Pink Moscato💙💜💖

24

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more?

pairing : jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : explicit sexual content, biting, marking, bruising, rough sex, dirty talk, possessive behavior, degradation kink, jealousy, unprotected sex, mild choking, breeding and emotional manipulation. reader discretion is advised. mature readers only. mdni. 18+.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 15

It was almost midnight when you heard the knock, soft and familiar. You sat up quickly, brushing your hair back, heart picking up for no real reason, already expecting it to be Gojo again, like every other night.

You walked to the door, already opening it, “toruu?”

You stopped mid-sentence. It wasn’t satoru. It was toji. He stood there, filling the doorway, broad and unmoving, eyes dark, mouth set in a hard line. He didn’t say anything, didn’t have to. You could feel it. The tension, the storm sitting just beneath his skin.

“Tojii…?” you looked up at him, but he didn’t answer, just stepped in.

“Close the door.”

“Toji… what are you do—”

“Lock it.” he cut in, not loud, but just enough to leave no room to argue.

Your throat bobbed, and without thinking, you stepped back, did as he asked. The click of the lock was loud in the silence. He moved past you slowly and sat on the edge of your bed, legs spread, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes stayed on the floor for a second before he looked up at you. “Do you love him?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question he dropped the second he sat down and he didn’t even bother easing into it.

“Wh-who?”

“That little punk. who the fuck else.”

“I... I love all of you.”

His face twisted. “so you love me too?”

You were already expecting it, so you met his eyes and said it, steady and honest, without hesitating. “Of course... I do.”

“Liar.”

“W-what?” your heart dropped.

“Liar,” he says again, voice edged with something mean. “the hell you love about me?” his jaw ticks, eyes locked on yours. “I don’t spoil you like Gojo. don’t play nice like Geto. don’t stand there actin’ like you hung the fuckin’ moon like Nanami.” he lets out a short, humorless breath. “I don’t treat you like a damn princess.”

You stepped closer, shaking your head. “That’s not—”

“Shut up.” his voice cut through like a blade. “I ain't stupid. think I don’t see it? I know what the fuck I am. some poor piece of shit with nothing but a dick and a bad attitude. I don’t give you shit. all I do is fuck you.”

He stood now, walking up to you slow, until your back hit the door.

“Isn’t that right?” he asked, eyes wild, voice low. “you love me ‘cause I fuck you good, yeah? ruin you like none of them ever could? that’s all it takes, huh?”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

“Figured,” he muttered, something sharp in the way he said it. His grip tightened slightly, eyes searching your face like he was trying to pull the truth out of you.

“You love it when I use you like a fucktoy. that’s what keeps you crawling back, not ‘cause you love me, not ‘cause you want me, just ‘cause your cunt knows how good I make it feel.”

“Toji, what're you even saying?”

“The fuckin' truth. should just fuck you till you forget those bastards. that what you want?” he grabbed your face, rough, thumb dragging down your lip. “want me to remind you who the fuck showed you what it really means to be with a man?”

You couldn't breathe, the words stuck again, but this time he didn’t let you stay silent.

“That’s right,” he muttered. “it's me and they all fucking know it.”

He pressed his mouth to yours, hard. Desperate, even. Like he was kissing you to prove a point, like he was burning his name into you with every breath. And you melted. His hands were on you immediately, cupping your ass, dragging you into his hips, already half-hard from rage and need.

“Gonna take me like you fuckin’ mean it,” he growled into your neck. “all mine, yeah?”

“Toji—”

“Say it.”

“Yesss...,” you nodded so fast you felt dizzy.

“Damn right you are.”

He hoisted you up and walked you toward the bed like a man possessed. Then he dropped you onto the bed as if he was fed up with holding back. His hands were already tearing at your shirt, yanking it over your head like it was offending him just for being in the way. Your bra followed in seconds, and before you could even think of uttering a word, he was on you again, mouth latching onto your skin, teeth dragging against your collarbone. He kissed you like he was making up for days of starvation, rough and messy, all tongue and no patience.

“Bet that little punk doesn’t kiss you like this?” he muttered against your mouth. “too busy treating you like some little doll to fuckin’ devour you.”

His hands groped your tits, harsh, kneading palms, thumbs flicking your nipples until you gasped. “Look at these fuckin' tits… no wonder they wanna rail you all the time.”

"Tojii.. you!!" you gasped, shocked at the filthy shit he just said. Your fingers twisted hard in his hair, yanking it roughly... which only earned you a sharp, nasty bite on your nipple that made you squeak loud.

“What, baby? don’t like hearin' the truth?” his mouth descended again, tongue circling your nipple before sucking, hard. “they take you out, buy all that pretty shit, hoping you’ll let them bury their cocks in you again and again and again.”

Your thighs squeezed together at his foul mouth. And he definitely felt that.

“Oh? like that? got your cunt all wet?” he grinned against your skin, dragging his mouth lower, teeth grazing. “fuckin' knew it. getting off on all this attention, all of them wrapped around your finger, little slut.” he moved to your other breast, biting now, just enough to make you squirm.

“But me?” he growled, voice darker now. “don’t need to buy you shit. don’t need to say a goddamn word. you spread those legs for me just ‘cause you know I’ll fuck you right.”

Your back arched when he slapped your tit once, then leaned down to mouth it gently like it was some twisted apology. He pulled back just enough to look at you, pupils blown, greed carved into every sharp edge of his face.

“Love that, yeah?” you whimpered, nodding before your mind could stop you. He smirked, hand trailing down your belly, fingers slipping into your panties and feeling just how soaked you were.

“Shit,” he muttered, groaning at the mess he found. “pussy’s cryin' f'me.”

He rubbed your swollen clit with two rough fingers, slow and firm, bullying that sensitive little nub between them. So fuckin' mean.

“Nghh… t-tojiii…” you whined.

“Aww, little princess doesn’t like that?” he mocked, voice dripping with fake pity. “too bad. you take whatever the fuck I give ya'.”

He dipped a thick fingertip into your crying hole, watching you squirm and moan softly. It was all too much. Your body couldn’t handle the overload, and it sure as hell wasn’t helping the man on top of you stay calm either. Toji cursed low under his breath, eyes darkening as he stared down at you. “Come on. legs up. hold ‘em for me.”

He yanked your panties down to your knees, then folded you in half. Your shaky hands came up to grip the back of your thighs, obediently holding yourself open exactly how he ordered.

“Would ya look at that,” he growled, voice all smug. “bet that brat would cry blood if he see you actin’ like this f'me. he’s out there playin’ house… while you’re in here spread open for the man who doesn’t give you shit but cock and chaos.”

You held yourself open like a good girl, thighs shaking hard. Toji leaned in close, dragging his tongue in a slow, wet stripe up your neck. Without warning, he shoved two thick fingers deep inside your cunt. You moaned so loud, back arching clean off the sheets.

“So fuckin' easy.” he pumped his fingers into you hard and fast, thumb grinding ruthless circles on your clit while his mouth latched back onto your tits, sucking and biting until fresh red and purple hickeys bloomed all over your skin. You were gone dumb, gasping his name like it was the only thing keeping you sane, and it only made him meaner.

Toji pulled back, eyes locked between your spread legs. “fuckin' mess,” he smirked, licked his fingers clean, then climbed up your body.

“Gonna make you show who's the real deal, baby,” he whispered, mouth brushing yours. “startin’ right now.”

He settled between your legs, shoving his pants down. Fat, heavy cock slapped hard against your soaked cunt, the wet smack so brutal it made you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. Even his dick was being mean to you.

“Oops,” he said with a shit-eating grin, clearly not giving a fuck. “my bad, doll.”

He leaned down again, grinding his cock against your pussy, the burning heat of it making you whine. His mouth found your neck, sucking hard enough to leave another dark mark.

“Say it again, doll.”

“S-say… what…?” you barely managed.

“That you love me.”

“l-love you… I love you…”

“That so?” he chuckled, eyes glinting. “you say you love me, but you still let those sugar daddies spoil you like their precious little princess, huh?”

He pulled back slightly, letting his gaze rake over your folded, trembling body like he was admiring his property. “See doll, that’s mine,” he said, tapping two fingers hard against your dripping pussy. “get that? cunt is fuckin’ mine.”

Your body jolted when he suddenly leaned in and claimed your mouth in a brutal kiss. He kissed like a man gone mad, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, tongue fucking into your mouth deep and possessive, like he was trying to brand you from the inside out. The kiss had you dizzy, head spinning, when Toji suddenly pulled back just enough to tap his thick cockhead against your soaked pussy twice, heavy and wet smacks that made your clit throb. He dragged the fat tip through your puffy folds, teasing you.

He didn’t ask. Didn’t wait. Didn’t give you a single second to breathe. With a low groan rumbling in his chest, he pushed in slow and deliberate, stretching you open inch by thick inch until he bottomed out deep inside your cunt. You gasped, nails digging hard into his arms and shoulders as your walls clenched around him.

“Fuck… tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “like this pussy’s been saving herself just f'me.”

He didn’t move right away, he just stayed there, buried deep, his hand crawling up to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, just holding.

“Tell me, doll,” he growled, staring down at you. “when they kiss your hand, making sweet little promises—do they know this is where you end up? spread out, stuffed full of cock, begging the man who doesn’t give you shit to ruin you?”

You shook your head in weak denial, and that only made toji smirk like the smug bastard he was. Before you could even catch your breath, he grabbed your hips and hauled half your body clean off the bed, folding you into a tight mating press. He squatted between your spread legs like a fucking beast, holding you right there so you had no choice but to watch.

You could see everything. Every thick inch of his cock was buried deep inside your soaked pussy, stretching you wide open, not a single bit left out. All of him, hot, heavy, and pulsing was stuffed inside your warm heat.

“See that, doll?” he grinned, voice dripping with mockery. “look how deep I’m in ya'.”

He slowly pulled back, letting you watch his fat cock slide out inch by inch, glistening with your juices. Then he slammed back in hard. You cried out, the sudden fullness punching the air from your lungs.

“Where’d my cock go, hm?” he asked, voice taunting.

You could only whimper pathetically. Toji pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in even harder. “Answer me, doll.”

“In… in me…” you gasped.

He grinned, clearly satisfied but pretending he didn’t hear shit. “What was that? couldn’t catch it.”

He slammed into you again, brutal and deep. “Be more clear, princess. where’s my cock?”

You were shaking, voice breaking as you forced the words out. “In… in me… in my cunt…”

Toji’s grin turned feral, eyes dark with pure satisfaction. “That’s my good girl.”

Then he really started slamming into you. Hard, fast, nasty strokes that made your whole body jolt with every thrust, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room as he fucked you like he was trying to ruin you.

You were gasping now, hands scrabbling for anything, his arms, the sheets, the headboard, as Toji fucked into you like he wanted to rearrange your guts and your loyalties at the same time.

He grabbed one of your legs, hiked it over his shoulder, and drove in even deeper, hitting that spot that made your eyes roll back. You didn’t even have the words anymore, just a string of gasps and moans, your pussy clenching tight around him as your climax built fast, overwhelming, shaking. Toji leaned in close again, his voice low and dangerous.

“You love this,” he whispered. “love being fucked dumb, like nothing but a pretty little toy that only I know how to break.”

And when you finally came, hard, legs trembling, body shaking, Toji groaned, gripping your hips and pounding through your orgasm, not slowing down for even a second. He didn’t stop until he was spilling inside you with a grunt, deep and rough, pushing in as far as he could, like he wanted you to feel him for days. After a moment, he collapsed over you, breath hot against your neck, sweat dripping. Then, almost softly, he whispered, “stay with me.”

He hadn’t even pulled out completely, still inside you, chest pressed against yours, sweat slick between your bodies. Then he leaned in once again. You felt his mouth on your collarbone, teeth sinking in deep enough to make you jolt with a hiss. Sharp sting that bloomed into heat as he licked over the spot.

“Not enough,” he growled against your skin. “didn’t say I was done with you.”

He pulled out slow, letting you feel the way your cunt clung to him, only to flip you over onto your stomach, hands planting firm on your hips to raise your ass. “Stay like that. don’t move.”

You were still coming down from your high, but your body listened. The air felt cold on your skin until his mouth met it again, on your shoulder, your back, your waist. Teeth again, dragging and sinking, leaving bruises and welts and little crescents of his bite everywhere he kissed.

“You let them baby you all day,” he muttered, nipping the softest skin just above your ass. “but at night? you beg for me.”

He bit down harder this time, enough to make you whimper. And then he was inside again. You moaned into the pillow, hips bucking instinctively, but he held you still.

“Nuh-uh,” he grunted. “take it. wanted me? got me.” He kept moving, fast and rough, every thrust timed with another sharp bite. “mine.” Bite. “all mine.” Bite.

“They don’t treat you like this? too soft. too scared. cowards.”

Another hard thrust. Another bruise rising on your skin as he bit your shoulder again. You were gasping, eyes wet, your body burning with overstimulation, but you loved it. Every word, every bruise, every growl in your ear lit you up from the inside.

“Toji—please—”

“Please what, baby?” he rasped, hand wrapping around your throat from behind, pulling you up slightly. “please fuck you more?”

You nodded, barely able to speak, just breathy whines as he fucked deeper, faster, grunting with every slap of skin on skin. You felt him twitch inside you, his grip tightening. And when he came again, deep and messy, hips jerking with the last few thrusts, he didn’t pull out right away. He leaned in one last time, mouth at your neck.

“fuckin' love you,” he murmured. “even if I’m the only one who can’t say it nice.”

He bit down again. One final claim. And then he let you collapse. Your body was weak in the aftershock, breath shallow, thighs slick and twitching, the sheets sticking to your back from the heat radiating off both your bodies. Toji hovered above you, his chest rising and falling, glistening with sweat. You winced softly when he shifted again, your whole body aching.

“Toji—s'too much—” you whispered, voice hoarse, eyes wet. But he didn’t go for another round. Instead, he leaned in, thumb swiping at the tears still clinging to your lashes.

“Tch… cried this much for me?” he muttered, then lowered his head to kiss the wet trails left behind. His lips were soft now, too soft for someone who’d just ruined you like he had. Gentle brushes down your cheeks, then your jaw, then your neck where his earlier bites still throbbed. You felt him chuckle when you flinched a little at the contact. He licked a mark near your collarbone, then looked up at you with that smirk.

“Is this how Nanami do it?” he murmured, letting his mouth drag lower, tongue swiping under your breast, then biting gently at the softest part. “he kiss you like this? hold you down fucking till you can’t walk and then kiss the tears away too?”

You whimpered, fingers curling weakly against the sheets. His mouth moved lower, deliberately slow, one hand grabbing your tit roughly, pushing it together with the other to lavish attention, his tongue circling a nipple, then biting. You cried out loud. But it didn't seem like stopping him.

“What about Gojo?” he muttered against your skin, his voice muffled by your body. “does that pretty boy do this? suck you like he’s starved? leave you marked where no one else sees?”

He bit down again, hard enough to make your legs twitch. You arched instinctively into his mouth, a sob escaping. Toji kept going, covering your chest in more bite marks darker than before, lower this time. His hands roamed your sides, holding you like you might disappear if he let go.

“I don’t do soft,” he muttered, voice dark and hoarse, his hand running down your belly, palm splayed over your navel. “I fuck. hard. y'know that.”

He kissed right above your pubic bone. “Just ‘cause I don’t talk like em', doesn’t mean I don’t care. ain’t gotta prove that shit to anyone.” His eyes lifted to yours, gaze intense and honest.

“Unless it’s you,” he added, tapping two fingers against your temple. “get that, doll?”

You giggled softly, cheeks warm, and it made him pause. The smile that broke out across his face wasn’t cocky, it was real, crooked and almost sheepish, like it surprised even him.

“Fuck,” he murmured, flopping down next to you with a deep exhale. He laid a heavy arm across your belly, pulling you close. His voice dropped, suddenly quieter, barely above a breath.

“I’m gonna sleep here—” he caught himself, the edge in his tone faltering. “...shit. I mean, can I sleep here?”

The shift from command to request made your chest tighten a little. You smiled, a soft chuckle slipping past your lips without meaning to. Toji groaned, rolling his eyes with a low grumble. “Tch. don’t laugh at me, brat.”

You turned your head toward him, still smiling, your cheek pressed to the pillow. “I’m not,” you murmured. “It’s just… cute.”

He scoffed, clearly pretending to be annoyed, but the way his arm tightened around you betrayed him. “I ain’t cute,” he muttered. “I’m pissed off, tired, and just got done banging you.”

You giggled again, and he pulled the blanket higher over both of you with a huff, nuzzling his nose against your temple.

“Don’t mock me,” he added more gently, like he couldn’t help himself. “shit’s new to me, alright?”

Your fingers found his lips, tracing the scar across it lightly. “what is?”

“This,” he said simply. “lyin’ with you, askin’ to stay. I don’t do this shit.” He was quiet for a beat, then added, “but with you… I don’t mind it.”

Your heart swelled a little at that. He rubbed slow circles on your back, voice gruff and low against your ear.

“I ain't like em'. ain't got the money, ain't got the manners, but got this,” he said, pressing his palm against your lower back where his bruises painted your skin. “and I’m here. gotta mean somethin’, yeah?”

You nodded, your voice small. “It does.”

Toji kissed the top of your head, just once. Then he grunted, tugging you closer like he planned to hold you through the night. “Good,” he murmured. “now shut up and sleep before I start another round.”

But the teasing tone had faded, replaced with warmth. And even as exhaustion took over, his arms didn’t loosen. Like he wasn’t going anywhere.

***

Weak morning light crept through the curtains, and the spot beside you was already cold. Toji was gone. Probably in the kitchen or already starting one of his early workouts, the overachieving brute. You sighed, dragging yourself to the bathroom. Body aching in all the ways that said, yep, you got destroyed last night. Brushing your teeth, stepping into the shower, it was all routine, until you stood in front of the mirror.

“Oh. my. god.”

It looked like you’d lost a fight with a pack of wild dogs and barely survived. Neck, chest, thighs, everywhere was marked up. Bruises in all shades, angry red bite marks, purpling hickeys blooming like war medals across your skin. One particularly nasty one shaped like Toji’s molars stared back at you from your inner thigh.

“This man needs to be put on a leash,” you groaned.

You quickly tugged on a high-neck, full-sleeved top, one you didn’t even remember owning and grabbed the baggiest pair of sweatpants you had. The outfit screamed modest grandma, completely opposite of your usual bright, flirty clothes. But you were NOT letting the rest of the house see what Toji’s jealousy tantrum had done.

Padding to the kitchen, you kept your head down. Nanami was already sitting with his morning paper and coffee, looking pristine as always. He glanced at you once, brows furrowing. “cold?”

You froze. “y-yeah.”

Nanami looked toward the open balcony door. “It’s not winter yet.”

You tugged your sleeves nervously. “still... I just—got cold, okay?”

That’s when Gojo showed up, premium robe hanging off him, completely at ease, hair a mess, still stretching like he’d just crawled out of bed.

“Bunnyy~!” he sang, eyes landing on you, then immediately narrowing in exaggerated betrayal. “why are you dressed like... Nanami?”

You flushed. “I—what?”

“You’re literally cosplaying Nanamin right now!” he wailed. “where’s that little yellow top I got you? you know, the one that shows off your tits just right when you’re bending over the—”

“Gojo,” Nanami said sternly, glaring over the rim of his mug.

“I’m just saying, she’s supposed to be my sunshine in this house,” Gojo kept going dramatically. “and now she’s dressed like the weather report!”

Before you could move away, Gojo closed in quick, sudden. His hand caught the collar of your top and yanked it down in one sharp tug.

“Satoru!” you snapped, grabbing his wrist, but it was already too late. The damage was done.

Nanami stood up so fast his chair scraped the floor. “GOJO!”

Gojo blinked. “wait—oh my fucking god.”

Both of them stared, eyes wide. You were covered, neck to chest in love bites, hickeys, bruises. “Covered” was an understatement.

“Gojo, what the hell is wrong with you?” Nanami barked.

“What did I do?” Gojo pulled his hands back from you, like it burned. His eyes flicked to you, wide and wild, like he’d just been accused of something far worse than he deserved.

Nanami was losing it, his fists tightening at his sides. “you’re the one sneaking into her room every night, of course it’s you!”

“WOAH WOAH WOAH!” Gojo backed up, hands raised like he was getting arrested. “okay, yes, I do sneak into her room. many times. but not last night!”

Nanami scowled. “oh please.”

“I swear!” Gojo insisted. “I got high off sugu’s gummies and passed out on the bed like a corpse! ask him!”

You quickly adjusted your top, heart thudding as you darted toward the living room to escape their eyes. But Gojo was already halfway to their room, banging on the door.

“SUGUUU! WAKE UP! I NEED AN ALIBI!”

Geto shuffled out moments later, half-asleep and his hair wild. “Jesus, what now?”

“Tell him I didn’t even leave the bed last night,” Gojo said urgently, grabbing Geto by the shoulders.

Geto rubbed his eyes. “he didn’t. he was completely stoned and wouldn’t stop humming ‘careless whisper’ in his sleep.”

“See!” Gojo pointed triumphantly. “Innocent!”

Geto glanced over at you, blinking the last of the sleep from his eyes and then he stilled. His gaze dragged, slow and deliberate, taking you in from head to toe. He crooked two fingers toward himself, wordless. You went without thinking, hurrying over.

The moment you were close enough, his hand came up, fingers warm as they caught your chin, tilting your face up. He turned it slightly, then the other way, quiet and assessing. His thumb brushed along your jaw where the marks hadn’t quite faded. A pause. Then, almost absentmindedly, he hooked a finger into your collar and pulled it down just enough to see.

His brows lifted, amusement flickering across his face. “…holy shit.”

“What?” Nanami and Gojo said at the same time.

Geto didn’t answer immediately. His eyes flicked over you once more, slower this time, like he was putting pieces together and enjoying it.

“I mean—” he let out a low breath, half a laugh under it. “someone needs to be put in a cage.”

Gojo gasped. “okay now I feel hurt. even I don’t do that much damage.”

“I would never leave bite marks,” Nanami muttered, disappointed.

“I mean... you’d never even leave a hickey,” Gojo shot back.

“Because I’m not a high schooler, gojo.”

Geto just laughed, completely entertained as they all started arguing again.

You finally blurted out, cheeks blazing, “It was Toji!”

Silence. All three men turned toward you.

Nanami blinked. “Toji?”

Gojo’s jaw dropped. “Toji???”

Geto grinned like Christmas came early. “so that’s why he was sulking all day.”

Gojo pointed at you like he was trying to process a betrayal. “wait—so he got jealous, banged you, and then just left? that moron!”

“Shut the hell up,” came a low voice from the hallway. Toji had emerged, towel around his neck, hair damp from a shower, looking all mad and annoyed.

Gojo crossed his arms. “you bit her up like a chew toy, man.”

Toji shrugged. “good.”

Nanami gave him a flat look. “you’re insane.”

“Yeah,” Toji said, walking into the kitchen to grab a protein bar. “but you all still wanna fuck her, so I’m clearly doing something right.”

At that moment, you almost prayed for it, that the gods would be kind enough to just let the ground open and take you with it.

***

Gojo had been pouting all morning, sulking like a rejected prom queen. His arms crossed, face pulled into a dramatic frown, sighing every ten minutes just loud enough to make sure someone would ask what was wrong.

News flash—no one did.

So finally, as Nanami sat down with his meal, Gojo snapped.

“I just wanna know why I got a ‘no bunny’ ban, but Toji the freakin’ mauler gets a free pass!”

Nanami looked up calmly. “because you take things too far.”

Gojo pointed at you across the table. “she was just a little bit covered in hickeys when I was involved. just a tasteful few! romantic even! but he turned her into a crime scene and you all let it slide?”

Nanami didn’t flinch. “because he doesn’t do it when she’s half-asleep.”

Gojo gasped. “that happened once! and she said she didn’t mind—right, princess?”

You glanced up from your bowl, biting back a laugh. “I… didn’t really know what was happening…”

“Seriously? can you be on my side for once, bunny?” Gojo argued. “for fuck’s sake, Is anyone ever on my side?””

No one responded.

“Wow,” Gojo said, clutching his chest. “no one is defending me? I’m the villain now? fine. I’m hurt. I’m wounded. I’m—” he stood dramatically, scoffing. “—taking my emotional baggage and going to my room.” He stormed off, dramatically brushing his robe like a cloak behind him.

***

Later that evening, one by one, everyone returned from work. The apartment buzzed with the usual chaos. Nanami was on the dining table chopping veggies, meal-prepping for the week, Geto was sprawled on the couch watching a documentary with questionable content, and Gojo had emerged in pajamas as if he hadn’t been home all day.

You were hanging near the shelf in the hallway when Toji walked in last, gym bag slung over his shoulder. He didn’t say much, never did, but his eyes scanned the room, then landed on you.

“Come to the balcony.”

That alone made Gojo perk up immediately. “suspicious,” he whispered, following behind you like a gossip-hungry aunt.

Toji turned mid-step, gave him a look sharp enough to slice, and Gojo stopped mid-snoop, hands in the air. “alright, alright! damn.”

You stepped onto the balcony with Toji, and he slid the glass door shut behind you, cutting off the sounds of Gojo muttering “I’ll just press my face to the glass then” from inside.

You blinked up at Toji. “what’s going on?”

He said nothing at first, just pulled something from his bag. A plushie. A soft, slightly chonky grey kitten with a little ribbon tied around its neck.

Your eyes sparkled, practically lighting up your whole face. “Is… is this for me?”

“Who else would it be for?” he muttered, already looking away like he regretted this deeply emotional act of service.

You cupped it like a precious gem. “oh my god, it’s so cute.”

Toji gave a single nod, hands in his pockets. “don’t I get a kiss or something?”

“Oh! uh… yeah… I mean—” you leaned up and pecked him quickly. Too quickly.

He scoffed, caught your waist, and kissed you again. Longer, deeper, with his hand slipping behind your neck. When he finally pulled away, his eyes lazily scanned your neck.

“…Damn. I really am a damn dog.”

You giggled. “yeah, kind of...”

Toji blinked. Something about your laughter hit him in the chest, his usual dead-eyed stare softening for a split second.

And then—BANG BANG BANG.

“Open up!” Gojo yelled from behind the glass. “I know you’re giving her drugs or something!”

Toji sighed heavily and slid the door open. You followed him back inside, still holding the kitten plush like a prized trophy. Gojo immediately trailed behind, staring suspiciously.

“Oi. what’s with that thing?”

“Uhm… Toji gave it to me,” you said it softly, clutching it a little tighter on instinct, before that manchild tried to snatch it away like the little punk he is.

Gojo gasped like he’d seen a ghost. “HE DID WHAT?”

You nodded, smiling sheepishly.

Gojo snatched the plush from your arms like a jealous brat. “what the fuck is this?! a kitten?! she’s a bunny, not a kitten, old man!”

Toji groaned. “what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You seriously went into a store, saw this plushie, and thought, yupe, this screams her? do you even know her aesthetic?” Gojo said, waving the plush in the air.

“I liked it. thought she’d like it. bought it. gave it to her. that’s it.”

“Oh my god,” Gojo whispered like he’d just uncovered a dark family secret. “Toji’s gone soft.”

The noise summoned Geto, shirt unbuttoned, his eyes sleepy. “what’s the noise now?”

Nanami trailed in with a tea cup. “let me guess. Gojo’s being dramatic again.”

Gojo turned, holding the plush like it was evidence. “look! Toji got her a kitten plushie! he’s gone full daddy mode! I’m witnessing a rebrand in real time!”

Geto squinted. “awww, it’s kinda cute.”

“It’s weird!” Gojo snapped. “Is no one disturbed by this?! she’s been corrupted by bitey the barbarian and now he’s giving her toys like a predator!”

Nanami raised a brow. “Satoru.”

“Nah! we’re going to talk about the real issue here—does she even like the plushie? or is she just pretending because he's scary?”

Everyone turned to you.

Your eyes widened. “what? no, I actually—”

“Blink twice if he threatened you,” Gojo interrupted, narrowing his eyes.

You looked helplessly between them. “I really do like it!”

“Yeah, sure,” Gojo muttered, tossing the plushie in the air dramatically. “stockholm syndrome.”

That’s when Toji, finally done with this circus, yanked the plush from Gojo’s hands with a grunt and shoved it back into yours.

“There,” he muttered. “It’s hers. shut the hell up already.”

You held it close, blinking up at him.

Gojo crossed his arms. “wow. protective over the plushie. what’s next, matching pajamas?”

Toji looked like he was one more sentence away from throwing Gojo off the balcony.

Geto chuckled. “hey, if he buys her a collar next, I’m leaving the apartment.”

Nanami just sighed, sipping his tea. “I hate this place.”

***

The apartment had finally quieted down after Gojo’s dramatic meltdown and the succeeding teasing that followed Toji’s unexpected plushie gesture. Everyone had retreated to their little corners. Gojo and Geto holed up in their room, the muffled sound of game controllers clicking and Gojo’s occasional dramatic whining spilling through the closed door. Nanami was out on the balcony, laptop open, posture perfect, sipping his tea like he wasn’t surrounded by degenerates.

And you? curled up on the couch, hugging the kitten plushie close to your chest. You didn’t know why it felt so special. Maybe it was because it came from Toji, who didn’t really do this kind of stuff.

No one expected it of him. No one asked him for tenderness. But there it was, soft and fuzzy in your arms, a strange kind of warmth that made your cheeks glow even under the TV light.

You turned the plush over, inspecting it like it might have a secret message hidden in its seams. It had no tags, clearly picked with thought. Its paws were slightly weighted, its ribbon tied a little clumsily, like maybe Toji had done it himself. The idea made your heart do a quiet little flip.

You were watching One Piece, something comforting and familiar. An older episode where the crew was laughing and fighting over something ridiculous. You had half your attention on the screen, the rest on the plush, when you heard slow, heavy footsteps. Didn’t even need to turn around. Knew who it was by the pace alone.

Toji.

He plopped down on the couch next to you, a low grunt escaping his chest as he stretched his long legs out. He said nothing at first, just watched you with that usual unreadable expression, tired eyes, lips parted slightly, posture lazy. Then, slowly, his arm came around your waist.

You blinked as he tugged you sideways into his lap, your body shifting easily to fit against his. You squeaked a little at the sudden movement, but Toji just sniffed near your neck like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“…This smell.” his voice was rough and quiet. “is that your shampoo?”

You nodded, a little flustered. “yeah.”

“…Which one?”

You turned to look at him, brows raised in surprise. “… that cherry blossom one. the pink bottle.”

Toji didn’t respond immediately. He just nodded, very seriously, as if mentally cataloging it like a hitman memorizing a target’s habits. You could practically see the gears turning. And then casually, almost awkwardly, he glanced at the screen.

“What’s this shit?”

Your heart paused. “It’s One Piece,” you said, a little surprised. “you don’t know it?"

He made a vague grunt. "nah.”

That caught your attention. “wait—you’ve never watched One Piece?”

“don’t know what's that, princess.”

You giggled, sinking further into his chest, your plush still clutched against you. “well, I love it,” you said proudly. “I grew up watching this.”

Toji hummed. “so, then who’s your favorite?”

You lit up instantly. “I have so many,” you said, already leaning forward in excitement. “like, obviously Luffy. Zoro too—he’s so strong, like ugh, I love him. Shanks is cool, also love him. Sanji’s a flirt but he's soo sweet. and Law—oh, he is hot.”

Toji raised an eyebrow. “damn, you’ve got a whole lineup.”

You let out a soft laugh.

He grunted, looking at the screen again. “you like the dumb stretchy kid?”

“Luffy? he’s not dumb! he’s the besttt!”

Toji side-eyed you. “yeah. whatever.”

You smacked his arm playfully, and he caught your wrist mid-air, his grip gentle as he pulled your hand to his chest, keeping it there. He was quiet for a beat. Then, slowly, softly:

“So… this shit makes you happy?”

