You wake slowly to Choso’s whimpers every time his hips jerk forward, grinding his cock in desperate little thrusts into the sheets like he can’t help it. His face is turned toward you, lips parted, brows pinched…he’s having a fucking wet dream. “nngh—please—” and his whole body shudders, hips stuttering harder. His breathing is all ragged little pants now, hitching every time his leaking tip drags against the damp cotton.
You reach down between your bodies, fingers brushing the slick, swollen length of him where it’s trapped against his stomach. He twitches violently at the contact, moaning louder.
“Choso,” you whisper, wrapping your hand around him. His lashes flutter but he doesn’t wake. You contemplate waking him as you guide him until the fat head nudges at your slick cunt. You’re soaked already just from listening to him. You sink down in one smooth wet motion and his eyes snap open, “Wh—ah—fuck—”
“You—were—dreaming,” you breathe, already rolling your hips to take him deeper.
His face flames red. “I—I didn’t mean—shit—” His head drops back against the pillow with a groan that’s half embarrassment, “I—I seriously didn’t mean to—fuck, you feel—”
You cut him off by clenching hard around the base of him. “‘Mmf you’re s-so hard, Cho.”
He chokes on air, “Please—please don’t stop—” You bounce faster, the wet flap flap flap of your soaked cunt filling the room. “Shit—shit—feels—so tight so good,” he gasps, eyes rolling back, “Thought I was—nngh—gonna come in the sheets again—”
“Again?” You lean down nipping at his throat. “You do this a lot when I’m sleeping next to you?” His cheeks flush embarrassed as he tries to turn away but you catch his jaw, force him to look at you while you grind down slowly. “Tell me.”
“Y-yeah,” he admits flustered, “Almost every night—dream about you—fuck—just like this—riding me—using me—”
“Using you,” you repeat, thumb brushing over his flushed bottom lip.
Choso nods desperately, his eyes are glassy and pleading. “Y-yeah… fuck, yeah. You—you pin my wrists sometimes… tell me I’m not allowed to touch… just have to feel you come all over my cock—”
“Like this?” You grab both his wrists in one hand, pinning them above his head against the pillow. The stretch makes your tits brush his chest, “You dream about me like this?”
“God—yes—” His voice cracks as his thighs trembling under you. “Please—please let me—fuck—let me come inside you this time—”
You sit up straighter, release his wrists just to plant both hands on his chest and really ride him. “Hmm… okay,” you breathe, “But only because you’ve been such a good boy.”
Choso moans happily as he slams his hips up hard with fast, sloppy, desperate thrusts. “Fuck—thank you—thank you—” he gasps between whimpers filling you with cum, “Needed this—needed you.”
You keep riding dragging up and down his oversensitive length while he’s still twitching and leaking. Choso’s eyes go wide panicked. “W-wait—too much—fuck—too sensitive—ah—ahh—” His hands scrabble at your hips, “…You’re so mean,” he mumbles as you smile, brushing damp strands off his face.
“You’re the one who started fucking the mattress like it was me.” you say in between laughs.
He groans, throwing an arm over his eyes like he can hide from the memory. “I can’t help that I dream about you.”
In which Pervy roommate!Choso is your personal pussy cleaner
There exists, in nature, a mutually-beneficial dynamic between living things — a symbiotic relationship. Like the bird that eats debris and parasites from a crocodile’s mouth, or the pitcher plant and spiders that live inside it, who feed on the insects trapped by said plant.
Well, you have a sort of symbiotic relationship with your roommate, Choso: you save yourself a trip to the bathroom and he gets to have his fill of depravity. He needs it like air.
All you have to do is croak his name and he’s busting through the door with his beady eyes already fixated on the glistening of the sensitive skin of your thighs. He scrambles onto the bed, pushes your legs apart so he can slot himself between them, and he dives face first right into your cunt. No hi, hello, how are you?
Only lewd slurrrrrrpssss! and obscene squeeeeelchessss!
“Oh fuck,” he moans right on your clit, lapping up your essences and greedily gulping every ounce down. Choso doesn’t hesitate to slice his tongue down your other hole if so much as one drop escapes him. Within seconds, he already sounds drunk on the taste of you. “I was -hah- starving… light-mmm-headed. T-thought I might pass out.”
It’s a good routine.
But it comes with its own set of bumps. Like the fact that he will poke and prod incessantly, encouraging you to go finger yourself or ride your toys even when you’re not feeling it. Whether you’re eating, just got back from classes or work, freshly woken up, lounging, Choso’ll give you a small smile and ask, “Aren’t you feeling needy? Maybe your favourite hentai website dropped something good. Don’t you wanna check?”
“Leave me alone,” you demand through gritted teeth.
You’re starting to think he’s not very focused on cleaning you up in a timely manner at all — you even think he intentionally drags it out, purposely makes you cum once more, or twice, maybe even a third time so there’s more to suck, more to drink, more to take.
His eyes are glossy, face thoroughly soaked when you yank him back by the hair. He shakes you off and latches himself back onto your clit, wringing out more moans and lurid sounds from your body with the fingers he curls up against your gummy walls. “N-no,” he pleads, voice so pitchy and broken and desperate. “More. Give me -ngh fuck- more. I want more. Don’t push me away. Just lie back a-and let me make myself useful.”
Useful. Right.
So he wants you to pretend he’s not rutting his cock into the mattress of your bed, to pretend you don’t feel the headboard banging against the wall with the force of his grindings, to overlook the sporadic spasming and pornographic whimpers he lets out when he humps the bed to another orgasm. “Fine. One last one, okay?” you tell him.
Choso nods, cheek nuzzling your entire slit so he can feel your juices stick and dry on his skin even hours later. “Yes, yes. One last one.”
frat!gojo likes to secretly fuck librarian!reader…
you’re only a couple years older than him, but somehow scored a job at the college library. He thinks you’re so cute, sitting behind the desk, jotting down notes and keeping things organized. The first thing his eyes notice when he steps in is your button down blouse and skirt. He knows you’re in dress code, but he can easily picture what’s underneath, your shirt tight against your tits, and your skirt hugging your ass. He’s very aware he’s a perv. He keeps nasty photos and videos of you in a hidden folder on his phone, made for his eyes only.
He has pictures of you with his cum covering your face and tits, videos of you deep throating him in the back of the library, pictures of your cunt stretched around his cock. The list goes on. You’re such a slut and the average person wouldn’t even know. They don’t know how desperate you get for dick that you’re willing to fuck in a public space. He’s surprised neither of you have gotten caught, but that’s the fun in it.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He leans against the desk, looking down at you.
“Gojo, go away. I’m working,” you sigh, putting a book in the return bin.
“I just wanted to say hi,” he chuckles.
“Unless you’re here to return that book you checked out, I don’t wanna talk.”
He leans in closer towards you, smirking to himself as he reaches over plays with the collar of your shirt, pretending to fix it. “Isn’t your break soon? Maybe we can talk then?” He licks his lips.
Fifteen minutes later and Gojo has you on your knees in the employee only bathroom, your tits out and his cock down your throat. Both of your hands cup your tits, pulling at your hard nipples as he fucks your face. Spit messily coats your chin and drips onto your chest, your lipstick smeared across your face and his shaft.
“Stick out your tongue, baby.” He pulls out of your mouth, pointing the phone towards your face as he slaps his heavy cock on your tongue. He lets out a breathless chuckle, smiling down at you. “You’re such a fucking mess. Stand up and let me get a look at your pussy.”
You’re quick on your feet, hiking up your skirt as you bend over the sink, spreading your legs for him. The cold air hits your warm cunt, sending shivers up your spine. Gojo walks up behind you, spreading your ass, pointing the camera at your dripping pussy.
“No fucking panties? You were hoping I’d come visit you today, huh? So wet just from sucking my dick.” He stood up straight, rubbing the head of his cock against your folds, nudging against your puffy clit.
“Nngh! Hurry up my break ends soon!” You say between moans, gripping the edge of the sink.
“Impatient, are we?” He sucks in a deep breath, the swollen head of his cock pushing past your folds, your gummy walls wrapping around him inch by inch, stretching your poor cunt. “Mmmm, fuck you’re always so warm and tight.” His hand swats against your ass as slowly begins to move his hips.
You can feel yourself squeeze around him, sucking him back in each time he gets close to pulling out. The fat of your ass smacks against his hips, the sound echoing off of the bathroom walls. “Ah! Yes, yes!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Look at how fucking tight you’re gripping me, holy shit—fuck!” He groans. He points the camera towards the point where you two meet, capturing the way your pussy leaves a creamy ring around the base of his cock, squelching each time he pushes his hips deeper.
Your legs feel like jelly as he continues to hit that sweet spot at the very back. You can feel his cock throb against your walls, nestling his cock deep inside of you, his hips flush against your ass. “Ah! Fuck!” You squeal. He snaps his hips again, his strokes fast and ruthless, your entire body being knocked forward against the sink. “Just like that! Please, please,” you pant. Sweat clings to your skin, your body heating up the closer the orgasm draws near.
“You about to cum already?” He mockingly says. “What a greedy pussy.” He scoffs.
“Gonna…cum! Oh my godddd—I’m cumming!” Gojo slaps his hand over your mouth as you have a screaming orgasm. He can feel your pussy clench around him as he continues to fuck you, continuing to hit that sweet spot of yours to turn your brain into mush. Your body shakes in his hold, looking down at his phone to make sure he’s capturing the whole thing. A smile pulls at the corner of his lips, watching the way you coat his cock in your cum, covering it in white.
“Fuck! There you go! Yes, yes!” He grunts, thrusting into you hard, your ass rippling against his hips as he grows desperate to reach his orgasm. He bites down on his lower lip, trying his best to conceal his own moans so you two won’t get caught. “Oh shit…I’m gonna cum…oh fuckkk.” His jaw goes slack, tempted to cum inside of you but he quickly pulls out, his hand pumping his cock, nasty and slick. Thick ropes of warm cum land on your messy pussy, costing your folds and even some of your ass. His hips twitch, his cock sensitive as he drains every last drop. He breathes heavily, smacking your ass as he records the mess you both made. He ends the recording, laughing to himself.
“You got it all over me, Gojo!” You huff, feeling it drip between your legs.
“I’m sorry. Here.” He grabs some paper towels, wiping you up as best as he could.
“You’re lucky I have a pair of underwear in my bag.” You stand up straight, fixing your skirt and shirt. “My makeup!” You gasp, looking at your smeared lipstick and runny mascara in the mirror. “I can’t walk out like this!” You turn to him, smacking his shoulder.
“Not my fault you suck dick so good. Just say you were crying or something?” He shrugs.
“Ugh, whatever. I have to go. Don’t let anyone see you walk out this bathroom or—”
“Or we’ll both be in big trouble. Yeah, I know.” He nods, adjusting his belt and pulling his shirt down. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He gives you a sleazy smile, pulling you in by your waist.
“Maybe…we’re supposed to be really busy tomorrow.”
He sucks his teeth and roll his eyes. “You always say that and yet it’s never true. Come on, sweetheart, I can see that smile on your face.”
You turn away from him, trying your hardest to hold back your smile. “Fine. Tomorrow.” You nod.
“Can’t wait.” He kisses your cheek before you pull away. “Aye! Send me some pictures of you in the shower tonight, yeah? I’m in the mood for some soapy titty pics.”
“Whatever, play boy!” You roll your eyes, walking out of the bathroom, hearing him laugh at your response.
mdni - hehe this is a drabble style commission, reader is thicc/curvy, and Choso has a thing for thick thighs - lots of whimpering, mentions of oral, making out, dry humping, making him cum in his pants ofcc
hehe this is a drabble style commission- <3 2.4k wc!
You’re always running late to class – to anything, really, but especially classes on the weekend, you’re the tiniest bit hungover from a party, the lip stain you used not coming off no matter how hard you scrub. You’re tugging your skirt since it’s riding just a bit up your thighs, your professor looking at you utterly unsurprised.
You’re only in this class because it’s an easy A.
“Since you’re late – surprise,” you sigh and the class snickers just a bit. “You can get paired with Choso over there, he’s the only one not paired up.”
“Paired up for what?” You ask, walking over to him – fuck he’s hot, you’ve thought that for weeks now, but it’s not like you’ve heard him talk or said a word. He’s not unfriendly though, just seems super shy.
“You all have a ten minute speech to give next weekend.”
“Oh joy…”
Choso smiles as you sit at the table next to him, letting your laptop bag sit on the floor. The professor starts to explain just what it is you two will have to do, you’re barely paying attention because you never do, but Choso’s not paying attention for an entirely different reason.
Your thighs squishing just a bit in the seat as you lean back, you see his eyes catch them, making you tug your skirt down just a bit.
“I may not have done laundry and this was all I had,” you mumble softly, he laughs just a bit, shaking his head. It’s a slutty ass skirt but you had not thought to wash your clothes until the last minute, so they’re still running in the washer.
“Nah, it’s cute on you.”
You think this is the first time you’ve heard him talk – his voice is deep, so deep it surprises you, making your tummy clench just from how they sound.
“It is?” Your words are just a whisper, he blushes then, looking away – of course your thighs look good where he can see them, his hand itches to slip up and squish them himself, or just rest his head right on your lap.
“Yeah…”
“Thank you,” you’re tugging your skirt again a few moments later, shifting in your seat – how dare you try to cover them, really, but it’s more of a skirt you’d wear going out, not to class. You take your laptop out and start clicking around when Choso recognizes that anime character.
“You watch that?”
You look at him and smile nervously. “I do, it’s my favorite. You do too?”
“Oh yeah, I have a figure of him this big.”
You look at his hands, tattooed, those black nails, making your mind – still cloudy from the liquor last night – go to the filthiest places. “That big, huh?”
“Mhm.”
“I’d like to see it,” you curse yourself then, don’t you sound slutty, but he’s oblivious, smiling all cute and pushing up his glasses.
“Of course I can show you, we can work on the presentation in my dorm?”
*****
Choso’s frantically fucking cleaning his room, it’s pretty neat already but his brothers had come to party with him and messed it all up. He’s making his bed, wiping down his desk, he even goes over to start dusting his figures. You did want to see them, after all!
You knock on the door just as he’s grabbing a couple drinks from his little fridge out, he wants to be a courteous host, after all. He opens it up and smiles at you, you’ve still got that little skirt on and a sweater over it, hanging just enough off your shoulder that it’s bare. He pauses just a moment, realizing there’s gonna be a girl in his room, standing there in the doorway.
“Uh, can I come in?” You ask then, he snaps out of it.
“Of course, like of course you… come in,” he’s shutting the door behind you as you take it all in. “Here, do you like this flavor?”
“I do, thank you,” your fingers brush when he hands you the little soda, you open it and put it to your lips, setting your bag down on his desk. “Oooh, is this your collection? You have so many!”
“I’m a big fan,” he never thought a girl would find his collection of anime figures cool, but here you are, bending down to look at them.
Bending down.
Here you are bending….
Choso’s brain is short circuiting, he can see a hint of that lush ass with those panties you’re wearing, he tries to avert his eyes, flushing on his cheeks. You stand up and tip toe, peeking at his POPS now, turning and smiling over at him.
“These are so rare!”
“I think I got them at a con,” you walk over to him now, sipping your drink, a little drop slips down your lips, he swipes it before he can think better, making both of you pause.
“You um… go to cons?” You ask, his thumb still lingering, you’re lost in his pretty amethyst eyes – so dark but you can see the hints of color, lidded ones with a thick fringe of lashes.
His fingers feel so good on your face you’d love them to just stay, but he pulls them back finally, clearing his throat and sipping his drink like it’s a beer and he’s trying to catch a buzz. “I uh… do. Do you?”
“Hell yeah I do, maybe we could do one together? None of my friends like to dress up and go.”
“Hah – both of us go?” Choso, say yes, stop stammering – but you’re so pretty and you’re so close and… “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Can I ask why you’ve never talked to me before?” You say softly, snatching up your laptop and leaving the drink on the little coaster he has there, sitting right down on the plush rug at the bottom of his bed.
He rubs the back of his neck, sitting in the black gamer chair he’s usually playing shooter games in, rubbing the back of his neck a bit nervously. “I’m kinda shy, I guess.”
“That’s okay,” you smile and begin to tap at your keys. “I used to be shy, too.”
“Yeah?”
“I know, weird to imagine now,” you sigh a bit, resting the laptop on your thighs as you lean back against his bed. “All right, so what are we thinking?”
“I just hate presentations,” he mumbles, you’re studying the screen with your knees up just a bit, showing way too much of those thick thighs, he keeps picturing them squeezing his head to death.
What a way to die, though.
“Any ideas at all though?” you ease them down, crossing them at the ankle, tilting your head to look at him.
“Hmm…”
Nerdy, thick thighs and you’re hot? You’re like something out of Choso’s daytime fantasies when he jerks his cock.
“Choso?” You ask softly, his gaze is on your legs, his words gone quiet now, lips parted ever so slightly. “What’s up?”
“N-nothing,” his gaze goes back to your cute little face, but then you lean forward and he gets a glimpse of your tits and he’s throbbing hard. He feels like a damn pervert right now, turning and adjusting it, already leaking pre against his boxers.
“You sure nothing’s wrong?” You stand curiously, he spins his chair back to face you, thighs spread just so, your hands adjust his pigtails carefully, bringing those tits right in his face.
He’d love to see his dick move between them – really he’s not usually like this!? He does love thick thighs and a fat ass, but he can’t be acting like this. It doesn’t help you smell good and you’re so sweet, he’s been thinking of asking you out but hasn’t gotten the courage. Now you’re looking right at him, standing between his thighs, his hands flex just a bit on the arms of the chair, before they grab those hips.
“So, you think we should practice the presentation on each other?” You ask, far too close, he swallows nervously and nods. “Or… should we make out?”
“Huh!? Say wha-!?”
You giggle now, his eyes are drawn right to your lips. “Am I far off? You keep staring at my lips… do you want to kiss me?”
“I um… don’t want you to think I invited you here for that,” fuck he wants to kiss both sets of your lips.
“So just studying? That’s okay too,” you go to turn away and he spins you back around to him, capturing your lips in a desperate, needy kiss. “Mmph!”
“Fuck, sorry,” he pulls back, his hands already slipping lower.
“Tell me what you want…”
“You right here,” he tugs you on his lap, you feel his strength then, a little nervous as your thighs press on either side of his hips, hands resting on his shoulders. “Can I squish them, please?”
“My thighs?” He nods, all desperate and needy – you giggle nervously, nodding and letting his hands squish them, earning his slutty little moan. “Oh you really like them, huh?”
“They’d make the best rest for my head,” your turn to blush. “When I need just a break from eating you out.”
“Oh! Choso,” he’s surprising you with how utterly filthy he is when you kiss him, he’s not just shyly pressing his lips on yours, his mouth is parting yours, his tongue slipping inside. “Mmm…”
“Is this okay?” He asks softly, pausing to take a breath, you nod quickly, Choso’s never really kissed so he feels awkward, but you’re just kissing him right back, moaning into his mouth, rocking your curvy hips. His hands find purchase there, pressing in at your pelvis and making you gasp.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling back for a breath when his kisses lower, his mouth tracing your collarbone. Your back arches, his lips to trailing down your tits, rocking your hips against him, every drag of your soaking wet panties on that rough denim making you ache. His lips move to your nipple, your tit squished in one of his hands, as his tip presses that twitchy little clit.
"Mnh!" You cry out desperately, Choso's pulling back from your nipple, flicking his tongue ring against it and making you clench around nothing, aching to be full of him.
"Fuck your tits are s'pretty," he whispers against your lips, kissing you again, his grip on your ass tightening - his fingers dimple the flesh there, hands sinking into the softness of your plush thighs. "You're soaked..."
You moan as he starts to move with you, rolling his hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm that grinds his cock harder against your soppy cunt. It feels so good your eyes roll back, his sharp teeth nipping your throat, eliciting a slutty moan from the back of your throat.
He whimpers as you move faster, you're soaking his cock, every movement having your slick slide down your panties, coating the fabric until it's pathetic. He tugs at the elastic, slipping your skirt up to peek at the little tummy there, moaning. You get just a little nervous, tugging it down, but he shoves it back up.
"You're so sexy don’t hide, fuck you're so soft," he's marveling at it, hands gripping your bare hips, watching the flesh give underneath his grip.
"Y-you think I am?"
"Mhm," Choso's been jerking it to his curvy lil classmate, he's been dying to make a move - but he was just too shy. Now that all fades, he's shoving you down harder, mouth leaving hot, open mouthed kisses, leaning back to look at the sight of his bulge pressing between your puffy lips.
“S-sensitive,” you’re hitting your needy clit over and over, Choso leans back in his chair, his finger slipping underneath the elastic. “Ngh!”
“Want me to help you cum, pretty?” You nod quickly, a jerky little motion, the rough pad of his finger finding your twitchy clit, you quit moving, thighs pressing either side of his hips. “No, keep moving, pretty. Just like that.”
You never thought shy, sweet Choso could take a commanding tone, but when you’re drooling down his fingertip and all over his lap, he’s whimpering, his cheeks flushed red, eyes dark as they study you under that thick fringe of lashes.
“There you go, doing s’good,” your tongues are messy when you kiss again, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth, the sounds of him rutting his leaky cock mixing with the squish of your messy cunt.
“Ngh!” You’re trembling when he uses his arm to wrap around, grinding you on him and jerking up, sending you over until you’re cumming, gushing all down your inner thighs, your cunt slippery and messy as it quivers around nothing, he presses up more. “Choso…”
“Cum again, you can do it, hmm?”
Choso’s so close he can’t take it, feeling the plush cunt spurting on his sensitive tip, you’re making a mess of his hands, jeans soaked. He uses his other hand to grip that ass, more than a handful, he can’t wait to see it in every position, ones he’s only really imagined so far, but he’d love to do them all with you.
“That’s it, good girl…”
You’re kissing him again as your aftershocks hit, lips parted and gasping when he pulls his finger off, swiping it against your lips like a gloss. You cry out when he kisses it right off you, and that’s when Choso busts his load right in his boxers, his jeans dragged down with another rock of your hips.
You feel the warmth spread underneath you. “Oh… mnh… you’re cummin’ s’much…”
“Sh-shit,” he’s busted so much it’s leaking through his damn boxers, those jeans have slid down enough that the white, sticky drops are pressing against your cunt. You ease back and take a breath, blushing at the mess you two made.
“Choso…”
“Mhmm?” His eyes are all lidded and fucked out already, his glasses foggy from all your kissing, you adjust them straight again, biting your lip and looking down at his mess, taking a bit of it and lapping it off your thumb, making him whine out.
Satoru Gojo - hockey Star- loves three things - hockey, coke and women. Which is the reason his coach Sukuna wants to make sure he stays as far away from his niece - you - as possible. Raised by Sukuna after your parents passed, he is almost like a dad to you. Satoru can't help but become obsessed the moment he sees you spinning on the ice. But there's one big problem - an overbearing, grumpy one named Uncle Kuna. Is he right to protect you, or is there more to Satoru than what's on the surface?
❉pairings- hockey star! satoru x figure skater! reader
❉warnings - eventual smut, eventual angst, drug use, grumpy but loving Uncle Sukuna, shy/innocent reader, down bad Satoru - he's a bit of a hot mess at first. this chap - kissing, dry humping, mentions of sex, coke use, weed use, masturbation, obsessed Toru. wc-10.6k
this is a commissioned series for my bb @strychnynegirl ahh I am so excited! Art is a comm made for this story by @veroniicannot on IG - so no reposting, go follow her!<3
❉ headcanons ❉ playlist ❉ chapter two (soon)
chapter one
Satoru Gojo was the top hockey player there was – and with that came a ton of responsibility, when it wasn’t pressure from his parents for him to get into a pro team all of college, now it was making sure his teammates won. They were all experienced too, but Satoru was just made for the rink, he could glide on the ice like it was nothing, but he sure put in the time for it.
He was the captain of the pro team now, when their head coach was gone he was the one set to guide the other players, who all happened to be little stubborn shitheads. Satoru was leaning against the rink, watching his teammates run drills with his baby blue eyes that caught every movement, practiced and experienced, lashes as white as the ice below him taking it all in.
The sounds of blades scraping across the ice echo in his ears, mixing with the grunts of the players and the giggles of the girls who come practice figure skating, some of the boys ate it up. Satoru himself had a pretty large fanclub and even now blows them a little kiss, they all freak out and giggle, especially when Suguru executes a perfect slap shot into the top corner of the net.
“Shit, good job Sugu,” Suguru blushes when the girls start calling his name. Satoru always loves the attention but he’s a little more shy. “Kento, you’re going on offense now.”
Satoru has been on the ice since early morning as usual, yawning just a bit as he joins in, he’s pushing himself harder than anyone else as always – some nights he stays after everyone is gone and it’s all quiet, only his skates cutting through the ice making noise. Everyone saw how great he was, how natural things were to him, but it also came with thousands of hours of practice.
Day in, day out, Satoru was a perfectionist. Yet, he loved it – something freeing about focusing on the precision of his moves, wearing his body down until it’s exhausted and he can blissfully crash out for that two or three hours he gets. He loved the feeling of being utterly sore and spent, only to get up and push himself all over again – he was the best for a reason.
He glides across the ice to grab a drink, when he sees a girl he never has – not one from the ‘fanclub’ she’s completely different, quietly spinning in a pretty pirouette, He can’t stop looking at her, with those graceful movements that make it look effortless, blades carving delicate patterns on the of the ice as you glide along and make a series of jumps and spins.
Satoru can’t get his gaze off you – but then, he’s not the only one. It’s eerily quiet as the men eye the new girl, some of them commenting how pretty you are, some a little impressed with a spin you land like it’s nothing. Satoru had seen plenty of talented figure skaters before, but there was something about you that froze him in place, the cute little smile on your face when you landed a move.
The boys clap and you blush then, realizing you have an audience, a quiet little smile and wave, before going back to focusing. Satoru’s lost though, he can’t stop staring – yeah, you’re a pretty little thing, but he’s always got pretty girls in his bed. It’s not that, is it?
“She’s hot, right?” Comes one of his teammates, Satoru instantly gives him an irritated glance.
“She is pretty,” Suguru says then, smirking over at Satoru. “Oh shit, I know that look of yours.”
“What look? She’s… talented, mmkay?” They’re laughing just a bit, when Satoru sighs. “Fine, she is hot.”
“She’s my niece,” all of them turn around to see their hockey coach Sukuna skating up, crossing his arms and glaring at them now.
“Shit, your niece is hot-”
“Toji I’ll fuck your face up more,” Sukuna says, raising a brow and glaring at all of them. Sukuna used to be a hockey player himself, but now he coaches in his early thirties, he was pretty notorious for training the winning team. Everyone found him intimidating due to just how huge and angry he was, but Satoru simply raised a brow himself.
He knows he’s damn near better than Sukuna was. Sure, maybe he’s cocky, but… it was accurate.
