bunnie piee 🐇

F 19, dark+soft kinks, older men>>>, bi, chubby 💖

[yourduaghter-deactivated2022100]

Imagine you’re my dad and you are getting home late from a long day at work you stopped at the bar before coming home. You had an extremely stressful day, you pull into to the driveway and from your car you can see I’m on the couch. Once you get inside you walk right over to your liquor cabinet and pour your self a glass you walk back into the living room when you find I’m sleeping on the couch. I must have fallen asleep waiting up for you, you think to yourself. You catch yourself staring too long, my leg is half out of the sheets exposing my inner thigh to you in my bed time shorts. My shirts is slightly raised showing my stomach as my chest raises and falls slowly. You sip the liquor in your glass as you continue to rake your eyes over my body. You don’t know if it’s how much you drank tonight, the stress, or the fact that I’m growing into my new body so quickly, but you notice a bit of a problem has began in your lower section. You try to distract yourself by looking out the window at the passing cars, but your attention is grabbed by a soft moan leaving my lips.

You feel your cock twitch to the sound of it. You raise a brow over at me smiling as you take one last swig of the strong liquor and set the glass down. You find yourself willing to do anything to hear that sweet sound come from your baby girl again. You roll up your sleeve and walk over to my sleeping body. You kneel down trying to see how “asleep” I am. You snap your fingers in my face twice but I don’t budge. You find your hand sliding up my thigh, you clearly had too much to drink with the thoughts that are running through your head right now. You hesitate only for a split second raking your eyes up and down me again before placing your hand on my clit rubbing circles over my shorts. My breath hitches to your touch. My legs fall open giving you a better angle as you rub faster on me. Suddenly, your wish comes true when you earn a moan from me. You moan yourself softly biting your lip as you feel your cock twitch again. You undo your pants to relieve some pressure that has built up as you continue rubbing me. All of a sudden my hips jerk towards your hand and another moan escapes, this one even louder than the last. You can feel your cock begging to be touched as it begins to throb.

You pull your cock out and start stroking it as you rub me. You take the tip of your cock and rub it on the part of my mouth where my lips are parted. You moan at the glistening pre cum residue you’ve left on my face. You can feel my wetness starting to spread through the shorts as you continue rubbing me. You want nothing more than to feel them on your skin but as you start to slide your hand under my shorts I turn my head and stretch a bit. That’s when your brain finally catches up with what you’re doing and you look down and shake your head. Asking yourself what you’re even doing, what you were thinking, it’s not right, I could’ve woke up and what would you have done. You turn to walk away when you notice the medicine on the side table. If I had taken my medicine I could sleep through the end of the world and not know. Your eyes darken and jaw clenches. You try to fight the thoughts flooding in but your cock inevitably wins the battle as you turn back around and shove your hand down my shorts into my wetness and slide two fingers inside me.

You rub your cock on my face and over my mouth. I moan out as your cocks on my lips making it fall into my mouth. You open my jaw wider with your hands and start thrusting your hips in time of you fingering me. You feel my hole tighten around your fingers as you leave them inside and wiggle your fingers pushing on that special spot deep inside me. You feel my hips humping your hand as you add your thumb rubbing circles to my clit. You feel me moan deep in my throat vibrating your cock in my mouth as you start thrusting in and out faster. You feel my body tense and shake as a loud moan leaves my lips and juices flood out of my pussy past your fingers indicating you made your sleeping daughter cum. You grunt out with each thrust in my mouth. You pull out stroking your self as you slap your cock on my face a few times. Then pull down my shorts all the way as you drop to your knees. You always wondered what your own daughter tasted like. Although you would never tell another soul, you’ve been sexually aroused by your daughter more and more. You kiss up my thigh and then dive right in starting to lick and nibble me. You moan against my pussy as you taste me for the first time. You feel even more pre cum oozing out of your cock as you slide your tongue inside my pussy. You take your cock in your hand and jerk off to my taste. You lift your head only slightly to find the shorts and wrap them around your cock getting my juices on your cock and stroking your cock with my shorts. You bury your face back into me as you lick up all my wetness and suck on my clit grazing your teeth on it slightly making more liquids ooze out of me. You cum into my shorts while eatting me out but you notice you’re still hard. You notice how swollen the head is, you haven’t been this horny, this hard, this turned on in the longest time. You realize there’s only one thing your cock needs and that’s to be inside the pussy it made.

You climb onto the couch and fold my legs up as you line up pushing yourself all the way inside in one thrust. You quickly move your hips in and out of me. You roll your eyes and moan you’ve never felt anything so tight around you but at the same time so amazing. You look up and the thought that all these cars passing by could look in and see you fucking your sleeping daughter made you even harder, it made you fück into me harder pounding in and out of my tight hole. “Such a fucking whore” you growl out. “You like when dad gets rough with you huh” you grunt. “look at the mess below you” you pull out and flip my lifeless body over holding my head up by my hair as you start pounding into me again. “Look at all those cars passing by watching you get fucking railed by your dad” you move your hips faster. You love the way my comatose body still reacts to you by moving or moaning. My moans get louder and you lift my head higher to see if I’m still asleep. You notice that I am still very much asleep and you push my head down to the couch and lift my hips to you. You rub my ass hole a bit before sliding your thumb into it. “I love how your body is completely mine right now.” You moan out. “I could do what ever I wanted to you. And I bet you’d like it too, you nasty whore.” You begin to growl “Is that what you are huh a little whore for daddy. Dads own personal fuck toy huh that’s what you are” you grunt out over and over to my unconscious body as your thrust into me start to get sloppy. You lift me up by sliding a hand under my chest and cupping my breast to pull me up to your chest. “You’re gonna be my new cum toy okay, I’m gonna cum in you every day until you give daddy a new baby and once we have that baby I’m gonna do it again and again. You’re my cum dumpster darling take it…..take it” you groan as you push me down on you and thrust up trying to get as deep inside me as you can to spread your seed deep in me. You feel yourself cum hard almost blacking out. You pull out a bit and shove your cock even deeper letting more cum out. You pull out and push my body down and hips up snapping your hips against my ass and let the rest of your cum out inside me. You feel your balls draining out deep inside me. You feel all the sperm leaving you and entering my womb. You leave your cock inside me for a while making sure none of your seed escapes. “You have no idea how much dad needed that” you whisper in my ear as you pull out. You leave me there how I am naked blanket on the floor and sperm swimming around inside me.

[funlittlebirdy2]

This is perfection

[masterofreality23]

Goals

[madamechrissy]

Do I wanna know?

Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count

CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble

Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!

You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.

It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.

Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.

When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.

That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.

He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.

He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.

But not just yet.

Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.

Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.

Satoru can do that for you.

“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.

“Why live here?”

You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”

“Don’t you make good money?”

“Um… yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.

“Failed? Didn’t pass?”

“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”

“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.

Satoru can make it happen, surely.

“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.

“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be…” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”

“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”

“What’re you asking, sweets?”

“I…” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.

What’s wrong with you!?

“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.

“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.

“No, um… ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”

Satoru’s jaw sets, and something… changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”

“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”

Oh, he does.

He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.

Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.

“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.

“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.

So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.

Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.

Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.

You: I had fun too… you didn’t have to leave so early.

Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.

Or will be.

Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?

You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.

Satoru: No problem, love.

Love… that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.

Satoru Gojo, who was he really?

*****

“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.

“I’m so sorry… I… My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.

You’re such a good girl.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.

“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I… I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”

“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”

“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”

“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.

“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”

“I have cleaners. Cooking though… yeah, you good at it?”

You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”

“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”

“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh… is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”

“Absolutely.”

You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.

“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.

“I know.”

*****

Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is… difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.

Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”

Fuck.

You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”

“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.

Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.

All you can think of is him.

Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.

He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.

He needs you to really need him.

“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.

He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.

He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”

“Um… y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”

“Mind somewhere?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.

Where are you?

He zooms in on the location.

Someone’s house?

Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s… did I upset you?”

“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”

“I… I don’t know? Um…” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”

“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.

“Good girl? I… don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.

“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.

You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?

“I um… went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.

“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”

“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.

“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.

“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.

“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.

“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.

Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?

Then why is there this gnawing feeling?

*****

The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.

You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”

“It’s an ancient relic?”

“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”

“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”

“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.

“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.

Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.

“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.

“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.

“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.

“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.

“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.

“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.

“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”

“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.

Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.

“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already,  you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.

“Why not date him?”

“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.

“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.

*****

After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.

You’re wondering about lots of things.

“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.

“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”

“You’re so… you?” He snorts then.

“What’s that mean?”

“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”

“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”

Yes, yes it would.

“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.

“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”

“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”

He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”

Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but… I like to…”

“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”

“Yes, I like to. Do you… play with…”

“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”

You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.

He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.

But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however… you’re texting him back!?

That just won’t do.

He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.

Maybe a date with someone?

******

You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.

He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.

He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”

How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.

“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with… friends?”

You know he knows.

You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”

Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”

“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”

“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll… think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”

“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.

“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”

“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.

“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”

“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”

“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”

“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.

You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.

“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.

“Of course, Satoru.”

“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”

He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.

You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.

The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.

Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?

Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.

Having fun on your date?

Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.

Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.

Satoru panics now.

What’s wrong?

He watches as you type.

I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this…

Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”

“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?

“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”

“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”

“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”

He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”

Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”

“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”

“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”

Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.

His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”

“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.

“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”

“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.

“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”

“Just touch me, please…” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru…”

“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”

The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.

“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.

“N-no but… please…” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”

“My what!?”

“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.

“Where are we going?”

“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”

“Slutty?”

“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Fuck…” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.

“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”

“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.

“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.

“F-fuck… you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”

He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.

“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.

“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.

“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”

Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.

He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”

You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.

“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”

You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.

“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”

“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long  tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.

Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.

He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.

“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..

“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.

“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”

Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”

You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.

“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.

“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.

You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.

“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”

“You, jus’ you… Toru…” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.

“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”

“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.

“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.

“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.

“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”

“You wouldn’t come to me.”

Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.

“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”

Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a-  “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.

“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”

“Ngh…” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.

“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”

You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.

“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”

“Satoru… jus’ you… s’good I…” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.

“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”

“S’all you…” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.

“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”

You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.

“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”

Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.

“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.

“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.

“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”

He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”

“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”

“P-please… please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.

“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”

After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more…

You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.

But you feel deliciously fucked out.

You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?

“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.

“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.

“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.” 

“That sounds so…”

“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy…’

“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”

“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh…”

“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”

You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”

“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.

“Satoru…”

“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”

“Satoru!”

“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”

“I… you…”

“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”

“Y-yes… I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru…”

“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”

You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.

He’s got you right where he wants.

And you both know you’re never leaving.

Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)

Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru  @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut

[madamechrissy]

Boss Gojo x reader - mdni

"You'll belong to me, for the entire month," your boss Satoru Gojo murmurs, leaning down and tilting your chin up, those azure eyes darkening as you look up at him. "And I'll take care of your debts, plus I'll give you an extra fifty thousand for yourself. Sound good, sweetheart?"

You don't understand, why would someone that looks like Satoru Gojo need to 'buy someone' for the month? What kind of insane kinky shit is this man into? "Just.... stay with you all month in your mansion and get all those medical bills covered? That seems too good to be true."

"You'll have to do anything I want," he walks around you then, his dress shoes clicking along the hardwood floor. His long fingers dance along your neck, lifting your hair off your back and leaning down, lips against your ear. "That's the agreement."

He's gotta be into some freaky ass fifty shades shit.

Maybe worse!?

"You'll enjoy it all, being at my mercy," he chuckles, the sound deep and warm, making your thighs press together. He seems to notice though, walking back around until he's between your thighs, you lean back in your chair, biting back a gasp. "Do you agree?"

You're gonna regret this, huh?

"Yes," you say softly, Satoru's thumb brushes your lower lip, exhaling and grinning all cute, like he's a sweet boy and not some sadistic freak. "I agree."

When your wrists are bound, tight ropes knotted and pressing in, and he has you bent over his bed that night, you wonder what you got yourself into - promising him anything he wants. The first smack of his palm on your bare ass made you wetter than you thought, so wet his cock could easily slip in.

"Look at you, takin' it so well," he praises softly, before smacking you again, groaning and spreading your ass cheeks, watching the slick pool down your puffy lips. "Perfect, hah I knew you would be."

Your cunt is abused from his hands and his leather belt smacking you over it until you're trembling, arching for more even when tears sting the back of your eyes. Especially when he's jerking ropes of cum all over the curve of your back, decorating your skin with white, you want him to slide his cock in, biting back a plea.

He licks every bit of that network of milky cum up with a long pink tongue, not even fingering you, not fucking you, no he just licks his own cum from your pretty body and moans as he does. Littering you with marks from his mouth, from his teeth, sucking every drop up like it's the most delicious thing he's ever drank.

He's chuckling when your ass - covered in whelps and raised hand prints - jerks just a bit, wrists pinned behind your back. He leans over you, heavy body weighing you down, your clit throbbing with need from just hearing his breathy pants, from feeling his tongue everywhere.

"Open," you gasp and he pours his come in your open mouth with a filthy trail of spit, grinning with saliva coating his lips. "Thatta girl, swallowing my cum like a good little slut, hmm?"

You half expect him to have you suck him, to fuck you - fuck you almost want to, but he simply unties you, rubbing your wrists gently. Fingertips gently drag up through your your drippy, swollen folds for just a moment, humming as if pleased.

"Let's cuddle," you blink in confusion, his cum still coating your tastebuds, letting him clean you up before tugging you close, your body aching from the lashings he dealt you, walls pulsing around nothing. "Tomorrow we'll start actually doing what I want."

You gasp. "Then what was that!?"

Satoru chuckles, tugging your naked body against him and sighing, wrapping an arm around your waist. "That was nothing, sweetheart, now you promised me anything. So that means I get to snuggle."

Who the fuck was this man?

this is for @vivicaaas2 she's like my muse, you should thank her for Dopamine too <3 now i wanna write this hehe

[madamechrissy]

you belong with me

You were friends with him from birth - the boy across the street, Satoru Gojo. However, you lose touch in college, but finally you're going to the same school! You have a love letter written, but you find Satoru - the football captain - is dating the top cheerleader. And she hates you. You're the girl who doesn't really get noticed, the girl in the bleachers playing the clarinet, watching Satoru score a touchdown and kiss his girlfriend. It hurts, but you try to stay uninvolved, but you're watching the boy you knew hurt. Can the two of you have a friendship anymore, and does he feel the same way as you?

pairings - football star! gojo x band geek! reader

warnings - light angst, college au, mutual pining, lost friendship, friends to lovers, Satoru's dating a bitch named Sarah, she gaslights our pookie </3 mentions of manipulation, popularity issues, reader is a lil band geek (I gave her glasses sry if that's not immersive but some of us are blind lmao) eventual smut, sexual tension.

This is absolutely based on the T Swift song <3 Part of @indiewritesxoxo series event! there will likely be four parts of this ;)

art by @/Jan on X!

part one

You've been in love with your neighbor Satoru Gojo for as long as you can remember.

You've also been his best friend even longer - there are photos of Gojo kissing your cheek at three years old in an album your mom has somewhere. You both practically grew up together, and shared everything - whether it was his most precious Digimon cards, or the cutest Pokemon figures you could find.

Endless movies on the weekends, mall trips in high school, hitting the comic cons as you grew on to college, and that's when you both really drifted apart a bit.

College.

Satoru went to the dorms at a University where you stayed home with your family doing community, but every holiday he would come back, and the two of you caught up on old times.

Now you finally got into the same university, so you were excited to spend more time with your best friend.

Yes, you love him, and no doesn’t know. His friendship was just too important to you, the one that survived every breakup he had, and the one you had too, every tragedy and loss, he was there.

Yet it all changed, when you realized Satoru Gojo wasn't really the sweet nerdy boy you grew up with, no he was a football captain, and he happened to be dating the head of the cheerleading team. Your first meeting with her was... interesting to say the least.

"Hey sweet- I mean hey," Gojo corrected himself, earning a glare from the pretty brunette on his arm, smiling abashedly at you now. "This is my best friend since like birth."

"Oh, I've heard about you," she said, holding a hand out with a nasty little sneer. "I see you’re in marching band, so cute, you and your little flute, hmm?"

You blink a bit, almost stepping back like you were smacked, standing in the field surrounded by everyone practicing for the game tonight. You look at Satoru who is frowning just a bit, the light hitting his pretty blue eyes and reflecting, you get lost in them for a moment, before taking her hand.

“It’s a clarinet.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” she's snickering.

Her nails are elegantly done, yours are fucked up and chewed from nerves. She has pretty rings on all her fingers, really all of her is gorgeous, including her form in the little cheer outfit that showcases it all. It's no wonder he'd find her beautiful, she is.

Yet something about her...

"Aren't you going to say hi back?" She snaps, you blink a bit, and Satoru clears his throat.

"She's shy," he says, smiling affectionately at you and patting your head, like you're a little puppy. "How have you been? I miss you."

"I miss you too, um..." you hold your clarinet with both hands, nervously pressing on the little silver buttons. "I'm sorry, my head is in outer space. It's lovely to meet you too."

She smiles, this cold one that doesn't quite meet her eyes, before clinging to Satoru tightly, kissing his cheek, he wraps an arm around her, and the sight of his big hand on her waist almost makes you sick. Why?

You've seen Gojo with several girls over the years, he was very popular once he got to about junior year of high school, but you stayed very much the 'nerd' friend. That was okay though, with Gojo you just could be her, you could be the girl playing clarinet versions of pokemon songs as he played his guitar terribly, until you both made such a ruckus your parents yelled at you all.

He was just a little different with her, you see his tense smile as she trails her hand up his jersey right in front of you, showcasing a hint of sculpted abdominals that makes your heart race. You avert your eyes, but Gojo grips her wrist, pausing her touches quickly.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly in her ear. “Not here.”

“Why?” She giggles, usually Gojo enjoys her touches of course, but it’s just rude to do it especially in front of a friend he hasn’t gotten to hardly see in months.

God you look cute too, in this little blue band uniform and an insanely tall black hat that clips around your chin. You have a new pair of glasses he notices, you’re about as blind as he is, though Gojo wears contacts due to the football playing, he still has his own glasses at night. They’re a cute blue, bringing out all the shades in your eyes.

Your cast down eyes, currently. He suddenly feels a longing to know how you’ve been, he’s been shit at keeping up with you back home. Studies, football, friends and endless frat events, it all has been too much, sometimes he barely gets time to do the little things you and him used to do, to enjoy his time.

Her touch hits again, so he firmly removes her hand, kissing it and smiling. She was clingy as fuck lately, but if he didn’t give her attention she just tended to be so spiteful and mean, he tried to keep up with it.

“You’re so cute,” she giggles now to him. “You all knew each other for years?”

“Mhm,” you say softly, eyeing their hands now, averting your gaze again. “Since we were in pull ups.”

“You remember that picture where you’re wearing pull ups on your head?”

“Hah, that was you!”

“Nope,” Gojo is grinning and so are you, his girlfriend tugs away, glaring right in your direction, making you freeze up.

“You two are awfully close,” she says now, scoffing as she studies you up and down. “What could you have in common?”

“Um…” You aren’t used to this, someone scrutinizing you – you are socially awkward at times, but your friend group is diverse. “We have a lot in common.”

“In what world?”

“Sarah,” Gojo says softly. “You’re not being very friendly.”

“Well you don’t need to hang out with girls at all,” Gojo blinks a bit, white brows drawing in confusion. “I’m sorry, but you don’t.”

“You have plenty of male friends.”

“Not ones who eye fuck me.”

You gasp, blinking back tears and stepping back then. “Seriously!?”

“Well she is,” you feel tears slip down your cheeks now, and she laughs just a bit. “Aw, are you crying?”

“You’re just very rude,” you manage to say then, sniffling a bit. “I don’t even know what ‘eye fuck’ means, but I wouldn’t disrespect a relationship. I need to finish practicing, good to see you Gojo.”

You run off and Sarah is all over him again, arms wrapped on his neck – what was once attractive feels suffocating, he glares down at her. “The fuck is that, aren’t you miss popularity? I’ve never seen you be mean to a girl.”

“She clearly has it bad for you, and I don’t like competition,” she says with a shrug, but then pouts. “Are you mad at me, Satoru?”

“I’m irritated,” her eyes fill with tears then. “You should just trust me.”

“I do! I don’t trust her, she just looks at you like… like she’s in love,” he sighs, shaking his head. “She does.”

“She’s important to me, I want you to get along with her, okay?”

Sarah glares a bit then, trailing her fingers down Satoru’s chest. “Oh? I should get along with her?”

“It means a lot, she’s very close to me,” he eyes you then and wants to disentangle himself, to hug you. It’s been months and he was so excited for you to join his school, only for your first impression to be terrible.

But Sarah is his girlfriend and it’s been a year together. He usually thought she hung the fucking stars in the sky, he’s never seen a side of her like this.

“I can’t help but be jealous, baby,” she says, lips against his ear. “How can I not be, when I have the hottest guy in school?”

“Uh huh,” her teeth nip his ear as you catch his gaze, eyes unreadable, quickly focusing on setting up your music book and stand. It topples over and crashes, a couple people help you, but Sarah laughs.

“She’s a clumsy thing, huh?”

You are, but it’s cute. The amount of times he’d cleaned up your cuts and helped your bruises was hard to count, but you just were that way – uncoordinated, where Satoru was the picture of coordination. It always balanced itself out, he’d catch you before you’d just careen over something, and you were a little better at school, you’d always helped him study.

A big reason he got university was his family of course, but also the grades you helped him get. You not being able to go immediately had hurt him, he can’t think of all the nights he missed you – he’d spend time away from the frat parties just to text you in his room, smiling.

If Gojo admits it to himself, he used to have a terrible crush on you, so bad in fact it was hard to even date other girls, without comparing it to his best friend. But he never wanted to ruin what both of you had, so he never acted on it. He still can feel it, the way his heart raced when he saw you again, how happy he fucking was, but that made him feel terrible.