You turned to look up at him, surprised again. His voice sounded weirdly careful, like he was tiptoeing through a minefield.

“…Yeah,” you said quietly, nodding. “it does. kind of like… comfort food. just feels good, no matter what...”

Toji didn’t say anything to that. But he stared at you longer than usual, as if trying to understand something he never had to think about before. Like comfort, or nostalgia, or why you looked so damn peaceful with that kitten plush clutched in your arms.

From the balcony, Nanami had glanced inside casually and paused. He could see the two of you on the couch, tucked together like mismatched puzzle pieces. You were talking animatedly, Toji was listening. Not just enduring, but listening, brows faintly furrowed, eyes trained on you like he was trying to decode you in real-time. And then Toji said something, and you laughed again, head falling against his shoulder, plush still pressed to your chest.

Nanami blinked slowly.

Toji Fushiguro. Asking questions. Engaging in a normal conversation. Holding you like you were something soft. Was this a glitch in the universe?

For a split second, Nanami felt something—warmth? Amusement? Maybe a twinge of jealousy. He was usually the one who listened, asked questions, remembered your favorite shows and food and your little life stories. But even he had to admit. Seeing Toji try, really try to be tender, in his weird rough-edged way, was… surprising. Almost sweet.

Nanami smiled faintly to himself and sipped his tea, letting the feeling settle. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a disaster after all.

Back on the couch, Toji shifted a bit, his hand lightly stroking your thigh now. “…sooo, that stretchy kid’s your type, huh?”

You glanced up. “why? jealous?”

“Tch,” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “If I could stretch like that, you wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.”

You choked on your own breath, smacking his arm again. “Tojiiiiiii!”

He smirked, leaning his head back against the couch, closing his eyes briefly. But his grip on you stayed firm. The plush was between your chests now, squished softly, and Toji’s fingers never stopped moving, absent-minded, rubbing over your leg, or playing with the edge of your sleeve. He wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t good at it. But damn, he was trying.

And you? you were melting.

Maybe it wasn’t perfect. But it felt real.

And you liked that.

to be continued in the next chapter...

comment down to get tagged in upcoming chapters.

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more?

pairing : jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : emotional conflict, toxic/jealous dynamics, possessive behavior, manipulation, light angst, mature language, insecurity, arguments, reader discretion is advised, 18+ only, mdni.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 14

Gojo was up early. suspiciously early.

He strolled into the living room in nothing but his sweats, hair still messy, eyes glowing with dangerous levels of fake optimism.

“day seven of my suffering,” he announced loudly, stretching with a dramatic groan. “I just survived hell. y'all better pray I don’t unleash a week’s worth of pent-up frustration tonight. especially you, Toji.”

Toji didn’t even look up from his plate. "but it's only been six days? who you tryna fool, brat?

Gojo smirked. “no, today is my last day, I decided it. y'all can go to hell.”

Toji calmly dropped his spoon and looked at Gojo. “you better pray I don’t put you on a whole month ban next, brat.”

From the couch, you choked on your coffee. you were currently curled up in Nanami’s lap, legs over his, wearing one of his loose shirts that barely hid anything. his hand had snuck under it ages ago, warm and slow and deliberate, brushing under your breast, then down your waist as he kissed your shoulder lazily. that was when he froze.

“what’s this?” Nanami’s voice was stern as he lifted the fabric lower. there, just below your collarbone, was a fresh mark. dark. red. slightly puffy. like a bite. Nanami’s brows furrowed. “Toji,” he said sharply, turning his gaze.

Toji raised an eyebrow. “hmm?”

“how many times have I told you not to bite her like a feral dog?”

Toji blinked, offended. “watch your mouth. that ain't me.”

Nanami scoffed. “don’t lie—”

“hey,” Toji said, sitting up. “I bite her, yeah, but haven't marked her like that in a week. that’s fresh.”

They both looked at Geto, who had just walked in, towel around his neck, sweat glistening from his morning workout.

“don’t look at me,” Geto said, grabbing a protein bar. “you know I don’t go for the rough stuff unless she asks.”

Nanami’s hand slipped down from your ribs and gently traced the bite again. then all eyes turned to Gojo. he stood by the kitchen doorway, mid-sip of his juice, frozen like a deer in headlights.

“…what?” he asked, feigning innocence.

You couldn’t help the blush rising on your face. the way Nanami was looking at you, disappointed and suspicious and the slight curl of Geto’s lips made your stomach twist.

“you’ve got two seconds to explain, Gojo,” Nanami said.

Gojo rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting. “okay—okay—technically—hypothetically—maybe I had a weak moment.”

“Toji’s gonna kill you,” Geto said, amused.

“I knew you were sneaking into her room!” Nanami said, voice rising.

“guys, guys,” Gojo raised both hands. “she said yes! her eyes said yes! her moan said yes! It was a very consensual bite!”

“you really are out of control,” Nanami muttered.

Toji, finally grinning, leaned back in his chair. “so much for the good boy act.”

There was a beat of silence after. you could hear the soft hum of the fridge and the slow tick of the clock. the men just… stared at him. and Gojo who was so smug seconds ago, now gripping his glass of juice like a lifeline. you groaned quietly, face dropping into your hands as you sank deeper into the couch, fully prepared to pretend you weren’t there anymore.

Nanami stood up, expression unreadable. Geto leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Toji was still sitting, but the way his jaw tensed made the air in the room shift. Nanami spoke first.

“when?” his voice was low and sharp.

Gojo blinked. “uh. when what?”

“when did you first break it?”

Gojo looked around. “define ‘break.’”

“Toji,” Nanami said without looking away from Gojo, “get the belt.”

“OKAY OKAY OKAY,” Gojo waved both hands, stumbling over his words. “like—three days ago. maybe four. depending on how you count time. or if we’re using the gregorian calendar—”

“Satoru.”

“midnight-ish. so technically still day 3. It wasn’t like, planned or anything.”

Geto raised an eyebrow. “what did you do?”

Gojo coughed. “boob stuff.” you groaned into your hands.

“boob stuff?” Geto echoed. “just that?”

Gojo gave a nervous grin. “just a little bit! hands-on! soft! tender!”

Nanami crossed his arms. “and that’s it?”

Gojo hesitated.

“Toji,” Nanami said again.

“OKAY FIINEEE,” Gojo shouted. “It was the next night when it got… intense.”

“how intense?” Geto asked, eyes narrowing.

Gojo looked at you. then away. “...like...uhm head, maybe...” you let out a muffled squeak behind your hands.

Geto blinked. “you made her give you head?”

“I begged and she said yes!”

Toji finally stood, scraping his chair back.

“did you touch her?” Nanami asked coldly.

Gojo looked panicked. “no! well—yes. but just for a bit!”

“did you hump her?” Geto asked calmly.

Gojo paused. “I mean, yeah. but—”

"but what?" Toji moved closer, cracked his neck, and asked with zero shame, “did you cum in her, you little shit?”

Gojo’s mouth opened. closed. opened again. “... not in her, more like "on" her, but yeah....”

You choked on your breath, face burning, unable to handle the choice of vocabulary these men had, especially when they were talking about you, wishing the couch would just open up and swallow you whole.

“oh my god,” you whispered from behind your hands.

Geto started laughing under his breath while Nanami looked like he aged ten years.

“did you use protection?” Nanami asked slowly, dangerously.

Gojo looked at the ceiling. “...define ‘use.’”

“you little—”

“listen!!” Gojo held out his arms like he was calming down wild animals. “I’ve been suffering. I was touch-starved. you were all out here living your best lives. I cracked!”

“you sprinted past the line, not cracked,” Nanami muttered.

Geto looked down at the floor, lips twitching. “so let me get this straight. the ban’s been broken since night three. you snuck into her room three times?”

Gojo nodded sheepishly.

“and every time you went further?”

He nodded again. silence. Toji looked ready to launch Gojo into the wall. Nanami just sighed deeply like he was recalculating his life choices. Geto actually looked surprised, which said something.

Gojo raised his hands again. “but—but she said yes! you can’t blame me for her being too pretty at night! her little shorts? her sleepy voice? I would’ve died if I didn’t—”

“you’re gonna die now,” Toji said.

“I love her!” Gojo shouted suddenly. he was flushed, frantic, hands thrown up like a madman. “I love her. sorry. I went feral. can’t take it anymore. she’s soft and warm and sweet and I’d kill you all for one more night of holding her—”

“...I need to lie down,” Nanami said.

Gojo didn’t even try to defend himself anymore. he just walked toward you with those impossibly pleading, ocean-blue eyes, the same ones that had manipulated you night after night into breaking every rule you all had agreed on. he crouched in front of you, hands on your knees, voice hushed and hoarse.

“babe... please. be on my side. just this once. can’t take it if they all gang up on me.”

You opened your mouth but couldn’t look him in the eyes. your voice came out soft, but firm. “… don’t fight, guys. let him go. It's fine..…”

Nanami sat beside you, his hand slid around your waist, pulling you against him as he brushed his fingers along your cheek. his expression wasn’t angry, but deeply disappointed, like a father catching his kid sneaking out for the tenth time.

“sweetheart… we did it for you. you were tired. and he was being too much.” Gojo opened his mouth to protest, but Nanami continued, voice firmer now. “and what did he do the moment we trusted him? broke it. again and again. he’s proven he can’t survive a week without touching you.”

Gojo threw up his hands, practically shrieking. “can you blame me? look at her! and if any of you were in my shoes, y’all would’ve folded faster than I did!”

Nanami didn’t answer. Toji scoffed into his coffee, leaning on the wall, his usual lazy drawl laced with honesty. “wouldn’t last twenty-four hours.”

Geto grinned, arms crossed. “agree. If she so much as looked at me like that? yeah, no shot.”

Gojo turned toward them with wide eyes, gesturing wildly. “see!? and somehow I’m the villain?”

Nanami’s voice cut the tension like a blade. “this isn’t about you being a villain, Gojo. this is about control. all this happened because you were going feral. you couldn’t stop. wouldn’t even let her sleep. she couldn’t even walk right for days.”

Gojo’s tantrum deflated instantly. he looked genuinely wrecked, shoulders slumped, pouty lips trembling. “don’t say it like that. you make it sound like I’m… some rabid dog.”

“you were sure acting like one,” Geto said, shrugging.

“I just love her, okay?” Gojo whined, dramatically falling to his knees. “I love her too much. and she’s so perfect and— and I don’t know how to not want her.”

Nanami didn’t spare him a glance. “and if you do want her, control yourself. If not, I’ll ban her from you for good.”

That hit Gojo like a bullet. he gasped like Nanami had stabbed him in the chest. “no, no, no— don’t say things like that! you can’t— I’ll behave! I swear! I’ll be a good boy!”

He grabbed your hands and pressed kisses to your knuckles like a man begging for mercy at a trial. “I’m gonna be good. just let me have her sometimes. I’ll even wait in line!”

Toji chuckled lowly. “pathetic.”

Gojo didn’t even argue. “yes I am. but none of you can say she doesn’t make you act worse.”

That shut everyone up for a moment. you could feel the heat of their gazes on you and not one of them denied it.

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose again, visibly holding himself back. “I'm warning you. you better not pull this again. you go off the rails one more time, gonna ban you forever.”

“wha—!” Gojo clutched his chest dramatically. “you wouldn’t—! that’s torture!”

“then get your act together,” Nanami growled.

Gojo sniffled. “fine. fine! I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. I won’t even look at her.” you raised an eyebrow. “Toji can spank me if I do,” he added dramatically.

Toji cracked his knuckles. “don’t tempt me.”

Gojo threw himself to the floor in front of the couch with a dramatic thud, arms outstretched like a martyr. "please! mercy! lift the ban! swear on my cock I’ll behave!"

Nanami raised a brow. “you swore before.”

“was young and reckless back then,” Gojo sniffled. “I’ve changed. a new man now. a man who respects boundaries. a man who won’t crawl into her bed at 2AM whispering, ‘just the tip, baby.’”

Toji spat out his drink. “you said that?!”

“no comment.” Gojo cleared his throat, straightened his spine, and clasped his hands in prayer. “from this day forward, I vow: no uninvited groping, no sleepy humpy-wumpy—nothing!”

Geto gagged. “did you just say humpy-wumpy?”

Gojo nodded solemnly. “yes. I am rebranding myself as ‘Gojo the respectful.’”

“you’re rebranding yourself as a damn clown,” Toji muttered.

Gojo ignored him, shuffling over to Nanami on his knees like a man asking for his final meal. “Nanamin. I am but a humble servant of lust and poor decisions. please. give me a chance. If I break the rules again, you can—”

“cut off your dick?” Toji offered.

“okay, wow,” Gojo flinched. “let's not go medieval.”

Geto leaned in. “alright, Satoru. convince us. say something that proves you’re innocent, responsible, and totally capable of controlling your little friend down there.”

Gojo stood up, cleared his throat, and puffed out his chest. “I can spend a whole day in the same room as her, while she’s wearing those tiny shorts, and not get hard.”

silence. “…that’s a lie, toru....” you said quietly.

“I know, baby,” he whimpered. “just wanted them to believe.”

Nanami sighed deeply. “you have one chance. and if you even look like you’re gonna hump her in sleep again—”

“that was one time!”

“—we’re chaining you to the balcony.”

Gojo clutched his chest. “so cruel, so unfair. I'm just a man with a huge d—”

“finish that sentence and you're dead” Nanami snapped.

Gojo shut up. Immediately. sat cross-legged on the floor. hands folded. halo practically floating above his snowy head. "I'll be good. the best. saint of celibacy."

“why do I not believe you,” Geto muttered, rubbing his temples.

“because I’m too charming to trust!” Gojo grinned. then, turning to you with sparkling eyes: “right, princess?” you gave him a suspicious look.

Nanami finally stood up from the couch, before stepping in front of Gojo, who was still knelt on the floor like a punished teenager. the room quieted the second Nanami opened his mouth.

"Gojo," he said flatly, his voice low and even, the kind that made everyone straighten in their seats. "this isn’t funny anymore. we’ve all been patient with you. but whatever it is between us, it’s already too much. overwhelming." Gojo’s smile had long since faded.

"and you?" Nanami went on, stepping closer. "sneaking around behind our backs. breaking the rules you agreed to. act like a mutt who can’t even wait a few damn days without humping her into the mattress."

“I—”

“no,” Nanami snapped. “don’t interrupt. I’m tired of the jokes. If you actually love her—”

“I do!” Gojo snapped, louder than intended. his voice cracked a little.

Nanami stared him down. “then act like it.” his gaze was intense. “act like a man. be someone she can rely on. be good to her, Gojo. be better.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Nanami turned on his heel, grabbed his car keys from the coffee table, and muttered, “that’s all I have to say.”

And with that, he walked out. the front door clicked shut behind him. Gojo sat still on the floor, shoulders sagging, fingers twitching in his lap. for once, he looked like he wasn’t sure what to say.

Toji finally grunted from behind his mug. “well. that hit.”

Gojo stayed silent. for once. you sat on the couch, watching the aftermath settle, your eyes fixed on his form, not quite sure what to do. you’d never seen him look this lost before… and it made something in your chest tighten just a little too much.

***

The following days marked what Geto mockingly started calling Gojo’s Saint Era, a miraculous phase where Satoru actually kept himself in check. mostly.

Sure, he still fucked you. still found ways to sneak in to your bed, his touches always desperate but more deliberate. but there was something softer in how he handled you now, like he remembered Nanami’s words and decided to prove he could be the kind of man you needed. not just the man who couldn’t keep his hands off you.

He’d bring your favorite drinks and snacks without asking, sometimes with stupidily cute little notes folded and slipped into the carrier tray. he’d steal your phone and spam the camera roll with goofy selfies and heart hands, half of them with you blurred in the corner because he’d dragged you in last second. he’d even booked a dinner reservation at a place you once mentioned in passing, showing up at your door with flowers in one hand like it was a date from a cheesy drama.

Dinner had been… sweet. weirdly so. he was calmer than usual, still flirty, leaning in too close, murmuring things against your ear, letting his hand wander under the table like he couldn’t help himself, but there was something softer threaded through it this time.

Love, maybe. or something that looked a lot like it.

He didn’t let you pay. didn’t even let you reach for the door. kept your hand tucked in his the whole walk, like you weren’t getting it back. stopped you under a streetlamp just to kiss you slow, like it was something he’d already played out in his head a hundred times before this.

And all of it, the dates, the gifts, the way he looked at you, the constant stream of compliments, none of it went unnoticed. especially not by Toji.

Because when the two of you stepped back inside the apartment after dinner, laughing over something stupid Gojo had said, Toji was standing right there, his arms folded, eyes dark. he stared the both of you down like a parent catching their kid breaking curfew.

Gojo froze mid-step. “oh. hey.”

Toji didn’t smile. “so now you’re her boyfriend or something?”

Gojo blinked, caught off-guard. “what?”

Toji tilted his head, voice sharp with sarcasm. “what? we’re just side pieces now? little extras? you wine and dine her, show her off, shower her in shit while the rest of us sit back waiting for crumbs?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Gojo stepped in first. “what do you mean, huh?” he laughed nervously. “don’t start now.”

Toji’s jaw tightened. “don’t start what? you’ve been walking around here like you got a ring on her. like we’re all just in your damn shadow now. even sleep in her bed every fuckin' night like honeymooners.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair. “cause I love her, got a problem with that?”

“and you think we don’t?” Toji snapped. “think this is some fuckin' race? think you win just ‘cause you throw some money and act like her man?”

Gojo looked genuinely shaken, hands half-raised. “.… I’m showing her I care. Is that a crime now?”

Toji didn’t reply right away. just stared at you, the flowers in your hand, the tiny necklace Gojo had clipped around your neck during dessert, the glossy look in your eyes that screamed you were still a little dazed from all the attention. and it made something bitter curl inside his chest.

Because Gojo wasn’t wrong. but neither was Toji. you weren’t just loved. you were being claimed. and for the first time, it was starting to show.

Tension thickened like smoke in the apartment air. Toji took a step forward, cracking his neck like he was holding himself back. “we said we’d all keep it fair, but you’re out here buying her shit, taking her out like it’s fucking Valentine’s, cuddling her on the goddamn couch every chance you get like she’s your girlfriend. like you own her.”

Gojo’s grin dropped into something sharp. “never said I owned her.”

“you sure act like it.” Toji barked.

Gojo scoffed, crossing his arms. “you sound jealous.”

Toji’s nostrils flared. “you sound like a smug little punk who’s never had to fight for anything in his life.”

“oh, please,” Gojo said, laughing dryly. “you mad 'cause I treat her right? 'cause I spend a little cash? maybe if you weren’t such a broke-ass bitch—”

That hit home. Toji’s fist clenched so tight his knuckles cracked. “say that again.”

Gojo didn’t back down. “I said—maybe if you weren’t such a broke fuck, you wouldn’t be so pressed when someone gives her a little luxury.”

“luxury, huh?” Toji’s voice dropped lower, darker. “you think that’s what she wants? money? sparkling shit? think your damn receipts matter?”

Gojo snapped back, “I don’t just buy her stuff, fucker. I treat her like she deserves.”

“oh, get the fuck outta here,” toji scoffed, shaking his head. “you overwhelm her. acts like she’s some kind of obsession.” his gaze flicked to you, then back to gojo, sharp and unimpressed. “like she’s just there for you. you don’t care what she wants, long as you get what you need.”

“at least I don’t treat her like a fuckdoll,” Gojo snapped.

Toji’s eyes burned. “you really wanna go there?”

Gojo stared him down. “I said what I said.”

Toji stepped closer. “says the one who needs it every damn second like his dick’s on a timer. don’t talk to me like you’re any better.”

“oh, I need it?” Gojo raised an eyebrow, then tilted his head at you. “then tell me, Toji. If you’re so in love, show me a single thing you’ve gotten her. a bracelet? a chain? a dress? anything.”

Toji went quiet. Gojo grinned, his voice pure venom. “oh wait… I remember. a plan B. nice.”

Toji lunged, cursing under his breath, but you gasped out a quick, “stop it!” just in time, stepping between them without thinking, putting yourself right in front of Gojo like it was instinct.

You didn’t even realize what you’d done at first. It just… happened. but the second you looked up, you saw the way toji’s face changed, something darker settling in his eyes, like you’d just made it worse instead of stopping it.

Gojo didn’t even flinch, he just reached for you, gently pulling you back and stepping in front of you. “face it, man. you don’t love her. you just need her to bend over when you say so.”

“say that again and see what happens,” Toji snapped.

“hit a nerve?” Gojo yelled. “cause right now, all I see is a guy mad he’s not number one anymore.”

Their voices were climbing, heavy and ugly, like the whole room might explode. that’s when you slipped out, quiet as you could, heart pounding, eyes burning. you walked fast to the balcony, tugging the glass door open and stepping into the cool air like you were running from a fire. Geto was already out there, leaning on the railing, cigarette in hand, black hoodie loose on his frame.

“yikes. what’d I miss?” he turned when he heard the door slide. “everything alright?”

You shook your head quickly, arms hugging yourself. “they’re fighting. In the living room.”

Geto chuckled lowly, dragging his cigarette and exhaling slow. “let me guess... Toji and Satoru?” you nodded.

“what’s it this time?” he asked, flicking ash off the edge.

You sighed. “I don't know how to explain, they are just fighting so much….”

“and the reason is…?” he asks, glancing at you, the corner of his lips lifting into a slow smirk.

“well…” you hold his gaze, not looking away. “me.”

Geto started laughing mid-sentence. you blinked. “It’s not funny.”

“no, it’s not,” he agreed, still laughing. you scowled and turned away, but he only grinned more, reaching out to tilt your chin up gently.

“guess you’re a lucky girl,” he said, eyes glittering with mischief. “having those men fight over you.”

Your cheeks flushed instantly. “shut up, suguu..”

He leaned in, whispering near your ear, “just don’t tell me you ain't enjoying the attention, princess.”

Your blush deepened, eyes dropping to the floor. and inside, the yelling continued. but for now, you were tucked away in the calm, with Geto smiling at your flustered face, the storm behind you, and something hotter stirring in front of you.

***

The balcony had been a bubble of peace, but only for a moment. you startled when Geto suddenly crushed his cigarette under his heel, turned to you, and said with a smirk, “alright. let’s go see the kids fight.”

“no... I’m not going back in there,” you protested, stepping back. “no way.”

But before you could escape, he grabbed your waist and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of rice. “Suguru!” you squealed, pounding his back lightly. “put me down!”

“shhh, you’ll thank me later,” he hummed as he walked you right into the chaos.

The moment the two of you stepped into the living room, the tension hit you like a slap. Gojo and Toji were still going at it, faces red, voices raised.

“yo, what’s happening here, huh?” Geto called out as if it was a scene he’d already seen before. he flopped onto the couch with a heavy bounce, pulling you onto his lap. one arm wrapped lazily around your waist, the other resting on the backrest like he was watching a drama.

Gojo immediately pointed fingers. “Toji’s losing his shit ‘cause I took her to dinner and bought some gifts. apparently, that’s illegal now.”

Toji scoffed. “you didn’t just took her to dinner. you think you’re her damn husband. acting like y'all are in a cringy romcom—”

“sorry I’m affectionate,” Gojo said, rolling his eyes. “you wouldn’t know what that looks like.”

“oh, fuck off,” Toji spat. “you’re obsessive. clinging to her like a fucking koala. the second she breathes, you're there.”

“she lovessss it,” Gojo shot back.

“she doesn’t get the chance to not to, brat! you’re on her like your dick’s gonna fall off if you wait an hour.”

Geto chuckled beneath you. “he’s not wrong.”

You groaned softly, face burning as you curled a little deeper into his chest, wishing they’d all just forget you were physically there.

“you were humping her on the bean bag last night, Toji,” Gojo grinned. “didn’t seem like a man worried about boundaries then.”

Toji’s face darkened. “don’t act like you’re the white knight. fuckin' desperate.”

Geto raised his eyebrows, finally cutting in. “okay, okay, enough. look, Toji… Satoru is right this time.”

Toji turned his glare on Geto. “of course you’d say that. your boyfriend's always right. yeah?”

“no, really,” Geto said, calm as ever, hand still stroking your thigh possessively. “he treated her well. gave her a breather. for once, he wasn’t thinking with his dick. that’s growth.”

Toji clenched his jaw. “so I’m the bad guy now? the cunt who only uses her to fuck, huh? that’s the story now?”

“no one said—” Gojo started.

“I know what you fuckers think,” Toji snapped, eyes burning into the wall like he couldn’t even look at any of you. “that I’m just the dick she rides when she’s needy. that I don’t give a single fuck.” he was breathing harder now, like the fire in his chest had nowhere to go.

“don’t fuckin’ twist this shit on me,” he hissed, voice low and cracked. “you think throwin’ money at her means you love her more? think parading her around like a damn trophy makes you some kinda saint?”

“dude,” Gojo said, half-laughing. “relax. you’re making it sound like you care.”

Toji’s fists clenched. “cause I fuckin' do.”

You looked up from Geto’s lap, startled by how raw Toji’s voice suddenly sounded. It wasn’t his usual tone, it came out hoarse, angry, real.

“I care way too fuckin’ much that I can’t breathe.” he spits, jaw tight. “and every time I try to show it, you assholes turn it into some pissing contest.” he scoffs, sharp, irritated. “I ain’t rich. ain’t sweet. doesn’t say pretty shit in her ear.” a beat, short and tense. “I fuck up. a lot. but I don’t just use her. so don’t fuckin' say that shit again.”

The room went mute. then he turned around and stormed off, slamming his door so hard the frame rattled. Geto exhaled, eyes still on the hallway. “there he goes.” you sat quietly on his lap, chest tight and heart racing.

Gojo muttered, dragging a hand down his face, “I didn’t mean to…”

“doesn’t matter anymore,” geto snorted, pulling you in close against him.

***

Toji didn’t talk to anyone the following day.

Not you. not the others. not even Geto when he casually asked if Toji was gonna pass the soy sauce at lunch.

You’d caught glimpses of him, quiet and brooding, barely making eye contact. no usual teasing, no crude comments under his breath, not even a grunt when you brushed past him in the hallway. you thought maybe he’d simmer down by morning. he always did, eventually.

But the next day came, and you came for breakfast in a soft, flowy sundress, light pink and off shoulder, clinging just right. one of Gojo’s picks, of course, from his shopping spree earlier in the week. you even had on that glossy lip oil Toji loves so fuckin’ much. the one that drives him oh so crazy, he made sure it was all his by sucking on your lips like a greedy bastard every single time you wore it.

Still, nothing. he looked up when you entered the kitchen, barely a glance. just long enough to flick over your lips and then go back to his coffee like you weren’t even there. It wasn’t cold, not exactly. It was worse, it was nothing.

“good morning, toji...” you offered softly.

“morning,” he replied flatly, not even sparing a second look.

Nanami blinked. “huhhh.” he took a sip of his coffee, eyeing Toji’s disinterest. “did Toji hit his head or something?”

You paused in the middle of reaching for a mug. Geto snorted behind his phone.

“usually,” Nanami continued, arms folded, “if he saw her in that dress, he would’ve already lost his goddamn mind by now.”

Your face burned. “Nanami!”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.”

Toji didn’t even look up, just picked up his thermos and keys and grumbled, “maybe I finally grew a fuckin' brain.”

Nanami raised a brow. “unlikely.”

Toji paused at the door, glanced over at you for the briefest second, then muttered, “tell your sugar daddies to buy you a thicker dress next time,” and walked out without another word, slamming the door behind him.

There was a pause before Geto chuckled behind his mug. “god. he’s so dramatic.”

Nanami looked at you. “what the hell happened?”

You just stared at the door Toji had disappeared through, heart sinking. “something stupid,” you mumbled.

***

Night settled in slow and quiet, the last traces of light fading out, leaving everything dim and still, everything except the tension sitting thick in the room.

You were curled up on the couch with Gojo, his arm draped lazily around your shoulder, your legs tossed over his lap. he was in one of his overly-affectionate moods, playing with your fingers, brushing kisses to your temple every few minutes, calling you his “little sunshine” like he didn’t cause half the storms in the house.

And of course, Toji had to walk in right then. the door creaked open and Toji stepped inside, his shoulders tense and jaw tight. he saw you in Gojo’s arms and for a split second, something in him flinched. but he just kicked off his shoes, ran a hand through his hair, and kept walking in without a word.

Gojo smirked. big mistake.

“oh look who decided to grace us with his presence,” he called out lazily, nuzzling into your neck while keeping his smug eyes on Toji. “you missed dinner, babe. hope that attitude fed you just fine.”

Toji didn’t even look at him, just walked past. but Gojo wasn’t done. “you know,” he continued, lips brushing the shell of your ear just to make it worse, “it’s cute when he tries to act all ice-cold like he doesn’t want to bend you over the second he sees you.”

You shot him a look—clear enough, don’t make this worse—your grip tightening in his t-shirt as you leaned in slightly. “satoru… just shut up for now.”

Toji’s steps stalled at his comment and gojo, like nothing had just been said, leaned in and pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, grinning, your warning flying straight over his head.

“and honestly, I’m impressed. a full day without barking at me for touching you? what’s next, celibacy?”

That did it. Toji turned fast as he stormed over in three heavy steps and yanked Gojo up by the shoulder so hard it pulled you upright with him.

“wanna fuckin' die?” Toji growled, voice low and dangerous, so close Gojo could smell the cigarette on his breath.

Gojo raised both palms, chuckling nervously. “whoa—easy, old man. joking. joking.”

“you joke again and I’ll have your damn tongue in my fist.”

“okay okay, chill,” Gojo huffed, brushing his shirt where Toji had grabbed him. “damn, someone needs a nap… or a blowjob.”

“Toji,” you said softly, reaching out from the couch.

He didn’t respond. just shook his head and turned on his heel. he went straight to the balcony, pulled a cigarette from his back pocket, and lit it with a flick of his lighter, the glow of it barely visible in the dark.

Gojo flopped back down beside you with a sigh, arm wrapping around you again like nothing had happened. “yeesh,” he mumbled, “he’s been such a diva lately.”

You didn’t answer. you were staring at the balcony door, heart pulled somewhere between guilt and longing. Toji stood out there, smoking in silence, the tip of his cigarette flaring every now and then, shoulders stiff and his jaw locked, like he was trying to keep something inside.

Something that looked a lot like heartbreak. and a lot like love.

to be continued in the next chapter

comment down to get tagged in upcoming chapters.

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more ?

pairing : jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : explicit sexual content, oral sex and dry humping, dirty talk, teasing, emotional vulnerability, intense intimacy, possessiveness, sexual tension, light voyeurism, Gojo suffering, mature readers only, 18+, mdni.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 13

Rest of the day was pure torment for Satoru.

Toji was on a fucking mission, a one-man warzone and Gojo was the designated casualty. he didn’t even wait for the living room to clear. he had his arm around your shoulder as you stood in the hallway, laughing at something stupid Geto had just said, watching as he sketched on the wall, quick and fluid strokes forming two betta fish circling each other, one inked dark, the other left pale, their fins flaring like they couldn’t decide whether to fight or dance.

And then Toji dropped his hand. right on your ass. a firm squeeze. bold enough. Gojo, walking past, definitely saw. Toji didn’t even flinch. “how the hell you expect me to keep it in my pants when it's sittin' there like that?”

You gasped, face flushed as you smacked his arm but your laugh betrayed you. Gojo nearly tripped on his own feet.

“oh no,” he muttered. “he’s just saying things now. that was… unholy. that was straight-up vulgar. and she’s blushing.”

“you say worse…” Suguru murmured, barely looking back, his hand steady as he added the delicate sweep of the fish’s tail.

Toji leaned closer to you with a wolfish grin, his voice low, just loud enough for Satoru to catch as he lingered behind you both. “bet if I reached down right now, you’d be soaking through those little shorts. that true, doll?”