“She’s your niece? Where’s she been?” Satoru asks curiously, you’re skating over, your eyes locked on Sukuna for a moment until you see his stance.
“Kuna –”
“Don’t call me that in front of them!?” They’re snickering, you pout just a bit, and are apparently so cute Sukuna sighs, ruffling your hair. “Don’t pull the puppy dog eyes on me, brat.”
“Be nice, hmm?” He sighs, Satoru has never seen Ryomen Sukuna soft whatsoever.
“Fine, they were saying how talented you were, right?” They all stand at attention nodding quickly, you look down shyly at all the attention, hugging your arms a bit, before smiling and looking at Satoru.
God you’re pretty.
The minute your eyes hit his, he can hardly handle whatever the fuck you’re doing to him, holding your hand out now. “You’re the captain, right?”
“Yeah that’s me,” he takes your hand with a cocky little smile, it swallows your tiny one as you tilt your head back a bit to look at him. “You are really talented out there.”
“Oh thank you so much,” a pretty blush dances across your cheeks now, your eyes looking back down. Fuck you’re cute. “You’re talented too, I’ve seen your videos all over.”
“Yeah?” Satoru grins now, skating a little closer. “You have?”
“That’s enough,” Sukuna cuts in, practically unclasping your hands now. “Let’s go talk for a minute, kid. I’ll be back to coach you little shits in a bit.”
“Sure, it was nice to meet you,” you say to Satoru, smiling a bit at him and then skating off, but you peer over your shoulder for a moment at him.
“Get your jaw off the floor, buddy.”
“Fuck off, let’s get to work…”
“Uncle Kuna, you were rude!” You’re saying, eyeing the handsome white haired player who gives you a little smile. “He seems sweet.”
“Tch, you don’t know that boy, any of those boys,” Sukuna hands you a drink and you take it thankfully. “It’s my job to look out for you, just trust me.”
“All right…” But how can you focus, when eyes that blue peer at you across the rink?
Gojo watches as you begrudgingly glide across the rink, but he just can't get that dopey grin off his face, Suguru shakes him out of it, Sukuna skates up and fucking glares at him. Yet he can’t stop looking, how you glide along the ice, spinning in pretty little circles, waving a little when you think Sukuna can’t see, just to have him standing right in front of Satoru again.
“Get to running those, now.”
“Calm down Kuna,” Satoru smacks his shoulder, grinning as Sukuna turns bright red.
“Stay away from her.”
“Why tell me that?” He raises a brow at Sukuna now. “Go tell Toji.”
“I just know your type, fuckin’ act all sweet and then not be serious, you won’t hurt her if I have anything to do with it.” Satoru sighs, grabbing his hockey stick and skating back over to his group.
If anything is known – it’s that Satoru Gojo was an absolute slut, he just loved to fuck, loved women, he loved getting his dick sucked. Why wouldn’t he enjoy all the perks of being a famous hockey player? Which absolutely included partying, snorting coke up his nostrils, having a good blunt and letting girls make out over his tip.
That didn’t mean Satoru was somehow against the idea of love or dating – he just was enjoying himself, Sukuna’s right in that he would corrupt a cute, innocent little thing like yourself. Fuck corrupting you would be so pretty though, imagining how cute you’d look learning how to take his cock – the thoughts have him hard in the middle of the fucking ice rink.
Satoru wishes anything Sukuna threatened ever sunk in – it didn’t.
*****
It’s been a week since he first saw you.
How can Satoru not come in early to watch you practice every morning, just acting like he needs more time himself, when he’s literally in peak performance. How can Satoru not just peer at you before he gets on the ice, when no one else is there, watching you so cute as you focus, as you fall and get yourself back up.
You’re goddamn adorable, he can’t stop the smile on his face anytime he catches sight of you, but he doesn’t really say anything, just waves as he practices, and the two of you are in a comfortable silence on either side of the giant ice rink. Satoru relishes every time you come by him, when you’ll skate by and ask him a question, tell him you admire his form.
Admire his form.
Satoru admires yours too, those outfits leave little to the imagination, and you’re achingly pretty, the way he can imagine wrapping his hands right around your waist… even when you practice with someone he gets furious. He hates seeing his pretty figure skater have another man spot or spin with her.
His figure skater? Has he really lost it?
He loves when you answer his questions, your shy but reserved conversation – some of the girls he hears call you stuck up, but it’s clear you’re not – even if you don’t really make friends. It’s more you’re achingly shy, and he knows it takes a lot in those moments you talk to him, when you hardly talk to anyone else.
Satoru can't help but picture you every night after you give him a little wave goodbye, when you’re in your cute little tracksuit and he gets just a hint of your tummy in his sight, a little dip of cleavage. God just your collarbones and how your hair falls when it’s out of that tight bun fuck him up – so much so fuck he strokes it to you like it's his own form of worship.
Every time he thinks he can have just a few moment with you, fucking Sukuna is there. Stomping around all angry, scowling right at Satoru, he makes sure to leave no space for Satoru to even find out more than your name and where you’re from. He’s gathered that you love to skate – of course – and that you like to read, by the books you bring in.
Old books, too, ones he googles when he gets home so he can have a hope to talk to you. Wuthering Heights is the one you always bring, so of course he studies all he can about it, bringing up oh so casually what he thinks of Heathcliff. You brightened up so pretty this morning, and he thinks that was the first time he heard your laugh, a soft little cute one.
Your nose scrunched up, all fucking adorable, and your eyes lit up as you softly agreed with him about Catherine, Satoru’s acting like he read a goddamn book from the eighteen hundreds to impress a girl. He's not sure when he got so pathetic, nor when the sight of a cute nose scrunching up started making him leak pre - but oh, it did.
He catches a glimpse of you as you’re leaving today, almost bumping right into him, your hands on his chest, his on your waist, thumbs pressing into the nip of it, the two of you pausing, eyes meeting. You get lost in his, your heart hammering in your chest, the feeling of his fingers on your skin almost intimate.
You’ve not had anyone even touch you – thanks to Sukuna always being absolutely insane about protecting you – if it wasn’t him, it was your brother Yuuji. Sukuna had practically raised you both together. He’s been off at school for a bit but he was also extremely protective of you, even though he was actually your little brother by a year.
“Hey,” he says softly, your lips part as you look at where your hand rests, feeling the beat of his heart steady underneath it. “You all right?”
“Um, y-yeah,” you can hardly talk, you’re so damn shy in general but especially around Satoru Gojo and his pretty blue eyes just looking right at you. “I’m all right, sorry…”
“Don’t apologize sweets,” you blush at the little name, he eases his hand off and you realize yours is still on him, yanking it back, he laughs just a little at that. “Headed home?”
“I am, um… it was…” Shit, you can’t talk at all, it was a little different with everyone on the rink, but just Satoru made it more difficult.
You hate being awkward.
That’s the thing about figure skating – you can be elegant, delicate and lovely, but in real life you stammered, you couldn’t talk half the time, it was all just too much, too overwhelming. Then you overthought every single word you said, replaying it over in your head, sometimes the dumbest shit that would come out of your mouth when you’re nervous would keep you up all night.
Even now he’s looking curiously and you still can’t talk. All you can think of is that cologne he’s wearing, the scent of him, how he feels so warm against you. How tall he is especially without the boost of your skates, the way he looks at you. Uncle Sukuna said all these things about him, partying and this and that, but it doesn’t deter you like it should.
He just… seems like he has a good soul.
You think you’re a good judge of that?
“I’m just standing here oh god,” he chuckles again, brushing a little lock of your hair back delicately, your heart hammers faster at the brush against your skin, feather light. “I’m sorry I’m not that um… I don’t talk alot. I know you’re trying to be friendly this week, I hope you don’t think I’m rude?”
“Not at all.” You exhale in relief. “I talk too fucking much,” you giggle then, so precious Satoru can’t stand it, hugging your body just a bit.
“No, you talk just enough, it’s nice to… I like talking to you,” you would have thought you said you wanted to kiss him, how flustered you get, trembling.
“Cold?”
“We are in an ice rink.”
“Right, that, I’m always warm,” he swipes his brow, a hint of his abdomen showing, that little v cut that almost ruins your senses. “You look flushed.”
“Oh I guess I am,” you’re shivering from being near him, trying to play it off then. “You are so great out there, especially helping Uncle Kuna.”
“I still can’t believe he’s got a little nickname,” you smile, looking down just a bit, making Satoru ache to tilt your chin up, to have a look into your pretty eyes, he almost fucking does it too, barely keeping his composure.
Since when is he nervous like this?
“There’s a party tomorrow, you should come.”
“Oh, no, I don’t do crowds and parties.”
“You… compete in front of hundreds of people?”
“Yeah, but I’m kind of alone when I do?”
“That makes sense,” he murmurs, curious about you more and more, as you put a hand tentatively to his shoulder. “Maybe another time?”
“If Uncle Kuna would ever let me,” he rolls his eyes.
“Uncle Kuna goes to those parties,” you gasp, Satoru grins. “He does it to ‘watch us’ like he’s so much older. He’s only in his thirties.”
“I know it’s hard to remember, he acts so grown up doesn’t he?”
“Nah, I’ve seen him playing beer pong, he screams grown frat boy,” you’re laughing again.
“He was one!”
“Fuckin’ called that shit,” Satoru takes your hand then and presses a little kiss to the back of your knuckles.
He’s never done that but it feels like the right move, you’re so damn pretty and sweet like some girl at a ball in the eighteen hundreds, none of that really makes sense but it does in his own mind. Plus watching you blush and your eye lashes flutter is probably the cutest thing he’s seen.
“Uncle Kuna didn’t say you were a gentleman.”
“I’m so not,” he lets your hand go, smirking and slipping his hands in his pockets then. “I am probably not that bad as he says though. He always has it out for me.”
“He seems really proud of you too though! Don’t tell him I said it,” Satoru pauses, cheeks reddening a bit.
“Are you in town for a while?”
“I’m staying with him and my brother for a bit. Actually, I was living in the dorms during college, but I want to try to get more practice, more… professional?”
“You look like a pro,” you smile and giggle all fucking cute. “You do.”
“Thank you Satoru,” you both walk towards the front doors now, the air is even chillier with the winter breeze, both of you slinging on your jackets. Satoru looks almost ethereal with the way the moonlight hits his face. “Good night.”
“See you uh, tomorrow?” You smile and wave, and Satoru can’t take that damn dopey grin off his face.
*****
Satoru's snorting a line up his nose as the music hums and the room is filled with everyone dancing that night. He's got a girl on either side of him giggling, both of their hands just touching on him, they’re pretty and he enjoys them usually, but for whatever reason he feels…
Off.
“Gimme a line, shit,” Toji’s big ass sits next to him and Satoru rolls his blue eyes, snatching one of the girls right onto his lap. “Wanna snort one off her.”
“My premium coke? You owe me,” Satoru watches as Toji lines that snow up on the girl, the other one leaning close with her lips against Satoru’s ear.
“Mmm, can you do one off me?”
“I can,” he’s chuckling and sprinkling powder right on her, leaned over with his nose brushing her skin, hand on her waist.
That’s what you walk into – so nervous to go to a party, but your friends on the team convinced you how fun it would be, just to catch sight of Satoru Gojo’s tongue lapping up a pretty skater’s neck. You know her somewhat, she’s pretty and sweet, giggling so loudly you can hear her even over the music rushing in the large house.
Suguru’s house apparently.
“Hey there,” he is the one who greets you, standing in front of the view you have of Satoru and those girls, the feeling so odd.
You don’t even know Satoru, how could you care if he was with someone?
“Hi, Suguru, right?” He smiles and takes your hand, a little kiss on the back of it making you flush. “I don’t think we formally met.”
“We haven’t yet, I’m glad you came,” he gestures around. “Please help yourself to anything at all, would you like a drink?”
“Yes please,” he nudges his head and you follow him around, Satoru’s gaze catching yours as he’s laughing, snorting another line off her, he falters just a bit, his lips parting. You just sort of give a small smile and avert your gaze – something about seeing him like that feels a little too intimate to witness.
You didn’t know he had a girlfriend or…
Two girlfriends?
“Here, something sweet,” Suguru pours you a little glass of wine, much different than the beer in everyone’s hands or the liquor lined up.
“How’d you know I’m not a drinker?” You ask, he just shrugs a shoulder, corking the bottle.
“A guess is all, I know these parties get a little crazy, just tell me if anyone bothers you, yeah? I’ll kick them out.”
“Thank you,” you place a hand on his shoulder, before clearing your throat and smiling, noticing Satoru walking your way, the girl tugging at his light blue jersey. “Is that his girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend? Oh, no he doesn’t…”
Satoru’s right in front of you, hands in his pockets, smiling in that way only he can, you see the smallest hint of residue on his plump lips, which he laps off with a flick of his tongue. “You came! I didn’t uh… think you would?”
“I did come,” you look down a bit nervously, clearing your throat and smiling now, sipping on the wine. “You look like you’re having fun.”
“Eh I guess,” he rubs the back of his neck, shifting a bit and looking at Suguru. “Got her the good stuff, huh?”
“Mhm, I’ll let you two talk,” he smiles at you as he walks away, Satoru is close to you – too close, you can inhale that scent in your nostrils, something just him.
You can’t be jealous of someone you don’t know.
You plaster on a pretty smile now, sipping the sweet drink. “You don’t have to come entertain me.”
“I invited you and it’s not… I don’t have to…” Fuck, why does he get tongue tied like this? “I uh… I really wanted to see you.”
“You did?” His big grin is your answer, leaning on the counter and ignoring the girls who try to call him over. “I think you’re kind of popular.”
“Yeah well they’re fine,” he takes your drink and sips it, putting his lips right where you had, his eyes darkening as they study you over the rim. “Mmm, yummy.”
Fuck.
Gojo’s licking his lips and doing insane things to your tummy, fluttering like there’s a million butterflies, he steps closer to you, brushing your hair back. “You really came.”
“I did,” you laugh softly when the music shifts.
“Wanna dance?”
“Oh um,” you flush and sip your wine, clearing your throat just a bit. “Are you sure you wanna dance with me?”
“That’s why I asked,” he sets his cup down, taking your glass and putting it in the fridge, you blink curiously. “Safer in there, a lot of people here tonight.”
You blink a bit curiously, tilting your head. “Safer?”
“From…” He trails off, taking your hand. “Guys can drug drinks, no one on my team would but other players? There’s some really horrible men, even if I haven’t personally seen it happen – I've heard shit.”
“You’re keeping my drink safe,” you melt as he shrugs as if that’s just something normal – so caring you ache.
Sukuna and Yuuji care for you but they’re family – Satoru is still a stranger.
“No big deal sweetheart.”
“It’s really sweet of you,” he gets a little flustered, tugging you into the enormous living room, with vaulted ceilings and fancy, modern chandeliers hanging. You look up in wonder at them, so pretty then, they’re glowing right along your face, and for a moment his breath is smacked out of his lungs.
Satoru could just stare at you all day.
“It’s so pretty,” you sigh now – blinking just a bit as your gaze is captured.
To be engrossed in a chandelier when everyone around him was just snorting coke, drinking, smoking…
“It’s very pretty,” he agrees, looking right at you. You catch sight of it and look back down nervously, biting your lip. “Hey, look at me.”
You raise your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest. “I suck at eye contact.”
“I’ll help you,” he turns you around in a little circle, tugging you against his hard body, making you melt. “It’ll help with skating when you’re competing, being able to look at the crowd.”
“That’s true, oh sorry!” You stumble a bit so he just picks you up, you gasp at that, you’ve had partners pick you up countless times but not like this, just spinning you and holding you up with your feet dangling.
“A figure skater who can’t dance? That’s insane baby,” you laugh as he sets you down on your feet, feeling the eyes of those girls now. “What is it?”
“I don’t think they like me,” you murmur, Satoru looks back at them and frowns just a bit. “They’re scowling.”
“Nah, they just…” He doesn’t even know what to say, he’s forgotten their names again. “Just curious about you.”
“You’re so different from what Sukuna says,” he snorts now, rolling his eyes and turning you, tugging your back against him. “He says you’re a menace.”
“Well I am,” you snort a bit, and he chuckles, feeling the curve of your ass pressing on his thighs. “You don’t think I’m a menace?”
“You just seem thoughtful and kind,” he pauses now, those words aren’t typically what people say.
Even though Satoru was kind, they typically just saw the confidence, the arrogance, the ego hiding so much. He pauses a bit and then grips your hips, moving them, his lips brushing against your ear as he bends down. “Move those hips like you do on the ice.”
You’re so nervous – people are looking at you two, if Sukuna found out he’d probably lock you up in your room, but you’re not going to tell Satoru no, you want to listen to him. His soft little commands are overwhelming, hips rocking back against him and then around with his guidance, your head falling back against his chest as you move with him.
“There you go,” his words are like honey, sweeter than the wine on your tongue, just those few sips already rushing through your body, heated up by him. “Turn and show me what ya got.”
You turn and look at him in those pretty blue eyes, earning his pleased grin, his lashes lowered as he leans down, tugging you against him again. “Everyone’s looking at us.”
“Mhm,” you start moving with him, finding his own rhythm, every little brush of his fingers igniting something inside you. “Feel the music, like you do in a routine.”
You close your eyes and feel it like he says, the music thrumming, the tingles that shoot out from the way his hands grip your hips, you’re rolling your hips without his help soon enough, body moving right with him. As if he’s your partner lifting you and guiding you during your moves, the way he spins you makes you dizzy, having you face him once more.
Your eyes flutter open and this pretty smile hits your face, making Satoru grin right with you, laughing softly just a bit, the girls are still murmuring about you, but at the moment you really can’t care. You feel so pretty with how Satoru just looks at you, though you wonder…
How much of this is just him?
Just charming Satoru Gojo who does this with everyone? Were others used to or immune to it? You find it nearly impossible to be.
“You’re doing it on your own, see? Look at you moving like that,” the way he’s talking hits something inside you, making your core burn up, your thighs clench together, every word shooting right between them. “Doing s’good.”
He’s muffling his words, spinning you again, lips now pressed against your cheek as he leans down, brushing against your skin. “You think so, Gojo?”
“Call me Satoru,” he corrects, his hand splaying your tummy, picturing how he’ll be able to see himself inside it, feeling fucking filthy. “Of course I think so.”
“I um… really…” The song comes to a halt and Toji steps up on the table, you swear it’ll break he’s so damn big, shouting at everyone.
“All right you drunk fucks,” everyone laughs at him, Satoru simply rolls his eyes, hands falling off your waist ever so slightly. “Time for us all to chug.”
“Chug?” You ask softly, Satoru sighs, fucking Toji ruining his moment with you for him to chug beer – Satoru hates beer.
“Yeah, I’ll be right back though okay?” You nod and he rushes over, as if he’s dying to get it over with, when the two girls who had glared daggers at you are on either side of him. He seems a little tense, but he doesn’t move, he just takes the can Suguru hands him, putting it to his lips.
You just met Satoru Gojo. You can’t go having all these feelings for a man who is a stranger, especially the gnawing jealousy as the girls all half naked are bouncing around, making you question your attire. Were you too prim and proper? Was Satoru into a more… bold woman?
Why do you care so damn much already?
Satoru, of course was in his element, he finishes his beer with a speed faster than everyone, slamming the can down before anyone else could – even Toji. “Hah, won like always.”
“Swear you take dick down your throat,” Toji grumbles, Satoru snorts in laughter, blowing him a kiss.
“You wish, baby boy.”
“Ugh,” everyone is laughing and cheering, you’re just watching ever curiously, smiling when his eyes find yours in the crowd, all twinkling and so pretty you forget the girls next to him.
The girl in the crop top on the left fists her hands in his jersey, pulling him down for a messy kiss.
You saw him kissing that girl earlier and… it was fine, you guess, but something about this one after he danced with you…
Fuck you think too much into things.
He was having fun, you’re planning some romantic love – you’ve always had your head in the clouds, you suppose now is no different, your heart just fucking hurts though. He pushes her off him and clears his throat as you rush over to the kitchen, dying to drink that wine suddenly.
What was wrong with you?
“Hey… easy,” Satoru’s annoyed as shit, but how can he explain to a girl he just had in his lap grinding on him that you’re here, and he only wants to talk to you, to look at you.
It’s insane, whatever it is you do to his mind, he feels bad for a moment when she pouts. “But Satoru, I was hoping you’d come home with us.”
“Both of us,” the other girl bounces over right next to her, and normally Satoru would be all about fucking two pretty women, seeing them fuck.
What was wrong with him?
His eyes go to find yours and he sees you over there talking to Suguru, who brushes a lock of your hair back, it’s nothing lewd or forward – it’s sweet if anything, but it stabs him right in the fucking chest. Your eyes meet his and lower when these girls kiss on him, something he’s never felt embarrassed or ashamed about. It’s not like Satoru has ever even dated a girl.
All he does is party, fuck, play hockey, repeat. Countless girls on him, underneath him, sucking him down, fighting over who could swallow his cum first, never has he had a moment to question it. Anything to fill those lonely times, those thoughts when he’s all alone in his home, and he feels that loneliness, that exhaustion.
Never has he felt so goddamn mad his friend is laughing with a girl, the friend he’s fucked girls with, he wants to smack his goddamn hand.
“I gotta go, not tonight,” he mumbles, rushing toward the kitchen, hands in his pockets and smiling at Suguru and you, as if everything is fine. “Sorry about that, they’re fucking clingy.”
“They like you alot,” you murmur, Satoru just blinks a bit, lips parted. “You don’t have to hang out because you invited me, have fun.”
“What!? No, not at all,” his phone starts buzzing like crazy, he puts it on silent, reading all the messages from girls asking him to come over.
“Satoru’s the most popular,” Suguru says, not in a mean way, it’s sweet if anything. “Me not so much.”
“What? Everyone was gushing about both of you,” Suguru blushes and you giggle, you’re not used to someone blushing as bright as you do.
“I am not as good with attention.”
“I love attention,” Satoru grins and you giggle just a bit, before noticing the lipstick stuck to his mouth – an obnoxious glitter. “Have something on my face?”
“Yeah,” you lean forward and swipe the glitter off his lips, he sucks in a breath at the act, before he sees all the glitter on your finger. “Your girlfriends are sparkly.”
“Not girlfriends,” he grabs another drink and downs it, cursing internally, feeling like he’s already fucked it up somehow, even if you’re smiling and just sipping your drink. Suguru is enamored with you, he doesn't even look Satoru's way.
Maybe when Suguru asked if he thought you were pretty he should have admitted it and not deflected.
“Well I'm glad if I didn't ruin your fun or anything,” he curses internally. He invited you here but he didn't take into account who you are.
You're different from anyone here and he'd never want to change that, but how did he think you'd fit into such a crowd? Of course you'd talk to a much calmer person like Suguru amidst the chaos.
Yet he wanted you here.
“Not at all, I'm always partying. I promise I'm not missing out,” he clears his throat now, when Choso walks over to them. He's related to Sukuna so of course he knows you, immediately giving you a hug.
“Hey! Oh god, Sukuna is gonna kill you,” you sigh and nod, covering your face.
“I know, don't tell him!” He holds up two fingers.
“Secret is safe from me, plus it'll do you some good to get out,” he looks at Satoru and Suguru now. “I'm glad you're with them and not some randoms though, in that case I'd have to snatch you out of here.”
“If you're Sukuna's nephew…” Suguru – stoned already – tries to put two and two together as he looks between you both. “And you're his niece… How many does Sukuna have?”
“A lot,” Choso admits, lips twitching up with amusement. “Our family is all over the place,” he sighs now. “You know Yuuji is joining the team soon?”
“Yes he's so excited! Choso you should come over for dinner sometime?”
“I can soon,” he tugs out a blunt then, smirking. “Do you partake or is this too crazy?”
“I haven't before,” you blush a bit. “Will it mess me up?”
“Nah it's more calming, but I'll leave it up to you,” someone starts shouting for him, Choso was absolutely the plug of the hockey team. “Here, give it to them or smoke it, no pressure. Just be careful when you get home. Sukuna used to cuss me out when he caught me.”
You smile at him and nod, taking the blunt curiously, looking at the two men. “Um have you all…”
They chuckle. “Maybe every night before bed?” Suguru says, you giggle at that, handing it to him.
“I also partake, but it can make you a little dizzy,” Satoru says softly, looking over at Suguru. “We should do this in private, she's already got a couple fan girls and I don't want any drama for her.”
“Fangirls?” You ask, Suguru tops off your wine then gestures for you to follow them both.
“As in – they're jealous of you,” Suguru answers, leading you up the stairs into his room. “Try not to let that all get to you too much.”
“I do feel they think I'm stuck up,” you mumble, heart racing when Satoru's hand rests on the small of your back for a moment, helping you avoid a very drunk partygoer stumbling all around. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” his touch feels far too good – but a part of you tries to remember the kisses he got, the glitter on his skin. He is probably someone who doesn't date, and your heart couldn't take anything casual. Even if it's difficult not to react to any touch or look.
“It'll be quieter in here,” Suguru looks at you then. “Are you comfortable coming in my room?”
“Yes,” you murmur. You've heard only good things about Suguru – a gentleman by even Sukuna's words, and you already feel comfy with Satoru.
Sukuna would kill you if he knew you were gonna smoke a blunt at a party in their room. Something about that mixes you with panic and a little thrill – you're always such a good girl, a little fun is exciting as it is scary.
“Have a seat,” Suguru takes the chair, you and Satoru sit at the edge of his bed – your thighs brushing against each other as Suguru takes the blunt and lights it up, inhaling and tilting his head back a bit. “What do you think – first party and all?”
“I don’t know if it’s really my scene,” you admit softly, Satoru feels just a little bit of guilt for inviting you, but you’re quickly smiling at him. “I’m glad I came, though.”
“Yeah?” He exhales almost in relief when you nod, smiling a bit, your legs crossing, that cute little skirt slipping up your thighs.
“Good, though I’d suggest being very careful,” Suguru says, leaning forward and handing you the blunt. “I don’t want Sukuna to lose his shit, but also parties other than ours? Get really rowdy, especially Naoya’s.”
“Oh, is that the blonde guy? He’s…”
“A dick?” Satoru finishes, you blush now. “It’s okay, we all hate him too, just a hell of a player.”
“He was kind of lewd with his… he hit on me and…”
“What?” Satoru glares, Suguru clears his throat, standing and holding your hand in his, smiling.
“Want me to show you how?” You nod, realizing that you’re still holding the burning blunt in your fingers. “Put it to your lips and suck, just enough to fill your mouth – not so much that you feel sick, all right?”
“Yes,” with his help you wrap your lips around the blunt, inhaling just a bit, the smoke filling you too thick, you immediately cough. “Oh!”
“You all right?” Suguru and Satoru both touch your back carefully, you nod and pass it to Satoru, he takes a big drag of it, filling his lungs – even that is attractive honestly, your heart is racing just being so close to him.
“When did Naoya hit on you?” Satoru asks, passing the blunt back over to Suguru, blue eyes focusing on you.