He was dating Sarah after all.

A fact he was happy about until she was not nice to you.

“I didn’t tell you, I started taking the pill,” Satoru blushes at her bold comment in the middle of a fucking full field.

“Okay… um…”

“We could not use protection tonight, there’s an after party,” she giggles again, and he pulls back. “You’re blushing!”

“You’re talking about that right here? We can talk about that later, okay?” He tilts her chin up now. “After party, huh? You really wanna go, I was hoping to catch that movie before it’s over.”

“The Digimon movie? Gojo, you can’t be serious.”

You overhear a bit of their conversation as you’re cleaning your instrument, preparing the reed, your friend Shoko is setting up her sax, smiling at you. “Baby, you good?”

“I think so,” you murmur, looking back where Gojo is. “Do you know his girlfriend well?”

“She’s a bitch,” Utahime snorts in laughter right next to her. “She is!”

“You’re savage,” Utahime says, prepping her instrument as Nanami looks at them with a raised brow. “Do you like Sarah, Nanami?”

“No, but bitch is rather… crude,” he mumbles, smiling at you then. “How have you been? We missed you.”

“I’m doing really good, I’m so excited to be back with you guys,” he ruffles your hair like Gojo did, it’s how they treat you, like the cute little best friend. “Nanami, you're playing drums now?”

“Mhm, I still play the sax a bit though.”

“He taught me a lot,” Shoko blows into it a bit, and you swoon.

“Oh that’s sexy!”

They all laugh a bit, and Gojo hears it, looking longingly at his group of friends that everyone considers ‘band geeks’ and of course Shoko and Hime are very ‘theater kid’ as well. Gojo at times doesn’t feel like he fits into the ‘jock/frat’ thing aside from his friend Geto on the team with him. He loves sports but of course his parents really were the reason he got into it.

They’re at every game, so excited, he can’t break their hearts and not do it, plus Gojo really does enjoy football, and the thrill of being the best at it.

Yet part of him wishes he was over there at that moment.

“Please come to the party? We’ll even invite your little friend!” Gojo frowns a bit at that. “I’ll apologize, okay?”

“Please,” she kisses his lips, pressing her breasts against his chest. “Mmm… I like that perfume.”

“I bought it for you,” she giggles and then bounces off. “Let me make it right!”

Geto comes up to Gojo then, tossing him a foot ball, Gojo catches it with one hand, letting it fly back – the bright lights kick on as the dusk sets, tonight is the big game and they’re all trying to get a little practice in. “You see she’s here, right?”

“She is,” Gojo smiles. “I missed her.”

“Me too,” Geto tosses it back in the air with a whirl, Gojo catches it despite looking at you again. “So… I think I might ask her out.”

“Huh!?” Gojo misses the next catch, landing right in his face. “Shit!”

“That was an easy toss, you good?” Suguru runs over, Gojo winces and touches his nose. “Distracted much?”

“I guess,” his heart hammers in his chest, at the thought of anyone really with you but especially his other best friend. “What do you mean, ask her out?”

“I have always liked her,” Geto admits, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling at you, earning a cute wave of your fingers and a smile. “I never asked her back in the day because I was so convinced you were in love with her.”

“I… huh!? You… I…” Satoru can’t say a word then, just focusing on you, trying to hear what Sarah is saying.

“So I’m sorry I came off so rude, I just love Satoru so much,” she says, you  look down. “I didn’t realize you’re just his friend. Like a sister to him and all!”

Kill me now.

It’s all you can think as she talks, and your friends around you tense. “It’s so obvious now he doesn’t like you that way, I was just being silly.”

“Uh huh,” you bite down on your lower lip, looking back at the pretty girl who’s bent down, hands on her thighs, eyeing Nanami.

“Hey there Ken.”

“It’s not Ken,” he mumbles, she just giggles, flirtatious as fuck, surprising you considering she has fucking Gojo. 

“Why’d you quit football, hmm?”

“Interfered with my studies more than band,” he ignores her now, you can’t help but smile as she glares at him. “Don’t you have cheer to do?”

“Well I am the captain, so I decide when we do anything,” she giggles again. “Two captains together, isn’t it romantic?”

“Like a shitty 2000’s romcom,” Shoko chimes in, Sarah glares, but Shoko just smiles at her. “What are you doing over at the ‘band geeks’ as you call us?”

“You’re nasty as always,” she crosses her arms, stepping too close to you as you sit on the bleachers. “Anyway, I want you to come to the party tonight, as a show of my amazing good will and all.”

Everyone snorts in laughter.

“Um, nothing to apologize for,” you say softly, eyeing Gojo, who has his gaze affixed on you both. Surely he’s just looking at Sarah, and you’re being foolish. You have to get along with her, if she’s important to Gojo, you can’t let dumb feelings make you act up. “I’ll be glad to go tonight.”

“Yay!” She claps her hands, grinning all pretty. “Oh I’m so excited to get to know you, girl to girl. You can spill details about young Satoru hehe.”

You smile, attempting to be friendly, but something about her gives you a terrible feeling. You hope it’s not just your jealousy. “I’ll see you there, then.”

“Perfect, bye losers, by Ken.”

“Not fucking Ken,” he glares as she blows him a kiss, running off, Shoko rolls her eyes.

“That’s Satoru’s girlfriend, huh?” You ask softly, they all sigh and nod. “It just seems nothing like him?”

“He’s changed,” Shoko says. “Not inside – he’s still a nerdy little shit, but outwardly he’s… just different.”

“I see,” you murmur, watching as he talks with Geto, but Sarah throws herself into his arms, legs literally wrapping his hips. He almost stumbles back, catching her with his long fingers pressing into toned thighs. “They’re very um…”

“Gross?”

“Affectionate,” Nanami snorts a bit. “They seem cute together.”

“Uh huh.” Clearly, Sarah is not popular with them, but you see Geto run up then, looking handsome in his uniform, you stand and he hugs you tightly.

“Suguru!”

“It’s been forever,” his amethyst eyes light up a bit as he smiles at you. “How have you been? You look great.”

“Oh! You’re so sweet,” you flush, wondering how Gojo thought you did look, he didn’t say of course. But with a girl like Sarah all over him, you’re sure he doesn’t see you as anything but a ‘sister. It stung, but she was right. “You look great too. I can’t believe you and Satoru are football stars.”

“He’s definitely more the star, but I can’t wait to see you perform.”

“Aww!” You grin all pretty at him now, pushing up your glasses a bit. “I am excited to see you both play.”

“Are you going to the party?”

“I am, I’ve never even been to one so I’m nervous. Will you be there?”

“Mhm,” he kisses your cheek, it warms underneath his lips, making your tummy fill with butterflies for a moment. “All right, see you there then.”

It’s quiet, but Shoko is smoking a ciggy, ignoring the band directors scowl at her. “He likes you.”

“Me!? No way…” Geto waves as if on cue, Gojo is trying to disentangle Sarah off of him. “He’s single?”

“He is,” Utahime chimes in. “And he does totally like you. Honestly, I thought Gojo did forever.”

“No, we’re just friends…” You feel it then, blue eyes taking you in from across the field, you tremble a bit when your eyes lock, and he gives you a small smile.

Just friends, that’s all you two were.

It was a dumb thought that you’d magically come see him and you’d both fall for each other, as if he’d see that you were the girl for him, the one who has always been there. Yet now you see he’s moved on so much, you’re not sure how you and Gojo can even be friends like you were ever again, let alone the entire love confession you’ve written fifteen different times that’s sitting in your bag.

Of course he has a life, you didn’t even know about his girlfriend probably because you don’t do social media, considering you catch her taking a selfie with him and throwing the peace sign while she kisses his cheek. A little spark of envy hits, but you shove it down.

You have to be happy for him.

****

The game went amazing, of course Gojo got the last minute touchdown and everyone is cheering his name when he steps into the frat party, they’re all chugging beers and jumping up and down, dancing in a sea of bodies underneath flashing lights. At first this sort of thing overwhelmed Satoru but he eventually got used to it, though there were moments he’d just dip out and seek quiet.

Sarah is every bit the life of the party, everyone – aside from his friends – loves her, she lights up the room when she spins in, cheering for Gojo. “Look at my man, of course he won!”

“Gojo, Gojo, Gojo!”

He smiles but a bit of the attention gets to him, he can’t help but search for you in the crowd, curious if you came, his heart hammering when he sees you alone by the kitchen, sipping on a drink. You’re just wearing a little shirt and jeans but you’re so fucking cute, just the way the jeans hug your body makes him realize you’ve really changed since you were younger.

He shouldn’t be just staring at you, he looks up and smiles, waving then, earning your little wave back, and Sarah’s scowl.

“Satoru baby,” she leans up and kisses him, earning the oohs and ahhs of the entire party. “Don’t make me jealous.”

“I was saying hi,” she pouts now. “I thought you were gonna try to get to know her?”

“Well of course I am, she’s so… quaint.” She snickers and so do her little group of friends. “Isn’t she cute wearing… are those sneakers? Aww!”

“She’s precious,” her friend agrees. “We should all say hi.”

“Yeah no, she’s too shy to talk to that many people,” he says, earning a look from his girlfriend again. “Seriously, be nice to her.”

“You’re very protective, it’s all cute – like a big brother.” Sarah kisses his cheek, her hand slipping under his shirt, touching his back. “You’re gonna be the cutest dad, aren’t you?”

“Dad?” Her friends giggle more.

“She’s gonna make you a daddy.”

“Don’t call him that, bitch,” she shoves one of her friends as Satoru just frowns, eyeing you again, wanting to talk to you so badly. “Come on, let’s take shots!”

“I’ll be a minute,” he murmurs. “You all go ahead.”

Sarah and them run off, and he finally makes his way over to you, standing over in a corner nervously looking around, but your face lights up so pretty when you see him, so pretty his heart stops for a moment. Were you always this gorgeous, this effortlessly pretty?

Of course you were, but maybe he didn’t always notice.

“Satoru!” You hug him then pause. “Shit sorry…”

“No, please it’s okay,” he hugs you back against him, but you feel eyes all over you, especially his girlfriend and her group, even though the hug is friendly you feel too much pressed against him. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“You shouldn’t call me that,” you murmur, pulling back and looking at him. “She’ll get mad.”

“That’s what I always called you,” he sighs then, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry I’ve lost touch, I meant so many times to call you.”

“You’re just really busy, it’s okay,” you realize how close you are, you can inhale that familiar scent of him, the cologne filling your senses. It felt too good, that brief moment in his arms. “You’re so good at football, it was insane to see. I’m so proud of you.”

He pauses.

Fuck that feels good.

People expect him to be good at everything, but here you are, little tendrils falling out of your pony tail that he aches to curl around his fingers, your eyes lighting up behind those lenses. You always were proud of him though, whether it was him getting an A or him horribly playing guitar.

Perhaps you were his original cheerleader.

“I bet you killed the clarinet too,” he says, smiling down at you. “I know you always did so well in high school.”

“Thanks, I um… I missed you…” You trail off, sipping the rest of your drink, wincing a bit.

“Strong huh? Want anymore?”

“Yes please,” he takes your cup and you follow him over, the music blaring and pulsing through your body, a little lightheaded from the alcohol. “Anything yummier?”

“I’ll make you something sweet,” he smiles, inclining his head for you to follow him, he leans down and snatches up bottles then. “I remember you like cherry.”

“I do! Do I get a special drink?” He winks, far too charming then, mixing you up something in your red solo cup, slipping into the fridge to grab some cherries.

“I hate that jungle juice shit as much as anyone, I never drink it,” his fingers brush yours when he hands you the cup, making you both pause for a moment. He clears his throat then, rubbing the back of his neck. “Try it.”

“Okay,” you let the sweetness hit your tongue, just a hint of warmth from the alcohol he’d put in. “Oh, it’s yummy!”

You pull back and have a little drop of cherry red on your lips, he swipes it off with his thumb before thinking, making sure it doesn’t stain that white tee shirt. But the moment he does, you both falter, the soft touch of calloused fingers on soft skin – you step a little closer, and so does he, like something magnetic drawing you both.

“It was gonna spill,” he murmurs softly, your nipples press up underneath your shirt, he struggles not to notice, not to slip his finger into your mouth and watch you suck it. “You still wear the same gloss.”

“Y-yeah,” he swipes your lips with his thumb, making your heart pound in your chest, warmth spreading all over, before someone stumbles in, and he quickly drops it, gulping his drink down.

What the fuck was that feeling?

You’d hugged Gojo a million times, and of course as you got older you felt those butterflies, you felt this longing when he kissed your cheek for more, yet nothing compared to that moment in the kitchen. Like all that noise faded, and it was just you and Satoru.

Versions of you that existed long ago.

“I am sorry she was rude,” he says softly, you shake your head. “She was, and I won’t have anyone being rude to you, even my own girlfriend. Okay?”

“It’s not your fault,” you look down at the liquid in your cup, avoiding those pretty baby blues, lest you get lost in them. “She’s beautiful.”

So are you.

He almost says it, but hates himself for the thought, feeling horribly unloyal, he didn’t realize the moment he laid eyes on you again it would all come flooding back. But even worse than before.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t know what to say then, awkwardly standing next to the girl he’d shared his life with. “You look… you’re… um you…”

“I… what?”

“You’re very… since you…” What the fuck is wrong, why can’t he just say that you look good? It wouldn’t even be wrong to say, it’d be too little really, you’re always so fucking pretty since he could remember. Your pretty smile and your little head tilt, but now with you biting on that lip?

He shouldn’t say it then because it’s not good enough.

He can’t think all this shit, no wonder Sarah is mad. Maybe she knows just looking at him the feelings he had.

“You’re very… I…” He can’t say shit then, stuttering when he sees Sarah dancing, and giggling around with one of the men on the team. He pauses then, frowning.

“I’m what?” Your words aren’t heard then, Gojo excuses himself, leaving you to turn and look curiously.

“The fuck are you dancing with him for?”

“Well you seemed occupied,” she says, smiling all mean. “I figured I’d have some fun too.”

“I was talking.”

“You were staring, not paying attention to me,” he scoffs and walks off then, making her run after him. “Satoru!”

“She’s a bitch,” you hear Suguru’s voice then, you turn and laugh a bit. “Sorry, that's a derogatory term. She’s an evil bitch.”

“Much better I guess,” you giggle, and Suguru holds out his hand then.

“Wanna dance?”

“Satoru, come back!” Sarah’s chasing Satoru out front, she always plays this sort of game with him, upsetting him by flirting, and then making it up. “Seriously, I was just upset, okay?”

“You always do this shit,” she turns him and tugs him down for a kiss, but he pauses, pulling back. “Seriously, it’s fucked. I was catching up with a friend of twenty years and you’re grinding on someone?”

“I just got so jealous! You look at her like… you don’t look at me that way!” He scoffs, shaking his head, making her yank him down again. “Satoru, can you blame me? I love you so much, I just get so angry when you ignore me. And then it makes me act that way.”

“You’re blaming me?”

“No, I just want you to understand,” she slips her hands up his chest, tears filling her eyes. “I love you so much, and I want you to love me the same.”

“I do love you, but you hurt me like this all the time? The fuck, it needs to stop okay?”

“It will, I promise,” she blinks back tears, making him feel terrible then. “You just make me act so crazy, that’s all. I can’t help it!”

He sighs, she’s kissing him, over and over.

“Please forgive me baby, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Right,” he usually falls at this point – it’s a cycle. Sarah does something fucked up, makes him feel responsible, then bad, then he’s trying to make her feel better. Although Suguru has tried to warn him, it still has its effect. “Sarah don’t cry, I was just upset, yeah?”

“Oh thank goodness,” she’s smiling now, all brightly like she’s happy as fuck again. “Let’s dance together, okay! Just us.”

“I…”

She’s dragging him in, but he comes to see you in Suguru’s arms, awkwardly attempting a dance, you’re fucking adorable as you try. Suguru’s guiding you a bit, his hand on your waist, but you hopelessly have no rhythm. He’s not sure what it is, but the sight of his friend’s hand on you, and the way you smile at him? Something bites him about that.

But it can’t.

Sarah’s all over him, making a spectacle as she does, and you just give him a sad little smile across the smoky, crowded room, one he returns, before she can catch him and lose her shit again.

“She seems mean to him,” you say to Suguru softly, blushing a bit when your ass brushes against his thighs, and he wraps an arm around your waist.

“Yeah, she’s fucking horrible,” he murmurs, arm wrapping you tighter. “It’s not just you she’s mean to. But especially him.”

“So why does he stay with her? When she acts like that?” Suguru sighs, you turn a bit in his arms, facing him now.

“I don’t know, he could have whoever he wants,” he frowns and shakes his head a bit. “He’s changed a lot this year being with her, it’s like he doesn’t smile the same way anymore. It’s fucked up, but what can you do, telling him to leave her just makes him more defensive.”

“I see,” you turn your gaze off Gojo now. “He does seem different. Is he still… is he still our Gojo?”

“He is, somewhere in there,” he muses softly, dipping you and making you giggle. “Look, you do have some rhythm.”

“Barely any!”

You have fun that night in Suguru’s arms, laughing and losing yourself, trying to ignore how badly you wish you could hug Satoru, seeing him so miserable with her.

But it wasn’t your place.

“Oh my god, good night girl!” Sarah waves as you and Suguru head out the door, coming to you and kissing your cheek.

“Oh, good night Sarah.”

“Stay the fuck away from him,” she whispers so quietly, you still, frowning as she pulls back with a grin. “Gojo loved seeing you!”

“Uh huh,” Satoru walks up and hugs you then, tugging you a little close, his entire demeanor just down, it breaks your heart. “Toru…”

He almost breaks down in that moment, just burying his face in your neck, inhaling that scent so soft and sweet, memories flooding his mind, a thousand things blurring at once. He hugs you a little too long, like you’re the only comfort there is, before pulling back, looking at Suguru who has his hand on the small of your back.

Why does he hate that so much?

Why wouldn’t he want his two best friends to get together? Not like there was anyone good enough for you other than Suguru really.

“Let’s all like do a double date,” Sarah chimes in, you tense, Satoru sees it clear as day. “It could let you two catch up! I mean you’re almost siblings, right?”

You look down, Sarah’s clinging to Gojo again.

“I’m down for a date,” Suguru says, you smile thankfully at him. “Are you?”

“Yeah, that may be fun,” what a lie. Sarah is fucking terrible and seeing your best friend Satoru like this hurts. But you do want to be near him. “Let’s plan something.”

When Suguru takes you home, you can’t help but enjoy the warmth of his hand on your thigh, and the sweet kiss he plants on your cheek. You also can’t help but think of that look on Satoru’s face when Sarah danced with someone like that, and the expression when he came back in.

You look at the love note you wrote him, tears falling and blurring the ink.

Toru,

I’ve waited my whole life to tell you three simple words, ones that just never came out right, and now I worry it’s too late. We’ve drifted apart so much, but I want you to know that I…

I love you.

Those are the words, the brutal ones stuck in my heart, the ones I’ve said as a friend so many times, we both said it, right? ‘I love you’ before we went to bed, staring at each other through our windows and laughing. Little kisses and hugs good night after studying together, hugging you tightly during a scary movie.

None of those felt like ‘friendship’ to me, and I wonder if you feel the same, or if I’m fucking it all up. I don’t know if I’m making any sense, because when it comes to my feelings for you, it’s like it all gets thrown out of the window. Words don’t form correctly, not when I can’t stop rambling about the million things that make you so special.

It’s everything about you.

I miss you, I miss us, and I love you. I love all of you, Satoru Gojo, and if this ruins it all I’m sorry, but I can’t go another day without you knowing.

You fold it back up, tossing it on the desk of your dorm, the brand new one you’re not used to, you miss home, you miss Gojo, you miss everything how it was.

You miss dreaming that there was a world he could be yours.

Satoru that night keeps thinking of calling you, texting you, apologizing for barely spending time the first time he sees you in months, but he doesn’t get much time. Sarah is all over him in every sense of the word, from sucking his cock like she has no gag reflex, to riding him, to whispering all sorts of things in his ear.

Something doesn’t feel exciting about it tonight, and he descends further into a guilt that he’s not even really present during sex. She seems to still enjoy it, Satoru’s not going to have her not get off, it’s not who he is, but his mind is all over. When she’s laid in his bed curled up, sweat slicked on her skin, all he can think of his you – the girl with her clarinet smiling shyly.

His best friend.

part two soon!! - sry if your name is Sarah omg lol <3 and YAY for having eyesight almost back!!

[madamechrissy]

White Christmas

You're in between degrees (you just can't decide!) and working at a coffee shop, living with your boyfriend when just a week before Christmas he leaves you and kicks you out! Stuck staying at the coffee shop, rich Satoru Gojo - a regular - just so happens to have his poolhouse for rent, and offers to help you out. He couldn't be the reason you're kicked out and need him, right? Your car didn't go out because of him, and your shitty boyfriend didn't leave you because of his threats - no, it's just a hallmark Christmas miracle!

pairings - yandere! Gojo x barista! reader

warnings - stalking, manipulation, soft yandere (he wants what is best for you!) videoing without consent, masturbation, oral sex, tons of sexual tension, p in v sex, tying you up w/Christmas lights, creampie, size kink like a mf, Toru has a hell of a breed kink hehe, lil cute oblivious reader, honestly this fic is oddly cozy for a smut fic. 8.2k WC

A/N - Merry Christmas angels, have a smutty gift from me hehe <3

art is by @hunnismokah!

Your luck for Christmas is terrible.

Imagine, a few days before your boyfriend just breaks up with you, and worse than that, you live with him. Out of nowhere, you go from cuddling in his bed, to him telling you he just doesn’t feel anything anymore. Staying at your boss’s coffee shop for a couple nights was just humiliating, but she was nice enough to give you an advance to help you find somewhere.

