♥ LIMITLESS PLEASURE ♥
Summary: There are two things Satoru Gojo wants to break you with. One is the Infinite Void you wouldn’t stop asking about. The other is the most overwhelming night of your life.
Pairing: reader x satoru gojo
Content Warnings: MDNI 18+, afab!reader (no specified gender), pre-established relationship, pet names (pretty, doll, sweetheart), strong language, nsfw, sorta kinda satoru’s POV for the first chunk, i’d say nerd!gojo but it’s just him being as nerdy as he is in canon, reader is also a jujutsu nerd, sorcerer!reader (no technique specified), preaching the gospel of loserboy!gojo, he’s down BAD, he talks a lot when he’s horny, infodumping (there’s like 1.6k words of exposition i’m so sorry this got away from me), OVERSTIM beyond your wildest imagination oml, édging, dacryphilia, technical descriptions of jujutsu (i also happen to be a loserboy nerd oops), consensual hypnosis/paralysis (see: infinite void), SEVERE misuse of cursed techniques, oral (brief), p in v, unprotected, missionary, mating press, full nelson, cérvix kissing (brief), marathon séx, slight choking, FERAL gojo, breaking the bed, he’s mean but it’s lowkey deserved, body worship, praise, reader is kind of a brat and has very minimal self-preservation instincts
Word Count: 6k (almost exactly)
A/N: @tonycries hiiiiii tony!! happy (belated) one year anniversary to the tonycries franchise (and happy valentine's day)!! i hope you don’t mind me taggin you. i wrote this as a gift for you, since i wanted to show my appreciation for you inspiring me to unlearn shame and start writing stuff like this without feeling wrong or dirty. it’s totally chill if it’s not your jam or anything, no offense taken!! but i tried to write it with your tastes in mind ^^ there’ll be a sappier ramble at the very bottom for you hehe
Satoru didn’t know what to do with you. At first, he’d been flattered by your interest in his cursed technique. Not many people cared to learn the intricacies of it past the surface level, and fewer still wanted to know everything about it, including how it felt. Your curiosity made him feel warm inside, made him feel proud for the first time in his life to be the owner of his Six Eyes and the Limitless technique.
He’d explained it as well as he could, answering your questions in earnest. First, he’d described the simple concepts of his neutral, amplified, and reversed techniques: in neutrality, it resembles the concept of a limit in mathematics, forever approaching a point but never quite being able to reach it, repelling any moving object exponentially with its approach until its acceleration was so minimal it was practically zero, but never quite reaching a technically complete stop; in amplification, it’s the same concept of forever approaching a point but not reaching it, but it’s a pull instead of a wall, like it’s forcibly applying the concept of a limit onto a separate object to reduce the space between it and his technique to a mere fraction; in reversal, it’s the same idea, but the object in question is forced to grow the distance between itself and the focal point of the technique exponentially until it falls out of range. He even tried to explain Hollow Purple, explaining how it relies on the theoretical existence of a paradox, and how combining an infinite pull with an infinite push is bound to rip anything it touches to atomic shreds until it’s reduced to nothing in mere seconds.
Now, by this point in the explanation, he was sure you’d be bored, pretending to fall asleep or just outright mocking him like everyone else had in the past. And yes, it would sting, but it wasn’t anything he was unfamiliar with. People just didn’t care, and he was okay with that now.
But you weren’t bored at all. No, you stared at him with wide, fascinated eyes, resting your elbows on the table between you and studying his face like it was the most intricate artwork you’d ever seen. You’d asked questions, and he’d answered in a dreamy haze, almost waiting for the other shoe to drop when you’d inevitably grow tired of his rambling. He was sure it would come. But you just kept probing, asking about every detail you could think of, even stumbling upon questions he himself didn’t know the answer to once or twiceーthings he promised he would get back to you on, because it was unacceptable for him to not be able to answer your questions, even if the idea of you being curious enough about his technique to stump even him made his heart flutter like he was back in highschool, meeting you for the first time all over again.