“The other day, ‘nice ass new girl’ and he asked me to come over, got all offended because I didn’t respond… I was just too nervous and it made me…”
“Surprised Sukuna hasn’t beat him,” Suguru says, handing it to you with a frown.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I’ll say something,” Satoru’s words make you inhale just a little too much of the blunt this time.
You’re coughing all delicate, even that’s cute, Satoru notices, Suguru curses then when his phone starts going off. “What is it, Sugu?”
“The same shit as always – speaking of the little shit, Naoya and Toji are fighting.”
“Again?”
“Yep, I gotta go break the shit up before they destroy my place.”
“Fuck,” Satoru tenses just a bit, seeing you still coughing a little. “Need me to help?”
“Nah it’s fine,” Suguru leans down a bit. “Are you all right here, love?”
“Yes,” you clear your throat and smile. “I don’t think I can handle smoking very well.”
“You took a hit like a champ,” he ruffles your hair affectionately, before doing the same to Satoru, making him glare. “I’ll see you two downstairs, but wait a bit – that shit is gonna get rowdy. Just let me know if you need anything, okay? Water, food, a ride – don’t be shy to ask me or Satoru.”
“Oh,” you blush at how thoughtful the two men are. “Thank you, Suguru.”
“Good luck with ‘em,” Satoru grumbles, Suguru walks out and shuts the door behind him quickly, you faintly hear just a bit of the rowdiness in the huge home Suguru has, muffled once more by the door.
You’re alone with Satoru Gojo.
“Are you all done, sweetheart?” He asks, holding the blunt to his lips and inhaling the thick plume of smoke, blowing it upward after holding it in.
“I think I suck at taking hits,” he smiles and shakes his head, a hand brushing back a little tendril of hair. “It’s very new to me.”
“You don’t suck at all, here you can… I can breathe the smoke in your mouth, it’s less that way? But only if you’re okay with it,” you blush furiously, and he notices.
“Wouldn’t that be a kiss?”
“It would be a kiss,” he whispers, leaning closer now, fingertips brushing against your cheek.
“I don’t want to kiss that glitter,” you glare a little and he laughs, shaking his head and slipping chapstick out of his pocket, swiping it on. “Hmm, I don’t know, I think I see a little bit.”
“I swear I don’t want their glitter on me,” he pauses, lips parted just a bit, taking your hand in his. “Wipe it all off real good, the slutty glitter.”
You giggle, the smoke and drinks rushing through your system, coming close and swiping the remaining sparkles off his lips, until you’re achingly close, your thigh almost over his on the bed. His hand brushes against it, swallowing nervously as you lean close to him, and the blunt is still in his hands, burning out slowly.
Should you tell him you’ve never kissed? What would he think, you in your early twenties and not a single one? A lot of it was Sukuna, but a lot of it was your shyness, the way you didn’t open up to people easily. Yet thinking of kissing those soft lips has butterflies rushing through your tummy, has you so dizzy as he looks into your eyes the way only Satoru Gojo can.
But could you remember that he’s not serious like that? Could you just kiss him to do it, when you’re a little hopeless romantic?
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” he murmurs then, hand slipping higher, thumb brushing little circles on your thigh, making you soaking wet – to the point it’s embarrassing. His gaze flickers down your body for a brief moment, sighing just a bit. “I didn’t invite you here to get anything like this from you, I get that you’re…”
“What, Satoru?”
He swallows again, leaning closer. “Innocent, sweet, off limits… I want you to have some fun but I don’t want you to think that’s what I asked you here for.”
“Why did you ask me?” You ask then, he sighs, nose almost brushing against yours.
“Call me very curious about you, who you are, what makes you tick… I am achingly curious about you, pretty little figure skater,” you blush even more, and he chuckles a bit. “Your cheeks are burning hot.”
“You think I’m…”
“Pretty? Yeah,” his lips press your cheek, feeling the warmth against them, and you ease even more onto his thigh, until he can almost feel your heat. “Who doesn’t think you’re pretty?”
“I um… wanna try the…”
“Shotgun?”
“It sounds like trouble,” he laughs softly, bringing the blunt to his lips and looking at you under those white lashes.
“I’ll inhale it and blow into your mouth, you keep it in as long as you can, but don’t make yourself dizzy,” you nod and he tugs you firmly on his lap now, your hands on his shoulders, breath caught at the proximity.
You’re on Satoru Gojo’s lap – you, top figure skater, achingly close against the top Hockey star.
But right now, you’re just a boy and a girl, and Satoru for all his experience looks very boyish right now, blushing himself as he inhales the smoke, and his hand entangles in your hair. You lean down, your lips against his for the first time, feeling the smoke blow into your mouth in a cloud, his hand snaking around to the small of your back as he blows.
Your first kiss is with Satoru Gojo.
He pulls back and you blow the smoke out, but his eyes are different – lidded and sultry, his lips parted just so, glossy from your own. He kisses you once more, tugging you even further on him, and your eyes flutter shut, rocking into the sensation of him, getting high off his kisses, when his tongue swipes in, you pause – pulling back and gasping.
“Too far?” He murmurs, setting the blunt on the ash tray near the bed, leaning just a bit as you cling to him, you fall just a bit further as he loses his balance, now on his back with you on him.
“I’m so sorry…” You whisper, he leans up on his elbows, hands on your thighs, taking them over. “I um… it wasn’t too far.”
“No, you sure?” He asks softly, you’re pushed to the center of the bed looking down at him, feeling just how hard he is.
You’ve seen things, read things, but you don’t know what’s real and what is for fiction or for show, suddenly so nervous, but you lean forward and kiss him again, intoxicated from his lips. The cherry chapstick seeps onto your tastebuds, when he flicks his tongue against yours again, moaning.
“I haven’t kissed,” you whisper, shutting your eyes in embarrassment, Satoru’s quiet. “I know, how haven’t I? It’s so… em-”
“It’s cute,” he cuts you off and answers softly, cupping your face with one hand as he sits up. “Hey, look at me.”
You do just that, and suddenly Satoru feels something he can’t place, some sort of protective feeling towards you – just as much as he wants to corrupt you, have you arch for him, ride his face. Another part wants to make sure you’re sweet like this forever, to not ruin that part of you, the little innocent one that’s looking at him so trusting then.
Was Satoru any good for you? Sukuna was right about one thing, he wasn’t serious about anything but hockey, but how can he not want to show you how to kiss? How can he not want to claim your lips first and drink your sighs, feel the gentle weight of you on his hips, your thighs pressing tightly – all those years of training he can feel underneath his fingertips.
“You’re precious,” he muses out loud, you giggle and shake your head. “Why’d you pick me, for the first kiss? Isn’t that a big deal to you?”
“Yeah it is,” your words are soft and breathy, he can feel your heat rushing against his cock, the one aching to slam inside you – but he can hold himself back, he has to hold it all down. “It feels right to kiss you, is that really odd to say? Am I sounding high already?”
He laughs softly, shaking his head and letting his lips brush against the tip of your nose. “No sweetheart, I think if you feel something you should be able to say it to me. Do you want me to show you how to kiss?”
“Could you?” You ask carefully, biting on your lip and drawing his attention to it. “I am afraid I won’t be very good at it like…”
“Yeah no need to compare yourself,” he already knows you’re beyond those girls – he should feel bad that he suddenly doesn’t care about the fun he had with them, maybe he will later.
Right now he just wants to kiss every inch of your cute little body – but for this very moment, he leaves it to your lips, pressing again and sighing, precum leaking and making his cock stick to his boxers. You exhale and lean into the kiss, rocking your hips and then pausing.
“I don’t know why they’re doing that,” he laughs softly, drunk off just the way you’re looking up at him.
“Dancing like earlier,” he whispers, hands coming to rest on them, his thumbs pressing against your pelvis and feeling you rock once more. “Does it feel good?”
“Too good,” you pause your hips with a shaky breath. Satoru looking at you like this, kissing you like this? How badly could it hurt you, if you fall the way you think you already are? “Um how do I… your tongue… I’ve only seen people do it.”
“Ah, you just move it along till we find a rhythm,” he kisses you again, tongue slipping in your mouth, tilting his head as his snowy lashes flutter shut, tickling your cheeks, they’re so long. “Try to move it.”
“Okay,” you tentatively move your tongue against his, matching the movements – his tongue is long compared to your little pink one, taking your mouth over like he’s drinking you. “Mmm…”
It's awkward at first when you try, going too fast, too slow, like a routing where you’re just learning the movements, but Satoru is patient, he doesn’t push it, pulling back and laughing softly, pressing kisses on the corners of your lips. He guides you, his tongue stroking yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm that takes your breath.
You’re mad that anyone ever kissed Satoru – and you know that’s toxic, you know it’s insanity when you both aren’t together, but you feel it anyway, as your hips start moving again, grinding against his cock which just keeps thickening. You can feel every inch of him through the thin fabric of your panties, already soaked, dripping onto his dark blue jeans.
Satoru groans into your mouth, his hands tightening on your hips bruisingly, pulling back to gasp for a breath, his pupils blown out. "Fuck…”
“Good? Bad?” He laughs and shakes his head.
“Little too good,” he winces when you move again, knowing he’s going to be aching when you leave, gonna have to jerk his cock to you.
Not like he hasn’t already.
Several times.
“You’re a natural at it,” he murmurs, kissing your chin, down your jaw, your lashes flutter shut when his lips touch the nape of your neck, making you cry out – this sexy sound that fucking ruins him. “You sound like that from a kiss on the neck?”
“Mnh,” you whine out again, his lips burning hot on your skin, like he’s kissing little memories all over them, your hands entangle in his white locks, soft and fluffy in your touch, his hand slipping up to grip a breast. “Ah!”
“You have no idea what you're doing to me sweetheart,” he’s damn near babbling, so lost in your natural sensuality, you don’t even realize the chokehold you have him in with every breath. The weight of your pretty tit feels perfect in his palm, thumb brushing a circle around your nipple as he teeth nip your ear. “Wonder how you sound if I kiss you here, and here, and here….”
Satoru’s lips trail down, your bare shoulder, his other hand slides up your back, underneath that top, his long, calloused fingers tracing patterns on your skin. You arch into his touch, your nipple so sensitive, you’re getting dizzy from him, head falling to the side for more of his hungry kisses, the flicks of his tongue, the scraping of his teeth.
“Satoru…”
“God,” he murmurs your name before he finds your lips, searing a kiss right on your mouth once more, until the both of you can’t breathe. “Do you want me to make you cum?”
“M-make me…”
“You don’t have to touch me,” he whispers, hands slipping back down to your thighs, eyeing the slick that’s dripping down them. “You’re soaked, baby.”
Baby.
Fuck.
You’re so dizzy now, it can’t just be Satoru – not when the room is starting to whir, and you gasp out, pausing with your nails pressing into his shoulders, Satoru looks up at you now, brows drawn together. “Hey, are you all right sweetheart?”
"Everything's... spinning a little,” you whisper, his hands are on your face instantly, his expression shifting from heady desire to worry immediately.
"Hey, look at me, I’m right here, yeah? Am I spinning too?”
You try to focus on his pretty blue eyes, but they even seem to be swirling. "Yeah, just... maybe the blunt? Or wine? I feel a little dizzy."
His thumb is stroking your cheek gently in little circles, as he takes a breath, willing his cock to go so he can focus on making sure that you’re all right. "Okay, that's enough for tonight, yeah?”
“Oh but I… wanted to…”
Satoru smirks now, easing you off his lap, little gossamer strands of slick pulling and dissolving from your panties to his cock where you’re connected. When you see the mess you made and cover your face, horrified, Satoru just looks at you curiously, brushing back your hair.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m so sorry, oh god,” he looks down at the wet patch you left and grins, a devious little grin then.
“That?” He uses his thumb to brush the slick you left, glistening with an embarrassing amount of your arousal.
“Don’t make it worse! It’s already – ah… hah you’re… um…” You can’t speak when he sucks your arousal off his fingertip, lips wrapping around it, moaning and shutting his eyes as his cheeks hollow.
He’s tasting your cunt right off his pants.
“Fuck,” he’s looking right at you again, lids heavy like he’s as fucked up as you are on him. “You’re so sweet.”
“I am?” He laughs again softly, nodding. “You tasted me?”
“Mhm.”
“Can I taste you?”
“Dear god,” you blush now as he groans, laying back on the bed for a moment and covering his eyes. “You can’t say that, looking all pretty and fucked out already, I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“I just thought if you taste me –”
“Come here,” he tugs you down for one more kiss, you land on his chest and he tilts your chin, exhaling, his breath tickling your lips. “Another time maybe, yeah? Driving me insane.”
“Am I?” You’re so fucking cute you clearly don’t know you have Satoru Gojo of all people about to cum in his damn pants.
“Very,” his hand runs down your arm carefully. “Lemme take you home.”
“You’ve been drinking though?”
“I don’t drive,” you blink curiously and Satoru chuckles. “Driver, he takes me wherever. I can take you home and head to my place.”
“Is it out of the way?”
“Not at all, you’re staying with Sukuna, yeah?”
“For a bit, till I get my own place out here yeah,” he nods and soon he’s fixing your outfit so no one could tell you’d had it scrunched up, tugged down.
“Did you eat today?”
“Uh,” you frown when you all step into the cool air after leaving the party and saying good bye to Suguru. “I think I ate a string cheese.”
“What now?” He frowns at you. “And you trained?”
“I ate some cereal this morning!”
“No wonder you’re dizzy, your girl dinner shit,” you laugh at that, stepping into the back of the car with him. “You have to eat if you drink, and you really should eat with how much you train.”
“I kind of forgot,” you admit softly, fiddling with your skirt, you’re so close to him in the backseat, and you can feel those butterflies all over again. “So those girls… they’re not your girlfriends?”
“No sweetheart, and no deflecting from the fact I’m getting you food,” he leans forward and pulls aside the partition, telling him where to go.
“Do you um… date, Satoru?”
“I um,” he rubs the back of his neck now, sighing. “Not really, but it doesn’t mean I wouldn't, I just… haven’t.”
“Same I haven’t either,” he smiles softly at you. “Though I didn’t have fun quite like you.”
“That’s okay, no need to be a slut like me,” you giggle and the sound is so cute he thinks he’d like to hear it every damn day. “How about if you eat really good all week for me, we sneak a date next weekend? It will be a first for us both.”
“A date?” You’re a blushing mess now, his own heart is racing.
Satoru hasn’t gone on a date – he’s fucked so many women, he’s had drinks, gone to their place, had them over. Small talk, not just sex, aftercare of course, but he’s never just gone out. Where would he take you, what did you like? And most importantly, how the fuck could he not let Sukuna know?
He’s a walking dead man if he knew his niece had her cunt soaking Satoru’s clothed cock tonight.
“A date, I’d like it,” you frown a bit then. “But Uncle Kuna…”
“Yeah, we’ll have to be pretty discreet,” he mumbles, you two stop and he orders you both food out the window quickly. “I think he’ll kill me if he knows we take one.”
“He will,” you sigh and take the fry he hands you, nibbling it from his fingers. “Oh I never get fast food! Sukuna’s always making healthy, protein-filled blah blah.”
“That’s good but for the weed munchies? Greasy fries,” you’re giggle as he feeds you carefully, and Satoru doesn’t know how the fuck he’ll not take every bit of time you want to give him.
He wishes he felt bad that you’re Sukuna’s niece.
He really doesn’t though, not when you’re taking a little bite of a burger and he’s dabbing your lips, smirking at you. “You’re stoned, baby.”
“Shit, I am,” you sigh and shake your head, sipping on the coke now. “I don’t think I’ll smoke again.”
“That’s probably a good idea, especially if you’re not used to it,” he sips from the same drink, lips wrapping the straw, you swipe a little drop off his lips, making him pause. “Dangerous, sweetheart.”
“Dangerous, hmm?”
“Very,” he sets down the food and cups your face, kissing your lips, sighing. “Not much is stopping me from having you cum on my fingers tonight aside from you being dizzy.”
“Oh? Oh,” your mind is flitted with filthy images as the car stops.
“And Sukuna killing me, but I think it’d be worth it to hear you moan,” you bite down on your lower lip, earning his frustrated little moan, tugging it from the grip and kissing you once more. “Get some rest, yeah? No date if I catch you calling a string cheese a meal.”
“Yes, sir,” your words about fuck him up more, sneaking one little kiss and smiling. “Tonight was so much fun, Satoru, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he shouldn’t be thanked when he wants to drag you right back on his lap. “Good night sweetheart.”
“Good night.”
You’re all giggling and blushing when you walk inside – just for Sukuna and Yuuji to be sitting at the dining room table, both looking at you. Yuuji, with worry, Sukuna is fucking scowling at you.
“Uh, Yuuji, you are here! Yay!”
“Yeah I flew in tonight,” you rush over and hug him, and get a little dizzy once more, he frowns, leaning back and looking at you. “Are you all right?” He whispers, as if Sukuna won’t hear.
“She’s drunk, are you drunk young lady!?”
“No sir!” You stiffen up and he snorts, rolling his ruby red eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Are you lying, brat?”
“Yes sir,” you mumble now, shoulders falling just a bit. “I only had two glasses of wine, I’m just a lightweight.”
“Wine at that party?”
“How’d you know?”
“So you did!”
“Ugh,” you go over to the fridge and grab a cold water, downing it in greedy gulps, for your uncle to scoff. “What?”
“You’re stoned too?”
“How do you know!?”
“Okay – I’m gonna sleep guys, aha,” Yuuji waves and rushes off, leaving you to the wolves, Sukuna walks right up to you, grabbing the water.
“Uncle Kuna…”
“Don’t Uncle Kuna me and bat your lashes,” his jaw tenses, filling your water with electrolyte powder. “I won’t have you hungover tomorrow.”
“Oh,” he shakes it up then hands it back, you take it gratefully, pouting and looking at the bottle. “I am sorry I went to the party, just I’ve never been to one, and I wanted so badly to see what it was all about.”
“And did you enjoy it?” You smile now, and he scowls again. “Let me guess – Satoru Gojo invited you.”
“No!” Sukuna raises a brow, making you roll your eyes. “I hung out with him and Suguru, but they were very polite.”
“Uh huh I’m sure, I swear if they harm a hair on your head–”
“I’m not a baby,” your words hit then, he frowns and looks away, making you sigh, shutting your eyes and hugging the big man tightly. “Uncle Kuna, I know you just care.”
“I have to take care of you kids,” you nod and swallow down emotions, as he pats your back. “You’re still a baby, you just think you’re grown.”
“Says such an ‘old wise man’.”
“I am.”
“You’re not much older than me,” he frowns and ruffles your hair.
“You smell like loud ass blueberry weed, I know that was fucking Choso, I’ll beat him too.”
“No you won’t,” you glare and he just tugs you tighter, squeezing you to death in his form of affection. “I won’t smoke again, but can I get credit for being twenty-two before I did?”
“No you can’t,” you’re unceremoniously shoved off him now. “Get your ass to bed, I will not let you sleep in, you have that new trainer.”
“All right, fine…” You kiss his cheek and he hides his smile, before he thinks of how he’ll kill Satoru tomorrow.
You lay in your bed and giggle, taking your phone out to see Satoru has texted you good night, you text him back with a little heart.
A date with Satoru Gojo.
The Satoru Gojo who couldn’t wait to get home, the moment he does he’s leaned against the door, he’s got his cock in his hand, spitting on it and moaning out, stroking it up and down in filthy motions,
The Satoru Gojo who couldn't even wait to get home before he's got his cock in his hand, spitting on it and moaning out, stroking it up and down in filthy motions, is picturing you. His thumb smears the precum drooling on his pretty blush tip, making him jerk, as texts from others go unnoticed, ignored – instead looking at the cute little heart you sent.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he whispers to nothing, his eyes squeezed shut, imagining if he did get to make you cum for the first time. God, imagine getting to have his mouth on you, to taste your cunt from the source, make you shake, tremble – fall apart on his tongue.
His grip tightens, his hips thrusting up into his slick palm, he’s embarrassingly close in a few strokes – whatever the fuck you’re doing to him, cum pulsing in white ropes, spilling down his palm, wondering if you’re touching yourself. You probably would need him to show you how, just that thought makes his cock twitch, has him whimpering as he lays his head back.
Fuck.
He wishes Sukuna’s threats would be some sort of deterrent, but as he’s looking you up like a batshit crazy psycho, not sleeping when he has practice in the morning, he knows he really doesn’t fucking care. When he’s jerking it again to your pretty little professional ice skater photos… Well, Satoru Gojo might just be obsessed with Sukuna’s niece.
He may be a walking – or jerking – dead man.
****
part two will be in a couple weeks, where things will get very complicated hehe, I'm going to have so much fun! plz be respectful as this is a commission of the character/personality chosen in the comments <3
Patreon for more exclusive fics <3 comms closed for the moment!
Synopsis: Toji, the TA, won't bump up your latest essay a couple marks, not with just some begging at least, so you try a different method:
good ol' pussy persuasion
Warnings: toji art by @/youKa.i on insta, smut, porn with a lil plot, nerd!toji, a couple years older than reader but both students, reader harasses him but don't save him he's right where he wants to be, some comedy aspect, college au, non curse au, f!reader, blowjob under the desk, unethical behaviour, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v, briefest choking, sex against the window, pússy inspection, belly bulging, overstimulation, spitting, a little fisting I guess or almost, Toji's poor so this is canon compliant jkjk, creampie and unprotected sex, brief pussyjob, size kink/difference, hidden sex, not proofread
Word Count: 10.7k
“For the last time,” he drawls, “I’m not bumping you up a grade.”
You groan, pushing your legs to catch up to him faster.
“Come on, I need this. I’m not asking you to break the rules. All I want is for you to reread my essay and find extra marks, which you will!”
Toji Fushiguro is a tough nut to crack, though he doesn’t look it — one glance at him and one would think he’s a laidback TA. He’s the exact opposite; he takes his job a little too seriously.
For days now, you’d been hounding him, pleading with him and degrading yourself all for him to ‘remark’ your last paper and ‘coincidentally’ find a few extra marks that would push you to the top performing spot you’d been eyeing since forever. Each time you rushed into his office, waited for him after his classes, and followed him to his apartment, he’d shrugged you off with the same ‘I don’t get paid enough for this’ look in his eyes.
Rounding the corner, his long legs making no accommodations for your shorter ones, he says, “No. If you wanted better results, you should have put in a better performance. Surely you’re smart enough to work out that that’s how life works.”
Hands grab his arm, yanking back with all your strength only to be dragged along with him and his burly body. Your heels scrape along the floor. People stare. You don’t care. “Don’t be an asshole. You know my essay was good. It was really good. Just give it a read. A proper one, and not the rushed job you do because you’re overworked and underpaid.”
He stops.
Your face bumps into this back, forehead nearly bruised by the hardness.
His brows rise above his glasses as he fixes you a look. “Kid, your essay was good — decent introduction, clear structure, sufficient evidence — but it’s not good enough for the extra marks to push you into the top band. Your closing argument fell flat ‘cause of your wishy-washy writing style, you didn’t adequately humour the counter arguments and undermine them to strengthen your thesis, and, worst of all, you misspelt ‘complement.’”
A frown graces your features.
“No, I didn’t. C. O. M. P. L. I. M—”
“No. With an I, it’s to flatter someone. With an E, it’s to enhance, pair well, or complete another thing.” Toji explains rather robotically, eyes still dead and voice monotone. “For example, if I said you’re a pretty girl, that’s a compliment. And if I said, your essay goes well with the trashcan over there, that’s a statement that suggests the two complement each other. See the difference?”
He’s already stalking off again, hands in his pockets, huge stature unwilling to accommodate the people walking down the hallway.
You break into a jog, panting embarrassingly by the time you reach him. “Dude, we’ve known each other for three years. We’ve gone through a lot together. We’re basically friends. Can’t you do your best pal a solid?”
Toji glances down at you. He pushes a door open, holding it a second longer than he needed to. You follow behind him. Somewhat amused, he replies, “We know each other because we’re on the same course, not by choice. And I don’t know what you mean by the whole ‘we’ve gone through a lot together’ thing — the most dramatic thing we’ve faced is when the projector didn’t work and we had to go into a different hall. And we’re definitely not friends.”
Well, fuck, you’re running out of rope.
“Then, let’s officially be friends,” you offer, elbowing him gently. “If you ever need help, buddy, I’ll always have your back.” Then, in an act of complete desperation, you begin shakily singing, “You’ve got a friend in me. You’ve got a friend in me. When the road looks tough ahead—”
A heavy hand shoves you away by your head. You stumble into a bulletin board.
“Enough,” he gruffs. “My day’s already fucked because the prof lost his papers and wants to blame me. I don’t need to lose my hearing on top of that.”
Your head flits around. “Did you guys see that?” People give you weird looks. “He just shoved me. The TA just shoved me. We need to protest his violent behaviour by demanding he remarks our papers. Who’s with me?”
Everyone walks past without another look at you.
Toji, on the other hand, lifts his glasses and runs a hand down his face. Muttering something under his breath, he pushes a door open and holds out a hand before you can mindlessly follow. “It’s the men’s bathroom. Tell me you’re not shameless and stupid enough to come in here.”
“I’ll wait outside.”
His eye twitches.
As though an idea comes to him, he straightens ever so slightly. “I’m gonna take a dump; you’ll be waiting a while.”
“That’s okay — I have no more classes so take your time but make sure you don’t stay sitting down longer than you need to,” you tell him, smiling innocently and standing aside to let a guy walk out, ignoring the freaked out face he makes at you. “You can get hemorrhoids."
He groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, woman.”
That seems to be as much of you he can tolerate because he walks in without another word to you. Opposite the door, you lean against the wall, whistling and coming up with alternative lines you can pull on him.
God, he’s so stubborn.
It’s not like giving you the marks docks his pay or lowers the professor’s opinion of him. He’s clearly just being an ass.
If he wasn’t such a good TA, a genuinely intelligent man, you would have gone above his head and asked for the prof’s personal assessment. But no, he has to be knowledgeable, a helpful source of information when you’re lost, someone who seems to know everything about any topic, who knows the exact pages of a textbook you should read to further your understanding, and who’s never declined a meeting for clarification on something you wrote.
For years now, you two have had a friendship-like relationship, often sharing snacks and exchanging brief words before or after lectures and classes, despite what he says.
Everyone gets along with him, though you’ve never actually seen him hang out with friends or go to parties. Maybe he doesn’t have any. Word on the street is he works part time in a couple different places. Some say so he can afford drugs, some for tuition.
The rumours never interested you, apart from any that mused about his love life, which seems to be nonexistent except for the many girls who hit on him. Not that you’re especially interested.
It’s just fun to be in the know.
Who knows how long has passed since he went in there. Your phone says fifteen minutes. Is that a normal amount of time for someone to be taking a dump?
Hesitantly, you push the door open and yell out, “Fushiguro? You doing okay? Is it stuck? For a couple extra marks, I’ll give you a hand.”
No one replies.
Brows furrowing, you bend down, looking through the stalls. No feet. What the hell?