Yet this was so not what you were thinking this holiday would be like – having no family really you clung to your boyfriend a lot. You thought maybe you’d even get engaged this year, you spent all your extra money on nonrefundable tickets for him too, so it left you completely screwed.

The snow is beautiful and all, but you’re not feeling very ‘merry’ not even with Mariah Carey blaring in your ear in the soft atmosphere of the coffee shop, yawning with the shitty sleep you got last night on the office couch. Your boss hasn’t kicked you out but you of course want to get out of her hair, she’s kind enough to you to help you out as much as she has.

The bell jingles as one of your regulars walks in – every morning like clockwork he’s here to order the sweetest, most sugary thing on the menu. He’s devastatingly handsome, something you’ve been avoiding admitting to yourself while with your man, but now? You can’t help but feel your heart race when his pretty blue eyes lock on yours, and he shakes off droplets of melting snow from silvery locks.

His smile is easy and bright, he’s all wrapped up in an expensive black overcoat today, boots swiped on the rug so as not to make a mess of the hardwood floors. Almost no one comes in quite this early, so it’s just him and a couple people who are in line in front of him.

Gojo is his name.

Always sweet, always tips too much, always ready for that caramel frappe with far too many pumps of vanilla. You already are getting it going when he gets up there, hands in his pockets. Fuck he’s so tall he towers over everyone in the damn coffee shop, you’re not sure he’d even have fit in your little apartment ceilings without dipping his head.

You nervously look down when you feel his baby blues on you – you haven’t even showered in a couple days, you bet you look terrible. You hope he doesn’t notice the eye bags, either, or the dark circles, but he’s already carefully assessing your face, frowning just a bit.

“Everything okay?” He asks softly, you sigh a bit now, almost breaking down from the question.

“Um… shit, I’m sorry,” you swipe at your eyes now, snow is falling all around the coffee shop from the outside in a gusty wind, already several inches piled up, plattering on the glass like you’re in a little snow globe. “I shouldn’t get like this.”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? No smile like usual…” He murmurs, as if he doesn’t know.

As if he hasn’t had his eye on you for weeks since he first walked in and saw you clinging to that shitty little boyfriend you had. He knew at that moment – you had to be his, but even so he tried to maintain a bit of distance, to learn more about you, study everything there was to know. He was patient, he could wait for you.

Until he saw him with some other girl – well that sure the fuck wouldn’t do. Who would cheat on you when they had you?

Satoru had paid him a ‘nice’ little trip after that, and threatened him so much he’d pissed his pants. Satoru had chuckled at just how pathetic that boy was, but really you were much better off without a cheating asshole. Even though he knew you were currently staying at this coffee shop – your car hasn’t left it – he did all this for your own good, really.

It was way past time for him to have you for Christmas, filled with his pretty white cum, he’d give you so much of it too, in all your holes. He’d decorate you in Christmas lights and tie you up, make sure you never left – why would you though, when you finally were his? You’d never have to work this shitty job again, he would keep you so full of cum you’d have trouble walking anyway.

The thoughts alone make his cock twitch underneath his slacks – he really should feel just a bit sick and depraved for his thoughts, but weren’t they sort of pure? Didn’t he just want to give you a perfect white Christmas?

“What’s wrong?” He asks, feigning confusion but not concern.

Of course he was upset you were hurting, even though you’ll be so much better off soon. God don’t you deserve it?

“Bad breakup ugh, I think I’m not getting enough sleep,” you mumble, handing him his warm coffee cup then, steam rising in a puffy little cloud. “Please take this free, for me just sobbing like this.”

“No way,” his fingers brush yours now, you gasp just a bit at the connection, before blushing right under his gaze.

Fuck you’re pretty.

“Are you okay honey?” Your boss comes to you, a hand on your back, you nod quickly, swiping tears. “She’s just having a rough Christmas.”

“How so?” Satoru asks, leaning on the counter, elbows propped up on the glass, setting his cup down.

“Please you don’t have to listen to my fucked ass life lately, I’m sure you have work to get to.”

“I run my own company, sweetheart,” you and your boss swoon at his little smile. “So I have time.”

“Why don’t you get a coffee with him?” Your boss nudges you just a bit, you frown at her.

“Are you sure?”

“Go ahead, sit for a bit,” she makes you a cup. “I’ll take over.”

“You’re too good to me,” you murmur, she just pats your back, and you nervously look at Satoru, clearing your throat now. “Do you wanna sit for a few?”

“Of course, I have time, Christmas is dead at the corp.”

“You do marketing, right?”

“Mhm, thrilling shit,” you giggle a bit, melting him like the snow that’s left little wet drops on his coat. Your cute, puffy eyes and nose just a little rubbed raw clearly, he can tell you’ve been crying over that trash.

He can’t wait to make you feel so good.

“No one wants to buy anything so things are slow, it’s kind of just hanging out at the office right now,” he leans back, sipping the drink, letting the sweetness hit his tongue and moaning. “You make the best coffee.”

“No way!”

“Mhm, it’s why I come, also…” he trails off with a little smile.

“Also what?”

“Pretty baristas make my morning better.”

“Oh, not me right now,” you’re a flustered mess, brushing back your hair now, sighing. “You’re sweet though.”

“Am I?” He certainly isn’t thinking anything sweet, no he’s imagining if your cum tastes as good as this cream in his coffee.

“Very, ah where do I begin?”

“I guess why you’re crying, I’m a good listener,” his knees brush against yours under the little table, you look out at the snow for a moment, sighing.

“I may have gotten kicked out and broken up with.”

“Ouch, on Christmas?”

“Yeah,” you grimace, sipping your coffee, feeling the bitter beans coat your mouth in warmth, looking back at Satoru’s handsome face. “It’s like some shitty hallmark movie, I’m staying here till I get a new place.”

“At the coffee shop?” He blinks just a bit, you frown, nodding. “Well, then I have a Christmas gift.”

“What’s that?” you set the cup down, he pulls out his phone now, showing you a picture with a little smile. “Is this…”

“My pool house, I was just putting it up for rent. My friend lived there for a bit and moved out, so I was gonna see if anyone wanted to rent it out, it’s three bedrooms and fully furnished.”

So his poolhouse was bigger than your apartment – three times as big as you flipped through the photos.

“This is just your poolhouse?”

“Yeah, this is my house,” he swipes right to a literal fucking manor. “Pretentious, I know, the family home blah blah.”

“No it’s beautiful,” you hand him back the phone, frowning a bit then. “The thing is, I spent all my damn money on this guy, I do have an advance, but no way I could afford that.”

You were getting a whole different degree after over five years of college, and you’re another two years in. You feel you’re the only twenty five year old starting all over, but you just hated what you majored in – thus the barista job. You’re literally a walking cliche, and here is this rich CEO being way too sweet.

“Maybe like when I graduate I could afford-”

“I’ll give you crazy cheap rent,” he wouldn’t charge you a fucking dollar. “Like just whatever you can pay comfortably.”

“What?” You blink now, gasping. “Why?”

“Why not help out? I wanna be on the nice list and all,” he smirks just a bit, far too charming, fucking you up with that look. “It’s Christmas, you shouldn’t be staying in a coffee shop.”

“I don’t know how I’ll repay you, though.” You blink back tears now, Satoru’s hand brushes one aside gently, a cool touch on a heated cheek.

God he could think of many ways, you on your knees for him, the weight of his cock on your tongue, sliding in and out of that pretty, perfect mouth. You bent over his desk, letting him pump his loads into you, before he fingers them right back in your cunt, making sure to keep it in, breeding your perfect pussy.

“You can make me coffee at my place every morning,” he says softly, snowy lashes flickering just a bit across your face. “Maybe cook me a real Christmas Dinner, I haven’t had one in a long time.”

“I can absolutely do that!” You smile all big and pretty – Satoru will send the cooks away for a bit, just to see your cute little ass in the kitchen.

God, imagine when you’re round with his babies, you’ll be so perfect.

“Then it’s set, I’ll help you move your things tonight.”

“It’s not much,” you admit, frowning now. “Like clothes, laptop, a couple things… I can just um… bring em in my car.”

“Whatever’s easier, I’ll meet you there at five, here’s the address,” he jots it down on one of the napkins, handing it to you with his number on it.

“I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“Just consider it a Christmas gift, mmkay?” He stands now, and you eagerly get up, hugging him before you can stop yourself, feeling his hard body against yours, his heart racing in his chest underneath your cheek. His hand comes to your back.

He smirks.

Things are working perfectly.

*****

“You don’t have to do all this,” you get emotional that night, when Satoru shows up with the cutest Christmas decorations.

The first night there was him showing you around, he was so sweet when he came to you with a huge tote, covered in lights and little ornaments and even a little mini tree. He’s got this cute little santa hat perched on one side of his head, he’s changed into this soft sweater and dark jeans after work instead of the suit you usually see him in.

You’d never guess that he was bringing you little things to spy on you.

“Nonsense,” he says, setting up the little tree and giving you a devastatingly attractive smile. “A place needs a little Christmas spirit, also I have so much just sitting, really.”

You help Satoru meticulously place each ornament, shoulders brushing each other, making you heat up a bit from the nerves. The pool house is warm, there are soft cinnamon candles he had the maids bring over and light when they cleaned the place just for you today.

This shit can’t be real – maybe you’ve hit your head watching a dumb Christmas Rom Com and so happened to dream him up. He smiles over at you, his eyes a myriad of blues, flickering candles reflecting in his pupils, lighting them up and making it so intense you can hardly breathe. Both of your hands reach for the same decoration, making you pause and pull back.

He picks up a delicate, hand painted crystal decoration, holding it up just a little bit. “That’s like a Tiffany!”

“Mmm, I guess,” he shrugs, not realizing all these damn ornaments are just insanely expensive. “This one can go right here. I have a few others too. Look, this is Frosty.”

Your eyes light up so pretty when he shows you the cute plush little snowman, you take it and smile, brushing your fingers across the soft white fur. “He’s so adorable, oh my god.”

“You can put him in your room if you want,” he mentions casually. “Or we can put him on one of the shelves.”

“No way, he’s too cuddly,” you hug him tightly, smiling at Satoru then. “Ah, thank you so much!”

“You can keep him too,” you’re looking right at that little camera in the snowman’s black eyes, oblivious, working perfectly to his plan.

Imagine getting to watch you touch yourself.

He’s got another little Santa, another camera, it’s like everything lined up so perfectly – you and him.

 He walked over to a small shelf on the wall, putting that Santa right there, smiling and feeling your gaze penetrate his back. You’re sitting on the arm of the couch when he turns back around, legs crossed at the ankles, hugging on to the little snowman closely.

You’re so perfect like that.

It takes a lot to play a slow game, to make you need him, to make sure he takes his time even with you here. But not sinking to his knees and worshipping you seems almost a cruel joke – isn’t it what you deserve? Instead he walks over to you, tilting your chin up just a bit.

“How are you doing?” He asks softly.

“This morning I was crying my eyes out, sleeping on a couch, now I’m here. It feels like a dream.”

“Good dream?” You smile at that, his fingers feel too good on your skin, you almost hate it when they drop.

“Very, but I guess I am really nervous. How to pay-”

“Don’t say pay me back, please,” you bite down on your lower lip, as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, goosebumps rise from just that, your body reacting to his little ghosts of touches.

“You should get some rest, you went through a lot today.”

“Yeah, that bed looks so comfy oh my god,” he chuckles just a bit.

“You’re so cute.”

“Nah. Maybe after a good night’s rest and a good bath.”

“Well feel free to anything, I’m right over there if you need me, yeah?” You nod, he leans down and for some insane moment you wonder if he’ll kiss you, but instead he just stands and smiles. “Good night Sweetheart.”

“Night, Gojo.

He leaves quietly without another word, the front door clicking shut, you hug that little snowman tightly to you. Even after you bathe and dry your hair, you can’t help but hold on to him, peering at the phone now, you look up your ex’s socials out of a morbid curiosity – just to find him taking Christmas pictures with another girl.

You glare at that screen.

He just broke up with you, how is he in matching pajamas? Unless… unless he had her the whole time.

“Shit.” You turn off your phone, you’ve cried so much there aren’t any more tears now, just burying your face against this cute snowman Gojo gave you.

Satoru Gojo, the man who’s literally like some Christmas Miracle, just who was he, and why was he so kind?

*****

The next morning, you remember Satoru bringing up making his favorite drinks and meals, so you cross the snow-dusted lawn to the main house. It was even more beautiful in the daylight, bright and modern, so big it’s insane to think he’s all alone in there, but you suppose that’s just what he’s used to. You find the key under the mat where he’d said it would be, nervously letting yourself in.

You feel a bit like some intruder, but you’d love to surprise him as a thank you, tomorrow was Christmas Eve and you didn’t exactly have anything to give your new… landlord? Is that what he was?

What was Satoru really?

You take in the bright, ridiculously clean home and shut the door behind you, leaving the chill outside, walking towards the kitchen. That alone was a chef’s dream, all marble counters and stainless steel, he has three fucking ovens – what do you even do with three ovens.

“Holy…” You trail off a bit, taking in your surroundings, peeking around each pretty white cabinet to find coffee. You feel even more like a damn intruder, ransacking his things, but he had said ‘make yourself at home’. Oh, he said sweetheart too, as if to wreck your ovaries.

You think Satoru threw you from depression into ovulation with that little tilt of your chin last night.

You grind up expensive coffee beans you find in the pantry, the scent making you feel like you’re right back at work. Sighing at how good it smells, you get to work making him the perfect cup. Then you get hungry, and find an almost empty fridge – he has a full deep freezer of various ice cream cones and flavors but hardly any real food.

How does he keep a body like this when all you proceed to find is candy and junk food all over?

It’s almost endearing, as put together as he seems, it’s a little hint of a bachelor pad, but you do find eggs and pancake mix.

“That’ll work…” You start whipping up fluffy pancakes when he comes out, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, staring right at your pretty little ass in those leggings.

You, in his kitchen.

Making him breakfast?

He bets that loser never appreciated something this sweet, but he sure the fuck did, watching in awe almost as you whip your little arm around, the pan already sizzling with oil. 

“Well, well,” you turn and then gasp, he smiles over at you, shirtless with just soft sweats on, your eyes drift down before you stop yourself. “What do we have here, are you makin’ pancakes?”

You felt a blush heating up your cheeks – god his body was perfect, hair a little messy from his sleep, his eyes lidded with a lazy smile. “I hope you don’t mind me like… breaking in? I wanted to thank you for everything, so I thought I’d at least make you breakfast.”

He walks over to you, saunters is the word, those v cuts on his hips and that silvery happy trail fucking you up, you swallow nervously as he comes to stand right in front of you.

“Do you like pancakes?” You manage to ask, he smiles, leaning down a bit.

“I do,” he reaches down, his thumb brushing a smudge of batter from the corner of your lip, making you gasp. He brings his thumb to his own mouth, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly licks it clean, smirking at you. “Delicious.”

Fuck.

Fuck was that!?

Your breath catches in your throat, you swipe a now clean corner of your mouth where you’d tasted the chocolate chip batter, feeling that gaze ruining you. He’s so close you feel the warmth of his body, your heart hammering in your chest so violently it feels like it’ll burst out. His hand falls now, seeing the pancake turning golden in the cast iron pan.

“Oh!” You quickly flip it, exhaling in relief that it’s not burnt. “I made that coffee too for you!”

“Looks perfect,” he smiles and takes the cup, blowing on it for a moment all casual, as if that moment was something normal.

Licking his thumb making you think of the most obscene, lewd things.

“Thank you sweetheart, I could get used to this treatment,” you smile back at him, trying to act normal.

“Well I’ll gladly do it every morning, not like I wasn’t for… much less deserving people,” you grumble now, he frowns at that. “You don’t need to hear my bullshit.”

“I have a few before work,” he sips his drink and sits as you put a pancake and a bunch of syrup all over it. “God, they’re so good.”

“Oh thank you!” You sit next to him now, settling in the chair and sipping your own drink.

“No thank you,” he laps at his lower lip with a long pink tongue you just shouldn’t fucking look at really, clearing your throat with a little smile. “Did he contact you?”

He better fucking not have.

Satoru paid him off well enough.

“No, no, he’s got these fucking matching pj pics on IG, the little shit,” Satoru grimaces.

“Well that’s just shitty, I’m sorry…”

“I’m just glad I did end up leaving,” you swipe a little syrup dripping on his chin now, licking it, watching his eyes dilate. “Mmm, yum.”

Fuck. Are you trying to ruin him?

“Tomorrow I have friends coming over for Christmas Eve,” he says then, gripping your wrist now, thumb trailing the underside of it. “I’d love you to come over too.”

“Oh but won’t it be so weird?”

“Not at all, they’re kind of my family.” You blush once more, looking down. “I’m guessing yours is distant?”

“Yeah, they are…” Satoru already knows. No dad, your mom seems to have nothing to do with you, and no siblings he could find anything on.

Satoru will give you a family though, he thinks it as his gaze drifts to your stomach, smiling just a bit imagining how pretty it will be round.

“I’d love to come over.”

“Perfect.”

That night after work back in the pool house – you couldn’t sleep. The memory of his touch, of the look in his pretty blue eyes, that damn tongue licking his thumb that way? It was fucking you up in all sorts of ways, every casual touch or close proximity to Satoru was sucking your breath away, until you couldn’t even remember how you got here.

Your ex wasn’t even in your mind whatsoever, not right now, no it was just Satoru flitting through your head, images of him, feelings and touches. Tonight he made sure you ate dinner with him, in his immaculate house that just smells like him, hints of that expensive cologne, something soft and sandalwood that you can’t quite place.

That cologne is in your senses too, you can practically smell Satoru on everything somehow, even this soft weighted blanket he’s got you, the image of his shirtless frame was burned into your mind. Your cunt is wet when you think about it too long, it’s been a while since you had cum.

But here, thinking of him?

You feel so wrong doing it, but you’re already aching and needy, imagining more – his fingers inside of you, fuck they’re long. His lips… just all over your skin. That tongue…

You slip your hand beneath the waistband of your pajama bottoms, your fingers finding the slick heat of your own cunt, touching a clit already pulsing and gasping out at it. You close your eyes, imagining it was his hand, his long, thick fingers brushing your clit right now, making you jolt, the blankets slipping off of you, as you’re overheated.

You feel it, warmth spreading all over, running circles on your swollen clit and whining out, it’s not enough, eyes fluttering shut now, picturing his face hovering right over you. Hadn’t you always found Satoru devastatingly attractive? So much so you avoided looking too long at those piercing blue eyes before, always looking down quickly.

The way he looked at you.

Was it all in your imagination, was it just him and no interest in you? He probably just wanted to help, to be a kind person, give back or some shit – and you’re shoving two fingers in your own gummy walls, contracting and squishing so tight.

“Ah!” You want longer ones, that hit your spot you’re trying so hard to, palm grinding on your clit, remembering the way his tongue had swept across his thumb. “Mnh!”

You’re pumping faster now, arching your hips, your other hand gripping those sheets beneath you, soft gasp escaping your lips as you press up on that little spot in your hole, the pressure building in your tummy. You shouldn’t be thinking of his cock and how big it must be, shouldn’t be cumming to him in his own poolhouse, but you can’t stop yourself.

Satoru smirks.

You’ve been such a good girl for him, your snowman right on the dresser facing you so perfectly, as he watches you in the darkness of his home office, sitting back in his leather chair, watching the scene unfold. On one of his three monitors, you were displayed in high definition, lying on the bed with your legs spread wide, so he had a perfect view.

“That’s it,” he coaches you quietly, undoing his sweats with a tug at the draw string, revealing his leaky cock that slaps his soft black shirt. “Got me leakin’ already, baby, fuck.”

He tugs up that shirt, letting his cock instead rest on his abdomen, moaning softly as his huge hand encircles his cock, stroking up and down carefully, his head falling back for a moment. God, imagine your little hand trying to cover him? Your mouth, the one crying out so wanton and lewd, full of him?

He’d fuck your throat so good your voice wouldn’t work.

He leans back forward, blinking you into view, watching as your back arches, your pathetic little fingers working between your legs. He knows you need him, it’s so hard not to give you it yet, listening to your whimpers, your little soft, desperate pants, clearly having a hard time making yourself cum.

“I’ll help you soon, pretty,” he whispers, his own hand stroking himself in time with the rhythm of your hand, matching it and exhaling, spitting right on his reddened tip. “What you do to me.”

Should he feel bad, watching you? No, you’re his after all, and he wants to know what you like when he does touch you, pay attention to your clearly needy little clit, how your thighs clamp down. He’ll make sure to keep them spread, keep you folded in half, it’s all he can think as he bucks up into his hand, smeared with spit and precum, the snow falling against the office window in the dark.

His pretty, perfect Christmas gift, just waiting to be unwrapped all for him. “Good girl,” he murmurs to the screen softly, voice breaking in the middle, veins just pulsing as he pumps more precum. “Prepping my gift f’me.”

Satoru hungrily watches you hit your peak, hips bucking up into your little hand, head sinking into the pillows as you moan.

His name.

Fuck you’re moaning his name.

He strokes himself faster, whispering yours as he cums ropes down his hand, messy streaks that run warm, picturing pumping it all inside of that hole you’re slipping your fingers out of. You’re softly moaning, shaking just a bit, your clean hand brushing your own hair back, covering your cute little face.

He bets it’s warm to the touch, in the prettiest blush.

Satoru exhales and cleans up, his eyes never leaving the screen, especially when you stand up and lean to look at yourself in the mirror, he’s already sensitive from cumming, but he’s pulsing and throbbing watching you. Leaned over and fixing now messy hair, looking all flushed and embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” he chuckles and touches the cool screen, right where your face is, as you pick up the snowman and his show is over. He keeps you on though, since he can hear your gentle breathing as you sleep. “Soon, sweetheart.”

