warnings: 18+ ONLY. minors/ageless blogs dni. first times/unprotected sex, slight use/mention of drugs, mirror sex, dry humping, vaginal sex, creampies, oral (both m. and f. receiving), biting/marking—eren has manners. he’s a shameless pussy eater with manners.
wc: 4.2k
note: a repost from my old account <3.
“Secrets I have had in my heart are harder to hide than I thought,”
“Maybe I just wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours,”
Eren Jaeger desires nothing more than you.
To have and to hold, to love and make love, to fuck and ruin, to break up and make up— he wanted it all, with you. And to him, you’re somewhat unattainable. Not in the traditional sense—you know, the one where you don’t like him and make that known, of course not—but in the sense that he knows you like him, and knows he likes you; he just can’t get his hands on you. Not enough for his liking, far too infrequent, far too fleeting, few and far between. And most times, you’re mere inches, mere centimeters from his grasp.
Just when you think your evening is reaching new levels of low, a cute pink-haired firefighter flips your night right side up!
Pairing: Firefighter!Itadori Yuuji x Female Bodied!Reader
Warnings: Smut (18+), Descriptions of Injury & Blood, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Oral (Receiving & Giving), Cum Eating
Word Count: 8.9k
A/N: I know the plot is a bit cheesy, but I had a lot of fun writing this fic! Also I’m not a medical professional in any way so if I wrote any misinformation on the treating of Reader’s injuries, I researched as much as I could >.< I hope you all enjoy the read & please let me know your thoughts! 🧡 Also a huge huge thank you to @redbeanteax @secondhand-trash & @ryukatters for beta-reading for me! 🧡
It’s embarrassing really, the amount of times your mother has bombarded your phone with messages regarding your dating life. As if you’re entirely incapable of finding a romantic partner yourself, which even if you are , you don’t need anyone to play matchmaker for you. You’re perfectly content with your own methods, which include a vicious cycle of uninstalling and reinstalling the same few dating apps on your phone.
warnings: fem! reader, virgin hanma, hand jobs, blow jobs, cum swallowing
a/n: just been thinking teary eyed sensitive virgin hanma how about you
hanma is trying to breathe normally—really, he is, but you’re making it so hard right now, thumbs gliding over his nipples slowly as you suck on his neck, the bulge in his pants finding the phantom of friction from your clothed cunt as you sit on his lap.
and he’s trying not to let the cries that bubble up his throat escape, keeping them locked away to save what’s left of his pride, but you pinch his left nipple, and he jerks, whimpering loudly. the smirk on your lips tells him everything he needs to know.
you can read him like a book, you know how he’s fairing, can tell just from a glance, the experience you have giving you the upper hand people don’t usually have over someone like hanma shuji. and you love it. you love every second of it. you want to see him crumble, want to see the tears prick his eyes and the cries launch from his throat, want to watch him give every part of himself to you.
leaning in, you pull him into a heated kiss, and he kisses back sloppily, tongue and teeth and soft groans colliding against your mouth in a frenzy.
“you’re a mess, shuji,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair, soothing him as he pants lightly. it’s all just for show—you both know that. everything in your demeanor screams you’re going to wreck him.
“‘i-i’m fine,” he speaks, and it’s not convincing in the slightest. “i’m fine, the fuck are you talking about?” and with a quick motion, your hand palms him through his pants, a strangled groan pushing past his lips as he throws his head back, making you smile smugly. he’s all talk, but he won’t live up to it. this you know.
climbing off his lap, you seat yourself on the ground before him, spreading his legs as you unzip his pants. his breathing is turning more and more erratic as you slowly pull his pants and boxers down his thighs, exposing his erect member, hard and throbbing as it stands tall. gritting his teeth, he screws his eyes shut when you lean in and press a soft kiss to the tip.
kill him. you’re trying to kill him, he thinks.
“you certainly look fine,” you tease, and he shoots you a weak glare. “if you’re so fine, then i suppose you don’t need me—”
“no,” he interrupts loudly, far more desperately than he wishes he sounded.
“oh? you want me to continue?” gulping, hanma nods, and you raise a brow, shaking your head in disappointment. hanma shuji doesn’t strive to please—he does what he wants, how he wants, when he wants. but he wants nothing more in this moment than to please you, and he thinks he might never be whole again if he doesn’t. “use your words, shuji.”
“yes,” he whimpers. “yes, i want you to continue.”
“where are your manners, baby?” tears prick his eyes when you slowly—far too slowly—fist his aching cock, stroking him ever so gently. it’s not enough, and he wonders when he’d gotten so sensitive.
“please,” he begs. “please continue. need more.” and he sounds so pretty, so needy, so innocent, that you can’t help but comply. you fist him tighter, making him gasp, writhing once you start stroking him faster, thumb swiping through his slit to collect the drops of pre cum, smearing them around his sensitive tip, red and angry.
hanma moans loudly, head thrown back as he pants harshly, his chest heaving as you work his cock with your hand. and just when he thinks you couldn’t make a bigger mess out of him, your lips are wrapping around his shaft, taking him into your warm mouth. his hips buck instantly, a loud cry escaping him as he reaches a hand to his scalp, tugging at his roots, the feeling new and so, so different from his hand.
hanma’s never felt something like this, and he wonders how he’s been deprived of it for so long.
“so pretty, shuji,” you murmur, kissing down the silky skin of his length, making him whine. “all mine right? no one’s sucked this cock, have they?”
“al-all yours,” he nods. “cock’s all yours—please. please keep going,” he pleads, and two tears lining his waterline slip, spilling down his cheeks from the painful need to cum, so sensitive already from just the tiniest taste of what you can give him.
kissing his thigh softly, you smile up at him soothingly, and hanma wants to be yours so badly. painfully so—and till the end, he wants to belong to no one but you.
“okay, shuji,” you nod. and the warmth of your mouth encases him once more, your cheeks hallowing as you bob your head up and down, sucking his cock as he bucks his hips up, letting out a long, drawn-out groan, turning into a whine at the end when your hand plays with his balls, massaging them gently as you work his cock with your mouth.
and hanma should be mortified how fast he’s reaching his high, how quickly he’s diving off the precipice to his orgasm, but he can’t bring himself to care. he just wants to cum, for you, just wants to experience the way you take him over the edge.
and over the edge he goes, cum shooting in loads from his tip, a loud cry of your name as he arches his back, more tears spilling down his cheeks as he curses brokenly.
“f-fuck, fuck, y/n,” he whimpers. “‘m cumming—shit—i’m cumming,” he moans, gasping when you continue to suck him through his high. his thighs quake as you work him through his orgasm, releasing a small whine and trying to close his legs when it becomes too much.
you pop off his member, swallowing his load, and he thinks that if he wasn’t dying then, he certainly is now. rising to your feet, you stand over his seated figure, smoothing back sweaty strands of hair and kissing his forehead gently as he pants—like he’s glass, bound to break.
“good job, baby,” you praise, and he grips your waist tightly. “think you can go another round? haven’t gotten to fucking you yet,” you grin.
+ a/n. first post on here! i've never written for tokyo revengers before, so excuse any mischaracterization (although i think i did them justice) :D this is fun, will write them more often + UNEDITED.
+ bnha version
—MIKEY is undeniably clingy. he wants you by his side at all times— whether that be when he's going to confront a bunch of gangs (he can protect you after all, so it doesn't hurt), walking around town, getting food or gatecrashing places for the heck of it—he wants you right next to him, hand in his, or even better- arms looped together, swaying slightly while you ramble next to him, earning the occasional small smile or "y/n-chan!," falling from his pouty lips. he's rather fond of showing you off, even if it's in the most subtle of ways (well, subtle according to mikey)— seating you on his lap during meetings, sending glares towards anyone who glances at you (it scares them off so fast), or asking you for kisses in his infamous childish tone. "i didn't get my daily kiss!," mikey whines, puckering his lips in your direction, satisfied only when you grab his face- pulling it close to yours and giving him all the kisses he wants. you're the only one who makes mikey genuinely smile, and he'd do anything for you (except sharing his mcdonald's flags- yeah, that's not happening anytime soon).
—DRAKEN is the definition of overprotective. he knows his pretty baby is full well capable of handling themselves (in fact, it's one of the things that attracted him to you), but the man in him isn't at rest until he feels like he's fulfilling all his duties as a boyfriend. he doesn't always necessarily have a hand on you (he prefers to keep the physical affection private, mostly) but anyone can tell you're his by the way he walks behind you, hands deep in his pockets and eyes right on your back- occasionally diverting to glance at other people looking at you. he shows his love through little actions- how your favorite chips always seem to be lying in the basket at home, how his cologne is always the scent you told him you like once, how your bike's always well-oiled—it may not be extravagant, but it doesn't go unnoticed by you. if you talk to him about it, he'll simply brush it off with a "it's whatever, idiot," but really? he's fighting the soft pink rising to his cheeks. if he's feeling extra needy, there'll be a slight frown on his face, brows furrowed until you pull him down, grabbing his shoulders to plant a kiss on his temple. mikey teases him no end about how "ken-chin is so whipped!," but when he sees you smile at him- draken can't help but agree.