Ahead, a window is ajar. Big enough for a man to squeeze through. Well isn’t that convenient? The kind of convenient that exists only in fiction.
Aggrieved and feeling bamboozled, you stomp back to your dorm room, slamming the door, jumping face down on the bed and screaming into the pillows. You’d feel better if you knew he had a grudge on you, if you bumped into him the first day and spilled his coffee all over himself and he’d never forgotten it. Instead, he’s just like that: does things by the book, does his job well, and achieves the best grades with ease.
Naturally, he’d become the professor’s assistant, a coveted position that seemed like it was made for him from the very beginning, and made your life a living hell because he won’t ever make concessions for you.
Sure, you shouldn’t ask him to, but it’s not like you’re asking for much. You’re generally a high performing student — punctual, hard working, ambitious — but you had one bad day which resulted in one bad essay and it lowered your average and now the internship you’d been eyeing could be snatched from your hands in a blink of an eye.
“It’s just not fair,” you cry out to your teddy bear. “It’s three marks. Three! Would it kill him to reread my essay and find those three marks?”
Mr. Teddy stares back at you and says, “He’s a grumpy man. Don’t take it personally.”
You sit up, blinking and processing his reply.
“Teddy…you’re right. He is a grumpy man, a TA with broad shoulders, yummy arms, and thick thighs with a bubble butt, but a man nonetheless. If he won’t pull favours for me, student to student, maybe he’ll pull favours for me man to woman.”
The plushie falls to the bed as you stand, staring at yourself in the mirror and formulating a plan.
With that you decide to seek him out the next day, sporting a new outfit and a different attitude.
.
.
.
“Hi.”
“Fuck off.”
The cafeteria’s busy. It always is. It’s loud enough that most people wouldn’t even hear the exchange — chairs banging on tile, trays clattering, someone laughing too loudly at a table nearby.
Toji’s hunched slightly over a bowl of udon noodles, chopsticks moving lazily as he slurps them down. Some sports clip plays on his phone, propped against his dented metal water bottle. Commentators yell about something you don’t understand. His sleeves are pushed up over his forearms, revealing ropey muscle and the faint silvery line of an old scar running across his wrist.
An old hoodie hangs off his shoulders over a plain white T-shirt. Distressed jeans, worn sneakers. He’s too big for the plastic chair, long legs spread under the table. When he saw you approach, his feet had hooked onto the chair legs, forcing you to fight to remove it from his clutches so you could take a seat.
So damn rude.
His glasses have fogged slightly from the steam of the noodles.
He doesn’t look up. But he knows it’s you. You can tell by the way his mouth tightens for half a second before he goes back to eating.
You snatch his phone away. His green eyes flick up, annoyed. You smile, arms pushing your breasts together so they spill over your tight top. Toji’s gaze doesn’t waver. He continues to stare at you like you’re a pest.
“You can’t take no for an answer?” he asks though it’s not a question at all. “Might want to retake the consent course.”
Manicured fingers walk up his bare forearm before scratching down from his elbow. His skin is warm. Light dusting of hair tickling your fingertips. “Oh, Toj, have I ever told you how handsome you are? Because you really are. You’re so damn hot I can hardly focus on the lectures.”
He snorts, still eating his noodles and still refusing to look at your cleavage. “That’ll explain why you’re missing marks.”
Jaw dropping, you force yourself to recover quickly. A heeled foot brushes against his calf, sliding his jeans up. You bat your lashes, sultrily saying, “The only thing I’m missing is your cock in me, big boy.”
Toji meets your eyes again. His scarred lips twitch. “I don’t need to tell you that was bad, do I?”
You cringe, foot dropping and whole body slumping back into the chair. “Yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it.” Then you sit up, handing him his phone, and asks, “Are the noodles good? I’ve never had them.”
Phone pocketed, he shrugs. “They’re just the cheapest deal on the menu. Growing girl like you should get something more filling.”
The menu’s extensive, and the only thing sticking out to you is the chicken burger and chicken tenders meal deal. It seems to be especially popular today but you’re not sure you can finish the whole thing.
“Hey, if I get the Meal Super Cluck Blaster, will you share it with me? I’ve got dinner plans later so I don’t want to fill up.”
That finally gets a reaction. Toji leans back a little and gives you a slow once-over. Tight top. Lacy bra peeking up. Glossy lips. More jewellery than usual. His eyebrow lifts. “That why you’re dressed like a hooker?” he asks lazily. “Hot date?”
“Nah,” you reply, waving him off. “Wore this for yo— Wait.” You lean forward, staring at him wide eyed. “Are you jealous? Are you in love with me already? Because for extra marks, I’ll cancel my dinner plans and promise myself to you for all eternity.”
Toji rolls his eyes. “Go get something to eat; you sound insane.”
You hop up. “Okay, but stay there, alright? Take my burger because I only want the tenders. Oh, and will you share a pot of cheesecake with me? I’m lactose-intolerant but I really want cheesecake right now.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He’s still here when you come back.
As soon as you hand him the wrapped up burger, he scarfs it down the way big men do, like they haven’t eaten in days. You push him the tenders too. You’d actually gotten a double serving of everything so you have your own portion of tenders and he gets to eat another burger. There’s no way a man his size could survive on udon noodles.
“Also, let’s not act like you didn’t leave me hanging outside the men’s bathroom yesterday,” you bring up after sipping your juice. “Can’t believe you left through the bathroom window just so you could get away from me.”
“I didn’t,” he says, mouth full and adjusting his glasses.
You frown, dipping a piece of chicken in hot honey. “No, you definitely did. I peeked and there were no feet in any of the stalls. Unless you’re telling me you can grow invisible.”
“Just lifted my legs when I heard you come in, which I knew your crazy ass would do, so I could finally leave in peace. Didn’t think it’d take you fifteen minutes though.”
A laugh escapes you. “You were waiting me out? Does that sound like the mature thing to do? Jeez, you need to act your age.”
Toji’s eyes meet yours. Your smile falters for the briefest second. “I’m not that much older than you,” he reminds you. “Only by two years.”
“And yet you call me kid or kiddo,” you retort, clearing your throat. Have his eyes always been that green and deep? And is his voice usually that husky and masculine? Because you could have sworn guys your age don’t sound like that.
He shrugs again, second burger finished in a blink of an eye. “Never hurts to remind yourself.”
“Remind yourself what?”
The legs of his chair screech as he pushes it back. He stands, picking up his tray, and answers, “Forget about it. Enjoy your dinner plans. And I’m taking the cheesecake — no one wants a gassy date.”
“Wait,” you call out before he can turn away. “My marks?”
A pat on the head ruffles your hair.
“Still a no, kid.”
.
.
.
“What if I suck your dick?”
Toji lifts his glasses to rub at his eyes. “I’ve got a ton of papers to grade for another class; I don’t have time for you.”
The door shuts behind you. His office is bare, not a single decoration littering the place, not a plant nor a picture.
His office is exactly how you remember it — disappointingly, aggressively empty. The walls are a dull institutional beige that makes the overhead fluorescent light feel even harsher. No posters. No photos. Not even a sad little plant struggling for life in the corner.
Just a desk. A filing cabinet. Two chairs that look like they were stolen from a waiting room. It’s the kind of office someone occupies temporarily, like he expects to leave at any moment and doesn’t see the point in settling in.
Leaning against the desk anyway, your fingers drum lazily along the edge.
You’ve been here before: once to argue about a paper he’d shredded with red ink, once because you’d missed an exam and needed him to sign a form, and once because you’d sworn you heard him swearing loud enough to be heard halfway down the hallway.
You grip his shoulder, squeezing as you scan the fat stack of papers on his desk — the prof’s particular about handwritten essays. There’s so much to read through; you do not want to be him.
“God,” you mutter, flipping through a few pages of the stack. “There’s like fifty here.”
“Seventy-two,” Toji corrects without looking up. His handwriting is sharp and aggressive, red ink slashing through entire paragraphs like he’s committing academic murder. You wince in sympathy for whoever wrote the paper currently being dismantled.
“Good thing you can multitask, can’t you? I’ll suck your dick under the desk, you grade papers, and you bump me up a grade. Easy.”
He shrugs you off, hulking body hunched over and pen scratching on the papers, leaving harsh circles and comments like, ‘what the hell does this mean?’ and ‘you can’t just say perchance.’
Toji gruffs, “I’m serious. Take your jokes elsewhere.”
Nah, you think to yourself.
With a massive struggle against his weight, you yank his chair back, wheeling him a distance from the desk and clambering under before he can fill the space again. He makes some noise above you but you pay him no mind. Your hands rest on his meaty thighs through his sweatpants, marvelling at the density, at the strength you find in them.
“You’re fucking ridiculous.” His foot nudges your knee. “Get the fuck out. I’ll cropdust you if I have to.”
You call his bluff by clutching his clothed cock. He jolts, grunting. Laughing softly, you muse, “You say all that but you have a semi already — did my proposition get you hard, Toji?”
You’re rubbing his hard on, trying not to get flustered by how big he feels, and how fat the girth is. Of course he’s big. In hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been so surprised; he’s a big man so naturally the proportions will match up.
“Suck my dick, don’t suck my dick, it doesn’t matter,” he says, sighing and probably pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re not getting those marks.”
He thinks that’ll stave you off because he knows you’re whoring yourself out for a grade. What he doesn’t know is that your stupid little brain’s already forgotten about all of that the moment you felt his cock. Now all you can think about is how you’ll have to stretch your lips nice and wide to take him in, and even then, even when your throat is lax and loose, you won’t be able to take him to the base.
Toji grunts again, peering down at you. “You mouthing at my dick? Did’ya not hear what I said?”
Like you’ve been possessed, you press kisses to where his tip is, humming around it. “I heard, but your dick’s saying other things to me, and I know which I prefer to listen to.”
“My dick’s not marking your paper, so get the fuck up,” he growls.
“Don’t wanna.”
“You’re fucking killing me here.”
A heavy hand bundles your hair up, pulling but you fight against it, hooking your fingers under the waistband and releasing him from the constraints. His boxers have a hole, and yet you only find it endearing. Freeing his cock so it bounces up and smacks your cheek, it leaves a wet mark on your skin.
Tutting, he wipes away the wetness from your skin.
Oh fuck, he really is big.
With nothing between you and his dick, you can see him in all his glory in the partial shadow of under his desk — long, thick, flushed red, already shiny at the slit, veiny as hell, hairs at the base wild and unruly, with weighty balls to match. You’ve never seen anything better.
Tongue out, you lick him from base to tip, prodding at his frenulum.
“Quit it,” he commands through gritted teeth.
You moan wantonly, already addicted to the salt on his kin, to the texture of his veins, to the softness of his cockhead. “Toji, you’re so big. I don’t think this’ll fit inside me.”
The thing throbs, bobbing. A droplet oozes out and you quickly lick it up. The hand that was pulling your hair has grown slack, simply resting on the back of your head, keeping you from bumping the wood.
Voice hoarse, he mutters, “If anyone can make it fit, it’ll be your stubborn ass.”
Your eyes meet his from under the desk, mischief sparkling in them you’re sure. His cock throbs again. “I thought you had papers to mark, Fushiguro. Maybe you should get on that, no?”
A calloused thumb presses down on your lips, shushing you. It slides down, bringing your bottom lip down with it, before releasing it so it’ll bounce back in place. That same thumb holds your jaw open, hand guiding your mouth to his tip. You know what he wants. You also know that he knows that you both know that you won this time.
Wide as you can, you take as much of his length as possible. You don’t get much further than a third of the way, full beyond belief and overwhelmed by just how much of him there still is. Your nails dig into his thighs.
“If this is supposed to convince me to give you extra marks, then you’re failing real hard, doll,” he notes, gripping the base. “Can barely fit the head, can you?”
He’s acting like it’s your fault he’s so big.
Challenged, you loosen your throat to take him an inch deeper. You gag around the length. Toji curses under his breath. “Careful,” he mutters. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
You ignore him in favour of shallowly bobbing, sucking and licking what you can, as though he’s a lollipop. It’s actually kinda fun.
The familiar sound of pen scratching on paper and paper rubbing on paper echoes in the relatively quiet office. Only the wet sounds of your mouth sucking his cockhead pierces the silence.
Growing more and more used to his size, you flick your tongue around the head, letting your hands wrap around the rest of him, squeezing and tugging in time with your mouth. Occasionally, he makes a couple breathy noises — low grunts when your tongue laps up his tip, gravelly groans when you hollow your cheek to suck, and rough exhales through his nose when you grip his balls, massaging them, thumb rubbing the seam.
It becomes easier to forget why you were here in the first place; you’re just blowing him for your own entertainment now, wanting something to occupy your throat.
Then, he asks, as though he’s making casual conversation, “How was the date?”
“Hmm?”
Toji rolls his eyes. “The date,” he repeats. “How was it? He pay for the meal? Open doors, see you to your door, kiss you goodnight and shit?”
Your lips stretch into a smile. You release him with a pop! “I didn’t go on a date,” you tell him. “My friends hosted a housewarming party because they moved in together. I had a great time, thanks for asking.”
Is he pleased? Unaffected? Genuinely just making conversation? Hard to tell, except for the pushing of his hand, urging you back to his dick, and taking him further inside your throat, till his tip bumps the back of the gummy walls.
“Good,” he exhales out, thighs flexing around your body. “That’s real good.”
“My blowjob skills or that I had a great time?” you ask, words muffled and barely understandable.
“Both,” he answers. “Both, doll.”
A knock on the door has you both stiffening. Toji glares down at you and whispers, “It’s the prof. Do not make a sound.”
He didn’t need to tell you that — you’re well aware that if you get caught, you’ll both face disciplinary action, and will likely be kicked out of the university. That’s worse than not getting the internship.
The office falls quiet so suddenly you can hear the ticking of the wall clock. Toji’s hand tightens briefly against the desk as the knock comes again. “Come in,” he calls, voice steady.
The door opens before he even finishes the word.
“Ah, Fushiguro, there you are,” the professor says, stepping inside with a stack of papers tucked under one arm. “I wasn’t sure if you’d left already.”
From your position under the desk, you can only see shoes. Polished leather. Slow steps across the floor. You don’t slide his cock out of your throat, lest it makes a sloppy noise that’ll give you both away. So you breathe through your nose, being very, very quiet.
“No, I was just finishing up some grading,” Toji replies, cool as a cucumber.
His tone is annoyingly normal. Completely unbothered. He’s really convincing. Has he done this before? Is this a normal occurrence? Do a lot of girls offer to blow him for better marks, and does he take them up on it? Are you the one exception to his generosity?
“Good, good.” Papers shuffle. A chair creaks as the professor sits across from the desk. “I actually wanted to ask about the research methods essays.”
Of course he did.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
Toji shifts slightly above you — just enough that the movement brushes your shoulder — and then he leans back in his chair. “Yeah?” he says.
“I noticed something odd in the submissions this year,” the professor continues. “Half the class seems to misunderstand the section on sampling bias.”
He hums thoughtfully. “You mean where they’re supposed to explain the limitations of convenience sampling?”
“Exactly.”
A sheet of paper slides across the desk.
“You see this one here—”
From below, you hear Toji pick it up.
“—they describe the method correctly, but their conclusion contradicts their own analysis.”
There’s a pause whilst the TA reads. You stare at the underside of the desk and try not to shift your knees. God, this is like torture. Having a cock lodged in your throat and not being able to do anything with it is hell. Above the desk, they’re chatting away, talking about your fellow students, with the professor none the wiser that one such student’s under the desk.
“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “They’re treating correlation like it proves causation.”
“Precisely!” the professor says, sounding delighted. “It’s surprisingly common.” Another pause. You hear a pen tap the desk twice. “I was thinking next year we might restructure the lecture slightly,” the professor continues. “Maybe introduce a short case study before the assignment.”
“Could work,” Toji replies. “Give them something concrete, tangible, to analyse.”
Your legs are starting to cramp. Your lips tighten around his hot cock. Toji brushes your hair back from your face, a quiet act to show he hasn’t forgotten about you. The professor keeps talking, completely unaware.
“Also,” he says, shuffling more papers, “the literature review sections were stronger this year.”
“Mm.”
“I suspect the workshop helped.”
Toji lets out a quiet huff that might be agreement.
“You handled that well, by the way,” the professor adds. “The students seem to respond to your feedback.”
This is way too boring, you decide. In an act you might end up regretting for the rest of your life, your offended tongue prods his tip where he’s still leaking salty precum.
He grunts, knee crashing up on the wood.
The professor asks him if he’s alright, and Toji replies, “Fine. Sorry. Just had a cramp.”
A triumphant smile pulls at your lips, which is quickly wiped away by the sudden pinch at your cheek. You wince, unable to smack him in retaliation.
A sigh fills the room. “I fear you work too hard, Fushiguro. You ought to take a break here and there. Do something fun and wild, or whatever it is people your age do nowadays.”
“I am having fun,” Toji says, hand coming back to rest on your head, growing heavier and heavier until you’re forced to take him inside your mouth, deeper and deeper. “In my own way.”
He’s filling you up more than he was before, now more insistent, no longer so passive. You’re struggling to take him but he’s not letting up. Fuck, you’re soaked between the legs. Who knew you had an oral fixation?
“Well, good,” the professor says. He pushes his chair back. Your heart jumps in joy. “I won’t keep you any longer, I know those papers won’t mark themselves. Boy do I not envy you.” He laughs. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You too, Professor.”
Footsteps move toward the door. The handle turns. The door opens. Closes. Silence. Two seconds pass.
Then Toji peers down, licking his scarred lips, and mutters under his breath, “You needy fucking girl. Couldn’t wait, could you? Couldn’t resist not being a pain my fucking ass. If you want cock so badly, then here you go.”
His hips thrust up, hand keeping you in place. Your eyes fly open, throat stretching to take all of him in. Oh, he was as pent up, as frustrated, as you were. The force in which he’s rutting inside your throat displays that nice and clear.
“You’ll do anything for a good grade, won’t you? Even debase yourself like this. God, you drive me crazy.”
You gag around his cock but he doesn’t pay any mind to that. No, Toji’s just rutting inside your mouth over and over again, grunting louder and louder now.
Meanwhile, your hand seeks out the heat between your legs. You grind against the heel of your palm, moaning around his length. The vibration has his balls tightening up.
“Fuck!”
Hot cum bursts inside, coating the walls of your throat and your tongue.
Toji leans back in his chair, which creaks. You pull him out, coughing at the salty burn. Damn, even his loads are big. It’s like a cream puff exploded inside your mouth.
Hands carry you up, sitting you on his thigh. One rubs your back in circles, the other wipes away the tears at your eyes, licking at the wetness he’s collected on his thumb. “You good, kid?” he asks, brows furrowed.
“Yeah,” you respond, voice hoarse and not fooling anyone. “I’m good.”
You take a sip of his water from his water bottle, not caring about the fact that you’re drinking from where he had been, and if he cared that your mouth which had been sucking on his dick and cum is on his cup, he didn’t say.
He sighs, tucking himself back in and says, “Come by my place tonight. Hand me your essay again and I’ll reread it. But I’m not making any promises about finding extra marks, alright? It’s just a second chance, and the only one you’ll get.”
Dopily, you smile at him. “Throat game that good, huh?”
His lips twitch. He shoves you away, smacking your ass as you walk away.
“I’ll text you the time and place. Don’t be late.”
Nodding, you head for the door, not leaving however till you ask, “Should I wear matching underwear, or is this a strictly keep your clothes on meeting?”
“Fuck off before I regret it.”
“Lacy thong it is!”
.
.
.
“Should I spread my legs now or do you want me to fluff you first?”
Toji’s deadpan face meets you when he opens the door. He sighs as though he’s regretting this already. Regardless, he lets you in.
You can tell he showered recently — there’s the scent of cheap soap lingering on his skin and his hair is still a little damp.
His apartment is nice and clean, which surprises you somewhat. Most guys your age tend to be messy. But you should have known the TA would be neat and organised.
“I’m serious,” you begin, snuggling up to his side and batting your lashes up at him, “what position do you want me? I’m not the most flexible but I’m not too bad.”
Shaking you off, he pushes you in the direction of the living room where the coffee table is covered with carefully laid out papers he no doubt carried from campus to continue working on. “Go sit down, you horny gremlin. Make some room for your essay and let’s get this over with.”
You do as he says, folding your legs so you can sit by the coffee table on the rug. You take the essay out of your bag, shoving all the others to the side. With a frown, you ask, “So we’re really not fucking?”
He folds himself down too, sitting beside you, knee brushing yours. “I don’t solicit sex in exchange for academic favours. Dunno why you’re so surprised by that — can’t recall having done anything to make you think otherwise.”
“Well, you did give in after I blew you, so…”
“I was gonna offer before you did all that,” he informs you, snorting. “Just never promised to give you the marks.”
Toji adjusts his glasses, taking your papers and starting his reassessment of it. His lips purses, brows furrows, and he stares at the thing like it could tell him the answers to the universe. That or it’s so bad he just can’t fathom what you were thinking.
“Second paragraph, third line, why the hell is it so convoluted?” he asks, voice returning to that grumpy tone you’re more than familiar with now.
It’s the latter, it would seem. He really meant business. You shaved and everything for nothing. What a shame.
Leaning over, you rest your head on his big bicep, and, with a pout, reply, “I thought it sounded smart; I was pretty proud of that line actually.”
“No, doll,” Toji says, sighing. “The simpler the better. Don’t purposefully complicate your syntax. Only do what’s necessary to get the point across. If I, an expert in this topic, can barely understand what you mean, how is the ordinary person supposed to?”
“Yeah, okay. Simple is better, I get it.”
He continues reading, red pen in hand and making annotations as he goes. Meanwhile, you’re worming your way into his lap: one hand resting on his thigh at first, then a leg thrown over his. He notices what you’re doing — there’s no way he doesn’t know — but he doesn’t put up a fight. Eventually, you’re sitting in his lap, his chin resting on your head, and his arms caging you in.
Toji’s warm. He’s comfy to rest on despite all the muscles. Closer now, his soapy scent envelops you. It goes straight to your head. You find yourself squirming.
“Keep still,” he reprimands, underlining a phrase twice for emphasis. “You can’t just use jargon if you’re not going to explain it. It’s bad practice.”
“Got it.” Fiddling with his spare hand, running your fingers down his and over his palm, you ask, “Are academics supposed to have calluses?”
“They bother you or something?”
“No, not at all. I’m just curious.”
He hums. “I do odd jobs here and there, some more manual than others so yeah I built up some calluses.” Without missing a beat, he pivots the topic. “Tell me again what the difference is between compliment and complement.”
You bring that hand up to your breast, imploring him to grope your tits as you reply, “With an I is to praise someone or something, and with an e is to say something matches well with another.”
A moan escapes your lips when he squeezes in approval. Toji mutters, “Good girl. Guess you do listen to me.” Thumb brushing your hardened nipple through the thin material of your top, you squirm in his lap. His lips move against the top of your head. “No bra?”
“I figured you were going to take it off me anyway so I didn’t bother,” you say, still pressing his hand to your tit, riding the motions of every grope and flick of your nipple.
Another hum.
Slowly, you guide that hand down lower. He must know what you’re doing, where you want it to end up, but he doesn’t stop you, doesn’t reprimand or put up any resistance; he’s curious to see how far you’re willing to go. And you’re curious to see how much restraint he has, how long he can hold out before his façade of nonchalance breaks and he’s fucking up inside you.
You tease yourself, and him, first — his fingers, with your guidance, tease your bare thighs, following the hem of your tight skirt. Growing breathless, you ask, “What kind of odd jobs do you do?”
Toji’s calluses tickle the sensitive skin in your inner thighs just right. He’s still marking your paper, occasionally fact-checking your ideas and his theories in a textbook on the table. Amused, he retorts, “You curious about me, doll?”
“Hmm, I want to know exactly whose cock will be stretching me out in a minute.”
He snorts, patting your clothed pussy. You jolt with every impact. “I tutor on the side. Fix up some cars in the garage in town. I’m a physical trainer for three clients at the local gym too. And when I’m low on money, I sell risqué pictures of myself. That disgust you?”
All while he answers, Toji’s blunt nails scrape your slit through your panties. He’s not applying much pressure at all, if any, and yet every skim, every travel up and down has goosebumps rising on your skin.
“N-no,” you answer quickly. “I think that’s really cool. If I had a body like yours, I’d take pictures all the time too.”
His laughter rumbles in his chest. An odd sense of pride warms your own. He says, “Your body’s more than good enough to sell too, you know. Don’t act like you don’t know guys give you double takes all the time, or that your ass could stop traffic.”
Giggling, you lean back, gazing up at him with a smile. “Do you stare at my ass sometimes, Toji?”
God, you’re soaked. You can tell, though you’re not embarrassed whatsoever. If anything, you’re just itching for him to pull your panties to the side and touch you skin to skin, to plunge inside your pussy and make a mess out of you.
“Tell me where you can, and should, insert a semi-colon in paragraph six, and I’ll give you an honest answer.”
He nudges you with his chin. “Go on. Quit thinking with your pussy and give me the right answer.” A little aggrieved, you sit up straight, holding his wrist to keep his hand between your legs. Your eyes scan the section. Tentatively, you point to a full stop on the second line. Toji shakes his head and smacks your clothed pussy again. “Try again, and don’t guess.”
“Here,” you snarl, feeling way past pent up. “Now give me my reward.”
Toji huffs. “Semi-colons help for varying sentence structures. It’s in the little ways you can convey your points compellingly. Don’t underutilise the right punctuations.”
“Yeah, yeah, smarty pants. Rub my clit and answer my question already.”
Cool air brushes against your swollen, glistening lips. You sigh when his warm hand covers the entire slit barely a second later. His middle fingers are instantly coated in your wetness. He groans. “Fuck, doll, you’re dripping.” Toji doesn’t give you a moment to respond to that; his fingers rub at your throbbing clit in tight circles, drawing it out of his hood. You moan, back arching.
Finally, he answers, “I stare at your ass all the fucking time after I glare at the losers whose eyes wander from their laptop screens . I’m a big, fucking hypocrite — that what you wanna hear?”
“Fuck yes!”
Rustling of paper reaches your ears. Then two hands are on you: one furiously rubbing the bundle of nerves and the other gripping your throat. He squeezes threateningly. Your vision spots, jaw dropping. “Look at you, all desperate to have my cock inside you. And for what? For a couple marks? You’re not ashamed?”
Your ass is grinding back on his boner, sandwiching the hard thing between your cheeks as your own answer. How could you be ashamed when he wants you so bad too?
“I’m horny! Are you gonna fuck me or not?”
In a split second, you find your world spinning. Your back falls on something hard. You’re staring up at the ceiling, papers scattered beneath you. Rough hands tug you down by your thighs. When you peer down, Toji’s staring up at you from between your lips.
“Yeah, I’m fucking you. You already knew I was gonna. You gonna let me taste your pussy first?” A challenging brow quirks up, like he’s waiting for you to push him away.