You turned redder, eyes darting to Gojo, who looked like he’d been shot. he clenched his jaw, trying to keep it together. “nope. not happening. I’m not reacting. I’m fine. I’m—”

Then Geto drifted back in once he was done, rubbing his ink-stained fingers against his apron as he circled you slowly, lips quirking.

“Is it flirting time already?” he asked, eyes dragging up and down your body. “damn. If I knew you’d wear this top today, I’d have skipped all my appointments.”

You crossed your arms, trying to act unbothered but the fabric pulled tighter, and the way his eyes lingered made it obvious that didn’t help at all.

“stop staring,” you muttered, though there was no real bite behind it.

“can’t,” Geto shrugged, stepping closer, fingers brushing down your shoulder like it was second nature. “look at her.” he glanced at Toji with a faint smirk. “she’s got those ‘fuck me in the laundry room’ eyes today.”

Gojo wheezed audibly in the corner. Toji chuckled darkly. “I call dibs if she ever drops a sock. that’s the rule.”

“she dropped one earlier,” Geto replied casually, stepping closer again.

“DID SHE?” Toji’s head snapped up, hand finding your waist in an instant, pulling you back against him like he’d been waiting for an excuse.

You smacked his chest and tried to wriggle away, giggling, breathy. “stop you guys... sooo mean.”

But Gojo didn’t hear the teasing in your tone. he only saw the color in your cheeks, the way you bit your lip when Geto leaned close again, whispering something that made your eyes widen and knees almost buckle.

Geto’s eyes flicked to Gojo. “you okay over there, Satoru?”

“I’m gonna kill both of you,” Gojo said, deadpan.

Toji didn’t miss a beat. “jealousy looks real good on you. you should wear it more often.”

Gojo stepped forward. “you don’t get it. you’re making her blush. that’s my thing. I make her blush. I make her all dumb and shy and squirmy. not you. me.”

“oh?” Geto smiled lazily. “she looked pretty dumb and squirmy this morning when I had her on the kitchen counter.”

“SU-GU-RU,” Gojo choked, his soul leaving his body.

Toji leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the meltdown with a smirk. “she made the cutest little whines when I slapped her ass earlier. didn’t even go hard. bet if I do it again, she’d make a mess in her shorts.”

“STOP,” Gojo shouted, throwing a pillow at him that missed entirely.

You were hiding your face by now, burning hot, laughing helplessly, caught in the middle of the most erotic turf war imaginable.

Geto raised an eyebrow. “come on, Satoru. you asked for this.”

“no. no, I didn't ask for this. but still got a full-blown public fuck-off with commentary.”

“awww,” Toji said mockingly, “he’s hurt.”

“I’M FINE,” Gojo shouted again, storming off.

Except he didn’t go to his room. he turned sharply and headed straight into your room, slamming the door behind him with the dramatic flair of a man on the verge of an emotional breakdown. he stood there for a second, heaving. eyes scanning your room like he expected to be tackled by your scent itself. and then he collapsed, face-first onto your bed. he groaned, muffled in your pillow.

“god, I’m such a loser. I just wanted to smell her sheets. that’s it. that’s how low I’ve sunk.” he rolled over dramatically, arms spread out in a crucifixion pose. “this is my punishment.”

He pressed his cheek to the pillow, closed his eyes, and sighed longingly. “mmm… yup. smells like her shampoo. and her lotion.” he groaned again, slapping a hand over his face. “can't do this for a week. It's gonna kill me.”

Outside the door, Geto and Toji high-fived.

***

Gojo's misery only continued.

Evening. you were in the living room again, in one of those tiny shorts that seemed designed just to test Satoru’s willpower. the pink top he bought you hung off your shoulder, exposing the delicate skin of your collarbone. the moment Gojo walked in, soaking in your appearance, Toji was already there.

Toji noticed him and leaned back on the couch, one leg up, one hand tossing a stress ball lazily, while his eyes were locked on you. "y’know," he drawled, voice deliberately loud, "whoever made those shorts needs a raise. they frame her ass so well it’s almost art."

You turned bright red, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. Gojo clenched his jaw so hard it clicked, but he said nothing. he wasn’t allowed to. Geto entered next with a teasing smirk already curling at his lips. he took his seat beside you, letting one hand rest near your bare thigh, close but not touching yet.

"Toji’s right," Geto chimed in smoothly, eyes dragging up your figure. "though the way that top keeps slipping? It's just begging to be tugged down a little. don’t you think, Satoru?"

Gojo groaned under his breath, flopping face-first into the other couch with a whimper. "I’m gonna die. this is how I die."

Nanami sat nearby, quietly sipping his tea. while he didn’t play the games of the other two, he didn’t stop them either. occasionally, his eyes would drift to you, soft and respectful, but there was something heated in the way he looked at you, lingering a second too long, watching the way you laughed, the way you shifted and squirmed between them, like he was enjoying every second of it more than he'd admit.

Meanwhile, toji had turned toward you, one arm braced lazily against the back of the couch, his gaze dropping slow and deliberate down the front of you.

“you ever notice that?” he muttered loud enough. “the way her chest rises when she breathes… so fuckin’ dramatic.” a low huff of a laugh followed. “pretty, too. like it’s meant to be looked at.” his eyes flicked up, sharp, catching Gojo. “you watchin’, kid? this your favorite, isn’t it?”

That had him staring straight at your tits, the way the fabric stretched so tight over them, looking so fucking pretty in that little top that was definitely not made to contain them. he’d bought you that top so he could rip it off you… not sit there helplessly watching while the others groped you. Gojo let out a strangled noise. “y'all are evil.”

"are we now?," Geto added helpfully, now tracing idle circles near your knee. "we're just doing what you can’t." Gojo practically exploded. "you want me dead. that’s what this is. y'all want me dead before the week ends."

Toji smirked. "no, pretty boy. we want you humbled," he said while his hands slid up your torso, fingers finding one of your nipples over the top and pinching it hard, twisting just enough to make your back arch. a soft, filthy little moan slipped out of you, breathy and desperate, so fucking lewd it had Gojo wondering if you were deliberately trying to make him lose his goddamn mind too. he staggered up from the couch, muttering, "bathroom. again. thanks a lot. all of you."

***

One test after another, the day dragged on. Gojo, who was normally the sovereign of teasing, found himself on the receiving end for the very first time. and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. that night, gojo came back to the living room after spending a hell lot of time in your bed. buried in your sheets, breathing you in, hugging your plushies and talking to them like he'd lost it a little. you were curled on the couch as usual, dozing, legs bare and cheek squished into a pillow. he walked over quietly, dropping down until his knees hit the floor by you.

“bunny…” his voice was soft, almost hesitant. “baby… look at me… please?”

You turned your head, shifting to sit up, brows pulling together as you looked at him. “hmm?”

“can I hug you… baby? just once?” his voice cracked a little, like even asking cost him something.

You frowned, confused at how… small he sounded. “of course, toru… why would you even as—”

He didn’t let you finish. his arms were around you in the next second, pulling you in, face buried deep into your neck as he breathed you in. “bunny… my love……”

You let out a soft chuckle, fingers slipping into his hair, gently running through it, “what's gotten into you…”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, those same puppy eyes he always used when he wanted something, only this time, there was something heavier behind them. “I’m gonna kiss you—”

He didn’t even finish before leaning in and did just that. It was soft at first. gentle. feather-light. then it grew desperate and breathless. a kiss that said: I love you. I want you. I’m dying without you.

Toji, who’d been watching the whole thing for a while now, didn’t look too impressed with the little romantic scene playing out in front of him… and being the jealous prick that he was, he finally cut in. "hands off, lover boy."

Gojo, still kissing you, mumbled against your lips, "I'm just kissing. literally. shut up."

Nanami sighed. "he’s adapting."

Geto just chuckled. "this week’s gonna be entertaining."

Gojo pulled back finally, breathing hard. his lips were red, his eyes glossy. he looked around at all of them. "I’m miserable. my wrists hurt. I’ve jerked off like six times today. you win. just—let me kiss her. that’s all I have. that’s all I need."

Day three was almost complete. day four loomed and Gojo knew… it would only get worse.

***

Later that same night. It had fallen quiet. the apartment was dark, blanketed in heavy silence after dinner. everyone had retreated to their rooms, the chaos of the day fading into muffled movements and the humming of the AC. you had gone to bed too. you’d barely gotten a solid hour of sleep when something stirred.

A rustling. then a weight shifting your mattress. your eyes opened slowly, confusion settling in before the silhouette beside you became familiar, the unmistakable outline of tousled white hair, glinting faintly in the moonlight.

“Satoru…?” you whispered.

He didn’t respond right away. just looked at you, big blue eyes shimmering like glass. his face was soft, vulnerable in the dark. he was shirtless, sweats low on his hips, and he looked so exhausted, not just physically, but emotionally wrecked.

You blinked, still groggy. “why are you—?”

“didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, voice already trembling. “I tried to just lie beside you. swear. but…” he bit his lip hard, eyes dropping. “It’s been three fucking days,” he said, barely above a whisper. “three days of watching them play with you. three days of sitting back and pretending I’m okay, when I’m not. I’m not okay.”

You blinked at him, unsure what to say.

“my dick hurts, baby,” he said pitifully, flopping onto his side to face you fully. “like, genuinely. jerked off so many times I think I’ve given myself carpal tunnel. my hands ache, and my balls feel like ticking bombs. can’t keep going like this.”

He paused, then groaned. “and it’s not just that. It’s them. the way they’re so casual. so cocky. just putting their hands on you like they don’t care who’s watching. like it doesn’t ruin me every single time."

“what d’you mean, toru…?” you mumble, your hand sliding up to cup his face, thumb brushing over his cheek without even thinking.

He melts into it immediately, of course he does, leaning into your touch like he’s been waiting for it, his hand coming up to cover yours, holding it there as he presses a slow, lingering kiss to your wrist. his lips linger, and when he pulls back, he’s already pouting.

“don’t act dumb, bunny…” he murmurs, voice soft but a little bitter around the edges. “you know what they’ve been doing to you these days…”

“I don’t know… you tell me,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“bunnyy, c’mon…” he whines softly, shaking his head. his grip tightens a little as he leans closer, voice dropping. “you giggle way too much when toji says some filthy shit… and suguru—” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “that damn bastard— was practically eye-fucking you every chance he gets." he huffs, clearly getting worked up now. “and nanami… god, don’t even get me started.”

You bite back a grin, watching him go on and on, all wound up over it.

“I’m losing it,” he said. “haven’t slept good. haven’t even looked at you without getting hard in seconds. and when I close my eyes, it’s you. always you.”

Your breath hitched slightly, lips parting. he shifted closer, laying his forehead against yours, his voice shaking. “please.… can I touch you? just your tits. just a little. won’t ask more. swear. I just—if I don’t get something, m'gonna die. gonna melt into your bedsheets and die with a boner.”

You looked at him for a long moment. the desperation on his face was almost painful and maddeningly hot. he was so pretty… so pathetically pretty. staring into his eyes felt like slipping under something you couldn’t fight, like you were caught in it, stuck, no way out. It made your head spin, that dizzy pull that had you giving in before you could even think it through, ready to agree to whatever filth he demanded of you.

You swallowed hard, throat tight, and nodded slowly. “just a little, okay?” you whispered.

He moved instantly, hand sliding under your shirt like he’d been starving for it. no teasing. no buildup. his palm cupped your bare tits and his whole body shuddered.

“fuck…” he moaned softly, his thumb brushing over your nipple making them hard. “they feel even better than I remember.”

“Satoru—” you whined, voice breathy, as he leaned down with his mouth open and brushing hot over the top of your chest.

“missed these,” he murmured. “missed you.” he pushed your shirt higher, mouth descending without warning. lips closing around one nipple, sucking greedily, and his hips gave a little involuntary thrust into the mattress beside you. you gasped again, heat spiraling down your spine. Gojo groaned, sloppy, unfiltered. “you don’t know what this is doing to me. you’re letting me. think I’m gonna cry.”

In the middle of the heat, you almost let out a breathy chuckle—this damn boy… how the hell can he be so sweet, so stupidly cute, when he’s got your whole tit in his mouth like that??

He nuzzled into your chest like he’d finally found water in a desert, his hands pressing your tits together as he buried his face between them, kissing, licking, mouthing your skin with open hunger.

“you’re so soft,” he panted. “so warm. so mine. fuck, they don’t deserve to touch you like this. they don’t worship you. not like I do.” his words made your thighs press together involuntarily. he caught that. groaned again. “you’re turned on,” he whispered, eyes wide with wonder. “you’re actually wet, aren’t you?”

"umm noo..." you tried to deny, shaking your head, hiding your face, embarrassed. but he wasn’t having it. he dragged his tongue over your nipple again, sloppier this time, lips hot and desperate.

“can I come here every night?” he asked, eyes wild, like a man who’d seen God. “only this. just—just let me touch your tits. It’ll keep me sane. promise. just a little taste to survive another day.”

He sucked your nipple into his mouth again, louder now, his hand groping the other breast with more force, pressing your body closer, like he could crawl inside you through this. your head tipped back, fingers tangling in his hair, chest rising and falling in sync with his needy breaths.

He broke away only to murmur, “gonna come in my pants if I ain't careful. not even touching myself. I’m that far gone.”

You breathe softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head, like that was the line, like something in him snapped into place, realizing if he didn’t let you go now, he wouldn’t at all. and Gojo, sweet and broken pressed one last kiss between your breasts and whispered, “thank you. for saving me. I can make it to tomorrow now.” then, reluctantly, he pulled back and curled around your body like he belonged there, like he always had.

***

Next night. night 4 of ban.

You weren’t even surprised when you felt the dip of your mattress again that night. you stirred slightly, bleary eyed, as his arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his face pressing into your neck with a long, deep sigh. his breath trembled as he held you close, and you could feel something twitching against your lower back already.

“toru…?”

“you were too pretty today,” he whispered against your skin. “too fucking pretty. was dying watching you laugh with Sugu in the kitchen. swear I felt my soul leave my body.”

You giggled faintly, still half asleep, and that little sound made him groan like he was in pain. his hand slid under your shirt like muscle memory, finding your chest with ease, squeezing greedily.

“you’re always soft,” he murmured. “always warm. smell like heaven, sound like sin, and I wanna cry just being near you.”

You hummed under your breath, expecting him to just go for your chest again. but tonight, he didn’t stop there. his hand trailed lower, resting on your stomach, then dipping slightly toward your waistband before hesitating. he nuzzled your shoulder like a puppy begging for scraps.

“I know I said I’d behave,” he whispered. “but… can’t.” he pulled away just enough to look at you, and god—those eyes. glossy, wide, shimmering with desperation. he looked like he might cry if you said no.

“need more,” he whispered. “just a little. promise I won’t be greedy—just… need your mouth. please. just that. you don’t even have to move much. I’ll do all the work.”

You blinked, not quiet believing him. “you sure?”

He kissed your shoulder again, murmuring, “yes, please. let me fuck your mouth a little. I’ll go slow. I’ll be sweet. I’ll beg. please, I’m so fucked up over you.”

You couldn’t help the heat pooling between your thighs from the way he said it, like he was one second away from getting on his knees. and the worst part was that you liked it. no, you loved it. loved the way he unraveled only for you. loved how he dropped the cocky front and turned into a trembling, pleading mess with your name in his mouth. you looked at him, face warm, pulse racing. “okay,” you whispered.

He froze. then he let out a strangled, “oh my god, thank you.” he sat up immediately, eyes wide like a kid on christmas. you giggled, already tugging the blankets back, and he positioned himself eagerly, kneeling, already pushing his sweats down.

His cock sprang free, flushed and twitching, so hard it curved toward his stomach with a bead of precum glistening at the tip. he groaned, fisting the base with a shaky hand. “see what you do to me?”

You settled between his knees, your hands resting gently on his thighs, and looked up at him through your lashes, as you nod. "mhmm."

That look. Gojo damn near collapsed.

“fuck, I’m gonna die,” he whined. “baby, if you look at me like that, I’m gonna lose it. for real. don’t blame me if I cry. or scream. or—fuck, come in thirty seconds.”

You leaned forward slowly, your lips brushing against the tip, tongue flicking out just enough to taste him.

He gasped. “shit. shit—okay—okay—fuck—thank you. thank you, you’re a goddess, a saint, the love of my life—ah, fuck.”

You wrapped your lips around the head and sucked gently, and Gojo moaned. full-on, head-tilted-back, breathless moan. his hands hovered near your hair, shaking slightly. but he didn’t grab you, not yet, too overwhelmed.

“so warm,” he whimpered. “so fucking soft, baby, this is better than heaven.”

You took more of him, slow, gentle at first, watching the way his eyes rolled back. he bit his lip, hips twitching slightly. “can I—can I move a little?” he panted. “please. I’ll be good, promise, wanna feel you deeper.”

You nodded, mouth full of him and that’s all he needed. he rocked his hips slowly, sliding his cock deeper into your mouth with every soft, wet glide of your lips. his moans were high, desperate, and he was already panting like a dog. you hollowed your cheeks and sucked harder, letting your tongue tease the underside.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—don't do that,” he groaned. “you’re not real. you can’t be real. letting me do all this—why are you so perfect?”

He thrust slightly faster now, never rough, but definitely needier. your hands gripped his hips, grounding him as his cock slid past your lips again and again, slick with spit, aching with need. his voice cracked. “like this, bunny? like having me so fucking weak I can’t think straight?”

You moaned softly around him, and that broke him. he gasped, thrusting a little deeper, his hands finally tangling in your hair. “baby, fuck... gonna come.. shit, gonna come, where—?”

You looked up at him, teary-eyed, cheeks flushed, and that was it. white-hot ropes spilled into your mouth as he choked on a sob, hips jerking against your lips as he came hard, hands trembling, body shaking like he was unraveling from the inside out.

“fuckfuckfuck, I love you,” he gasped without thinking. you swallowed, licking your lips, and Gojo collapsed forward like all the bones had left his body. he kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your neck, rambling between breaths.

“you’re everything. you’re perfect. m'gonna buy you a car. a house. a castle—anything. I owe you my life.”

You smiled, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as he cradled you against his chest like you’d just saved him from death. and in a way, maybe you had.

***

Night 5 – 12:39 a.m.

You knew it before you even opened your eyes. the scent of his cologne, faint but familiar, mixed with the warmth of his body curling up behind you. he was becoming way too comfortable in your bed.

“Satoru,” you mumbled sleepily, barely coherent. “again?”

“Shhh,” he whispered, pressing his face into your hair. “just pretend I’m a dream.”

There was no winning with him. his promises meant nothing, clearly… he proved that every time he showed up uninvited to your room, night after night. not that you minded… but maybe you could tease him a little for it. you groaned, turning around to face him, a small pout tugging at your lips. "should I tell them... toru?"

“come on bunny, fuck 'em,” he shot back instantly, sulking into your neck. “they’re jealous. they’re evil. they don’t know what it’s like to be this horny for five days straight and still not be allowed to touch the prettiest girl in the world.”

He sighed dramatically, continuing. “they’re trying to kill me. I almost cried in the shower this morning.”

You blinked up at him. his hair was messy, lips all pouty and those pale cheeks looking flushed.

“I’ve been good,” he whispered, dragging a hand up under your shirt, fingers teasing your ribs. “didn’t kiss you in the kitchen even when you looked so pretty. didn’t bend you over the couch when you were picking up the remote. I behaved. but tonight…” he slid his thigh between yours slowly, nudging your legs apart. “…I need more.”

You just stared at him, half-lidded and still a little out of it, listening to him ramble through the same old stories he told every damn night, words blurring together in your foggy head.

“and by more,” he said, nose brushing your jaw, “I mean… can I touch you down there? over your panties. won’t take them off. wanna touch her. just enough so I don’t cry myself to sleep again.”

You blinked again, shaking your head slightly at how ridiculous his demands were getting with each passing day. “toru.... didn’t you say, like two nights ago, that you just wanted to squeeze my tits and leave?”

“I meant it that night. that night was about your tits,” he said solemnly. “tonight’s about survival. swear on my cock.”

You snorted at that. he cupped your cheek, making you face him fully. “please. let me hump you. I’ll keep it sweet. promise. won't even take off my boxers. please, baby.”

His hand trailed down as he speak, brushing over your clothed mound with reverent gentleness. “fuck,” he muttered. he pressed his forehead to yours, voice breathless. “say yes. I’ll be good. I’ll hump like a gentleman. you won’t even notice me—okay, that’s a lie, but you’ll like it. you always like it.”

You paused for a moment, breath catching as his fingers ghosted over the soaked fabric between your thighs. he was warm. too warm. and right fuckin' there.

“…okay, just a little toru,” you whispered.

He lit up. “oh, thank fuck—you’re an angel,” he breathed, already tugging the blankets off and settling between your legs. he kissed your inner thigh through your shorts, then up higher, groaning when he saw the damp patch you didn’t even realize had formed.

“you’re wet already,” he whispered, voice pure awe. “did you miss me too?”

You blinked your eyes, cheeks flushing. “shut—shut up and j—just do it.”

“say less.” he rocked forward, pressing his bulge against your covered pussy, but the pressure was obscene. you could feel the heat of him, the sheer throb of how desperate he was.

“shit,” he whined, rubbing against you slowly. “even with this stupid shorts in the way—you feel so good. so fucking warm. this is heaven. you’re heaven.”

He humped you, grinding his bulge against your slit, and you could feel every twitch and jerk of his body. his hips rolled with practiced ease, chasing friction, panting into your neck.

“touch me,” he whispered. “put your hands on me. pull me in. let me hump you—‘cause if I slide inside for real I’ll come in one second.”

You grabbed his hips like he asked, helping him grind harder. his head dropped to your shoulder, moaning softly, humping faster now.

“baby, I love you. m'so down bad. so fucking weak for you.”

You arched your hips into him, and his entire body shuddered. “satoru…”

“can I take them off?” he gasped. “swear I won’t put it in. just gonna hump you like this. need to feel you—please. pleasepleaseplease—I’ll beg all night if I have to.”

You bit your lip, already trembling, then nodded. he groaned, grabbing your shorts and sliding them off with the panties in one motion, tossing them somewhere behind him. then his boxers. then he was back on top of you, now naked, cock slick and flushed, grinding against your bare cunt with a broken sound.

“oh. my. god.”

His hips jerked, cock sliding along your folds, nudging your clit with each thrust. his drooling tip occasionally gets caught in your hole *unintentionally*. your slick coated him quickly, making it messier, filthier.

“this isn’t.... what you promised,” you gasped.

“I lied,” he whimpered. “I lied, okay? I'm sorry.”

He humped you harder now, rutting like an animal, panting against your lips, cock dragging across your soaked slit again and again with enough pressure to make your thighs shake.

“you feel so good,” he gasped. “so fucking wet I could slide in right now and you’d let me, yeah?”

You whimpered, squirming under his filthy words, your brows pulling together as you looked at him—“but you said…”

“don’t say anything,” he whispered. “don’t tempt me. I’m one push away from losing every bit of self-control I have left.” his hand slipped between your bodies, thumb finding your clit as he kept grinding against you.

“lemme make you come first,” he panted. “you’re always good to me. lemme be good for you. come on my cock, baby. want you to come with me. let’s make a mess.”

You felt it building fast, his cock sliding between your folds, the pressure, the speed, the sweet filth falling from his mouth.

“come with me,” he begged, voice cracking. “come on me, come on me, come on me—fuck—”

You cried out, thighs clamping around him as your orgasm hit, and Gojo shouted, jerking against you as he came all over your cunt—hot, messy spurts painting your folds, your thighs, mixing with your slick. he collapsed against you, gasping, body trembling and satisfied. neither of you moved.

“It's killing me,” he mumbled into your neck. “If I survive this, I’m marrying you. I don’t care what Nanami says.” he said, burying his face in your neck again, panting like he’d just survived war.

Gojo pulled back slightly, his breath still heavy as he pressed his forehead against yours. his voice dropped to a husky whisper, full of raw desperation and fear. “bunny, look at me, yeah? please don’t tell them about this. they’d kill me.”

You could hear the genuine panic behind his words, the vulnerability beneath his cocky facade. slowly, he shifted, pulling a tissue, from the side table and gently began cleaning the mess he’d left on you, his fingers soft and careful. once he was done, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“I’ll be back in my room before anyone wakes up,” he promised, slipping out just as quietly as he came, leaving you flushed and breathless in the dark.

You laid there, staring up at the ceiling, chest still rising a little too fast… already knowing damn well you’d end up in the exact same mess again tomorrow night.

to be continued in the next chapter

comment down to get tagged in upcoming chapters

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more?

pairing : jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : explicit sexual content, multiple partners, oral sex, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, sexual frustration, grinding, non-pen sex, teasing, masturbation, jealousy, possessiveness, mature language, Gojo suffering, mdni, 18+.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 12

Morning started like hell for Satoru.

He was sprawled on his stomach in bed, face buried in a pillow, hips grinding down pathetically as he groaned into the mattress.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—this is torture,” he hissed, cock throbbing uselessly beneath him, and his own hand twitched where it had gone numb from trying to jerk off but failing miserably since midnight. but that wasn’t the worst part. It was remembering he couldn’t even touch you today. or tomorrow. or for six more whole days. he groaned louder. “I’m gonna die.”

By the time he finally got out of bed, he looked exhausted. bags under his eyes, hair a mess, and only wearing a loose tee and boxers. nd then he saw you.

You were in the kitchen, humming, your back to him, wearing that tiny little pair of sleep shorts and that top that has him losing it every time. your ass jiggled when you reached for something on the top shelf, and when you bent over to grab a dropped spoon, Gojo actually whimpered.

He clasped his hands behind his back and paced away like he’d seen a demon. “nope. nope, no. I’m a good boy. I’m a good boy now. not gonna spread her open over the fucking counter like I’m dying. I’m fine.”

But then Toji strolled into the kitchen, yawning, in just gray sweatpants, no shirt in sight, muscles on full display. He smirked when he caught Gojo’s clenched jaw. “morning, lover boy.”

“Fuck off,” Satoru mumbled.

Toji leaned against the counter, way too close to you. “you sleep okay, princess?” he asked, brushing your hair back from your face.

Gojo’s eye twitched.

You smiled shyly. “yeah, you?”

“Better now.” and then Toji reached around you to grab the coffee pot pressing his front flush to your back in the process.

It was slow. deliberate. and from Gojo’s angle, he could see just how low Toji’s hand slid across your hip as he did it.

Gojo took a deep breath and muttered, “I’m not gonna kill him. I’m not gonna kill him.”

Toji turned his head, looked Gojo dead in the eye, and smirked wider. “wish that was you, huh?”

Satoru snapped. “I’m going to my room.”

He slammed the door, plopped down on his bed rethinking his life decisions.

***

Mid-afternoon.

Nanami entered the living room like he always did, composed, elegant, unreadable. He wasn’t flashy like Geto, wasn’t a loudmouth like Gojo. But when it came to you? He had a way of taking his time. Of knowing exactly where to touch to get you to melt without ever raising his voice.

You were curled up on the couch, legs tucked under you, in your soft tank that was barely keeping your tits in check. You had no bra on. Not with Nanami in the house. You liked how he looked at them. Especially when he didn’t say anything. Just stared quietly, intense, starving.

“Cold?” Nanami asked, holding a soft throw blanket.

You nodded absently. “a little.”

He sat next to you. Laid the blanket over your lap. Passed you a warm mug of tea, his hand lingering a beat longer than necessary as your fingers brushed.

Satoru was at the dining table, screen open but eyes locked. Watching. Grinding his teeth. He already hated the way Nanami’s thigh was brushing yours.

But then Nanami moved his hand under the blanket, fingertips dragging along your bare thigh. Your breath hitched just slightly, the mug wobbling in your hand. You said nothing. Neither did he. Gojo leaned forward, eyes sharp, like a predator spotting another alpha. Then Nanami leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear.

“May I?” he murmured, voice low and smooth like honey.

You nodded, biting your bottom lip. Gojo nearly snapped his phone in half. Nanami’s hand slid up smooth and deliberate, trailing along your stomach, fingers spreading, stroking over your ribs. Then under your top.

Satoru’s heart stopped.

Your tank top lifted slightly, exposing the lower curve of your breast. Nanami’s hand closed around it, warm and firm, his palm pressing fully against you. He gave it a deliberate squeeze, thumb brushing softly over your nipple, rolling it, making your breath tremble and your thighs shift.

“ah—Nanamin…”

He hummed at the sound, tilting his head to kiss your shoulder, your collarbone, edge of your jaw. And then he pulled your top down. One of your tits bounced free and Gojo gasped like he’d been stabbed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” he shouted.

Nanami ignored him. His mouth lowered to your exposed breast, tongue dragging a warm circle around your nipple. He sucked softly, gently, with a low growl in his throat, lips gliding across your skin like he was worshiping every inch.

Your hand threaded through his golden hair. “mmm... nanamin....”

Gojo gripped the table edge so hard his knuckles turned white. Nanami kept going, flicking your nipple with his tongue, then sucking harder, rolling the other between his fingers. Your chest rose and fell rapidly under the pleasure.

“How's it, love,” Nanami murmured.

“S'good… love it,” you whispered, eyes half-lidded.

That was it. Gojo stood up so fast his chair toppled over. “I can’t,” he barked. “I need—fuck—I need five minutes. Ten minutes!”

He stormed off toward the bathroom, his boner obvious, muttering curses as he slammed the door behind him. Inside, he jerked off with furious frustration, one hand braced against the mirror, the other pumping desperately.

“fuckin' Nanami and my bunny...her and—fuck—her tits—…”

***

Evening.

You were lounging in the couch lazily, enough to stir chaos in any man watching. Gojo was on the other couch, arms crossed, face sour, trying to “behave,” still under curfew.

Geto walked upto and dropped down near you, casually pulling you into his lap. His thighs parted, yours slotted between them, your back pressed to his bare chest.

“You feel warm, bunny,” Geto murmured into your ear, voice like velvet. “want me to help you cool down or heat you up more?”

You giggled, innocent as ever, but leaned into him. “stop teasing me, Suguru… you're so mean...”

“Mm. been thinking about you....,” he whispered, then pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

Gojo sat up straight. Geto didn’t even glance at him. His hand slid down your stomach, resting lightly on your lower belly. other wrapped around your waist. He tugged you tighter to him, hips aligning, and that’s when Gojo saw it.

Geto’s cock, already out, bare and hard. Nestled right between your asscheeks, twitching against those thin shorts.

“Suguru, don't do this to me....,” Gojo hissed.

Geto gave him a calm look over your shoulder, smirking. “she said she was cold, Satoru. just warming her up.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you arched slightly into him, feeling every inch of his thickness grinding between your cheeks. You didn't even have panties on. Barely a thin layer of fabric separating skin from skin.

“Suguru—mmph—feels good…” you breathed.

He started to move. slow, deliberate thrusts of his hips, cock rubbing between your cheeks, sliding against your clothed pussy from behind. not inside yet but the friction was obscene. curve of his shaft nudging your folds through the soaked fabric, head catching on your clit every time he rocked forward. His hands were everywhere. One on your chest, palming a tit, fingers teasing your nipple through the top. The other splayed over your inner thigh, keeping your legs open, guiding the pace. Slow and deep. Like he was fucking you in slow motion without even being inside.

Gojo made a strangled sound, his legs bouncing. “don’t—don’t you dare cum on her, you bastard,” he snapped.

Geto chuckled, lips brushing your ear. “she likes it when I make a mess. don’t you, princess?”

You whimpered softly, your hips starting to move with him, grinding back. The heat between you two was stifling. Your shorts were riding up, practically glued to your pussy now, every shift of Geto’s hips making your breath hitch. tip of his cock poked in just enough under the hem, slick and needy. next grind hit your clit so perfectly, you gasped.

“Suguru—ahh—please…”

“say what you want, baby.”