His hesitation faded when you asked why his Six Eyes were necessary for his technique, allowing himself to grow excited at the prospect of someone else finally understanding the ins and outs of his abilities with him. Someone he knew was smart, someone he could brainstorm with, someone who would get it. He rambled to you in a delighted stupor about how his eyes worked, insisting how, no, he didn’t literally have six eyes, and if anyone said some stupid shit like that to him one more time he was going to smack their head off of their shoulders. He explained how it’s more like ‘two eyes with three layers,’ but that’s a much less catchy name, so he kinda gets it, y’know? At your behest, he described the aforementioned ‘three layers,’ describing them as simply as possible. The top layer, so to speak, being the enhanced version of what he imagined would be “normal people vision”; the middle layer being what he called “atomic vision,” which was the primary layer responsible for his control of Limitless due to the molecular precision it provided him; the bottom layer, being his “cursed energy vision,” which allowed him to understand people’s cursed energy, potential, and techniques inside and out at just a glance.
He fell in love with you more and more by the second then, when you bombarded him with more questions, as if you wished you had Six Eyes of your own just to be able to see every inch of him and understand him to the deepest parts of his core. The very idea of someone wanting to know him as intimately as he was forced to know everyone around him, just by being able to see, made his heart feel like it could burst out of his chest at any moment. He could’ve sworn it was the happiest moment of his life, actually, when you thanked him for explaining so thoroughly, as if he shouldn’t have been the one on his hands and knees begging you to marry him just for this show of devotion.
That’s when things started to get tricky. Your curiosity wasn’t sated by his words alone; you wanted to feel it, to know what his technique was like in practice. And, sure, he was the strongest sorcerer alive, and he couldーquite literallyーuse his technique harmlessly on you with his eyes closed, but he had to admit it made him a little nervous. Not because he could hurt you, no; he didn’t think he was even capable of making himself hurt you if he tried. He couldn’t dream of it. But he was worried about how far your curiosity would go. What would he do if you wanted him to hurt you, just to make the experience “authentic?” Sure, he appreciated your nerdiness and enthusiasm, but he didn’t want to get into an argument over something like this.
To his relief, you were content to feel the push and pull of his amplification and reversal at their minimum outputs, gently tugging you back and forth as he re-explained some of their functions, just to make sure you understood. He vehemently refused to use Hollow Purple on you in any way, and thankfully, you agreed; you’re curious, not stupid.
But then you asked him about his domain expansion. He was content to describe it to you, admitting he honestly didn’t understand exactly how it worked himself, since he’d never felt the effects of his own domain. He just knew it funneled infinite possibilities into the mind all at once, and paralyzed its target through a forced freeze response via extreme overstimulation. But you weren’t content with just that; no, you wanted to feel his domain, too.
That was a hard no. No matter how much you begged and pleaded and whined for him to show you, no matter how many times you insisted in that sweet voice of yours, “I can take it! I’m a sorcerer, too, Satoru. It’s not as if you’d be doing this to a civilian. I’ll be fine,” he just couldn’t risk it. That one could actually hurt you if he wasn’t careful. And he would never forgive himself if he hurt you. No, not just hurt you; he would be risking damage to the very thing that made you you if he gave in.
You’d left it alone then, when he shut you down so firmly, and he thought that was the last of it. Sad to reject your wishes, but not willing to risk your safety for something even he couldn’t perfectly control.
And then you brought it up again. And again. And again.
After a month of your endless nagging, he finally caved.
“Satoruuuuu,” you whined, nuzzling so sweetly into his neck, leaning your weight against his lap as you straddled one of his powerful thighs, “I wanna see it~.”
Satoru, who was already in a lusty haze and just about five seconds away from ripping your clothes from your body like they’d personally slighted him for existing, let out a breathy chuckle into your ear. “You’re gonna hafta let me take my pants off if you wanna see it, baby,” he purred into the side of your face, kissing a sultry line up the curve of your throat and along your jaw.