*****

Satoru’s friends are amazing, but you can’t stop the awkwardness, the feeling of knowing you came screaming his name was overwhelming. You don’t even know how to fucking face him in the morning, when your dumb ass car won’t start.

“I swear it was fine…”

“I got you on a ride, don’t worry,” you’d ended up next to him in that sleek sports car, horribly embarrassed.

“I don’t wanna depend so much on you, already you’re doing too much,” his hand had come to your thigh as you both sat in front of that coffee shop, leaning low and looking at you behind his dark circle shades.

Too close, he’s too close.

His fingers are near your slick warmth, trickling down your inner thigh from how close he is, how his fingers press higher, squeezing your thigh so tightly it squishes in his grip. You’re trembling, so nervous then, wondering if you’re brave enough to lean forward, to kiss him.

But he’s gone as soon as he’s there, leaned back now, smiling. “Don’t worry your pretty head about that, we’ll fix that car soon. Probably after Christmas though.”

“I feel I’m putting you out.”

“Not at all,” you had sighed then.

“You’re too sweet to me, you really are.” He had just smirked at you, this look that sent an ache through you, as close as he is you can almost taste the sweetness on his breath, as it ghosts on your lips.

You can hardly breathe in that car, the heat blaring, Gojo so close.

“Sweet, hmm? Maybe I’m not as sweet as you think,” you’d just giggled at that, shaking your head.

You have no clue he unhooked your alternator, you’re so cute.

He’d of course had to pick you up too, the more you need him, the better.

It’s Christmas eve of course, Satoru makes sure to get you the perfect gift, a pretty necklace he can’t wait to tug and choke you with as he fucks you from the back – the chain is more than thick enough, just begging for your neck. He bought you a dress that you’re now wearing, looking so pretty in it he can hardly stand it, sitting there and talking to his friends.

You fit right in, but why wouldn’t you? It’s clear to all of them that Satoru is obsessed, they know their friend and when he’s in love he’s in love, hopeless and desperate, but even they’ve never seen him like this. He can’t take his eyes hardly off you, even when he’s laughing, when they’re all reminiscing, it’s like his gaze follows you across the room.

Everyone can practically feel how badly Satoru wants you – except you, of course, oblivious and cute, just enjoying the company, feeling so homey.

Shoko is hilarious, Nanami has this dry humor, Suguru is the yin to Satoru’s yang, like the exact opposite of him, but they fit so well. Seeing them on such a night makes you feel far too much like you’re at home, and not just staying in Satoru’s pool house for a time.

It feels too good, so good you get up to give them time alone, when he quickly stops you, a hand on your wrist, leaning low.

“Sweetheart, where are you going?” He asks quietly, possessive in how he holds your wrist, looking down your pretty neck.

God he can’t wait to tie you up, choke you until you can’t breathe, fuck you until it’s just all him.

“I want to give you time, I’ve already intruded so much,” you look down and fidget a bit with one of the buttons of his dress shirt, he tenses, tightening his hold. “You’ve been amazing to me, but I don’t want to take over your time.”

“I invited you,” he exhales now, stepping too close, leaning low. “You wanna go be alone tonight?”

“Um…” you blink tears suddenly.

Alone, you’re alone there, and here you’re with someone you want far too much, you’re far too comfortable, as if your ex meant fucking nothing the moment Gojo smiled at you. Part of you should feel bad, another part wants to sink to your knees and show him how much you appreciate him, that thought spreading to your core, with hot need.

How much would you have to touch yourself to even be okay? It’s like every moment near Satoru Gojo makes it worse.

“I got a gift for you,” you gasp. “It’s nothing really, but I want you to wait for gifts so I can give it. Please?”

“Of course,” you smile tremulously then. “Um, I also got you something, but it’s really not much of anything.”

“Please, anything you get me is perfect,” he kisses your temple, his lips lingering, your lashes flutter shut, leaning forward.

Too perfect in his arms.

You just are, he can practically smell how turned on you are for him, he wonders what panties you’re wearing underneath this pretty red dress he got you – were they soaked already? God he’d drink your cunt from them, bury his face, his hands lingering on your hips too long, lips still sitting there, the two of you breathless for a moment.

He wants to reassure you, but you just need to be a little needier, so he spends the next couple hours completely normal, waiting for his friends to leave, hugging them all good bye. You come help clean up, quiet and easy next to him, your gift sitting unopened still.

“You don’t have to clean, the maids will, sweets.”

“Still! No need to leave them much,” you start rinsing plates, when he comes behind you, turning off the water, hard body pressing against the curve of your spine.

You whimper.

Fuck, fuck.

He halts just a bit, you don’t see his satisfied fucking smile, as the snow starts whirling and the fire is crackling in the living room, like you’re in this perfect cozy nook of Satoru’s world. You bite your lip, hating the sound that came out of your mouth suddenly, looking back at him, hands still dripping wet from water.

“I’m so fucking sorry, um… wine and… been a bit? And you’re very…”

“Shh,” he cups your face, wrapping and arm around you, hand splaying your stomach, warm as it presses, and you can’t stop the next soft cry. “Oh yeah? Just been a while, that’s why you’re like this?”

“I… um…” His hand slips lower, cupping you over the red silk, your head falls back now against his chest, body arching.

“Are you tellin’ the truth, sweets? That’s why you’re so hot here, burning my fucking hand? A long time? Did he not make you cum, baby?” His voice isn’t the sweet one from the coffee shop, it’s darker now, his eyes black when you look back at them, a smirk on his lips.

You’re pulsing around air, aching for him, lost for words.

“I asked ya a question,” his hand starts to slide up that material soft against the creamy skin on your thighs. “Answer me, sweets. Be good f’me.”

“God…” you’re arching for more, feeling a thick, heavy length press on your lower back now. “I um… no, that’s not all.”

“Then what is it, why are you so wet? Hmm?” You bite down on a trembling lip, overwhelmed by the tall, buff white haired man toying with you, lost in his dark eyes and plush pink lips, parted, baring just a hint of sharp teeth.

“I’m wet for you, Gojo,” he moans then, slipping the material even higher, you’re so overheated from his body and the fire you feel beads of sweat trailing across your collarbone. “For you.”

“Satoru,” he corrects, his cock leaking and sticking to his boxers, so ready to bury himself inside you. “Say my name.”

“Satoru.”

He captures your lips as soon as you say it, mouth crashing down on yours brutally. It’s not the gentle, sweet kiss you might have expected from his lingering one on your temple, it’s not gentle, no – it’s hungry, devouring you, tongue plunging between the seam of your lips, taking you over.

You helplessly open for him, as if mentally you can fucking hear his voice murmuring ‘good girl’. The soft sounds of that christmas music are mixing with the fire, the heavy wind, his soft husky breaths, you’re so far gone you could cum from a kiss and your cunt exposed to the warm air as he tugs that dress high.

His other hand moves from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair and just tugging until it hurts, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding into the warm recesses of your mouth, drinking you. That’s what it is, he’s drinking you up, owning you, you’re desperately meeting his kiss, pressing your little tongue against his, whining out into his mouth.

He pulls back for a moment, a string of saliva just dissolving between you both, you’re shaking in his hold, lingering on his lips like wine, so perfect and sweet. Your eyes are already fucked out, a hand gripping his wrist where he’s so close to slipping his fingers in.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” you gasp then, eyes shooting up to him in shock. “You don’t even know, do you? Oblivious, my sweet girl, but don’t worry, you won’t need to think.”

“I w-won’t?” You’re so cute to him then, he smirks just a bit, caressing your jaw delicately.

“Not at all, not when you’re all mine sweetheart, just let me fuck you until you forget everything.”

He should be concerning, right? The shit he’s saying, but you don’t want to think anymore, you want him to take over, to take all the pain and loneliness, and pump you all full of him instead. It’s insanity, the way you trust this man you barely know, how you want him inside you, on you, everywhere.

“Say the word and I’ll fuck every thought from that pretty head, you’ll just be my perfect fuck toy, won’t you?”

God, are you really gonna say yes?

You nod, lips parted then, as he smiles, kissing you once more, messy and desperate. “You sure?”

“I want to be.”

“Good, good girl,” you melt against him at that, the plates forgotten in the sink when he turns you to him, your hands coming up to grip the front of his shirt, as he presses you against that counter. “So long baby.”

“So long, what do you-”

“Shh, no thinking,” he’s kissing down your neck, hands gripping your ass, sighing as his thigh presses between yours, soaking wet. “I’ve been wondering all night, if those pretty little panties are already ruined for me. What do you think, sweetheart? Should I check?”

A whimper escapes your throat, so nervous suddenly, you’re literally stuck to your panties, slipped up puffy folds with how wet you are. You nod quickly in a jerky little motion, unable to form words as he kisses down the side of your neck, your cunt pulsing even more wetness out.

“You’re too precious, can’t talk already? I haven’t even touched you yet,” he whispers those words in your ear, fingers finally finding ruined lace, and that’s when he can hardly hold back anymore.

“Mnh! Satoru…”

“God, you sayin’ my name like that,” he groans, pressing up, his snowy lashes fluttering shut as he toys with your sticky panties, making you moan softly. “Soaked. All f’me, aren’t you?”

You nod again, sucking in a breath as he pulls back to look into your eyes, tugging a thigh over his hip, a thick finger directly over your clit, rubbing it in mean little circles over the thin fabric. You almost cum from that you’re so sensitive and needy, crying out and arching for more, head falling back.

“Eyes on me,” you manage to focus when he grips your chin, pressing that cotton even more flush against you, you’re desperately shaking for more. “That’s it, look at me, pretty girl. All your attention. Me.”

He keeps fucking whispering it as he touches you, until the ruined panties are nothing but this thin, messy barrier you want gone, slipping his fingers over them almost in you instead of moving them. Torturing and teasing until you cry out, your hips bucking up against his hand.

“Please, Satoru…”

“All this time, you’ve been sitting there with my friends, smiling and laughing, while this pretty little cunt was just aching to be touched. Weren’t you, huh? Slutty pussy, god…”

“Y-yes,” that’s all you manage to get out, he’s too much, but he’s also edging you, teasing you, the friction of that damp lace now cool against your needy, puffy little clit, that’s just twitching for him. “Satoru…”

“What do you need, baby?” He murmurs, pulling your panties to the side, slipping two fingers down your slit. “This?”

“More, fuck… please, more,” you have no sense of shame or embarrassment, grinding on him shameless, he pulls back those fingers, leaving your thighs shaking. “Satoru…”

“Mmm,” his fingers are soaking wet and glossy, he puts two to his mouth and sucks, the motion filthy as his mouth wraps it, smirking. “If we do this, you’re all mine sweetheart.”

“But you… don’t even know me? And…” He’s slipping your juices in your mouth now, fingers coated in your cunt and his spit, you moan.

“Suck,” you obediently do, his eyes are black then, a feral look on his pretty face, watching you bob your head. “You’re mine. Just mine.”

You barely know what the fuck happens, or how you end up tied up with a string of pretty white christmas lights, Satoru’s insane ass grin as he ropes your arms shibari style, pushing your tits out as he ropes them. He’s hungrily sucking on your perky nipples, moaning on each one, you’re on all fours on this soft rug in front of the fireplace, lit up for him.

“God, that’s perfect,” he murmurs when he’s done, and your ass is in the air, pussy soaked and dripping, your ripped panties next to that pretty dress tossed aside on the floor. “Cunt is soaked, she needs me, hmm?”

“Please,” you should be scared, ask yourself why you’re tied up with Christmas lights on Satoru Gojo’s floor, but when you see his body, his thick, girthy cock leaking pre, you instead eagerly suck on your knees.

“That’s it, such a good girl, god I knew it,” he whispers desperately, cock heavy and hot in your mouth, the tip leaking pre against your uvula. Spit is drippin down his heavy balls, making it a mess, glossy with your spit as he rocks his hips, tugging at your hair. “Throat is only gonna know my shape, just mine, hmm?”

Your answer is a moan around his cock, pussy so needy and empty you’re dying for him inside, but you also desperately want to please him. Every fuck into your tight throat, every stretch and burn has you soaking wet, dripping down your slit onto that very rug beneath you, gasping for a breath as he shoves his cock as deep as you can even take it.

Satoru’s lost in how pretty you look like this, arms bound and lit up, his perfect Christmas gift that he can’t wait to fill up.

“Suckin’ me s’good, f-fuck…” He’s whimpering then, the sound shooting straight to your core, fucking your throat faster, pulling your hair until mascara trails down your cheeks with your tears. “I’ll give you anything, baby, yeah? Anything.”

You’re drooling when he pulls back, tilting your chin up to spit in your open mouth, you swallow so good, tasting saliva and pre, when he turns you to face the fireplace, pressing you down between your shoulder blades. He slides two fingers deep in your hole, you’re wriggling around, clenching him so tight, making his cock leak more pre, moaning.

“So tight,” he whispers in wonder, he wants to give you more prep but he can’t handle another moment without your cunt milking him. He bends down, pulling your ass up and licking a strip from your clit to your ass. “Mmm, the taste.”

“Satoru! Mnh!” The way his huge tongue just licks you clean, filthy stripes that are for his pleasure, messy and not hitting your spots, just scooping in as his moans vibrate, and his hands grip your ass bruisingly. “Please, please. In me…”

“Mmm, one more,” he can’t help but drink just a little more of your juices, they’re dripping in rivulets down his chin, he grins as you’re twitching, spreading your cute hole to spit in it. “Arch f’me.”

You eagerly do, the green cord digging into your thighs, when Satoru lines up his leaky pink tip and finally fucks you. But he doesn’t inch in, no he bottoms the fuck out in one mean stroke. You’re gasping out, desperately clutching the fur underneath you, so full you can’t take it, belly bulging and making the lights press in even more painfully than before.

Deep, punishing strokes that wreck your cunt, gliding easier and easier with the mess you are becoming, the slickness and your trembling walls accommodating his size. Every bit of pain just makes the filthy pleasure even better, the sounds of his moans, the smacking of skin, your squelching cunt all echoing in your ears.

He shoves so deep you scream then, so deep you feel him everywhere, in your tummy, fuck in your throat, gasping for air.

“Satoru, so much! Too much!” You’re shaking, he’s laughing softly, breath caught when you clamp down on him, looking at how huge his cock is compared to your tiny little pussy as he pulls back.

“God, look at that,” he watches that stream of slick pour down his cock as he pulls out then pushes back in, watching her stretch around him. “So much bigger than you, aww, she can hardly even take him.”

He’s dying over the size difference, the way your little hole is trying its best, the way his huge hand takes over your ass when it smacks down, the huge handprints spreading to your thighs. He’s not gentle, no, he’s fucking you like he wants to make sure you never leave, never even think of anything again.

“That’s it, takin’ my cock like you’re made for it,” he whispers, fucking you harder and harder, you’re gasping desperately, so full, his balls smacking your needy, twitchy clit with filthy fwaps, as you drip everywhere. “Makin’ a mess of that rug, hah, oh sweetheart you need me, huh?”

“N-need you – nghhh!” You’re done when he loses his control, bruising grip, fucking you senseless, strokes so messy.

“Gonna stuff you so full of white,” he chuckles, psychotic blue eyes glinting, prone over you, making everything dig in and leave its mark, cupping your face and looking down at you. “Aww, you want that? My Christmas present. My perfect fucking present. Mine.”

He keeps repeating it – mine, mine, mine – cock pulsing and thickening, pressing into your cervix, sending you over the edge, blinded when that orgasm rips through you. Your cunt clamps down on him so tight, pulsing and milking him for all the white he’s promising, earning his groan, his tensing.

“Gonna fill you up, next Christmas you’ll have all my babies,” you really should be scared, confused, but you’re still reeling from it, his hips slamming into you, railing your cunt until it is all his. “You want it, don’t you? Say it baby, please.”

“W-want it… ah!”

“Fuck, m’gonna give you so much, all you deserve sweetheart, all for you,” you feel him pulse inside you when he slams in to the hilt, hips snug on your ass now, a hot, thick flood of his white cum filling you up. “That’s it, take all of it, s’all yours.”

Satoru’s barely able to hold himself up when he busts inside you, coating your quivering walls, it’s so much it starts to leak out around his cock, mixing with your own slick and dripping down your thighs. He pumps a few more times, shakily taking breaths, hands holding you tightly, moans escaping.

“Took so much, god you’re perfect,” he whispers, pulling out to watch that creamy mix push out of your abused hole. “God you’re so good.”

The lights left their mark, but he’s massaging your skin after, cleans you up with his tongue, kisses every mark the lights left. He’s got you in his bed when Christmas strikes, smiling as you snore soundly against his chest, you’re wearing one of his shirts that swallows you, his cum still dripping from your pretty pussy.

He can’t wait until next year, when you’ll have your first baby for him, and he’ll already have another put in you next Christmas. You wake up sometime in the night, looking at him, blinking a bit.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Go back to sleep.”

“Merry Christmas, Satoru,” you whisper, snug in his arms, wondering just what luck you have to be there.

Was it luck, some Christmas miracle? Or was it Satoru Gojo making sure he got his perfect gift?

heheh I hope ya'll enjoyed - idea was from my bb @strychnynegirl

[uhnosav]

im a hoe hoe hoe for gojo

[bvnnysdepravedmind]

the idea of being used by a group of male friends, one of them invites me over, all of them are at the house, looking at me like im tasty.

we all sit down on the couch and one of them starts to touch me, still innocently enough, a hand on my thigh, around my waist. then another one, groping my breasts, lifting up my shirt...

until im completely naked, two hold my legs open, two hold my arms, one spanks my cunt while i cry but they see that im wet, they see that i like it.

they choke me, hit me, fuck me all they want, im covered in their cum by the end, after all of them have their way with me.

and they leave me there, bonus points if they take pictures and threaten to expose me if i ever tell anyone and if i dont become their personal whore...everyday now i have to be on all fours and do whatever they want.

that's all im good for anyways.

[sahkuna]

LET'S KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the end of your contract with GS Holding Corp. is coming to an end. well, your contract working for the company's founder and CEO, gojo satoru, as his personal assistant is ending since you no longer would work directly under him. but gojo will be damned if he lets that happen without trying to change your mind.

content warning(s): fem! + afab reader, plot-ish → eventual smut so 18+ mdni, office au, risky workplace relationship, oral (m→f), unprotected, semi-public sex??? (it's in an office), pining gojo satoru bc that's my fave to write

word count: 6.7K+ holay molay...

a/n: wanted to post this bc 1) its been a millineum since i last posted & a fulfilled req and 2) mentally rejecting that manga leak/ending -_-

“I’ll miss you.”

You stand in front of the photocopy machine unmoving. The soft buzz of ink etching itself onto paper is the only sound that floats through the air beside the voice of the persistent CEO you work under. 

Had you known that he would be following you around the building, bugging you as you tried to complete the tasks that he assigned you to finish on his behalf, you would’ve straight up told him to do it himself. 

You contribute much of your time and effort to this company, and you’re highly recognized for your work. …But you absolutely didn’t need the recognition to come in the form of being under constant surveillance from your boss.

Assuming you might’ve not heard him the first time when you don’t respond right away, he leans in closer and rests a comfortable arm on your tense shoulders. “I said, I’m gonna miss you—”

“I heard you the first time, Gojo.”

When the machine stops whirring indicating that it has finished the job, you don’t hesitate to snatch the sheets of paper from the printer and slap them onto Gojo Satoru’s chest, decked out in a baby blue button-up. All too soon, you’re sidestepping around him and heading out the door toward your office right down the hall.

“Hey!” he exclaims at your sudden early departure.

Hot on your tail, Gojo trails after you clutching the papers close to his chest. “Where are you going?” Gojo asks when you take an unexpected sharp left turn from the usual route to his secluded workroom. 

Despite your best efforts to leave him behind, his tall stature annoyingly reminds you that he can keep up with you just fine.

“Y’know,” your boss starts, catching your attention as you practically speed-stomp your way down the halls of his corporation, “Ijichi would never treat me like this!” 

You could practically hear the way he pouts from behind you. When you briefly glance back to confirm your suspicions about what expression he could be wearing, you’re not surprised to see he’s throwing a wistful gaze above your head. His soft, pink lips are downturned and tacked with his snow-white brows all bunched together, probably wishing you’d be more graceful with him.

Or take pity on him at the very least, you know?

You turn back around and continue your path toward your own office space. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming back next month then, huh?”

Pity denied.

Gojo swore he heard the wry smile in your voice as soon as you finished your sentence. You’re willfully teasing him and playing with his emotions. But that’s why he’ll miss you— none of his employees would dare talk to him or give him the same flack as you do.

When you step into your office, so does he. And Gojo, either painfully oblivious or simply choosing to ignore the blatant act of you purposefully and almost slamming the door shut in his face, swings it wide open and ambles toward your workstation, a smile creeping onto his lips.

“Extend your contract with me,” he starts, carelessly tossing the sheaf of paperwork onto your tidy desk once he’s within arms reach of it. He peeks at you over his shades and returns your unimpressed stare with an innocent smile. “I’ll raise your salary a reasonable amount once you do.”

While that did sound nice on paper, realistically speaking, dealing with Gojo’s antics for the foreseeable future was less than ideal for you. God forbid you start getting grey hairs at such an early age. Or a raised blood pressure. And besides…

“I still work under and for Utahime’s department though,” you say matter-of-factly, once you’ve crossed the space of your room to sit behind your desk. Your lips twist into a soft pout as you shuffle the scattered sheets together and place them into a neat pile.

Ah, right.

After Ijichi had filed for a paid sick leave after an unrelated work injury several months ago, you graciously covered your colleague’s position as the personal assistant to the founder and CEO of GS Holdings Corp., for the time being.

Pushing away the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head at the namedrop of his top leading director, Gojo deflates onto your desk.