Instead, your legs hook over his shoulders, ankles crossed. You grin at him.
Panties pulled to the side, his fingers spread your pussy for him. Those eyes scan every inch. He releases a shaky breath, cheeks flushed and Adam’s apple bobbing. “Even your pussy’s pretty. Fucking gorgeous.” Running a hand through his hair, he says, “You’re always such a pain, aren’t you?”
“I can’t help that every part of me’s pretty,” you reply, twirling your hair.
“Shut up and play with your tits — I like a show with my dinner.” Toji spits a fat dollop right on your clit. It slides down your slit but before it can disappear in the crevice of your ass, his tongue is collecting it and shoving it inside your cunt.
You gasp. “Fuck, Toji!”
In spite of his aggressive tone, you pull down your top, letting your tits bounce out. Those eyes follow every jiggle. “Good girl,” he rasps. “Squeeze them for me nice and hard. Good. Real fucking good.”
His glasses are foggy now with your own humidity, rattling with every movement. He’s eating your pussy out like he’s starved, like he’s never tasted anything better, like he’s going to make sure not a single trace of you can be found in his apartment after he’s done with you.
Growling, he spread your thighs wider. “Course you’ve got a sweet pussy,” he says, brows furrowing in what appears to be anger. “Course it’s sweeter than that fucking cheesecake. Course I’ll be craving you till I die.”
Fingers tangle in his hair, tugging for purchase. “Ngh, Toji, my clit…suck my clit!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Those scarred lips, the very ones you’ve stared at more times than you can count, wrap around your clit, sucking hard the way you did when you were blowing him under the desk. Electricity sparks inside, sending tremors up from your lower belly to your tits to the very tips of your fingers. “Oh fuck, that’s so good.”
Filthy squelches are being wrung out of you, and you know he’s doing it on purpose, addicted to how responsive your body is to him.
Two fingers worm their way through your pulsing hole, basking in the rough textures of your entrance, stretching your gummy walls on their way to curling against that spot that has you oozing more cum out.
“You’re fucking tight,” he hisses. “You’re gonna struggle taking all of me later.” Then he barks a laugh, spare hand pressing down on your belly where the pressure builds up. Your toes curl. “A better man would take pity on you, go slow or wait another day, but I’ve already had my tongue inside your cunt so I’ll spare you the gentleman act.”
More fingers shove in, ignoring the screech that you let out. You’ve never had more than two and yet all four of his thicker, longer fingers are inside pushing your walls to their very limits.
Despite that, he remarks, entertained by the shock on your face which he studies through his glasses, “Suck it up, buttercup — my cock’s thicker than this, you know that.”
You do.
It’s all you’ve been thinking about all day. Hours after, your jaw’s still stretched out, sore and creaking after the workout you put it through. The thought of having something even thicker, longer than his four fingers has you growing dizzy, head handing over the coffee table.
“Yeah, my cock can’t wait to feel you too,” Toji says, not to you but to your pussy which is squelching lewdly and loudly. “Had to resist jerking my dick raw all day so you better make it good for me.”
Is it seconds later, or minutes, maybe hours, when you cum?
How ever long it is no one can deny it’s the strongest orgasm of your life.
Your entire body trembles, spasming beyond control. Are you screaming or silently moaning? Are your eyes shut or have you gone blind? And is he still pistoning his fingers inside you, damn near pushing all of his hand in?
“Stop,” you cry out. “No more, please!”
Mercifully, he yanks his hand out. Unfortunately, it leaves you feeling so empty you immediately crave the feeling of his hand gripping you from inside.
Lips and chin glistening, he kisses both inner thighs, which tremble.
Toji gathers you with one arm, showing off his strength as he carries you off the table and to the glass door which leads out to the balcony. It’s dark out and all you can see are the lights of people’s rooms in the apartment across. There are families lounging, dogs sleeping, TV’s blaring.
Behind you, you hear the rustling of his shirt as he throws it off carelessly. Bare skin grazes your own soon after his hands make quick work of the clothes you’re still wearing. In a flash, you’re naked. He bends down to pick up your fallen panties, inhaling the gusset deeply. Your legs cross tightly at the deeply satisfied groan he lets out.
“Next office hour,” he starts, lazily spreading your pussy lips and smearing your juices around so he can listen to the squelches and keep your squirming, “you better leave your panties with me. Consider it payment.”
You laugh. “Sure.”
Groggily, you try to keep your head up, wondering what you’re doing by the window, still a little out of it. A hand clutches your jaw, aiding you.
“I’m gonna fuck you against this window,” he announces, leaving no room for arguments. “You want those extra marks? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take my cock like a champ.”
Ass gyrating back against the hot, heavy thing still confined in sweatpants, you wonder, “Do you have an exhibitionism kink?”
He lets go of you. You have to catch yourself by pressing your palms to the cold glass. Toji drags your hips back, foot kicking your legs apart. His cock plops onto your ass, scalding. “No, I have a ‘get my time’s worth from shameless women who waste my time with demands for better grades by humiliating them’ kink.”
“Sounds long. We should get that shortened,” you drawl.
His cockhead slides through your pussy, coating itself in your wetness. The fat thing bumps against your clit. You shudder.
Satisfied with your natural lubrication, he prods your entrance. “Yeah, we should. Let’s call it, Shut The Fuck Up And Take It.”
Then he enters you in one go.
You scream.
The window fogs up with your breath. Your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You’re taking so much of his length so quickly that it should be painful. Despite that, there’s not an ounce of pain, not one you didn’t like at least — only the overwhelming pleasure of being filled up is resonating.
Toji grunts. “Almost had to fist this cunt and you’re -hah fuck- still too tight.”
Pummelling his cock in, his hips don’t pause for a second. You gasp for breath, palms slipping and sliding on the condensation that’s built up on the glass. It’s like you can feel him in your lungs, so impossibly deep, so hot, so intimidating.
“God, it should be a crime to have a body like this,” he says, hands groping every part of your flesh he can reach. He slaps your ass to watch it jiggle for him. He’s an ass man, that much is clear.
The force of his thrusting has you pushed closer to the glass, so close now that almost your entire front is flush with the surface. The coldness grazes your nipples. You moan.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
He tugs you back to him, body sliding down the glass till your ass is jutted out. Toji carries your hips up so you can reach him, but it means your toes are only brushing the floor. You cling to the glass door as much as you can. Through the glossy haze, you see the marks you left on the glass, from the oils and sweat on your skin. You see the outline of your tits, all round and fat, the handprints you left and the smearing of them all over the place because you couldn’t grapple with one position to have them in.
Are people watching? Are you flashing a poor old man, are you reigniting a sexual appetite in a pitiful divorcee, making a housewife jealous, creating fantasies for some guy your age? Are people rubbing one out to the flashes of ecstasy on your face, to the swaying of your tits, to the rippling of your ass?
Toji’s fingers creep under you, furiously teasing your clit. You whine. “I think I’m gonna cum again.”
“Go on, gorgeous,” he rasps. “Lemme feel you cum around my cock. Make my dreams come true.”
Two fingers gather the cream that’s formed a ring at his base. He draws three letters on the glass for you to stare at. It spells out c u m.
God, he’s dirty.
Another orgasm ripples through you. Your thighs shake. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Toji!”
He growls out, hands tightening their grip on your hips, threatening to bruise, “Shit, you’re gonna make me cum early.”
Without waiting for you to come down from your high, he flips you around. Your back thuds against the door. His cock reenters you in a clean, easy slide, cunt beyond soaked and stretched out. Your arms and legs wrap around him.
Those glasses of him have fogged up so thickly now that they fail to serve their purpose. Toji takes it off with one hand, sliding it onto your head, like a headband keeping your face clear of your hair. “Don’t let them fall,” he orders. “They break and you won’t be getting that internship.”
And his lips?
They smack against yours.
He kisses you, all tongue and teeth and drool dripping down chins, like he’s been waiting weeks, months, perhaps years to do that. And you kiss him back just the same.
Inside you, his cock throbs. Toji’s hips swing back and forth, pelvis grinding on yours, rubbing your clit and wringing our more obscene squeeeelches.
“Oh god, I’m so full, Toji. You’re so fucking big.”
“You’re -hngh- t-taking me so well,” he praises, littering sloppy kisses all over your face and neck all while he pinches and rolls your nipples. “Moaning so adorably, all pretty and finally keeping this mouth quiet of smartass comments. You should be like this all the time.”
The rocking of his cock inside you is even better like this. The closeness, the warmth, the taste of him — you wonder why you waited so long to do this.
Tits squashed to his chest, your nipples scrape his skin, slipping and sliding with the sweat beading down your bodies. The hard planes of his chest feel magnificent. Nothing about his muscles are for vanity only, and the knowledge of the strength he’s holding back has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“You’d miss my smartass comments,” you tell him, head thrown back and hips working their way down on his cock of their own volition.
Toji groans against your neck, licking droplets of sweat. “Yeah, maybe. I definitely wouldn’t miss your spelling errors though.”
Smiling, you tug his head up by his hair, and bite his bottom lip. You pull and let go so it’ll snap back into place like he’d done with your lip when you were under his desk. “Maybe if you taught me like this, I wouldn’t -hah- make so m-many mistakes— deeper, Toji! Fuck me deeper.”
His hips plough deeper inside, like you wanted, hitting that spot inside you till you’re sure it’ll be bruised in the morning. Moans after moans are fucked out of you; his neighbours will give him an earful tomorrow, you’re certain.
“Book more office hours just to see me and not because you want something from me, then we can see if I can fuck your stupidity out of you,” he retorts.
You peck his lips. “Aw, does poor, needy Toji want me to give him more attention? Does he miss me when I’m not there? What a cute little baby.”
“Yeah, he does, actually,” he says, smirking. “That a problem?”
“It will be if you don’t make me cum.”
Toji reminds you, “You’ve been cumming around my cock this entire time; you still want more? Greedy girl.”
He pulls away from the window, stalking over to the sofa instead. Each step burrows him deeper inside you, kissing your cervix and pushing out gasps from your lips, all of which he swallows.
Carelessly, he throws you on the sofa. You bounce with an oomph!
Ankles held by one hand, he keeps your legs upright, hips lifted up to meet his. Toji presses a kiss to your ankle bone before he pushes his cock back inside. Your back arches with a mewl. Like this, his huge body becomes even more glaring — he’s casting a shadow over you, completely dwarfing you, reminding you how easily he could break you, how he could take whatever he wants from you.
Every time he buries himself to the hilt, a bulge pops through your tummy, right under your belly button.
“Look at that,” he mutters, brushing a thumb over it. You whine. “Feel me deep inside you? You’ll be feeling me inside for days, won’t you? Once it starts to fade, you can always come back for another fill, you know.”
“Promise?” you ask, grinning ear to ear.
Toji pulls out, leaving just his tip before he slams back in, jostling you down on the sofa. His abs contract, cock throbbing at the sudden clenching of your walls around him. “Fuck, yes, doll. Promise. I fucking promise.”
His glasses have slid off, rattling somewhere on the sofa with the impact of every thrust. He doesn’t seem to care about them anymore. You’re nearing another orgasm, head whipping around at the intensity of the pressure building in your core. He’s bullying his cock relentlessly in your cunt, chasing after his own high and sending you to yours.
When your eyes clash with his piercing, green ones, unobstructed by his glasses, you explode with a scream.
“F-fuck,” he grunts, following soon after.
Searing cum spurts inside you, cock pulsing, cum painting your walls. His thumb rubs your clit, aiding you through your orgasm. Your moans are vibrating against the walls, definitely disturbing his neighbours, but so are his groans.
He slumps over, rolling the two of you on the sofa so you’re resting naked on his heated body, his heavy arm preventing you from falling off. Your pussy’s sore, a mix of your cum and his dribbling out and creating a sticky mess on your inner thighs.
Absentmindedly, as you both catch your breath, he rubs your back. You draw shapes and letters on his chest. Toji combs his hair off of his forehead, chest rising up and down with his breathing. The dirty marks you two left are still on the glass, though it’s no longer foggy.
Reaching up above him, he gracefully finds his glasses, sliding them on his face. You like him with and without them.
“So,” you begin, “about those extra marks.”
Toji lifts his glasses up to rub a hand down his face. “Jesus, yes, you’ll get the marks.”
“Thanks!” you chirp.
“God, you’re a pain in the ass.”
.
.
.
“Fuck, Toji,” you moan. “I already came three times. It’s too -hic- too much.”
Your TA ruts his cock inside you, face buried in the crook of your neck. His glasses are on your nose bridge, blurring your vision; he gets so frustrated when the thing gets in the way of kissing you or eating you out.
“Shut up,” he rasps, hand pressing down on your lower belly so you can feel him even more. “You’re the one who dragged me here. Take every orgasm I give you and be grateful.”
That’s true — you were supposed to have an office hour with him, which is really an excuse to see your boyfriend before you have to attend the internship induction session, but then you took one look at him and his amazing body and started soaking through your panties so here you two are.
Oh yes, you did say boyfriend.
After he blew your mind out, you’d been visiting his apartment after classes so often, you were practically living there, and he didn’t mind. It started out casual, but after realising you two would go grocery shopping, watch movies together, and text each other practically every day, you decided to just seal the deal and make it official.
In short, he fucks good, and he can tolerate your personality, so you two stuck together.
A month in, neither of you are really regretting it. At least, if his desperate thrusting and sloppy kisses to your neck’s anything to go by.
“Missed you so much, Toji,” you whine, hips fucking back into him.
Toji groans, hand groping your tit from under your shit. “Yeah, baby?”
“Mmm.”
“Missed you too,” he confesses, licking a stripe up your neck and scraping his teeth down. Goosebumps rise on your arms. “Been wanting to see you all morning.”
You giggle, holding onto the stall for purchase and so his thrusting won’t make you smack face first onto the door. “You’re so cute w-when you’re needy.”
“Fuck off,” he says with no real heat to his words.
In the near distance, the door to the men’s toilets opens with a dull metallic creak, the sound echoing faintly off the tiled walls. Feet pad in—slow, unhurried. The steady rhythm of someone who expects the place to be empty.
“Fushiguro?” a voice calls out. “You in here?”
The two of you go very, very still. Toji’s entire body stiffens behind you, muscles locking. His hand clamps firmly over your mouth for extra measure, warm palm pressing tight enough that you can feel the tension in his fingers.
Your heart slams against your ribs, loud enough that you’re half convinced it might echo under the stall. What the hell is the professor doing here?
“Susan told me she saw you walk in this direction. You got a minute?”
Toji releases a tense breath through his nose, annoyed at the interruption but left with no choice but to answer. He lifts you up so your feet hang over the floor and won’t be seen by the outsider. “Yeah, prof. But I’m kinda in the middle of something.”
The professor laughs. “Yes, yes, I’m sure. I do apologise for interrupting you. I was just locked out of my account and can’t send emails for the next hour. You know how terrible I am with technology.” He enters the stall next door. He unzips his pants. You cringe. “I only wanted to ask if you’re prepared to host the internship induction later.”
You go still, this time for a different reason.
Your boyfriend releases your mouth. Fingers creep over to between your legs, where you’re still connected to him, where he’s still throbbing inside you. He slowly rubs your clit, keeping you from squirming in complaint with his strong arms. Toji responds, “Yeah, got all my notes ready.”
The bastard’s trying to distract you…
“Ah good, good,” the older man joyfully responds. His stream hits the water, and you fight the urge to face palm. “I had a look over the plans and the schedule. Very well organised, I must say. The competition was fierce, which is a testament to the success of the event, so props to you.”
Do men hold conversation so casually in the toilets?
Toji carefully begins moving in slow and shallow thrusts, prodding your g-spot over and over with his fat cockhead. You bite your lips to keep from moaning. Your nails dig into his thick arm. He ignores you.
“Don’t mention it, Professor.”
The man zips himself back up and flushes, exiting the stall. Outside, the tap runs, and you’re both still as quiet as rocks, afraid that any sudden movement will out you both as sexual deviants.
He adds, “Oh, and thank you for handling the applications for me; you know I hate all that paperwork nonsense.”
Your jaw drops.
Beyond tense, Toji replies like he’s aware of the weight every word exchange carries, “I do what I can do to help out.”
“I couldn’t do what I do without you,” the professor continues, sincere and ignorant to the fact that you’re there. The rustling of paper towels echoes. “Well, I’ll see you later. Apologies again for interrupting.”
The exit door swings open and you relax, but then his voice fills the space again.
“Do say hello to your pretty, little girlfriend for me.”
Your heart?
Drops to the fucking floor.
Toji’s grip on you tightens just slightly, barely noticeable unless you’re pressed this close to him.
Your mind races. Did he see you come in? Did someone tell him? Did Susan, whoever the hell she is—
Toji speaks before you can spiral further, his tone sharper now, suspicion threading through it. “What do you mean, Professor?”
“Oh, you know, the girl you’ve been eyeing for a while now — she’s on the internship, yes?” Then he laughs the kind of laughter old men do, all paternal and wise. “Don’t worry, son, I’m not accusing you of pulling strings; I know she’s a very intelligent young woman. Ambitious too. Almost as ambitious as you. I hope you two work something out.”
Your heart slows its beating but you’re not any less tense.
Sighing, Toji responds, “I’ll let you know if we do.”
“Yes, yes,” the professor says before he leaves for good.
Finally, it’s just you two in the men’s toilets again. The silence and emptiness is maddeningly relieving. Although, you’re seething, practically vibrating with accusations and anger.
Toji lets you down. Your feet touch the ground again. You pull him out, whirling on him with a disbelieving glare. You snatch his glasses off your face with one hand and smack his chest with the other. The man doesn’t budge.
“You sneaky piece of shit!”
He gathers both of your wrists with one hand, rolling his eyes. Toji takes his glasses from you and slides it on his face. Seeing you clearer now, he guides his cock back to your pussy, re-entering with ease. You moan, allowing him to hike your leg over his hip so he can press in deeper.
Kissing your lips, he mutters against your lips, “I did what I had to to get your attention. Sue me.”
“God, you’re the worst,” you breathe out, chest jutting out to his, nipples aching and clit throbbing.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, “I’m the big, bad wolf, and you’re creaming all over my dick right now. Let’s not act like you got the short end of the stick here.”
“Master manipulator,” you hiss, kissing him back, fingers tangling in his hair as soon he lets go of your wrists to grope your tit and ass.
“Whore,” he fires back.
Then the two of you smile, clutching each other tightly as you both rock into each other, nearing your mutual orgasm and riding the pleasure growing in your bodies. Fuck, he feels so good.
“We’re gonna be together forever and ever, aren’t we?” you ask.
Sukuna and Choso are your roomies and they do not understand the word privacy! constantly just walking in while you're taking a shower, taking over your bed - If they're gonna be that way, you could at least get backshots, but no! They'd rather play Mario Kart and manspread with you on the couch. Sukuna keeps throwing you off rainbow road, (rude!) which leads to your own revenge - cucking him.
pairings - choso x reader x sukuna
warnings- fingering, lots of titty worship, nipple sucking, edging, making Choso whimper, cucking tf outta Kuna in a pink chair lol, petty reader (I luv her) yandere tendencies (both boys) p in v sex, creampie, cum swallowing, ragebaiting kuna -4k
this was a commission for my baby @martianzmars ahhh this is like our fourth one!? I luv u sm!!!
art is from @/679sora on IG
Sukuna and Choso are by far the most annoying roommates a girl could have – constantly in your space, always eating all your favorite snacks, not allowing you any privacy. Shower? They’re standing in the damn bathroom talking to you, thinking you can masturbate in peace? No, they wanna come hang out in your room all the time!
Not just in the apartment either – no, they don’t even let you go anywhere without them, the couple times they have they’ve come to the parties and made sure they were on either side of you, fending off any of the men. Aside from work and classes they’re not in, the two men tag along anywhere – up to and including getting manicures.
It was pretty cute to see them get their nails painted black, and how ticklish they get when they’re getting pedicures – but to have no alone time? To have no girls nights out, no they go to those too, heaven help if a guy maybe tries to talk to you, the two of them make sure anyone who is brave enough to approach is sent off running.
You love having them around, even when the two giant men just take over your entire bed, big ass arms all heavy and weighing you down when you wake up. Maybe you wouldn’t mind that if either of them used their cocks that were pressing on either side of you, but no they just snuggle you closer, leaving you soaking wet and aching, unable to use any of your toys in peace.
Menaces, they’re menaces.
Choso is an adorable menace, a sweetheart – but menace nonetheless. Sukuna was more outspoken with how insane he was, he lived to fuck with you, once he thought it would be funny to hide your dildo collection you’re so proud of. You didn’t talk to him for a week after that, until he groveled and bought you a brand new one for your addition.
Little did you know – Sukuna had it moulded to fit his cock exactly, the thought that you were getting stretched out by his shape made it even sweeter when he heard your soft little whines. When he’d jerk it in his room, groaning and tilting his head against that wall like a pervert.
Sometimes he’d use your panties to cum, he loved when you couldn’t find them and got all upset – he even took your scrunchies because they smell like your shampoo. Okay maybe Sukuna’s a bit obsessed with you, but is Choso much better?
No, he’s not, Choso is just a little sneakier, thinking of fucking you and jerking it when he’s in the shower and you’re talking to him, trying to muffle his moans as he pictures you right on your knees.
Not that you’re aware of any of it.
Even now, they’re smushing you between them on the couch, manspread thighs against your own, you never get any space with these two.
“Hah, i’ll throw your ass right off rainbow fucking road,” Sukuna’s grinning like the psycho he is when he nudges your cart, your cute little Yoshi flying off.
“Ugh, you dick!”
“Sukuna,” Choso sighs and shakes his head. “Stop throwing her off.”
“Stop throwing her off,” you smack him with his mocking tone, getting back onto the road and speeding up. “Hah!”
“Not again!? You’re such a jerk!”
“I’ll avenge you angel,” Sukuna rolls his eyes when Choso runs Sukuna off the road, and his bowser goes flying, you snicker in laughter as Sukuna crashes out.
“Choso, my hero!”
“I’ll come fucking get the both of you,” Sukuna’s locked in, brows lowered – far too close to you now as if the couch isn’t big enough for him, his biceps flexing in a concerning ass way that makes you stop driving. “What brat, ya done?”
“I um…” you blink and focus once more, in time for Choso to lean forward, his elbow resting on your bare thigh so casually.
Casual.
You’re ovulating and losing mario kart!
“Mnh…”
They both look at you and you cover your face in embarrassment, slick dribbling down your inner thighs – you’re always wet around them but today is too fucking much, how many times a day can you change your panties? You could swear they keep coming up missing too.
“You all right angel?” Choso asks softly, tilting his head and looking at you far too closely, hand on your cheek. “You’re warm! Do you have a fever?”
“N-no,” Sukuna scoffs and yanks the remote from your hands, feeling your head for himself.
“You are warm, brat, better not be sick,” he tilts your chin up and smirks. “You lost big time, hah you suck.”
“Ugh!” You shove at him once more. “You suck! I’m fine!”
You three play another round and Sukuna won’t stop knocking you off, sending your car into a tailspin, you get so damn mad at him you toss the remote on the floor. Sukuna snorts when you cross your arms.
“Looking like a little spoiled brat.”
“I am not! You’re just rude!”
“Tch, can’t even lose a game,” you’re so irritated and so horny you can’t think right now, just glaring at the pink haired menace. “Don’t feel bad, I beat you at every single game, don’t I?”
“Sukuna stop,” Choso sets his remote down, wrapping a protective arm and tugging you against him. “Leave her alone, you’re really being a dick over it.”
“I am competitive, she’s the sore loser.”
“You’re not competitive, you’re being an ass,” you snuggle to Choso now and he blushes, your lips against his neck, tickling his skin.
“Thank you Cho,” you murmur, pressing a kiss, he sucks in a breath, hand tightening at your waist, Sukuna glares at the sight, smacking Choso’s hand right off you. “Hey!”
“You’re mad she’s snuggling to me.”
“Hah, right,” Sukuna stands up now, yanking you off Choso like the big brute he is, you kick at him and he smirks, yanking your ankle. “Think ya can hurt me, brat?”
“You’re the biggest brat there is, Ryomen Sukuna!”
“Wow, my full name – really,” you stick your tongue out and Sukuna bars you with his arms on the couch, making your breath catch. Just because he’s a dick doesn’t mean he’s not hot and ruining you with his proximity. “Admit you’re trash at Mario cart and I’ll make you feel real good, won’t have to fuck yourself tonight with your dildo collection.”
“Invasion of privacy! No, I won’t admit I suck,” you smack at his arm and then climb right onto Choso’s lap, he sucks in a breath at the action.
“Oh… Oh! Oh,” he’s gripping your waist with those big hands, dragging your heat against that bulge underneath his pants as you move your hips, his eyes darkening. “Hi.”
You giggle a bit at that, moving again, feeling Sukuna tense behind you. “Hi.”
“Get off his damn lap,” Sukuna turns your face towards him, just to get Choso smacking his hand away this time. “I’ll beat both your asses.”
“No you won’t,” Choso murmurs, turning your face to him now, thumb brushing little circles on your hip, making you even wetter. “I’ll make you feel good without you having to say you ‘suck’ at Mario cart. You don’t suck.”
“I can suck,” you whisper, leaning forward and giggling, Choso moans when you kiss his lips, and everything in your living room shifts.
It’s a desperate kiss once Choso gets a taste of you, moaning into your mouth and working your body against him, sucking in a breath, eyes fluttering shut, sucking your tongue in his mouth and rutting up against you. You whine out at it, you could almost cum from just feeling him, one of his hands entangling in his hair.
“Are you really gonna leave me out?” Sukuna asks, flipping you before you can think, now your back is pressed on Choso’s hard chest, Sukuna is kneeling, his hands pressing against your tits. You’re ovulating so bad they’re full and aching, your nipples sensitive when he brushes his thumbs on them. “You’re needy, huh brat?”
“Not for you and your Mario cart cheating tactics, mnh!” He uses a hand to tug up your shirt, your tits spilling out, earning his moan.
“Don’t want my mouth on them?” You can’t say no, not when Choso’s biting your neck, his fingers slipping up your shorts, making your thighs tremble, back arching for more of Sukuna’s touch. “Answer.”
“I am still mad at you, but I’ll let you do that,” he smirks as if he’ll get to fuck you – little does Sukuna know you take Mario Kart very seriously, and you’re planning on making your giant, pink haired roomie pay. “Mnh!”
Sukuna presses you back against Choso, grabbing your tit and wrapping his lips around the little bud, sucking it into the hot recesses of his mouth, tongue ring clicking against it and earning a soft moan. You move against Choso who whines out in response, cock licking so much sticky pre it’s drizzling against your inner thigh, his finger running over your panties.
“Ngh,” soft moans escape your lips as Sukuna sucks one nipple, the other toyed with by his thumb and forefinger, Choso’s running up and down your slit until you’re dripping wet. “Choso…”
“Even now?” Sukuna scowls and you grin, earning a sharp bite on your tit, leaving glistening teeth marks, you gasp in shock and he grins. “Marked you.”