“need more… please move...”

He growled into your neck. “such a filthy girl.”

Gojo was gripping the couch cushion like he might tear it apart. “Suguru, stop. you’re making it worse!”

“worse?” Geto raised an eyebrow, still lazily humping against you. “she’s leaking. wanna see?”

And then with slow, cruel intent, he slipped his hand beneath your shorts. Pulled them aside. Let his cock press bare against your pussy lips, grinding between them with nothing left in the way. Your juices slicked him up instantly. Gojo moaned under his breath, folding forward.

“Want this, huh?” Geto said, thrusting harder now, making wet noises between your thighs. “wish you were the one rubbing your cock all over this sweet little cunt.”

You were gone, head thrown back, mouth open, eyes glassy. “f-fuck, Suguru—ah—!”

“That’s it, princess. use me like you please.”

Gojo stood up and stormed to the bathroom again, yelling something about “not surviving the week” and “the devil in a damn man bun.”

Geto just grinned and kissed your cheek. “he’s gonna go cry and cum again.”

***

Gojo didn’t come out of the bathroom for ten minutes. You were panting, half-melted against Geto’s chest, your soaked shorts clinging to your pussy like a second skin. Geto had one hand lazily stroking your thigh, murmuring little praises in your ear as he kissed the shell of it—“so good for me,” “you take it like a pro now,” “Satoru’s probably fucking his fist crying your name…”

You were too dizzy to argue. Too warm. Too needy still, even after all that. And then you felt it. A shadow overhead. A weight in the room shifted. Toji was leaning against the wall near the armchair, arms folded, looking straight at you with that signature deadpan stare—half-lust, half-challenge. His shirt was off, towel slung over his shoulder, sweat still drying on his chest from a workout. His eyes dropped to your spread legs. Your flushed, trembling thighs. The wet patch at the base of your shorts.

“Geto,” he said, voice low and firm. “move.”

Suguru gave a smirk but didn’t argue. He pressed one last kiss to your temple, murmured “you’ll love this,” and stood up, giving Toji space.

You blinked, dazed, as Toji stepped closer. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he crouched low on his knees between your legs, just like Gojo had knelt the day before, but different. Hungrier. Less apologetic.

He didn’t say a word. Toji just grabbed the hem of your shorts and yanked them down your legs in one smooth, practiced move. Your pussy was bare, glistening, your lips puffy and flushed from the way Geto used it. You were caught off guard and tried to close your legs, but his large hands caught your thighs and held them open, spreading you wide.

“Tch. can’t believe they’re making me wait my turn in this house,” Toji muttered. “Gojo's the one with the damn curfew, and I’m playing nice? bullshit.”

And then he dove in. Tongue flat, firm, and ruthless. He licked you from hole to clit in one long stroke, groaning into your cunt like he’d been starving and just got served his favorite meal.

Your entire body jerked. “T-Toji—!”

He didn’t respond. Didn’t pause. His mouth latched onto your clit, suckling, nibbling, circling that swollen bundle of nerves until your thighs trembled and your hands flew to his hair, clutching it like it was the only thing grounding you.

“Fuck,” Geto chuckled from the couch, watching lazily. “you’re gonna kill her.”

Toji gave a guttural grunt against your pussy, the vibrations making your hips jerk. He shifted lower, tongue thrusting into your entrance now, fucking you slow and deep with just the firm tip. He groaned as he did it, like your taste was something he’d craved for ages.

And then— the bathroom door slammed open. Gojo stormed out, flushed red, shirtless, sweat shining on his chest, his pants hastily zipped and low on his waist. He stopped dead in his tracks. You. Toji.

You laid bare with your legs spread wide, while Toji devoured you like a goddamn beast. His hands still gripping your thighs, fingers digging in. One hand moved to your lower belly, pressing down slightly to arch your hips up into his mouth.

“Oh my fucking god,” Satoru groaned, dragging both hands through his hair. “you’re all going to hell. You—Toji—you’re going to the lowest of the low.”

Toji didn’t even look up. He spread your pussy wider with his thumbs, spit down onto your folds, and licked it back up. slowly and filthy Your hips bucked, your voice a high, breathy whimper of his name.

“Want a taste, huh?” Toji finally growled, looking up at Gojo with a grin, his lips soaked with your slick. “bet you’re gonna think about this when you jerk off tonight. Her thighs around your head. Her cunt twitchin’ on your tongue.”

“Ah—Toji, please—” you gasped, barely able to breathe. You were shaking now, body on edge, orgasm building fast under his brutal tongue and that skilled pressure. Toji’s finger joined in, just one pressing inside you, curling slow, teasing your sweet spot while his mouth ravaged your clit.

“gonna cum, baby?” he murmured, his breath hot against your cunt. “come on. show that pretty boy what he’s missing.”

Gojo stood there, fists clenched at his sides, chest heaving. You came hard. Eyes rolled back, thighs clamping around Toji’s head, sobbing his name. Your whole body convulsed, a wave of hot pleasure crashing through you. Toji’s tongue licked every drop of you like it was sacred. When he finally pulled back, his mouth was soaked, chin glistening. He kissed your inner thigh softly, almost sweetly then stood, towering over you.

Gojo looked like he was about to combust. “I—fucking hate all of you,” he said, before turning around walking off to bathroom again.

The door slammed shut again, hard enough to rattle the frame. You were sprawled on the couch with weak weak, lips parted, panting softly as the aftershocks of Toji’s tongue echoed in your bones. Body buzzed with overstimulation, every nerve singing, and inner thighs glistened with spit and slick. Toji was smirking, wiping his mouth lazily with the back of his hand, still standing tall in front of you like he owned the moment. Nanami returned from his room, sipping calmly from a bottle of water, while Geto started scribbling on his notebook again.

And then, the door banged open again.

Gojo stormed out again, and this time, he looked like a mess. Hair wild, cheeks flushed and damp from sweat. His pants hung loosely at his waist, clearly pulled up in a hurry again, and the frustration in his gait could’ve set the house on fire. He stomped right toward you. Didn’t speak. Didn’t wait. Just dropped to his knees between your legs and cupped your face in both hands like a man starved of touch and sanity.

“I’m kissing her,” he growled under his breath, looking at Toji and the others. “and none of you fuckers are stopping me.”

Toji scoffed, arms crossed. “tch. you’re on a curfew, brat.”

“I’m allowed to kiss,” Gojo snapped, not taking his eyes off your face. “kissing’s free. and if you think I’m just gonna sit here jerking off in a damn bathroom while you all get your mouths, fingers and cocks on my girl, then you’ve lost your goddamn minds.”

You were breathless, barely able to speak. “Satoru—”

He kissed you. Hard. Mouth crashing into yours like a dam breaking, all tongue and teeth and hunger. His lips were hot, demanding, slick from panting, and you whimpered into it as he licked into your mouth, deep and messy and filthy. He moaned your name into the kiss, kissed you again and again, shifting closer on his knees until his chest pressed into your legs and you felt the full outline of his arousal straining against his pants. His hands trembled on your cheeks, twitching with the effort not to move lower. Because he wanted to. So badly. But Gojo was obeying the rules, for now.

You moaned when he nibbled your bottom lip, breathing hard. “you taste so good,” he whispered. “so sweet. fuck—fuck, never been so hard for so long in my life.”

You blinked at him, dazed. “mm... toru…”

Gojo kissed you again, sloppier this time, letting out little noises like he was losing his mind from it. His mouth trailed down your jaw, to your neck, licking the sweat there, sucking a mark just above your collarbone. Then he pulled back, panting. Looked around and snapped.

“Okay, I can’t do this for a week,” he barked, turning to Nanami and Geto. “no. no, fuck this. I’m done. cut my curfew short. please.”

Geto raised an eyebrow. “why should we?”

“Because I’m gonna die!” Gojo threw his head back dramatically. “do you know what it’s like to be this hard for hours? my dick’s gonna fall off. my wrists are sore, I’ve jerked off five fucking times today, and now she’s walking around in those fucking tiny shorts, tits bouncing, ass jiggling, and you expect me to just watch?!”

Toji snorted. “that’s the whole point, dumbass.”

Gojo turned on him, eyes wild. “you literally ate her pussy in front of me! I should throw you off the balcony.”

Toji just grinned. “are you hurt, loverboy?”

“Of course I am,” Gojo groaned, pacing now. “I wanna bury my face in her cunt until she sobs. want her riding my face. want her tits in my mouth. want to fuck—ugh!—swear to God, if I don’t cum inside her by the weekend, I’ll jump off the building myself.”

Nanami raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “then learn to control yourself.”

Gojo rounded on him next, whimpering like a brat. “you had your hands on her tits this morning. I saw it. I was right fucking there. she was moaning your fuckin' name and I sat there like a damn virgin with blue balls.”

You gasped, flushing. “Oh my god, toru!”

Gojo looked at you with pleading eyes. “baby, please. tell them I’ve been good.”

You bit your lip, smiling faintly. “well, I'd say, you’ve tried.”

“Seee!!! my hands are sore. been holding back all day. do you know how hard that is for me?”

Toji rolled his eyes. “cry harder.”

Geto smirked. “you’re such a whiny sub when you’re edged.”

“I am not—” Gojo started, then paused. thought about it. “okay, maybe I am. but you all love it, don’t you? watching me break while you get to touch her—get to taste her—”

He looked back at you again. Softer now. Pleading.

“Let me fuck you,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle. I’ll behave. I’ll be your good boy. just wanna be inside you so bad it hurts, princess…”

You part your lips to speak, but toji cuts you off before a word can come out, already shaking his head. “still no.”

Gojo whimpered. loudly. then collapsed back onto the floor, arms spread and defeated. “ughhhhh—fuck my life.”

He turned his head, looking up at you again, hair messy, pupils blown wide. “but I still get kisses, right?”

You nodded shyly. "I guess so..."

He perked up. “c’mere then.”

And you leaned down into his lap, his lips already parting, eager for another long, messy kiss that he dragged out like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

His lips were swollen from kissing you like a starved man, his pants stretched painfully around the still-throbbing bulge between his legs. Sweat clung to his temples, his shirt stuck to his skin, and the look in his eyes was pure, tortured lust.

But he’d made it. barely. he hadn’t touched you. not once. except to kiss, but that didn’t count cause "kisses were free" or he said. He'd watched you get teased, manhandled, devoured, saw your legs tremble when Geto humped you, saw your tits getting sucked by Nanami, saw you getting eaten alive by Toji and still, somehow, didn’t break the rule. Even if it felt like his dick might.

He rolled onto his side with a loud groan, curling slightly, muttering into the carpet, “one day down… six more to go…”

He sounded like a soldier crawling back from war. Toji laughed from the couch, flicking a stray droplet of your slick off his fingers. “bet it’s gonna feel like sixty.”

Geto snorted. “think he’ll make it?”

Nanami adjusted his shirt. “he better make it.”

But Gojo, panting on the floor with his face smushed into the rug, grinned with stubborn pride. because despite the aching balls, the shattered ego, the near feral urges—he won.

Day one: survived. barely. Hell had six more days. And Satoru Gojo, horny and humiliated, was walking straight back into the fire.

***

Satoru had never appreciated overtime until now.

Normally, he'd be the first to whine, spin in his chair like a bored child, and text you a dozen times complaining about how "work is murdering his soul". but today, being chained to his desk felt like divine intervention.

Curfew was still on. no touching. no teasing. no you. by the time he got home, the sky was dark and the apartment lights were dim. he sighed dramatically as he walked in, kicking his shoes off.

"finally… solitude," he muttered, looking around. no sight of you. no sight of the others either. maybe—just maybe—he could survive another day without losing his mind. until he heard it.

A giggle, followed by a soft moan. unmistakably yours. from your room. Satoru froze, the air leaving his lungs like someone punched it out of him. his bedroom door was open, Geto was laying on his bed reading a book, calm as ever. "Satoru," he greeted with a nod, unfazed.

Geto wasn’t the culprit. Nanami, maybe? Satoru peered into the balcony and saw the man quietly working on his laptop, brow furrowed, sipping his drink. that left only one option.

“Toji, that fuckin' bastard...” he whispered, like uttering a curse. he didn’t check. he didn’t even want to. Instead, he turned on his heels, stormed into his room, grabbed two pillows, covered both ears, and curled up under the blanket like a sulking cat. "day 2 is done," he groaned. "only five more days of this goddamn hell."

***

Saturday.

Usually, weekends were Gojo's playground. lazy mornings spent tangled up with you and wild nights that didn’t end until someone begged for mercy. he would’ve definitely slipped in sometime past midnight, all smug about it, curling himself around you, pressing lazy kisses into your skin until you melted into him, until you were too soft to even protest. and by morning, he’d still be there, wrapped around you like a clingy octopus that refuses to let go, limbs tangled, face buried into your neck. stealing your first kiss of the day without even asking… greedy like that. always greedy when it comes to you. but today? today was war.

Satoru Gojo was not okay.

He woke up hard. again. that invisible morning wood misery where his cock throbbed against his boxers like it had a vendetta. he was so sensitive, even the damn bedsheet brushing against him felt like a crime.

Worse? he had dreamt of you. a damn wet dream.

Bent over the bathroom sink, nipples puffy, thighs shaking, begging him to break the curfew. “touch me, Toru—please—need it—”

He’d woken up whining, breathless, sticky with sweat and pre-cum, fists clenched and trembling under the covers.

Three days. he hadn’t really touched you in three damn days. and he was losing it. he sat up in bed and stared at the ceiling, mentally preparing himself.

"you got this, Satoru. It’s just one more day. you can do it. you’re strong. you’ve got willpower. you—"

Then he heard your laugh. soft, airy giggle that wrapped around his nerves like a noose. "Fuck," he whispered, dragging his hands down his face. still, he emerged from his room with that classic grin plastered across his face. masking his suffering. pretending to be fine.

“I’m sunshine incarnate,” he whispered like a mantra. then he took exactly two steps into the living room and froze.

There you were, sitting on the couch with Toji's head buried in your tits, a nipple in his mouth, arms snug around your waist like he was nursing. and the look on your face, eyes fluttered, lips parted, soft sighs escaping you was murderous.

Satoru didn't speak. he just spun around on his heel and bolted into the kitchen, grabbing the coldest bottle of water from the fridge and pressing it to his forehead. "my lord, please shorten my sentence," Gojo muttered under his breath. "I can't do this. I can’t."

He could hear it, Toji murmuring against your skin, low praises and chuckles. occasional wet sound that made Gojo's spine stiffen like a board. and you, sweet and shy as ever, trying not to moan too loud.

“wish this was you?” Toji called out casually, knowing damn well Gojo could hear every word from the kitchen.

He gritted his teeth. "you know what? I don’t need this," he snapped to himself, grabbing the first thing he got and aggressively slicing fruit like it had personally offended him.

***

After a few minutes, he was still sulking at the kitchen counter, gripping his cold water bottle like it was the only thing keeping him from combusting. his jaw clenched every time he heard so much as the sofa creak or your laugh echo from the living room. that's when Nanami stepped in.

“rough morning?” he asked, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt, looking like he’d just stepped off a runway.

Gojo glared. “no, not at all. oh how I love waking up to the sound of Toji suckling on my girl’s tits in 4K surround sound.”

Nanami blinked biting back a grin. “could’ve stayed in your room.”

“I did, nanamin. stayed there, praying, meditating, trying to find peace. but then I opened the door, and BAM—Toji looked like he was trying to breastfeed.”

“mhhm,” Nanami mused, “she did look pretty this morning.... can't blame him...”

“don’t,” Gojo begged, gripping his water bottle tighter. that’s when Geto strolled in, shirt halfway unbuttoned, hair tied loose and lazy. he gave Gojo a bright smile. “oh, still alive?”

“hanging by a thread, yeah” Gojo hissed. “a thin, throbbing, aching thread.”

Geto leaned closer with a grin. “yeah, I’m throbbing too.”

Gojo nearly screamed. before he could curse out both of them, Toji’s voice floated in from the living room: deep, smug, deliberate.

“damn, doll—this top's practically painted on you. tryna kill someone this morning?”

Gojo stiffened, eyes twitching. he crept toward the edge of the kitchen doorway just in time to see you. you were wearing that top again. the one he bought. obviously. pastel pink one that barely held your tits, tight enough to show your hard nipples poking through like sinful little teases. and those tiny shorts—so tiny he could see the curve of your ass cheeks from under them. you were reaching up for the remote, which toji had intentionally placed just a little higher, just so he could watch you try your oh-so-best to grab it, before sliding in behind you, hands on your waist to “help” you take it, when the stretch of your arms lifting your top just enough to flash the soft skin of your tummy.

Gojo let out a strangled sound. Toji saw the way he stared. he smirked. “morning, brat,” Toji drawled. “she looks good, doesn’t she?”

Gojo gritted his teeth, adjusting his pants as subtly as he could. “don’t start, man—”

“just saying,” Toji shrugged. “you agreed to this little hands-off deal. not my fault our girl’s walking around like a snack.”

“she’s MY girl,” Gojo snapped.

“Toji—stop it,” you mumbled, cheeks pink, pushing him away gently as you walked to the couch.

Gojo looked at you immediately. “baby,” he whispered, “wear something else. please. you’re gonna kill me.”

You blinked at him innocently. “but it’s your favorite.”

“fuckin’ tease,” Toji muttered, sliding his hand slowly over your lower back, thumb dipping beneath your shorts.

Gojo slapped a hand over his mouth. “why…why is he allowed to do that?” he gasped.

“we all do that, only you got the ban.” Nanami said dryly.

“It was supposed to be a fun challenge,” Gojo whined. “like a game. not ‘let’s traumatize Satoru with free-use bunny porn’ every morning!”

“hell no— it's a fuckin’ ban,” toji mutters, voice rough, his hand squeezing a generous handful of your ass like it proves his point.

Gojo catches it and immediately looks away, jaw tight, like he can’t stand watching for another second. “you—you shut up.”

As if on cue, Geto passed by him with a soft whistle, sauntering up behind you next. you were standing near the couch when Geto pressed close to your back, his hand sliding up your arm to your throat, just holding, not squeezing, but enough to make Gojo's knees buckle in rage.

“look at you,” Geto purred in your ear. “still wet from last night?” you hummed, tilting your head into his touch. “suguuu… stopp...”

Gojo screamed internally. Geto turned toward him with a wink. “you hear that, Satoru? she’s still wet.”

Gojo dropped to his knees on to the floor. “god, if you’re listening, please smite them. or me. I don’t care who dies first.”

Nanami, the only one who didn’t go for dramatics, walked past the couch, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. “are you hungry?” he asked softly. “you didn’t eat much earlier.”

“I’m okay, will eat later” you murmured, smiling up at him.

“let me know,” Nanami replied, his fingers brushing under your jaw, lingering,then sliding down the column of your throat like routine.

Gojo’s hands clenched into fists. “even Nanami’s being slutty. Is this hell?”

Then came the final straw. Toji patted his thigh, grinning at you. “c’mere, sweetheart.” you climbed into his lap like it was muscle memory, your back to his chest, his palm immediately sliding over your bare thigh.

Gojo should've left the scene ages ago, but still he peered around the corner again and immediately regretted it. Toji wasn’t just touching you. he was massaging, thumb rubbing lazy circles under the curve of your ass, fingers sneaking higher, closer, pressing snug between your thighs. you squirmed, and Gojo heard your quiet gasp. that broke him.

Toji glanced toward him, that smug, wicked smirk on full display. “you watching, blue eyes?”

Gojo didn’t answer.

“want this, don’t you?” Toji drawled, leaning down to nip your neck. “bet you’d be a fuckin’ mess with her pussy grinding on you like this.”

“TOJI FUSHIGURO!” Gojo shrieked like a scandalized Victorian widow.

Toji just laughed, rolling his hips under you once, just to be mean. Geto howled with laughter. “Satoru’s gonna combust.”

Nanami sighed. “you’re pushing it.”

“oh, he loves it,” Toji grinned. “you see how red he gets?”

Gojo didn’t say anything. he just grabbed the tissue box, marched to his room, and slammed the door shut. from behind it came the faint, muffled wail:

“I HOPE YOU ALL GET BLUE BALLS FOR A WEEK!”

to be continued in the next chapter

comment down to get tagged in upcoming chapters.

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more?

pairing : jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : dubcon, somnophilia, possessiveness, coercion, overstimulation, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, group confrontation, Gojo being unhinged menace, mdni, 18+.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 11

Sleep was already starting to pull you under when you heard the all-too-familiar creak of your bedroom door.

There was no mistaking that hushed step, the way the door barely clicked closed behind him like he didn’t want to wake anyone else, not because he was being considerate, but because he wanted you all to himself.

“Bunny…” Gojo’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, but the mischief in it made your chest tighten. “they’re all asleep. It’s just us now.”

You didn’t bother to move, the blanket pulled to your chin, body heavy from the long week and the longer days of Gojo’s constant, relentless affection. But that didn’t stop him. It never did. He was already slipping under the sheets behind you, his arms winding around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. His lips ghosted over your neck, slow, reverent.

“Don’t listen to them,” he murmured, voice warm against your skin. “they’re just jealous. jealous ‘cause you love me more.”

“Satoru…” your voice was groggy, almost a whisper.

“You do love me, right?” his hand slid up your stomach, cupping one breast through your sleep shirt, fingers teasing around the edge of the fabric. “right, bunny?”

You could only nod, and that was enough. Like, what else were you even supposed to say when he's being this sweet? "I do, Toru..."

“See?” he whispered victorious, nuzzling into your hair. “I love you so much more than any of them ever could. I think about you all day, every second. I can't help it.” His hand slipped down lower, inching between your thighs as he whispered, “let me show you. lust a little, yeah? I’ll be good. I’ll be gentle. you won’t even have to move.”

And he was true to his word… at first. You didn’t know how long it took, only that his voice was constant in your ear, syrupy sweet, filth laced into every praise and plea.

“God, you’re so perfect like this. warm, soft, all mine. allways so wet for me, huh? your body sure knows who it belongs to.”

He moved inside you slowly, carefully, barely shifting your legs apart more than necessary. Your head rested on the pillow, breath catching as his hips rocked lazily, as if savoring every second he got to be wrapped around you like this. One hand held your thigh in place while the other stroked your clit, gentle circles in sync with his thrusts.

“I bet Nanamin can’t make you feel like this. and Toji? he’s all grunts and bruises.” he chuckled, kissing your temple. “but me? I worship you. like you deserve. you feel so good, bunny—fuck—you always do.”

You couldn’t speak but only whimper, moan into the sheets, too flushed to meet him but too full of him to say no and when you finally came, shaking under his weight, he moaned softly against your neck and came right after, murmuring, “that’s my good girl… my angel… my everything.”

He kissed your face, everywhere he could reach, and you thought maybe, just maybe that would be enough for him tonight. But Gojo wasn’t done. You started drifting off again, barely had the chance to calm your breathing, when he turned you to face to him, pulling you into his chest.

“I can’t sleep,” he said, eyes shining in the dim light, bottom lip pushed out in a slight pout. “still hard. can’t stop thinking about you. bunny…”

“Satoru…” you started, voice strained.

“You wouldn’t say no to me, right?” he murmured, sliding your leg over his waist, already lining himself up again. “you love me, right? I’m gentle… I’ll go slow. just need you a little more.”

The second time wasn’t as slow. Gojo was needy, feverish, kissing you deeper, whispering dirty things. “you’re mine. all mine. fuck—you take me so good every time, like you were made for this.”

He took you with your legs wrapped around him, your fingers clutching at his back while he buried himself deeper with each thrust. His voice never stopped. Told you how much he needed you, how he couldn’t go a night without being inside you, how good you looked when you came just for him. He stroked your face as you whined and clenched around him again.

When he came again, his lips were right by your ear, whispering, “love you… love you, love you, love you, love you so much… more than anything...”

Then he shifted again, pressing kisses down your neck and between your breasts. He stays like that for sometime. Then he spoke up after a few minutes. “one more, baby. just one more, yeah? third time’s the charm…”

“Nooo,” you whispered, and it was the first time you had ever told him that.

Gojo paused. “what?”

“I wanna sleep,” you said, chest trembling, lips dry. “I… I love you, Satoru. I do. but it’s getting too much. I can’t keep up. If you really love me, just… please. please give me a break.”

His face changed, laughter fading, a flicker of guilt overtaking his usual smug confidence. “you’re serious?”

You nodded, scared you’d see disappointment or rejection in his eyes. Instead, Gojo leaned in, kissed your forehead, and gently pulled the blanket over you. He tucked you in, stroking your cheek for a long, quiet moment.

“Bunny,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, really sorry.... didn't mean to.... oh god.... I'm so sorry, bunny.” He laid down beside you for a minute longer, arms curled around your waist, face buried in your hair. “didn’t mean to make you feel like this. I just love you so much it gets all messy sometimes. but I’ll be better. I promise.”

And for the first time in days, you were able to really sleep.

*****

You barely got a full night’s rest. House was still quiet, the sun not even strong enough to fully light the room, and your body still sore in all the places Gojo had kissed, touched, stretched the night before. Every muscle begged for sleep, but then, soft, slow pressure on your thighs. A hand. Your breath stopped before your eyes even opened.

“morning, bunny,” came that too-sweet whisper, the kind that always slid right down your spine. “don’t open your eyes. gonna be gentle. promise.”

You groaned, not ready for this. Not again. Not this soon. “Toruu…” you murmured, still half-asleep.

He was already under the covers, pushing your legs apart, mouthing soft kisses up your thigh. “shh. they won’t know. It’s just a little good morning treat. I missed you. I dreamt about you.”

His voice had that lilt, innocent, breathy, boyish and his fingers were already dragging your panties down with practiced ease. You did not even reacted, too tired to fight him when he nuzzled between your thighs like he belonged there.

“You’re so warm,” he whispered, already pressing soft, suckling kisses to your folds. “like heaven… always so soft for me.”

You gasped when his tongue slid between your lips, slow and deep, his fingers slipping under your thighs to hold you steady. He was gentle, maddeningly so. Worshipful. The kind of slow, teasing pace that left your brain foggy and your body twitching.

“I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” he mumbled with his mouth full, groaning as he dipped his tongue into your still-quivering entrance. “gotta get my calories in.”

You shivered violently. “Satoruuu… ahhh....”

But he just moaned louder. “fuck, baby, you taste better than anything I could ever eat.”

When he finally slid up your body, your panties long discarded, he was already leaking against your thigh, his cock twitching, painfully hard.

“Let me in, just once,” he begged, rubbing himself against your entrance. “you’re so wet already. would just slide right in.”

“You said—last night—” you gasped, hands on his chest.

He kissed your lips, then your cheek, then your neck. “I know, I know, baby, I said I’d behave. but I’m in love. and horny. and this bunny here is so damn addictive.” he said, groaning, his forehead dropping to yours, pressing little pecks all over your face.

“Toru… why won't you ever listen...” you whispered it so gently, barely louder than the rustling of sheets but it was enough to make him freeze. His hands stilled on your hips, his lips hovering over your chest. His breath was uneven, like it physically pained him to stop. He blinked down at you, face still flushed, lips parted as if trying to argue. And then—

Click. Bedroom door creaked open.

“Satoru.” Geto’s voice was sharp, low, unmistakably pissed. His silhouette stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “hall. now.”

Gojo’s whole body tensed like a scolded schoolboy caught cheating on a test. His mouth opened, closed, then muttered under his breath, “gotta be fuckin' kidding me…”

He climbed off you slowly, like every movement physically hurt. He didn’t even bother looking at Geto as he yanked on his pants, still hard, shirtless, hair a sweaty mess. Sheet slipped from your legs as you quickly pulled it up over yourself, heart thudding. Geto didn’t say another word. Just turned and left the door open for Gojo to follow.

Gojo muttered, “drama queen,” as he walked behind him, bare feet slapping against the floor. But the moment he turned the corner into the living room—

Toji was already there. Sitting back in the armchair like a storm in human form, arms spread wide, jaw clenched. Nanami stood off to the side, arms crossed, pants still perfectly pressed even this early. His expression unreadable and cold.

“Oh wow,” Gojo drawled, pausing in the doorway. “all this for little ol’ me?”

“Sit,” Nanami said curtly.

“I just sat—technically I was lying down,” Gojo mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Toji stood. “Gojo.”

Gojo rolled his eyes and plopped himself onto the couch, looking very much like a naughty child being scolded by parents. Geto stayed by the kitchen doorway, staring daggers at him.

“So,” Gojo said with an exaggerated stretch, “what’s this about? me loving our precious bunny too much? Is that a crime now?”

Toji’s jaw ticked. Nanami spoke first. “Just think about it Gojo.. all four of us are—” he cut himself off not knowing how to put it into words, "I mean, cut her some slack."

“you mean you’re jealous,” Gojo snapped. “all of you. admit it.”

Geto scoffed. “Satoru.”

“No, no, don’t Satoru me. I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. y’all are mad because she wants me more.”

Toji moved fast, crossed the room in a blink and grabbed Gojo by the collar, yanking him halfway up off the couch. “Try me,” Toji snarled, nose to nose with him. “say that shit again.”

“Toji,” Nanami warned.

Geto stepped in. “Toji, he isn't gonna listen like this.”

Gojo, surprisingly, didn’t look afraid. His smile didn’t even falter. “aw, did I hit a nerve?”

Toji shoved him back onto the couch, hard enough to make the cushions puff. “I’ll knock your teeth out if I see you hurtin' her again.”

“Hurting?” Gojo spat, laughing breathlessly. “she loves it. she begs for it—”

“She asked you to stop.” Nanami’s voice was low. Dangerous.

“Once!” Gojo barked. “just once! and I swear I did! she said it sweet, like she didn’t even mean it—”

“You didn’t even let her rest,” Geto snapped. “you had her moaning last night, again this morning, and just now. she looked pale. she’s shaking, Satoru. You think that’s love?”

“She’s just a little tired—” Gojo tried.

“You’ve been treating her like your own property for a while now,” Nanami said coldly.

Toji growled, “she fuckin' ain't.”

Gojo threw up his arms. “then why the hell is everyone only mad at me? everyone’s used the free use card! everyone’s taken her on a kitchen counter, or a couch, or in the shower! so why am I the bad guy now?”

“Because you don’t stop,” Geto said, voice suddenly quiet.

Gojo looked at him. For a second, something like real hurt flickered in his eyes. “I love her,” he said.

“That’s not the problem,” Nanami replied. “the problem is you don’t love her well.”

Gojo opened his mouth to argue but Toji cut him off. “want examples?” Toji growled. “fine. last week, you pulled her under the table while we were eating dinner.”

“She said she didn’t mind!”

“You had your dick out while we were talking bills.”

Gojo shrugged. “not my fault your financial plans are boring.”

“Yesterday,” Nanami interrupted, “you fingered her in the elevator.”

Gojo crossed his arms. “that’s private space.”

“There was a security camera.”

“Oops.”

“Two days ago,” Geto added, “you told her to come lie face-down on the couch for a massage and then you used her thighs to jerk off.”

Gojo blinked. “that was kind of romantic.”

“Romantic? you came on her back, Satoru.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “...Okay, that one might’ve been a little excessive.”

“And just this morning,” Nanami continued, “you did some shit to her while she was asleep.”

Gojo’s grin flickered. “she woke up. eventually.”

Toji cracked his knuckles. “keep talking. I’m begging you.”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Gojo finally said, holding up both hands. “I get it. I’m being a bit much.”

“No. you’re being a goddamn menace,” Geto hissed. “you’re tiring her out. she doesn’t even have the energy to push you away.”

Gojo’s hands dropped into his lap. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. “she doesn’t hate it,” he mumbled.

“Cause she loves you, moron,” Nanami said. “that’s not the same thing.”

Gojo went quiet. He sank into the couch like a kicked pup, bottom lip jutting slightly. “I just… I missed her. every time she’s not with me, I feel like I’m gonna burst. I’m always thinking about her. touching her, fucking her, kissing her, it’s the only thing that makes my head stop spinning.”

