your heart seeing how you decorated your little place with all the things you enjoyed, only snapping out of his little haze when you speak his name
“...Huh? Sandwiches! Right–what type I like? Whatevers on the menu!” ♡ pining!gojo who finds himself looking down at the little cutting board you had given him with different ingredients that needed cut, glancing over to you cutting the crusts off of someone’s sandwich, a pang of longing flooding his chest as he watched you prepare food so thoughtfully. who looks back towards his cutting board with unfamiliarity for once, unsure
 “On second thought, why don’t we just buy premade sandwiches? It’ll be easier!” ♡ pining!gojo who now finds himself frozen in place as you carefully direct your hands over the top of his to help him direct the shaped bread-cutter without squishing the sandwich and its fillings completely. who trembles momentarily as you move your hand away from his as he does his best to cut into a sandwich by himself, looking back at you, trying to meet your gaze
 “See? Easy as that. You might wanna take notes!”
♡ pining!gojo who packs away the last bagged sandwich after you finish writing the last of the names onto the front. who tries to play it off as him accidentally making an extra sandwich that you might as well eat now since he argued that he was full from the sweets the two of you had been snacking on. who can't help but feel a newly found rush of pride swelling in his chest as you bite into the sandwich, the one he himself made especially for you
“It’s that good? Well I mean– of course it's good! It was made by the one and only Gojo Satoru after all~”
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sleepy-sham · 1 month
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officially caught up on posting jjk memes with this!!!!!! (((Big Post™ 4)))
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shout-out to my roommate for coming up with the 7th one
more jjk big posts
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keniaku · 9 months
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daily gojoken until one of them dies: day 48
google why do i get two shoulder devils instead
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