—MITSUYA is the ideal boyfriend, really. his actions are neither as exaggerated as mikey's, nor as subtle as draken's. he doesn't mind public displays of affection; subconsciously grabbing your hand to rub soft circles on it, pulling you into his side, placing absent-minded kisses on your temple every now and then- it just happens. you're his official model for all clothes he sews, whether it be a new design for the toman jackets, or a pretty outfit he says he's making to pass his time (that's a lie- he's taking time out to make it because he wants to see you beam when he hands it to you), because in his words, "you always look gorgeous, don' ya?" he absolutely adores late night bike rides- sitting to watch the starry sky with his love, you may even get to see him being sappy. when he sees your hair flying in the chilly wind, he can't help but tuck them behind your ear, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders. mitsuya is a sucker for domestic intimacy, hence it isn't the least bit surprising when everyone says you both act like the old married couple- a bit light bickering here and there, yes, but always coming home to each-other.
—HANMA is exciting, to say the least. his loving is exhilarating, never a boring moment with him. you know he'd burn down cities for you- this man has no moral compass, and will snap anyone's neck if they blink at you wrong. he's possessive, overly so, neck buried in your collarbones all the time, soft bites here and there. bickering isn't unusual between you two, really, you thrive on it— but if anyone else dares to make one sarcastic comment in your presence, they can expect a punch to their face. hanma's in love with every part of you, and only you get to see his occasional soft side— a proud "fuckin' psycho bitch," followed by him nudging your cheek with his nose, gentle kisses following. he's the type to walk into a jewellery store with you on his arm, ask you what ring you'd like, and immediately hold a gun to the salesman's head before walking out with it. "pretty thing, aren't ya?," he says, hands tight around your waist as he pulls you onto him, attaching his mouth to yours. hanma is feral. you don't ground him, and you don't want to. after all, the world is yours if you ask for it- relationships don't get much better than this.
ʚ CW ɞ — baji huge monster dick, throat bulging, just big dick baji, he’s kind of a . player idk, gossip/rumours, cornering??, creampie / unprotected sex but dw she has an iud duh, intoxication, drug references, drinking, mention of cigarettes
ʚ NOTE ɞ — KEISUKEEEE <3 baji anti smut ppl dni minors dni. it’s literally fictional. all characters are aged up.
ʚ SUMMARY ɞ — rumour has it, baji keisuke’s got a dick bigger than his ego.
talk, talk, talk. that’s all the group of senior boys that occupy the table next to yours in the cafeteria do. talk absolute shit. you wonder how they get a bite of food in when every second some nasty, lewd topic is being brought up, their ringleader is the one who sits at the head of the table, ruggedly handsome you have to admit, but with a big mouth that decreases any attraction you have towards him. baji keisuke. a dude who has slept with over 80% of the female population in college, a percentage that trumps any he’s ever received back on a test paper. his brain is much smaller than the dick he boasts to have. “she couldn’t fuckin’ take it,” baji leans forward on the table, “couldn’t even get past the tip.” his peers listen so intently, more than they ever have in any lecture.
“does anyone really believe the bullshit he spews?” yuzuha snarks. her plastic fork pierces a piece of canned fruit and then snaps sadly.
“it’s true,” hinata says it so surely you almost believe, “the girl in my lit class, you know the one i was talking about last week? she fucked him, said she couldn’t even fit it in her mouth.” you do wish she was less shameless and a little quieter, because your conversation has now peaked interest in chifuyu who had once been immersed in a rundown of some niche, european silent film.
“baji-san?” his eyes light up, “he’s not lying.” chifuyu insists, “he’s super cool once you talk to him.”
“what does being cool have to do with a big dick?” you raise a brow, going back to observing the mannerisms of the man you find so overly obnoxious. baggy pants, spread legs — he’s trying way too hard to play into this joke.
“why would he lie about it? i believe it.” emma puts in her two cents, “ken doesn’t hang around shit talkers.” you do wonder why ken ryuguji, a man you deem as decent, decides to spend his free time with a guy like baji rather than his own girlfriend.
even in your dorm, the hottest topic is still baji’s keisuke’s supposed monster dick. senju, like the gossip she is, has talked to a varied amount of sources and the conclusion is clear; baji’s dick really is that big.
“it wouldn’t be a rumour for no reason,” emma, ever the voice of reason, points out. “why’re you so worked up over this?”
“she needs it. ____ hasn’t been fucked in months!” hinata chirps too freely about your dry sex life.
“oh yeah? hanagaki still afraid to put it in you?” you look up from painting your nails to watch the grin on hinata’s face disappear.
“of course he is! you’d be the first to know if we fucked.” she pouts, “it’s not fair, he gets me all worked up ‘n then i have to rub one out in the bathroom.”
“unlucky.” senju shakes her head, a hand over her heart to show her remorse, “i went on a date with some dude i found on tinder last week, he was older too, like thirty. but i think he had a girlfriend. the sex was good-“ her disjointed rambles help you disassociate, brows knitting tighter as you grow more and more frustrated over a man you’ve never uttered a word too. maybe hinata’s right. you’re just sexually frustrated and mad he’s actually getting some. still — must that be his only personality trait? can he talk about other interesting things you can eavesdrop on at lunch?
“____’s coming too.” you hear the declaration before even knowing what senju’s signed you up for.
“huh?” you ask dumbly, “coming where.”
“party.”
senju promised she’d stay by your side all night. you don’t know anyone here. yuzuha’s attending some nerdy event for her girlfriend, emma’s doing body shots with ken, hinata’s likely got her hand down hanagaki’s pants in one of the bedrooms and senju has disappeared without a trace. so you’re stuck here, in the corner of a vast room of party goers who pay no mind to you and your poor solo cup that almost gets knocked and spilt multiple times.
“oi,” a hand above your head and a heavy body pins you to the wall. “havin’ fun?” a drawling voice that belongs to no other than baji keisuke speaks from over you, eyes rimmed red and a cheeky smile on his face. he reeks of weed and cigarettes, his breath of vodka.
“fuck off, baji.” you try and duck underneath his arms but he’s persistent, pressing his chest flush to yours, you don’t miss the little peek down your top he takes.
“hey. ‘m talkin’ to ya.” he grunts, “don’t give me all that attitude. i know ya want it, a little birdie told me i’m all you think about.” baji’s eyes narrow, a glint of amusement, maybe something else — he leans down, breath fanning your face, dark hair falling and framing his face. hinata must’ve let it slip. damn her. your cheeks heat up, fixing a frown onto your face.
“i listen to you talk shit about your dick every fucking day.” you jab a manicured nail at the exposed skin of his chest, it almost snaps because the man is built like a fucking beast, he’s showing more cleavage than the average freshman.
“talkin’ shit?” he sneers, “what, think ‘m lying or somethin’?” baji’s near snarls, canines revealed through the curling of his upper lip. god. he’s like a fucking dog. “want me to show you, doll? wanna see what you’re missin’ out on?” he taunts, and he’s so insufferable, you agree just to make the biggest hole in his ego when you call his shrivelled up shrimp of a dick small. unfortunately, no god seems to be on your side when he rather brazenly tugs down his pants mid-thigh to show you the giant length that rests against it. and it’s fucking flaccid. “you’re droolin’, doll.”
unconsciously, you raise a hand to wipe the non-existent drool from your chin. fuck. it’s pretty too. darker than his honey-toned skin, a velvety looking head, the more you look the harder and bigger it gets. you want him in your mouth now. “c’mere, doll, want a taste?” he jeers, patting the edge of the bed and like a fool you position yourself how he wants you. head hanging over the edge so he can fuck his dick deep down your throat. “take it.” baji ignores the little garbled protest you let out, salty precum trickles from the tip and oozes onto your tongue. the taste momentarily distracts you from the way he continues to grow and harden, bigger and fatter by the minute, heavy on your tongue and it’s making your jaw ache. “good girl, god — gotta big fuckin’ mouth on you.” he lets out a breathless chuckle, head tilting back as you take all he has to give. no one’s been able to go this far.
you gargle and gag and choke. drool drips down your chin and you choke. a messy sight. slobbering over his dick till he feels ready to burst. your throat is bulging and burning so good. only then does baji pull out, watching as you gasp for a breath, coughing a little and sitting up so fast your head spins. he looks dishevelled, long strands of black locks stick to his face, panting as though he’s thoroughly fucked out, it makes you feel proud of your work and dedication to his dick.
“take it off,” baji mumbles, fumbling with his own button up, he wrestles with your strappy top and then easily takes off your skirt, tossing it to the floor in a heap along with his own clothing. “think you can take it, doll? think it’s gonna fit in this little cunt?”
you’re determined to get it to fit. you’ll make him eat you out till he’s got lockjaw. “gonna fit. it will.” you tell him, the second his fingers touch your clit, your back arches off the mattress that belongs to the poor host. oversensitive. pent up. you haven’t had a good orgasm in god knows when. “please,” you whimper, fingers threading through his hair as baji’s lips pucker around your twitching clit. “please, please, please-“ you chant, eyes rolling back the more fingers he inserts inside your clenching hole. one. two. three. then you start to struggle, so he focuses on getting you nice and sloppy, ready to at least take even an inch of his gargantuan cock. your thighs are wet, his nose, chin and cheeks glisten with your arousal and the remains of your previous highs. you’re already tired and he’s just getting started.
baji’s energy is endless, evident in the way he so eagerly spreads you open, tongue working along your slit and fingers insistently scissoring open your stubborn pussy without cramping even once. “gonna fuck you now.” he states, trying to hide the excitement that creeps into his voice at the prospect of actually getting to fuck a real life pussy rather than his fist.