There was silence. Geto exhaled. Toji looked away. Nanami finally dropped his arms. But nobody spoke.

Gojo swallowed. “she doesn’t want me anymore?”

“she told you she loves you,” Nanami said softly. “and she asked you for space. that’s not rejection.”

Gojo looked down at his lap and he sat back, arms folded, pout deepening like a punished brat trying to act mature.

“Fiiiine,” he sighed dramatically, tossing his head back. “I’ll behave. for real. happy now?”

Nanami didn’t look impressed. “not until we test that claim.”

Toji adjusted his hair. “let’s say... she’s doing laundry. alone. bending over to pick up clothes.”

Gojo's mouth twitched. “I'd walk over, lift that little shirt, spread her legs, and—”

Toji growled. “Gojo!”

“What?!” Gojo flailed. “you asked!”

“Answer. again,” Toji snapped. “with restraint.”

Gojo rolled his eyes like it physically hurt to behave. “ughh—fine. I’d walk over. kiss her cheek. go to my room. jerk off in silence. think about her socks.”

Toji: “you’re learning.”

Geto stepped in, voice calm but sharp. “okay, new one. she’s asleep on the couch, in just a shirt. legs bare.”

Gojo groaned, rubbing his face. “ughhh, I’d—tuck her in. maybe. touch myself behind the couch real quick, but that’s not touching her, so it doesn't counts.”

“It does.”

"definitely counts."

Gojo groaned “fine. I’d go lie down. stare at the ceiling. cry.”

“better.”

Geto crossed his arms, expression unreadable. “let’s say she accidentally brushes up against you in the kitchen. real close. you see her nipples through her tank top.”

Gojo blinked. “that’s entrapment.”

“Answer.”

Gojo groaned. “I’d—say good morning, clench my jaw, smile like I’m normal, and then go rub one out in the pantry.”

Geto: “Jesus Christ.”

Toji: “At least he’s not jumping her.”

Nanami: “barely.”

Geto sighed, rubbing his temple. “okay. last one. she’s just out of the shower. wrapped in a towel. hair wet. looks at you and says ‘hi’ with that cute sleepy voice.”

Gojo visibly clenched his fists. “...I’d bite my tongue. say ‘hi’ back. slam my bedroom door shut. whisper ‘fuck’ twenty times. then jerk off angry with tears in my eyes.”

Toji smirked. “you’re evolving.”

Gojo threw his hands in the air. “are we done slaughtering me now, or do you wanna do a group therapy circle jerk too? can I go to work before I snap and fuck her plushie?”

Nanami calmly replied, “you say that like you haven’t already.”

Gojo blinked. “that was just one time.”

Toji's eyes widen, "are you insane, bastard?"

"It smelled like her !!" Gojo defended.

Toji exhaled through his nose and stepped aside. “you little shit... just go shower. you're late.”

“Thanks, dad,” Gojo muttered as he stormed off.

Geto snorted. Nanami shook his head, done with all this dramatics. And just like that, the meeting of the Horny Crimes Tribunal adjourned—again.

***

Work was a blur for Gojo Satoru.

Clients? meetings? deadlines? all garbage. all background noise. His brain was full of you.

You in that little shirt folding laundry. moaning his name last night. stuttering while asking him to slow down. Your sleepy pout. The crease of your thighs. The soft skin under your collarbone he couldn’t stop thinking about. You telling him you’re tired, and it actually hurting.

Gojo leaned forward at his desk, long fingers pushing through his white strands, groaning into his hands. “Ughhhhh—why is she so cute, why is she so soft—fuck, should’ve held back more. no. wait. never mind.”

He tried jerking off again in the damn bathroom stall after lunch, quietly, of course but it didn’t help. The guilt stayed. The ache stayed. Your sleepy face and the nervous way you said “please toruu” stayed.

He was in love. Like stupidly in love. By the time work ended, he’d left late after zoning out half the day thinking about you in every imaginable pose.

The apartment door creaked open. Gojo stumbled in, completely ruined. His long coat dripped a puddle at the door. His hair was plastered to his forehead. Arms full of bags.

Everyone else was already home. You were curled up on the couch in a tshirt and shorts, hair damp from a shower. You looked up when the door opened and your face softened the second you saw him. Gojo kicked off his shoes, dropped the bags, and made a beeline for you, plopped beside you, nuzzling into your shoulder, nose cold, lips damp from the rain.

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “so, so so damn much.”

You blinked at the bags. He looked sheepish and started pulling things out. Your favorite ice cream, the exact flavor. favourite fried chicken from that shop across town. favorite chips, the salty ones. pack of gummy bears. Then came small trinkets, two pastel scrunchies, a thin silver chain with a heart pendant, a dainty pinky ring. And then a cute pink tank top with bunnies on it. And finally, a tiny bouquet of red roses. Fresh and dewy.

You stared, eyes wide. Gojo placed the flowers on your lap. Then slowly, he slid down onto his knees in front of you, between your legs, damp pants folding. He lifted your thigh and pressed a slow, reverent kiss right above your knee. His voice lowered, gentle and sincere.

“Hey... I know I’ve been kinda insane,” he began, resting his head against your leg. “okay—not kinda. like. really.”

You giggled softly, but he looked up, expression unusually serious, clear blue eyes glimmering beneath wet lashes. “I just… I love you so much. really do. and when you’re near me it’s like my brain turns to soup, and all I wanna do is feel you. be close to you. touch you. even when I hold back, I don’t want to. not ‘cause I don’t respect you—I do—I swear I do—but it’s like my heart and my cock are in a tag team match and the heart is losing.”

You just blinked down at him.

He took your hands in his, still kneeling. “but I don’t wanna hurt you. or make you tired. I hate that I made you nervous to say no. that’s not love, that’s just me being a selfish dick. so... I’ll behave. for real. I’ll stop pushing. I’ll listen. I’ll pull back. I swear. no more making you do it three times a day like I’m a needy virgin. you’re my baby, my precious little baby.”

Your cheeks flushed hard. He kissed your thigh again. “I’ll be better. I’m gonna be better. promise.”

You smiled and nodded, eyes softening. "pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise." he whispers as he reached for your hand, locking his pinky finger against yours in a binding vow that you're not so sure he's gonna keep.

Anyways, the gesture made you soften and you threaded your fingers into his damp hair and tugged gently. “Okay.”

Just then, Toji’s voice cut in. “nice speech, loverboy. but it’s not enough just to buy her shit.”

Gojo let out an annoyed groan. “what now, old man?”

Nanami stepped into view, adjusting his shirt like a judge at the end of a court case. “you’re banned from touching her for a whole week.”

Gojo dramatically fell back against the floor like he’d been shot. “WHAT?!”

“You heard him,” Toji said flatly.

“A whole week?! are you trying to kill me?! I’ll shrivel up and die—”

“You’ll live,” Nanami said.

Gojo sat up, flailing. “but why?! you saw me kneel! I bought flowers! I made a speech!”

“You made her tired. one week. no touching. not even a thigh grab,” Toji said, crossing his arms.

Gojo narrowed his eyes. “so what, are we all celibate now? huh? or just me?!”

Toji: “Just you.”

“Unfair,” Gojo muttered.

Geto stifled a chuckle from the doorway. “Live with it.”

Gojo turned to you with a tragic expression. “baby. angel. love of my life. tell them to stop bullying me. please.”

You covered your mouth to hide your laugh.

Gojo sniffled dramatically. “I won’t even touch your ankle. just let me kiss you. just once. just one soft kiss. nothing else. swear. I’ll explode otherwise.”

Toji: “No.”

Gojo snapped. “who the hell are you, her fuckin' dad? I’m asking her!” he turned to you again, all big eyes and soft lips. “bunny... can I kiss you? just kiss. nothing else. not even a boob grab. please?”

Your face flushed hot. His voice was so sweet and desperate, you couldn’t resist and nodded shyly. "only one kiss, toru..."

Gojo beamed like he’d just won an Olympic gold medal, cupped your face gently, and pressed the softest, sweetest kiss to your lips, long and warm, like a promise. Then he pulled back, whispered, “I’ll wait. even if it kills me.”

Toji rolled his eyes. Nanami just sighed. Geto smiled. The war was temporarily over. For now.

to be continued in the next chapter

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[jinjoohaaa]

Jealousy looks good on you, baby

pairing : nanami kento x reader

synopsis : nanami took you out for ice cream to make up for last night. gojo tagged along. but the real cherry on top? that woman from nanami’s past shows up. and she looks real trouble.

content warning : nsfw, explicit sexual content, nipple play, teasing, possessiveness, breeding talk, jealousy, age gap, light humiliation, dirty talk. 18+ only.

nanami | gojo | geto | toji

read the main series here

Warm friday night air clings softly to your skin, the scent of waffle cones and melted sugar floating around you as you stand before a glowing ice cream stall. The board above you lists too many flavors, all chalked up in messy cursive. Caramel, cotton candy, triple chocolate fudge, blueberry cheesecake…

You chew your bottom lip, hands folded nervously in front of you as you scan the options.“I can’t decide…” you mumble.

“Buy all of ‘em,” Gojo says immediately, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a kid on a sugar high, sunglasses pushed up into his white hair. “I’ll pay. just blink twice if you want me to fund your sweet-tooth era.”

Nanami sighs beside you. “you’re not paying.”

“Says who?” Gojo smirks. “you took her out but I’m the one who makes her smile.”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night,” Nanami mutters.

You glance up at them both, cheeks already warm. Gojo’s grin is wide and Nanami’s stoic, hands in his pockets. You shift on your feet, heart fluttering. Honestly, you’re still recovering from yesterday, bruises high on your thighs hidden under your skirt, soreness that hasn’t left. Nanami had held your trembling body all night, apologizing under his breath, lips pressed to your temple, promising—“I’ll make it up to you. this weekend. Ice cream. just us.”

Except Gojo overheard. And now here he was, ruining the peace.

“Oh, oh—try that mango one. mango makes everything better,” Gojo says, tugging lightly at your sleeve. “like, imagine it melting on your cunt while someone’s fingering you. so hot.”

You suck in a breath, eyes going wide. “t-toru!”

He just chuckles, shameless and unbothered, then leans down to whisper near your ear, “or do you prefer chocolate? because, bunny dipped in chocolate is a combo I’d pay for.”

You try not to combust on the spot. Nanami exhales deeply. “stop talking.”

Just then, a voice calls out from across the street, smooth and playful. “kento~!” Nanami turns, brows furrowed. Gojo does too.

And then her voice registers. You look just in time to see her. Tall, elegant, maybe in her early thirties, blonde waves swept back in a high twist, a sharp black blazer hugging her curves. Red lipstick. High heels. A smile that could kill.

Gojo whistles low. “damn. older women are always a blessing for my pretty eyes…”

You go quiet. Nanami's expression softens the second recognition hits. He smiles back, actually smiles and lifts a hand in greeting.

“Sweetheart,” he says gently to you, touching your shoulder. “pick something you like, hmm? I’ll be back in a minute.”

Your lips part to reply, but he's already walking across the street, not even waiting for it. Your heart sinks a little. Just a little.

Gojo keeps talking, mostly to himself. “you think she spanks men for fun? she gives off that boss lady vibe. shit, I’d let her tell me to sit, and I’d bark. proudly.”

You blink at him, mouth twitching, but your eyes keep slipping across the road. Nanami’s posture is relaxed, he’s not usually like that. The two of them talk, and she laughs, her hand brushing his forearm.

“Maybe I should get the vanilla,” you murmur, too soft.

"Mhmm you sure you're a vanilla girl?" Gojo smirks. He picks up a sample spoon, dips it into the pistachio, licks it once, then makes a face. “nah. that’s a bad head flavor. you want something creamy. like hazelnut. Or caramel. something that melts easy. so when it drips on your cunt, I can just lick…” he mimics licking it off his wrist.

You squeak, tugging at his shirt. “satoru… there are kids here…”

“These are life lessons,” he retorts with a wink.

Your attention drifts back across the road. Nanami’s laughing now. You pout slightly, eyes burning even though you tell yourself it’s nothing. Just an old friend. An ex, maybe. He’d never said. He wasn’t the type to hide things, but still… When they hug, something inside you twists. And then he’s coming back, straightening his sleeves, walking towards you.

“Have you picked?” he asks, voice smooth, eyes on you. You nod, pointing weakly to the blueberry cheesecake. Gojo hums something under his breath. You catch the words “lick” and “cream” but don’t want to ask. Nanami pays after a battle with Gojo.

You’re too quiet now, licking the corner of your spoon as you three begin walking home. Gojo talks enough for all three of you, arm slung lazily around your shoulders. You keep sneaking glances at Nanami, trying not to think of her laugh. The way he smiled at her. And beside you, Gojo’s fingers tap-tap along your shoulder, his voice low and smug.

The walk back home is filled with low chatter, Gojo is talking a mile a minute about some theory that somehow ties back to boobs and ice cream, but you don’t catch most of it. You’re quiet. Too quiet. Your fingers curl tighter around the paper cup in your hands, the ice cream inside mostly melted now. It tastes sweet on your tongue, but your expression doesn't match. You’re trying not to pout. Really, you are. But every time the image of that woman hugging Nanami flashes behind your eyes, something in your chest just drops. Gojo glances down at you as you trail beside him, head a little low.

“Hey, bunny,” he nudges you gently with his elbow. “you okay?”

You nod quickly.

“…didn’t like the ice cream, huh?”

You blink up at him. “no, it’s not that.”

“You’re pouting,” he says in your ear.

“I’m not,” you whisper back, even though you definitely are. Nanami slows his steps until he’s walking on your other side, eyes narrowing as he watches you. You don't meet his gaze.

“You cold?” he asks, already unzipping his coat.

You shake your head, but your voice betrays you. “I’m fine.”

He doesn’t listen, wrapping his coat over your shoulders anyway, hands lingering on your arms for a second longer than needed. The warmth makes you sink into the fabric without thinking.

“Thank you…” you murmur.

“You're quiet,” he says under his breath, like he’s filing that thought away.

When you reach the apartment, the door creaks open to the familiar scent of home. The living room is dim. Toji’s passed out on the couch, one arm draped over his face, mouth open slightly. Geto’s door is shut, faint music playing behind it. You toe off your shoes quietly, still wrapped in Nanami’s coat.

Gojo, of course, doesn’t know how to be quiet. The moment you try to step into your room, he squeezes in right behind you. “hey, hey—don’t shut me out. I missed you.”

“I was with you this morning, though,” you whisper, glancing at Nanami over your shoulder.

Gojo grins. “yeah, when you were bouncing on my cock and making the prettiest little sobs I’ve ever heard. doesn’t count as ‘quality time’.”

Your face turns crimson. “satoruu!!!”

He steps closer, arms ready to wrap around you, when Nanami grabs the back of his collar and yanks him out of your doorway like a misbehaving mutt.

Gojo stumbles back into the hallway. “HEY! RUDE.” Nanami slips inside your room and closes the door behind him firmly.

Gojo starts a full-blown tantrum outside. “you two are selfish! I offer free love and look what I get! used and thrown away like fuckin' trash—”

“Gojo, bed. now.” Nanami snaps.

Gojo groans. “ughhhh. fiiine. just so you know, this is why I’m emotionally distant with men.” You hear him muttering something about being “underappreciated” as he stomps off to his room.

The door clicks softly behind him. Now it’s quiet. Nanami exhales, hands loosening as he approaches you. His eyes are softer now, searching your face. “did you enjoy the ice cream?”

You hesitate, then nod.

He steps closer. “you sure you’re alright… from last night?”

You glance down at your legs, where his grip had bloomed purple over your skin. You nod again, more firm this time. “I’m okay,” you whisper.

He cups your face gently and kisses you deep, warm, lips pressing slow like he means it. You lean into him without thinking, letting his hand slide to your back. When he pulls away, his voice is low. “alright, sweetheart. get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He starts toward the door. Your heart panics, speaking before you think, with trembling voice. “..uhmm… nanami?”

He pauses, hand on the knob, looking over his shoulder. “yeah, baby?”

You shuffle in place, wringing your fingers. “I… uhh… can… can we… I-I wanna…”

His brows lift slightly as he turns to face you fully. “hmm?”

Your throat goes dry. “I wanna… do it.”

His expression shifts, amusement curving his lips, but his voice stays warm. “Oh?” he hums, stepping toward you again. “are you saying you want me to fuck you, dear?”

You nod once, face burning. He tilts your chin up with two fingers. “who am I to say no to that?”

He kisses you again, deeper, his tongue slow and thorough like he’s savoring the shape of your mouth. Then, he lifts you gently and lays you across your bed. His hands unbutton your top carefully like he’s unwrapping something rare.

“Such a shy little thing…” he murmurs, dragging his fingers down your chest. “but look at you asking for my cock. you must’ve missed it, hmm?”

You whimper softly. “… yeah.”

He smiles. “then I’ll give it to you. nice and slow.”

The room fills with soft gasps and the shuffle of fabric. Nanami’s mouth maps every inch of your skin, tongue warm, lips dragging over your neck, collarbone, breasts, thighs. He kisses every bruise he left before.

“Sorry,” he whispers each time. “you were too good… couldn’t help myself.”

He doesn’t fuck you. Not yet. First, he worships you. Hands firm on your thighs, spreading you, he licks your cunt like a man starved, slow and precise, tongue swirling around your clit, letting your moans get louder and messier until you’re writhing and clinging to the sheets. Only then does he finally slide into you inch by slow inch, watching your face the whole time.

“You always take me so well,” he breathes, groaning against your neck. “so tight like your pussy doesn’t wanna let me go.”

You’re gasping, arms around his shoulders, every stroke making your mind blur. His hips move slow and deep, kissing the ache in your belly. His hand sneaks between your legs to rub you just right, making you cry out.

“Shh, shh… I got you,” he whispers. “you’re doing so good, baby.”

By the end, your skin is slick with sweat, your thighs trembling, every nerve burning in the best way. He stays buried inside you as you both pant for air, foreheads pressed together. Then, he pulls out and gathers you close, arms snug around your waist. You’re tucked in his chest, your leg thrown over his, fingers tracing small circles on his ribs.

“…Nanamin, can I… ask you something?”

His voice was still thick with post-orgasm bliss, low and soft against your temple. "oh? what is it, dear? need something? water?"

You shook your head slowly, cheek still pressed to his chest where you could hear the steady beat of his heart. "... do you like my hair?"

He blinked, pulling back slightly to look down at you, brows slightly furrowed. "huh? yeah, baby—of course I do. your hair's just as pretty as you. why ask me that all of a sudden?"

You avoided his eyes, fiddling with a strand of your hair nervously. "nothing, just..." you mumbled, "I was wondering if I should colour it."

Nanami hummed and brought a hand to your head, threading his fingers through your hair and tugging you closer until your chest brushed against his. "hmm? why, baby? I mean, if you want to, of course. what colour do you have in mind, hmm?" he asked, voice turning warm again as he tilted his head and nuzzled into your chest. He licked over your nipple suddenly, making you jerk slightly.

"Ahhh! nghh... uhmm... do you think I’d look prettier in blonde?"

He paused to press a kiss against your tit, then glanced up. "blonde? hmm. well, I think black suits your eyes more, makes you look soft and sweet."

Another slow lick over your nipple. "but yeah, you’d still be pretty in blonde. you’d look pretty with anything."

You blinked down at him. "Ohh... hmm... okay..."

He raised an eyebrow, then chuckled softly. "why sweetheart? did gojo ask you to colour your hair?"

You quickly shook your head, lips pressing together. Nanami smirked and leaned up to kiss your lips, a slow, lingering kiss that soothed your nerves. You gently pulled away, slipping from the bed, naked still, as your eyes caught sight of his coat on the table. You padded over, slipped it over your shoulders, and hugged the fabric close. Nanami sat up on the bed, admiring the view with a soft groan.

"Nanamin… do I look good in this?"

His eyes dragged over you hungry and admiring, as he huffed a little laugh. "In a blazer? course, yeah. you look like a boss lady who’s about to ruin a man’s life."

You blushed a little, biting your lip. "s-so… does this style suit me more?"

He narrowed his eyes, sensing the undertone in your voice. "you look good in everything, baby. no matter what you wear."

You hesitated, then mumbled, "but... do you like this type of dress more than… my usual?"

Nanami stood, walking over to you completely naked, still semi-hard and completely unbothered by it. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in. "I didn’t say that," he kissed your forehead. "I said you always look pretty. whatever you wear."

You stared up at him with wide eyes before dragging him back to bed and slowly sitting on his lap, facing him skin to skin now, his cock twitching against your thigh. You curled your arms around his neck.

"Can I ask you something again?" you asked quietly. He smirked, brushing his thumb along your jaw.

"Oh? you sure have a lot of questions tonight. come on, ask me."

"Who… was that woman?"

You tried to sound casual, keeping your tone soft, neutral. But he picked up on it right away. Nanami blinked, then gave a small exhale. "an ex-colleague. we worked together for about five years."

"Were you close with her?"

"Not really. just professional stuff. I saw her today after more than a year."

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of the coat. "are you going to see her again?"

Nanami tilted his head slightly. "she did mention grabbing a coffee sometime to catch up. why, dear?"

You looked away. "no… nothing..."

He went quiet for a moment. The silence hung in the air before you whispered again. "..umm... nanamin?"

"Yes, love?"

You took a shaky breath. "do you like... women your age more?"

He blinked, brows furrowing, before his face broke into an incredulous little chuckle. "Ohh... so this is what it’s about, huh?"

"Wh-what—" you quickly shook your head, eyes wide and cheeks burning.

"Jealous, dear?"

"I’m not—jealous! why would I be—"

"Mmmhm." he leaned in, kissing your pout. "my pretty little girl’s all possessive for me, huh?"

You looked away again. He cradled your face with one hand and murmured, "she’s just an old friend, baby. married. has kids. even if she wasn’t—it wouldn’t matter." He pulled your face back to his. "I have you. yeah?"

You looked into his eyes, soft and hopeful. "promise?" He smiled and then bit down on your nipple without warning. "ah! nanamin!"

"Promise." He grinned, lips tugging at your sensitive flesh before letting go with a wet pop. "jealousy looks real good on you, baby..." He moved to your other nipple and sucked hard, swirling his tongue. "...but you’d look even better bouncing on my cock again, wouldn’t you?"

You slapped a hand over his mouth, cheeks flushed. "don’t say that!"

He laughed against your skin, licking your palm teasingly before pulling your hand down and murmuring, "c’mon... just one more round, yeah? wanna fill you up, make sure you know who you belong to."

His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing tight. "you’re not leaving this bed till I’ve fucked that jealousy right out of you, baby."

Your breath caught in your throat as he lifted you effortlessly, lining you up on his cock again and then he paused, smirking, "still wanna question me, sweetheart? or are you ready to get fucked dumb again?"

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[jinjoohaaa]

Sleep tight, sweetheart

You shouldn’t fall asleep around a man who treats temptation like permission.

Synopsis : Your mom marries rich. Now you're stuck living in a mansion with the most insufferable man you've ever met. A spoiled, arrogant asshole who looks at you like you're something he scraped off his shoe. The feeling is mutual. Until....

Content warning : explicit content • stepcest • step sibling • somnophilia • non-con/dubcon • power imbalance • heavy tit play • groping • humping • cum play • degradation • arrogant prick gojo • filthy smut • strong language • 18+ • mdni.

A/n : hey loves, I've clearly tagged this fic. so please don't cry in my comments about it being exactly what it says on the tin. enjoy!!

You weren’t supposed to end up here.

Not in some massive house with chandeliers that look like they could pay your college tuition. But your mom somehow managed to marry a man with more money than most people knew what to do with. You don’t know how she pulled it off, and honestly, you don’t want to.

Now you live here, stuck between pretending to belong and trying not to breathe too loud in case the marble floors echo judgment.

It’s fine. You can handle pretending.

What you can’t handle is Gojo Satoru.

The youngest son of that man. The one who didn’t even show up to his father’s wedding because he had "better things to do.”

He’s tall, smug, stupidly attractive, and knows it. Walks like he owns the air in the room. Looks at you like you’re something that got delivered to the wrong address. Every interaction with him is an insult wrapped in silk.

“Didn’t know charity cases came with plus ones,” he’d said once when you and mom arrived with luggage that looked embarrassing next to his brand-name everything.

Or the morning you tried to make coffee in the kitchen and he walked in, hair a mess, yawning like he hadn’t slept in years. You froze for half a second—because, yeah, he’s a dick, but he’s also that good-looking. And he caught it. Of course, he did.

“You can look, sweetheart. I get it.” he’d said, lips twitching. “Not your fault, though—most people do.”

The sheer audacity of that sentence made your eye twitch. You told him to choke.

He laughed and actually said, “Sounds like you're the one who's eager for it.”

Since then, you avoid him as much as possible. You eat at different times, use the other staircase, and pretend he doesn’t exist when he walks by in sweatpants and zero shame.

It’s a delicate system. You stay out of each other’s way, and the house stays quiet.

Until tonight.

The others went out—your mom and her husband doing whatever rich people do when they say “business dinner.” The staff had gone home hours ago. House was dead silent, except for the hum of the AC and the faint noise of the TV upstairs.

You were sprawled on the couch, watching some random show, too lazy to go to your room. The glow from the screen flickered over the glass railing, throwing light on the expensive decor you still weren’t used to.

You weren’t thinking about him. You never try to think about him. He just shows up in your head like a song you hate but know every word to.

The guy’s too pretty for his own good. Snowy silk hair, those ridiculous blue eyes, the kind of confidence that makes you want to throw a punch. Still, you’ve caught yourself looking far more times than you’ll admit, but you always end up annoyed after. All that beauty wasted on a prick like him. Some people win the genetic lottery and still manage to act like jerks.

What a fuckin' shame.

The soft glow of the TV blurred at the edges as your eyes grew heavier and heavier. Couch was warm, the blanket softer than it looked, and before you realized, your phone slipped from your hand, screen dimming out. You were out cold.

And down the hall, Gojo’s door creaked open.

He stepped out, jacket slung over one shoulder, keys in hand, probably heading out to do whatever rich, bored boys do on a friday night.

He was halfway down the hallway when he saw you, making him stop dead in his tracks. He hadn’t expected you to be here.

You were sprawled on the leather couch, head tilted back, mouth slightly open. One arm dangled off the edge, fingers brushing the floor. The neck of your tshirt had ridden down, twisted just enough to bare your left breast completely. The nipple was stiff in the AC’s chill, the curve heavy and full against your ribcage.

He’d never seen you like this. Vulnerable and exposed, not the annoying girl he looked down for invading his space. His gaze locked on the swell of flesh, the way it spilled slightly under your arm.

He knew they were big, couldn’t miss it with those tight tops you wore, parading around him—but seeing it like this, offered up for him? His cock throbbed hard against his zipper, a hot, insistent ache. He took a step closer, the carpet muffling his movements.

Such a fuckin’ whore, aren’t you? the audacity of yours to be in his house, spread out on his couch, tits out like a desperate slut, hoping his pretty hands would end up all over you. Isn't that right?

As if he’d ever touch something as lowly as you.

His fngers twitched at his sides. He’d come over meaning to yank that shirt back up, hide the tempting swell of your tit before it drove him insane. But the hand had a mind of its own. It drifted forward instead, palm hovering just above your bare skin, close enough to feel the warmth rising off you.

Your chest rose and fell in soft, steady breaths, that pretty nipple tightening even more under the cool air.

Just gonna cover this bitch up, he told himself.

Bullshit. His little friend down there told another story. It was strained hard against his slacks, thick and throbbing, calling him a liar with every pulse.

His thumb brushed the soft underside first, feather-light and testing. It was warm. So fucking soft it made his mouth water. He swallowed thickly, the other hand gripping the armrest for control. Then he gave in, palming the full heavy weight of your tit, fingers spreading wide to claim it. A gentle squeeze made the soft flesh spill between them as his thumb dragged slow, deliberate circles around that stiff peak, teasing it harder.

A low groan escaped him when you shifted slightly in sleep, arching your back just enough to push your tit deeper into his hand.

He groaned low and pinched the nipple between thumb and forefinger, rolling it. It pebbled tighter, and he felt his own pulse hammering in his throat. He massaged it slowly, feeling the bud stiffen impossibly harder under his fingers.

He wanted to pull back, needed to, but the urge to feel more, taste it, was a fever in his blood. His eyes darted to the hallway, empty and silent. Swallowing hard, he sank to his knees beside the couch, the leather creaking softly under his shifting weight.

Just a taste, he bargained with the throbbing ache in his gut. He leaned in and dragged his tongue in one long, sloppy wet stripe from the soft underside of your tit all the way up to that stiff nipple. A deep, guttural moan tore from his throat at the taste of your warm skin. Then his mouth closed over it, sucking your nipple deep between his lips. Flicking the hard bud fast and filthy with his tongue, sucking hard enough to pull your soft flesh into the wet heat of his mouth. He released it with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting his lips to your swollen bud, only to latch back on even harder, nursing it like he was trying to milk you.

His free hand yanked the neck of your t-shirt down roughly, fully exposing your other breast. Both of your fat tits were out now— soft and glistening with his spit.

The sight punched the air from his lungs. His free hand slid across your stomach as he reached your other breast. Grabbing it softly, fingers spreading wide to cradle the heavy weight, trying not to wake you, trying to pretend this wasn’t happening. He massaged both tits now, kneading them like dough, pulling and squeezing until your nipples were puffy, swollen nubs.

He wanted to stop. Should stop, but his hips ground against the couch edge, cock making a sticky mess in his pants.

He couldn’t fight it anymore. With a rough yank, he ripped his slacks open and shoved them down his thighs, letting his fat cock spring free, drooling sticky strings of pre-cum from the slit like it was already begging to breed something. He wrapped his big hand around the shaft, groaning deep as he squeezed it hard enough to make the veins bulge.

He started pumping it fast, thumb smearing the leaking mess all over the fat head with every brutal upward stroke. At the same time he dove back down, sucking your nipple back into his greedy mouth.

Wet, obscene sounds filled the silent room— the slick of his fist flying over his dick mixed with his hungry breaths. He nursed your tit, hard wet pulls that made the soft flesh bounce in his grip, spit running down the curve of it.

But it still wasn’t enough for the greedy bastard. Mind kept flashing to your untouched cunt, probably leaking under those tiny shorts. Just the thought made his heavy balls draw up tight, forcing another thick pulse of pre to spill over his knuckles. It had his fingers dug into your tit too hard, leaving angry red marks.

He froze, breath catching. "Shit. Did I wake her?"

But you shifted, twisting away and burying your face into the couch cushions. Your back arched so prettily as you pulled from him.

His mouth lost your nipple with a wet pop, and a frustrated growl rumbled deep in his chest. Eyes dragging down the delicious dip of your waist, straight to those shorts that were doing a piss-poor job of hiding what belonged to him.

Round, perky ass— plump, and practically begging to be spread open and used. The fabric stretched taut over each cheeks, outlining their fullness while you lay on your side, a gift he was dying to unwrap.

Fuck... all this time?

There had been an ass like this right under his roof, sitting within arm’s reach every single day, and he’d never bothered to use it? How the hell had he been this goddamn ignorant?

His cock jumped eagerly as he kept stroking. He needed those shorts gone. Needed to see that bare cunt right fucking now.

He leaned in close, fingers hooking into the waistband of your cotton shorts, tugging them down slow, watching the fabric peel off your hips and bunch at your knees, revealing twin globes of perfect flesh.

Shit... this was what he’d been ignoring all this time? the arrogant prick in him wanted to laugh at how blind he’d been. He needed to ruin it. Needed to cover those plump cheeks in thick ropes of his cum until it dripped down your skin.

His thumbs dug deep into the soft flesh, spreading your ass wide open. There she was— a pretty cunt, puffy and shiny with slick and the little hole clenching around nothing.