“Freak,” you grumble, but he’s sucking your other nipple, and your hand finds its way in his pink silky hair, it’s so soft, you tug hard and he grips your tit hard, sucking it in his mouth as Choso toys your clit. “F-fuck… mnh…”
“You’re soaked baby,” Choso whispers, tilting your face to his and kissing you, messy with your tongues dripping saliva. “Like that?”
“Y-yes, ow!” Sukuna bites the fuck out of you again, earning your attention, you yank the fuck out of his hair and make him moan.
“Where’s my attention!?”
“I’m still mad, I already told you,” Sukuna tugs your shorts to the side, seeing how soaking wet you are, panties drenched.
“Already fuck yourself today?”
“Maybe,” he smirks. “Why?”
“Nothing – just that’s my cock.”
“What!?” You shove him hard, he’s chuckling and Choso’s damn near about to bust with how you wiggle. “You did not seriously? Psycho!”
“Bet you loved it,” you did, fuck him. “Could you take it all?”
“No – I mean!? Yep, hah wasn’t that -”
Before you can finish your petty lie, Sukuna’s kissing you, messy and mean with it, tongue ring clicking the roof of your mouth, you’re rocking back and forth, dying for them inside you. If you weren’t such a petty girl, maybe you’d let Sukuna slide his cock inside your cunt, where Choso’s running circles against your slick entrance – but you’re still mad about Mario Kart.
And now he’s making his cock your dildo!?
“You’re batshit insane,” you’re still kissing him though, Choso’s got your clit twitching and Sukuna’s pinching your nipples and rolling them, the simultaneous play is too much to handle. “You c-can’t just… mnh, d-do that.”
“That’s not fair, I wanna make you one,” Choso pouts as he sinks two fingers in your messy, needy cunt, you’re soaking them and quivering, sucking them up so damn easy. “Do you want one of me?”
“I do, stop biting, you dick!” Sukuna’s furious – how dare you give him all the attention when Sukuna is right there, he slips his finger down and Choso pulls his out with a wet pop, sucking on them and moaning.
Fuck he’s hot.
You’re a little lost when you realize Sukuna’s shoving two fingers deep, scissoring them in and out of your hole. “Hah your cunt is already fucked out, you must love my dick stretching your messy cunt out.”
“You w-wish,” your thighs are held up by Choso for Sukuna’s mean fingers to rock in and out of your cunt with loud squelches, your nails press into Choso’s forearms when he grips your tit, squishing it in his hand and rutting that leaky cock right on you. “Close, close… Sukuna!?”
“You thought,” he yanks his fingers out, smirking at the obscene amount dripping, slipping them right in your mouth. “Suck.”
You bob your mouth up and down his knuckles, cheeks all flushed and your eyes dazed, Sukuna moans at the sight, picturing how well you’d suck his cock, as you slip your tongue between those digits. Choso’s already fingering you again, your cheeks hollowed, eyes rolling back.
“I’ll let you cum baby,” he murmurs, Sukuna scoffs – Choso was always trying to ‘please you’ and this was no different, you’re sucking Sukuna’s fingers as his hand grips under your chin, Choso’s fingers making a mess between your thighs as you clamp down. “Go ahead, cum for me.”
“Mmph!” You’re drooling as Sukuna’s fingers go deeper, damn near choking you with them, orgasm making you squirt all over Choso’s lap, drops smacking against Sukuna’s pants, he groans at the sigh.
“Messy lil slut, look at ya, can’t handle a couple fingers?”
“Fuck off, was cummin’ for Choso,” Choso grins, his fingers easing out of your cunt with a messy pop as she keeps spasming, gushing arousal down onto the couch you’re sitting on. “Cho, come on.”
“Come where baby?”
“My room,” you stand and push past Sukuna, whose cock is so hard you can see it pressing out, he winces and has to adjust it when you’re crooking your finger. “You can watch.”
“Watch!? The fuck?”
You drag Choso – dopey grin on his face and all – giggling as you rush him to your room. “Yep.”
“I’m not just gonna watch you…” You’re stripped down right in front of them in moments, and both the boys have open mouths.
Listen, you’ve been waiting to fuck them, and cucking Sukuna seemed apt enough punishment after the shit he was pulling today. Your tits bounce when you turn to Choso, slipping off his shirt and running your fingertips across his tattooed chest, he snatches you up and kisses you, surprising you by how needy he is, you thought he may be shy.
He’s so not shy when he eagerly steps out of his pants, and you see all that white dripping through his boxers. “I am not watching.”
“You sit right there,” you point to your bright pink gaming chair, a big ass flower cushion and a plushy on it, Sukuna’s red eyes narrow – for a moment he does scare you, but not when he throws your plushy and pillow on the ground. “Hey!”
“Fuck off,” he sits in the chair and it creaks under his heavy weight, crossing his arms now. “Well, put on your little show – you’ll beg me to join.”
“You think so?”
“I know it, want all your holes filled,” his eyes drift down the curves of your body, his cock aching so badly he unzips his pants, watching your fucked out little gaze. “Like what you see?”
Who wouldn’t like that thick, veiny cock with the pierced reddened tip? Drooling white as he strokes it in front of you. Your throat goes dry as you consider if you can give him such a punishment, but you smile all mean.
“Admit you cheat at Mario Kart.”
“I don’t you brat!?”
“Then no,” you press Choso down on the bed, he’s tugging his boxers off, his pretty cock smacking his belly button, pre just dripping against that black strip of hair over his cock. “Oh… You’re so ready, aren’t you Choso?”
“Please,” he’s tugging you on him, giving Sukuna a view of your ass, your cunt gliding along Choso’s cock and dripping all over. “Oh pretty…”
He’s got a piercing too, right on his pretty pink tip, you’re running your slit right along it, hands braced on his chest, Choso's mouth wraps around your nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth. You’re whining out when he plays with the other, holding them both in his hands as you move.
“Your titties are so pretty,” he whispers, one hand slipping down to your waist, god he’s dreamed of you but not like this – gliding your cunt right on him? He could lift you and slam his cock so deep, but he also wants to let you tease him, edge him till he can’t help himself. “F-fuck… you’re so wet…”
“Rub it in,” Sukuna earns your laugh, peeking over your shoulder and arching so he has a look of your hole from the back. “I’d fuck you right in your ass first.”
“You would not!”
“Sure would, Choso can have your cunt..”
“I’ll take any hole,” you giggle again, kissing your roomie, his lips plush underneath yours, your nails press into his shoulders as his tip bumps your needy clit. “Ah! Choso…”
“Do you l-like it baby?” You nod eagerly, he’s sucking your tits again, dragging you down hard, his cock leaking more pre – so much he worries he did cum, but it’s still thickening against you. “Wanna fill you up with all my cum. Eat it out of you.”
“Mnh,” you’re leaning up now, gliding faster, watching Choso lose it, bruising your waist, his cheeks dusted with pink.
“You really gonna do all this for MARIO KART!? You’re such a petty little annoying brat.”
You glare and turn around, reverse cowgirl right on Choso’s cock, he’s whimpering and Sukuna’s stroking his cock, his lips parted as he takes in your body facing him. “You’re petty! And annoying, you never give me privacy!”
“Neither does he!?” Sukuna stands, his cock so heavy it’s just hanging, dripping on the pink fluffy rug.
“You’re making a mess, Kuna, all over my rug.”
His jaw sets, Choso’s fingers are pressing harder as he drags you up and down, gasping out. “Like you didn’t squirt on me!?”
“Can I put it in please?” Choso’s completely ignoring your spat – how can he think when he’s so close to being able to slide his cock inside your cute, soaking wet hole?
“Y-yes,” you let him lift you and grab his cock, wrapping his hand around the base, tip slipping in your hole. “Mnh!”
“Oh my god,” he drags you down in one stroke – deep inside – so much your tummy bulges for Sukuna to see, he groans at the sight, Choso lifting you and that mess of slick glistening. “You’re so f-fucking wet, god you feel so good.”
Sukuna’s gripping your hair and bending down as you ride Choso’s cock, ass bouncing up and down, nails pressing into his thighs to keep balance, he lifts your ass up and groans, fingers dimpling the plump flesh of your ass. “Making a whole show, aren’t you?”
You take your hand and swipe your thumb over Sukuna’s tip, licking it off and watching him lose it, only to rock on Choso’s cock more, feeling him hit your cervix, making you gasp out desperately. “You’re so deep, mnh!”
“Swear to god,” Sukuna’s stroking his cock when Choso sits up and puts you on all fours, slapping his heavy cock against your ass, you moan and arch, face precariously close to Sukuna’s cock. “Come on, fuck… just lemme…”
“You can jerk off near me,” You gasp out, a broken little moan spilling from your lips as Choso slams right back in, heavy balls kissing your clit, your head falling back. “You’re lucky to even get that.”
“Fuckin’ brat,” Choso’s groaning as you grip him with your gummy walls just fluttering, he can’t even focus on anything but the curve of your ass like this, the way his tip is pressing your cervix, how full his balls are.
Your thighs tremble, hands gripping the blanket, looking back at him all pretty as he splits you open on his cock. “Ch-choso… f-feels so…”
You break off talking when he shoves in hard, pinning you to him and rolling those hips – god Choso could fuck, you didn’t think he couldn’t exactly but you sure didn’t expect that. He slams again harder, pushing your face until your mouth is almost brushing Sukuna’s needy tip, just that has the six foot five man whimpering.
“Fuck… slutty lil brat,” you’d scowl or stick your tongue out but Choso’s hitting it too good, stretching you right out to his shape with messy strokes. Your mouth is open with your gasps, every stroke of Sukuna’s hand on his cock making your tummy clench any more.
“Y-you’re gonna admit you cheat,” you whisper, sucking in a breath when Choso grabs your shoulder and fucks in so deep it hurts. “Ah!”
“Stop fighting,” he whines out when you pulse around him, leaning over you and gripping your chin, turning you to him. “Just cum, lemme feel it milk me.”
Oh fuck.
You kiss him and let him rail you, as Sukuna has to watch the girl he’s jerked off to fuck his roomate – all because he just had to make her mad. He wishes it wasn’t so sexy hearing the skin smacking and your messy cunt squishing with every thrust, already about to bust like a pathetic loser.
“I’m s-sorry, fuck,” he mumbles, you pull back and Choso chuckles, slamming against you again, pushing you to arch more. “All right!? Shit you’re mean.”
“You’re s-sorry, really? Mnh!” He moans and grips your hair, jerking right in front of your face as Choso snaps his hips hard.
“Perfect cunt just gripping me, god jus’ like th-that,” he’s pussy drunk off you, he can’t help but be happy he’s inside and not in your bright pink cuck chair, or jerking it like Sukuna.
Not that he wouldn’t enjoy that too, but he’s been fisting his cock to you since the first day you met.
“M’gonna cum,” you whisper now, looking up at Sukuna and moaning, breath tickling the tip of his cock. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes, god just… can I just… cum on your tongue, fuck – I’ll let you win, n-next time just…”
You suppose you’ll take a little pity on him, opening your mouth with your little pink tongue out, letting Sukuna jerk it even closer, strings of puffy cum splattering all over your tongue, your mouth, your chin. It’s fucking filthy having it all over you as your orgasm hits, making you swallow all him up.
“Want me to cum inside your pretty lil hole?” Choso asks, you’re still swallowing Sukuna’s cum when he brushes it on your lips, stroking it so even more oozes from that little slit and decorates your lips.
You nod and arch, your nails now pressing into Sukuna’s thighs, Choso busting deep inside your cunt and all he can get is his tip grazing your damn tongue, he’s so desperate he’s happy for that. He’s groaning as he watches you get filled by Choso’s cum, your fucked out face and your crossed eyes.
“Wanna be inside next,” he mumbles, pulling back and groaning, your nails pressing into the tattoos on his muscled thighs as you tremble.
You’re flooded with Choso’s warmth, coating all your walls as he pulses, thickening even more, tip dragging on your spot over and over, making you both sensitive. “Took all that, so greedy.”
“Mhm,” you whisper, licking Sukuna’s cum off his thumb when he gathers it from your cheek, off your chin, slipping it in your mouth. “You came so much, Choso…”
“What about me you brat!?”
You grin and give him the tiniest kitten flick of your tongue on his tip, watching him jerk from just that. “I’ll maybe forgive you.”
“Maybe? Tch,” Choso pulls out of you with a messy pop, watching all his cum flood out of your hole, pushing it right out and dripping on your blankets.
“Look at all you took,” he plays with the sticky mess, fingering it right back inside and smirking at Sukuna. “I think she likes me more.”
“She does not, she’s just sadistic,” he’d be lying if he didn’t say that turned him on more. He helps you up on your knees, tilting your chin up and kissing his own cum off you, Choso’s kissing up your neck, as you feel him slipping out of you. “Evil little brat. You liked that dildo.”
“Maybe I’ll let you use it on me,” his brows lower as he glares again, Choso snorts against your neck, tugging you closer.
“Use my own dick on you!?”
“Then you can fuck me. If you’re nice.” You turn and straddle Choso again, kissing his mouth, he flicks his tongue and gathers the little bit of Sukuna’s cum off your mouth, moaning.
“Can I at least finger you, or am I still in trouble?” Sukuna pouts kind of cutely, you admit, so you nod, and let him kneel on the bed, fingering Choso’s cum back inside you.
* ˚ ✦ hate fucking fratboy sukuna (playboy!sukuna x cheater!reader) 18+
"you have a fucking what?" sukuna spits venom across your apartment, the veins in his fists bulging under his skin as he balls them into tight, trembling fists.
safe to say, ryomen’s pissed off. but you? you’re laid back against the leather couch, leisurely scrolling through your phone.
"a boyfriend."
to be fair, you were under the impression that he knew he was just a side piece. hm. not your fault he didn’t catch on to your very obvious signs until after he caught feelings.
last night marked the end of finals, so a rager was obviously the next order of business for the students of jujutsu tech.
you attended with your man, higuruma, who had no idea there was a six-foot-seven, tatted up, jacked monster staring holes through the side of his head from the kitchen.
"why the hell are you ogling [name]’s boyfriend like that, man? you look like a fucking homo." toji had teased him that night, words that were met with a jab to the gut as the pink-haired idiot shot to his feet and stalked straight up the spiraling frat staircase.
"why didn’t you tell me? i’m not into the whole cuck thing, [name]!" he seethes, stomping up to you in utter disbelief.
"i don’t understand why you’re so pissed. this was purely sex, sukuna." you gesture in between the two of you with a floppy finger. "it’s not like i cheated on you, so why do you give a fuck?" you ask, obviously not taking this as seriously as he is.
sukuna was a cool guy. he was the vice president of the school’s most notorious frat, the basketball team’s star player, and the hottest thing to come out since han solo, in his very humble opinion.
so you were right. why did he give a fuck? why did he care that some chick he’d been banging had a man? why did he care that a girl he was seeing didn’t reciprocate the same blossoming feelings of affection he’d never felt in his entire life until now? why?
"oh, fuck you, [name]. you’re a horrible fucking person." he snaps, trying so hard to seem like he doesn’t care, a sliver of nonchalance floating into his speech.
"and you’re some saint? what about that girl from alpha phi last year, huh? what about her?" you laugh, knowing the age-old rumors of him supposedly assaulting the girl would really get him going.
"don’t fucking say that! you know damn well i didn’t do shit to that lying bitch." he growls, nonchalance gone, now quite literally about to burst.
and you know he’s right, but it’s always so intoxicatingly funny watching him go all red in the face. probably also one of the reasons you kept him around this long.
"i’m just saying. you’ve got some big perfect version of me in your head, and i’m here to tell you that’s just not the case." you drag on, looking him dead in the eye as you smile with your next confession.
"you’re nothing more than a sex doll to me, sorry."
after your little confrontation, he stormed out so quickly you couldn’t even offer breakup sex. would he have taken the offer? no. he was a bonehead at the best of times, but not even you could sway him when he was in one of those moods. it would have served as a further tease, that was all.
you’d always been okay with everyone on campus, with no over-the-top scandals or college fallouts. sure, you were cheating on your boyfriend hiromi, but if you could turn a blind eye to 'shimizu' in his phone, he could let this slide if he were to ever find out. he was more of a publicity thing anyways, if anything.
other than that, you were thriving. everyone liked you, and on the surface? you liked everyone else too.
but under all of that shiny glaze was a certified man-hating schemer, one that had successfully sunken her teeth into jujutsu universities most renowned playboy, ryomen sukuna. go you.
he was the whole nine yards, really. his frat was well known for being sleazy, with each of the boys’ body counts easily exceeding the hundreds. gojo was the worst when it came to accusations, with hazing rumors and multiple disorderly conduct charges tucked under his belt. but your friends-with-benefits partner was a very close runner-up.
sukuna was the kind of guy who’d have one girl from alpha phi at nine, then party hop and screw another from gamma at twelve. watching the two chicks fight and turn against each other in the hallway the next morning gave him the most exhilarating high.
it was clear he thrived off of discourse.
that was, of course, until he discovered you.
you were so unfairly calm compared to the hectic lifestyle he led. you were friends with good people, intelligent, answered all the lecturers’ questions without seeming weird or nerdy in your joint classes. and to top it all off, you were absolutely stunning.
with normalcy being a foreign concept to him, you intrigued ryomen to no end.
he was clearly into you if the constant staring from the back of the lecture hall wasn't obvious enough. and one day, he finally plucked up the courage to talk to you at a charity event some sorority across campus was hosting.
he’d meant for the meeting to result in something a little more than a hookup. hell, maybe even a date if he played his cards right. alas, all that came from his awkward first conversation with you that day was a night full of, admittedly, amazing sex.
and it just never changed.
every time there was a get-together, every time there was a party or a function, the night would end with the two of you scurrying off to fuck like bunnies.
he had a high libido, and you, even more so. one fuled with the need to be better than the guy who thought he was the shit. it was a good arrangement, all things considered.
higuruma didn't really like parties, he'd much rather stay back in the library and study for the bar with shimizu or whatever his excuse to bone her was. so it was free reign for you. sukuna stayed oblivious to the fact due to your instagram featuring exactly none of hiromi, and he had no mutual friends with you that could tell him about the hook-nosed man.
and things went well like this for ages, maybe two months.
until, sukuna started thinking long and hard about his feelings and where he stood with you, the captivating girl he’d decided he wanted more than a friends-with-benefits situation with.
after some soul-searching, he hatched a plan to bag the goods.
1: drop the other girls he was seeing.
he couldn’t say he was in love with a girl and then also be fucking five of her friends. even he could see that was kinda fucked.
2: dial back the crazy sex and focus on making you feel appreciated.
you’d both agreed rough sex was high on the cards for both of you, but sukuna knew that constant pussy pounding wouldn’t make him seem like the loving type. no, surely not. so he made an effort to slow his thrusts, to kiss your lips instead of biting your neck, and to eat you out first before slamming into you. very gentlemanly.
3: work on himself.
he knew he was a messed up guy. a step in the right direction to getting the girl of his dreams would be to first, fix himself. he started smoking less, going to the gym more often, spending time with is friends. this one was the hardest, but he did try.
and 4: pluck up the courage to finally confess.
yes, the final step in his foolproof plan was to ask you about your feelings and, in turn, tell you his.
and to be fair, his plan was going great up until that last step. he got to your apartment, and before you could pounce, he popped the question.
"[name], what do you think about, like… a relationship?"
"what, like with you and me?"
"obviously."
...
"i have a boyfriend."
silence.
"you have a fucking what?"
~
sukuna didn’t tell anyone about your now-severed arrangement, nor that you were cheating on your boyfriend with him.
i mean, it’s not like he had any proof anyway.
with other girls, he had no issue filming or snapping pics of the sex for future jerk-offs, but for some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to with you. maybe it’s because he saw you as an actual person with autonomy or something, as fucked up as that sounds. oh, how he regretted having humility now.
so no, exposing you wasn’t on the table no matter how desperately he wanted to ruin your life, he didn’t have any hard evidence and you definitely wouldn’t just bend over and admit it.
so he’s left sitting here stewing at the next function, eyeing you from across the room as you dance and grind up on higuruma.
"fucking women," he mutters to himself, skulling half his drink and letting out a groan as he pulls the bottle away from his lips.
"mhm, hate those whores." naoya suddenly appears beside him, plopping down onto the leather like they’ve been best friends for years, despite sukuna rocking his shit just two months ago for touching up an underaged freshman.
the tatted man has to bite his tongue and get up. he’s mad, maybe even jealous, but not talk-about-screwing-with-women-for-fun mad. that was reserved for zenin and his fucked-up frat.
"rude motherfucker," the pierced misogynist scoffs.
sukuna only throws a finger over his shoulder and makes a beeline for the stairs.
you, on the other hand, are having a fantastic night.
from your spot across the way, seeing sukuna storm out after catching a glimpse of you and higuruma drives you crazy with enthrallment. never in your life have you been so eager to screw around with someone more than right now.
his little tantrum in your apartment was fresh in your brain, you just couldn't get enough of that pissed off expression after you'd told him the truth of your arrangement.
you desperately wanted to see it again.
"hiro, i’ll be back. just gotta take a breather." you flutter up at your perfect little boyfriend, and he nods and smiles like a well-trained dog.
you follow in sukuna’s footsteps, aiming to catch him by surprise on the way to his room, the one you knew all too well.
his bedroom door swings open with a violent shove, the wood smacking against the rubber stopper. he stalks inside without looking back with his shoulders slumped and his hands itching for a cigarette.
you slip in right on behind him.
"you're awfully quiet tonight ,ryo."
the rate in which he whips his head around mid sentence is impressive. "what the fuck are you—"
you lift a finger and press it to his red lips.
"shh."
it's so casual.. it would feel like sweet, like one of those affectionate gestures he'd stupidly gotten used to with you if you hadn't broken his heart just a few days ago.
he can't stop himself from freezing at the contact, his ruby red eyes becoming slitted and cutting through the fury etched into his face. you take full advantage of his stunned state, and you pull your phone out.
and you snort.
"oh my god," you smile between giggles, opening the camera. "i need to keep that look somehow. it’s so fucking funny."
you lean back a little to get him in frame chocking back laughter as you paparazzi the guy. "hold on, don’t move. you look so pathetic right now."
that just about does it.
his hand shoots out and the phone is gone from your grip in an instant. he tosses it onto his bed without even glancing, the device bouncing once against the sheets.
"are you out of your fucking mind?" he demands.
before you can answer, his fingers clasp dangerously around your wrist, tight.
he yanks you forward and pivots, slamming you back against the wall beside his closet with a loud smash.
his arm cages you in as your poor back hits solid plaster. he's so close to you that the vein popping out of his head looks like it's pulsating.
"you think this is a joke?" he spits. "you think i’m some fucking circus act for you to sit around and laugh at?"
you try so hard not to grin, you really do...
"you kind of are," you admit, your lips itching up.
his grip tightens further around your wrist. "i hate you."
"aw, no you don’t."
"i don’t wanna fucking see you again."
"mm, that’s a lie too."
he looks like he's about to implode with sheer anger, "you’re so fucking annoying. you come in here, shove your phone in my face, laugh at me—"
"oh, c'mon. you made a big song and dance about storming up here" you interrupt lightly. "i just followed. don’t act like you didn’t want me to."
his stare sharpens. "i didn’t."
you flutter your eyes up at him sweetly. "oh, but i bet you're glad i did. did y' miss me?"
that shuts him up for a second and you press your luck.
"y'know, it’s not my fault." you murmur thoughtfully, "not my fault the big, bad, scary sukuna caught a crush on little old me."
oh he looks feral. you keep on pushing, though.
"what did you expect, honestly? that i’d hear you say relationship and just drop to my knees and thank you for the honor?"
his hand shifts from your wrist to the wall beside your head, palm flat against it.
"shut up."
"you’re the one who wanted to talk about feelings," you say, shrugging as much as you can with him crowding you. "i was perfectly happy with the arrangement."
his eyes narrow further. "yeah. i noticed."
you smile cheekily.
"hey, it's okay. don’t act embarrassed now." you tease. "it's fine that you wanted to play house all of a sudden. kissing instead of biting n' going all gentle." you let the word drag out so he could relive every night he decided to do things vanilla. "it was weird, sure. but i didn't mind."
his teeth grit. "i was trying to treat you right."
"why?"
that question pummels into his psyche harder than the incessant teasing, and for a second he actually looks thrown.
you lean closer, lowering your voice. "why would you try n' treat me right? you can't even treat yourself right."
"fuck you."
"you wanted me to like you," you continue, ignoring him. "that’s cute. really. you thought if you stopped fucking other girls and started working on yourself, i’d magically see you as boyfriend material."
his hand moves from the wall to your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
"i said shut up."
you laugh under your breath. "aw. hit a nerve?"
he leans in closer, foreheads nearly touching now.
"you don’t get to stand there and talk down to me," he growls. "you don’t get to act superior just because you decided to be a bitch and play me."
"play you?" you echo. "i never lied to you. you just filled in blanks i never promised to fill. doesn't feel too good getting manipulated to someone else's agenda, does it? this is just good karma for all the girls you've ruined."
his complete and utter silence tells you that one really stung.
you soften your tone just enough to make it worse. "you built this whole version of me up in your head. you think i'm sweet, exclusive, just waiting around for you to finally pick me."
your smile sharpens again. "that’s on you."
his chest rises and falls hard. he looks furious, humiliated, and you love it.
"you think you’re better than me."
you hum. "i think i’m smarter than you."
that earns you a sharp shove back against the wall.
"you don’t get to mock me for feeling this shit for you, so what i wanted to do something good with my life, what the fuck is wrong with that?" he seethes.
you shrug again. "i’m not mocking you for feeling something, it's just funny that you think i owed you the same in return."
he studies you for a long second.
you can practically see it happening, the way your words wind him up so much tighter, the way he’s fighting between shoving you away and pulling you closer.
his stare burns into you, and you can feel the absolute anger radiating off him.
"i don’t want you," he says through his teeth.
"then why are you still holding me?"
"fuck you."
"i wish you would."
and with a sigh as to say, 'fuck it', he smashes his lips against yours in the hardest, deepest kiss you'd ever recieved from the man.
his hand leaves the wall and grips you tightly, shoving you harshly off of the plaster and you stumble back a step before he advances again, forcing you toward the bed.
"you think this is funny?" he demands, voice rough and course with anger.
you can only cheese in response and that seems to piss him off ten times as much.
he grabs you by the waist and tosses you onto the mattress like a ragdoll. you bounce once against the sheets n' he’s already climbing over you before you can even try to prop yourself up on your elbows.
"you want it rough," he mutters, bracing both your wrists above your head with one hand. "i'll give you rough, slut."
that definitely did what he'd hoped it would.
he kisses you in that disgustingly possessive way again, biting at your bottom lip and wedging his knee rough up into the space between your thighs. you let out a hmph that's shortly followed by a light slap to the side of your hip.