“keisuke,” your nails dig into his back the minute he sinks in, the leaky, bulbous head of his fat cock stretches you unbelievably far. another inch and you can’t breathe, a few more and you feel as if you’re going to burst at the seams. two more and he’s splitting you in half. the burn is pleasurable, his thumb is doing its job, rubbing your clit and pinching it so your greedy cult relaxes and sucks him in further.
“that’s it, doin’ so well for me, doll. good fuckin’ girl, huh? good girl, takin’ my cock like a fuckin’ champ. shit - ya look so fuckin’ hot.” he’s groaning above you, eyes glued to the sight of you taking him better than any pussy has before. you scratch at his back, shakily inhaling as his girth grows thicker and thicker from tip to base. endless words of praise fall from his lips every step of the way, “god, you’re so pretty, doll. good girl, look at this greedy, little cunt - takin’ my cock with no complaints.” baji’s in awe, jaw going lax when you tighten around him with a small whimper, lower lip wobbling.
“keisuke,” you sniffle, “it’s so big.” he presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead, drawing out slowly and pushing back in at the same pace. his thrusts are long and deep, bruising your cervix and hitting all the right spots. there’s a dumb smile on your face, he’s fucked you stupid already.
“i know it is, doll,” he coos, “stay with me, yeah?” his chain dangles in front of your face, and in your cockdrunk state, you grow annoyed at the constant feeling of cold metal tickling your cheeks. baji shivers when the clink of your teeth biting the thin chain hits his ears, you draw him closer this way, he’s grinding his cock into you, balls getting covered in your slick and pubic bone rubbing against your little clit.
“fuck… keisuke— ‘s so good,” you babble, tits bouncing as baji’s thrusts grow quicker, eyes rolling back and tongue lolling out like you’re a bitch in heat. his chain is forgotten, you’re more focused on cumming; reaching between your two erratic bodies and thumbing your clit. “ah, keisuke, ‘s good, i love it-“ you gurgle, nonsensical words leaving your lips in whimpers and whispers.
“i know, baby. i know.” baji croons, voice coated in sugar, “dick so good my baby can’t think, hm?” your pussy gushes around him, squirting around his girth, the sound is downright filth, squelching and slapping. wet sounds that filter into his ears and drive him on. “that’s it, baby, do it for me again, one more time, cum for me.” baji’s cock throbs, he’s gonna fucking bust, you’re the best pussy he’s ever fucked. one of the only cunts that have managed to take him. one last sloppy thrust has you streaming like a burst pipe, wetting the sheets and his abdomen and the shaft of his fat cock. all is a mess and yet all you can focus on is the overwhelming amount of cum that floods your pretty, little cunt.
you hiccup, stuttered breaths and sniffles are all you can manage when your body is so fucked out. baji’s heavy body crumples on top of you, his head nestled in your neck where you feel sharp teeth press into the skin and a few sloppy kisses. his cock slips out, allowing the load inside of you to leak out steadily into the sheets. his laboured breathing is heard in your ear, both your chests rising and falling in time. next time, you’ll do no such thing as doubt baji keisuke.
the next time baji keisuke talks shit about his dick, you’re sitting right beside him, on his lap in fact, on the table you had once scorned so much. “know how much dick can fit inside this little thing?” he slaps your back, he would’ve patted your crotch, but that would be even less appreciated than the gross comment he made just now.
“so it wasn’t a lie, huh?” senju’s legs are bouncing up and down, shaking the table. “aren’t you glad i left you all alone?” her and hinata argue for a few minutes on who they think really set you and baji up. you can barely wrap your head around the fact you’d agree to go on a date with such an arrogant asshole, although, now you see that baji can be sweet. you’ve seen him talk fondly about the cat he has back home, and his mom, and how much she’d like to meet you, that she’d be so glad he has a solid girlfriend now. huh. you guess girl talk isn’t all bullshit. it landed you a boyfriend with a heart as big as his dick.
Real human lives matter more than fictional characters. Even characters and stories that mean a lot to you. People matter more than fandoms. If you bully and harass people because of their ships or headcanons, you need to stop and reevaluate things
idk if anyone remembers this one tiktok audio, but it’s from that 70s show and it’s where jackie n steve are trying to explain their relationship to everyone. yk the one where jackie’s saying “he’s not my boyfriend!” while steve agrees with her “i’m not her boyfriend! they just don’t get it.” and she says “why would they? let’s go baby.” and steve follows after her?
➳ tags ;; improper bdsm practices (pls discuss smth like this fr w ur partner), 18+, fem!reader, heavy petplay (crawling, commands, collar and leash), the petnames pet and puppy used once, oral (f!recieving), fingering, multiple orgasms, porn with plot, squirting, unprotected sex, humilation a little bit, gojo is a menace to society, alcohol, praise, "good girl", gojo is a little obsessive, mutually bad at feelings, a confession at the end. lmk if i missed anything!!!
➳ wc ;; 8.7k (im sick. im so sick)
➳ a/n ;; the gojo brainrot has been fucking insane. also very lazy banner, lemme live. special thanks to @katonshoko who is the only reason my fics r readable. love u
➳ synopsis ;; gojo satoru has been your mentor for 4 whole years and not once has he uttered a word of praise for you. it bugs you. you know it shouldn't.
Gojo Satoru has never been easy to read.
Well.. kinda.
You would say for the most part, he’s hard to read in the sense - he’s unpredictable. He doesn’t follow routine and he hardly does what people expect of him. It’s hard to know his next move and it’s even harder to try and place any reason on his actions. At least for the average person - nothing he does makes sense.
But, you’ve been under his mentorship for the better part of three years. After years of following him around in missions and in general - you understand some things very well. For example - the fact that he’s more often than not calculating even his most ridiculous move. Gojo is hardly thoughtless. Part of it is chaos, but a larger part of it is an eye for the bigger picture. It’s all thought-out carefully.
You know that. You know he never does things without thinking about them, and that things only seem reckless because Gojo lives without consequence. Being a sorcerer, religion is lost on you - but you think Gojo would be on the average person's radar as some kind of higher power. He has a bad habit of ignoring other people's agency unless it has to do with whether they’ll live through something he does. He doesn't enjoy unnecessary tragedy and his god complex is more like an overpowered savior complex than anything else.
You don’t know much about him other than what he tells you, his whole life shrouded in mystery but he has a hatred for all things related to the major clans and an overwhelming urge to make sure that he doesn't die before he fulfills whatever he believes is his duty. You know he’s the strongest, the most powerful - but you can’t help but find his life to be a little too tragic. Stories of his past are told too casually, and you force a laugh out of sympathy that Gojo seems to appreciate. He doesn’t like thinking about it either.
Decidedly, knowing him the way you do, you’re lenient with him. You fell into being his apprentice after learning the visions you saw were curses and you’d been exercising them for years. It was all very circumstantial and sudden - most things in the sorcerer's world are. Given your innate abilities - you figured you’d just be doing some low-level work and going about your life. They’d give you simple training and then that’d be that. You’d already been risking your life and knowing the danger, so your circumstances were a bit different from the rest.
You still remember the conversation you’d had with Principal Yaga who offered you the position, and how in the direct aftermath - you had bumped into Gojo in the hallway. He was tall and much broader than his clothes seemed to show given the force of it. You remember very distinctly that he took one look at you, and promptly told the principal you would be under his care. It had shocked you so much you almost choked on your own spit. Worse, the Principal protested but ultimately didn’t refuse.
And at the very end, Gojo comes back and shakes your hand with a bright smile and an impishness to him.
“Nice to meet you, Apprentice. I’m Gojo Satoru and I’m the strongest.”
You would argue since that very moment - your relationship to Gojo had been exceedingly complicated.
That’s the thing really. Despite your position as his apprentice for 3 years and having been at his side for this long - you really still don’t know how to tell what Gojo is really feeling.
You have guesses and most of the time, those guesses are correct. When there’s no personal bias attached to it, you’re pretty concise and decisive. You sorta have to be when you’re around Gojo who will genuinely make insane decisions based on the flip of a coin. You’ve come to learn what his cues are - bits of his humanity showing through the blinds at random moments. When his student, Itadori Yuuji, died temporarily ― you saw it first hand. The feather in his jaw and the anger.
Despite how he tries, Gojo tends to have a lot of feelings. It’s interesting to see when his humanity escapes him. Always at seemingly random times like during the summer festival eating Taiyaki or on a Sunday afternoon doing paperwork. The reminder that he’s human is always odd, but you’ve learned by now that he is. No matter how much he tries not to be, Gojo is human and has human emotions that you understand.
When it comes to most scenarios - you’ve got a solid 9/10 on knowing what Gojo is really feeling. Sometimes, very rarely, he gives you a look that indicates you’ve nailed it. It’s always gone before you can really let it sink in, but it’s comforting. This strange and complicated relationship - patching up his injuries in your apartment bathroom and falling asleep in the same room but never together. There’s always a little distance, enough to leave things uncomplicated for the most part. You ultimately try not to examine your relationship too closely. The most horrifying thing would be finding something more.
You just... try to think of it as a mentor mentee relationship. You could call it choosing to be dense, but you think self-preservation is important in this line of work and admitting that your feelings for Gojo is anything more than work related would probably put you in an early grave. Even if you accept it, you don’t think it would change much about your working relationship. Or maybe, you’re not sure how it would.
