⯌How JJK Characters Eat Pussy⯌

⯌How JJK Characters Eat Pussy⯌

୨୧・・・・୨୧

MDNI (Obv the title 😙)

Master list's

⯌Sum

How JJK men eat pussy ୧(＾ 〰 ＾)୨

⯌ Wc

Satorus: 2.6k

Tojis: 2k

⯌ Warnings

cullingness (oral), squirting, over stimulation, masturbating, sex toys, cum eating, p → v, degrading, a couple of the boys read your 'books' and ya'll recreate it (not all of them), semi public sex, fingering, the boys are down BAD, some sorta slow burns, breast sucking and pinching

⯌ The men

Satoru Gojo, Toji Fushiguro

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Satoru Gojo

You were out shopping with Satoru's black card, while he got bored alone at home. He went from laying on the bed. To look through your underwear drawer- perv. To looking through your books. You specifically told him no, butttt, he is well- himself, so he looked through the first couple books taking them out of the shelf.

He first pulled out Charlotte's web reading it. Cute. But a little sad. He put it back and saw a series, which seemed to be four books with twisted in front of the words, seemed to be a series. Interesting. He pulled out a book called 'twisted games', he flipped through a few chapters. Seemed to be about a body guard and a princess.

He flipped to a book marked page. Chapter 32. He flipped through a couple pages until he got to a certain spicy scene.

You weren't royal, but you were going to dinner at the Gojo clan, which does have a throne... which would be fucking perfect.

_

Since you were done shopping you needed to be picked up. You sat perched on the bench sitting all cute and pretty. He speeds and slams on the breaks in front of you.

His Lambo (that he loves flexing), is black with baby blue highlights and accents to match his eyes. It is overall extreme.

"Hey pretty girl!" He said in the car running out holding you tight. God he never loses energy. But he's a weirdo, your weirdo. He kissed you all over your face.

He sees your bags from the expensive store you just and takes them from you. He picks you up and opens the back seat of his car and brings you to sit on his lap. He slams the door shut while you sit on his thigh with the shopping bag on the other.

He pulls out a baby pink silky tight spaghetti strap dress. "Ooo, it's pretty, you're wearing this to the restaurant!" He giggles like a child. You don't question it, he is an idiot. But you love him.

"Where will I change?" You question, his tint on the windows were very dark but still some privacy would be nice. "Here, no one would see you pookie, you're fine." You sigh at his childish reply but you let out that annoyed sigh, and he squeals with excitement.

He takes off your shirt, and kisses the top of your breast. He takes off your bra and kisses your cheek, then he starts to slowly and sensually kiss your neck, he takes off your pants and underwear. He kept your heels since he had a thing for them.

He pulls back and pulls some lingerie out of the bag. It was the same baby pink that the dress had. He put it on you, the lace clinging to your skin nicely. Its just a matching bra and panties but he thinks its the hottest thing he's ever seen in his life.

He slides on the silky dress over it and your hair softly falling to your shoulders, it perfectly frames your gorgeous face. He feels like he's gonna explode.

He feels his cock slightly hardening. But he has to go to dinner with the clan, with you.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to focus. He can’t get distracted—not yet. The clan is waiting, and as much as he’d rather keep you to himself, he has to show you off.

"You look so damn good, baby," he murmurs, his hands running down your sides as he pulls you closer. His breath is warm against your cheek, his lips teasing your skin before he finally, reluctantly, leans back. "But if we don’t leave now, I swear I’m not gonna be able to control myself."

You smirk, knowing exactly what you're doing when you adjust yourself on his lap, the silky fabric of your dress shifting just enough to tease him. His grip on your waist tightens. "Pretty, you're playing a dangerous game," he warns, his voice husky, but you just laugh.

"Then let’s go before you lose."

He groans dramatically but lifts you effortlessly, placing you in the passenger seat before grabbing the wheel. The engine roars to life, the deep purr of the Lambo vibrating through your body. He speeds off, his hand already finding its place on your thigh, tracing small circles absentmindedly.

The city lights blur past, neon reflections streaking across the windshield as he races through the streets. His grip tightens every time you shift in your seat, your dress riding up ever so slightly, teasing him further.

"You tryna kill me before we even get there?" he mutters, glancing over with a smirk.

You lean closer, voice soft and teasing. "Just making sure you don’t lose energy before dinner."

His laughter fills the car, bright and carefree. "Oh, baby, you have no idea."