“Look at that,” he muttered, letting out a low whistle. His index finger slid through your soaked folds, dragging all that warm slick up to your clit before he started rubbing it in rough, slow circles. You whimpered softly, hips shifting and pushing back against his hand like your greedy pussy already knew it was him.

He kept rubbing your pussy with slow strokes, slick coating his fingertip as it slid effortlessly over the mess. He could feel every pulse and throb, your cunt practically sucking at the air. He bit his lip bloody holding back from shoving his dick into that tight hole right fucking now. Wanting to fuck you stupid, to feel the gummy walls choke him, the thought of it nearly buckled his knees. With a groan, he pulled his finger back, thick string of slick connecting to your pussy for a second before snapping.

Without hesitation, he shoved them into his mouth, sucking hard. The taste exploded on his tongue and his eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy.

At that hell of a moment all he wanted was to be balls deep in that fuck hole, slide in and out until it milked him dry. But the clock was ticking. He had somewhere he needs to be. Jaw clenched, he grabbed his aching dick, pumping it roughly in his fist, finally aiming it between your thighs.

The swollen head dragged through your soaked folds, smearing your slick over his throbbing tip. He bit back a moan, teeth grinding as he rubbed himself against your pussy, everything too much.

Heaven wasn’t some distant dream—it was right here, between your thighs, in your leaking cunt. Gojo was already at his fucking limit, cock sliding through your soaked folds once, twice—and the swollen head caught on your clit on the third thrust, rubbing hard against that swollen bud.

That was it.

Three slides of his cock on your folds and it was endgame for the mighty Satoru gojo. He covered his own mouth as his hips jerked forward uncontrollably. Thick, hot ropes of cum exploded from his cock, splattering across your bare cunt in thick, white stripes. It pulsed out of him in violent spurts, painting your glistening flesh with sticky streaks.

Satoru’s sat on his knees, chest heaving, eyes dark and smug, and yeah… he knows exactly what the fuck just happened.

Does he feel even a hint of guilt?

Hell no. Not even a shred. And why would he? The bastard loved every second of it. He even had the audacity to pull back your shorts like he was done using your hole, not even giving a damn what you’d think when you woke up.

That’s the fun part—letting you wake up, piecing it all together, maybe stumbling into him later, cheeks flushed, begging for it and even if you didn't, it doesn't matter cause he takes what he wants anyways.

And let’s be real… how could you even say no to that face? That cocky, impossible, infuriatingly perfect face? You can’t.

Nobody says no to Gojo Satoru. And he knows it.

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[jinjoohaaa]

Terms & conditions apply

desperate times call for desperate housing decisions.

pairing : roommate sukuna x reader

content warning : dubcon themes, power imbalance, “free use” arrangement, rough sex, manhandling, spanking, degradation, objectification, biting, 18+, mdni.

"finally," you mutter to yourself, scrolling through apartment listings on your cracked phone screen.

the ad looked sketchy as hell. no photos. barely any details. just an address in a decent neighborhood, a rent cheap enough to make you suspicious, and a single name.

sukuna.

conditions list: no guests, no pets, quiet after 10 pm. you could live with that. desperation makes it sound reasonable after three failed viewings today alone. you stared at it for a second before snorting. whatever.

you dial the number, heart pounding when a deep, bored voice answers.

"yeah?" sukuna's voice cuts through.

“oh—hi! I was calling about the apartment.”

he started firing questions like bullets without so much as a hello in between. age, job, why you need the place. by the end of it, you felt less like a potential tenant and more like you were being interrogated at a police station.

you stammer answers, relief flooding you when he grunts an approval. “oh, thank god. I really—”

“hang on.”

your stomach dropped again. another pause. then you heard him speak, slower this time.

“Is this you?”

“huh?”

“the profile picture.”

you frowned, glancing at the tiny icon on your screen. “uh... yeah?”

he didn't answer immediately. Instead, a low chuckle crackled through the speaker, the sound oddly amused.

“so...” he drawled. “you really want this place?”

“yes,” you said a little too quickly. “please. I don't really have any other choice.”

he went silent again. long enough to make you wonder if the call had dropped.

"then one more condition. non-negotiable."

you brace yourself, grip tightenening around the phone. "sure."

"free use. while you’re living here."

confusion knots your stomach. free use? like sharing stuff? wi-fi? sure, you barely own a coffee mug, anyways. In every angle, he's the one who getting the short end of the stick.

"deal," you agree quickly, without another thought, far too tired and far too desperate to question what he'd actually meant.

***

the moving truck pulls away as you lug your last box into the shared apartment's dim hallway.

sukuna leans against the doorframe of his room, arms crossed over a tight black t-shirt that strains against thick muscle. he doesn't offer help, just watches with hooded crimson eyes as you struggle past him.

"kitchen rules," he states flatly. "clean your shit when you're done. my space stays untouched."

you nod, throat tight. his presence feels like a physical weight. heavy and territorial.

for two days, you tiptoe around him, microwaving dinners silently while he ignores you completely, sprawled on the couch scrolling his phone. the silence is suffocating, but at least the rent's paid.

by the third morning, you're scrambling eggs in the kitchen while the coffee brewed beside you. It wasn't until you heard footsteps approaching that you realized you probably should've changed first.

you'd rolled straight out of bed and into the kitchen wearing the same tank top and tiny sleep shorts you'd fallen asleep in, never expecting sukuna to be awake this early.

the sound of footsteps stopped in the doorway. he looked like he'd only just gotten out of bed too, hair still messy from sleep, only a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

then you caught him looking at you. long enough to make you suddenly, painfully aware of what you were wearing. heat crept up your neck as you shifted your weight awkwardly, instinctively tugging at the hem of your tank top.

"...morning," you mumbled, clearing your throat as if that would somehow make the moment any less awkward.

he didn't say anything, just crowds you against the counter, his heat searing your back. one hand shoves aside your hair, his mouth lands on your neck. a wet, biting kiss that steals your breath.

"what—" you gasp, but his palm slides under your top, rough fingers pinching your nipple hard.

you blinked blank, very much confused. It took a second. then another. before your brain finally connected the dots.

uh-oh.

"still fine with it?" he growls against your ear.

the eggs were burning as his other hand slips between your thighs. you nod dumbly, the sizzle of the pan drowned by your pounding heart. but hey, even if it was a little misunderstanding, you weren't exactly complaining.

sukuna’s laugh rumbles against your spine, dark and satisfied. "good."

he doesn’t ask. just shoves your shorts down your hips, letting them pool at your ankles. the cold granite counter bites into your palms as he bends you over it, one hand fisting in your hair while the other spreads you open.

you gasp at the sudden intrusion, his thick fingers pushing inside without warning, rough and demanding. eggs char black in the pan beside you, smoke curling toward the ceiling as he pumps his fingers deep, scissoring them until you’re slick and trembling.

"quiet," he orders when you whimper, slapping your ass hard enough to leave a stinging print. "neighbours are nosy."

he flips you around like it’s nothing, hoisting your legs over his shoulders. your back arches hard off the counter as he yanks his pants down, and your eyes widen. fuck.

his cock was the biggest monster. thicker and heavier than the rest of him, dark red at the tip like it's angry at you. he’s really gonna put that in you?? lord have mercy...

he pumps it twice in his fist, before he starts poking and slapping the fat head against your pussy. the wet smacks makes you cry out. he shoots you a sharp look.

you slap your own hand over your mouth real quick, eyes rolling back as he massages your poor pussy with his mean cock. It feels more like he’s hitting and bullying your folds than actually rubbing. but those heavy slaps right on your swollen bud, make your thighs shake like crazy. you can’t think straight at all.

he gives your pussy a few more light, teasing taps, then finally lines it up on your hole and pushes in, inch by brutal inch, stretching you open wide as he buries himself deep inside you, bottoming out with a satisfied groan.

sukuna grins down at you, all sharp teeth and hunger. "knew you were tight," he rasps, hips pistoning.

every snap of his hips slams you against the counter’s edge, your jaw dropped open as he fucks you raw. you claw at his forearms, nails scraping ink-black tattoos as he uses you like a toy, relentless.

smoke thickens the air, the ruined eggs forgotten. your legs tremble around his neck, thighs slick with your own arousal and his sweat. he pins your wrists above your head, leaning close enough for you to taste his breath, hot and faintly metallic.

"look at you," he snarls, thrusts turning deeper. "best roomie ever."

you whimper, arching into each punishing stroke, the counter digging bruises into your spine. his pace stutters, a low groan tears from his throat as he spills inside you, filling you with pulsing heat. he holds you there, until he empties the very last drop in you.

he pulls out slowly, leaving you leaking on the countertop. sukuna doesn’t glance back as he grabs a towel to wipe himself off, very casual, like he’d just taken out the trash.

"clean this up," he grunts, nodding at the sticky mess between your thighs and the charred pan still smoking on the stove.

you slide down, legs shaky as noodles, shorts still tangled around your ankles. the cold air hits your skin where his sweat had been, making you shiver. you fumble for a cloth, avoiding the smirk he throws over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall.

***

the next few days blur into a rhythm controlled by him. you’re bent over the couch armrest in the middle of his match, his huge hand clamped tight over your mouth to muffle your moans while he rails your cunt from behind. hard and fast, brutal strokes like he’s trying to break you before the game ends. later he drags you into the shower, water running over both of you as he pins you face-first against the cold tiles, fingers digging bruises into your hips, and fucks you raw again.

you learn real quick to keep lube stashed in every damn room. you don’t complain. not when he wakes you at 3 am by ripping your panties to the side, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, and shoving himself balls-deep inside you. not when he casually palms your cunt under the table, thick fingers teasing your clit while he scrolls on his phone, then just walks away and leaves you leaking and aching.

his rules are simple: stay available, spread your legs, keep your mouth shut, let him use that sloppy pussy whenever he wants, and take every load he pumps into you. and god, what he gives is good.

It’s clear now. his “condition” meant exactly what he said. and you… you’ve stopped questioning it. you just take it like a slut he’s turning you into.

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[jinjoohaaa]

Spot me right

A trainer who can't keep things professional anymore

cw : obsession, face sitting, cunnilingus, teasing, overstimulation, oral (female receiving), mature readers only, mdni.

It’s 11 p.m., and you’ve been in the gym for three hours straight, sweating through your clothes, dragging your ass from treadmill to dumbbells to machines you don’t even know the name of.

Honestly? Discipline was never your thing. Eating clean, counting macros, waking up at 5 a.m. to “grind”… fuck that. You’d rather rot in bed with takeout. The whole gym membership was just a box you ticked, something to throw your hard-earned money at and then ignore.

At least, until he showed up.

Toji Fushiguro. The new trainer.

The man is every bad decision wrapped in sweat-slick muscle. Wide chest stretching out that thin tank like it’s about to snap, veins crawling down his arms, hands rough and big enough to snap a barbell in half. And that voice — low, commanding, making every “c’mon, faster,” or “one more rep” sound like a filthy promise instead of an instruction.

Who the hell wouldn’t show up every day just to watch that?

You used to stumble in on weekends, half-ass a treadmill jog, and leave before you broke a sweat. Now you’re suddenly the model gym rat, clocking in every damn evening, dragging yourself through routines you barely understand, all because you can’t stop staring at him. Because that man is stupidly hot.

And yeah, you’re shameless about it. You’ve been pushing your luck, too. Tight shorts instead of leggings. Cropped tanks instead of loose tees. Bending slow when you pick up weights, arching your back just enough on the mats. You wanted his attention, wanted his eyes on you the way yours are glued to him.

Was that really so bad? How can anyone help themselves when the man in question is Toji fucking Fushiguro?

And he sees you. He’s seen you for weeks now, dragging your pretty little ass in here just to sweat under his gaze. He’s been telling himself to keep it professional — because it’s his job, because he’s supposed to ignore the way you suck on your water bottle like you’re teasing him, the way your shorts ride up until he can’t look without imagining what’s under. But fuck if you’re making it easy. Every curl, every squat, every sway of your hips feels like bait he’s seconds away from biting into.

**********

“Yeah, that’s it, good job, see you tomorrow,” Toji calls out, slapping his last client on the back as the poor bastard stumbles out of the gym, looking half-dead. Midnight in an empty gym. No one else dumb enough to be here this late. Well, except Toji Fushiguro, because he works like a machine… and you, because you’re a horny bitch who wants him in your bed.

You linger near his space like a moth to a flame. Wandering from treadmill to water filter, looping around with your bottle just to get closer, pretending you still had “sets” left. You even ended up in the bathroom twice from how much water you forced down, anything for another excuse to hover. But when you came back out and couldn’t see him, your stomach dropped.

Shit. Maybe he finally left.

Then a shadow stretches over you.

“What you doin’, doll?” Toji’s voice rumbles behind you, that lazy drawl curling around your spine.

You spin, caught, fumbling. “Uhmm… working out? This a gym, ain’t it?”

He chuckles, low and rough. “I asked what the fuck you doin’ here for four hours straight, doll.”

You swallow, shifting your weight, heat pooling in your stomach. “Oh, well… I do like to spend time looking after myself.”

“That so?” His eyes rake down your body, slow and heavy.

“Mmhmm.”

He smirks, licking his teeth. “Then come help me out.”

Your brain barely catches up before you hear yourself squeak, “Huh?”

“Follow me, doll.”

And of course you do. Like the good little puppy you’ve been this whole time, trotting after him without a single protest.

Who the fuck wouldn’t? It’s Toji.

He leads you to the bench press, sprawls back on it, thick arms stretching out, bar in his grip.

“Hold it for me,” he mutters, like it’s nothing. But when you step behind his head and bend down, crotch hovering close to his dark hair, you know damn well it’s not nothing. Your heart’s hammering, thighs trembling, because this is exactly the kind of chance you’ve been chasing like a starved bitch.

You grip the bar, help him lift a few reps. His muscles flex, his chest swells, sweat trickling down his temple. Then his eyes cut up at you, wicked.

“Doll,” he drawls, voice like gravel, “come forward a little. Your form’s off.”

You bite your lip, heat flooding between your legs, but you move. Just a step, enough that your thighs straddle his head. Enough that your pussy which is barely hidden by thin gym shorts is hovering inches above his face.

His smirk widens, eyes glinting as he exhales against you. Hot. Teasing. Fucking dangerous.

And in that second, you know exactly what this is turning into.

**********

You stand there, knees shaking, hands tight on the bar while Toji keeps pressing up and down like he’s actually focused on lifting. But then his head tilts back, his nose brushing against the curve of your cunt. Just a graze. Barely anything.

Still, the heat of him right there in your cunt makes your breath hitch. You don’t mean to, but the tiniest whimper escapes you.

Toji hears it. Of course he does.

His lips curl into a smirk, and then he does it again. Pushes the bar up, lets his face press a little harder against the soft stretch of your shorts, right where you’re already throbbing.

“Ah—” The sound slips out before you can bite it back.

Toji chuckles low. “What’s that, doll? Thought you were just helping me.” His voice drips mockery.

Your cheeks burn, but you try to play dumb. “N-nothing… just tired.”

He hums, like he doesn’t believe a word. And instead of calling you out, he leans in deliberately and drags his nose right up the seam of your shorts. The damp spot you didn’t even realize was there smears against him, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Toji—” you whisper, but he shushes you with a low growl.

“Mhm. Keep quiet. Don’t want anyone hearin’ you moan like a slut in here, do we?”

He repeats the motion, nose nudging, lips brushing and then his tongue flicks out, a single hot stripe through the thin fabric.

Your whole body jerks, a broken moan tearing out of you. “F-fuck—”

“Thought so,” he mutters, licking again, this time slower. He presses his tongue flat, drenching the fabric, dragging it from your entrance up to your clit. By the time he pulls back, your shorts are clinging to you, soaked.

“Fuckin’ sweet,” he groans, smirking up at you. “Now… tell me, doll. Why you been walkin’ circles around the gym for hours? Hm?”

You bite your lip, trembling, but try again to lie. “I… I just… like staying healthy.”

Wrong move. He hooks his tongue against your clit and sucks hard enough to make you cry out.

The truth slips before you can think. “Y-you, Toji—I just wanted you.”

“Good girl,” he rumbles, voice smug as hell. He grips your thighs with those huge hands, fingers digging into the flesh as he finally drags the fabric aside. No patience now, just your bare, swollen pussy bared above his face, soaking his mouth.

He doesn’t waste a second. His tongue slides through your folds, slow and deliberate, savoring every bit. He licks up every drop, tongue curling against your clit before dipping lower, teasing your entrance, then pulling back just to hear you whine.

“Fuck, doll… sittin’ on my face like you were made for it,” he mutters against you, voice muffled by your cunt.

Your hips grind down without permission, chasing more, chasing friction. He groans when you do it, the vibration shooting straight through you.

“Keep ridin’ me,” Toji orders, licking a long, filthy stripe. “C’mon, doll. That’s it.”

And you do. You grind down shamelessly, rutting against his mouth, smearing yourself across his tongue. Every time he flicks your clit, you gasp. Every time he sucks, you keen, louder and louder. Your hands clutch the bar, knuckles white, while Toji devours you like he’s starving, slow enough to torture, but firm enough to keep you on edge.

When you whine his name again, all needy, he pulls back just enough to rasp, “What’s wrong, doll? Thought you liked takin’ care of yourself. Or was it all just to get my mouth right here?”

Your face burns, tears threatening your eyes, but your voice cracks open, desperate: “Y-yeah… Toji—wanted you—”

He laughs, low and dark, before sealing his mouth over your clit, sucking so hard your whole body jolts. His tongue rolls against it in slow circles, and your thighs squeeze around his head like a vice.

You don’t even notice when it tips over, when your body finally gives in. One second you’re grinding against his mouth, the next you’re coming so hard your thighs clamp around his head like a trap. Your back arches, a ragged cry ripping out of you as your pussy gushes against his tongue, soaking his mouth and his chin.

Toji doesn’t let up. He groans like he’s drunk on it, tongue flicking your clit faster, greedy, swallowing every drop you spill. You’re shaking, crying out, hips jerking helplessly and still he won’t stop.

Your hands fly down, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, tugging hard. “T-Toji—S'too much—” Your voice breaks, a half-sob, half-moan. “Please, s-stop—”

But he just pins your thighs tighter, keeps lapping at you, cruel and filthy. He drags his tongue slow over your slit, then flicks your clit in sharp bursts, making your legs spasm. You’re beyond words now, just stuttering gasps and broken whines.

It’s not until you’re twitching from overstimulation, your nails biting into his scalp, that he finally pulls back. His mouth is wet, glistening with you, and he wipes nothing away.

Toji sits up, casual as if he didn’t just lapped up your cunt. He grabs his towel, throws it over his shoulder, eyes glinting down at you, trembling on wobbly legs, shorts soaked, still leaking down your thighs.

“Same time, tomorrow?” he asks, voice rough, amused, like it’s the most normal question in the world.

You’re left slumped on the bench press, chest heaving, lips parted. It takes every ounce of strength just to nod, whispering out a breathless, “Y-yeah…”

And then he’s gone, walking off like he didn’t just make you lose your mind all over his face, leaving you pussy throbbing, already counting down to tomorrow.

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[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more?

pairing : jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : explicit sexual content, consensual free use, praise, degradation, voyeurism, oral, somnophilia, dubcon, obsessive behavior, physical exhaustion, manipulation, smut-heavy content, Gojo being an unhinged menace, humor mixed with filth, mdni, 18+.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 10

Morning settles quietly around the kitchen, soft and slow. You’re perched at the table with a warm mug in your hands, sipping the coffee Nanami made for you while he moves around the kitchen like he always does, already halfway through preparing breakfast.

“There she is.” Geto’s voice was amused, threading through the quiet kitchen. He stepped in, shirtless, sweatpants hanging sinfully low on his hips. “morning, sweetheart.” he walks over to you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

You hum a quiet good morning back to him, clearly pleased with the greeting. He didn't even looked at Nanami when he said, “come to the living room. you too, Nanamin.”

You followed, heart already thudding. when you entered the living room, your stomach twisted deliciously. Gojo and Toji were already there lazily spread across the couch like sin incarnate. Gojo had on a loose white shirt, unbuttoned just enough to tease his collarbones. one arm was thrown over the back of the couch, legs parted like he owned the air between them. Toji, beside him, wore nothing but dark joggers, his chest bare, arms heavy with muscle. he glanced at you once and that alone made your knees feel weak.

“Ahhh, my baby,” Gojo said, voice syrupy. “get in here, bunny. wanna ask you something.” he patted the space between him and Toji, and before you could sit down properly, he grabbed your hips and pulled you right between them. Toji didn’t even blink. his thigh pressed firmly against yours. Gojo’s hand immediately slid up your leg, dangerously close to the hem of your t-shirt. you were acutely aware that you hadn’t bothered with shorts.

Gojo hummed. “no shorts today either, huh? naughty.”

Your face flamed. “I just woke up, toru.”

“That’s fine, baby,” Geto murmured, now leaning against the back of the couch behind you, one hand brushing down the back of your neck. “you won’t be needing them anyway.”

Nanami stood stiff near the doorway, arms crossed, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Gojo smiled lazily. “we need to talk about something. you ready?”

You blinked, confused looking at him with furrowed brows. “… sure?”

He tilted his head, leaned closer. “we’ve all been dancing around it. the tension, the teasing. but it’s time we stop pretending.”

Toji exhaled a curl of smoke from the cigarette tucked between his fingers. “we wanna fuck you whenever we want.”

You freeze, blinking up at him with wide eyes, your expression practically screaming that whatever he just said was completely ridiculous.

Toji looked sideways at you, dead serious. “what you lookin' at? I'm serious. morning. noon. night. if I see you walking around in one of those little shirts, if I hear you moan in your sleep, I’m gonna fuck you. right there.”

As dangerous as it sounded and as much as it would probably ruin you, just the thought of it had heat rushing through your body.

"As if y'all not doing that already." Nanami scoffs.

"What's with the talk? "you"? the fuck you mean, huh? you fuck her too, actin' like a saint and all." Toji spat back.

Nanami didn't say anything, just shook his head frustrated and in loss of words. Gojo cut in, voice deceptively sweet. “we’re begging you, baby. say yes, please... f'me?”

Geto leaned down, mouth brushing the shell of your ear. “ever heard of free use, baby? that pretty mouth, those tits, that perfect cunt, always ready for us. always willing.”

Nanami’s gaze darkened, like he was quietly debating something with himself whether to keep being the gentleman he always tried to be, or listen to the far less noble voice in his head that was curious to see where this would lead.

“We’ll still spoil you,” Gojo added, his fingers sliding beneath your shirt to stroke your lower back. “still hold you when you cry. still kiss you goodnight. but if we want your mouth under the table during dinner? you’re on your knees.”

You’re still staring at them, a little blank, trying to process what exactly you just agreed to walk into. as tempting as it sounds… it’s a double-edged sword. especially with Gojo involved. and Toji… well, that man is a whole other problem. Geto and Nanami? you trust them. The other two?…debatable.

Decisions, decisions.

Three pairs of eyes are fixed on you, waiting. Nanami, however, seems to be avoiding your gaze entirely, looking everywhere but at you, like he’s quietly fighting some internal battle.

You finally sigh. “It's fine… but—”

The second you speak, every head snaps toward you, attention sharpening instantly. “but what, bunnyyyy?” Gojo interrupts with an exaggerated pout, already leaning forward with those ridiculous puppy eyes of his. before he can go further, smack. Geto’s hand lands on the back of his head. “let her talk, Satoru.”

Gojo whips around to glare at him, rubbing the back of his head like he’s been personally betrayed, slowly pulling back from you.

Meanwhile, Toji’s voice cuts through the room. “Talk.” his eyes are locked on you, sharp and expectant.

You sigh again, rubbing your temple. “okay… it’s fine. as long as you all stop when I say.”

Toji immediately looks offended. Like, deeply offended. “the hell you think of me, huh?” he scoffs, brows knitting together. “that I’m some creep who’d force myself on you?”

You blink at him, confused. “I didn’t say your name, Toji.”

That shuts him up. He actually looks a little embarrassed for a second, scratching the back of his neck. “well… I mean— then who?”

The moment the question leaves his mouth, every single head in the room slowly turns toward Gojo, who is still rubbing the spot where Geto smacked him. “…what? me??” he sputters, looking around like he’s been framed. “you know I wouldn’t do that.” He suddenly walks over to you, slipping his arms around you from behind, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m hurt, bunny…” he murmurs dramatically. “why would you think that about me?”

And annoyingly… you can feel yourself melting a little at the tone. You glance at him over your shoulder. “then you promise?”

He nods immediately. “Yes, of courseee. anything bunny says,” he sighs, clinging to you like some wounded saint. “I’m at your feet, love.”

You bite back a smile at the performance.

“So it’s a yes, then?” Geto asks, amused.

You nod. “Mhmm.”

And that was all it took.

*****

You should’ve known the moment Gojo’s eyes lit up at the words "free use" that it wouldn’t be a simple arrangement. Not with him. He wasn’t just using you, he was inventing ways to do it.

There wasn’t a day you weren’t spread, bent, licked, fucked, or made to sit pretty just for him. It didn’t even matter if he got off every time, half the time, it was just about teasing you with how wet and eager you got from nothing but his voice and those sinful, sweet lies he whispered like prayers.

It didn’t take long after the agreement for Gojo to establish himself as the most shameless user of it. He wasn’t like Toji, who took you rough and fast, or Nanami, who kept it scheduled and efficient. Gojo was… playful. Cruel. Creative in a way that had your legs trembling all day, because you never knew when or how he’d act on it.

And he never asked twice. You were sitting on his lap while having dinner. Toji was scarfing down grilled chicken. Nanami talked bills with Geto. No one pretended to bat an eye when Gojo tapped against your thigh and asked you to get under the table. You obeyed, ofcourse and when your knees hit the floor, he pushed your head between his legs.

“C’mon, bunny,” he whispered, lifting the tablecloth. “don’t be shy. everyone knows what’s going on. might as well put that pretty mouth to work.”

You blushed as you stared up at him, smiling like a prince, eyes shining with mischief.

“I’ll feed you dessert after,” he cooed. “promise.” He kept his voice sweet even when he was being filthy, guiding your head down as he undid his pants and pulled his cock free, already hard and twitching. "open up, baby. lick it for me," he whispered. His cock already out, flushed pink and leaking as he hissed quietly from the contact of your mouth. “yeah, just like that… ohh—fuck, bunny...”

He didn’t move. Just let you do all the work, letting his hand curl in your hair lazily, fingers toying with you while he continued chatting with the others.

“Mm—Nanamin, pass the rice, yeah?” he said casually, even as your lips were stretched around him. You whimpered around his length when he praised you, even while chewing food. “atta girl. gag on it, baby. I’ll cum right down your throat if you’re good.”

And he did as he promised. Just a soft grunt, one hand fisting in your hair as hot cum spilled into your mouth. He made you swallow every drop, then kissed your forehead and said, “you can come out now, bunny. I saved you some cake.”

*****

Few hours later. You were on the couch, scrolling on your phone, wearing nothing but a loose tshirt and panties. Gojo walked in, eating an ice pop, eyes lighting up the second he saw you.

“Oh?” he grinned. “doing nothing, huh? perfect.” He didn’t even ask. Just walked over, lifted your legs, and pressed them to your chest, kneeling between them. Your panties disappeared in seconds.

“Let me just…” He reached down and spread you open with his fingers, licking his lips. “god, you’re already so wet. were you waiting for me?”

You shook your head. “I wasn’t—”

“You were, though,” he cut in, slipping two fingers inside you without warning. “you’re always ready for me. that’s what I love about you, bunny, so needy, and you don’t even know it.” He started fingering you hard, fast, knuckles slapping wetly against your folds as he leaned in close, whispering, “you want me to cum on your tummy? yeah?”

You moaned, grinding down on his hand. “you like that?” he smirked. “like being ruined just a little bit every day? like being my little free-use bunny?”

He kissed you hard when you came, then jerked off right there, painted your belly in white, then pulled your tank down over it.

Another time, you were brushing your hair in the bathroom when Gojo slid in behind you and locked the door. “don’t move,” he said with a grin. “I wanna see something.” He bent you over the sink and pulled your panties down with a snap. One hand pinned your wrists to the counter. He kept eye contact with you in the mirror as he pulled his cock out and rubbed it slowly between your folds.

“Look how pretty you are like this,” he whispered. “fucked-out face and messy hair. my pretty baby, all mine.”

He didn’t fuck you right away. He just rutted between your thighs, humping you like a needy boy, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit. “you love lettin' me fuck you in front of the whole house, don't you?” he purred. “let me ruin you on the kitchen table, or in front of Nanamin while he reads his paper.”

You whined, eyes locked on his in the mirror.

“Say it, baby,” he said, kissing your shoulder. “say you love it.”

“I-I love itt…”

“louder.”

“I love it, toru—!”

He groaned, pulled out, and came all over your ass, panting like he’d just run a mile. “god, I’m addicted to you,” he whispered.

He was becoming more insatiable. On another lazy afternoon, Toji was asleep on the couch. Geto read a book across from him. Nanami was working at the table. Gojo walked in, plopped beside you, and grinned. “bunny. legs up. show me.”

You blinked. “here? like right now—?”

He leaned close, voice low. “It’s fine, isn’t it? don’t tell me you’re shy now.”

He didn’t even wait and hiked your shirt up, pulled ur shorts down and pushed your legs open wide, revealing your slick, swollen pussy. “fuckkkkk, that’s what I needed,” he moaned, reaching down to palm himself. “god, you’re dripping…” he didn’t even touch you, just jerked off, watching between your legs like it was porn, filthy groans escaping his lips.

“Rub your clit for me,” he begged, voice soft and sweet. “please, bunny. let me see how you play with it.”

You did just that and he came all over his own stomach while panting your name, then wiped himself off and winked as he rewarded you with a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Later that night, you were curled up in bed when Gojo slipped in, shirtless and pouting. “you let Nanamin cuddle you that night,” he whined. “not fair.”

You looked confused at him spewing bullshit. “..when?…”

“doesn't matter anymore. let me cuddle you and hump you a little,” he whispered, already pulling you into his lap. “I’ll be good. I won’t even stick it in. just wanna rub on your cute pussy.”

He lifted your nightdress, pulled his cock out, and started grinding against your folds, soft and slow. “mmhmm.. like that…” he whispered in your ear. “missed you. missed how you smell. how you feel. how you whimper when I kiss your neck.”

"But you just... in the evening..."

He shut you up with a kiss on your neck, "not enough... not even close..."

You were soaked within seconds. He licked your shoulder, breathed heavily behind you, humping slow and desperate. “I love you, y’know?” he whispered, voice cracking. "so damn much, even if I’m a freak. even if I use you a lot. you’re my favorite thing in the world.”

For a moment you almost went blank. There it is again, this damn boy and his damn sweet talk. Always saying things at the worst possible moment, voice soft and broken like he doesn’t even realize how much power those words have over you.

One could argue that's he's manipulating, that it's bullshit, but you know it’s not just that. Because when you look at his eyes, soft and wide, completely ruined with something that looks a lot like love. And that’s the problem. Like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, like he can’t quite believe he gets to touch you, hold you like this, it melts right through every bit of resistance you have left.

Your stomach twists, heat rushing through you all over again as you clenched around nothing. He came between your thighs and stayed there, nuzzling your hair, chanting 'love you' like a prayer in your ears.

He had no shame. no limits. just sweet, filthy worship that left you dripping, ruined, and never sure what he’d do next. His attention was always on you and you loved it.

It became a ritual, how he’d wake you. "morning, bunny," he’d purr, already under the covers, lips wrapped around your nipples while you were still half asleep. His hands would be between your thighs, prying them apart with practiced ease. "mmm. taste so good."