Utahime has been on his case for the past few weeks to hurry up and file the paperwork so that you’d be back in her good graces as soon as your term with him expires. He’s been procrastinating on filing out the paperwork, mostly because he hates doing tedious work, the other half of him flat-out does not want to see you go so soon.

To say Gojo has thoroughly enjoyed you operating as his aide would be a huge understatement. 

Wherever Gojo was in his grand office building, it wouldn’t be unusual for your co-workers to spot you too far off. Outside of work is the same story, especially considering you’d be the one driving him home from work since Ijichi acted as both his assistant and driver. 

“Just switch to mine!” Gojo whines. He joins you at your desk and sits his ass right on the documents you had printed and stretches his limbs against the surface, nearly eating up all the space on your desk. He ignores your strained quips at him to get the hell off. 

“Utahime’ll be fine, let her find someone else. The job market’s already bad as is, so let another person take it and come be with me.” 

There’s a double meaning if you dig deep, and Gojo prays and hopes you’d take the time to digest what he really means. 

However, it seems like you’re not in the mood to be an excavator today.

Pushing his antics and sweet-talking to the side, you arch a questioning brow at him and lean back into your chair. There was nothing explicitly charged behind that reaction of yours, but it shook Gojo to the core realization that his attraction to you was unnerving— though not unnerving enough to have him stay away from you.

“What about Ijichi? Where’s he gonna go if I stay?”

Gojo visibly perks up at your usage of the word ‘if’, because in his mind he’s already imagined the situation to be quite likely. You see the way he sits a little taller, a little higher on your desk at the proposed question.

But alas, you dash his hopes by adding, “Which I won’t. But if I did, what then?”

“Then you guys can make it a two-person job!” he proclaims as if it were the most easy and obvious answer in the world. Gojo rests his feet on either side of your hips and the heels of his dress shoes press into the leather material of your rolling chair, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together due to the lack of room. “You know I need all the help I can get around here.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Gojo.”

With the wheels on your chair, your boss uses it as leverage to roll you impossibly closer to him than you already were, angling your face centimetres away from his lower torso. You will your eyes to not drift down his body and toward his lap.

Lord knows the field trip the man would have with that if he were to catch you blatantly checking him out right before him. 

“Why’s it so hard to convince you to stay, huh?” he asks, knocking a soft knuckle against that stubborn head of yours. “Why? You don’t like me or something?”

Your heart stutters in your chest at his question. 

Insufferable as he can be sometimes, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some magnetic pull towards him. 

Losing control of the situation a bit, you grab the reins again. Clearing your throat you ask, “Do you talk to all your employees like that?”

He shakes his head. “Nah.” Gojo props an elbow onto his knee and presses his cheek into the palm of his hand. His smile grows warm and gooey when his blue eyes clash with yours from where you sit a few inches below him. “Just you.” 

You’ll die. You swear you can die right now from the way he’s looking at you— which is no way a boss would ever look at their employee. Let alone assistant. 

Keep it professional.

“Wow! I’m flattered,” you reply, your tone laced heavily with dry sarcasm. You brush his legs away, successfully bringing his feet to rest on the floor and scoot back from your desk. The heated tension that once lingered in the air clears out a bit as you rise to your feet.

Soft cerulean eyes watch as you stand before him, a bit more guarded as you cross your arms across your chest. Whatever you say next is completely lost on him because unlike you, as subtle as he may be, Gojo allows his eyes to wander.

He swallows thickly. You shouldn’t do that. His gaze inconspicuously slides down to the low neck of your blouse and zeroes in on how your arms press against your chest, deliciously squeezing your breasts together and—

“Satoru!” you hiss.

Shit.

Maybe he wasn’t as discreet as he thought.

Quickly flitting his attention back to your face, Satoru offers you a half-assed apology but it’s too late for that. Your face is screwed tight with abashment and bafflement after having caught him in the act. It’s an emotion he hasn’t seen you wear lately. He wants to see more of that. More of you.

Before you could get a word out, ready to rip him a new one about how your eyes weren’t ‘down there’, he hurriedly rushes out a proposition— changing the subject and bringing you both back to the original reason as to why he’d been following you around this past hour. “If I get you to like me, will you work past your term?”

You rest your arms at your sides, completely forfeiting your motion to scold him. Now that’s new. “I never said I don’t like you.”

Satisfaction settles in his chest, warm and heavy at your statement. Gojo liked the sound of that. 

“Then how about this,” the tall CEO moves from his seat on your desk toward you. With each step you take back, he matches you in stride until he’s got your back up against a wall. Quite literally. 

“If I get you to like me more than you do now, you stay. With me. Deal?”

The gentle scent of fabric softener and sandalwood cologne wafts around you. This proximity made you squirm with anticipation. “Do what you want,” you say, craning your neck up to stare at him resolutely. “It won’t change the fact that I’ll be in a whole new department next month.”

The smirk on Gojo’s lips stretches wide as he meets you stare for stare. His voice drips heavy with confidence and a brazen spirit as he asks, “Yeah?”

You only manage a stiff nod, not trusting yourself to speak lest it comes out as a fucking moan from the sexual tension alone.

Content with your compliant state, Gojo finally backs off from you and makes his way toward your door. “Don’t forget that meeting we have with the executives this Friday.”

“I know,” you tumble out, sinking back onto your office chair, miffed that he's got you in such a tizzy. It's a miracle that you don’t melt into it right away under his gaze.

You pick up a new batch of paperwork and begin filing them into their respective folders. When you finish with the first set, Gojo’s still lingering by the doorway, watching you.

“Yes?”

“Nice top, by the way.” His hand rests on the wooden frame, eyes half-lidded with intent. “It really does bring out your eyes.”

As expected, you did not forget about that special executive meeting on Friday. Nor did you forget about the many others you’d have to host and coordinate after that, too.

Essentially, you didn’t let what had transpired the week before deter you from your respective duties as Gojo’s personal assistant. As his right-hand… woman.

But you didn’t entirely forget about what went down either. 

Whether you adhered to his “deal” or not was completely up to you. However, after that day, every personal meeting or time alone together seemed to bristle with tension, heavy with a delicious sort of pressure of the unknown. 

When Gojo would catch your eye or you’d catch his during prolonged meetings that stretched over the initial run time with the higher-ups, there would be a brief moment of shared glances. One recent instance stuck with you to the last few weeks of your contract.

You remember how he would roll his eyes sarcastically as if he were being forced against his own will to attend these kinds of things— which technically he was, but that’s the reality of being a successful founder and CEO of your own company— and his actions would rouse a stifled giggle from you, which in turn prompted an easy smile of his own.

But it was through these shared glances, these brief moments of humour that it would slip into something a little slower, a little more sweet the more you two held eye contact like dripping honey until you broke it off, hurriedly directing your attention back toward the front of the room.

It’s only a matter of time until this bundled ball of emotions displayed through knowing glances and brief moments of heated exchanges finally snaps.

You both wonder when that’ll be.

“This is crazy.”

You slide your gaze away from swirling your cup of iced cappuccino to Shoko who sits beside you. She leans her head back against the cushions of your office sofa— a complimentary gift from Gojo two weeks ago(you suspect it was his last-ditch effort to get you to stay).

“What is?” you ask.

Sitting up, Shoko crosses her leg over the other and fixes you with an exhausted look. “This!” she exclaims, gesturing her hands around the vicinity of your room. There are moving boxes scattered everywhere, which is a bit absurd considering you’re only moving one level downstairs to your old space. 

“I can’t believe you’ve only got a week left until you switch departments,” she says. “Suguru’s gonna lose his head the moment you’re gone and Satoru’s already started with the theatrics.”

Trust and believe that you already know. It’s hard not to when you’ve got the Chief Operating Officer, Geto Suguru, knocking on your door for an offer you ‘don’t wanna turn down’. But once you’d told Geto that you were still going ahead with filling out the documents to head back to Utahime and her team, it led to a hefty chunk of your lunch being taken up by him asking (begging) you to reconsider when your contract end date drew closer. 

“I just worry for Ijichi is all,” you say, shrugging as if the situation were already out of your hands. “Gojo’s been very temperamental and… well, bratty these past few days.” 

Shoko’s brown and neatly trimmed brows shoot up with interest at the disclosure.

You think back to a few days ago when you told Satoru to take it easy on Ijichi. You told your white-haired superior that he’d have to patiently reintroduce him to the new tech and procedures that Ijichi would work with as it would be his first week back. You couldn’t believe your ears when he straight-up told you, “I don’t care about a man’s hardships. He can work them out by himself!”

“Satoru’s always tormented the poor guy,” Shoko says, shaking her head at her friend’s show of obnoxious behaviour, “but he does mean well. I think.”

And speak of the devil… 

Over the curve of Shoko’s shoulder through the open blinds of your clear, glass window you spot Gojo. Noticing that he’s caught your attention, he waves incessantly at you through the glass before you hear him twist the knob of your door open.

“Which reminds me,” your friend continues, drawing your sights back on her, “the rest of the team and I were thinking of heading out for drinks later to celebrate with you one last time. Wanna come?”

“Oooh,” Gojo drawls once he’s within earshot. 

He’s looking extraordinarily handsome today, wearing black slacks and a buttoned, linen navy blue top. He’s smiling boyishly from ear to ear when he catches you twisting your lips in a tight purse as if you were trying to stifle a smile of your own. “A celebration, hm? Can I come?”

Shoko scrunches her face at the sudden question and self-invitation. She throws a bewildered look in Gojo’s direction when he settles himself onto his signature spot in your office. Your desk. “Why?”

Huh?

What kind of question was that? Why else would he want to spend an evening out with everyone? With you especially.

White brows bunch together, tight with confusion. “To celebrate with you guys?” he responds as if Shoko had just asked a one-dimensional question. 

“You’ve been a moping mess this past month after you’ve learned that she—” Shoko points her finger into the flesh of your cheek, “—wasn’t going to extend her work contract with you. So, if anyone’s gonna be celebrating, it sure as hell isn’t you.”

Yeesh! Tell him what you really think.

Knowing Shoko didn’t mean any harm by her words, you still felt inclined to soften the blow of her statement just a tad. “Plus, you don’t drink alcohol, Gojo.”

“And you don’t drink,” Shoko adds, raising her arms in exclamation as if to thank you for bringing that point up.

“Well,” pushing himself off the edge of your mahogany desk, Gojo stops a bit before the sofa you and Shoko both occupied. “I don’t need to drink to have a good time with my team!” he defends, directing a pout-induced glower at his colleague.

You’d think he’s done, but with the touch of Gojo’s large hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you off the couch that you realize he’s far from over at stating his point. “And neither do you,” he says, he pulls you behind him, steering you both toward the door. “We’ve got plans.”

Puzzlement crosses over not only yours but Shoko’s features as well.

“We do?”

“Since when?”

Gojo nods at you and Shoko’s questions spoken in tandem. “Emergency meeting. She and I’ve got important matters to discuss.” You feel the faint brush of his hand find the small of your lower back and maneuver you out the door and away from Shoko’s view. “You wouldn’t get it.” Is the last thing he says before he pokes his tongue out at the woman and ducks out of sight.

“Oh, really?” She says, rising to her feet but making no moves to follow you both out the door.

“You don’t even put your own two cents during our regular team meetings! There’s literally nothing for you to discuss, Satoru.” You hear her call after him as he guides you down the hall, past the elevators and toward his big office.

If only she knew how true that statement would be.

Gojo hates meetings. They always happen at inconvenient moments and eat up way too much of his precious time. It’s time that he could be spending doing something else… or someone. 

Which is why this “emergency meeting” was different.

If someone had told Gojo Satoru several months ago that his favourite employee, his darling assistant would be seated pliant for him on his expensive Birch Lane executive desk he would have laughed in their face with a furious blossoming blush nipping at his neck.

But right now, there’s nothing to laugh about.

Gojo’s watching you closely in the shaded dark of his room, tracking every subtle shift in your body language for any indication that you may be uncomfortable and change your mind at the last minute. But when you wrap an arm around his neck, slotting him closer in between your legs, he realizes he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Something in the air felt different. It was thicker. Electric. 

Gojo knew in an instant he wouldn’t last when your lips ghost the words, “This doesn’t mean I’m changing my mind,” on his mouth, before tipping his head to the side, giving you the space to slot your lips with his.

Game fucking over.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t able to completely get you to change your mind about working with him and his department.

But this?

You whimper into his mouth when his hands skim down back and cheekily resting right above your ass. Your body warms underneath the palm of his hands with every touch and how he kneads your hips tucked away beneath your business casual attire.

Gojo Satoru had won in his own right.

Your breaths come quicker as he steals them from you, his left-hand squeezes your side while the other slides across your lower belly and traces the hem of your blouse.

“Take this off,” he commands, his voice wrecked with reckless abandon. His forefinger hooks on the band of your pants, in a pathetic attempt to pull them down despite not having undone your button and zipper. His air of frustration is not lost on you when you see the slight furrow in his brows, the more he pulls but to no avail of getting you in a state of undress.

Not wanting to lose the momentum you both have, you unhook your arm from his shoulders to give him a helping hand.

“Relax,” you say, softly nudging his hands away from your clothing. He hungrily eyes how you pop the button of your dress pants and shuck them onto the floor. 

Once that was off though, everything came into sharp focus, and Gojo’s breath caught in his throat. 

There’s almost a crazed look in his eye the more he stares at your clothed cunt unblinking, unmoving. His breathing’s gone a bit ragged, and every so often you feel the twitch of his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh.

It was a bad idea, considering how the sight of your panties alone had him this rigid, this excited. But he still grits out a rough, “Lemme see.”

Slowly, you pull your laced underwear to the side and Gojo's teeth dig into his inner cheek at the sight. His hands mark a slow path from your thighs down to your knees, pushing them wide apart so that he could see more of you. 

The delicate spread of your folds had your boss entranced. Gojo has seen and salivated over the various outfits you wore to the workplace, always wondering what was underneath before he deemed such thoughts as inappropriate and immediately started thinking about something else. But now that he sees it for himself, it was all too tantalizing. He wanted to see all of you, taste all of you.

The tuft of snow-white hair that once obscured your vision is now gone, sinking lower to your lap.

“Oh!” you exclaim loudly at his sudden movement. Shocked by how quickly he came down to eye level with your pussy.  “You don’t—” you stammer, swallowing hard as all the blood rushed to your head. Instinctively, you snap your legs shut in a weak attempt to shield yourself from his intense, unwavering gaze. “You don’t have to do that!” 

Having one of Japan’s richest, self-made men drop down to his knees staring fervently at your cunt through you in for a loop. You’re sure by now the expression face was no less than gobsmacked right now.

Gojo’s hand grasps one of your calves, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over your warm skin before he hooks it over his shoulder leaning closer to you. “What do you mean?” 

Pulling you closer to his face, you’re forced to plant your other foot onto the ground for stability. “This!” you hiss out, tone laced with embarrassment and arousal as your finger points between his face and your body. “It’s unbecoming, you don’t have to do that to get me off. Really!”

“Why not?”

You don’t have to say what you’re thinking out loud. You were his assistant for fuck’s sake! 

You’re sure what you two are doing would be an issue with some legal policy with the company. But then again… Gojo Satoru is the founder and CEO of said company so he can technically get away with one or two things. But—

Sensing your hesitancy, Gojo’s eyes soften when he looks up at you. “Just… forget the formalities for a sec, will you?” he implores, strong hands grazing up to your knees again hoping you wouldn’t be stubborn with him this one time. “Please? I want to do this for you.”

You look searchingly into his eyes before you finally mellow out. Feeling you relax in his hold and your thighs lose that tension, that was enough of a green light for Satoru before his mouth skims along the mound of pussy. Each kiss he pressed lovingly against your skin, left you shivering in their wake. 

It wasn’t long before his tongue, firm and slick, pokes out and licks a long, slow stripe up your slit which has you keening. You feel his lips twist into a smug smile when he hears the broken sound of his first name from above him.

“Hm?” he hums, still mouthing at your pussy which encourages another ragged moan from you. “Am I doing good so far?”

You don’t know why he even bothered asking, considering the sheen shine of your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Nonetheless, you give him the answer he patiently waits for.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moaning again when the tip of his tongue circles your sensitive clit. 

And it all becomes too much when his hand abandons supporting your leg on his shoulder, to skate its way up your thigh and toward your pussy. The combination of his forefinger rubbing tight, intricate shapes on your clit and his mouth working you open have you yelping from overstimulation. 

You press your palm against Gojo’s forehead when the heat in your lower belly runs hotter, successfully pushing his face away.

“Not like this,” you protested weakly, your hand smooths down from his face to grip his shoulders. There’s a light flush that peaks beneath the collar of his shirt. He looks absolutely debauched right now. “I want you.”

With the cuff of his sleeve, Gojo wipes your arousal off the bottom half of his face. Unhooking your legs from him, you're left to shakily stand on your own, with nothing but the support of his desk to keep you upright.

“Alright,” he breathes, smiling at how your eyes follow the way his hands undo the expensive black Ferragamo belt on his waist. “How do you want me then?” 

“Um…” You look around the place for feasible places for you to get fucked on. Crude, but true. 

Behind Gojo is his office chair rolled back, looking vacant and lonely. “We could do it on the chair?” you suggest, eyes twinkling at your proposal. “If you want?”

“You want to ride me?” he asks, a proud smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

Your air of confidence softens into something more breathless and vulnerable which has his heart surging with reckless affection. “Don’t make it weird!” you yelp, giving his shoulder a light shove.

Dragging the chair closer, Gojo chuckles at how quick you are to change moods. “Come,” he says once he has sat down, patting his lap with one hand while the other pulls himself free from his boxers and slacks. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”

You don’t know what turns you on more: A) the way he’s speaking so dirty, so obscene with you right now or B) the sight of Satoru’s cock smacking against the pale, creamy space of his exposed lower abdomen. You stare at it for too long, the build-up of saliva gathering in your mouth the more you stare at his thick and hard shaft, occasionally bobbing on its own under your intense glare.

You could die and go to heaven right now.

Gojo’s hands grab your waist and pull you closer to him. Running your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you twist around so that you’re back is now facing him as you prepare to take him all in.

“No, no, no, no,” he rushes out when you’re about to sit down on his lap facing away from him. Within seconds, Gojo has you facing him. He grasps the back of your knee and tugs it to his side, pushing the armrest out of the way and does the same with the other. 

Oh! You didn’t know it could do that. 

“I wanna see you,” he murmurs, once you’re now straddling his lap and hovering mere inches away from his erection. His free hand moves between your bodies and grabs the base of his cock and angles it toward your slit.

“Oh.” You feel giddy. The noticeable brush of his tip stroking along your slick folds only adds to that dizzying sensation. “Yeah, I’m—”

When the head of Gojo’s cock slowly starts to push inside of you, your sentence is cut off by a broken moan emitted from the back of your throat.

With his eyes closed, there’s a lazy smile that spreads across Gojo’s mouth as he breathes out a heavy groan once he’s all the way inside you. “Yeeeah,” he whispers, the pads of his fingertips pushing tight against your bare skin.

You bite your lip and experiment with this position. Lifting your hips slightly before you sink back down, Gojo buries his face into your neck and breathes, ragged and heavy.

So much for wanting to see you.

“Shit,” you hear him hiss, as he blindly gropes at your ass, working your body to continue to slide up and down his hard cock. The heat of you had him seeing stars as searing pleasure tore through him.

Whimpering, you clench onto firm biceps, enjoying the shallow strokes he pushes into you.

It’s incoherent at first. However, when you tumble out a dazed huh? so that you could hear him repeat whatever he had said, Satoru's lips parted in ecstasy. “I forgot,” he choked out, voice raw and unhinged.

Gently tugging him away from your neck, your core tightened at the fucked out expression on his face. Curious eyes trail down to his stomach and how with each pump inside you, his muscles involuntarily spasm.

“The condom,” he states, slowing down his fevered pace. “I forgot…”

If it were anyone else, you would’ve hopped right the fuck off their lap with panic, body tense over the fact of how careless you were being.

But surprisingly there were no alarm bells and no flashing red lights in your mind. If anything your blood ran a little hotter, the need and tightness in your core taking over.

You don’t know you have it in you to completely stop everything in a search for a condom you don’t even know he might have.

“Pull out then,” is all you say before you begin to ride him again.

Gojo can definitely get behind that. He’s not complaining if it meant he got to have you completely raw.

Your pussy swallows his cock, and Satoru gathers up the bottom of his shirt— wrinkling it in the process— so that he could see the way he disappears inside you over and over.

When he shifts his gaze back up again so he can take in the expression you might be wearing, Gojo’s surprised to see you already looking at him.

There’s an adorable tinge to your lips that has Gojo flitting his gaze back to them every damn time he tries to make eye contact with you as he fucks himself sweetly into your pussy.

He’s overcome with the strong urge to kiss you. To cross the small width of space between your mouths.

So, he does.

His brow bumping yours, Gojo’s hands return to your ass and he stands up with you in his embrace. The cold press of his desk accosts you as he uses his weight to push you slowly onto your back. 

“Satoru,” you sigh your boss’s name blissfully once his lips leave yours to press them along the curve of your jaw before pulling away.

“I wanted this to be nicer,” he says, brilliant blue eyes glittering down at you through the sex-soaked shadows. His hips don’t stop pistoning in and out of you, and he exhales a particularly harsh hiss when he feels you squeeze around him. “Nicer than here.”

You drag in a breath at his sentence, its implications not lost on you. He’s thought about this before. “It's okay, there's always another time.” 

Satoru hums appreciatively, seemingly pleased with your answer. After leaning in for one last kiss, he brushed his mouth from yours and announced in a voice you barely recognize, “I’m gonna come.”

Propping yourself onto your elbows, you nod at him. “Pull out then.”

“Are you sure?” 

 Stuck between the incredulous look painted across your features and how your nails press a little tighter into his skin, Gojo listens. Not without hissing out a disgruntled, “Fine.”