“No, not that,” you whined, and he cooed into your skin with a playful lilt to his airy tone. “I wanna see your domain.”
Satoru paused his trail, body freezing all at once, large hands gripping your hips just a fraction tighter. This again? Were you really trying to use his lust against him to get him to cave? No wonder you’d been so needy this morning.
“I already told you no, doll,” he hummed into your cheek, resuming his reverent trail of kisses along your pretty features. His favorite painting. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“Please?” you whimpered, and he sucked in a sharp breath against your skin.
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Pleeeeeaaaaaaaaー”
Your back was hitting a velvety mattress before you even registered the familiar crackle of jujutsu surrounding your body, hazy eyes flickering open in alarm. A quick glance around the room allowed you to realize you’d been teleported to Satoru’s bedroomーmore specifically, right in the center of his silken sheets, with his snarling face inches from yours, cerulean eyes shimmering with unspent energy. When had he taken his blindfold off?
“Fine,” he seethed, and you could feel the hammering of your pulse against his hand, only realizing he had your neck trapped under one of his large palms when the thundering of your heartbeat roared against his skin. “If you’re not gonna fucking drop it, then I’ll have to make sure all your questions are answered, hmm?”
…
That was three hours ago.
You can hardly make heads or tails of where you are anymore. Not necessarily because of the way Satoru has been ravaging you for all three of those long, exhausting hours, though that certainly doesn’t help your case. You’re no stranger to the way he goes into a frenzy when pushed enough, taking you over and over and over for hours until he’s shooting blanks. Desperate for you.
No, you’re quite sure it has more to do with the way he’s decided to make this particular marathon into a pop quiz.
The first two hours had simply been a ‘demonstration’ of his Six Eyes alone, showing you just how much he could see by trailing little kisses and kitten licks along the most sensitive parts of your skin with frightening accuracy. He found secret spots you didn’t even know you had, driving you over the edge before he ever even reached your legs, sparking the end of his tongue with raw cursed energy to send your nerves into overdrive at the very crest of each languid swipe.
You were already a mess by the time he decided it was time to move on to the ‘next lesson,’ left in ruins by nothing but his tongue and that evil little buzz working you over. Cheating, almost, using the extra boost to make you drench his tongue in his favorite flavor with each practiced swipe over your clit. Always getting his fill before moving on to his next favorite activity.
“An’ which one am I usin’ now, doll?” comes a breathy growl against your ear, shaky and sultry and utterly crazed as your beloved Satoru, normally so careful with you even when he’s jackhammering you into the mattressーso fragile, so pretty, he just has to be carefulーdelights in the way you can hardly even manage a broken whine.
You feel the wet warmth of something sliding up the side of your cheek, and only when his broken gasp shudders against your skin at the salty taste do you realize you’ve been crying. Your mind can hardly process his words, perception tunneling to the feeling of the slow, burning drag against your tender walls, crying out messy squelches of exhaustion as he tries to tempt out your nth orgasm tonight.
“I-I don’t knooow,” you sob, and the hiccup of your shaky whine makes his cock twitch out yet another filthy sheen of pre inside of you. So mean.
He has the audacity to let out a little ‘tch’ of disapproval next to your ear, clicking his tongue and leaning back to get a better look at you. The look in his eyes betrays his teasing facade, shimmering with adoration bordering on obsession. Reverent. Hungry.
“C’moooon, pretty,” he purrs, bringing one of his large hands up to grip your jaw just enough to force you to look at him. Gently running the pad of his thumb over your kiss-bitten lips and slipping between them, pressing down on your tongue like he’s trying to prod an answer directly from your throat. “You can do it. Where’d my smart lil’ doll go, hmm~?”
Shuddering at another of your choked sobs, Satoru takes it upon himself to offer some semblance of mercy, pouting down at you in mock sympathy. “My poor sweetheart, can’t even think straight. How ‘bout this? I’ll make it multiple choice, ‘kay? Is thisー” you feel something swell inside of you, hit with the indescribable sensation of being stretched even fuller but losing the sensation of his body heat, “ーneutral, amplified, or reversed?”