Other mornings, you’d open your eyes to find your hands tied with one of his shirts, your panties pushed aside while he rubbed the thick head of his cock along your slit lazily. "don’t worry, bunny," he'd whisper, "I'm not gonna fuck you yet. just wanna feel you. that cute cunt always hugs me so sweet in the morning like it missed me overnight."

And god, did he make a show of not fucking you. He’d get you soaked and shaking, right at the edge, then smirk and say, “oops. late for breakfast. later, bunny.”

He’d leave you leaking into the sheets with a kiss on your forehead and a promise to “make it up to you” which he always did.

Sometimes it wasn’t even about sex, it was about his obsession with you. Like the time he ordered you to sit in front of the mirror, legs open, while he drew little hearts on your inner thighs with red lipstick. Or the time he slipped a vibrator into your panties, turned it on low, and sent you to bring water to Nanami, giggling as he watched from the couch.

“She’s got a surprise down there, Nanamin,” he teased as Nanami rolled his eyes muttering under his breath, that sounded a lot like 'gonna kill that bastard one day.'

There were nights he couldn’t sleep without you. You’d sneak off to bed early only to wake up to Gojo crawling into bed, his breath hot, hands already down your shirt.

“Need youuu,” he murmured. “just a taste. promise.” He almost never lets you sleep. would eat you out lazily, sweetly, muttering filth against your thighs like, “wanna hear you whimper, princess,” and “this pussy misses me when I’m not around, doesn’t she?”

When you came too hard, legs shaking, he’d press kisses over your clit, whispering “good girl” over and over like he's talking straight to your cunt, jerking himself off with one hand until his cum splattered everywhere.

He's fine as long as he gets anything. He’d fuck your thighs. your tits. your mouth. whatever you’d give him. whatever he could get. and he’d praise you through every stroke like he was in love and possessed at the same time.

“Just a little more tomorrow, yeah?” he'd always ask after, confident that you'd always say yes. And he was right about that too.

*****

Gojo had always been too much, but now he became something else entirely. something unhinged. he wasn’t just using you, he was devouring you, every part of you, all day, every day, with that same sugar-sweet voice and pretty blue eyes full of love that masked the fact he was a walking, talking, sex maniac.

You couldn’t walk into a room without him turning it into his personal fantasy. He’d fuck you over the sink while brushing his teeth, his mouth full of foam, smearing it along your neck as he groaned, “I knew you were gonna look hot in these shorts today, baby… you wear ‘em just for me?”

Sometimes he didn’t even bother touching you. He’d jerk off just watching you, when you were sleeping, when you were reading, when you were just curled up on the couch in a big shirt with your legs tucked under you. He’d sit across from you, eyes glazed, fist working his cock under a blanket like he didn’t care who noticed.

“you don’t even need to do anything,” he’d sigh. “just exist. that’s all it takes, angel. just sit there and let me cum all over myself like the pathetic little perv I am, yeah?”

And he’d do it. But it wasn’t always just for himself. There were times he’d bend you over the table three times before dinner, tongue buried deep between your legs like he was starving, whimpering sweet nothings against your cunt.

“ngh—don’t run, don’t move, baby, just let me—fuck, you taste so good today, did you eat fruit or something? you always taste sweeter after mangoes. god, I love you—love your pussy, love your thighs, love the way you go all dumb and whiny for me—”

By the time the day ends, your legs would be shaking as you're half-asleep on the couch while Gojo was still wide-eyed and grinning, pawing at you like a cat in heat.

He wasn’t rough. Never hurt you. That was the worst part, he was so gentle about it, so loving, always kissing your cheeks and whispering praise, coaxing you through orgasm after orgasm like it was nothing.

“Still with me, pretty girl? I know it’s the third time, but I swear this one’s gonna be the best, please, just one more, and I’ll let you nap on my chest all night, promise.” He’d say that. Then ten minutes later he’d be hard again.

At first you loved it.

The way he's obsessed with you like a maniac. How his world revolved around you. How all his energy and attention went straight to you. The way he spoils you. The way he comes home right after work so he could cuddle you, love you or bend you over and fuck you right after.

But you couldn't lie, it was getting a bit too much. You were exhausted. Thighs ached. Voice went hoarse. Couldn’t focus on anything. You’d try to make breakfast and Gojo would come up behind you, cock already hard in his shorts, and start grinding against your ass while pretending he was just trying to reach the kettle.

“Oops. sorry, baby. It’s just so warm back here… don’t mind me.”

But it never stopped there. His “just one more time” turned into two, then three, then more. You loved your personal space, Gojo also loved your personal space. And when you finally gathered the nerve to talk to him, you sat him down gently and said, “Satoru… listen to me, okay? maybe uhmm.... we could take it slow for a few days? just a little?”

He blinked. Then tilted his head and gave you that look, the big, glassy, hurt-puppy stare.

“...what’s wrong, baby? don’t I make you feel good?”

“I’m not hurting you, am I? I’m always so careful…”

“you don’t love me anymore? that’s it, right? you love Suguru more now? Or Nanami? I knew it. It’s Toji, isn’t it?”

He rambled like that for ten straight minutes while you panicked and backtracked, apologizing and hugging him, promising that you loved him more than anything. And so… you never brought it up again.

But it didn't go unnoticed. Geto saw the way your legs trembled. Nanami caught you dozing off mid-task. When you complained to Geto—quietly, while Gojo was out, that he's being too much, he’d simply nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”

And so they did. It all came to a head the next evening. You were folding laundry in the living room, soft music playing in the background, Geto and Nanami nearby. Toji was resting on the recliner. Then came the sound of the door slamming. Gojo stumbled in, sweaty from a jog, plastic bag swinging from one hand, his hair stuck to his forehead. He was muttering to himself, something about getting the sweet you liked and didn’t even take off his shoes before he tossed the bag aside, palming his crotch, and started marching toward you like a man on mission.

“Bunnyy,” he panted, “missed you so fucking much—lemme just—just a quick one, need you—can’t think—”

His eyes were glazed, pupils blown wide. He was panting like a man possessed, shirt damp, skin flushed, as he started crossing the room. Before he could get two steps closer, a hand shot out and grabbed him by the collar. Toji.

With one swift yank, he dragged Gojo back like an unruly mutt and tossed him bodily onto the couch. Gojo landed with a grunt, flopping like a ragdoll. “what the fuck, Toji?!” he groaned, sitting up, hair even messier than before.

“You need to fuckin' cool it,” Toji snapped. “you’ve been walking around with your dick out more than your clothes this week.”

Gojo blinked. “okay, but… who's complaining?”

“Her! she’s fucking fed up with you.”

“Heyyy, that ain't true, I’m gentle—!”

“And constant,” Nanami cut in, calm but sharp. “there’s a difference between loving and smothering, Gojo.”

Gojo’s jaw clenched. He looked to you wide-eyed, breathless, heart in his throat. Yeah, here it comes. “you said you liked it… I make you feel good…”

“And now she’s barely sleeping,” Geto said, sighing. “You have no off switch. It’s too much.”

“She didn’t say anything—!”

“Because every time she tries, you guilt her,” Nanami said flatly. “you twist it into something it’s not. that’s manipulative.”

“I just… I just love her so much…”

“We all do,” Toji said, rubbing his temples. “but if you keep acting like you’re the only one, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Gojo slumped back against the couch, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily. “…can I at least jerk off while watching her then?” he muttered.

“Toji, hold him down.” Nanami snapped.

“Oh for fuck’s sake—”

*****

Gojo's still sitting on the couch, legs spread like he owned the place, flushed and breathing heavily as if he had been the one unfairly manhandled.

“I seriously don’t get what the big deal is,” he muttered, lip jutting out in a pout. “she likes it. she lets me and she moans. I’m gentle. you guys are just pissed because she loves me the most.”

There was a pause before Toji’s head turned, slow and sharp, like a predator hearing a challenge. “the fuck did you just say?”

“I said,” Gojo grinned, too smug for his own good, “she loves me the most. that’s why you’re all mad. you don’t see her face when I make her cum. you don’t hear the little sounds she makes when I eat her out till she cries. you don’t know the way she grabs my hair like she’s gonna die without me. that’s love, baby.”

Toji was already on his feet, cracking his neck. “wanna say that again?”

“You mad, Toji?” Gojo smirked. “didn’t get enough last time you begged to taste her? want me to describe how she sounds when she—”

"You fucker—" Toji was ready to throw hands.

“Toji,” Nanami said firmly, hand on his chest. “don’t.”

Toji growled but stayed still, eyes burning holes through Gojo as he huffed, crossing his arms. “everyone does the free-use thing. so why am I the only one getting ganged up on like this? you guys fuck her too. why aren’t you all getting dragged? huh?”

“Because none of us are fucking her four times a day,” Geto snapped.

Gojo blinked. “that’s not true. maybe three.”

“Do you want the list?” Nanami asked, deadpan.

Gojo shrugged. “go ahead. bet none of it sounds that bad.”

Nanami sighed. “fine. you asked.” He held up one finger. “last wednesday. you fucked her in the laundry room on top of the detergent. the cap was still open. It spilled. she sat in it, cause you wouldn't fuckin' stop.”

Gojo shrugged. “It was hypoallergenic. also, she said she was cold, I was trying to keep her warm.”

Toji rubbed his temples. Geto jumped in. “that same day, you asked her to hold your cock in her mouth while you played video games. you told her it was ‘bonding’ and if she loved you, she’d keep it warm until the match ended.”

Gojo raised his hand, as if correcting a fact. “first of all, it was two matches. and second, it was bonding. she was humming. that’s, like, advanced affection.”

Nanami glared. “she was humming because she couldn’t breathe and was trying to make noise.”

Gojo blinked. “...details.”

Toji snorted. “for fuck's sake. remember sunday brunch? we were all eating. you kept fingering her under the table. she dropped her goddamn fork. three times.”

“She looked pretty,” Gojo replied defensively. “and I was helping her relax. you know how she gets nervous during meals.”

“She choked on her food,” Toji snapped.

“She’s clumsy!” Gojo threw his hands up. “I was gonna Heimlich her if it got bad. jeez.”

Geto leaned forward. “the time you smeared whipped cream on her tits at 3 am because you ‘wanted dessert’—”

“Oh, come on,” Gojo cut in, “that one was romantic. It was her birthday.”

“Her birthday is nowhere near.”

Gojo blinked. “...time is an illusion?”

Toji looked like he was about to lunge again. Nanami just pinched the bridge of his nose. Geto sighed. “you literally humped her thigh while she was napping on the beanbag. you thought we didn’t see, but the mirror caught it.”

“She looked like she wanted it!”

“In her sleep?”

Gojo shrugged. “consent is forever.”

Toji hissed through his teeth. “oh I’m gonna fuckin'—”

Nanami stepped in. “Toji.”

Gojo was on a roll now, clearly doubling down. “y’all are just mad cause she cuddles me more. she tells me she loves me every night. I don’t hear her saying that to any of you.”

“Because you make her say it,” Geto growled. “while your cock’s down her throat.”

Gojo smiled like that was a compliment. “well, well.”

Nanami finally threw his hands up. “I can’t. I literally cannot listen to this anymore.”

“C’mon, Nanamin—”

“No.”

Nanami stood. “I’m done arguing with a mutt in heat.”

“Hey!!!! I’m not a mutt!”

“Yes you are. and you hump things indiscriminately.”

Gojo looked offended. “that’s offensive.”

Toji burst out laughing. Nanami shook his head and turned to leave.

“Where you going?” Geto asked.

“To my room,” Nanami muttered. “I’d rather listen to cursed audio of Gojo moaning than hear another excuse for why he thought fucking her against the fridge during a blackout was a good idea.”

Gojo pointed at Geto. “that one was your idea!”

“When the fuck did I say that??!!”

Nanami disappeared down the hall and slammed his door shut. Toji sat back down, rubbing his jaw. “I swear, if you keep this up, I’m gonna staple your dick to the floor.”

Gojo crossed his legs dramatically. “you’re all bullies.”

Geto flopped next to you, pulled you onto his lap, and whispered, “you okay, sweetheart?” you nodded, half amused, half dazed from the chaos.

Gojo pouted from across the room.“she still loves me the most,” he muttered.

Toji picked up a sock and threw it at his face.

*****

Few minutes passed.

Gojo stayed on the couch, unmoving, as if he were mourning something sacred. Long limbs sprawled across the cushions dramatically, one arm draped over his eyes like he was in the final scene of a tragic romance. The sock Toji had thrown at him was still resting on his chest.

No one said anything for a while. You were curled into Geto’s lap, and he was gently stroking your back, murmuring something soft into your ear while Toji looked through his phone like none of this ever happened. Then Gojo let out the most obnoxiously loud sigh you’d ever heard.

“…no one even cares that I’m hurt,” he said, voice shaking slightly. “no one’s asking how I’m doing. how I’m feeling.”

Toji didn’t even glance up. “you tried to stick your dick into her while she was folding towels.”

“And you tackled me!” Gojo flailed his arms. “I have bruises! my hip hit the corner of the goddamn table! you think this is easy for me?”

“You think this—” Toji gestured at you, limp in Geto’s lap, your shirt slightly stretched and your thighs marked up with faint bruises from earlier— “is easy for her?”

“She’s glowing,” Gojo said stubbornly.

“She’s fading,” Geto corrected flatly. “she almost fell asleep while chewing cereal this morning.”

“I was just giving her vitamins,” Gojo muttered.

“By fucking them into her at sunrise?” Geto scoffed.

Gojo pouted harder, then slowly slid down the couch like a melting popsicle, his ass nearly hanging off the edge now.

“I’m not even horny right now,” he whispered. Everyone stared at him. “…I just wanted to cuddle.”

“Go to bed,” Toji said.

Gojo didn’t move. “you’re all gonna brainwash her against me. that’s what this is. you want her to stop loving me.”

Geto rolled his eyes. “no one’s plotting against you, jerk.”

“I saw how she smiled at Nanamin yesterday.”

“I smile at everyone,” you said weakly, voice still raspy from earlier.

Gojo turned his head toward you slowly, like a ghost haunting a Victorian home. “but you smiled at him differently.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Toji muttered under his breath.

“I can’t help it if I’m just more sensitive,” Gojo continued, now curled into fetal position, pulling the sock onto his hand like a puppet. “you guys don’t get it. she’s everything to me. every time I touch her, it’s like a religious experience.”

“You came in your pants before even touching her last night,” Geto said.

“Exactly!” Gojo looked betrayed that Geto didn’t see the poetry in that. “that’s how powerful it is. I don’t need any of you to understand.” He turned toward you again, lip trembling like he was really about to cry.

“Bunnnny,” he whispered, crawling across the couch like a sad, horny panther. “you still love me, right? you still want me? I’m your good boy, yeah?”

Geto narrowed his eyes. “don’t answer that.”

Gojo sat upright again with a loud huff, legs crossed, arms folded. “…I’m just gonna sleep on the floor then. right here. naked. maybe she’ll trip on me and accidentally fall into my mouth. oh no. how tragic.”

Toji grabbed a pillow and smacked him in the face. Gojo let himself fall backward with a grunt, now fully stretched out and muttering under his breath. “you’re all just jealous. she loves me the most. she said it while I was balls deep and sucking her tits last day. that’s basically a marriage vow.”

“I’m gonna shove that sock in your mouth,” Toji muttered.

“Not before she shoves her tits in my mouth,” Gojo sing-songed, wagging his tongue.

“Enough,” Geto said finally, shifting you onto the couch next to him and standing. He walked over and pulled Gojo up by the shirt collar. “you wanna prove you’re not just a sex-crazed lunatic? then back off and let her rest. give her at least one full day without any of your dick-stupid antics.”

Gojo blinked. “what if I just cuddle her with my dick out?”

“Satoru.”

“…okay, fine.” He deflated again. “but only because I love her more than any of you.”

Toji kicked a cushion at his head.

“I will. and I’ll make her say it too, next time she’s gagging on—”

Geto clapped a hand over his mouth and started dragging him away by the collar. Gojo muffled something that sounded suspiciously like “jealous losers.”

You let out a breath, eyes fluttering closed. “…I'm gonna get some sleep.” you mumbled.

Toji sat beside you, brushing your hair back with surprising gentleness. “sleep, baby. he’ll still be dumb when you wake up.”

to be continued in the next chapter

comment down to get tagged in upcoming chapters.

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more?

pairing : jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : dubcon themes, degradation, humiliation, group sex, oral (m & f receiving), cum play, overstimulation, orgasm denial, rough language, spanking, reader is submissive. minors dni, 18+ content.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 9

Next weekend arrived like a slow burn, warm and lazy.

Gojo was the first to stir chaos. He barged into the living room wearing loose pajama pants and an open robe with no shirt, a bottle of something suspiciously strong dangling from his fingers.

“Game night, babies,” he sang, flopping onto the couch. “but not your average one. this time, truth or dare, filthy edition.”

You blinked, mid-sip of your soda. “filthy?”

“To the bone,” Gojo winked, already tossing couch cushions on the floor into a makeshift circle.

Toji, who was leaning against the wall, dragged on a cigarette and exhaled slowly. “he means nasty. as in, none of that ‘what’s your favorite color’ bullshit.” He glanced at you with a crooked grin. you just... pretended you didn't see that.

Geto was amused, sipping his whiskey on the armrest of the couch. “filthy, huh?” he looked at you, voice low and smooth. “you sure you can handle it, princess?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Gojo clapped his hands together. “let’s find out!”

Eventually, everyone gathered, Gojo cross-legged, practically bouncing with excitement; Geto lounging like a panther with a lazy smirk; Toji sprawling with legs wide open, looking half-bored; and Nanami, sitting at the very edge of the couch like he had one foot ready to bolt.

“I’m just gonna watch,” Nanami clarified, straightening his back.

Gojo gave him a sugary grin. “oh, you’ll play, Nanamin. don’t act like you’re any better than the rest of us. I know what you do behind closed doors.”

You felt a flicker of nervous energy race through you as the bottle was placed in the center. Gojo spun it lazily and turned to Geto first.

“Suguru,” he grinned. “truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Geto answered, swirling his drink like it was just another night at a cocktail bar.

Gojo leaned forward. “did you or did you not eat her out while she was still recovering from the fever?”

You nearly choked on your drink, eyes widening. Geto’s gaze didn’t waver. “truth? I did.” he turned to you, voice dropping into a purr. “she needed help sleeping. didn’t you, baby?”

You flushed shaking your head, body tingling with heat. "shut uppp, suguru....."

Nanami stiffened beside you, clearly biting back something sharp. “unbelievable,” he muttered, standing like he’d had enough.

But Gojo waved him back down with an overly innocent grin. “nope. sit. you don’t get to walk away all clean-handed, Nanamin.”

Toji exhaled a dry laugh. “yeah, golden boy. just ‘cause you do your shit quietly doesn’t mean you’re a saint.”

Nanami’s jaw clenched, but he sat back down silently, brows furrowed.

Gojo turned smoothly to Toji. “truth or dare?”

Toji huffed. “truth.”

“Be honest,” Gojo said, lifting his glass. “did you come in her the first time? or did you pull out?”

Silence fell and you froze, caught in the tension crackling through the room. Toji didn’t blink. “wasn't it obvious enough when I brought her the pill?” he said, rough and unapologetic.

Your face burned. Nanami’s knuckles were white where they curled into fists. Gojo smirked at you, clearly enjoying your flushed, squirming reaction. “your turn, baby girl. truth or dare?”

You hesitated and just chose the better option. “...truth.”

Gojo leaned close, lips brushing your ear. “who makes you cum the hardest?”

You felt all their eyes on you. Nanami's stare was unreadable. Geto looked amused. Toji raised a brow, and Gojo just watched you with that maddening grin.

You licked your lips, heart racing. “..well...I don't know...”

A collective groan filled the room, Gojo dramatically flopped backward, Geto laughed, Toji muttered something like "cop out," and Nanami just pressed his lips together.

Geto handed the bottle to Nanami. “your turn.”

Nanami narrowed his eyes. “truth.”

Gojo jumped in immediately. “where do you wanna cum next time, her mouth, tits, or in her cunt?”

Nanami looked like a storm was about to break, but Gojo was already wagging a finger. “don’t walk away, Nanamin. own it.”

Nanami’s fists were clenched at his sides before he finally exhaled. “this is ridiculous—"

"Say it."

"...In her.”

Toji raised his brows. Geto let out a low whistle. Gojo clinked his bottle against the whiskey glass. “cheers to filthy truths.”

You squirmed, the tension simmering in your stomach. The room was heavy with want, too many eyes worth of lust boiling just beneath the surface. Gojo leaned in again, brushing your thigh.

“Think you can handle a few dares next?” he whispered. “I’ve got a few ideas that’ll make you forget how to walk.”

You didn’t answer. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you already felt your body betraying you with the way it heated up under the weight of every gaze in that room.

Toji leaned forward then, flicking ash from his cigarette into an empty cup. “she’s already halfway there,” he muttered, eyes trailing down your legs.

Geto grinned, his voice like velvet. “let’s see how far we can push.”

Gojo held the bottle again, spinning it slowly. Your stomach fluttered and not from the drink. You had a feeling you wouldn’t last the night untouched. His smirk never faded. “alright. enough dramatics.” He clapped his hands, loud and final. “let’s keep playing. she’s blushing like a virgin.”

You wanted to disappear into the floor. Nanami didn’t say anything, but his eyes stayed fixed on you. Toji poured himself another drink, legs spread lazily. Geto shifted beside you and toyed with the hem of your shirt.

Gojo spun the bottle again. It landed on you.

“Oh, perfect.” Gojo beamed. “truth or dare, angel?”

You swallowed hard. “truth?”

“To ease you in,” he cooed. “fair. hmm… okay—when Nanami fucked you, did you touch yourself after? replay it in your head and make yourself cum like a needy little thing?”

Everyone was watching you. Heat crawled up your body like fire. You didn't say anything, just nodded and that was enough for them. Nanami exhaled sharply like he didn't know what to make out of that information.

“Shit,” Geto said lowly. “she’s such a good girl.”

“She is,” Gojo whispered, eyes gleaming. “but let’s see how good.”

He spun the bottle again. It landed on Nanami. Gojo didn’t miss a beat. “dare.”

“I’m not—”

“It’s a dare, Nanamin,” Gojo teased. “you can’t back out now.”

Nanami’s eyes narrowed. “what.”

Gojo raised a brow. “I dare you to kneel between her legs… and give her the slowest, gentlest titjob ever. no sucking. just hands. let her feel how much you love those perfect tits you can’t stop staring at.”

You eyes went wide, thighs pressing together. Nanami was frozen.

Toji laughed. “come on, mr. morals. she liked it before. she will like it again.”

Nanami knelt and you sighed, but didn’t stop him. His hands were big and warm, sliding up under your shirt. He didn’t rush, didn’t speak. He pushed the fabric up, revealing your bare chest. Your nipples tightened under the cold air. He cupped your breasts slowly. Reverently as if they were fragile. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, making you flinch. He watched your face, your parted lips, the way your breath caught when he gently pushed your tits together and dragged his knuckles down your cleavage.

“So soft,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

Gojo hummed. “and she lets anyone touch her like this? what a sweet little whore.”

You squirmed but didn’t move away.

Geto leaned into your ear. “truth or dare, baby?”

"umm...truth...."

"Come on..choose dare...please...for me?" Gojo pleaded.

“Okay… dare.”

“I dare you to get into that slutty little lingerie set Gojo bought last week. The one you swore you’d never wear.” Geto's voice dropped. “go put it on. and you stay in it till the game ends.”

Your eyes widened, you had hidden that set under your socks—red lace, no cups, see-through crotch. It was a display, not clothing.

“But—”

“No backing out,” Gojo said with a grin. “you chose dare.”

“Do you want help putting it on?” Geto whispered. You shook your head, trembling as you walked to your room, heart racing.

A few minutes later… you walked out barefoot, in nothing but red string and lace. The cups were just wire framing your breasts, pushing them up but exposing them fully. The see-through thong draped over your mound but left you completely open. The garter straps dangled uselessly against your thighs.

The room fell silent.

Toji whistled low. “fuck.”

Nanami was stiff. His grip hard on the glass in his hand. Gojo groaned. “goddamn. you really are a little slut. I love it.”

You sat back down, cheeks on fire. Gojo spun the bottle again. It landed on Toji. “truth or dare, daddy?”

Toji grinned. “dare.”

Gojo licked his lips. “finger her till she starts crying. no kissing tho.”

You didn't oppose. Toji didn’t hesitate either. He crawled across the floor to you, yanked your knees apart, and slipped a thick finger moving the thong to the side. You moaned instantly. He was rough, slow but cruel. Rubbing tight circles, then sliding in two fingers without warning. You grabbed Nanami’s knee for support.

“She’s already soaked,” Toji muttered. “you’re such a dirty girl.”

Your hips rolled forward, eyes fluttering. Geto tilted your face toward him.“keep your eyes open, baby. look at us while he rubs you.”

Toji kept curling his fingers just right. Your stomach was clenching, body jerking. Tears welled in your eyes. You moaned loud, so embarassed, Gojo was watching like a predator, Geto stroked your cheek, and Nanami was frozen with guilt and desire.

“Such a fucking mess,” Gojo whispered. “we’re gonna break you.”

You cried out as your orgasm hit, loud and soaking. Your body twitched, and your legs trembled. Toji withdrew his fingers, slow and wet, licking them clean.

“Bottle’s turn,” Gojo said, breathless. “let’s keep going. we ain't done yet.”

The bottle spun lazily, clicking on the floor, your thighs still shaking from the last round. Your chest heaved in the slutty red lingerie, nipples exposed, thong soaked, garter straps brushing your skin. It landed on Gojo.

“Ohhh, me?” Gojo grinned like a devil. “okay, let’s be generous. truth me, baby.”

Toji leaned back, his thick arms stretched behind his head. “did you jerk off the first night she moved in?”

Gojo didn’t flinch. “obviously. twice.”

You mouth fell open, hands flying to cover your mouth. "satoru, you!!"

“Hehe, sorry, not sorry, bunny, but I lasted longer than I thought,” he added. “because I imagined you like this—dripping and slutty in red lace.” He leaned toward you. “you like being the center of attention, huh? everyone watching your tits bounce while they make you cum?”

"Stopp it, Toru—" you mumble, pushing weakly at his chest while he just hums, burying his face into your neck to steal one quick kiss before pulling back, far too pleased with himself.

“Truth or dare, baby?” he asked you, smug and cruel.

“…dare.”

Gojo’s eyes glinted. “I dare you to crawl into my lap and sit on my cock. but you don’t get to cum. strip the thong,” he whispered. “then come sit like a good little thing.”

"Fine..." you shakily hooked your fingers in the wet lace and slid it off. Gojo pulled down his pants, cock already hard and leaking. He pulled it out and guided you to straddle him, one hand on your waist, the other squeezing your ass. You spread your cunt carefully with two fingers and sank onto him slow, stretching full, letting out a shivery moan. He bottomed out, hands locking around you tight.

“No riding. no grinding. you just sit.” His cock throbbed inside you as you moaned softly against his neck.

Gojo turned to Nanami. “your spin.”

Nanami looked like he was going to explode, watching you sink onto Gojo's cock like a little slut, his hands clenched, sweat beading on his temple. It landed on Geto.

“Truth or dare,” Nanami said, voice tight.

Geto smiled. “dare.”

Toji's jaw clenched. “eat her out."

You gasped. “now?”

Gojo stroked your thigh. “ofcourse, don’t say no, baby. It’s just a dare.”

His grip is iron on your hips as he spins you on his cock like you weigh nothing, your back slamming flush against his hard chest, sweat-slick skin sticking together. He hooks his hands under your thighs and yanks your legs wide, really wide like he’s presenting you on a fucking altar, cunt glistening and stretched around him, offered up to Geto with that smug, filthy little grin.

Geto moved in front of you on his knees. He curled one arm around your waist to hold you steady, then ducked down. His tongue flicked over your clit in long, slow strokes, the wet sounds obscene between your thighs, while your poor cunt was still full of Gojo's cock. You moaned helplessly. Geto held your hips still.

“No moving,” he whispered. “you’re just getting licked. that’s fine, right?”

Geto lapped at your clit mercilessly, flicking and sucking, moaning into your cunt like he was drunk on it. You grabbed his hair pressing his face into your cunt, chasing that familiar high as your body trembled. “p-please—”

“Still not allowed to cum,” Gojo cooed. “poor baby.”

Geto pulled away with your slick all over his lips. “she tastes like heaven.”

You pout up at Geto, clearly offended by him being so mean. He only grins wider, winking like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

The bottle spun again. This time, Toji.

“Truth or dare?” Gojo asked.

“Dare.”

Gojo grinned. “strip. and hump her from behind. don't put it in, though.” As he pulls out slow, torturously slow, thick cock dragging every sensitive inch until he’s gone and you’re whining, clenching around nothing, lips parting on a desperate little sound. He leans in, pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your neck, sucking hard enough to bruise.

Toji stood, already pulling down his pants. His hands clamp your waist like a vice as he yanks you forward, flipping you onto your stomach so your cheek smashes into the carpet, then hauls your hips high, ass up and presented, knees shoved wide. He grabbed the base of his cock and knelt behind you. His thick length pressed against your cunt, sliding between your folds, rutting slow and filthy. He groaned. “fuck, soft.”

He humped you like an animal, messy, desperate, his cock smearing precum all over your cunt.

“You’re a pretty little fucktoy,” Gojo leaned down and whispered in your ear. “so obedient.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head, moaning louder. They all groaned at once. The bottle spun again.

Gojo grinned wide. “my turn to call it. truth or dare, bunny?”

You couldn’t speak. Just whimpered. He grabbed your face gently. “Truth or dare, sweetheart?”

“… dare…”

“Good girl. I dare you to suck Nanami’s cock. just lean down and take him in your mouth. he’s been waiting with blue balls.”

Nanami’s eyes burned. You obeyed. Crawled between Nanami’s spread knees like a good little pup.

"You're fine?" He asked rubbing your cheeks gently. And you—almost like you’re testing the man’s restraint—lean down and press your cheek against his crotch, rubbing against the firm outline there as you tilt your head up at him, eyes wide and glassy, all doe-eyed and teasing. That was all he needed. He unzipped and pulled out his cock for you. He was already hard, thick and flushed. You wrapped your lips around him, trembling.

“Fuck—” He hissed.

You bobbed gently, tongue swirling, while Gojo stroked your back. “she sucks cock like a pro now. look at her go.”

Geto watched, hand in his pants. Toji was stroking himself openly now, watching your ass bounce faintly as you sucked Nanami deeper.

Gojo groaned. “don’t you dare cum yet. we haven’t even started the dares for me.”

*****

The red lace thong lay forgotten on the floor.

You were panting from the last round—Gojo's been inside you, Geto’s tongue had worked your cunt and Toji had humped you like a dog in heat. Nanami's cock had twitched in your throat, veins pulsing under your tongue as you obediently bobbed, shy and teary-eyed. And still, the game continued.

“Alright,” Gojo hummed, helping you sit upright. He tucked himself back into his sweats with a slick grin. “that was fun. but I don’t think our little bunny here’s had enough yet.”

“You okay, princess?” Geto asked, stroking your cheek. “still with us?”

You nodded shakily.

“Then let’s keep going.” Gojo picked up the bottle again. “we’re just getting to the good part.”

The glass spun, slow and loud on the floor… and landed on Nanami.

“Truth or dare, Nanamin,” Gojo crooned.

Nanami exhaled sharply. “truth."

"Tch. you're really a bummer, just choose dare, will ya?" Gojo rolled his eyes.

"Fine. dare."

Gojo’s smile curled at the edges. “dare you to knead her tits till she cries. let’s see how long our gentleman can stay composed while squeezing the best set ever.”

"we already did that." Nanami’s jaw clenched.

"Oh, umm I don't know, do it again, maybe?" Gojo said in a mocking tone.