Within minutes, you arrive at the clan house, an exclusive, high-end spot with velvet ropes and a valet already waiting. He parks recklessly, as always, tossing the keys to the stunned valet before stepping around to open your door. He takes your hand, pulling you close, and you can feel the heat in his gaze as his eyes rake over you once more.

"You ready?"

"When am I not?"

With that, he leads you inside, the night just getting started.

The Gojo clan’s estate is grand—almost absurdly so. Ornate chandeliers dangle from high ceilings, the marble floors polished to perfection, reflecting the warm glow of golden lights. The entire place drips with wealth and power, a kingdom in its own right.

Satoru, of course, walks in like he owns the place. Because, well, he basically does. His hand is firm on your lower back, guiding you through the halls with that ever-present cocky smirk.

"Everyone's gonna lose their minds when they see you," he whispers in your ear. "I might have to fight off some admirers."

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest is undeniable.

As soon as you step into the grand dining hall, heads turn. Conversations falter. The Gojo elders, clan members, and high-ranking sorcerers are all seated at the long table, their expressions ranging from curiosity to approval.

One of the elders, a graying man with sharp features, eyes you with intrigue. "Satoru," he says, tone even. "You’ve finally decided to bring someone worthy to dinner."

Satoru just grins. "Of course. Only the best for me."

You feel the weight of their gazes, but you stand tall. This isn’t just a dinner—it’s a test. A silent evaluation. But you won’t give them the satisfaction of intimidation.

Satoru pulls out a chair for you at the head of the table—right next to his own. A power move, you realize. He’s making a statement. You’re not just here as arm candy. You’re here as his equal.

Dinner is a blur of rich food, wine, and idle conversation, but Satoru barely touches his meal. His fingers stay busy—tracing circles on your thigh beneath the table, his grip tightening when you shift just right.

At one point, he leans in, his lips grazing your ear. "You know… there’s a throne in the next room." His voice is pure sin. "Just saying."

Your breath hitches.

You should’ve known. That book—Twisted Games. He read it. And now, he wants to recreate it.

"Satoru," you warn, voice barely above a whisper.

He just chuckles, eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, princess, I always get what I want."

And with that, dinner suddenly feels like the least interesting part of the night.

Well the clan talked business with Gojo he stuck his hand under your dress. He gently massages your pussy gently. He sticks his finger inside curling it just right. Your face flushed as he kept talking business.

You try to keep your expression neutral, focusing on the conversation around you, but Satoru's fingers are relentless. His touch is slow, teasing—just enough to drive you crazy without giving you the satisfaction you need.

Across the table, one of the elders directs a question at him, and he answers smoothly, as if he isn’t up to anything at all. His confidence, his sheer audacity, makes your breath hitch. You grip his wrist under the table in warning, but he only smirks, leaning in close.

"You’re doing so good, princess," he whispers against your ear, his voice laced with amusement. "Looking all innocent while you’re falling apart for me."

Heat floods through you, but you shoot him a glare. Two can play this game.

Slowly, you shift in your seat, pressing your thigh more firmly against his hand, subtly grinding into his touch. His breath hitches just slightly—so quick that no one else would notice, but you do. You smirk, tilting your head toward him, your lips barely brushing his jaw as you whisper, "Careful, Satoru. I don’t think you’d want them to see how desperate you are."

His fingers twitch against you, his restraint thinning. His grip on your thigh tightens before he suddenly withdraws his hand, leaning back in his chair, eyes dark with unspoken promises.

"Just wait until dinner’s over," he murmurs, low and dangerous. "Then we’ll see who’s really in control."

You swallow hard, heart pounding, because the look in his eyes tells you one thing—he's just getting started.

Dinner feels like it stretches on forever. The clan talks business, politics, and the balance of power, but your mind is elsewhere—on the lingering heat of Satoru’s touch, on the way his leg presses against yours beneath the table, on the undeniable promise in his voice.

He’s smug, of course. Acting as if nothing happened, chatting casually with the elders while swirling his wine, but you catch the flicker of impatience in his fingers, the way he taps them against the stem of his glass. He’s biding his time. Waiting.

When dinner finally concludes, the elders begin to rise, exchanging pleasantries as they move toward the lounge for after-meal discussions. Satoru, ever the perfect heir, flashes them a lazy grin, offering vague responses before turning to you.

His hand finds yours. His grip is firm—possessive. "Come with me," he murmurs, tugging you to your feet.

You don’t resist. You already know where this is going.

He leads you through the grand hallways of the estate, past gilded doors and intricate tapestries, until he reaches a particular room. He pushes open the heavy double doors, revealing a dimly lit chamber adorned with deep blues and silvers—a room that screams power and legacy.