You choke at the feeling, his words going in one ear and out the other as your eyes roll back into your head. You could’ve sworn you lost the ability to feel the burn in the stretch an hour and a half ago, but it’s back with a vengeance, tearing through your lower half just enough to get your attention. To mock you, much like Satoru is doing now.
At your garbled whine, he lets out an exaggerated sigh, safe from the way you try to clench around him for just a moment. “Come on, doll. Don’t tell me you weren’t really listenin’ to my explanations before? You’re gonna make ‘Toru so sad~.”
“N-No!!” your lips are gasping out before your mind can catch up, the bolt of adrenaline in your veins at his words just enough to make you sink your nails into his biceps - or, try to, rather - and lurch upward, eyes widening comically. “No, no, ‘Toru, I-I was listenin’, I swearー”
“Then prove it,” he hisses a mere inch from your lips, a feral grin splitting his face and glinting his sharp canines at you in warning. “Answer the question, pretty.”
You wrack your brain through the thick fog surrounding it, desperately trying to piece together a cohesive thought. You don’t feel the give of his skin under your nails, and he’s stretching you just a little more than usual…
“N-Neutral,” you gasp, breathing the answer against his spit-slicked lips, peeking up at him through your wetted lashes. “I-It’s neutral. You’re usin’ahー... S’neutral.”
“Goooood,” he praises, and you can feel him twitch inside of you again as if the very idea of you being able to tell, even now, threatens to break him. And yet, the desperate groan on his lips and the way he slams to the hilt in a sudden, needy thrust only serves to remind you of the worst part of all of this: the smug bastard hasn’t cum even once. Holding out on purpose; taunting you with it. “You’re doin’ so hahー s-so well f’me, pretty.”
His tender lips ghost over your fluttering lids, placing gentle kisses over the skin of your bleary eyes. Gentle. Loving. So unlike the violent creaks of his bed frame, rocking and whining with every slam of his hips against the plush of your ass. “Shhhh, it’s alright, sweetheart. We’re almost done, ‘kay? Next question.”
His invisible barrierーthat evil, vile thing, keeping him just out of reachーflickers off, and you feel a garbled noise choke in your throat at the uniquely odd sensation of your gummy walls snapping flush to his length like elastic, letting simultaneous waves of relief and disappointment sweep through your exhausted body. A shudder rips through his hulking frame hovering above you, and he slams one of his large palms against the headboard hard enough to splinter it beneath his hand. The sound is miles away, as far as the heartbeat in your ears is concerned.
It takes a moment for you to register him sitting up, only able to notice by the growing distance of his body heatーaway from you againーand a needy whine starts to build in your throat on impulse. It doesn’t get the chance to ghost your lips, though; he’s giving you that look you know too well as he lifts your legs, leaning down, down, down to fold you in half with his strong arms hooked firmly under your knees.
The crazed glimmer in his eyes drifts down your body, seeing something you surely couldn’t comprehend if you tried as they seem to settle on a target somewhere around your midriff. He brings a hand around your leg and to his mystery target, drawing a little X over the area beneath your belly button. That same, feral grin from before finds his pinkened lips again, eyes widening and pupils expanding in a way they never do; it’s not as if his Six Eyes ever need to improve their vision, after all, except when he's marveling at you.
“Ready, pretty?” he sings, and in his lusty haze, you could swear he almost sounds giddy, his breathy tone dripping with barely-restrained excitement.
Your lips open to inquire on what he could possibly be asking about, perhaps even to snark a little at how you haven’t been ready for half of the shit he’s done in the last few hours. But only a breathless yelp manages to escape you when you feel what can only be described as the weirdest sensation you have ever felt in your life.