Truthfully, the idea that Gojo could show you affection kind of weirds you out, but you crave it anyways.
That’s the other half of all of this. You’ve been working with Gojo all this time and you can’t really figure out how or what he feels for you. Mostly because he hardly ever.. praises you.
You know what it sounds like. It feels like a silly complaint. But you’ve been in all kinds of work environments before and you think it’s pretty standard to get.. feedback from the person above you. Your mentor is supposed to guide and teach you - and while Gojo does a good job at directing you, he doesn’t give you more than that. He barely gives you anything.
At first, you thought it was unintentional. After all, Gojo doesn’t seem like the type to dish out praise for nothing. It only really struck you as intentional when you went on a mission with him and Nanami and Nanami sang you genuine praise over a move you had pulled where Gojo didn’t even acknowledge it. Ever since then, you've thought it over carefully and realized that Gojo has.. never given you praise. Not explicitly, even one time in the 3 years you’ve been working together.
He’s certainly capable. You’ve heard him gush over his students' abilities, rightfully so. Even Nanami has been on the receiving end. Gojo might be powerful but he has no vested interest in being the best in a cocky way. He’s pretty earnest in that right.
But with you… you’ve never even heard a simple good job or a fist bump after a hard mission. For a long time, you’d wondered why that is. With Gojo, you can deduce two things.
Firstly, it is completely intentional. Secondly, it’s an important part of some long con. You know Gojo well enough to consider these two things: facts, indomitable truths. The part that you are lost on is the why, which is a common occurrence with Gojo.
Why is he not giving you praise? You can think of a couple of reasons but none of them seem to stick out to you. One reason is that maybe he’s trying to prepare you. Almost like a test of your abilities and spirits as a sorcerer, which would be plausible if he didn’t so often give praise to his peers and students.
The more you think about it, that’s really the only solid reason you can think of and that hardly has two legs to stand on.
Overall, it'd been a rocky thing to navigate. For the sake of your own sanity, you put it on the back burner. You’ve managed to swallow the pit in your throat. Suppress the yearning all the way in your chest whenever you two come back from an especially tough mission. Like many things with Gojo, you’ve learned it’s best not to think about it so you choose not to.
But just like Gojo, you are often reminded that you are indeed humans. And sometimes your emotions come out into the world, raw and unfettered.
Always against your better judgement.
__
Work dinners are not your thing.
You’d think as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, you’d finally be free from them. After all, this doesn’t really seem like a line of work that could entertain something so frivolous. You’d of course been wrong. You learn the hard way that these kinds of social formalities are still implemented in such a career as sorcery and thus, you’ve been to quite a few formal work dinners in the last three years. Most of them were spent with Nanami, who also doesn’t drink more than a glass or two. You two divulge in average world conversation like the economy and the price of fish and it’s boring, but relaxing.
This work dinner however is actually for you, technically. This will be another year of working with Gojou so they’ve dubbed it a celebration. You can’t imagine why it would be necessary and were fully prepared to reject it - but of course, Gojo stepped in and insisted you go and take a night off. He even promised to stay sober so you didn’t have to be the designated driver. You still were going to say no.
But, the week of the dinner, your job had become especially tough. You were on your own for a handful of higher level missions and decided that a drink on company dime wouldn’t be so bad - so you agreed to it and called it a day. You wore your most comfortable formal clothes and even put on a little more makeup than usual.
It’d become increasingly harder to be around Gojo since your little revelation - so once you got to the restaurant, you took it upon yourself to cozy up to the bar and the barkeep. It’s a nice spot, dim lights and big tables and not too many people or too few. It had some high-end art on the walls, painted a deep color. Pictures of celebrities with the staff. It was just busy enough, a hole in the wall spot that sorcerer's liked to frequent. A lot of familiar faces were there, most of which you said hello too in passing.
You practically downed your first drink. Exhausted from a tough week of work and the combined stress of Gojo and his lingering gaze gave little choice for anything else. Two shots and then mixed drinks that could probably black out someone three times your size that you’d spend the rest of the evening sipping on. Relishing the heat blooming in your body, you drink to your heart's content.
You avoid speaking to Gojo at all costs. Didn’t sit next to him during dinner and always removed yourself from conversation when he seemed to join. You’d latched onto the defenseless Utahime and Shoko, both of them amused at your antics and clear inability to handle as much alcohol as you were drinking. A large part of your night was spent leaning on Shoko’s shoulder and babbling about nothing as she stroked your head affectionately. The two of them ended up going home earlier in the night - leaving you to fend for yourself, in the care of Nanami and Gojo and a few more.
Towards the end of the night, Gojo manages to catch you alone. You’re outside, sitting at a table and nursing a vodka soda that doesn’t have even a sip taken from it. You don’t register him until he’s sitting across from you. It startles you enough that you jump back - relaxing a little when you realize it’s just him. He’s pleasantly surprised by that detail, given the way you’ve dodged him all night.
“You’re not running away this time.” he comments - halfway between agitated and bemused. You give him a blank stare, brows furrowed together before shaking your head and groaning.
“No.. I can’t. But… I should. Should.. run away.”
Your voice is slurred as you speak, a soft hiccup making its way out of your chest. You groan right after, pinching the bridge of your nose exhaustedly. Gojo is mostly endeared by your sorry state, unable to stay mad for too long. He attempts to suppress his minor irritation and mostly he does. He knows cornering you while you’re this wasted is a little petty in it’s own right - but doesn’t stop him.
“Why should you run away from your mentor?”
You bark a laugh. It borders caustic but tapers off into an exhausted sigh. You fold your arms on the table and Gojo carefully takes the drink away from your sight. He watches as you fumble , face smushed into your arms.
“Yerr not even m’ mentor. You don’t even,” you hiccup again, grunting “you don’t even care. The worst..”
He can’t help but be amused again. This time that you’re being honest with your feelings, what you notice. You have a tendency to suppress it all unless Gojo forces you to let it out. Neither party free from the other, he laughs. The aggression in your voice dies off almost instantly as you let out another sigh, drunken mind uninterested in whatever it had been before. This time you pick your head up.
To his surprise, you reach for his outstretched hand. His grin grows as he watches you play with his fingers, dropping your cheek onto the palm of his hand like your head is too heavy. His hand cups around your jaw and lifts your face up. You’re cute like that, flushed and lips formed into an earnest pout.
“I wish…” you trail off, sighing. Gojo raises his brows.
“You wish?”
“Wish I was a pet. Then ― hic ― I wouldn’t havta’ think about anything. I could just eat and sleep and not worry everrr again.”
He laughs at the way you draw out the last syllables.
“A pet, huh.”
“Hey.. hey Gojo.” you prompt, blinking slowly. He hums in reply.
“If I was a pet, would you finally praise me. Like would you uhm..would you tell me I did a good job if I were a cute pet or something?”
This time, Gojo laughs. It’s loud and boisterous and horrendously affectionate and despite how miserably drunk you are - you still flush at the sound. And your heart races as his thumb drags across your lower lip. HIs eyes feel like they’ll swallow you up as he gives it an honest moment.
“Is that what you want?” he poses. And you freeze, exhaustion sweeping over you as you close your eyes and slowly lose your will to be awake. You nod a little, drooling.
“Yeah.. I wan’ that…”
__
The day after your drunk work-dinner, you are horrified to wake up and realize you remember everything.
You’d been incredibly intoxicated that night, more than your average - so most of the night existed in bits and pieces. At no point, however, did you black out. In fact, you have a very good memory of Gojo and your stupid conversation with him. You’d prayed to your fucking stars that he would let go your drunken commentary.
But let’s be fucking real, it’s Gojo. There was no way on god's green fucking Earth he was going to let that go. The very next morning, he made note to tell his students that he was considering getting a new pet before giving you his most shit-eating grin as you promptly packed your shit and left.
You’d already been avoiding Gojo, even before that night. But now, you made it your life's mission to make as little contact with him as humanly possible.
Not only did you immediately overload yourself with work to avoid having even a passing confrontation with that night's events, you almost begged Principal Yaga not to pair you up with Gojo temporarily. Luckily for you, Gojo’s reputation precedes him, so he didn’t hesitate to switch up your schedule. He did explain however that given the fact Gojo is still your technical mentor, he would have to approve of any schedule changes.
Gojo, once again to your surprise, did sign off on the schedule change. He approved about a month of it, through Principal Yaga meaning you didn’t have to confront him about the situation at all, thank god. You’re not the type to run from difficult situations, but Gojo Satoru is more than just one difficult situation.
You know him well enough to know that the moment you’re alone, whatever he tells you will be devastating in some way. Whatever words leave his mouth after that miserable and awkward encounter will make you wish the Earth swallowed you - the humiliation you feel just remembering is enough to make you want to quit. You know you’ll have to deal with it eventually, but you like this job. Despite yourself and it, you like it and you hope to keep doing it.
And the last thing you want is to suffer the wrath of Gojo Satoru. Whatever he says to you will make you black out with embarrassment and to be incredibly frank - you believe this is the best way to make sure all parties are happy. Gojo can continue his life unworried about your drunken commentary and you can go back to work and things would be fine and good.
They were fine and good.
For about one month and seventeen days, exactly.
But who’s counting, right?