"shut the fuck up. you wanted this shit, take it like a champ." he growls, then resumes attacking your neck with deep bites.
you wriggle your hands free from his grasp, then grab at his shirt, fisting the fabric and pulling him closer instead of pushing him away like you probably should.
he makes a low, irritated sound when you nip at his bottom lip like he'd been doing.
"don’t," he warns.
but you do it again.
his hands slide down your sides now, gripping you tight at your hips. he kisses you far harder, far deeper, tilting his head to take more of you away, to take control back.
you arch up into him deliberately, then whisper, "thought you didn’t want me," against his mouth.
"shut up."
his hands fly to your shirt, ripping it up and over your head like a piece of rag, and you help him toss it to the floor.
you, in turn, tug off his shirt and scrape your nails down his now bare chest.
he exhales sharply through his nose and grabs your wrists for half a second, pinning them above your head once more.
"listen to me," he says.
you fake a yawn in reply.
he takes his free hand and squeezes your face, forcing you to look at him. "you're gonna take this shit like a good girl, and if you act like a brat, i'll fuck you five times harder. got it?"
you nod, albeit sloppily.
"good."
you use the moment to hook your leg around his waist and flip the balance just enough to make him adjust. your hands then slide free and you push at his shoulders, forcing him to shift so you can finally get at his belt.
"impatient little thing," he mutters.
"mm, fuck you." you grin, knowing it'll be met with a slap! to the ass.
"you're really asking for it." he warns, hiking up your skirt and slipping off your panties with urgency, huffing lowly as he catches a glimpse of the slick already pooling in the fabric. "pretty fucking wet for someone so high and mighty."
you suppress a moan as his fingers begin to circle your clit, "you won't do shit." you test. and just like that, his patience finally runs thin.
"oh yeah?"
you regret saying that... well, sort of. because now, all 8 inches of him is pumping in and out of your soaked cunt with a pace so maddening you start seeing stars within the first minute.
"o-oh- fuckk, slow down... please, slow down!" you plea, but the tatted man just laughs in between huffs, groaning triumphantly as he feels you squeeze him tighter and tighter with each tantalising drag.
"nah, you —fuuuck— you take this fucking cock like you oh so desperately wanted to." he pounds you deeper with each word.
"you wan' us to stay fuck buddies? fine. then take this cock however the fuck i decide to give it to you, slut —hah—" he taunts, watching maniacally as your body gyrates beneath him from the force in which he was fucking you.
it's too much. he's got a hand on your throat now, holding you down tight so he can properly reach every part of your cunt. his others holding your legs wiiide open, pulling you onto him deeper earning him the most desperate little whimpers.
"my god, that's right, let me hear how fucking pathetic you turn for some good dick. jesus christ- wanna play around with me? this is how it'll turn out for you. every. single. time." he slams into you hard with those last words. really hammering home the message.
he's gone crazy, fucking into you so rough you don't even know what to do with yourself. you're reduced to a puddle of moaning, babbling mess, swimming in the ecstasy that was ryomen sukuna and his monster cock.
if you knew rejecting him so hard would get you dicked down this good in some big, roundabout way, you would of done it ages ago.
he puts you in a plethora of positions, flipping and tossing you around like you weigh nothing, each position more hard hitting than the last.
"f-fuck, right there! ryo! m' gonna-"
"r-r-ryo!" he mocked, laughing evilly as he pushes down on your tummy to really make you feel it. "yr' gonna cum, huh? gonna cum on my dick like a good girl? that's fucking right, cum on my cock, baby." he smiles through gritted teeth, pumping faster and faster trying his best to make this orgasm rip through you like a tidal wave.
after all, he needed to give you one good reason to keep coming back after all of this bullshit.
you feel that coil in your stomach pull tighter and tighter, until finally with one last thrust, you're coming undone all over sukuna's throbbing, spewing cock.
"oh god, that's it." he moans, spilling into you with hot, thick ropes of cum.
~
after things cool off, he’s on top of you staring down and examining like he’s trying to decide if he’s satisfied or still mad.
“you done proving a point?” you mutter softly, tired.
he exhales through his nose, rolling off you and onto his back. one arm comes up behind his head, the other falls over his stomach, “don’t start,” he says.
you shift onto your side to look at him but he won’t meet your eyes at first.
“so what,” you press, propping your chin on your palm. “that was your big revenge plan? fuck me insaneo style and expect our little arrangement to go back to normal.”
he shoots you a pretty annoyed look. “you think everything’s a joke.”
“well, most things are.”
he goes a little soft for a sec then more serious than he’s been all night, “i meant what i said.”
you don’t play dumb, you know which part. “about hating me?” you try, even though you know that's not it.
“about wanting you.”
hm.
he finally turns his head to look at you without the pent up rage and without the crazy ego.
“i don’t want to be some fucking side piece,” he says flatly. “i don’t want to be the guy you sneak around with when your boyfriend’s busy.”
you arch a brow. “you were fine with it before.”
“i wasn’t,” he corrects. “i just didn’t know better., i haven't done this shit before”
“and what,” you ask lightly, though your tone isn’t as sharp as before. “you’re suddenly boyfriend material?”
“if that’s what it takes, i'll try my best to be that for you.”
okay, maybe he was growing on you.
“i dropped the other girls,” he adds. “i meant that too.”
you hum softly. “and if i break up with higuruma?”
“then i’m all in,” he says immediately.
“you’re willing to put in the effort?”
“yes.”
“even when i’m being annoying?”
“you’re always annoying.”
you grin. “answer the question.”
he sighs. “yes. even then.”
you roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling.
“i might break up with him,” you say casually, like you’re commenting on the weather. “if you’re really serious.”
he pushes up onto one elbow instantly. “don’t say shit like that unless you mean it.”
you glance over at him, amused. “i do.”
“then do it.”
"i will. gotta give it time, though."
he shakes his head, but there’s no malice anymore.
you sit up, dragging the sheet around yourself.
“besides,” you add with a sly smile, “it’d be kind of a waste to let sex like that go to waste.”
he stares contemplatively at you for a bit before a reluctant smirk itches at his mouth.
“that the only reason?”
you shrug. “it’s a strong selling point.”
"you're such a brat." he sighs.
"mhm, love you too."
"what!?"
from i hate you to i love you in two hours, he was in for a long ride.
apart of @dollhousesinner one night event! the night he finds out, and the night you become more than just fuck buddies 💘 also this request !
Definition: The Eiffel Tower is classic threesome geometry: you on all fours (hands and knees), one pounding you from behind, the other kneeling/standing in front getting deepthroated.
The restaurant in Ginza is the kind of place Hiromi picks when he’s trying and, mostly failing, to pretend he’s not exhausted from another 14-hour day. You’re halfway through dessert, laughing at the way he’s dramatically narrating the latest courtroom disaster like it’s a true-crime podcast, when you feel someone stop at your table.
You look up. Nanami Kento. Blond hair still perfectly parted, suit still immaculate even at 10 p.m. Your stomach drops. Hiromi glances up too, then does a visible double-take. His tired eyes widen behind his glasses. “Kento?” “Hiromi?” Nanami’s voice is surprised. “I didn’t know you were in Ginza tonight.”
Hiromi stands immediately—old habit from college days, apparently and claps Nanami on the shoulder “It’s been—what, six years? Seven? Sit, sit. You remember—” He gestures to you, beaming like he’s just won the lottery.
Your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. Your goddamn ex-boyfriend who Hiromi had no idea you’d dated. Nanami’s gaze slides to you. Politely nodding, “Of course.”
“Well,” he says, clapping his hands once, “this is fantastic. Small world. Kento, you’re not busy, right? Come back to our place. Catch up properly.” You stare at him like he’s lost his mind. Nanami hesitates then nods once. “If it’s no trouble.” Hiromi reassures him, already signaling for the check. “Anything to catch up with an old friend, right? No trouble at all.”
You’re going to fkning murder him.
Arriving home, the apartment door clicks shut behind the three of you. Hiromi immediately heads for the kitchen, shedding his jacket over the back of a chair, “Whiskey orrr whiskey?” he calls without turning around. You drop your bag on the entry table with more force than necessary. Nanami stays near the door for a second longer than he needs to, loosening his tie with the same deliberate calm he used to use when he was about to end a long day by ending things with you.
“Whiskey’s fine,” Nanami says. Hiromi pours three glasses without asking if anyone wants ice. He hands one to Nanami first then you. You all sit. You take the couch. Nanami takes the armchair across from you. Hiromi perches on the arm of the couch next to you, close enough that his thigh presses against your shoulder.
“So.” He swirls the glass lazily. “Kento. Still doing the corporate bullshit. “Or did you finally tell them to fuck off like we talked about senior year?” Nanami smiles, “Still employed. Still billing hours. You?”
“Still losing cases I should win and winning ones I shouldn’t.” Hiromi shrugs. “Same shit. You remember that class I had to retake four damn times?” “Oh—yeah,” he says, motioning toward you with a small lift of his chin. “You were in it. Same section. Same professor. You used to finish the hypotheticals before Ikeda even finished reading the facts. I sat behind you every Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Ikeda’s class. The one with the curved grading and the weekly hypotheticals that made half the section cry.” Hiromi clarifies. Nanami nods once. “That one.” Hiromi’s gaze snaps to you disbelieving, “You were in Ikeda’s morning section?”
You swallow. “Yeah.” staring into your whiskey like it might grow a mouth and save you.
Nanami continues, “We dated for a little over a year. Then I graduated early. Corporate offer came in. Timing didn’t work.” ‘GODFCKN DAMNIT KENTO why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut.’
Hiromi goes still. The room is so quiet you can hear the refrigerator hum. Hiromi takes a sip slowly. “You dated,” he repeats. Hiromi looks at you then sets his glass down with a soft clink. “So,” he says casually, “you two have history.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Hiromi—”
Hiromi lets out a short, incredulous laugh that has no humor in it. “I was in the afternoon section. Same professor. Same material. Same fucking hell. And you—” He points at you, then at Nanami, then back at you. “—were in the same goddamn classroom as him. Every Tuesday and Thursday. For a whole semester.” You open your mouth. Nothing helpful comes out. Nanami exhales through his nose—the same sound Hiromi makes. It’s uncanny. Hiromi’s eyes flick to you. “And then you met me.”
You glare. “You’re making this weird.” “I’m making it honest.” He leans back, arms crossed. “I mean, come on. My old college friend—who I haven’t seen in years—happens to be your ex. And neither of you thought to mention it until we’re all three sitting here.”
Nanami looks at you. “I thought you would have told him.” “I thought it was ancient history,” you mutter. Hiromi snorts. “Ancient history, sure. So, which one of us fucks you better?” Kento chokes on his drink, as you shoot your boyfriend a glare, “What has gotten into you?!”
“What’s gotten into me?” he echoes, “I don’t know—maybe the fact that my girlfriend’s ex is sitting in my living room, drinking my whiskey, and apparently sat behind her in the same goddamn Contracts class I used to come home and bitch about every single week. Maybe it’s the part where neither of you thought that was worth mentioning. Ever. Or maybe—” he tilts his head, eyes flicking between you and Nanami, “—it’s the part where I’m sitting here realizing the guy who used to steal my ramen and proofread my briefs is the same guy who used to fuck my girlfriend.”
Nanami sets his glass down carefully. “Hiromi,” he says gently, “That’s enough.” Hiromi’s laugh is bitter, “Is it? Because I’m just getting started.”
You stand up so fast the couch creaks. “Hiromi, stop.” He looks up at you angrily, “I’m not mad at you,” he says, “I am mad that you lied. For pulling this shit tonight. I’m mad that I invited him here like an idiot because I was happy to see an old friend. And I’m mad that—” He gestures vaguely at the three of you. “—this is happening. All of it.”
Nanami stands slowly. “I can go.” Hiromi’s head snaps toward him. “Sit the fuck down, Kento.”
Nanami doesn’t sit. He just stays standing, hands loose at his sides, waiting. Hiromi exhales, “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “That was out of line. The question. All of it.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know how to process this without sounding like a jealous asshole.”
You soften despite yourself. “You’re not an asshole. You’re just… processing. Loudly.” He huffs a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. That tracks.”
Nanami goes to turn and leave, “I didn’t come here to cause problems,” he says. “And I’m not here to compete. If you want me to leave, I will. No hard feelings.” Hiromi studies him for a long beat. Then he looks at you again. “I don’t want either of you to leave.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his already wrecked hair. “You’re really gonna say that right now.”
You shrug, helpless. “It’s the truth.” He looks between you and Nanami like he’s weighing between jealousy, curiosity, maybe both and then his mouth curves into a smirk. “Alright then,” he says, sliding off the arm of the couch, settling properly beside you, one arm draping behind your shoulders, fingers brushing the nape of your neck as his eyes stay locked on Nanami.
“You still think about her?” Hiromi asks bluntly. Kento takes a sip before answering. “I don’t lie to myself about the past,” he says evenly. “Yes. Sometimes.”
Hiromi’s thumb strokes once against you, “And you?” He turns to you, voice dropping. “You still think about him?”
“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “Not like before. But… yeah.” Hiromi nods once, like that’s the permission he needed. He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Then go ahead and fuck him.” Your cough turns into a startled laugh. “Go on, baby. I know you want to.” He urges you again. You hesitate before softly saying, “Ken… come here.”
Hiromi shifts, pulling you back against his chest so you’re half in his lap, legs parting instinctively as Nanami sinks to one knee between them. Kento’s hands settle on your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up inch by inch while Hiromi mouths along the side of your neck, “Look at her,” Hiromi murmurs against your skin, “Isn’t she so pretty.”
Nanami’s thumbs trace slow circles higher, higher, until they brush the damp lace between your legs. You arch without meaning to, a soft moan slipping out. Hiromi hums approvingly, one hand sliding down to cup your breast through the dress, thumb flicking over the nipple until it pebbles.
Kento hooks his hand through your wet panties, shoving them aside. The first swipe of his tongue is slow, like he’s relearning every inch. You gasp, hips jerking, but Hiromi bands an arm around your waist, holding you still. “Easy, baby,” he soothes, even as his other hand works the zipper of your dress down. “Let him taste what he’s been missing.”
Nanami groans against you, his tongue circles your clit once, twice, then dips lower, lapping at your pussy. Hiromi’s already hard against your ass through his slacks. His arm tightens around you, holding you open, “Tell him how much you missed this,” Hiromi whispers, “Tell him, baby. He’s listening.”
You start trembling and whimpering, “I—I missed your mouth, Ken. The way you… fuck, the way you always knew exactly—” Nanami doesn’t let you finish—just doubles down, sucking gently on your clit until your thighs tremble. Hiromi finally gets your dress off your shoulders, baring your breasts to the cool air of the apartment. He rolls one nipple between his fingers, pinching just hard enough to make you whine.
“Look at him,” Hiromi orders, “Look at how much he wants this.” You do. Nanami’s eyes are half-lidded and focused, blond hair falling forward as he works you over with devastating patience. When he slides two fingers inside making you whimper, back bowing. Hiromi laughs softly, “There it is. That sound I love.”
He shifts behind you, freeing himself from his pants with one hand while the other keeps you pinned. His cock presses hot and heavy against your lower back as he strokes himself lazily, watching Nanami devour you. “Think you can take both of us?” Hiromi asks, lips at your ear. “Like we talked about that one night. Remember my pretty girl?” Your brain short-circuits. “Yes—fuck, yes.” Nanami pulls back just enough to speak, lips shiny. “Hell yes.”
Hiromi nods in agreenment, before pressing a kiss beneath your ear. “You heard him, sweetheart. He’s in.”
Nanami rises smoothly to his feet, shedding his jacket, The metallic clink is obscenely loud in the quiet room. Hiromi helps you turn, maneuvering you until you’re facing the back of the couch, knees sinking into the cushions, ass presented. “Hands here,” Hiromi murmurs, guiding your palms to the backrest. “Keep them there unless one of us says otherwise.” You nod, breath hitching.
He walks around behind you, slapping your ass as Kento appears in front of you. “Hi, pretty girl.” He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Open.” You do, tongue flat, and he slides in slow—filling your mouth inch by inch until your lips stretch around him. The weight of him on your tongue makes you moan around the shaft; he exhales sharply through his nose, hand sliding into your hair to guide the rhythm.
Behind you, Hiromi lines up, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave prints, the other spreading you open. He pushes in with one long, steady thrust, your back arching with a muffled cry vibrating around Kento's cock.
“Fuck,” Higuruma rasps, “So tight after all that arguing earlier. You were waiting for this, weren’t you?” You can’t answer—mouth full—but you push back against him, clenching deliberately. He groans, hips snapping forward harder, setting a brutal pace that rocks you onto Nanami’s length.
His control slips a fraction. Hiromi’s thrusts drive you forward forcing more of Nanami’s cock past your lips until the head bumps the back of your throat. You gag softly, eyes watering, swirling your tongue under the ridge just the way you remember he liked. The two of them find rhythm without speaking: one pulls out as the other pushes in, seesawing you between them until your whole body is shaking.
“Goddamn,” Hiromi growls, fingers digging deeper into your hips as he watches the way your throat works around Nanami. “Look at that. Taking him like you never forgot how.” He begins thrusting deeper, balls slapping against you with every snap. You whine around Nanami’s cock—drool slipping down your chin—as Higuruma angles just right. Kento tightens his grip in your hair, fucking your mouth while Higuruma rails you. Nanami pulls out just enough to let you gasp, strings of spit connecting your lips to his tip. “Words,” he says calmly. “Tell us how it feels, baby.”
You manage a whimpered, “F-fuck—full—don’t stop—” Higuruma’s rhythm stutters at your voice. They sync up—Higuruma slamming deep from behind, Nanami sliding back into your mouth. The position holds: you bridged between them, body rocking with every thrust, throat and cunt stuffed. Nanami’s thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that slipped free when you took him especially deep. “Still so good at this. Always were.”
Hiromi laughs possessively, “Yeah? Tell me something I don’t know, Kento.”
Nanami’s eyes flick to Hiromi over the top of your head, “She used to come untouched just from sucking me off,” he says, “First time it happened she cried—thought something was wrong with her. Took me half an hour of coaxing to get her to admit how close she was.”
Hiromi’s thrusts turned punishing, that comment clearly hit a nerve. “Is that right?” Hiromi rasps, one hand sliding up your spine to fist lightly in your hair, tilting your head back so Nanami can sink even deeper. “You never told me that, baby. Keeping secrets from me now?”
You can’t answer—mouth too full, throat working frantically—but your body does: a fresh gush of wetness before you come first shaking hard, muffled screams around Kento as your walls flutter and clamp down on Hiromi as his pace turns erratic. “Fuck—fuck, that’s it—squeeze me just like that—”
Nanami pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, hand stroking himself fast, eyes locked on your wrecked expression. “Where do you want it?” he asks, voice strained. You don’t even have to think. “On me,” you rasp, voice hoarse. “Both of you.”
Hiromi swears viciously as he pulls out at the last second, flips you onto your back so fast the room spins, then straddles your hips. They stroke themselves in tandem—Hiromi’s hand flying over his cock, Nanami’s slower but no less desperate—until they both come.
Hiromi comes first, hot stripes painting your stomach, your breasts, one pulse landing across your nipple. Nanami follows seconds later, spilling over your chest, your collarbone, a few drops catching your chin when you tilt your head back for him. Hiromi exhales roughly, dropping down beside you, pulling you half into his lap before reaches for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and drapes it gently over your lower half.
Hiromi snorts softly. “Ever the gentleman even when he’s fucked my girlfriend. Classic Kento.” Nanami’s mouth quirks—just the tiniest hint of a smile. “Someone has to be.”
You laugh, weak and shaky, head lolling against Hiromi’s shoulder. “You two are ridiculous.”
Nanami disappears into the hallway without a word, returning a minute later with a damp washcloth and a glass of water. Classic fuckin’ Kento, what a sweetie. He hands you the glass first. You take it with trembling fingers, sip slowly, grateful for the cool slide down your raw throat. Then he kneels again between your spread thighs and gently wipes the mess from your stomach, your breasts, your collarbones with slow careful strokes.
Hiromi watches the whole thing with half-lidded eyes, one arm still slung around your shoulders. “You always this sweet after you come on someone else’s girl, Kento?” Nanami doesn’t look up from his task. “Only when she asks nicely.”
You choke on a laugh that turns into a soft groan when the cloth brushes a particularly sensitive spot. “Stop. Both of you.” Hiromi smirks, reaches over to take the washcloth from Kento’s hand, and finishes the job himself dragging the damp fabric across your nipple until it pebbles again under the attention.
You look back up at Kento, about to ask him not to leave before Hiromi beats you to it. “You should stay,” he says, “Since it’s already so late y’know.”
Kento looks up, eyes flicking from Hiromi to you. You reach out before you can overthink it, fingers curling loosely around Nanami’s wrist. “Please,” you add softly. “Stay.” He brushes your hair to the side of your face, “Alright, of course. I’ll stay.”
Hiromi smirks lazily, already reaching for the half-empty whiskey glasses on the table. “Good. Because we’re not done catching up.” You bury your face in Hiromi’s neck to hide your blushing.
Whatta small world, indeed.
a/n: several pussy pleasure breaks were taken during the writing of this and I j wanted to share that ALSO credits to @owwllly for this masterpiece of art they drew
frat!jo’s ur regular hookup, but nerd!kuroo has you distracted every time… you never imagined they’d both share you one night . . mdni.
art by lovebykrkn on tt !
you’ve been hooking up with gojo satoru for months now, ever since that one wild frat party where he cornered you against the kitchen counter with his stupid charming grin and those piercing blue eyes. he’s the president of the frat house, throwing endless parties here and there, the kind of guy who pulls everyone into his orbit without even trying and who probably had fucked the whole girls population in the campus.
and yeah, the sex is good with him -mind-blowing, even, with his endless stamina and the way he knows exactly how to make you finish. but deep down, it’s not him you’re craving.
no, it’s kuroo tetsurou. the hot nerd who somehow manages to be both buried in textbooks and pulling girls left and right.
he’s friends with gojo, weirdly enough - they met through some campus club or whatever, and now they’re inseparable. kuroo’s got that messy black hair that falls just right over his sharp eyes, always wearing those fitted button-ups or hoodies that hug his broad shoulders a little too well for someone who claims to live in the library. he’s got this sly, teasing smile that makes your stomach flip, and unlike gojo’s loud chaos, kuroo’s got this quiet intensity that pulls you in like gravity.
you’ve seen him at parties, leaning against walls with a drink in hand, chatting up whoever catches his eye. girls flock to him, drawn to that mix of brains and brawn - he’s captain of the intramural volleyball team, after all, so he’s toned as hell under those nerdy glasses. but you? you’re stuck in gojo’s bed most nights, pretending his touches are enough while your mind wanders to what kuroo’s hands would feel like.
it starts innocently enough. another friday night, another frat bash at gojo’s place. the house is thumping with bass, bodies pressed together in the living room, smelling like cheap perfume and a little weed. red solo cups spilling everywhere. you show up in a tiny skirt and cute top, hoping maybe kuroo will be there - he usually crashes these things when gojo drags him out of his dorm. and sure enough, you spot him across the room, laughing with a group of girls, his arm slung casually over one’s shoulder. jealousy twists in your gut, but you push it down, grabbing a drink and finding gojo instead.
he’s all over you in seconds, pulling you onto the middle with his hands on your hips, grinding against you to the beat. “missed you, baby,” he murmurs in your ear, breath hot and alcohol-scented. you fake a giggle, letting him spin you around, but your eyes keep darting to kuroo. he catches your gaze once, twice, that smirk playing on his lips like he knows exactly what’s running through your head.
hours blur by in a haze of shots and dancing. gojo’s got you pinned to a wall at one point, kissing you sloppy and deep, his hand sneaking under your skirt in the dark. you moan into his mouth, but .
eventually, the party winds down, people stumbling out or crashing on couches. gojo tugs you upstairs to his room, but he’s drunker than usual, slurring something about how hot you look tonight.
that’s when kuroo appears at the door, knocking lightly. “yo, gojo, you seen my keys? think i left ’em in here earlier.” his voice is casual, but his eyes linger on you, sprawled on gojo’s bed with your skirt hiked up just a bit.
gojo laughs, waving him in. “come find ’em, man. and hey, stick around. we were just gettin’ started.” there’s a glint in his eye, mischievous as always, and you feel your heart race. is he serious? kuroo hesitates for a second, but then he’s stepping inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
the air shifts, thick with unspoken tension. gojo pulls you into his lap, nipping at your neck while kuroo pretends to search for his keys on the desk. but you can feel his gaze burning into you, and when gojo notices, he chuckles low. “she’s been eye-fuckin’ you all night, man. don’t think i didn’t notice.”
your cheeks heat up, but kuroo just smirks, leaning against the desk. “that so? didn’t know i was your type, sweetheart.” his voice is teasing, all velvet and promise, and you squirm in gojo’s hold.
gojo’s hands slide up your thighs, spreading them a little. “wanna join? she’s got enough for both of us.” it’s bold, reckless, but that’s gojo for you. and to your surprise - kuroo doesn’t say no. he pushes off the desk, stalking closer, his eyes dark with want.
“only if she wants it,” kuroo says, voice soft but firm, looking right at you. you nod, breath catching, and that’s all it takes.
gojo flips you onto your back on the bed, peeling off your top while kuroo watches, his hand palming himself through his jeans already. “look at her, all needy,” gojo teases, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. your tits spill out, nipples hardening in the cool air, and kuroo groans softly.
“fuck, you’re gorgeous,” kuroo mutters, climbing onto the bed. he leans down, capturing one nipple in his mouth, sucking slow and deep while gojo works on your skirt, yanking it down with your panties in one go. you’re bare now, exposed, and gojo spreads your legs wide, whistling low.
“so wet already. this for me or him?” gojo asks, fingers tracing your slick folds. you whimper, bucking into his touch, kuroo’s tongue flicking your nipple that makes you gasp at the same time.
“s-shut up,” you manage, and they both chuckle.
kuroo kisses his way down your body, nipping at your skin, while gojo sheds his clothes fast, his cock springing free - long and thick, already leaking pre at the fat tip. he strokes himself lazily, watching as kuroo settles between your thighs. “taste her first, man. she’s sweet as hell.”
kuroo doesn’t need telling twice. he spreads your pussy lips with his thumbs, groaning at the sight of your dripping hole. “look at this pretty cunt,” he murmurs, then dives in, tongue flat and broad as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. you cry out, hands fisting the sheets, and he hums against you, the vibration shooting straight to your core, making your legs quiver.
he eats you out like he’s starved, tongue plunging into your hole, lapping up your juices, then circling your clit with precise flicks. spit drips from his mouth, mixing with your wetness, making everything sloppy and messy. gojo watches, pumping his cock, getting turned on at the sight. then he leans over to kiss you, swallowing your moans. his free hand pinches your nipples, twisting just enough to make you arch.