One glance down allows you the sight of a faint, blue glow where his finger rests on the invisible X he’d marked, and you feel the supremely disconcerting sensation of a tiny vacuum forming inside of you. Now, you’ve felt empty beforeーhell, you felt painfully empty mere seconds ago, when he’d pulled out of you to adjust your position and draw on your skin with his fingerーbut this isn’t just emptiness. There’s a distinct pulling sensation tugging at the innermost parts of your fluttering walls, making your exhausted muscles clench and spasm with what you can only describe as confused panic.
It all clicks a moment later when his treacly tip seems to get the same memo, and his hips are yanked forward by some invisible force, pulled with perfect precision to glide through your slicked entrance and slam headfirst into that tugging point. You’re surprised you even catch it, honestly; perhaps you wouldn’t have even realized if it wasn’t for the unnerving sensation. He knows you know it, too, his broken moan cracking off into a hoarse, crazed laugh.
“Blue,” you’re gasping before he can even ask, and his feral expression contorts into something of pure delight. “I-It’s ahnーa-amplified. Fuck, s’blue.”
“You’re perfect,” he rasps against your forehead in response, grinning lips pressing a string of messy kisses all over your face. Worshipping his beloved doll for your diligence even now. “So fucking perfect, pretty. M’gonna marry you, d’you hear me? N-Nah, fuck it, I’ll buy a fuckin’ cathedral an’ I’ll put you on that altar an’ I’ll fuckin’ pray t’youー”
“Satoru,” you’re whining into his ear. Partially to shut up his shameless, senseless babbling, partially because the shallow grinds of his hips against your sweet spots are choking the air out of your lungs, and partially because you might just come undone all over again if he keeps talking.
“Ah, right,” he laughs against your skin, sounding far enough away to make a small tinge of something close to fear squeeze in the very pit of your stomachーor maybe that’s just the feeling of him rolling his hips against you like he can’t bear the idea of pulling out even slightly. “Sorry, hah. We have a lesson t’finish, hmm?”
He leans back just enough to capture your lips in a kiss, if you can even call it that; it’s far closer to a battle of teeth and tongue and spit, messy and hot and so filthy. You bring your hands to slide up his chest, having to physically wrench him away from you so you can breathe after nearly a full minute of him swallowing up the air in your lungs. Even then, he chases your lips like a man starved, trying to push back against your insistence and get just one more taste of your skin. Panting into your slack maw, “Mnhーfuck th’ reversal lesson, pretty. I’ll never use that shit again if it means it’ll push you away from me fer even a fuckin’ second.”
You have just enough mental clarity left to wheeze out a warm, affectionate laugh at his desperation, seeing a glimpse of the needy Satoru you’ve come to know and love so dearly. Comforted, if only for a moment, by the familiarity at his stubborn insistence on being as physically connected to you as possible. He would probably live in your skin if he could; it’s not a trait of his you ever thought you’d particularly find to be reassuring. And yet, here you are, grateful to see this sliver of his obsession instead of the mean teacher act he’s been putting on for hours.
The reprieve doesn’t last long.
He plants a long, affectionate kiss to your templeーsomething you would only recognize much, much later to be an apology in advance.
“Last lesson, doll,” Satoru breathes against your skin, and you can hear the wicked little smile playing on his lips. “The one you’ve been soooooo excited for, yeah~?”
It takes you a long moment to process what he means. You blink your bleary eyes slowly up at him, clearing the fuzz in the corners of your vision to take in every last detail of his grinning face, pulling back just enough to dazzle you with a dangerous, toothy smile. All you can think of is how pretty he is with that flush on his cheeks and the delighted gleam in his crazed eyes and what did he say again?
Right, the last test.
Oh.
…
Oh.
Oh shit.
Satoru apparently spots the realization dawning on your face, because his manic grin widens impossibly further to glint his canines at you all over again, somehow looking sharper than usualーalmost as sharp as the sadistic tinge on the very edges of his crinkled gaze.
“C’mon, pretty, don’t hahーd-don’t run from me now,” you hear him coo somewhere above you, and it’s only then you even realize your body is trying to scramble backwards away from him despite the heady flush of heat pouring out in a torrent of molten need through every nerve in your body. “You wanted this, ‘member? S’alllll yours. I’ll give everythin’ t’you, doll, but that means y’gotta take it all, ‘kay?”