One month and seventeen days you managed to evade the ever present Gojo Satoru. You know that he’s definitely giving you the space, and you’re grateful. Gojo isn’t the type to just.. not see you. If he found it that urgent, he would invite himself into your next mission without so much as a second thought. You knew you would have to face a confrontation eventually - that much is natural. You figured he might tease you about it for a bit and you’d face some mild humiliation and things would go back to normal eventually. You’d have to thank him and properly say sorry.
On the 48th day of avoiding Gojo, it’s Yuuji who comes to find you in your office.
“Y/N Sensei!”
Yuuji barrels through your door almost like he’s out of breath. You blink at him as he bends over to catch his breath in the doorway. Your brow raises as you listen to his sneakers scuffle as he attempts to collect himself.
“Don’t call me sensei, I’m not a teacher. What is it?”
He gives you his brightest and most oblivious smile.
“Sorry Miss. Gojo sensei wanted to talk to you!”
You feel your stomach drop. Your heart immediately jumps into your throat as you just barely suppress your reaction. Yuuji is oblivious to it, and you get this sickly feeling that him being the one to tell you as intentional. You cough.
“Oh.. is that so? Did he uhm.. did he say anything else?”
Yuuji pauses but shakes his head.
“Uh.. no. I don’t think so. Are you alright, by the way? You look sick.”
You give him a half-hearted smile.
“I’m fine, Yuuji. Thanks.”
--
The door of Gojo’s apartment has never been so intimidating to you before.
You’ve been a handful of times. A couple of late nights spent showering in his apartment, crashing on his couch - you’ve never felt like this before. The white door almost mocks you. You take in a deep breath as you reach your hand forward and you knock. 3 times, unsure of what to do with yourself.
On the other side of the door, you hear some shuffling and before you know it - you’re confronted with the sight of Gojo. He’s massive. You always forget how much he tends to loom over you. He’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt and some black sweatpants. He has a pair of glasses on for his eyes and his hair is down, wet and dripping down his shoulders. He sports a towel around his neck. You gasp a little when you look at him.
His expression is unreadable as he cracks a smile.
“Oh, so you made it?”
You nod awkwardly. You shove your hands into your pockets, nervously playing with the string that’s been frayed.
“Yuuji said you wanted to speak to me.”
He leans against the door frame and you have to force yourself to look anywhere else. You can’t tell what he’s feeling but your anxiety is ever present. His gaze is sharp and piercing, enough to make you feel uncomfortable where you stand. The tension is thick enough to cut through, hard and heavy. After what feels like years, he sighs and stands up - still smiling.
“Come in.”
He steps aside and makes room for you. You unlace your shoes and pick them up - placing them on the rack to his doorway. He drops slippers for you to change into, to which you meekly thank as you slip your feet in. He shuts the door when you’re crouched down and then walks to his living room without addressing you.
You follow him meekly, trudging behind him.
. It’s getting dark out now, the big window opens to see the view of Tokyo below. Gojo’s always been well-off but his apartment is a good reminder. A large L-shaped black couch, a plush and printed carpet, a coffee table furnished and a flat-screen hung on the wall. There’s art too, a little dreary but it’s nice for a single man in his late 20’s.
You watch Gojo as he sits on the couch with legs spread. He’s impossibly broad. His clothes are often baggy, so it’s hard to tell. But when he sits, you can see it. His chest is broad like he works out regularly, but his waist is thin. You force your eyes away from the muscle in his thigh, instead training them on the floor. Gojo sighs a little, tilting his head back with a warm sigh.
“Do you know why I called you here?”
You nod your head shamefully.
“Yes, and I’m so sorry. It was super inappropriate of me, and I shouldn't've been getting so drunk in the first place -”
You hear him sigh and then click his teeth.
“You still don’t have the right idea, yknow? What you’re sorry for.”
The tone of his voice is.. odd. To say the least. You look up at him for the first time and there’s something there that you’re unused to. Something like genuine frustration, or anger - it’s not what you normally get from him. It’s masked underneath a layer of feelings - grin and a playful tone, but it’s there all the same. Just barely on your tongue, you blink at him confused.
Before you can question him, Gojo leans forward. He’s got this smile on his face as he shakes his head, and sighs.
“Do you still want to be praised like a pet?”
You gape at him, mouth open as you rush to put your hands up and shake your head.
“I wasn’t ― ! Gojo, I was just being -”
“It’s a simple yes or no question, you know? Just be honest. Do you want to be praised?”
You notice the change in wording, and your mouth clamps shut. You give him a stare as a shiver runs down your spine and adrenaline pumps into your vein. And whatever direction you expected this to go gets thrusted promptly away from you. With a cottony mouth and your hands clenched, you nod sheepishly. Against your better judgement, you nod.
And Gojo smiles, a real smile. He takes his glasses off and his eyes are intense.
“Good. Do you want me to praise you?”
You nod again.
“Good, you’re being especially honest today. One more time, do you want to be my pet?”
You can’t mask your shock, or your surprise. A gasp tumbles clumsily out of your mouth, and you watch as Gojo reaches forward on the table to a white box. He opens it easily, and there’s a collar and leash tucked underneath some tissue paper. You watch as he draws it to his lap.
“Sit.”
Your eyes widen at the request. Something deep in your stomach churns, hands fisted at your side clenching even tighter. You stare, and stare - and the smugness in his isn’t lost on you. Even with those glasses on, the hand on the leash and his lips quirked in the corner give you all the affirmation you need to know.
He’s serious, deadly serious. About the pet part, about the praise - all of it. Up until this moment, you had some semblance of faith that this was another stupid joke. It’s something he would do. You ignored your instinct, the feeling in your gut. Much to your dismay, Gojo is serious. More than serious.
He tilts his head to one side, and goes just a little soft. More honest than you’ve ever seen in your life.
“You can call off whenever you want.” He assures, like this is a line he won’t cross. Even someone like him has his limits, you figure. You stare at his big hands around the nice leather collar. You stare at the leash. And you stare at him, the little smile on his face and you ignore your pride. Instead, you press your ear to the fire in your gut and sigh - a shaky sigh.
And you do what he asks again. Almost like you’re under a spell, or worse - of your own volition. Against your better judgement, you sit on your knees and stare at the floor. You hear Gojo let out this sweet sigh as he steps up and walks towards you. He crouches to be at your level. His nimble fingers trace your jaw, and he tilts your head up. You watch as he slides his glasses back a little - and your eyes meet. It’s intense, a deep blue that you feel like you’ll fall apart under.
“Chin up, pet.” he instructs, and it sends a shiver down your back. His fingers undo the clasp of the collar and he secures it around your neck with a warm smile. Briefly, the little hook of the leash ends up in the front of your collar - and clanks softly against the tag that has “G.S” engraved in it. His fingers trace over it.
“Good girl.”
He sits back down onto the couch - and the leash extends across the room. You feel the gentlest tug as Gojo sits on the opposite end of the couch. He relaxes into it, the leather squeaks under the weight of his body and he tilts his head back, tugging just a little harder.
“Now, come.”
Your hands tremble. And your body feels so hot under your clothes as humiliation runs through you. It’s a terrible feeling, the heat in your gut. Your mind feels like it’s swimming. His intent is to have you crawl towards him, this much is more than clear to you. Your palms hit the carpet floor, and your head drops.
Your eyes are screwed shut, but you do as he says. Your body moves of its own volition, high off of the feeling of praise and preening. It’s a drug of its own, so you push through. You crawl towards him on your hands and knees, only stopping when you’ve reached his knees. You kneel at his feet, unsure of what to do as your heart hammers so painfully. You’re not sure what you should feel, so you wait on him.
Gojo laughs. It’s warm, and condescending but affectionate nonetheless. You feel his big hands come around your face as he leans forward. He still manages to tower above you as he cups your cheeks in his palms. His thumb brushes underneath your eyes as he makes you look at him. You only barely manage too. His eyes are as pretty as always - entrancing like a universe is behind them. You still don’t know how he feels, what to make of any of this but Gojo’s smile is so bright and so soft. And you melt, just a little when he smiles at you.
“You really are like a pet, y'know? You listen so obediently to everything I say, and you whine when I don’t pay attention to you. Would you eat from my hands if I asked you too?”
Your immediate fluster is enough of an answer. He laughs under his breath.
“Yeah? You’re acting shy about it. If you’re going to be a pet, you’ll have to show me you can listen to your owner.”
You swallow thickly at the word owner
“Look how shy. Will you be shy when I teach you tricks, too? Sit, stay, on your back - simple things like that. Do you think you can do them as long as I praise you?”
You get shy at the implication, eyes flitting away from him. You nod anyway and he grins.
“Good pet. Good girl.”
You try your best to remain unaffected but the phrase good pet sends your entire body reeling. You feel a little dizzy, and you whimper without meaning to. Thighs pressed together, your remaining pride seems to crumple into nothing.
“Do you trust your mentor?”
“Y-yes.”
He smiles at you.
“Good. Follow my lead.”
For a moment, you’re not sure what he means. Before you can question it, Gojo is learning forward and kissing you on the lips. Your gut reaction is to yelp a little, his soft lips moving against yours. Gojo’s mouth moves like the rest of him, it’s a fluid gesture. They’re pillowy to the touch and so much nicer feeling than anyone else you’ve ever kissed. Gojo moves and kisses you carefully, but before you know what's happening - his tongue invades the closed space of your mouth. Before you know it, his hand travels down to the base of your throat and rests there as his tongue nudges against yours. Gently at first then less so.