And there, at the centre, sits the throne.

Your breath catches.

The seat is grand, carved from dark wood with intricate engravings curling along its arms. A symbol of authority, of dominion.

Satoru steps behind you, his hands sliding over your waist. He leans in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You know," he murmurs, "I think you'd look perfect sitting there."

You turn in his arms, arching a brow. "Is that so?"

His smirk is pure arrogance. "Mm. Thought I’d let you play queen for a bit. Before I remind you who really holds the power."

Your stomach tightens at the dark edge in his voice. He reaches for you again, but this time, you step back, lowering yourself onto the throne deliberately, running your hands along the armrests as if testing your own reign.

Satoru watches you with a hungry gaze, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. "Oh, you’re really pushing it, aren’t you?"

You tilt your chin up, feigning innocence. "I thought you wanted me to play queen."

His laugh is low and dangerous. He steps closer, placing his hands on the armrests, caging you in. His presence is overwhelming, his scent intoxicating.

"Oh, I do," he murmurs, gaze flickering to your lips. "But don’t forget, princess—" He leans down, his breath hot against your skin. "Kings always take what they want."

And just like that, the game shifts.

Satoru’s grip on your waist tightens, and his smirk deepens as he notices the way you’re reacting to him. You feel the weight of his gaze on you, and despite yourself, your heart races, the anticipation almost unbearable.

“Careful, princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “You’re making it so hard for me to keep my hands to myself.” His fingertips graze your skin, sending sparks of warmth everywhere he touches.

You sit there, the throne beneath you feeling both like a pedestal and a prison as Satoru moves closer, the space between you narrowing to almost nothing. His scent—sweet, rich, and intoxicating—fills your senses. You swallow, your pulse quickening.

“You’re always so confident,” you tease, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do you always get what you want?"

Satoru chuckles, the sound warm and dangerous, his hand lifting to touch your cheek. “I don’t just get what I want, baby,” he says, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip, “I take it.” His eyes darken, and you feel the intensity of his gaze like a physical weight.

You can feel the tension between you thickening, the chemistry undeniable. Your pulse races in your ears, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just you, him, and the overwhelming desire that crackles in the air between you.

“Do you want to see just how much I take?” Satoru’s voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a promise.

You meet his gaze, every fiber of your being screaming with anticipation. You shift slightly, your legs spreading just enough to give him an invitation.

Satoru leans in closer, the breath between you shallow and warm. His lips brush against your ear, his voice a deep murmur. "I’m going to make sure you never forget this night, princess."

Your heart skips a beat, and you know, without a doubt, that you’re not getting out of this unscathed. He rips your panties off

"Fuck Satoru there gonna see us!" You whisper angrily. "That's why I'm gonna do this." He shoves your wet panties into your mouth, you grunt with a whine following it as he shoves his tongue in your pussy holding on to your thighs like his life depends on it.

You let out muffled whines as the underwear gets soaked with your saliva. You can still taste your wetness on it which gets you more soaked which really, really, turns him on.

He starts plunging into your hole harder with his tongue to get more of that yummy taste. You start shrieking, your moans bouncing off the walls of the paintings of the elders of the Gojo clan. Practically glaring at you.

You whine as he sucks harsher on your clit, trying to get you to squirt because he is obsessed with your pussy juices.

He whines pathetically as your juices drip down your ass and on to the throne. You squirt and he automatically slurps it up. His slurping bounces off the walls with your muffled moans, he pulls back, your teary eyes flutter open but before you can sit up properly, he pulls out his throbbing, leaking cock, and grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders.

He slams his cock inside your pussy and you yell out your panties falling out of your mouth making your moans and squeals so fucking loud. It makes him cum instantly with a pathetic whine. After a few more thrusts, you squirt with a small scream.

He pulls at and leaves some kisses on your sweaty forehead. Some of his cum dribbles out of your hole. He pulls your panties back up.

"I wanna be clean, your cum is all in my panties..." You whine.

"So? I want you to walk around like the pretty little baby you are, so you know I own you."

୨୧・・・୨୧

Toji Fushiguro

Toji wasn’t used to this—being alone, being needy. But damn it, he was.

He laid on the couch, one arm draped over his face, exhaling sharply. The apartment felt too quiet without you. Usually, you’d be here—curled up beside him, your soft hands tracing absentminded patterns over his chest, your scent lingering in the air.

But now? Just silence. And he hated it.

He scoffed at himself, rubbing a hand over his face. Since when did he get this pathetic? Since when did he miss someone this much? He should be out, distracting himself, doing anything—but instead, he was checking his phone every ten minutes, waiting for a damn text.