Pulling out from your wet pussy, Gojo’s hand wraps around his dick and he strokes it fast and hot. He growls with sharp relief when you reach a hand down to massage his sac. He thinks he may come all over you if you continue doing that.

“Fuck,” he snarls when your fingers graze the base of his cock. 

Cracking his eyes open, he messily knocks your hand away from him before intertwining his fingers with yours and grabbing himself with his free hand, stroking hard and fast. Every so often his tip would intentionally rub up and press against your nub, successfully stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves with the main goal to climax.

With every pent-up thought he’s had about you, Gojo finally comes with you in tow. His cum dribbles out from his slit and lands on your skin— mostly between your inner thighs and folds.

“So,” Gojo starts, his hands wandering up to the middle of your back after a few moments of comfortable shared silence between you two. As much as he wanted to relax in your post-sex session and bask in its warm glow, he had to address the elephant in the room.

You hum in response as you work the buttons of your blouse, waiting for him to continue. “When you said ‘next time’, did you seriously mean t—” 

The two of you abruptly jump apart at the telltale sound of heels clicking down the hall drawing closer and closer to Gojo’s office door. In a panic, you leap off his desk, sending a flurry of sheets flying down to the floor into a sorry pile. 

“Nice going,” Gojo remarks with a sly grin, as you hurriedly shimmy your pants up your legs. The sheen layer of sweat— among other things— makes it a bit difficult for you to easily slip them on.

Once they’re settled at your hips and you tend to the zip, you cast a withering glare his way, you’re relieved to see that he’s already tucked himself away into his pants, already looking presentable by the time the door opens.

With the click of the lock giving way, you hear a woman starkly ask, “Why are all the lights off?”

You could pinpoint that voice from a kilometre away. 

Turning on your heel, you see the shadowy figure of one of your closest colleagues in the dark of the room. “Utahime!”

When the head director steps into the room and flicks on the lights, the sudden brightness has you squinting your eyes a bit. Upon catching your gaze she offers you a sincere smile, visibly lighting up at the sight of you.  

But it doesn’t last long because seconds after her smile morphs into a displeased scowl when she spots Gojo lounging boneless in his office chair a few feet away.

“And why’s it so…” Utahime fans a delicate hand in front of her face, casting a weary gaze at you two from across the room. “Warm in here?” she questions no one in particular.

Her eyes take in the setting before her, and she pauses in her tracks. You could only imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind.

“What hap—”

“—It’s warm?! I couldn’t even tell!” you respond, a bit too chipper as you cut her line of questioning off. A bit too fast. 

From behind you, you hear Gojo’s stifled laughter that’s covered by poorly by a ridiculous attempt at a coughing fit.

“Well,” you wring your hands together subconsciously, “what brings you here?”

Noticing your off demeanour, Utahime fixes you with a puzzled look that reads as if she were asking you "are you okay?" as your plastered smile only grows more strained by the second.

“I came here to grab your reports and documentation from Gojo’s outbox, but somebody,” cue Satoru slipping on his signature shades to deflect the icy stare Utahime was housing, “forgot to put them there. Hence why I’m here.”

“Oh, right!” Gojo hums, rolling back from his desk as he reaches down to gather the scattered sheets that had fallen to the floor. “They’re all here.”

You both watch in shared silence as he flips through each page, meticulously setting each one aside that wasn’t labeled with your name on the header. 

Thrown off by how long he’s deliberately taking in smoothing out the crinkles on each page, the older woman stomps up to Gojo and unceremoniously slaps her hand on the wooden table. “Give me that, will you?!” she exclaims, snatching and wrestling the papers out from his hands.

“Ah! Wait—”

Scanning the pages your department leader seems content that everything’s in order.

Until it's not?

The woman’s once sunny and bright disposition suddenly flips on his head, as there seems to be something written on that page midway that makes her freeze.

“Go ahead and hand me a new copy,” Utahime says, practically tossing the sheets of paper back onto his desk without a second glance. She smooths her hands down the silky expanse of her long skirt, once, twice, then three times for good measure. “I want it in my inbox by next Monday.”

She nods curtly at you before she turns and practically books it to his door. You don’t know why but you swear you saw the faintest hue of pink tickling the apples of her cheeks. There was also an expression that couldn’t quite put your finger on that highlighted her features. 

If you were to say though, her emotion looked between the mix of detachment, embarrassment… wait, no. It was mortification.

But what was there to be mortified over?  

“What’s wrong with the copy you gave her?”

Gojo presses his lips together in a sad attempt to keep his smile at bay as he hands it over to you to see for yourself.

Eyebrows furrowed, you skim each sheet. You don’t get it. What’s the problem with—

That’s until you notice that some of the pages are sticking together. It’s on the third page you see it and understand why Utahime was in such a rush to leave. Why she kept wiping her hands onto her clothing.

Right there among the printed hiragana and kanji was a few small white streaks of fluid covering bolded characters and numbers. 

Oh no.

“Y’know…” The sleeve of his dress shirt rests along your neck as his hand squeezes at your shoulder. Delicate fingers slide against your bare skin and pull at the strap of your bra, successfully tucking it underneath your blouse again. Had that been poking out the entire time?!  “I knew it would’ve been a good idea to finish inside.”

Horrified that you’d have to deal with the information of going back to Utahime next week knowing that she knows what you guys did, has you burying your face into Gojo’s chest and letting out a muffled scream.

“Just saying!”

FIN

i don't know how to stay within the maximum word count for the life of me... i'm not sorry!

also there's probably errors in this as i wrote it very hurriedly YOINKIES... ILL FIX EM TMRW IN THE MEANTIME THANKS FOR READINGGG

[sukurena-deactivated20260124]

･ ⟢ ⋮ synopsis . . . you go over to your best friend yuji’s house for dinner… only to find his older brother sukuna is home from college for the first time in a few years. taller, tattooed, pierced, and annoyingly unreadable, he looks nothing like the boy you grew up with—and he won’t stop staring at you like you’ve changed too.

tags .ᐟ 7.1k. reader & sukuna are both in college. nsfw. best friend's other brother. oral m & f. dry hump lol. unprotected sex. creampie. missionary. size kink. dirty talk. light dom. praise kink. teasing. arm pinning. post sex teasing. kinda possessive behavior? unedited per usual, cause we don't believe in that over here !!

you’ve been in their house since you were old enough to walk. same backyard. same childhood summers. same loud dinners where yuji talked with his mouth full and sukuna pretended he wasn’t listening even though he always was.

yuji was your best friend before you even understood what best friends were. sukuna was the older one—a few grades ahead, always taller, always heavier-footed, always lurking on the edges of things like he’d been born allergic to attention.

the three of you were tangled together in that inevitable, you-grew-up-next-door kind of way. not siblings, not cousins, not childhood sweethearts. just that messy, familiar constellation of people you simply belonged to.

and then sukuna left.

not dramatically. not with some sentimental goodbye. he just packed up after graduation and went off to college out of state—far, far away—leaving you and yuji to finish growing up without him.

you didn’t think about him much after that. or at least you told yourself you didn’t.

until today.

you walk into yuji’s house the same way you always do—kicking off your shoes, calling out that you brought notes for the class he skipped again—and then you freeze.

because someone else is standing at the end of the hallway.

sukuna's home.

and looking at you like the past few years didn’t exist at all—like he just stepped out for a minute instead of vanishing into adulthood and coming back built like a warning sign.

you freeze.

because he isn’t the same person who left. not even close.

he’s taller now—like he grew an extra inch or two just to spite you. broad shoulders filling out the doorway, chest built in the intimidating way that says hours in the gym, not a single selfie to prove it. his hoodie clings to his arms in a way it never used to, sleeves shoved up to reveal thick forearms covered in black ink that wasn’t there before. sharp lines trailing up his veins and disappearing beneath cotton.

and his face—god.

there’s a new weight to it. a grown-man kind of sharpness. jawline hard enough to cut your breath in half. cheekbones more defined. his mouth softer than it should be on someone who looks like this.

plus the metal.

an eyebrow piercing splits the dark line above his left eye—subtle, but impossible to ignore. a thin silver hoop sits snug on his bottom lip, glinting every time he shifts his expression. a couple more studs line his ear, climbing the curve of cartilage in a way that draws your eyes before you can stop yourself.

he went from “yuji’s older brother who never talks” to “the man you’d cross the street for, just to look at again.”

he doesn’t say hi. doesn’t smile.

he just tilts his head a fraction, eyes dragging over you in one slow pass that feels too intimate to be accidental—like he’s comparing you to old versions in his head and finding the differences one by one.

“you got taller,” he mutters, voice deeper now, rougher around the edges.

your pulse spikes. “no i didn’t,” you say too quickly, heat crawling up your throat.

his tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek, right behind the silver hoop in his lip, and the faint sound he makes could be a laugh or a warning. you can’t tell which.

he steps closer. slowly.

the hallway shrinks around him like the walls are trying to pull away first. he’s buffer now—thick chest, defined arms, long legs moving with that confidence he never had when he was younger. his presence alone makes the air feel heavier.

“sure you didn’t,” he says, voice dropping into something low enough to curl at the base of your spine. “go on and lie to me.”

you swallow hard. “is... yuji inside?”

his eyes don’t leave yours—not even for a second. “kitchen. he’s been whining that you’re late.”

you try to step past him, but sukuna doesn’t move.

not an inch.

he stands there like a wall you’re meant to run into. like he’s doing it on purpose. like he wants to feel you brush against him, just to see what you’d do.

he’s always been like this—annoyingly still, annoyingly composed, annoyingly aware of how much space he takes up.

but now?

he’s all that, plus the tattoos, plus the muscle, plus the piercings, plus the kind of grown-man weight that makes your breath hitch.

you barely manage to slip past sukuna—your shoulder brushing his chest as you squeeze through the hallway. he doesn’t move, doesn’t step aside, doesn’t even pretend to give you space. he just watches you go, silent and heavy-eyed, like he’s cataloguing the way your breath stutters when you pass him.

you pretend you don’t notice. you pretend a lot of things. you step into the kitchen with a too-bright smile, dropping your bag onto the counter.

“ok,” you exhale, forcing lightness into your voice, “lecture notes time.”

yuji lights up like you just handed him free money. “finally! dude, this professor hates me, i swear.”

you snort. “he doesn’t hate you, he just knows you don’t shut up in class.”

yuji splutters, offended, and launches into a rant about how the classroom was “way too quiet” without him and how he’s basically “providing a public service.” you roll your eyes. you’ve missed this.

you spread out your notebooks on the table, walking him through everything he missed—slides, examples, the weird tangent your professor went on about life choices and statistics. yuji listens, nodding furiously, asking questions in the loudest voice anyone has ever used in a kitchen.

it’s normal. comfortable. easy.

but your head?

not easy. not comfortable.

because you can’t stop thinking about the man standing in the hallway.

the way sukuna looked at you like he was trying to match this version of you to the one he left behind.

the way he took up the entire hallway without trying. the way the metal in his lip caught the light. the tattoos. the build. the voice.

you try focusing on the material. you really do.

but yuji is halfway through copying something when you completely lose your train of thought, brain short-circuiting at the memory of sukuna stepping closer, the hallway shrinking around him, his arm brushing yours.

“uh… hello?” yuji waves a hand in front of your face. “earth to braincell.”

you blink. “sorry, i—just tired.”

“you should be! bro, you’ve been explaining this for like an hour.” yuji glances at the clock. “holy crap, it’s actually been an hour.”

you laugh, rubbing your eyes. it has gotten later than you thought. the sun’s gone down, the kitchen’s dimmer, warmer. the house feels too quiet.

yuji scratches his cheek and looks sheepish. “hey… uh… you wanna stay for dinner? i was gonna make something anyway, and it’s already late.”

stay.

the word sinks in. you open your mouth out of habit to decline—because you always do, because you have homework, because you’re busy—but you don’t say no.

because you know who else is here. who else you’ll end up near. who else is still lingering somewhere in this house with a pierced lip and a stare that won’t get out of your head.

you swallow. “yeah. sure. i can stay.”

yuji brightens again. “sweet! i’ll throw something together.”

you nod, biting back a smile as he rummages through the fridge.

you tell yourself it’s just dinner. just catching up. just a normal night. but your pulse tells a different story.

you don’t know what game sukuna’s playing now that he’s home…

…but you’re pretty sure he expects you to play it too.

yuji is humming to himself as he cooks—off-key, loud, cheerful in the way only he can be. pans clatter, spices get overused, something sizzles a little too aggressively, but it’s comforting.

you sit at the kitchen table, chin resting on your hand, pretending to scroll your phone. pretending to be normal.

but your ears are tuned to the hallway.

and when you hear slow, heavy footsteps approaching, your breath catches in your throat before you can stop it.

you don’t need to look to know who it is.

sukuna enters the kitchen like he owns the space—tall, broad, tattooed arms visible where he shoved his sleeves up again. his lip ring catches the warm kitchen light as he presses his tongue against it, like he’s distracting himself from saying something.

or from staring.

he doesn’t say anything right away. he just pulls out a chair. right across from you, of course.

your heartbeat jumps. you’re grateful yuji is too busy murdering whatever’s in the frying pan to notice anything weird.

sukuna sits slowly, legs spread under the table like he’s claiming territory. his posture is relaxed—leaned back, arms loose—but his eyes?

fixed on you.

not soft nor nostalgic—but assessing and curious in a way that makes goosebumps rise on your arms.

you try to look away first. you don’t succeed.

he breaks the silence with a low, too-casual, “he’s really makin’ you do his classwork for him?”

you blink. “i’m not—i’m just helping him catch up.”

he hums under his breath, that amusement back in his voice, coating every syllable in something mocking. “helpin’ him, huh. you always were too nice.”

“am not,” you mutter.

“yeah,” he says, leaning forward just a little. “you are.”

your stomach flips in a way you refuse to acknowledge.

before you can snap back, yuji turns around with triumph in his eyes and a plate in each hand.

“dinner is SERVED,” he declares proudly.

you and sukuna both watch the plate hit the table with a little too much force.

“you didn’t burn anything this time,” sukuna notes.

“shut up, bro,” yuji grins.

bro.

right. they’re brothers. the kind with the same house and the same history but completely different worlds carved out inside them.

yuji sits beside you—your usual seating arrangement—leaving sukuna directly across from you.

it’s torture.

you try to focus on dinner, but the food tastes like nothing. you’re too aware of the man in front of you. of the way his hand dwarfs his fork. of the tattoos that crawl up his veins, ink meeting sinew. of the metal on his face catching light every time he shifts. of the quiet way he eats—unlike yuji, who practically inhales his food.

at some point, sukuna leans back, eyes still on you, elbow resting on the back of his chair. he doesn’t speak. doesn’t interrupt yuji’s excited retelling of a stupid class story.

he just watches you. until you squirm.

you hate that he sees it. you drop your gaze to your plate.

but then, under the table—something brushes your ankle. you jolt subtly, knee bumping the underside of the table.

yuji doesn’t notice, but sukuna smiles. a slow smile that feels like it’s meant to unravel you one string at a time.

he doesn’t pull away.

his foot stays there—resting against yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you try to move your foot back. he follows. pressing gently.

your breath stutters. your fork pauses mid-air.

“you okay?” yuji asks through a mouthful of food.

“fine,” you choke.

sukuna’s eyes drop to your throat, watching it move as you swallow. then he tilts his head and mouths something silently—so only you can see it.

don’t run.

your heart slams. you force yourself to finish your meal, though you don’t taste a damn thing.

yuji finally exhales loudly, rubbing his stomach. “okay, i’m gonna grab the drinks—don’t eat my dessert while i’m gone.”

he gets up and disappears into the fridge.

the moment he’s out of earshot, the tension in the room snaps tight.

sukuna leans forward just slightly, voice low enough that it feels like a touch on your skin.

“you’re real bad at hiding shit,” he murmurs.

you grip your fork. “hiding what?”

he raises a brow. “the way you’ve been lookin’ at me since you walked in.”

your breath falters.

he smiles. “didn’t look at me like that when i left.”

you want to deny it. you want to throw something at him. you want to run.

instead, all you manage is a tiny, pathetic, “…shut up.”

his eyes soften for half a second—amusement, victory, something else you can’t name—and then he drags his foot lightly up your calf under the table.

your pulse jumps.

yuji returns a moment later, completely oblivious, carrying three drinks like he’s hosting a banquet.

“okay! i got—hey, why are you two so quiet?”

you choke. “no reason.”

sukuna doesn’t even try to hide his smirk.

yuji doesn’t even make it to dessert.

one minute he’s talking through a mouthful of food, and the next he’s curled sideways on the couch in the living room, face pressed into a pillow, snoring softly like someone unplugged him mid-sentence.

you stare at him for a second and sigh. “…he lasted longer than usual.”

from behind you, sukuna’s voice is low and way too entertained. “don’t give him that much credit.”

you ignore the way your stomach flutters and start clearing the plates, stacking yours on top of yuji’s, gathering forks, pushing crumbs into your palm. it feels safer to have your hands busy—something to do besides think about sukuna or how his eyes followed you all dinner.

the kitchen is dimmer now, warm under the stove light. quiet except for the clink of dishes. yuji’s muffled snoring drifts in from the living room. the air feels thick, heavy with end-of-night softness.

you bend over to load the dishwasher, reaching for a plate on the bottom rack…

…and that’s when you hear them.

slow footsteps behind you.

you feel him before he speaks—heat at your back, the faint brush of air as he exhales, the subtle shift of the room around someone as big as him.

“you really doing the dishes?” he says, voice low enough to curl behind your ear. “yuji’s not even awake to witness it.”

you roll your eyes at the plate in your hand. “i’m being nice.”

“you always were.”

your stomach dips.

you reach farther into the dishwasher, bending a little more, muttering, “it’s fine, i don’t mind—”

that’s when it happens.

you feel it—a slow nudge at your backside. a hip bump. not subtle. nowhere near being accidental. you gasp and straighten halfway before you even think about it.

“the fuck—?”

you turn, and sukuna is standing right behind you, way too close, one eyebrow piercing lifting as he drags his hips back a couple inches… only to roll them forward again—slow, exaggerated, mocking in the rudest possible way.

a fucking air-hump. right into your ass.

you choke on your own breath. “what—what are you doing?” you hiss, eyes wide, hands still gripping a fork like you’re about to duel him with it.

“correcting your form,” he says casually, gesturing at the dishwasher. “you’re bendin’ like you want attention.”

“i was not bending like that,” you whisper harshly.

he steps forward half an inch—just enough to feel the heat of him against your back.

“you kinda were,” he murmurs.

your pulse hits dangerous levels.

you turn to shove him away—at least that’s the plan—but he catches your wrist, grip firm but not tight, eyes dropping to your mouth for a split second before flicking back up like he didn’t mean to.

“relax,” he says, voice dropping into something warm, amused, and infuriatingly soft. “if i wanted to actually fuck with you, sweetheart… you’d know.”

your knees nearly give out. you pretend they don’t.

you rip your hand back. “yuji’s in the next room.”

sukuna lifts a brow. “and?”

you glare. “so don’t be an asshole.”

“can’t help it.” he leans closer, voice brushing your neck. “you bring it outta me.”

you swallow hard, turning back to the dishwasher because looking at him is dangerous.

he watches you for a moment with a silent, heavy gaze, dragging across your back as you finish stacking plates.

then you feel his breath near your ear again. “finish up,” he murmurs, something darker slipping into his tone. “i’m not done with you.”

you grip the dishwasher door until your knuckles ache. and yuji keeps snoring, completely unaware that his older brother is behind you, smirking like he knows exactly how fast your heart is pounding.

you wipe your hands on the dish towel, fingers still slightly trembling from whatever the hell that “airhump” was supposed to be. you tell yourself it was stupid, meaningless, not worth thinking about—and then your stomach twists, proving you wrong immediately.

yuji is passed out on the couch, one arm over his face, snores muffled by the pillow he stole from your house. his soft breathing fills the otherwise quiet house, the kind of nighttime silence that makes everything else feel louder. heavier.

you sling your bag over your shoulder, take a steadying breath, and tell yourself you’re fine. you survived dinner. you survived sukuna staring at you like he was trying to decide whether to devour you or laugh at you. you can survive saying a polite goodnight.

you move down the hallway, footsteps soft on the carpet. you pass the bathroom, the closet, the familiar creak in the floorboard near yuji’s door, and then—you reach sukuna’s room.

you only mean to look in. just a glance. just a “later” or a “bye.”

you don’t even get that far.

a hand wraps around your wrist and yanks—not painfully, but efficiently, like he’s practiced the motion a thousand times. you stumble forward, and before you can catch your balance, he pulls you into his room and shuts the door with a quiet, final click.

your back hits the wall. not hard. just enough that you gasp, the shock traveling all the way to your knees. when you blink up, sukuna is standing inches from you, one hand braced beside your head, the other still loosely around your wrist as if waiting to see if you’ll run.

his room smells like soap and darker elements—cedar, smoke, warm skin. it hits you all at once, settling under your ribs, making it far too hard to breathe normally.

“you were really gonna leave without saying anything to me?” he asks, voice almost amused.

“i—i didn’t wanna wake yuji,” you manage, even though you’re suddenly very aware of the fact that you can’t look him in the eyes without feeling too much.

“that so?” he murmurs, leaning in just slightly. “’cause you walked past my door real fast. almost like you were trying to escape.”

you try to step to the side, but he shifts with you, blocking the one direction you might’ve slipped away. his body doesn’t press into you, but it hangs close enough that you feel the heat of him, the quiet intensity that wasn’t there when he was younger. everything about him feels deliberate now. intentional.

“i wasn’t escaping,” you say softly. “i was leaving.”

“mm.” he tilts his head just a little, eyes dragging over your face. “and here i thought you’d at least say bye before running.”