Suddenly it’s hot and invasive and his tongue feels heavy and wet as he sucks on yours and teases you. You’re falling apart just a little, body gone hot the way Gojo leads you in this messy makeout. Your head blanks out like you’ve checked out of space and time.
When he pulls away, you’re breathless. Out of your league, you’re nervous to open your eyes. Gojo is still right in front of you when you work up the nerve, smiling proudly.
“You like being kissed, pet?”
You nod your head meekly. And he kisses you one more time for good measure.
“Behavel and I’ll kiss you as much as you want. “
Gojo finally pulls back from you with a deep sigh. His hand has the metal of the leash wrapped around it. You feel it when he tugs, or so much as moves. It’s not too constricting, just enough to keep you on your toes. You’re still kneeling at his feet as he gazes at you.
“Crawl into my lap.” is his first course of action. You blink but do what he says. Your hands land on the couch exposed between his thighs and you hoist yourself up halfway. Gojo watches your efforts amused before dragging you into his lap. You rest on your knees between his spread legs. His hands rest at your hips.
“Pets don’t wear this many clothes. Must be uncomfortable for you. Open your mouth and bite”
You open your mouth up like he asks. Gojo places the handle of the leash between your teeth and manually clasps it shut until you’re holding it between your teeth. With his hands free, his fingers trace up your thigh. They’re long and slender, dancing against your waist and brushing on the skin underneath your sweater you’d worn to work. Your heart pounds as Gojo’s fingers grab on the fabric.
“Lift your arms.”
You do, eyes closed as you feel Gojo strip your sweater off your body until you’re bare. He makes sure that the leash doesn’t get caught as he shimmies you out of your top - left with nothing but your chest in his line of sight. You don’t drop your arms as he inspects your body a little closer. His mouth is mischievous - warm as it drags kisses down your neck. His hands are massive but your tits fit perfectly in the palms. He gives them enough of a squeeze that you shift. He curls his pointer finger into a hook, trailing around your nipples until he finally gives them a harsh pinch. Enough to make you cry out, garbled by your teeth holding down on the leather.
He’s got this look of endearment at the way your nipples poke off the soft fabric of your bra - the cream color making the shape obvious. They’re hard under his touch, goosebumps littered on the valley for your sternum. He doesn’t bother taking your bra off properly at first. Instead, he tugs the material down your torso enough so they look like they’re spilling.
“Arms down. Hold onto me.” He tells you, and you do, arms around his neck as he ducks down and closes his moistened mouth onto the first one. His free hand gropes whatever remaining - and arousal spikes your clit as he does. The drag of his tongue against the sensitive nerves, hot mouth sucking onto them as you whimper. The makeshift gag has drool running pitifully down your chin, dripping a little onto your neck and chest as Gojo sucks little marks into the skin. You’re so horny, you’re almost delirious - mind gone blank as Gojo paws at your tits. He gives you a gentle bite that makes you let out the most broken noise of want.
He laughs under his breath.
“You’re drooling like a real pet, huh? Does it feel that good?”
You nod and shake at the sound of his voice.
“Cute. Is it drooling down there too? If I get you naked, it’ll be a mess won’t it?”
You don’t answer, swallowing back a ragged noise. Gojo removes the leash from between your lips gently - wiping the saliva on your belly with a laugh.
“When puppies want attention, they normally get on their backs, right? Present yourself to your owner, yeah?”
You give Gojo wide eyes but he doesn’t respond or say anything. The expectation is obvious. Much to your humiliation - you listen. Of course you do. Your whole body aches to hear another word of Gojo’s praise. Another cute, another good girl. Anything else becomes white noise as your body yearns harder for his approval. You crawl out of his lap, on your knees onto the couch.
Carefully, you flip over to be on your back. Your legs dangle a little in the air as you spread them out. You fold your hands up to sell it. You look like a pet, a pretty thing presenting themselves to their owner for attention. And Gojo looks like he wants to eat you alive. Your nervous expression meshes well with your neediness. Without a second thought, he puts the leash between your teeth again.
With that out of the way, the cool metal of the chain on your bare skin - you watch as Gojo’s fingers hook into your bottoms aside from your panties. He’s so strong - it’s not something you get to see like this. But the way he lifts your legs up to get your bottoms all the way off and discard them somewhere on the floor makes your mind feel like it’ll melt. You watch as he folds your legs up like they’d had been - spreads them out. You watch as he gets face to face with your sex. He takes in a sharp breath, a deep inhale as you squirm with shame and humiliation. He’s so close. Everything Gojo does makes you feel like he’s taking careful note of you.
After all, the strongest hardly takes interest in things he can’t break.
“Your pussy is already wet and messy. I didn’t even touch you. You that eager to please me?”
You whimper a little, soundless as Gojo rests the butt of his palm on your belly. His thumb drags against your cunt, throbbing underneath the fabric. His lips quirk up. It sticks to your folds, extra to your swollen clit.
“Ngghh”
Gojo chuckles as he stares. Blue eyes drinking in the sight - your cotton panties and how they’ve darkened from arousal. The slight twitch in your movements makes him keen with affection. He leans into your thigh and bites down, enough to leave a mark. He does it once, then twice - until the insides of your legs look almost bruised and your whole body shakes from lust and need. Your hands are fisted at your chest, curled into yourself like you’re not sure what to do. Your ankle stretches as you keen, a heaving pant leaving your as Gojo drags his tongue over sensitive marks. Everythings a mess - and your mind is molten. Gojo’s expression is saccharine, tongue across bottom lip as he watches you hold yourself together so tensely.
You really will do anything he asks, won’t you?
“God, you’re so cute. So cute and you like being cute. You like it when I praise you.” it’s more of an observation.
You don’t miss the coo in his words, the subtle way he patronizes you with each word. You’re not in any place to deny it. You do like it, you like when he calls you cute even though he’s mocking you a little. Maybe that makes you like it more - something about someone like Gojo taking time out to notice you at all. He’s lofty and unapproachable but here he is anyways, long fingers teasing around your pussy and showing you affection. Maybe there’s some pride to take in being his pet, his favorite thing. There’s a devotion to it, a kind of devotion only he could show.
Somehow, it feels good to be worthy of his time. You resent it but it feels so good. He makes it feel stupidly and numbingly good.
Gojo finally decides to give a little bit of leeway as slides your panties off. You can feel how they stick to your pussy as he slides the thin and beaten material off. He tucks it into the pocket of his sweatpants before using his hands to spread your legs out further. You watch through lidded eyes as he presses his cheek against your thigh.
“I keep calling you cute, but you really are. You keep twitching.. are you happy to see me. Is my cute little pet excited?”
Your voice is shot for the most part, but in your best interest - you nod. Gojo takes notice, grabbing the leash and curling around his hands. It’s just long enough that it doesn’t get in the way.
“Yeah.. ‘m e-excited.” you manage hoarsely. Gojo’s brows lift like he’s just won the lottery. You still don’t have any idea how Gojo sees you - but that’s really what makes this fun.
Something about his dependable and professional mentee on his couch like this is making him feel greedy. The idea of anyone else in the world seeing this side of you fills him with vitriol but seeing it before his eyes makes his cock twitch. It has a life of it’s own by now, making sure to take in every and any image of you like this so he can burn it into his brain.
You look so vulnerable, so needy - out of touch with anything but your desire. You entrust yourself to Gojo thoughtlessly. Is it wrong to say he likes being your weak spot? You’re his, so it balances out, right?
“You’re naive like a pet too. All this because you want me to treasure you.”
He clicks his teeth a little but laughs again. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs and his nose nudges against your navel with a loving laugh.
“Too fucking cute.”
Without another warning - you feel Gojo's mouth. He kisses the hood of your clit as a welcome. His palms massage your thighs, travelling until they’re flat underneath your knees as he brings your legs over his shoulders. You gasp as Gojo buries his face between your legs without hesitation. His disregard for anything other than making you feel good makes your stomach curl onto itself. Any hesitation you have fades his tongue drags through your folds.
You hardly expect your sanity to remain intact, but when Gojo lets out a deep guttural groan while he’s tongue-deep in your cunt, you know you never stood a chance. It makes your whole body shake - the raw desire in his throat. He makes it sounds like he’s found respite in the taste of you after years of being without it. It’s not unexpected for you that Gojo is good at this. He’s good at reading his cues, good at knowing how to make you feel good. But what is unexpected is the mess of his desire - the raw edge to how he touches you like he needs you.
It’s never occurred to you before, before that moment in particular that maybe Gojo Satoru needs you. Needs to feel you. But the way his mouth worships your cunt is nothing if not convincing. His tongue is hot and heavy and desperate against your needy clit. His nose is a pretty shape, and it feels good when it nudges your clit. You can tell how much he wants you from the way his tongue smooths flat against your clit, the movement broad and intentional. The pleasure is immense and it feels like some kind of sin.
He sucks it into his mouth expertly, and he drools on it. He eats it with a certain kind of yearning, and it has you in it’s spell like a magic. You can barely get yourself together, your hands trembling. They thread themselves through his white hairs with a whimper and there’s something sudden. It’s tight in your stomach, your whole body tensed with desire.