A fresh stream of overstimulated tears slip down your burning cheeks to pool on his awaiting tongue. The rumble of delirious laughter in Satoru’s chest shakes against your body, caged in helplessly beneath his herculean form as he peppers your ruined expression with a flurry of devoted little pecks. You find yourself nodding at his words despite it all. Your compliance earns you a breathy groan and a needy little rut into your oversensitive sweet spot, torturing you all over again with the unfulfilled promise of your nth orgasm of the night, dangling you over the edge of what you’re sure will be nothing more than a weak burst of tingles now.
“Good,” he gasps against your skin, giving the shell of your ear a playful little nip before leaning back once more. “So good f’me, pretty. So perfect.” Those large hands of his lower your thighs gently against the bed, allowing you a brief moment to go completely limp and sink into his plush, overpriced sheets. You feel the fatigue in your bones weighing you down into the cottony mattress, the call of sleep tugging at the corners of your vision in wake of the momentary pause. But the Strongest’s Six Eyes catch the beginnings of your descent into slumberーas they are wont to catch all things involving youーand Satoru is having none of it.
Your perspired back leaves the sheets before you can get too comfortable, only to meet the chiseled slope of your beloved’s front as he props you up in his lap. You can hardly feel him nestled deep inside of you anymore, save for the occasional twitches of his needy cockheadーwhich, infuriatingly, still hasn’t spent inside of you a single time. Call it spiteful, or petty, or whatever other applicable jab at your character, but you refuse to throw in the towel before you see him come undone. And of course, he knows this; you’re sure it’s at least half the reason for why he’s been holding out for so long. Dangling that sweet, euphoric prize right in front of you, keeping you motivated to match his pace in a way only you can.
Bastard.
Greedy hands slide from your thighs all the way up your front, tracing the divots and curves of your body in a slow glissade across your shimmering skin. He snakes his path along your form all the way up to your shoulders, looping beneath your arms in equal parts possession and support for your weakening body. You have half the mind to wonder if he’s simply stalling just to torture you a little more. But then, his fingers trace up the back of your sweat-slicked nape and find each other behind your head to lock into place, and you realize the reality is much, much worse than that.
“Satoru,” you pant out in whatever semblance of a warning you can muster, trying to glare at him over your shoulder. The sight only makes his cock twitch harshly inside you, and you’re hissing through your teeth as he peppers another trail of sloppy pecks on the back of your shoulder.
“Shhhhhh, pretty,” he soothes, “I just needed t’free up yer hands.” And if you can’t tell his words are a flat-out lie from the way your hands were very much free in the previous position, then he gives it away from the shit-eating grin saturating the mischievous tone of his excuse. “It is still a quiz, y’know. I can’t just give it t’you, no matter how good you’ve been f’me, doll.”
He must sense the lag in your perception before you do, because he’s quickly clarifying with another kiss to your skinーalways one more, like he can’t get enough of the sinful taste of your salt on his lipsーwith a gentle coo, “Tell me what m’gonna do, pretty. An’ show me, too.”
And if you were anyone else, perhaps you would’ve been confused. You’d be well within your right to have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about, after all, when he’s spent the last three hours fucking every last coherent thought out of your brain in a brutal cadence of bottomless need. But it’s him, and it’s you, and you both know you’ll always be able to pick out the subtler meanings behind his cheeky words even when the last two functioning brain-cells in your lust-addled mind are bumping lazily together to sputter out pitiful sparks of cognizance.
You can feel a toothy smile split his face as you lift a weary hand, trembling and weak but determined to prove something as your middle finger just barely manages to wrap behind your index, the rest of your hand curling into a loose half-fist. “Like… Like this?” you mumble out, inspecting your own digits through glassy eyes and lowered lashes. Voice slurring in your mind’s last hurrah, “It’s, uh… I-It’s infinーmnh, stop movingーinfinite void.”