With a groan, he rolled over, grabbing your pillow and burying his face in it. It still smelled like you. Fuck.

He’d never admit it, but yeah—Toji Fushiguro was needy for you. And the second you walked through that door? You weren’t getting a moment to yourself.

Toji let out a low, frustrated groan, rolling onto his back as he stared at the ceiling. His hand rested over his stomach, fingers twitching slightly. It had been hours since you left, and his body was reacting in ways he really didn’t want to deal with alone.

The scent of your perfume on the pillow, the memory of your soft body against his just last night—it was messing with him. Badly. His jaw clenched as he exhaled, adjusting his position, but that only made things worse. His sweatpants were too tight now, his body betraying him, aching for you in a way that made his patience snap.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. He could call you, tell you to get back here now—but he knew you’d just tease him, drag it out, make him suffer. And normally, he’d enjoy that little game. But right now? Right now, he was desperate.

His fingers flexed at his side as he let out a slow, irritated breath.

Toji groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair as he glared at his phone. His patience was wearing dangerously thin.

"Yeah, I need you to hurry the hell up."

Your reply was instant.

"Chill, I’m almost done. What’s your problem?"

He scoffed, shifting against the couch. His problem? You. You were his damn problem.

"You left me here to suffer, that’s my problem."

There was a pause. Then—

"Oh my god, are you seriously being needy right now?"

Toji let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. Needy? That didn’t even begin to cover it.

"You have no fucking idea. Get home. Now."

Another pause. Then your reply popped up.

"…Or what?"

That did it. If you were gonna play games, he’d make sure you knew exactly what you were in for.

He angled his phone, letting the camera capture the sight of his hand wrapped around his cock—thick, hard, aching for you. He was already leaking, his grip tight as he stroked himself slow, teasing.

Then he snapped the picture.

Sent.

Less than a minute later, your typing bubble appeared—then stopped. Then started again.

"Toji."

He smirked, lazily dragging his hand up and down.

"You started this, baby. Better finish shopping fast."

No response.

Toji chuckled darkly, gripping himself tighter.

"That’s what I thought."

Toji leaned back against the couch, smirking at the silence on your end. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

His phone vibrated.

"You’re such a menace."

He chuckled, his hand still lazily stroking himself, teasing his own patience.

"And you love it."

Another pause. He could practically see you standing frozen in the middle of the grocery store, gripping the cart with shaky hands.

"Toji, I swear to god, I’m in public."

He grinned, eyes dark with amusement.

"And?"

"You’re impossible."

"You’re still standing there texting me instead of checking out, so I think you like this, sweetheart."

Three dots. Then they disappeared.

Toji groaned, tossing his head back. "Tch. Tease."

He gripped himself tighter, his mind already wandering—picturing the way you’d react when you walked through that door. How he’d have you pressed against it before you even put the damn groceries down.

Another message popped up.

"I’m driving home. Be naked when I get there."

Toji smirked.

"Oh, baby, you have no idea what you just signed up for."

The front door barely had time to shut before Toji was on you.

You let out a startled gasp as your back hit the wood, groceries completely forgotten at your feet. His hands were already on you—gripping your waist, tugging you closer, his body burning against yours.

"You took too damn long," he growled against your neck, his teeth scraping along your skin.

"I was literally gone for an hour, Toji—"

"Too long," he repeated, his tone dark, impatient. His hands roamed, fingers digging into your hips as he pressed himself against you, letting you feel just how hard he still was.

Your breath hitched. "You—You seriously stayed like this the whole time?"

He chuckled, low and dangerous. "Baby, you think I could jerk off and be satisfied when I knew you were coming home to me?" His lips trailed down your jaw, his breath hot against your ear. "Nah, I needed this. Needed you."

Your hands gripped his shoulders, trying to steady yourself as his lips moved down, pressing against the sensitive skin of your throat. "Toji…"

He smirked, tilting your chin up with two fingers. "What?" His green eyes were dark, filled with something hungry. "You told me to be naked when you got here. Thought you wanted this, sweetheart."

You swallowed hard, heat pooling low in your stomach as his hands slid lower.

"I do."

"Good." His lips curled into a smirk. "Then let’s make up for lost time."

Toji didn’t give you a chance to argue. He carried you effortlessly, his grip firm as he walked past the abandoned groceries, straight to the bedroom.

"Toji—"

"Shhh, baby," he smirked, kicking the door shut behind him. "You made me wait long enough."