“O-oh, oh, please -”
Gojo feels your fingers tighten, feels your body start trembling and he doesn’t slow or stop or change. It’s on repetition in his mind, he wants to make you feel so fucking good. He wants to see you cum because of it, because of how he makes you feel. He needs you to see it more than he needs air in his lung so he splits you apart real pretty and makes your clit throb and ache until you get there.
“G-gojo, gonna c-cum. ‘m gonna ― !”
You cum so suddenly it feels blinding. You feel Gojo press down on with the weight of his body, pinning you to the couch as you cum so hard you nearly choke. You thrash - it’s too intense, too much but you can’t do anything but take it. You take it as Gojo pushes you through to the otherside. Of all the orgasms you’ve ever experienced, there’s never been any like this.
You’re limp by the time he decides to take mercy and pull back. Your vision is a little spotty as you blink your eyes open. When you do - you see Gojo grinning. His face is covered in your cum, all the way down to his chin and it’s humiliating.
“Feel good?” he teases. You flush, covering your face with your arms unsure of what to do. He tsks, and you feel his weight shift until he’s on top of you. His hands are big - enough to pin both of yours over your head. He dips his head to drag his tongue along your neck, then he kisses you. You taste yourself on his mouth.
“Part of being a pet is that I get to admire you, you know? So if you cover your face again, I’ll have to discipline you.” He hums. You whimper at the serious tone to his voice and he hides a smile.
“You’re still my good girl. Good pet, maybe I should keep you here forever. The higher-ups won’t say anything. You can eat and sleep and you let me fuck you whenever I want and - I’ll call you you’re a good girl whenever you want.” ― he buries his face in your neck with a hum ― “You won’t have to worry about anything. Sound nice?”
You know he’s saying it in jest, but it makes you whine anyways. You whine when he presses little kisses to the column of your throat. Your hands find themselves on his chest as he meets your eyes for the first time. The intensity of it is borderline crushing, and there’s something there. A fire, or something. You can’t help yourself, though you’re a little distracted as you watch him take off his pants.
You manage to say it, just barely.
“...You wanna keep me forever?”
It makes Gojo stop dead in his tracks. Before he can even take his boxers off, he sits back onto his knees and just sort of stares at you. In disbelief like he’s not sure what to say. He shakes his and his hands curl into fists like he can’t believe his luck. You look a little nervous, a little unsure.
“I just said it, didn’t I?”
Your nose scrunches. His dick twitches against his abdomen and the moment gets lost when you watch him get undressed. You gasp when you see his cock.
It’s pretty. There’s a tuft of white hairs at the base, and it’s so pretty. The tip is all pink and it’s pale - there’s a long vein on one side and it’s curved up. You can’t help but gawk at it. It’s not small, but it doesn’t look like it’ll hurt. It looks like something you want inside of you.
You swallow something in the back of your throat and Gojo doesn’t miss your staring.
“Eyes up here.” he teases. You snap out of your little trance and go to cover your face up with your hands
But you pause, not wanting to get in trouble. Gojo notices, because of course - and the realization dawns on you that you’re more obedient than you remember being before today.
“Gojo.” you call out, unsure. He shakes his head.
“Sa-tor-u.” he spells out in reply.. You watch him reposition himself to sit on the couch as he tugs the leash around your neck and tells you to get up. You do, on your knees as Gojo urges you to crawl towards him.
He helps you gently over his lap, positioning you so that you’re lifted a little higher. He lets his fingers touch his tongue, covering them with spit as he slides his fingers inside of you. Your hands find purchase in his shoulder - the intrusion making you just a little dizzy. Gojo’s other hand rests on the small of your back, drawing little circles into the skin. His fingers alone are too big for you to understand. They’re smooth and well-taken care of - and you can feel just how dexterous he is as he slides them inside of you.
“Gotta make sure I take care of you, puppy.” and the last part is indefinite condescension. You whimper as he fucks you open with his fingers - with no real intent to do anything but make sure you’re comfortable when he sinks you down on his cock. He’s not sure he can spare you any mercy, so he does it while he’s still sober enough to think about. He presses around - and when you let out a soft mewl, he knows he’s found the right spot. He chuckles a little.
He gets you back to where you need to be, just hovering over his hard cock. You feel it - the head brushing against your oversensitive clit. Your mind is gone blank as you rest your palms flat on Gojo’s chest. You whimper softly.
“Want it? Can you say please? Be good and say please.”
“Please fuck me.”
“There you go. And what’s my name?”
Your eyes roll back into your skull as you feel Gojo’s cock nudge against your cunt. You feel the stretch, and your words catch. Your whole body goes limp in his arms and he fucks into you, so slow and so calculating. You shudder as your walls accommodate him. Your veins are full of fire, and your nails dig into his chest. You moan, and it’s so loud and so lewd as you slowly let all of him inside.
“S..Satoru.”
Gojo laughs, and it’s mean. Without another word, his hands grab onto his hips with as close as he can get to a snarl. He laughs as he buries himself balls deep in your cunt - chest reverberating as your pussy grips onto him so tight.
You’re soaking and trembling with need. And it’s hardly his thing, unnecessary praise isn’t something he does. But when he feels you like this, when he sees your pretty face contorted with want and the way you cling to him like he’s a lifeline. He has a sudden realization about why people keep pets and maybe it’s sick - but man.
Something feels so fucking right about the way you seem to need him - the soft dependence in the way you mutter his name under his breath like his cock is all you can think about it. Gojo normally hates it, being depended on. He’s already responsible for so much.
But you? You, his mentor of 4 years with pretty eyes - above him. Normally composed, and so dependable it’s almost sickening, begging him for some kind of mercy only he can provide you? That feels incredible. It feels like some kind of drug and Gojo really isn’t the commitment type.
But he thinks if anyone else got so much as a glimpse of you like this, he might tear them apart with his teeth. So Gojo doesn’t say a fucking word to you when he picks your hips up and fucks you from underneath.
He holds you until your soft tits are pressed against his hard chest, and bounces you on his cock like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. And you cry his name in a desperate cry, crossed like a prayer. Over and over - your voice is broken when it calls to him. You can’t even make all the syllables out as it becomes just a slur of noise in your mouth and Gojo fucks your sweet little cunt for all it’s worth.
And for the first time, you’ve robbed him of any sly comments. No teasing left, just something carnal want to fuck another orgasm out of you. His good girl, his pretty pet - don’t you deserve his cock and his undivided attention. More than anyone else, haven’t you earned it? It’d be a real shame to hold out, so he doesn’t. He pistons his long cock until it’s pounding away at your g-spot and listens to your little whimpers.
“I know, I know. It feels good, doesn’t it? Good girl. Good girl.” as he fucks into you hard enough that there’s a harsh slap every time you move. Your mind feels like it’s melting. Whatever you have left is his, you’re his. It’s never been clearer to you than at this moment.
You sound like you’re sobbing, as you cry out to him.
“Satoru, fuck - fuckme, ‘m gonna -”
“Cum for me, wanna feel it. Cum just like this, there you go. Haah, there you go.”
You cum so hard you see white. You feel it rush out of you as you squirt in his lap with a desperate cry and Gojo groans as he fucks you through it. He’s only a few thrusts behind and with a choked moan - he cums deep inside of you. Deep enough that you feel it paint your insides white.
He holds you like that. Your shuddering body is wrapped carefully in his arms,against his chest as he shushes your soft cries. You’re sniffling, just a little. Everything is too intense but he’s there in his own way.
“S..Satoru.. I like you.” you confess to him, terrified. Gojo pulls back, and laughs. Even now, you’re just as cute as he remembers.
I can just imagine Y/N in bed and Bakugou coming to bed but catching Y/N masturbating, taking the toy they are using and putting it aside, suprisingly pounding the shit out of Y/N straight away until he stops when they are just on the edge, choking them and then making them beg as their legs tremble from the desire. (pure edging kink, degrading kink too! Feel free to add more, sorry if this is too specific)
Fuckkkk, nonnie, I read this and immediately went over to @some-kindofgnome, screaming I’M WET. Jesus. Thank you for making it specific. This is perfect.
minors do not interact
warnings: 18+, choking, edge play, toy play, degradation (use of “slut” and “whore”), light auditory exhibitionism(?), begging, a dash of overstim
wc: 2.2k
pairing: bakugou x reader
edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop
“Fuck,” you moan, lifting your hips off your bed as you ride your magic wand in the air. One hand is pinching your nipple, one hand white knuckled around the toy sending the vibrations of Satan’s rumbly laugh flat on your clit.
There’s no hiding this toy. It isn’t one of those coy vibrators disguised as a tube of lipstick or some kind of modern art; it’s over a foot long and looks like the microphone for a band of merry giants. Katsuki knows all about your toy—well, multiple toys—but you never bring it out unless you know he was going to be out of the house for a while. There’s still a small part of you that’s embarrassed.
Your work schedules have been out of sync for days and you’ve barely been able to steal a snuggle from him all week, much less a good lay. You’re amped up, and the vibrator teasing the breadth of your pussy has your thighs quaking.
“Oh, fuck, Katsuki,” you whine, your inner thighs clenching like they’re squeezing his head instead of the open air above your toy.
You don’t even hear the door open.
Katsuki can hear you from the fucking hallway. It takes a second for him to place the dull electronic thrum coming from your apartment. Not the blender or the coffee grinder…No, there’s no appliance in the apartment that should make a noise quite like that.