A large, pale hand snakes along your clammy skin, tracing the contour of your bicep and down your forearm until it reaches your trembling hand. The pads of his fingers slide up the back of your own, slightly adjusting minute details in the posturing of your digits until it’s a perfect replica of his domain gesture. “You get an A plus,” he whispers into your ear, gravelly and husky and starved in a way you’ve never heard him before. Your heart flutters and sinks in simultaneous, contrasting motions, and you’ve never been so sure of your own death date. There is no way he won’t consume you whole by the end of this.
You’re watching with ragged breaths as his own fingers mimic the pose of your hand just on the periphery of your bleary gaze. Ruined as you may be, you’d never mistake the sensation of the sudden surge sizzling beneath his milky skin, sparking and spiking in a rush of cursed energy. You don’t even need to hear those familiar words slip from his plush lips to know what’s about to happen.
“Domain Expansion: Infinite Void.”
The first thing you notice is darkness. His domain unfolds and surrounds the both of you in a burst of splattered antimatter, closing you both into a perfectly spherical capsule and trapping you within the very concept of infinity. The second thing you notice is just how gorgeous it is on the inside, sparkling with endless stars and expanding out endlessly despite you knowing full well it’s a limited space. What appears to be a large black hole rests at a concerning close distance, but you don’t have it in you to be afraid of something so ethereal. You think the word ‘beautiful’ leaves your lips, but you can’t be sure, mind buzzing with the overwhelming presence of his cursed energy stabilizing behind, beneath, inside you.
The thirdーand perhaps most importantーthing you notice is how you are distinctly still capable of thought and movement. He must notice your delayed confusion with the way he’s ghosting a breathy chuckle on the back of your scalp, shamelessly gulping a deep breath of your scent before explaining. “You’re immune to the effects unless I stop touching you, sweetheart,” he reminds you softly, and it feels as if his voice is coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. “Did you really think I was gonna tear that pretty mind apart? I love it way too much.”
The words leave your lips before you can stop them, sealing your fate. Damning you.
“But I want you to, Toru.”
Strong arms tighten on your body, the hand he used to summon this space sliding back up behind your head to interlock securely again. “Are you sure?” he whispers against your ear, and from that reverent, desperate tone thick in his trembling voice, you should know better than to double down. Hell, you should’ve known better long before all this started. But you’re quite sure you’ve never needed anything more in your life, and you certainly haven’t come this farーand this many times, for that matterーto give up now. Not when this is exactly what you’ve been curious about for so long.
So, perhaps in the most foolish decision you’ve ever made, you lift a trembling hand to ghost your fingertips against the damp crown of cloudy strands sticking to his skin. Brushing your hand back in a way you know he loves, running the front of those silvery tresses through your fingers until your arm won’t bend back any further.
“S’okay,” you assure him softly, and you can’t help the slight smile twitching on your exhausted lips as you hear him whimper. “I trust you, Satoru.”
“Fuck,” he gasps breathlessly, slumping into you like you’ve just struck him directly in the chest. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death o’ me one day, doll.”
And you’re just barely managing to open your lips to huff out a breathy quip, probably to tease him about something or other. But any thought you had a moment prior dissolves into forgotten mist in your mind as you feel the neutral application of his Limitless flick on again, separating you from the warmth and dampness of his body against you. Your snug walls, having finally adjusted to the stretch, feel the all-too-familiar burn of being pushed to their absolute limits again. And finally, as you feel the distant and invasive and minimal and consuming and confusing feeling of what you think is Satoru pulling out just a little and slamming back into you, you realize you’ve already been swept into the thrall of the void.
It’s impossible to explain how it feels; you’re sure it’ll be a pain in the ass to try to relay this experience to him later, whenーifーyou recover from this. You feel every possible version of your climax slam into you as he uses the lock of his fingers behind your head to press you down into his jackhammering thrusts. It’s faint tingles; it’s a full-body burn; it’s ripping through your trembling thighs; it’s simpering out into little tingles as fast as it came; it never ends. Every possibility overwhelms your exhausted mind, and you’re sure you ascend to some higher consciousness through the fog of your utter bliss.