“feels good, huh?” gojo whispers against your lips. “tetsu’s got a talented mouth.”
you nod frantically, hips grinding against kuroo’s face. he sucks your clit hard, two fingers sliding into your soaking cunt easily, curling to hit that spot that makes you see stars. “oh god, kuroo—” you gasp his name, and he growls, fingering you faster while he continues to eat your pussy out.
gojo smirks, moving to kneel by your head. “open up, pretty. suck me while he makes you cum.”
you obey, mouth watering as you take gojo’s cock in, lips stretching around his girth. he’s thick, hitting the back of your throat as he thrusts gently at first, then deeper. saliva pools in your mouth, dripping down his shaft to your chin, and he groans, hand finding your hair. “good girl.. take it all.”
kuroo’s fingers pump in and out of your hole, slick squealchy sounds filling the room, your pussy clenching around him. he adds a third finger, stretching you, and you moan around gojo’s cock, the vibration making him curse. “fuck, she’s tight. gonna feel so good on my dick.”
you cum hard, shaking, juices gushing over kuroo’s hand and mouth. he laps it all up, not stopping until you’re whimpering from overstimulation. then he pulls back, chin glistening, lips swollen. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted.”
they switch places seamlessly. gojo slides down, lining up his cock with your entrance, while kuroo strips, revealing his toned body - abs rippling, cock hard big and veiny, a bit longer than gojo’s but just as thick. he kneels by your face, tapping his tip against your lips. “your turn, sweetheart.”
gojo pushes in slow, inch by inch, your walls fluttering around him. “still so fuckin’ tight,” he grunts, bottoming out with a sigh. he starts thrusting, deep and steady, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. you wail, taking kuroo into your mouth, sucking sloppily, tongue swirling around his head.
kuroo threads his fingers through your hair, guiding you deeper. “that’s it, baby. choke on it.” spit runs down your chin, mixing with tears as gojo fucks you harder, his cock dragging against your g-spot with every snap of his hips.
“fuuuck— look at her, taking us both like a champ,” gojo pants, hand smacking your ass lightly, leaving a red mark. “gonna fill this pretty pussy up.”
kuroo pulls out of your mouth with a pop, stroking himself as he watches. “wanna fuck her too. switch?”
gojo nods, pulling out of your gaping cunt, your pussy clenching around nothing. they manhandle you onto all fours, kuroo behind you now. he rubs his cock through your folds, coating himself in your slick, then pushes in - slow at first, then slamming home. you yelp, the angle hitting deeper, his cock bullying your poor cervix.
gojo positions himself in front, feeding you his dick again. “suck, baby. thereee we go— make me cum down your throat, yeah?”
they find a rhythm, kuroo pounding into you from behind, hands gripping your hips and ass cheeks hard enough to bruise, while gojo fucks your face, balls slapping your chin. the room smelling like sex - sweat and cum and your arousal, gagging sounds echoing along with the slapping of skin and your pussy getting fucked.
“shiiit... her pussy’s sucking me in,” kuroo groans, thumb circling your asshole. “want me to play here too? hm, angel?”
you nod around gojo’s cock, and kuroo spits on your hole, pressing his thumb in slowly. the stretch burns so good, fullness overwhelming. he works it in and out, matching his thrusts, and you feel another orgasm building.
gojo’s close, hips stuttering now. “fucking hell, baby- gonna cum— swallow it all, yeah?” he thrusts deep, spilling down your throat with a hot moan. you gag, swallowing what you can, the rest dripping from your lips. he pulls out, smearing the mess on your cheek. “haahh... messy girl.”
kuroo speeds up, thumb buried in your ass, cock slamming into you, pounding into your sopping pussy like he couldnt get enough. “cum for me, sweetheart. soak my dick... yeah, fuck— good girl...”
you do, screaming as your pussy spasms, squirting a little around his still-pistoning cock, wetting the sheets. kuroo follows immediately, pulling out to cum on your back, hot ropes painting your skin. but they’re not done.
gojo flips you onto your back again, sliding back into your pussy while it’s still pulsing. “my turn to fill you up.” kuroo straddles your chest, cock hard again already, pushing between your tits. “squeeze ’em together, pretty.”
you press your breasts around his shaft, and he thrusts, groaning at the friction. gojo fucks you rough, one hand on your clit, rubbing fast. “gonna breed this cunt,” he growls, and you whine, legs wrapping around him.
kuroo cums first this time, spilling over your tits and neck, marking your skin. then gojo’s next, burying himself balls-deep and pumping you full, cum leaking out around his cock, dripping down your crack. he pulls out slowly, watching it drip, then scoops some up and pushes it back in with his fingers. “keep it in there.”
they collapse beside you, all panting and sweaty. gojo kisses your shoulder, kuroo still out of breath. “that was fun,” gojo says with a grin. “we should do this again.”
kuroo smirks, hand tracing your thigh. “yeah, but next time, i get her first.”
gojo scoffs, reaching to the nightstand to light up a cig. “greedy shit.”
note. pls ignore how obvious it is that i had no idea how to end this bc i was literally in class when i finally decided to write it,, and this didn’t rly come out the way i imagined it either :c it was supposed to be a longer fic, but i js haven’t had much motivation to write lately. i’m so sowwy !!
The only time Higuruma displays a modicum of submissiveness is the moment you finally ride his face, of course.
Eyes lulling to the back of his skull, jawline decorated with a messy lather of your slick that trickles all the way down to the center of his throat, and with the prettiest groans sung out right in between your drooling cunt—of course your boyfriend's gonna find himself submissive when you're sitting so perfectly on top of him.
“Stop, mmgh, pulling away from me,” He’d groan in between the folds of your dripping pussy, drooling extensively off of your tastes as his fingers press deeper into the skin of your hips. “Please,” Higuruma would moan up against you just before he pulls you back down again.
After the last five orgasms he brought you to recently, of course you’re pulling away from him and gasping out his name as if that would keep him from eating you out like a man so utterly starved. You wish you could say you hated it when he got like this.
But the truth was that nothing feels better than your pussy-drunk boyfriend forcing you to drag your cunt all over the length of his face. With his nose practically french kissing your clit, his tongue slithers deeper and deeper every time.
He’d already had you laid out in every position imaginable just before this and now he practically uses you for his own pleasure—despite being the one giving instead of receiving.
“Hiromi, p-please,” You tried to plead back with him, aching for a moment to breathe because the desperate suck you receive in the next second has you tugging away from him all over again.
Not that he lets you go that time either. Instead, he only drags you right back down and damn near glares up at you with those pretty glossed over wide-set eyes of his. “Ride,” He huffs out, “I told you to ride my face, please?” He whines this time.
You only drip into his mouth even more the second that whine of his hits your ears and you watch the way he smiles as if you just praised him for begging. Then his mouth is slobbering all over you again and you’re reaching a hand down to at least hold onto him while you attempt to do as he’s asked you so nicely to.
The first grind of your hips forward makes his eyes roll back and you feel a whorish moan vibrate off of his tongue and right against your pussy. Then he’s fucking his tongue up into you, mumbling, “Mhm, mmhm, don’t stop.”
It’s then that you grow addicted to it, the feeling of him growing more and more encouraged by your movements. Your hips rock faster against him and he lets his hands guide you through it. “Hiromi-, hahh,” You gasp just barely as he shakes his head up into you.
Dark black locks of hair stick to his forehead and although his eyes are directly up on yours, you could tell he was beyond fucked out. He only pulls away to press sloppy kisses onto your pussy as if he worshiped every inch of you.
“S’sweet,” He whispers against you as his eyes soften up on you. Then he’s looking at your cunt and swiping his tongue over his lips before biting back a groan, “And pretty,” Oh, he’s so far gone.
The next thing you know, he’s diving right back into you and you feel his tongue sliding deeper inside you than before.
“Inside and out,” He inherently chokes out as he finally forces you up a little. You thought he was finally giving you a break for a second, pant after pant leaving you while you stare at him.
Instead, to your surprise, Higuruma lets his tongue hang out and bats his lashes up at you almost innocently before uttering, “Play with her.”
You feel your body tense and almost scoff in response, “W-What?”
His thumb moves to meet your clit and he starts spelling out his name, “Like this,” He instructs, “I wanna watch you do it over my tongue, c’mon.”
You nearly shudder at the gentle touch of his thumb but you move to match his movements anyway—thumbing your clit and keeping your cunt sloppily dripping down onto his expecting tongue.
Biting back a smile, Higuruma fights the urge to lean up and latch himself back onto you. Instead, he patiently listens to the soft moans you let out and stares at the gorgeous spread of your pussy as your arousal leaks and so perfectly meets his tongue.
“Thaat’s my girl,” He coos, “So fuckin’... mgh, perfect.” In the midst of his groaned praises, he doesn’t even realize the embarrassing mess he’s making of himself as he cums right then and there. Practically untouched and entirely off of eating you out.
If you’re at someone else’s house, enjoying a party, all you have to do is give him a look that tells him you’re bored or frustrated and need release before you go on a massacre. Lazily, he strolls to the nearest bathroom, unashamed to leave mid conversation or mid sentence. When you finally walk in some time later so as to not rouse suspicion, you find him inside, sitting on the lid of the toilet, jerking himself off so you can quickly slide down on his length and ride him to an easy release.
“Wait,” he mutters after, bringing your hips back to him. He slides his tongue through your puffy slit, scooping up his cum which oozes out of your cunt. “Need to clean you up, silly.”
Free use!Choso loves being used. It gives him purpose. It gets him up in the morning — figuratively and literally. He loves being woken up with your dripping cunt on his face, throbbing clit rubbed on the tip of his nose. Your juices filling his senses, dribbling inside his nose, sliding on his tongue and down his throat, is nothing short of euphoric.
“Mmm,” he moans, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs and fighting the urge to wrap around his cock (you get upset when he hasn’t asked for permission). “Thank you for choosing my face; you know I don’t like it when you deal with it yourself.”
Free use!Choso often actively waits for a sign. Sometimes he forces one himself. At dinner with your friends, he’ll be squirming in his seat, irritated that it’s taking so long and doing very little to hide it. He’ll openly grumble, “Can we go already? Christina won’t shut up about her boyfriend, Owen, and I don’t like either of them.”
“Choso,” you hiss. “Don’t be rude.”
He pushes away from the table and says, “I’ll be waiting in the backseat of the car. Please come soon so I can fuck you.”
Saying goodbye to a dinner you weren’t even enjoying, you come up with some shitty excuse to get out of there and angrily march over to the car. The door is yanked open and you’re about to tear him a new one, but the sight of his cock out, already hard, and leaking makes it hard to stay mad. You sigh, climbing inside. “You need table manners.”
“I’m polite enough when I eat you out,” he says, not remotely argumentative, simply factual.
Free use!Choso also responds to whistles, like a dog. As soon as you walk in, tired from work, you’ll whistle and he’ll appear almost out of thin air, ears perked up and tail wagging. He helps you shrug off your outer layers, sliding your shoes off and using that opportunity to sniff at your crotch.
“Oh I missed you,” he groans, showing you the wet mark on his sweatpants. “I missed you so much. Please use me, not your toys. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. Need your pretty pussy around me or I think I might die.”
Bounce on a cock, save a life, you suppose.
Was feeling a little burnt out so I needed a quick shot of free use choso
mdni- Law professor! Higuruma x law student! reader
Your law professor Hiromi Higuruma is exhausted, he'd asked you to come for a meeting to discuss your upcoming internship with him - you were a top law student, after all, but he had no damn sleep and his coffee is too weak. He's eased back with his dark eyes shut, hands over his face, trying to wake himself up enough to see you.
It's hard to see you too, hard to even look at you, how fucking pretty you are makes his job difficult to say the least. You're a good twelve years younger, not that its' that much of an issue, the problem is you're his student.
He certainly can't cross that line, and he certainly can't jerk off every time he sees your thighs in your little pencil skirts, all professional and smiling as you bring him breakfast, lunch, fuck you're always bending over to give him something - and making him feel like a fucking depraved pervert. He tries not to think of you when he jerks his cock at night, but you flit through his mind.
How he'd fuck you right here on this desk, pump all his cum inside your pretty cunt. How he'd eat your surely cute little cunt, have your squirt all down his dress shirt, his tie, every inch covered in you. Fuck he'd bathe in it if he could.
Even now just thinking of seeing you has his cock throbbing, he's so tired he can't stop it like he usually can, jumping up when you walk in, clearing his throat and quickly sitting up, praying you don't get close enough to see the tent in his slacks. You smile all pretty, today your blouse is unbuttoned too much, hints of your tits peeking out as if to taunt him.
"Mr. Hiromi," you say softly, shutting the door behind you and holding two cups precariously. "I got your favorite espresso."
"Oh fuck I love you," you giggle when he panics, tired eyes lidded as they gaze down at your lips.
How would they wrap his cock?
"I mean..." He starts stammering just a bit, but you smile.
"I will take that," you tease, handing it to him, your fingertips brushing together when he takes it. You feel that heat shoot down into your tummy, a gnawing ache that's just constantly there for your professor -months of having to watch him lecture, watch him in court, your vibrator hates to see you coming after days you join him and watch him argue.
When he gets angry? Fuck.
He seems so calm but it's just brimming underneath the surface, he takes a sip and moans. "God that's good, so much better than the shitty coffee here."
"I figured so," you sip your own drink - much more foamy and sweet, handing him the documents he asked for. "Here you go."
"They can wait," he tosses them to the side now, sighing and leaning back in his chair. "It's the weekend, don't you have some party to go to or something? A date?"
"Nah I was just gonna watch Bridgerton and cuddle on the couch," you sit on his desk, crossing your legs, his gaze darts to them, fingers damn near twitching with how badly he wants to grip them.
"You're twenty three, shouldn't you be having fun?"
"As if you're so old," you tease, uncrossing them and swinging your ankles around just a bit. "But no, not my thing."
"I see," he tilts his head and leans close. "What season are you on?"
"You do not watch it!"
"Who says I don't," you're giggling all cute, ruining his muddled mind even further. "Okay I don't but I have heard of it."
"It's really good! You probably just rewatch Lincoln Lawyer on repeat."
"Tch," you're giggling again and drinking your cup. "You're right."
"Called it!" You hop down and nearly trip, he catches you buy your hips quickly, the coffee precariously falling but you some how catch it with both hands. "Oh I'm so sorry."
He says nothing, not when your tits are right in his face, and he can feel the curve of your waist, he hardly holds back a gutteral moan, not letting go. You set the coffee down with a shaky hand, heart hammering in your chest, stepping between his spread thighs now.
"Are you all right, Sir?"
"Don't fuckin' call me that," he rests his head on your waist now, exhaling and tugging you closer, nuzzling the little buttons of your bodice when your hand brushes back his messy dark locks. "You really should go."
"Oh? Why's that?" he chuckles just a bit, looking up at you underneath those lidded eyes, black from his pupils being blown out.
"If you stay I'll put a fucking baby inside you, how do you think your law career will be then?" You suck in a breath, thighs pressing together, filthy images fill his mind - pumping so many loads of cum in your cunt you can't walk without them dripping down your legs. "Go."
Your answer is to sink to your knees, he barely holds himself back when your fingers undo his zipper. "I don't want a baby yet but you can certainly say you wanna, you can cum inside me."
"God," he's hissing when you pull out his cock, the tip already leaking all that white he wants inside you. He holds your hair in a ponytail when you're flicking your tongue on his tip. "I won't give you special treatment in class, but I will fill you with all the cum you want."
"Mmm," you take him in your mouth now, sucking and watching him with your pretty eyes, he tugs your hair into a better ponytail, watching as you glide your throat down him. You're touching your clit over your panties as he starts to get mean with it, desperately rutting his hips up, hardly able to keep quiet.
"F-fuck, your slutty throat is that good? Sweetheart," he's mumbling now, your drool is spilling down his balls, tight and heavy, your nose brushing that dark pubic hair as you gag and choke on it. "Touching yourself? No."
He yanks your fingers off, you pull back with a wet pop, lips dripping with saliva and pre. "I need to cum, please Sir."
"You're asking for it," he grumbles - every time you call him that more pre spurts from his red, swollen tip, sucking you off your fingers, you gasp at the action, just to get tugged up by your hair to stand. "Turn around and lift your skirt f'me, hmm?"
This isn't meticulous, exhausted law professor Hiromi, this is dominant, commanding Hiromi with his big cock leaking, you eagerly obey and he sighs, sinking to his knees as you tug that skirt over the curve of your ass. He buries his face against your cunt, panties on and all, soaking wet already.
"You're already this wet? From sucking me?" Your answer is a muffled whine, trying not to let the entire college know that Hiromi is about to bury that long nose inside your cunt. "Prop that leg up - atta girl, there you go. Good job."
"F-fuck," you're clinging to his desk when he tugs your panties to the side, tongue lapping a fat stripe from your clit to your ass, slipping down to fuck into your quivering hole.
God you taste good - he can't get enough of it, the slick coating his tongue and lips, dripping down his chin. He parts your swollen folds to look at it winking right at him, cunt just gushing arousal in clear little drips that leak down your thighs. He licks it up greedy as it spills, and you're arching, begging for him.
"Please, inside," you're barely able to form a word when he nudges your twitchy clit with his nose, his papers just fucking scattering as you start clinging to the desk. "Mnh, please!"
"Shh, I'll give it to you," he leans up, turning your face to his - he's a gentleman and he hasn't kissed you yet, that just won't do. "Open."
You eagerly do what he asks, cock slapping against your ass with a loud thwack, your tongue out, he spits your juices right on it, closing your mouth and urging you to swallow, tip nudging that messy cunt, pressing in, she's so wet she's soaking his cock, dripping down onto the polished hardwood underneath.
He sinks his cock deep inside your walls, your head falls back, ragged little breaths escaping as your tongues swirl all messy, one of his hands tugging your thigh up even higher, bottoming out in one stroke. You can hardly take just how girthy his cock is, the tip kissing your cute cervix as he lets you adjust for just a moment.
"Feel better than I even imagined," you blush now - how cute you blush with cock inside you, walls quivering around him, his spit down your throat, when the door knocks and you tense up Hiromi just slams inside you harder.
"Ah!"
"Shh darling," he covers your mouth with his hand, fucking inside of you deeper, the wet squelch just echoing in his office. "Yes?"
"I need to talk about class tomorrow," it's professor Nanami, as soon as he talks your cunt pulses, Hiromi gets unreasonably jealous, his other hand toying with your twitchy clit.
"You're getting that wet from him?" You shake your head, but Nanami talks again and you're soaking his cock as it shoves fully in, balls smacking as he moves, the wet sounds obscene. "I don't share."
"Hiromi?" Nanami asks, his lips are on your ear as he lets your mouth go and you bite on your lip.
"Want him to know you're getting bred by your professor, pretty girl?" You do in fact, filthy thoughts are racing of fucking both your professors, though Hiromi is pounding your cunt so good you don't think you could handle more, his finger roughly pressing patterns on your clit faster. "Go ahead, cum."
"C-can't, psycho," you glare and Hiromi just smirks all tired, wrapping an arm around you to drag your messy hole right down him. "Mnh!"
"Is everything all right in there?"
"It's fine Nanamin, I'm just... wanting a nap, you know? Can I come see you in a f-fuck..." You're clenching too tight, he almost can't take it, cunt milking him for all he's worth. "In a few?"
"Always fucking napping and shit," Nanami sighs and stomps off, just in time for Higuruma's curved cock head to nudge your spot, you spasm and gasp out, barely able to cover your mouth in time, cunt squirting all down your thighs as your orgasm hits.
"Oh fuck, and you're a messy little law student, huh?" He's fucking you harder, pressing your back down so you arch even more, his fingers slipping inside your mouth. "Squirting just for me?"
"Mhm," you're nodding, letting him pin you down, your face next to those law books as he fucks you through it and into another orgasm, Hiromi's pinning your wrists down behind your back, moving harder, until you can't see.
No amount of masturbation prepared him for your needy, messy hole, nor how pliant and eager you are, letting him use your body however he wants. He hovers over you, lips brushing your temple tenderly as he moves his hips so goddamn mean. "I'll w-watch Bridgerton with you if you let me fill your cunt up."
You barely manage a laugh, turning your head as he lifts it by your hair and kisses you. "All seasons?"
"God anything, j-just wanna fill her up so full," you nod and Hiromi busts as if on cue, his messy white ropes all puffy and sticky in your slick walls, he's moaning desperately not even trying to be quiet. "Fuckin' taking all of it, want your cunt bred by me, hmm?"
You didn't think Hiromi would be filthy.
You didn't think he'd spit in your mouth, tell you he was gonna breed you or finger his cum back inside you. And you absolutely didn't think he'd actually come watch Bridgerton with you in your little off campus apartment, but he does. Though you're cockwarming him and he's torturing you, not letting you move.
Maybe Hiromi Higuruma is just a little sadistic.
****
that episode has me unwell
tagging my bbs @cupidstrace @kamiflix @uhnosav hehe
ordered by: @shanksstrawhat
order summary: gojo fluff/smut drabble + cowboy au + dancing + rivals + one bed
warnings: 18+, MDNI, oral (f!receiving), reader and satoru are drunk
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One too many pulls from a shared bottle of whiskey can do crazy things to people. For example, dancing with your rival in your underwear in the dead of night after agreeing to team up to drive out a rival rancher who just moved to town.
Satoru had approached you with that lazy charm of his in full swing, cornering you at the bar until you gave in and agreed to his plan. Of course, that turned into celebratory drinks. You've always been the kind to cash in your good fortune before it's fully yours.
One glass of whiskey turned to two which turned into Satoru buying the whole bottle and dragging you upstairs to share it.
In the hazy state between being tipsy and being drunk, you and Satoru had stripped down to your undergarments to escape the heat of the Texas night. Satoru had grabbed your hand and spun you round and round until you stumbled into his chest.
Somehow, that turned into Satoru burying his head between your legs. Soft, cotton-white strands of hair tickle the insides of your thighs as he kisses his way up them, plush lips dragging up your skin and leaving faint trails of spit.
"Fuck, Toru," you murmur, hips shifting as his warm breath blows over the damp fabric of your panties. His tongue drags a long, slow stripe over your clothed slit, rubbing slow circles over your clit with the tip. Long fingers dig into your thighs when your hips try to buck up against his face.
"Easy…you can be my little cowgirl later. Just relax and let me take care of you, sugar," Satoru croons. He nudges your panties to the side kisses along your outer folds before spitting onto your clit and sucking it into his mouth. Moans escape both of you, though the vibrations of his send shockwaves through your pussy. It's all you can do to grab onto his hair and hold on tight.
The whiskey does nothing to dull the precision of his tongue. Where most men get slow and lazy, Satoru's tongue is quick, and he seems to be intent on making an absolute mess of you. With the way he's moaning into your cunt, he's not far from reaching his goal.
"S'toru." His name slips out of you mouth like a prayer, tumbling past your lips repeatedly. The need in your voice has Satoru doubling down on his ministrations, two fingers slipping past your entrance and crooking up against your g-spot. Stars of pleasure bloom behind your eyes, tummy tightening as he sends you hurtling toward your orgasm.
He finally pulls away and sits on his knees between your thighs, glossy azure eyes blinking down at you. "You can be a sweet thing when you wanna be, can't you?"
"Don't fucking push it," you mumble, dragging a hand over your forehead to wipe the beading sweat off your skin.
"Aww, baby, I think I'll push you however I like."
all written content belongs to @cherrys-wrld. i do not own the original characters or the official art used above. do not feed my work into ai, repost, translate, or copy it.
ᓚᘏ𑄝 riding nanami kento till he’s bowing forward from the overstimulation. 18+
kento’s usually so composed.
even when he’s unraveling beneath you, there’s normally still that last thread of control he clings to — jaw tight, breaths measured, hands steady on your hips like he’s still the one guiding the rhythm.
not tonight.
tonight he’s a wreck.
sweat beads along his hairline, blond strands plastered to his forehead. his chest heaves in uneven, stuttering bursts. every roll of your hips drags a broken sound out of him— not quite a moan, not quite a sob, something caught and raw in between. his cock twitches hard inside you each time you sink back down, and the overstimulation has turned his usually velvet voice into something cracked and pleading.
you slow your pace just a fraction, mostly to catch your breath, but also because the way his entire body jerks makes something worried flicker in your chest.
“kento,” you murmur, palms sliding up to brace on his pecs. “hey. you okay?”
his eyes snap open, pupils blown, lashes wet. he looks almost startled, like he forgot you could speak.
“don’t,” he chokes out immediately. voice hoarse. “don’t stop. please.”
you hesitate. his hands are trembling where they clutch your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, but the rest of him is shaking too. thighs twitching, abs jumping every time your walls flutter around him.
“you’re shaking so much,” you say softly, brushing damp hair off his forehead. “i thought maybe—”
“i know,” he cuts in, desperate. “i know i’m— fuck, i’m a mess. just— please. need you to keep going. need it so bad it hurts.”
the last word cracks.
you watch a tear slip free from the corner of his eye, track its path down his temple into his hair. he doesn’t even try to hide it. too far gone for shame.
your heart twists.
you lean down, kiss the wet streak, taste salt.
then you start moving again but slower this time, deliberate, grinding more than bouncing so every inch of him stays buried deep.
the sound he makes is concerning for the neighbors out. head tipping back, throat exposed, adam’s apple bobbing on a strangled whine. his hips jerk up involuntarily, chasing more even though he’s already so deep it has to be overwhelming.
“too much?” you whisper against his jaw.
“yes,” he gasps. “and not enough. god— don’t you dare stop.”
his arms wrap around your back, crushing you to his chest. you can feel every frantic beat of his heart against your ribs. he’s babbling now half-formed sentences, your name over and over, little broken please-please-pleases every time you lift even slightly.
you pick up the pace just enough.
his whole body locks up.
“fuck— oh fuck— waitwaitwait—”
but he doesn’t actually want you to wait. his heels dig into the mattress, hips snapping up to meet you, sloppy and uncoordinated. tears keep slipping down the sides of his face, catching in the light. he looks ruined. beautiful. yours.
“kento,” you breathe, cupping his face. “come for me. let go, baby. i’ve got you.”
that does it.
his mouth falls open on a silent cry first, then the sound catches up, wrecked and loud and completely undone. he comes so hard his whole body bows off the bed, cock pulsing inside you in long, helpless spurts. you feel it all. the heat, the twitch, the way he keeps bucking even after he’s spent, like his body can’t accept that it’s over.
he’s crying openly now. quiet, hiccuping sobs muffled against your neck as aftershocks roll through him.
you slow to a gentle rock, easing him through it, murmuring soft things against his temple until his grip on you finally loosens.
he doesn’t let go completely though.
just clings. shaky. sweaty. still trembling.
“sorry,” he mumbles eventually, voice thick. “lost it there.”
you kiss the corner of his mouth.
“don’t be. i liked seeing you like that.”
he huffs a watery laugh, embarrassed, but doesn’t argue.
just pulls you closer. buries his face in your shoulder. lets out one last shaky breath.
still inside you, still sensitive and still yours.
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