“i wasn’t runni—”

“you were.” the faintest smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he adds, “you still do that.”

you swallow hard. “do what?”

sukuna’s gaze slides from your eyes to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long. “get shy.”

the breath you take isn’t steady. not even close. he notices—of course he notices—and his fingers release your wrist only to settle at your waist instead, warm and sending a rush of awareness straight through your core.

“i’m not shy,” you whisper, even though your whole body betrays you.

his smile grows—not cocky, but like he just solved some puzzle that only he was working on. “yeah,” he says, voice dropping, lips brushing the edge of your cheekbone as he speaks, “you are.”

his hand slides up your hip, light but purposeful, guiding you just the slightest bit closer until his chest nearly touches yours. only an inch of air separates your bodies, and it’s unbearable.

“you didn’t look at me like that when i left,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your jaw.

“like what?” it comes out barely audible.

“like you want me to kiss you.”

your stomach drops. your face heats. your throat tightens with something impossible to name. you almost deny it—you should deny it—but the words won’t come.

and something in your silence tells him everything.

sukuna’s thumb traces the line of your jaw, slow enough to make your breath catch. “say it,” he whispers.

you shake your head. your heart is pounding too fast to speak.

“didn’t think so,” he says, eyes half-lidded. “good thing i don’t need you to.”

before you can react, he closes the distance—letting you feel every second of it. his mouth brushes yours once, soft, testing. your breath rises sharply. he waits, like he’s giving you a chance to pull away.

you don’t.

your fingers curl into the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer without thinking, and that’s all it takes. sukuna kisses you fully then—deep, warm, devastatingly slow. the kind of kiss that feels like it’s been many years overdue. the kind that steals your breath so quietly you don’t notice until you’re gasping into him.

he hums against your mouth, one hand sliding to the back of your neck, tipping your head the way he wants, his lips moving against yours with ease that makes your knees weak.

when he finally breaks the kiss, he stays close, forehead brushing yours, breaths mingling. “there you go,” he murmurs, voice roughened by restraint. “finally got you to stop pretending.”

your eyes flutter open.

his are already on you, hungry for the next bite.

“you should’ve said goodbye earlier,” he adds softly. “i wouldn’t have let you leave.”

the first kiss is nothing compared to the second.

the moment he hears your breath hitch right against his mouth—sukuna cups the side of your neck, fingers sliding under your jaw, and pulls you back into him. no hesitation this time. no testing. he kisses you like he’s been denying himself the thought of it for years and finally gave in.

your back presses harder into the wall as his mouth moves against yours—slow at first, savoring, learning every tiny sound you make. his lips part just enough to taste you, and when your tongue brushes his, something low and electric shoots through both of you.

he makes a quiet sound in the back of his throat. you feel it more than hear it.

his free hand slides to your waist, then your hip, then down to the curve of your thigh, gripping just enough to pull you up into his kiss. your hands rise on instinct, fists curling in the fabric of his hoodie, anchoring yourself to him like you’re afraid you’ll fall.

you don’t even realize you’re trembling until he notices.

“easy,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice low, impossibly gentle for someone who looks like him. “breathe.”

you try. you fail.

and he clearly likes it.

he catches your wrists when you try to pull him closer, fingers wrapping around both, guiding your hands up over your head and pressing them into the wall above you. the movement is slow, controlled, the kind you could fight if you wanted to… but you don’t.

you let him pin you there, wrists held in one of his hands, bodies flush, heat rolling between you in waves.

“that’s better,” he whispers, lips brushing your cheekbone as he drags a kiss down to your jaw. “keep ’em there.”

your breath stutters again, a soft, pathetic little exhale you can’t swallow down fast enough. he hears it. he smiles against your skin.

“knew you’d be like this,” he whispers. “knew it.”

he kisses your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth—then dips lower, to the side of your neck. his lips are warm at first, barely pressure, barely there… and then he sucks.

your knees threaten to buckle. he feels it, and pushes his thigh between yours—not hard, just enough to keep you standing, enough to drag a shaky breath out of you.

“still shy?” he asks against your throat.

you shake your head, even though you definitely are.

he laughs quietly, the sound rumbling into your skin, before kissing lower—along the line of your neck, down your shoulder, back up again like he’s mapping you with his mouth.

your hands flex uselessly against the wall, wrists pinned in his grip. you can’t touch him. can’t pull him closer. can’t do anything except feel him.

and he takes full advantage.

he kisses up the column of your neck, slow and unhurried, until he reaches your ear.

his breath is warm when he speaks. “come here.”

he lets go of your wrists only so he can slip his hands around your waist and lift you—not fully off the ground, just enough that your balance shatters. he turns you easily, guiding you away from the wall and toward the bed behind him.

your back hits the mattress before you fully process the movement. sukuna stands over you for a moment, chest rising and falling, eyes dark, pupils blown.

you’ve never seen him look at anything the way he’s looking at you now. he leans down, bracing one knee on the bed, caging you in with his body.

“been thinkin’ about this all night,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair off your cheek before kissing you again—deeper this time, slower. “the way you looked at me… the way you kept pretending you weren’t.”

your fingers finally find his hoodie, grabbing it, pulling him down until he’s almost on top of you.

his hand slides up your thigh, over your hip, across your stomach, leaving heat everywhere he touches.

your breath is shaky, your heart out of control.

“just say it,” he whispers against your mouth. “say you want me.”

you don’t say it, but you kiss him like you do. and he takes that as an answer.

his hoodie comes off first.

you don’t even realize you’re tugging at it until he shifts, helping you peel it up over his head, revealing a solid, cut chest inked in black—tattoos wrapping his torso like armor, crawling up his sides and disappearing into the shadows of his collarbone.

he looks unreal in the low light, all sharp lines and sculpted heat, muscle flexing as he braces his hands on either side of you.

your eyes trail down without permission. the slope of his chest, the flex in his abs when he exhales, the deep cut of his hips narrowing into the waistband of his sweats. his lip glints when he smiles—barely there, cocky, knowing.

“that look better than you imagined?”

your breath catches. “shut up.”

his smile widens. “you didn’t say no.”

he leans down again—kisses you slow. your hands map over his chest now, feeling the warmth of him, the weight, the way he moves under your palms. he groans low when your nails scrape lightly across his abs.

“you tryna kill me, sweetheart?”

you grin against his mouth. “maybe.”

he chuckles. he kisses you again, this time harder, his tongue sliding against yours until you’re gasping. then his mouth moves down—neck, collarbone, sternum—lips dragging over skin like he’s starving for every inch.

his hands find the hem of your shirt. “this comes off,” he says, already tugging it up.

you arch slightly to help him. the shirt lands somewhere behind you. his eyes rake over your chest, and you swear he breathes deeper just looking at you.

“fuck,” he murmurs, mouth already lowering. “i missed a lot.”

he wraps his lips around the swell of your breast, tongue flicking once before he sucks. you jolt, hips twitching, a gasp spilling out of you before you can stop it. his teeth graze, soft but suggestive, before he switches sides—mouth worshiping, hands roaming your waist and hips like he’s trying to memorize you by touch alone.

“kuna—” your voice cracks. “s-stop teasing.”

he laughs against your skin. “thought you were shy.”

you shove at his shoulder. “not that shy.”

his eyes flash. “good.”

his hand slips down—under your waistband, fingers pressing between your thighs through your underwear. his touch is warm, rough, perfect.

you jolt. “oh my—”

“that’s more like it,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours again as he starts to rub slow circles over the damp fabric. “been wondering how you’d sound.”

your fingers dig into his arm, your hips lifting instinctively, chasing the rhythm of his hand. he watches you—fascinated, like he’s trying to sear the image into memory.

he drags the fabric aside and sinks a finger in. your mouth drops open, a soft, choked sound escaping. he groans low in his chest, eyes darkening.

“fuck, you’re soaked.”

you can’t answer. can’t think. can barely breathe.

he pumps his finger slow, then adds another—stretching you just enough to burn, just enough to make you whimper and clutch the sheets.

“that’s it,” he murmurs. “take it. knew you could.”

your hips stutter. he curls his fingers, and your whole body lights up.

“kuna—please—”

“what do you want, baby?” his mouth is at your ear again, tongue flicking the shell before he nips at it. “want me to keep playing with you? want more?”

you nod frantically. “yes—yes, more, i want—”

“say it.”

you whine, breathless. “i want you.”

he pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, eyes locked on yours. “good girl.”

he shifts lower like he’s been waiting all night to get between your thighs.

your breath catches when he drags your pants down alongside your underwear, slow enough to make you feel every inch of the fabric leaving your skin. he tosses them somewhere behind him without looking—eyes locked, laser-focused, hungry in a way that makes your whole body throb.

he spreads your knees with two fingers hooked behind them, guiding you open until you feel exposed in a way that isn’t embarrassing—just intimate. like he’s letting you know he wants all of you, every inch, every tremble, every breath.

“look at you,” he whispers, voice dark with awe that he’d never say out loud. “fuck.”

his thumb drags up your inner thigh, slow, reverent, as if he’s got all the time in the world and he’s choosing to spend every second right here.

you feel the heat of his breath first—right where you want him—before you feel his mouth.

he kisses the inside of your thigh, once, twice, lips warm, breath shaky like he’s the one barely holding it together. his fingers press into your skin like he’s steadying himself.

“been thinking about this,” he murmurs, kissing closer, “since dinner.”

your toes curl. “k-kuna…”

“shh.” he smiles against your skin. “i’m getting there.”

he moves in slowly, purposefully, hands sliding under your thighs to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. the motion is smooth, easy—he’s strong enough that he barely has to try. your breath skips.

his thumbs spread you open. his eyes drop.

he groans. audibly. “fuck… you’re perfect.”

and then he lowers his head.

his tongue slides through your folds in a slow, deliberate lick that makes your whole body jolt off the bed. your hand flies to his hair without permission, fingers threading through the soft strands as you gasp.

he groans again, deeper this time, like the taste of you just punched the air out of his lungs.

“shit, sweetheart,” he mumbles against you, voice muffled. “no wonder you were actin’ shy.”

he licks again—long, slow, savoring every inch—and you swear your vision fades at the edges.

you’re shaking. your thighs tense around his head instinctively, but he just smirks against you and presses them wider.

“keep ‘em open,” he murmurs, tongue dipping lower. “lemme eat.”

and then—then he really gets into it.

his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking gently, tongue flicking in a rhythm that feels too good too fast—your back arches, hands flying to the sheets.

“kuna—fuck—”

he moans like your voice is feeding him. the vibration makes your hips jerk.

he slides two fingers back inside you at the same time his tongue circles your clit—slow, curling right against that spot that makes your stomach twist.

your gasp turns into a broken whine.

“yeah,” he grunts softly, pumping his fingers deeper, “right there, huh? that’s where you start shaking?”

you whimper. that’s all it takes. he chuckles into you—a hot, smug, god of a sound—and curls his fingers harder.

your thighs tremble. “i’m—i’m gonna—”

“good,” he growls, dragging his tongue up before sucking your clit into his mouth again. “give it to me.”

your hand clamps around his hair. your whole body goes tight, and then you break.

your orgasm crashes through you so violently you cry out, thighs shaking uncontrollably around his head. sukuna doesn’t pull away. he holds you there, mouth working you through every wave, swallowing every sound you make.

“that’s it,” he whispers when you finally slump back, breathless, shaky. “good fuckin’ girl.”

you’re panting, still trembling as he kisses the inside of your thigh again, slow and soft now, letting you come down.

but he doesn’t move away. he crawls up your body, mouth warm, breath hot, chest brushing yours as he hovers above you.

he grabs your jaw gently, thumb rubbing your lower lip as he leans in, lips ghosting yours but not kissing yet.

“think you’re done?” he murmurs.

you stare at him, flushed, breath shallow. “i—i don’t know—”

his mouth curls into a slow grin. “you’re nowhere fuckin’ close.”

he kisses you finally—letting you taste yourself on his tongue, letting you feel exactly what he plans to do to you next. his hand wraps around your thigh, dragging it up around his hip.

you feel him—hard and heavy against you through his sweats. your skin burns with it. he doesn’t even have to move and you’re already clenching around nothing.

“‘m not stopping,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice low enough to vibrate in your chest. “til you beg.”

he catches your stare, eyes narrowing slightly like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. then he shifts back onto his heels and leans against the wall beside the bed, thighs spread wide, hand dragging down the front of his sweats.

your breath catches. he palms himself slow, watching you.

“c’mere,” he says, nodding down. “if you’re gonna be a brat about it, least you can do is put that mouth to use.”

your stomach flips.

you slide down to the floor, onto your knees between his legs, palms resting on his thighs. he watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, pupils blown wide, jaw tense like he’s holding himself back from saying something filthy.

you hook your fingers in the waistband of his sweats and pull them down just enough to free him.

your mouth parts.

he’s thick. flushed and heavy at the tip, veins trailing up the length, a glisten of precum already beading at the head. He wraps a hand around the base and gives it one lazy stroke before tapping it against your lips.

“open up.”

you do. immediately.

you wrap your lips around the tip and suck—slow, dragging your tongue over the underside. his groan is immediate,.

“fuck, that’s it,” he grits. “take it slow—lemme feel that tongue.”

you do.

you move down, inch by inch, working him deeper. spit pools at the corner of your mouth, his cock stretching your lips, pressing hot against your tongue. your hand wraps around what you can’t fit, stroking in time with your mouth.

his hand slides into your hair, not forcing—just holding, thumb brushing your cheekbone every time you take him a little deeper.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he mutters, voice ragged. “mouth full of cock, eyes all glassy—shit.”

you moan around him, and he bucks, hips twitching.

“you like that, huh?” he pants. “like suckin’ me while your pussy’s still throbbing from bein’ teased?”

you nod, tongue flicking over the tip when you come up for air. your lips are swollen, your chin wet, your breath shallow.

he grunts, tightening his fist in your hair. “shit—gonna cum if you keep that up—” and then he pulls you off, panting.

you blink, confused, lips parted.

“no,” he rasps. “not yet.”

he drags you up by your arms, effortlessly. his mouth already finding yours again as he pushes you back onto the bed. his cock, still slick with your spit, presses against your inner thigh.

“wanna cum inside you,” he murmurs between kisses, “wanna watch your face when i do.”

your breath stutters.

he parts your thighs with both hands, wide and greedy, and settles between them, cock dragging over your entrance—just once, just enough to make you gasp.

then he pushes in. stretching you open inch by inch until he bottoms out, forehead pressed to yours, breath ragged in your ear.

your back arches off the bed. your nails dig into his biceps. he’s so deep.

“fuck,” he groans. “this pussy—always meant to be mine.”

you gasp, hands scrambling to hold him closer.

his hand catches your jaw, tilting your head just slightly so he can see every shift in your expression.

“eyes on me,” he whispers. “wanna see you fall apart.”

and then he starts to move. his hips roll into yours with control that makes your toes curl—his cock dragging against every spot inside you, his mouth brushing yours every time he thrusts in.

“look at you,” he pants, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your mouth. “already fucked out and i haven’t even gotten started.”

you whimper, thighs shaking around his hips. “kuna—”

he hushes you with a kiss, and keeps fucking you through it, one hand curling around your waist, the other tangling in your hair.

“wanna see you cum like this,” he breathes. “right here, lookin’ at me. fallin’ apart on my cock.”

you’re already close. he knows.

his hips drag back just enough to make you whimper, then roll forward again, deep and heavy, grinding the base of his cock against your clit each time.

“you feel that?” he murmurs against your mouth. “feel how deep i am?”

you can’t answer. your eyes flutter. your thighs twitch. your breath keeps catching somewhere between your ribs and your throat.

he dips his head lower—kisses along your jaw, down your neck, tongue dragging lazily over your pulse.

“don’t go quiet now,” he growls. “wasn’t so shy with my cock in your mouth.”

your cheeks flush hotter. your hips buck up instinctively, chasing friction. he groans at the way you clench around him, hips stuttering.

“goddamn,” he mutters, pulling back to look at you. “you’re gonna cum just from this, huh? from me fuckin’ you slow and talkin’ to you?”

you nod, frantic, desperate, gasping when he changes the angle just slightly—grinding deeper, bottoming out again, your walls fluttering around him.

his hand slides down your side, firm and possessive. he grabs your thigh and pushes it up, folding you open even more, cock slipping in deeper than before.

your moan breaks right against his mouth.

“there,” he says—almost to himself. “that’s it. that’s where you like it.”

your hands clutch at his back, fingers sliding over warm skin, over shifting muscle, nails digging in when he thrusts just right again.

you feel it building. it coils low and hot, right behind your navel, pulsing with every drag of his cock, every filthy sound he makes in your ear.

he sees it too. his eyes lock on yours, dark and full of something you’ve never seen from him before—raw.

“close?” he asks, breathless.

you nod. “kuna—please—don’t stop—”

his forehead presses to yours, and he fucks you harder—still deep, but less controlled now, pace picking up.

“you gonna cum for me, baby?” he pants. “cum on my cock like a good girl?”

you nod again—choked, messy, right on the edge.

“look at me,” he growls. “when you cum, look at me.”

you do. and when he slams in one last time, angle perfect, pressure perfect—your whole body locks up.

the orgasm hits hard. your mouth falls open, breath shattering, eyes wide and glassy as you squeeze around him, wet and pulsing and uncontrollable.

“fuck—fuck,” he groans, losing rhythm. “that’s it—fuckin’ perfect—look at you—”

you cry out again, grabbing at him, trying to breathe, trying to stay conscious. he doesn’t stop moving—not until he’s right there with you.

“gonna cum inside you,” he mutters against your mouth. “want you full, dripping—”

you whimper, too far gone to answer. he thrusts once, twice—then buries himself deep and groans, low and animal, as he spills inside you.

he stays there, deep and still—chest heaving, arms shaking with the effort to keep himself from collapsing on top of you. your hands trail up his back, shaky and slow, fingertips ghosting over the ink there.

you’re both silent for a moment. just breathing. just existing. and then— “you really weren’t gonna say hi to me?” he whispers, nose brushing yours.

you blink up at him, lips swollen, voice nearly gone. “you didn’t say hi either.”

his mouth twitches. he kisses you again—softer now, longer. like he wants to keep tasting what he missed.

then he pulls out slowly, careful—and groans at the mess you’ve both made. his cum spills out of you, sticky and warm against your thighs.

he watches it. a little too long.

you shift beneath him, flushed and spent, and mumble, “you’re being weird.”

he doesn’t even look up. “you’re leaking. my work here is done.”

you slap his chest. weakly. “stop staring.”

“stop leaking.”

“kuna.”

he finally lifts his head, grinning—messy hair, flushed cheeks, smug as all hell. “don’t look at me like it’s my fault you can’t hold it in.”

you gape at him, mouth falling open. “i just got rearranged like damn ikea furniture—maybe give me five minutes?”

he laughs, head dropping to your shoulder. “you’re so dramatic,” he murmurs into your neck. “you loved it.”

you try to smack him again, but your arm flops back down instead. “shut up. i’m sore.”

“you’re gonna be more sore tomorrow.” he sounds pleased about it.

you groan, tossing your head back into the pillow. “you’re the worst.”

he hums. “mm. you came so hard you forgot your name. i think i’m the best.”

you glance down at him, raising a brow. “i did not forget my name.”

“you whimpered,” he says, kissing your collarbone. “like five times.”

“not the same thing.”

he snorts. “sounded like you were glitching.”

“i hate you.”

“you sucked my soul out through my dick twenty minutes ago.”

“okay first of all—”

“it was an honor,” he says, hand rubbing slow circles into your hip. “salute.”

you burst into laughter, and so does he.

he collapses beside you, both of you a mess—sweaty, flushed, glowing in the aftershocks and still tangled in the sheets. the room smells like sex and sweat.

his hand finds yours between the blankets.

you go quiet for a moment. breathing. existing. then—

“…so do we tell yuji or just make it weird forever?”

he groans and throws a pillow over his face. “my god, just kill me now.”

© sukurena — do not copy, repost, or translate my work !!

[wastedjackpot]

[stalkerr-daddy]

I love the idea of training you while you’re in the most vulnerable states. While we’re “playing around” and I’m groping you, kissing you up and down and worshiping your body I take my cock out and lovingly enter you, making sure I don’t hurt you. As I start fucking you, thrusting deeper and deeper into you, I instantly flip a switch when I see your face in pure pleasure. My thrusts get harder, more vicious and you immediately cry out telling me that it hurts. I grab you by your throat and you start fighting me off, I weaken my grip and watch you pathetically crawl away from me before I grab you by your ankles and pull you back to me. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? I didn’t dismiss you,” I say filling you full of my hard cock, violently fucking you. I begin giving you commands, telling you what to say. “This can all stop if you say you love me, I moan through my teeth into your ear as my whole body pins you down while I continue pounding your pussy. “Say it! Tell me you fucking love me. This can all end if you just say it!” I start yelling out, rutting into you harder, and harder until you cry it out, “I love you,” I slow down and make you repeat it, “I love you daddy!!” You scream out, tears streaming down your face, I gently caress your cheek, “I love you too babygirl, but I’m so close I’m so sorry.” I pick my pace back up, using your hole as my fuck toy, thrusting myself as deep into you as your little body will allow me, bruising you from the inside out, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you, tears still falling down your pretty face. “Don’t cry baby, I promise I’m almost done. Be a good girl and take it for me,” I say in broken sentences in between my moans. I grab your face, and start kissing you, telling you how pretty, how perfect you are as I violate and rape your body, training you to like it, to crave it even. I start throbbing, getting closer and closer before I fill you up, filling your little hole with my cum, letting it leak out before I use my cock to push it back in and fuck my cum deeper into you, this time more gently. As you’re all limp and dazed from what just happened to you, I remind you to thank me for what I just did to you. You lightly stutter out a thank you from your dazed state, “good girl, you’re welcome babygirl. You did such a perfect job for me, I’m so proud of you.” I respond smiling as I know this will break you, and I will get exactly what I wanted from you, my baby.