Then he hears a full-throated shout of his name and the pieces fall into place, stiffening his dick immediately. He’d gotten more of a workout during his shift than anticipated, chasing some half-bit villain, so he cut his workout short today and is back a good hour earlier than he told you to expect.
Katsuki slides his key in the lock as quietly as he can, his moves measured as he falls easily into his stealth training. He opens the door and holds the latch down as he closes it, slips his shoes off, and places his bag by the door, just for now. He pulls off his shirt and throws it to the ground as he walks over to the bedroom, a smirk already rising on his face.
He kicks the door open, slouching against the doorframe as you scream, your body tensing as your eyes shoot to his. It’s all he can do not to laugh as you fling the toy across the bed, as far as its cord will let you. It stays connected, though, its even thundering the only noise in the room.
You fumble to turn of the device—the noise must be screaming in your ears, it’s so fucking loud. Katsuki’s eyes pass over you, from the sheen of sweat on your collarbone, to your slack jaw, still panting with the rise and fall of your heaving chest. You look half fucked out.
“Hey, slut,” Katsuki says, his voice casual and almost cheerful, as though his erection isn’t already straining against his pants, begging to be let out. “Didja know I could hear you from outside?”
Your eyes widen as the embarrassment floods you.
“No.” Your voice is meek as you sit up, looking at him. Of course you hadn’t known. Your shame doesn’t stop your eyes from passing over his bare chest, taking in his muscles, flexed from the recent workout, and then down to where his boner strains against his sweatpants.
“What were you thinking about?”
“You!” you reply quickly, pushing yourself up to walk over to him. Katsuki puts a hand out and you shrink back, remaining kneeling on the bed. He can see the wet spot on the comforter from where your slick dripped own your ass and pooled there. Was your plan to rush through some laundry before he got home or were you just going to leave it there and think he wouldn’t notice?
“I know that, sweetness,” Katsuki says. “All the neighbors do too. Now what were you thinking about?”
He sees the difference in the question appearing on your face as your eyes break away from his, looking to the wood floor for just a moment before glancing back up. “I was thinking about you eating me out.”
Katsuki takes of his pants and boxers in one go, unceremoniously stepping out of them as he walks to the foot of the bed. You sit down on your hip, your legs kicking in front of you a bit as you rotate, following him, your eyes flickering from his face to his dick. Katsuki grabs both your ankles and pulls them to him. He drags them down the side of the bed until your ass is right on the edge, and then his hands spread your thighs wide to him. Your eyes are shining with hope and anticipation.
You’re soaked. There are threads of arousal pulled between your thighs and your pussy is already creamy from top to bottom. He leans down, the smell of you hitting his nose, and then he leans up your body until his mouth is on your ear and he whispers, “Now, why the fuck would I do that?”
A gasp yanks out of you as Katsuki takes a callused thumb and presses it harshly from just below your clit to just above it.
“Did you even feel that? Your pussy all numbed out from all those vibrations? Why would I lick your slutty fucking pussy just for my jaw to ache and you to feel nothing now that you’ve rammed that fucking toy against you for who knows how long?”
On the word rammed Katsuki pressed his thumb harshly against your clit, working it until he was done talking and then pulling away, leaving you breathing heavily.
“I feel it, Katsuki, I promise, I feel it,” you babble, looking at him desperately.
“Oh, you’ll feel it,” Katsuki says, grabbing both your knees, the slick from his thumb wiping carelessly along your kneecap. He pulls you to his hips and then drops one leg, grabbing his cock and running it through your copious wetness. “You’ll fucking feel it.”
He plunges into you in one go, your ass slapping against his thighs wetly. Fuck, he’s never felt you this wet without lube, and it’s glorious. You’re sucking him in, beckoning him forward. He pulls most of the way out and bottoms out back into you, feeling zero resistance.
You cry out both times. You’re so tight inside. Like all that rolling around you’d been doing with your vibrator, cunt squeezing around nothing, had tensed your pussy, making you hug around his cock more than ever.
“Have you cum yet, slut?”
“No!” you cry out as he hammers into you, quickly setting a brutal pace.
He has both hands on your thighs again, and is doing both the work of pulling you to him with his arms and thrusting his hips into you. There really was no need to go to the gym today. Not when you’re so pliable under his touch. You’re helpless on the bed as he stands over you, your arms useless overhead. God, he wants to see you cuffed to the headboard or maybe even suspended from the air as he has his way with you.
“Are you close?” he asks, giving another rough swipe to your clit.
When he’d come in the room, you’d appeared to be right on the edge. Eyes wet, muscles tense. He knows if he puts a hand to your cheek right now it’ll be hot, nearly as hot as your molten pussy. It won’t take you long to get back up to that point as he pounds you relentlessly.
“Yes,” you whine, arching your back as he pulls his thumb up above your clit, leaving the little bundle of nerves exposed and standing tall and pulsing to him.
Suddenly, he stops thrusting, shaft fully inside you. He pulls his hands off and falls forward over you, forearms framing your shoulders as both hands go to your neck. He keeps his hold loose, but his thumbs are pressing in just above your collarbone, on either side of your esophagus.
“Why should I let you cum, whore?” he growls. “You were getting all ready to do it without me—why should I help you out?”
“I was just doing it because you weren’t here,” you wheeze, Katsuki’s hold on your throat tightens just a little. “I missed you.”
Katsuki rocks one single stroke of his cock out and back in and the thinnest whine squeezes out your throat.
“I didn’t hear you asking me for anything these past few days,” he taunts. “How was I supposed to know how desperate you were for my cock, huh?”
“I…always want you,” you pant.
“I want you too, baby,” he says, brows twisted in false sympathy. “And I wanna let you cum. I wanna feel you cream on my cock. But I’m gonna need you to beg me for it.”
“Please, Katsuki,” you say immediately. He grins—he has you right where he wants you. Sloppy and desperate, willing to bend however he wants you to. “Please, I just want your cock. I just wanna cum around your big, hard cock, please!”
“Oh?” Katsuki asks, cocking his head to the side as he takes one hand off your throat, compensating by squeezing even harder with the other, moving it up just under your jaw. Then he grabs your forgotten vibrator and waves it in front of you. “What about this?”
You hesitate, unable to read him. You don’t know if he wants you to beg for nothing but his dick or if he’s hinting towards something else. He takes pity on you and places the large head of the toy just above where you’re warming his cock and looks at the buttons, clicking the toy on.
You cry out immediately and Katsuki presses his palm harder against your throat, reducing your voice to nothing but a hiss. Katsuki rolled his hips into you. Fuck, he can feel the vibrations singing through your bones and spreading over his cock. He clicks the up button and you whine again as the vibrations get quicker, making his cock twitch inside of you.
You’re squeezing him all over again, fluttering like you’re only moments from the edge. Katsuki won’t be outdone by a toy, so he begins pounding into you again, his grip as tight on the wand as it is on your throat. You thighs are squeezing around his hips, muscles trembling from all the sensation.
“Yeah, you fucking love this, don’t you?” Katsuki taunts, clicking the vibrator up to its third setting as your legs begin to shake, ankles coming undone behind his ass. “Your dirty little toy and my dick double-teaming you? Bet this is your fucking greatest fantasy, isn’t it?”
You’re nearly screaming—would be, if his hand weren’t choking out the sound. Either way, he’s certain that everything can be heard just as well now as he’d heard in the hallway earlier. He doesn’t give a shit.
Katsuki turns the vibrator up to its highest setting and you don’t last another moment. Your legs seize, trapping his hip flush against yours as you squeeze around him tighter than you ever have. He wants to keep thrusting, carry himself over into his own orgasm, but you’re holding him too tightly. But you pulsing around him, combined with the vibrations that are tingling his dick from head to base, are doing more than he thought.
A moment later, a roar of shock is pulled out of his throat as his own orgasm sneaks up on him, shooting his first rope of cum into you. In his surprise he pulled the vibrator off of you and your body relaxes, spine unfurling and thighs loosening their hold.
But that’s not what Katsuki wants. He rears back and gives another thrust, still cumming hard inside of you as he shoves the vibrator back square on your clit, and you cry out from the overstimulation.
“Fuck! Katsuki, I can’t—”
Your body shudders and you’re cumming again, the full strength of the vibrator not even giving you the chance to breathe between. Then your hands are flailing at it and Katsuki rips it off of you as you continue to seize around him, milking out the last of his cum.
Katsuki takes a few steadying breaths. He’s only able to revel in the calm afterglow before his anger pricks at the racket that vibrator’s making. He pulls out of you, not failing to notice how your legs twitch as he does so and fumbles with the power button until the device falls silent once more.
“God, that thing has a fucking jet engine in it,” Katsuki says, tossing it back on the bed.
You’re silent but for your heavy breaths as you lie completely spread on the bed, sweat covering your whole body. He can see tear tracks down your cheeks from the overstimulation, your lashes wet and stuck together.
“That mindblowing, huh?”
Katsuki raises an eyebrow as you just nod, apparently too fucked out to talk.
“I see why you fucking like it so much,” Katsuki says. Even just those secondary vibrations carrying through you onto his dick had been fucking incredible, so he could only imagine what they’d felt like pressed right against your sweet spot, ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you. “We could, uh, try it again sometime if you want?”
“Oh, yeah,” you breathe, your voice rough from Katsuki’s treatment. You open one tired eye and look at him seriously. “We’re doing that again.”