Your body goes limp in Satoru’s arms, falling into a state of complete relaxation despite your mind going into a level of overdrive surely capable of destroying a regular person’s sanity in seconds. And after what feels like an eternity of thisーbut, you find out later, is a mere ten seconds of exposure to the effects of his Infinite Voidーyou can distantly feel your body touching his again. You’re still feeling the after-effects even as his domain shatters to pieces and his voice comes back into focus. He apparently moved you onto your knees at some point and bent you over, hugging your arms back against his chest with his herculean form draped over you.
“Please,” you hear him gasp into the back of your neck, “please please please please, fuck, I-I’ve never been s’fuckin’ deep, h-holy shit, Iー”
And it’s just as you feel the bulbous tip of his twitching length clash against your cervix hard enough to recoil off the spongy surface when you realize he’s sobbing into your shoulder, drenching your skin in salty tears of ecstasy amid his open-mouthed pants. Reality slowly focuses back into one timeline just in time to feel him fill you to the brim with a harsh jettison of cum stuffing your slick walls sinfully full. You’re sure you’ve never felt Satoru cum so hard during the entirety of your relationshipーand from the way his whole body shakes against you, you have a feeling this is a first for him, too.
He stops thrusting at some point and just holds you tight against him, releasing your arms and snatching up your limp, trembling body to squeeze you flush against him. Little whimpers escape into your shoulder in sync with the shallow, sloppy grinds of his hips, and you think he manages to force another wisp of an orgasm out of you before he finally empties himself completely, tip twitching as he cums dry.
Your tangled bodies hit the mattress, which you’re pretty sure turned a full 45 degrees at some point along with the rest of your furniture. You’re both panting and gasping and fighting for air, and he’s using the last of his strength to turn you around and cuddle your face into his heaving, perspired chest.
Several minutes of coming down later, just when you’re feeling your body start to sink into the mattress again and drift to a comfortable, thoroughly satisfied sleep, you feel a shallow grind into your painfully sensitive walls jolt you awake.
“Hold on a moment, doll,” rasps a mischievous voice somewhere above you, and you feel utter dismay mix into something hot in your aching core as he twitches to life inside of you, observant gaze catching the way his cursed energy pulses evenly through his veins all over again. This particular, odd rhythm of energy is something you’ve sensed plenty of times within him; but in your utterly ruined state, you only piece together what’s happening when his voiceーnotably no longer raw and scratchy, tinged with the sound of a malicious grinーwhispers into your hair.
“I haven’t even gotten to our lesson on all of the wonderful benefits of RCT.”
A/N: for tony: hi again!! 🃏 anon here. i’ve been readin your fics for a while now, and i’ve gotten enough confidence to comment under your posts (not with this acc, with my main one ;3) a few times and even talk to you a little!! when i first found your stuff, i was in a sort of denial headspace where i convinced myself i was only reading it bc it was funny, or fascinating, or i just liked your writing. at some point, i realized i was starting to enjoy them in the way they’re intended to be enjoyed, if you catch my drift, and it scared me. without talking too much about it for fear of oversharing, i’ve had plenty of reasons in my life to believe i should be disgusted by my body’s wants and needs. as odd as it might seem to take comfort in smut fics, your works helped me through a really big change in my journey of understanding my body, and reading your fics and seeing how genuinely good of a person you are helped me to dismantle some of that ever-present shame and just learn to enjoy myself for once. i’ve written stuff like this plenty of times before, but it’s always been with the pretense of detachment, like i wasn’t allowed to enjoy my work. so, as my gift to you for being a source of comfort, humor, inspiration, and motivation for me by openly and shamelessly expressing your own enjoyment and desires, i wanted the first proper fic i wrote upon making this step to be in your honor. i… really hope that’s not weird LMAO
plagiarism not authorized.