He tossed you onto the bed, and before you could even adjust, he was on you—hovering, his massive frame caging you in. His dark green eyes roamed over you hungrily as his fingers slid beneath the hem of your shirt, pushing it up, exposing more of your skin.

"Fuck," he muttered, dragging his calloused fingers over your stomach. "Missed this."

"You saw me this morning," you teased, but your breath hitched when he leaned down, lips brushing against your skin.

"Not like this," he murmured against your stomach, voice thick with want. His hands gripped your hips, pinning you in place as he trailed kisses lower, his hot breath making your skin tingle.

Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging slightly, and he groaned, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Fuck, baby." He glanced up at you, his smirk dark and full of promise. "Hope you didn’t make any other plans for the night."

Your heart pounded as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down slowly.

"Because I’m not letting you out of this bed anytime soon."

Toji’s smirk deepened as he hovered over you, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns along your waist. His touch was teasing, his calloused hands warm against your skin.

“Missed you,” he muttered, voice rough with need. His lips ghosted over your collarbone, lingering just enough to make you shiver.

“You act like I was gone for days,” you teased, though your breath hitched when he nipped at your skin.

“Felt like it,” he murmured, pressing kisses along your jaw before tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark with hunger, but there was something softer underneath—something possessive, desperate.

His hands roamed lower, gripping your thighs as he settled between them. “You kept me waiting, baby. Think you need to make it up to me.”

His voice was playful, but the way his fingers dug into your hips told you he wasn’t joking.

You swallowed hard, your body reacting to the weight of his gaze. “And how exactly do I do that?”

His lips curved into a slow, wicked grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got a few ideas.”

He leaned in, pressing you further into the mattress, his breath hot against your ear. “And we’ve got all night.”

Toji’s smirk lingered as he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His grip on your hips tightened, his rough fingers pressing into your skin like he was grounding himself—like he’d been waiting all day just to have you close.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he muttered, voice low and husky.

You bit your lip, pretending to think. “Mmm, I don’t know, Toji. You seemed pretty occupied earlier.”

His expression darkened with amusement, and he let out a low chuckle. “Oh yeah?” His hand trailed up your thigh, deliberate and slow. “Was that before or after I was falling apart on the phone for you?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you remembered the message he’d sent, the way his voice had sounded so wrecked over the call.

He tilted your chin up, making sure your eyes stayed locked on his. “Drive me crazy like that again, baby, and I swear I won’t be so patient next time.”

You shivered at the promise laced in his tone.

His lips brushed against yours—barely a kiss, just enough to make you chase after him. His grin widened at your reaction. “Cute.”

“Toji—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, finally closing the distance, kissing you slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world to make up for the hours you’d been gone.

And judging by the way he was holding you, he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

He takes off your clothes fully since he's needy, naked, and fucking hard and leaking. You know he's suffering so he teases him a bit and grabs his cock and jerk it a bit.

He absolutely loses it.

He slams you to the bed slamming his long cock in you with long quick strokes. You choke on your own saliva. His cock hitting your cervix with every quick thrust.

It feels so fucking good that you can't even feel your legs, god, his thick cock veins hitting your sweet spots his sensitive tip bruising your cervix you couldn't think it could get better, until his finger started rubbing fast circles on your clit.

You shriek, about to get yet another noise complaint and orgasm but he cums inside and pulls out when you were on the brink.

"Toji what the hell?" You whine out. He smiles and pushes his cum back inside of you with his finger. "I was about to cum..." You say in a quiet whine.

He ties you up to the bed post your legs and arms spread apart. He's in between your legs leaving hickeys up your thighs he leaves a slow lick up your slit from your cum oozing hole to your clit slightly suckling on it. You try to squirm from your restraints but you can't so you just whimper and beg.

He grins, and whispers. "It's okay baby."

From soft sucks and licks, he suddenly starts aggressively sucking and groaning. He goes from tongue fucking, to clit sucking and its driving you crazy. You try to close your legs but you can't and you holler out with tears rolling down your face.

Your juices drip down his face, but that doesn't stop him. It only encourages him to get more excited, so he licks and suckles harder. You bawl your eyes out and and shake and you so badly want to close your legs.

It feels so good you have at least came 5 times. He had to make you come one last time. He kissed gently your thighs as his fingers work out your orgasm.

_

After all of that he pulls you into his arms. Tight. Kissing your forehead then slowly moved to your lips leaving a peck. You can taste your self on his lips but your too tired and over stimulated to do anything.

He suddenly breaks the silence. "My little squirter."

"Toji-!"

୨୧・・・・୨୧