[kxsalt]

cw non-consent

Two is company, three is a crowd. The old saying is tossed around as a joke. She sits on the bed in the hotel room while the three men take off their clothes. The girl is almost entirely confident. Her experience having sex with two men at the same time will surely carry her through. A flicker of nervousness is visible on her face as they lead her off the bed and onto her knees.

Sucking cock, she strokes the other two. With only moments to catch her breath, her mouth is passed around the trio. The coordination required to give two handjobs while deepthroating is slightly beyond her ability. The men get more impatient and unsatisfied by her awkward rhythm.

“Come on, you can do better than that. You said you were good at this.” The man lambasts her. She gurgles in response. “One more minute, then we can switch.” Groans another as he facefucks her. “Let’s get into the fun stuff.” Remarks the third, also unsatisfied by her hand. He grabs her hips, lifting her upright and drives his cock into her pussy.

Spitroasted on the men, the girl feels a moment of comfort. Having one man using her cunt while she sucks off the other is a familiar place for her. The third man complicates things. She tries her best to swap between the two regularly, but their impatience grows. One sits on the bed. “Let me fuck her. Come bounce on my dick, slut.”

“I’m trying my best, okay?” Her disrespectful tone slips through her unused mouth. The energy changes. The girl swallows as she reads the frustrated expressions of the three men. “Try harder.” Says the man on the bed as he grabs her hips and pulls her on top of him. She takes him in her pussy while another stands on the matress.

She tastes her pussy on his cock as she rides the other man. Another familiar place. The girl forgets to take care of the third man. A firm grip on her bum reminds her of his presence. Reaching behind, she tries to grab onto his cock. It’s too late.

Pulling her head away from the blowjob, she feels the head of his cock press against her ass. “Hey! I don’t do anal! I told you that before! Stop!” The girl protests. “You do now.” He would barely fit inside her without her pussy stretched by the other man. He groans and thrusts himself inside her third hole.

Her safeword is ignored. It’s nothing but theatre when three men want to take a lone woman. The impotent begging is muffled when a cock is shoved down her throat. Finally, the group is satisfied. Tears pour from her eyes as her arms are held behind her back. Fighting with all her strength wouldn’t be enough to stop even one of them.

Another desparate attempt to escape. The men pin her to the bed and switch between her holes. She begs for them to stop. They don’t. Instead they fuck her harder. The first man to finish unloads his cum all over her sobbing face. The second man finishes in her ass. As he pulls his cock from her, the third man takes his place. Their cum mixes in her used asshole.

The first is ready again. His comrades hold her down so he can properly enjoy her. The girl’s pleading has faded into the occasional mumbled word or outburst of crying. As they fuck her, one or two keeps a firm grip on her to prevent any physical resistance. Sometimes, two regain their stamina at the same time, and they both penetrate her at the same time.

The hours pass. Gone far beyond her limits, the girl lies limp in the middle of the hotel bed. The last man finishes in her ruined body. His cum dribbles from her as he gets dressed. She curls up in a ball and tries to wipe off the stains as the hotel room door closes.

[intoxicating-goddess]

Please ignore my safeword 🥵🤤

[verbalabuseencouraged]

I need to be raped so bad💕

Like, surprise me in the parking lot kind of rape. I always park far away because I need the walk and I don’t want to deal with people who pull out like jackasses (hehe), so it should be pretty easy. I’m putting my things in the backseat, tucking them into the foot space so they don’t move around. You come up quick and grab handfuls of my ass, using your larger body to hoist me all the way into the back.

I’d be so shocked, I wouldn’t know what was happening, and that would give you plenty of time to pin me down by the back of the neck, my cheek pressing hard to the seat. I can feel the hard outline of your cock against my ass before I even draw a breath to scream. With your free hand you punch me in the head. Not hard, you know how to pull back on your blow, but sharp. It hurts just enough to scare me into shutting up.

You lean in even as I feel your hand slip between us to your belt. There are no fumbling hands here, you’re quick and precise as you pull the strap free of its buckle, followed by a brisk zip. “You scream and I’ll fucking put you in the hospital.” I can feel your breath on the side of my face but I can’t see you.

Now your dick is free, thick, and hard, and hot against me. Your attentions turn to my clothing, swiftly yanking my dress up and underwear down to my thighs. I try to wriggle, push you off, but you’ve got just enough of your weight on me so that I can’t budge up.

“Stupid..cunt!” Your sneer turns into a groan as you line up well enough to force your cock into me with one sharp thrust. I cry out but you don’t reprimand me, you moan and curse into my ear as you start fucking me against my will.

It burns, being stretched out and stuffed so forcefully, but only at first. I get wetter and wetter as you thrust into me again and again and again. I let out little grunts as you fill me, draw breath when you pull out. Your hips are so violent I can feel and hear the whole car rocking as I’m raped.

You still moan somewhere above me but don’t say anything else, even when my grunts become sharp cries as your fucking into my pussy becomes faster, harder. When you cum you shout out a curse against my temple and bury your cock so deep it forces a guh sound out of me.

You keep pumping your cum into me almost tenderly once your orgasm has passed, pushing it deep, clearly enjoying the last ebbs of the pleasure you took from my body. When you finally push off me and start tucking yourself away you tell me, “Don’t say a fucking word about this to anyone. I’m going to give you five minutes and then you better drive straight fucking home. I’m going to follow you in case you get any ideas.”

I can hear your feet walking away and it takes me a moment to remember where I am. I push my dress back down hastily as I back up out of the car, fumbling to pull my underwear back up, cringing at the squishy sensation of my panties meeting the cum seeping out of my ravaged cunt. I close the door and walk around to get in my car. I see another man walking to his car with a shopping bag and a snarky grin on his face. It’s not you, but he knows, or thinks he knows, what I’ve been doing. I turn so red that I can actually hear him laugh as he closes his car door.

On the long drive home I keep checking my mirror for you. I don’t know if it was a bluff but I’m not taking chances. I go straight home only to find a cop car waiting on the curb in front. I panic. Did someone see and call it in? Did you follow me home? Are you watching now? Are you going to kill me?

The cop walks up and motions for me to roll down the window. Stammering I ask if anything is wrong.

“Just wanted to make sure you got home alright.” You say, smiling brightly as the shock of hearing your voice registers on my face. You open the car door for me. “Why don’t you show me inside ma’am.”

[bunnyuser]

Play fighting with your beefy boyfriend!

─ ˚₊⊹ᰔ Size kink, pussy eating, 18+

Playing fighting with your boyfriend is so fun!!!Especially when he’s been bulking up and going to the gym on the regular, his biceps getting bigger and firmer and always finding a way to lock around your neck in a nice beefy headlock you lover and adored!

Or when you two were cuddled up on the couch and you couldn’t help but hold onto his hefty arms. He kept chuckling at how big his hand was and how it covered your face!

Or when you’re both play wrestling on the bed, giggles and playful grunts filling the room as the beefy man pinned you down to the bed on your stomach and was now hovering over you. All of a sudden, the giggles died down and silence filled the room along with heavy tension

Your stomach fluttered at the thought of you lying there helpless as the strong man pinned you down. You tried to squirm and whine to get up but he just pressed his hand down your lower back and shushed you.

He’s moving your hair out the way of your neck and placing deep kisses as you try and stifle your moans into your plushie who is forced to witness the nasty acts this man was about to do to you…

He’s dragging his warm hands up the sides of your soft body, sliding your top off to expose your pretty backside that drives him crazy. He kisses down the curve of your spine all the way down to those tiny striped micro shorts that makes him wanna stuff you full until you’re bloated with his cum.

He starts pulling them off and you can’t help but whimper yet push your hips up to aid him in getting your pants off that were getting stickier and stickier with the slick from your arousal….

Next thing you know you’re propped face down ass up at the edge of the bed as wet smacking sounds fill the room from his mouth slurping and smacking on your pussy with no mercy :( he’s pushing your hips back onto his thick tongue and not allowing you to squirm away as you’re forced to just take what he gave you.

You just loved your beefy boyfriend!

This is giving me Toji vibes 4 some reason… (𖦹﹏𖦹)

[cursingtoji]

October 31st - Predator x prey

bounty hunter! toji x f!reader

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 you thought you've found peace running away from the sorcerer world, however the sorcerer killer was sent to hunt you down in the scariest night of the year.

✧ explicit content ahead, dub-con, fear play, graveyard sex, fingering, toji calling reader bunny. w/c: 3k

a/n: technically this is my last kinktober post although i'm still owning y'all nanami which will be a little delayed since i wanted to post this toji one on halloween. Playlist suggestion

October 31st.

The first halloween in the new city.

For someone that used to live in a world full of monsters like you, everyday was the scariest night of the year.

That world of curses and weapons was not for you, you’ve seen too many childhood friends passing away and monsters that still haunt your nightmares. Trained since childhood to be one of the best left no gaps for you to express your thoughts, the few times you’ve tried to talk to your family about your dissatisfaction for that kind of life you were thrown in a dark place, or beaten, or yelled at, the more you grew the worse the punishments became.

Which was why you decided to leave before your family could put you on trial.

Running away to the smallest town you could find almost a year ago, making a life there under a different name, inventing a history to the ones who asked why you were there, all alone, with no family. Finding yourself a tiny apartment in which you installed three locks on the door for protection, keeping an eye open and a knife under your pillow during the night.

In the beginning every little thing scared you like a rabbit, the constant fear you lived in made the locals think you had an abusive relationship before arriving there. Maybe that’s why they took you in so well.

After a few weeks of struggle you managed to get a job in the local bar, serving clients, cleaning, placing orders and kicking out underage teens. The city was primarily inhabited by parents with small children trying to build a family in a calm place and retired couples looking to enjoy a peaceful life, teenagers would leave to college right after high school to go to a big city.

By now you were proud of yourself for knowing most of the people in this tiny city, befriending the many men and women that came to the bar often to vent about random things happening in their life, you finally settled in this town considering it your home, where you could find peace knowing the curses, if there were any, were not your problem anymore.

Until this very day.

Today you knew to not expect much movement at the bar since parents would be taking their kids trick and treating around the neighborhood after the glowing light of the sun was replaced by the moonlight. Your boss, the bar owner, insisted that you wore some costume, your choice, just to get in the mood for halloween, which was why you improvised a red riding hood costume, even though you knew you were not going to stay as late as usual since it was sunday, tomorrow parents would work and kids had school, so you planned to go through the day in your outfit to please the customers and hopefully get some tips in return.

But deep in your gut you felt something was off, on your way to work you even saw some fly heads for the first time here, it even seemed like they were looking at you, which you quickly dismissed, adjusting the hood around your head to block their view of your face.

Of course you couldn't share your concern with anyone else since the locals couldn’t see the small curses and you were not going to blow your cover by attempting to exorcise them.

You left that life behind you.

The first part of the day went by smoothly, now near sunset time the usual customers were asking for beers to help them go through the busy night with the children.

“I’ll be right back” you smiled at the clearly tired out men at the table after they ordered and proceeded to get their beers.

There, behind the bar right in front of the beer glasses rested a single napkin with red ink written on it.

I’m coming for you, baby bunny.

The air got stuck in your throat as you gasped, losing the grip on the glass and letting it shatter on the floor.

The few people there stopped talking to look at the source of the noise, the sudden silent attention upon you replaced the fear with embarrassment for a second.

You mumbled an apology and dropped to pick up the broken pieces.

For the rest of the night you couldn’t focus on your tasks, mistaking or forgetting the orders, dropping stuff and having to go to the bathroom often to splash water on your face in an attempt to get sane. For months you fought to get rid of that scared girl image, and there she was again, looking back at you.

Maybe it was just a halloween prank, it wouldn’t be strange for that to happen here, a small town where everybody knew everybody.

“Yes, just a prank” you concluded, staring at your own reflection before drying your face and returning to your tasks.

Looking through the window, you noticed there was no more natural light, only the yellow street lamps lighting dark streets. The grocery shopping which had people walking in and out with bags full of candy all day was starting to close down, it seemed all local businesses were closing too, as usual only the bar you worked at stayed open.

The last customer paid you and wished happy halloween which you replied back walking with him to the door to lock it and turn the Open sign to Closed.

The few people walking the street already had masks and costumes on, the sight making you shiver upon the realization that you might not recognize all the people you walk pass on your way home.

The bar owner trusted you enough to give you the keys to close the place down, so you locked everything walking to the employees room in the back to take your things.

As soon as you turned on the blinking light you saw written with red ink on your locker:

Trick or treat

The blinking lights gave up their job to illuminate the place, and now there was only darkness around you.

The words made your heart freeze inside your chest, there you stood in the middle of absolute darkness breathing heavily, trying to focus on your surroundings, remembering the lessons you had about feeling a person’s cursed energy, even non-sorcerers had them. So you did, stupidly looking around like you could district anything.

There was no energy, you were alone.

So whose steps were those you heard?

Whose hand was that touching your face?

“Boo".

Your heartbeats were hammering your chest as a single warm tear ran down your face.

The husky voice you heard so real you felt it vibrate through your body.

You had to leave.

Now.

Finally you found the courage in you to move your body, taking a step back and trusting your instincts to run, finding your way out in the darkness, turning the knob that led to the back exit.

The yellow light from the streets greeted you, now sighing with relief knowing no one would hurt you around other people to witness.

But where are the people?

Where are all the people that are usually around during this time?

Streets so empty, so silent...

Of course. They were in their neighborhoods taking their kids to knock around asking for candies.

You had light now, you could see, but you were still alone and in danger.

Your head was spinning with the adrenaline caused by your pulsating heart, the path you usually took was a highway with little to none movement, a longer path than necessary, you could cut half the time by crossing the cemetery, but you always opted for the detour to avoid the melancholic garden.

Now, though, you had no choice.

If you got to your neighborhood you could ask for help, certainly it would have people there to help you.

Right when you looked back you saw the metal door you just crossed slowly opening again with a creak sound.

Your legs moved on their own, running in the middle of the streets and soon crossing the gates to run through the graveyard.

However things could never be that easy for you as you soon found out when a cloud covered the moonlight that illuminated the place.

Again you were surrounded by black.

And different from the employee room you knew like the back of your hand, the cemetery was unexplored by you. Full of hills, stones and trees, it was expected that you stumbled upon a gravestone with the pace you were at, rolling on the cold grass.

Still no light around you, only far in the distance but you weren't sure if that was the part of the town you just left or the one you should go to.

You tried to calm down your breath to locate yourself, a distant whistling approaching.

By now you were drowning in your own fear.

Where was the whistling coming from?

Where was he?

Who was he?

Only one person could go unnoticed. deprived from any cursed energy. Like a ghost in the shadows.

The one people with a lot of money could use.

The one sent to do the dirtiest jobs money could buy.

The whistling.

Where did it go?

“You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone”

The red riding hood quote brought a shiver to your spine.

The moonlight was back when you wished it wasn’t.

And there he was.

The big bad wolf hovering over your little red form on the floor.

He smiled like a predator that just trapped his frightened prey.

“That’s the part where you ask about my eyes isn’t it?” the moonlight accentuated the green eyes from your hunter, a dark scar crossing his threatening smile.

“Toji” your voice trembled as his name left your lips. The world you lived in was small enough for you to meet the man hired to hunt you, who didn't know the sorcerer killer?

From your spot on the floor his form seemed huge, like he could just step on your and get this over with.

You knew better than to fight him.

The absolute lack of cursed energy just reinforced the concept of heavenly restriction you knew it applied to him, a man with little cursed energy was strong. A man with zero cursed energy was invincible.

You pathetically rose to your knees to resume your escapade, now that the moonlight was back brightening the yard.

Before you could even take a proper step away his arm was around your torso trapping your arms and your body against his own, chest pressed on your back, so easy for him like holding a rag lifeless doll.

“Please, Toji, don’t take me back to them” you begged, shaking your head, attempting to move your body to break free from his embrace.

“Back?” with a chuckle he brought a big calloused hand to your chin, lifting it up to meet his amused sharp eyes above you, “Bunny, I was sent to kill you”.

Your teared up eyes widened.

Of course your family wouldn’t want a renegade back, it was just like them to off you before you tried to go against them.

Your body grew limp in Toji’s arms, head thrown back on his chest as you looked up to the white moon.

“I don’t wanna die” you lifted a hand to touch his forearm tight under your breasts, not much left to do now except accept your fate. After almost one year not practicing your fighting skills there was nothing to be done against your hunter, not when he was known for always getting the job done.

Toji bent slightly behind you to whisper in your ear, his hot breath and husky voice made your insides tingle, but his words were what made your spine grow cold.

“Good thing you already did”.

The hand that still rested on your chin roughly turned it to the right and down where you saw a bevel marker lighted up the moonlight above you.

In loving memory

And below that sentence, in big bold letters, was your name.

The name you used before arriving in this town, the family name you wanted to forget following it.

Your mouth was open as your brain tried to comprehend the situation.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he whispered, hot lips traced a path from your ear to your neck licking and biting the sensitive skin as to tease his prey.

Underneath your name was the year you were born, a dash and the current year.

Your small frightened brain still could not understand.

“What are you going to do with me?” your breath was shallow, nails digging into his skin as you let his lips continue to trace a sinful path on your neck, your body gave up any survival instincts when a large hand cupped your breast pulling a whine out of your dry lips.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, little bunny?”

Tears were streaming down your face when he took your jaw lifting your sight from the stone on the floor to his face, where he licked the salty liquid on your cheeks.

“Gave up already? I thought you were going to give me a hard time, but it seems I have found myself a docile bunny” you pressed your body against his, the warmth of it seemed to have a calming effect on you.

“Too bad, cause I was expecting a long hunt, so I’m still full of energy, you don’t mind helping me with that right, bunny?” he took your much smaller hand on his, bringing it to his crotch pressed on your lower back.

Your cold hand soon found the outline of his cock so big against your delicate hand, once again your breath became heavy.

The fear still running on your veins felt like a powerful aphrodisiac as you started to palm his length behind you.

Toji on the other hand was not so delicate when he ripped your dress in one swift motion, you had no time to scream at the act since the second your mouth opened he had his tongue inside, a large hand holding your face still as he explored the hot cave.

His free hand wandered your body till it cupped your sex covered only by a red underwear. The cold you felt was not noticeable for Toji as your hot cunt welcomed his palm, he pressed his hand there even harder to feel the outlines of your lips even through the thin fabric. The sudden pressure he applied on your clit with the heel of his palm made you whine in his mouth and wiggle your hips looking for some more fiction.

“What a needy little thing” he murmured letting go of your lips with a string of saliva connecting you two.

He released your face, you still feeling his warm print on your delicate skin when he guided your small hand to enter his pants, not finding any resistance from a underwear, just his direct skin and rough hairs rubbing your palm down till his hand made yours wrap around his fat shaft, so thick you couldn’t wrap your hands all the way, the realization made your eyes widen while a smile crossed Toji’s face watching your despair.

“Worry not, bunny” in a quick move he put your underwear aside exposing your folds to the cold air before entering two fingers inside your pussy already wet from the previous stimulation, “I will make it fit”.

Once again there was darkness surrounding you, the impossibility to distinguish any form nearby except his finger scissoring you made your walls clamp.

“So fucking tight, almost as this pussy was expecting me” he took your bottom lip in between his teeth sucking and biting as his fingers moved inside you soon adding a third while you stroked his cock making a mess with his precum.

With three thick fingers inside you and his palm resting on your clit you felt the beginning of an orgasm building inside you.

“I’m g-going to--” your words were cut by a hard bite on your lip.

“You will what, bunny?” he pressed your cheeks slowing down the movements in your pussy, “Without asking permission? Who do you think you’re dealing with here?”

“Sorry, p-please can I?” another tear ran down your cheek, your tears were a soft spot for Toji, the way his cute little prey seemed so desperate for him, the one that could ruin her so easily…

“Good girl, you can cum” he whispered, running a thumb up your cheek till it reached your wet lashes.

Your head dropped on his shoulder, your open mouth letting moans out in the direction of the moon, your pretty sounds making Toji thrust his hips on your hand gripping him hard enough to make the hunter’s breath become uneven too, but before he could cream your hand he took it out of his pants.

“I’m not done with my sweet bunny” he removed his fingers from inside you, mesmerized at the long string of your arousal that remained connected to him until it broke.

“I can’t anymore, Toji” your legs felt weak, the orgasm making your head dizzy. Toji pushed the fingers that were inside you in your mouth shutting down any further thoughts.

“Nonsense, I know you can” you sucked his fingers tasting yourself until he pulled out smearing the mix of your saliva and juices across your face.

Toji maneuvered your limp body making you lay on the grass, right beside the stone with your name on it.

“Toji, what does this mean?” you asked in a low as a whisper voice staring at the new stone, unlike the others not having any marks of time on it.

How could it? Since Toji got it done not too long ago.

We don't care about the body, just make her disappear. Those were the exact words Toji heard from your family, he knew he just needs a picture from that stone with your name on it to prove the person they wanted dead would no longer be a problem.

Your hunter got rid of your underwear kneeling between your legs pulling his pants down, the long veiny dick springing free from the confinement as he spit on it, using his hand to spread the saliva across his length and guiding it to rub the head in between your folds.

“That means my job is done, bunny, that girl was dead before I even got here” he took the hem of his shirt in between his teeth, getting it out of the way as he watched his length disappear in your cunt, your naked form laying on the grass on top of the red cape tied around your neck. The prettiest sight Toji ever had.

He has done many bad things in his life, but right there he was proud with the outcome of his work, you would live, you were already living a new life, under a different name. No matter what, the woman he was sent to kill died the second you decided to leave the jujutsu would behind.

“I hope she’s having a good afterlife”.

a/n: if the ending was confusing i explained it a bit more here. Let me know your thoughts!

© please do not modify or repost; if you find reposted content please let me know

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