Nanami stood tall, imposing and walked over to you where you knelt. His hands hovered. “I’ll stop if you tell me to,” he murmured.

Well, it's not like that's gonna happen anyways , especially when it's him. He cupped both breasts in his big palms, thumbs rolling across your nipples, slowly at first. But then the pressure deepened, grinding the softness, spreading the weight, tugging at the exposed tips until your mouth dropped open in a quiet whine.

“Harder,” Gojo encouraged, voice low. “she likes it rough.”

Nanami’s knuckles flexed. He pinched one nipple and twisted gently, then harder when you didn’t pull back. Your hips twitched. His other hand grabbed the base of your breast and squeezed upward, forcing the fat toward your face.

“She’s already soaked again,” Geto murmured.

Toji smirked. “gettin’ off just from tit play? what a sweet lil whore.”

You whined. Nanami’s face looked pained, like he was holding something back, but his cock was fully hard again under his pants.

“She’s crying,” Gojo said smugly. “look at that. crying from her tits being used.”

“Spin again,” Geto urged, voice tight. This time, the bottle pointed at Toji.

“Truth or dare,” Nanami asked. His voice was rough now.

Toji’s teeth flashed. “dare.”

Gojo didn’t hesitate. “Slap her ass red. till she squeals.”

You yelped, but it was too late—Toji had you over his lap, one hand splayed across your lower back.

“Count, sweetheart,” he said lowly. “ten of ‘em.”

“O-One.”

Smack. The slap echoed, sharp and deep. Smack. Smack. Your ass jiggled violently with each hit. By five, your eyes were watering. By seven, your thighs felt weak. Ten left you panting, hips lifting off his lap as he rubbed the burn with warm hands.

“She’s all red,” Geto said, watching hungrily.

“And still wet,” Gojo said. “kinky little bitch.”

The bottle spun again. It pointed to you. Gojo leaned in. “Truth or dare, baby.”

You were breathless, your lips quivered, but you definitely wanted more from these men. “…dare.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “I dare you to crawl between Geto’s legs and suck his cock until he cums. show us how well your throat’s been trained.”

Geto let out a low groan, already undoing his pants, welcoming as you crawled towards him, cheeks hot. He guided you gently, but firmly with one hand in your hair, the other stroking your chin.

“You’re too good to me,” he whispered. You wrapped your lips around the flushed head, moaning as it slid over your tongue. He was thick and hot, salty precum already smearing your mouth. You sucked greedily, trying to impress him, hollowing your cheeks, letting your spit drip onto your tits.

“Fuck,” Geto muttered. “she’s filthy.”

“Deep throat him,” Gojo ordered.

You took a breath, then pushed down, nose brushing Geto’s pelvis, throat tightening around the intrusion. He hissed.

“Don’t cum yet,” Gojo warned. “let her choke on it.”

Geto obeyed, but only barely. He pulsed in your throat, then yanked your head back and you gasped for air.

“Open,” Geto growled. You did. He shoved back in, barely giving you time. This time he didn’t last. With a low groan, Geto came, hips twitching, cock throbbing down your throat. You swallowed instinctively, obedient even as you gagged slightly. When he pulled out, your lips were shiny and swollen. Gojo helped wipe your chin. “Good girl,” he whispered. “you’re our perfect little bunny.”

*****

Just as you were catching yourself again, the next dare dropped.

“Strip,” Toji said gruffly, eyes narrowed. “completely. keep that ass in view. I’m not done lookin’ at it.”

You peeled off the remnants of lingerie, already soaked, body trembling as you knelt there, nude, thighs glistening. The air felt cold on your flushed skin, but the four of them made it feel even hotter.

“Spin again,” Gojo said casually, twirling the bottle with one lazy finger. It pointed to himself. “oooh,” he smirked. “guess it’s my lucky night.”

“Truth or dare?” Nanami asked, though his voice was tight. He didn’t like the game anymore. But he wasn’t stopping it either for some, well "personal" reasons.

“Dare,” Gojo grinned. “obviously.”

Geto leaned in with a glint in his eye. “I dare you to hump her. no cumming. you stay hard and frustrated till the next round.”

Gojo's cock twitched in his sweats.“Bet,” he smirked, stripping in seconds. “get on your back, baby.”

You did just that, lying flat with your knees parted. Gojo hovered above you like a tease in a fever dream, his heavy cock dragging between your folds, but never pushing in.

“Let’s make it fun,” he whispered. He lined himself up… and started grinding. Not fucking, just rubbing. His slick tip nudged your clit, slid between your folds, tapped against your entrance again and again without breaching it and that had you squirming in seconds, trying to lift your hips, desperate for more, desperate to trap him inside your slick folds.

“Nope,” he grinned. “you take what I give you.” He rolled his hips slow and deep, pushing his shaft along your soaked slit, cock teasing every nerve ending. “feel that?” he murmured. “that’s how close you are to getting fucked… and I’m still not giving it to you.”

You whined in protest.

“Beg me."

You blinked up at him, lips trembling. “p-please… toruu?”

“Please what?”

“Please—need it—put it in...”

“Nuh-uh.” He leaned down and kissed your cheek sweetly. “next dare.”

The bottle spun. Landed on Nanami again. This time, Geto smirked. “dare you to lie on your back. and let her ride your face.”

Nanami’s eyes widened. He tried to stand. “this is getting ridiculous, I didn't even choose—”

Gojo’s hand landed on his shoulder. “oh, come on. don’t act like you’re innocent. you had your cock down her throat not ten minutes ago.”

Nanami’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t seem like he had plans to leave. Instead, he lay down. A few buttons of his shirt were already undone. His hands rested at his sides. Geto guided you over.

You blushed hard, trembling. “I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Nanami said quietly. “just sit. don’t worry.”

You hovered above his face, shaking. Then slowly, shamefully, you lowered your soaked cunt onto his mouth. His hands found your thighs immediately. Then—his tongue.

“Ohhhh god—” you gasped.

He licked with control, with purpose. No teasing and no games. Just slow, intense strokes of his tongue that made your toes curl and your vision go white.

Toji groaned. “she looks good like that.”

Geto leaned over, palming his cock. “fide him, baby. grind on his face. use him.”

You whimpered as nanami groaned beneath you, his mouth now locked around your clit. You couldn't help it, your hips started to move on their own. Grinding. Rolling. You were whining, humping his face like a needy thing.

“Good girl,” Gojo purred. “making a mess on our gentleman.”

Nanami sucked your clit harshly. You came hard as your body seized, thighs clenched around his face. You collapsed off him moments later, gasping, the room spinning.

“She's gonna pass out at this rate,” Toji snorted, but his cock was fully hard, bobbing with every breath.

“Spin again,” Gojo said. It landed on Toji. “truth or dare?”

He grinned. “dare.”

Geto leaned in. “Sit behind her. spread her legs. and jerk off while playing with her cunt.”

You’re almost impressed by how these two horny freaks can come up with the most ridiculous ideas on a whim, like their brains are permanently wired for trouble the second you’re around.

As the impatient man he is, Toji was already moving, settling behind you like a wolf. His broad chest pressed to your back, thick fingers reaching between your thighs.

“Open ‘em,” he growled.

You arch your back spreading your legs like a sacred offering to him. He spread your folds open, two fingers rubbing it with rough circles, wetting them with your slick. Meanwhile, his other hand stroked his cock, the heavy weight of it brushing your back.

“You hear that?” he murmured into your ear, fingers slicking over your clit. Wet. Sticky. Lewd. “that’s the sound of a little slut who loves being passed around.”

You moaned, helpless. His grip on your clit tightened, pinching and you choked on a cry. “T-Toji—!”

“Say please.”

“P-please—”

His strokes slowed. “you wanna cum?”

You nodded furiously. He let go. You cried out, trembling.

“Too bad. next round."

You are trembling from Toji’s cruel denial when Gojo snapped his fingers. “Geto. spin.”

The bottle swirled, stopped on you. Your stomach flipped. “truth,” you whispered shakily.

“Good girl,” Geto cooed. He leaned forward, dark eyes lidded with heat. “tell us the truth. whose cock do you think about the most when you’re alone?”

You froze. Mouth dry. Eyes darting between them. Gojo grinned like the devil. Nanami avoided your gaze. Toji’s jaw ticked. You swallowed. “….. please, another question,”you whined.

Gojo huffed. “Okay. dare then.”

“I didn’t spin—”

“Doesn't matter.” His eyes gleamed. “I dare you to sit on your knees, open your mouth, and let all of us use it. you can do that, right?”

Your eyes bulged out. “Satoruu, you're—”

"The fuck is wrong with yo—” Nanami snapped but gojo counters, "stop killing the mood Mr. Perfect."

Then he turned to you. “C’mon, sweetheart. be good. you know how this game works.”

Toji grabbed your hair gently and tugged you forward. “you gonna make us wait?”

You sank to your knees. Heart hammering and mouth open. Toji stepped forward first, cock thick and dripping with pre-cum. He tapped the tip against your lips, then pushed inside, deep, heavy, hot. Your mouth stretched wide.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “now that's a mouth made for cock.”

You moaned around him, tears pricking your eyes as he thrust slowly, filling your throat.

“Look at her,” Geto muttered. “taking him so well.”

Toji withdrew after a while with a pop, wiping your chin with his thumb. “Next.”

Nanami came forward, slower. More hesitant. He cupped your cheek. “you’re okay, baby? can I?” he asked softly, voice low.

You nodded quickly, tongue out. He fed you his cock with trembling restraint, not too deep, not too fast. But when your tongue flicked over the underside, he hissed.

“God—she doesn’t even know what she’s doing.”

“She’s learning,” Geto said silkily, palming himself.

Gojo crouched next to you. “she’s not gonna last another round.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Geto said. “I dare her next.”

Gojo’s brows lifted. “you already know what you want?”

Geto leaned in, hand in your hair. “I dare you to lay down and let us take turns eating you out.”

You gasped, eyes wide. “but—”

He kissed your forehead. “but nothing. you're a big girl, ain't ya?”

They laid you back on the couch like a sacrificial offering, legs wide, thighs trembling. Toji came first again, licking you open like he was starving. His stubble burned. His tongue was brutal. You cried out, writhing, too close too fast. When he pulled back, you were already begging. But Nanami replaced him without pause. His tongue was slower, deliberate, dragging long strokes from your clit to your entrance, tasting everything. He moaned low against you.

“Sweet girl,” he murmured, “you’ve been through so much already.” then his mouth locked around your clit and your back arched in shock.

“Ah—ah—please—Nanami, I can’t—s' too good!”

Geto followed. He held your thighs down, licking your folds like he was mapping every nerve. He teased, dipped his tongue just barely inside, flicked your clit gently while watching you sob.

“You gonna cum for me?” he whispered.

“Y-Yes—!”

Gojo ended it. He didn’t hold you down.He didn’t tease. He dove in with obscene slurping sounds and no shame, mouthing you like a man obsessed, tongue fucking you while rubbing your nipples just barely with a slick fingertip. You screamed as your climax shattered you, body locked, toes curled, juices running down your thighs and into Gojo’s mouth. He moaned like he was the one cumming.

“Please—nghh—please—” you sobbed. But they weren’t done. They weren't even close to being done with you.

Geto pulled you onto his lap.“you’re gonna keep my cock warm,” he said simply. “while the others take turns touching you.”

You blinked dazed, too fucked out to care and he slid in. You were soaked, body shaking. He filled you all the way, held you down on his cock, made you stay. “Just sit. stay warm,” he murmured. “that’s it.”

Nanami sat beside you. Gojo leaned on the other side. Toji knelt between your legs again.

“Let’s choose now,” Gojo whispered as he rolled your nipple between two fingers. “I get tits.”

Toji spread your legs. “I get the cunt.”

Nanami sighed. "I'll just —just kiss her."

You whined, pinned in every way, Geto’s cock throbbing inside you while other three drove you toward another edge.

“Too much?” Nanami asked as you moaned into his kiss. Toji pinched your clit. You jerked when gojo sucked a nipple into his mouth. Geto flexed his hips just once. You were a mess. Eyes rolling. Crying. Shaking. Clenching around Geto, soaking him. He groaned. “that’s it, baby. let them all see how ruined you are.”

Gojo blew cool air over your wet nipples, watching them pebble under his touch. “not yet.”

“not yet,” Geto echoed, thrusting up once, his cock massaging your inner walls with slow, punishing pressure. You whimpered, twitching in his lap, unable to do anything but take it. Nanami lowered his mouth to your breast, sucking the sensitive skin around your nipple until you keened. His tongue lashed softly before he bit, just enough to leave a mark. You bucked in Geto’s lap, overwhelmed.

“She’s going to cum,” Geto murmured.

“Again?” Gojo said again, cruelly. “so frikkin easy.”

Toji moved from between your legs and took your wrists, holding them above your head while Gojo rolled your nipples between his fingers, pinching, teasing. Nanami kissed your ribs, your neck, every soft part of you that shook.

“You’re not allowed to cum,” Gojo whispered against your ear. “hold it.”

“But—but—I need to,” you gasped, thighs twitching as Geto started rolling slow, thick thrusts up into you again.

“No cumming until we say,” Toji warned.

Geto growled. “clench like that again and I’ll paint your insides.”

You sobbed and your whole body was one raw nerve. Toji kissed you, biting your bottom lip. “you love this.”

“She loves getting played with,” Gojo hissed. “can’t say no. can’t stop. she’ll cum all over us and cry about it.”

Geto thrust up again. You came again hard without permission as you screamed, clenching around him, body locking. Another orgasm, worse than the previous, racked through your frame.

“Fuck—she just came,” Geto moaned, holding you down.

“Bunny broke the rule,” Gojo sing-songed.

Toji tsked. “you know what that means.”

You blinked through tears. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Uh uh. no mercy now.” Gojo pulled you off Geto’s lap, ignoring your whimper as his cock slipped out, your pussy leaking down. “I dare you,” Gojo said, “to take all four of us. one after the other, every hole.”

Your breath stuttered. “Too much—”

“She’s gonna pass out,” Nanami muttered.

“Then we’ll tuck her in after,” Gojo smiled, stripping the rest of his clothes off. “but not before she gives us every last drop.”

Toji stroked himself slowly. “who gets her mouth first?”

“I do,” Gojo said.

And they took you. One by one. Gojo fed you his cock while Nanami played with your tits. Geto slid inside your ruined pussy again, groaning at the way you tightened despite all that. Toji watched, then took his turn. Every touch was overwhelming, every kiss was filthy, every praise turned into a demand, every moan a command. You sobbed through your third orgasm, your fourth, twitching helplessly in overstimulation.

“Good girl.”

“So fucking pretty when she cries.”

“She’s gonna pass out soon.”

“Let her.”

Your eyes fluttered, mouth full, body trembling, holes stuffed and stretched. And then you went still. You collapsed, limp, barely conscious. You drifted off in someone's arms, you didn't even know whose. They were all touching, holding, kissing and cuddling you. You woke the next morning in the middle of them. Naked and sore with four bodies around you. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to.

And you didn’t regret a fuckin' thing.

to be continued in the next chapter

comment down to get tagged in upcoming chapters.

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more?

pairing : jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : nsfw, group dynamics, unprotected sex, cum play, possessiveness, jealousy, manipulation, oral , dirty talk, overstim, shower sex, polyamory, dry humping, 18+ only, mdni.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 7

The shift in the house was undeniable.

Gojo was the worst.

If you bent over the fridge, he pressed behind you, his hips flush against your ass, letting you feel just how hard he got from the smallest things.

“Still wet when you think about it?” he’d purr into your ear, breath warm on your neck. “Wanna know how many times I jerked off thinking about how you sounded, grinding all desperate on me?”

He never missed a moment alone with you.

Geto was quieter—but filthier in his own way.

He didn’t talk much. He showed. He’d corner you in the hallway when no one was around, press you up against the wall and suck bruises into your chest through your shirt, hands shoved beneath your clothes like he owned you. Once, you bent down to grab something in the kitchen, and he dropped to his knees behind you, face between your thighs, eating you out while Gojo and Nanami sat unsuspectingly in the next room. He pulled back only when you were shaking, licking his lips like he was tasting wine.

Toji was possessive. And mean. So fuckin' mean.

He didn’t bother with foreplay anymore. If he wanted you, he took you.

“C’mere,” he ordered one night, pulling you into his lap during a movie. “You’ve been walking around like a cockdrunk little thing all day. Might as well sit where you belong.”

He'd push you against the hallway wall, shove your hand down his sweats, make you stroke him until he came on your fingers, then make you licked them clean with a low growl.

Toji didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. One moment you were walking to your room, the next he had you bent over the arm of the couch, hand wrapped in your hair, his cock rutting lazily between your thighs. He’d slap your ass and shove his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

And then there was Nanami.

Always gentle. Always private. But that didn’t make him any less filthy. He never touched you around the others. Never spoke out of turn. But at night, when he knocked softly on your door, waited for your whispered “come in” he was all hunger behind closed doors. He’d undress you piece by piece, like a ritual, kissing every inch he exposed. He touched you with reverence, spreading your legs on the bed and laying between them, mouth hot and open on your pussy, groaning with each flick of his tongue. He didn’t join in like the others. But in the quiet of your room, behind a locked door, he was the filthiest of all. He’d lay you out on the bed and fuck your thighs, tits, anything he could get, deep and soft until tears welled in your eyes, his hand gently around your throat as he murmured, “So good. Always so good for me.”

He never raised his voice. He didn’t need to. His control wrecked you.

The house fell into a rhythm. A filthy, possessive, addicting rhythm.

They weren’t hiding anymore. They don't even bother going to bedrooms now. They’d touch you in front of each other now. Hands meeting on your thighs. Mouths brushing your neck within seconds of each other. Words growing filthier. And you always let them.

Because you weren’t naive anymore. And at the end of the day, you knew what you were walking into. You liked the fire. The tension. The attention. You weren’t ready to walk away.

Not when Gojo had your legs over his shoulders while he made you beg into a pillow. Not when Geto stuffed your panties in your mouth while he fingered you slow and deep, watching every twitch. Not when Toji stuffed your mouth full and told you to swallow it like the good girl you were. Not when Nanami knelt between your legs and made you come three times before even unbuckling his belt.

You wanted it. All of it. All of them. Because being wanted, admired, ruined—by all of them was addicting.

************

The house was unusually quiet that evening.

Toji had stepped out for a job or maybe errands, you weren’t sure. Nanami was in his room, door closed, probably reading or finishing work. And in the living room, Gojo and Geto were sprawled across the couch, half-focused on some action movie playing too loud on the screen.

You walked out of the kitchen, your fingers still damp from rinsing a glass, only half-aware of how short your sleep shorts looked when you crossed the room. Gojo noticed immediately.

“Come here,” he called, lazily patting the space beside him but the gleam in his eyes said he had something else in mind. You blinked at him for just a moment before stepping closer, intending to squeeze yourself between the two of them. But as soon as you turned to sit—

His arm shot out, smooth and fast. You yelped softly as Gojo pulled you down—not beside him, but squarely into his lap. His hands were warm and shameless, gripping your waist as he adjusted your position with practiced ease, until you were straddling one of his thighs.

You froze for a second. He was only wearing those thin gray boxers again. The same kind that clung to his skin a little too well. And it was obvious—so obvious—that he had nothing underneath. He tilted his head down to look at you, eyes bright, shameless.

“Comfy?” he asked innocently, though the way he shifted his thigh underneath you made your body jolt in surprise.

“Toruuuu,” you mumbled, trying to push up off his lap, but his hands tightened around your hips.

“Ah-ah,” he clicked his tongue. “I invited you to sit, didn’t I? Didn’t say where.”

Geto chuckled from the other end of the couch, his dark eyes flicking to the two of you just briefly.

“Don’t mind him,” he said smoothly, not even looking away from the screen. “He’s just needy. Always has been.”

Then, after a beat: “But you do look better on him than the couch cushions.”

Your face burned. You sat stiffly, unsure of where to place your hands. Gojo clearly had no such hesitation—his hands stayed firm on your waist, thumbs brushing circles against your skin as though he were trying to memorize every curve. He leaned in close, his breath warm on your neck.

“You feel that?” he whispered, his voice low and amused, hips shifting up just enough for you to notice what he meant. “I’m not even doing anything yet.”

You swallowed hard, heart pounding, and tried not to move. But it was impossible not to feel everything. Every inch of him beneath you. Every twitch. Every slow exhale that made your body respond against your will. He was doing it on purpose—making it impossible to sit still.

You shifted slightly, trying to find a neutral position, but Gojo groaned low under his breath and squeezed your hips.

“God, don’t do that unless you mean it,” he muttered.

Your breath caught. You felt yourself growing warm all over, hyper-aware of how little space there was between your skin and his.

Geto, still watching the movie, smirked again. “He’s really gonna lose it one of these days,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You wanted to hide, but you didn’t move. You didn’t try to get up. Because despite the tension, despite the heat, despite the way your thighs clenched involuntarily around Gojo’s… You didn’t want to.

Gojo must have sensed it too. His fingers dipped lower, brushing the hem of your shirt, dangerously close to slipping underneath.

“Should we keep watching the movie,” he murmured, his lips ghosting just behind your ear, “or make our own entertainment?”

Your breath hitched. From across the other couch, Geto raised an eyebrow, finally turning to look at you fully.

“If you’re gonna start something,” he said to Gojo, voice slow and amused, “at least make sure I don’t have to pause the movie halfway.”

Gojo’s grin widened, eyes still locked on you.

“Well then… come help me make it interesting.”

You barely had time to react before Gojo hooked his fingers into your waistband—smooth, practiced—and in one fluid motion, your soaked underwear was gone, tugged down your thighs and tossed somewhere across the couch. He hissed through his teeth when he saw how wet you were, his hands sliding under your skirt to cup your bare ass, dragging you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Then came the sound of his boxers being shoved down, and suddenly there was nothing separating you. Just the hot, heavy press of him against your slick folds, skin to skin.

“Oh fuck…” Gojo groaned, his voice shaking with restraint. He rutted upward, dragging the thick length of his cock against you, gliding through your slickness with ease. He didn’t push in, didn’t even try. But the bare grinding was filthy. Slow, teasing, unbearable.

The head of his cock slid right over your clit, catching every now and then in a way that made your entire body jolt.

Across the room, Geto was panting quietly, his hand moving faster beneath his sweats. The moment he saw Gojo’s flushed length sliding against your soaked heat, his other hand reached for the remote and turned the volume up. The low thrum of background noise filled the air—just enough to muffle the soft, breathy moans spilling from your lips.

“God, look at that…” Geto murmured, eyes dark and hungry as he watched. “She’s wetting you.”

Gojo groaned again, rutting up with a little more urgency now. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to move with him. You were moving—rubbing against his bare cock, slick and flushed, your hips rolling instinctively to chase that friction, to feel that delicious pressure build between your thighs.

"You're making such a mess on me," he said against your neck, voice ragged, almost delirious. "Don’t stop—just like that. Fuck, that’s so good…”

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your forehead pressed to his as your breathing quickened. Your thighs were trembling now.

The heavy slide of his cock against your clit with each pass was devastating—sloppy, needy, perfect. The base of him rubbed against your soaked folds, every vein, every twitch of him obvious.

Geto let out a low curse and pushed his sweatpants halfway down his thighs, his cock springing free—thick and hard, already slick with precum as he gripped it tightly and started stroking with sharp, practiced motions.

“This is too much,” he muttered. “You’re too fucking pretty like that…”

Gojo’s pace grew more frantic. The filthy, wet sound of your bodies grinding echoed beneath the TV’s soft noise. The couch creaked under the weight of your rhythm, the whole room charged with something electric and obscene.

“Gonna come just like this,” Gojo gasped. “Gonna come all over you…”

You felt him twitch, the head of his cock brushing right against your clit again and again until stars bloomed behind your eyes. You were right on the edge—hips grinding back, trying to match his rhythm, lost in the raw, hot slide of skin on skin.

And when you finally broke—when that tight coil of pleasure snapped and your release rushed through you in a wave, you moaned into his shoulder, your entire body trembling in his arms.

Gojo wasn’t far behind. With a harsh groan, he rutted up a few more times, his cock slick against your folds, before he spilled between your thighs—hot, thick, messy, the wet heat of it smearing over your skin and dripping down your thighs.

You were both panting, clinging to each other.

Geto was still stroking himself, breathing heavy, his cock flushed and angry-looking in his grip. “You two are gonna kill me,” he muttered, then shifted forward on the couch.

“Round two?” he asked, eyes locked on you with a lazy, filthy grin.

Gojo let out a breathless laugh, still recovering, and gently shifted you off his lap. “Your turn, huh?” he said, voice lazy and teasing. “Don’t break her.”

Geto didn’t respond with words. He was already moving, eyes fixed on you—dark and hungry. His shirt came off in one swift motion, revealing the toned lines of his body, and he stepped between your thighs, pulling you close by the hips with a sure grip.

You couldn't even get to catch your breath before he was lowering himself onto the couch, dragging you into his lap, settling you right over the thick, flushed length of his cock. He was already hard, had been since the moment he’d watched Gojo grind into you and the hot pressure of him sliding against your still-sensitive folds made you whimper.

Geto exhaled sharply. “Still so wet… fuck, you’re perfect like this.”

He didn’t hesitate. Just started moving. His cock slipped between your soaked folds, dragging against your clit, slick and messy from everything that had happened before. He rutted upward with slow, grinding rolls of his hips, the entire length of him gliding over you again and again. Each thrust up sent shivers through your body, your thighs twitching as the pressure returned fast and heavy.

You clung to his shoulders, your body arching into him as he moved beneath you, guiding your hips with strong hands.

“You like it like this?” he murmured, his voice deep and hoarse against your ear. “No teasing. Just skin. Just mess.”

You nodded fast, biting your lip, unable to form words. He groaned when he felt how easily you moved with him. “Shit, you’re soaking me. Look at you…”

Gojo had leaned back, lazily stroking himself as he watched, his lips parted. “She’s always like that. Just takes one good rub and she’s leaking.”

Geto growled softly at that, pulling you closer, grinding up harder now, the tip of his cock hitting your clit with perfect friction. Your legs trembled on either side of him, the pleasure sharp and overwhelming.

The couch creaked again, louder this time with the force of Geto’s rhythm. He was relentless, each thrust up was deep, deliberate, controlled. The thick weight of his cock rubbed perfectly along your folds, every vein dragging over swollen nerves.

“You’re gonna come again,” he said, voice tight. “You’re close, I can feel it…”

And you were. It hit faster this time, your second orgasm catching you off guard. You came with a cry, shuddering in his lap as your hips bucked uncontrollably, your thighs clamping around his waist.

“Fuck—yes, just like that,” Geto grunted. “So fucking pretty when you come.”

He didn’t stop. Rode out your high with a few more grinding thrusts, then held you down hard as his own climax crashed through him. You felt him pulse against you, the hot, sticky release spilling over your folds, dripping down your thighs again. A mess layered over what Gojo had already left behind. He didn’t pull away immediately. Just held you there, chest rising and falling, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

Geto stayed seated, your trembling body still straddling his lap as he caught his breath. His hands kept a firm grip on your hips, and he rested his forehead briefly against your shoulder, chest rising and falling in quick bursts.

Then his gaze flicked to your face, flushed, dazed, lips parted and something shifted. The way you looked, the way you clenched around nothing, still needy even after two orgasms… it snapped whatever restraint he had left.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. You barely had time to react before he adjusted his grip on your hips and—

“Suguru—!” you gasped, eyes flying wide.

He didn't stop. Just groaned low in his throat and sank you down, deep, in one unrelenting motion.

From the couch, Gojo sat up, blinking in disbelief. “Whoa—wait, I didn’t know we were doing that.”

“Shut up, Satoru,” Geto growled, breath ragged as he bottomed out. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place, making sure you felt all of him.

The stretch, the sudden fullness, the heat—it left you gasping, gripping his shoulders for balance. Geto didn’t move at first. He just sat there, buried deep inside, eyes locked on yours with something raw and possessive in them.

“You feel that?” he murmured. “So tight. So full. You were made for this, weren’t you?”

Your breath hitched. He moved then, slow, grinding rolls of his hips that made you arch into him, moaning with each motion.

“You’re taking me so well,” he said, voice thick, one hand moving to splay over your lower belly. “Bet your body’s already trying to keep me in.”

The implication made your skin burn. He leaned forward, whispering against your throat, “You want it, don’t you? Want me to fill you up? Make sure it stays there?”

You didn’t answer, not with words. Just tightened your grip on him, whimpering as he thrust deeper, harder, the filthy rhythm echoing in the room despite the TV still playing in the background.

Gojo didn’t speak again, but he watched. Watched with wide eyes and parted lips, visibly stroking his hard length watching you.

Geto wasn’t quiet anymore. He groaned your name, praised how you felt, muttered things about how good you were, how soft, how tight , how sloppy, how perfect. And all of it fed into that deep, hot coil inside you.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned, but there was no hesitation. “Not pulling out.”

You moaned at that, and Geto lost it. He thrust in deep, once, twice, then held you down hard, grinding into you as he came with a low groan, trembling through it. The warmth spread inside you, your breath catching at the feeling of it. He didn’t move. Just held you there, chest against yours, lips brushing your cheek.

“Baby,” he whispered hoarsely. “So good, such a tight one...."

Gojo didn’t waste a second. As soon as Geto slumped back on the couch, panting and spent, Gojo scooped you up into his arms with a dramatic pout on his face.

“You did foul, Geto,” he whined, though his voice was already thick with something darker. His eyes gleamed with playful frustration and want as he carried you toward his room, glaring over his shoulder while Geto lay there catching his breath, chest still heaving.

The door to the room slammed shut with his foot. He didn’t even pause to turn on the lights. You were already trembling in his arms when he laid you on his bed—soft sheets against your back, his tall frame hovering over you, already yanking off the last of his clothes in a blur of movement.

“I was supposed to go next,” he murmured, voice almost sing-song as he climbed over you, slotting himself between your legs. “You were supposed to be mine first.”

His pout deepened, but his eyes darkened even more. The moment your legs parted for him, willingly, his cock nudged against your entrance—still so sensitive, still leaking from Geto and Gojo groaned.

“You’re leaking again?” he murmured, almost in awe. “God, you’re really meant for this, huh?”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he rubbed himself along your folds, gathering every bit of mess and heat. And then he pushed in deep, full, fast—stretching you again, filling you completely.

You gasped, head tilting back into the pillow. Gojo moaned into your neck, burying himself to the hilt. “So warm… fuck—tight. Even after him, you're still tight for me.”

His pace started fast, desperate. His body slammed into yours with each thrust, the wet slap of skin filling the room.

"You feel that?" he whispered, pushing deeper, rolling his hips. "I'm not stopping until you're full of me too."

Your breath caught at the way he said it. The possessiveness. The need.

“You want that, don’t you?” he rasped, lips brushing your ear. “You want me to breed you. Just like he did. Stuff you full and make sure it stays.”

His hand moved to your belly, pressing down gently feeling the shape of himself inside you. “Right here. Gonna make sure it takes. Gonna be mine.”

Your nails raked his back, and Gojo moaned loudly, moving faster, harder. Every thrust now felt more demanding, as if his body had one goal—to claim you entirely.

The words tumbled from him like a spell. “Wanna see you walk outta here leaking me. Want them all to see what I did. What I gave you.”

His hand came up to your jaw, tilting your face so he could kiss you—sloppy, breathless, needy. He slammed in once more, burying himself deep, and with a guttural moan, Gojo spilled inside you, his whole body shaking as he released, panting out your name like a prayer.

“You’re gonna be so full,” he whispered, pressing lazy kisses along your collarbone. “Don’t even think about going to the bathroom. I want it to stay.”

He stayed there, still inside, panting against your neck, nuzzling your skin with a grin.

*****

A few hours had passed since the tangled mess of limbs and whispers in Gojo’s room.

You don't even know when Geto came in. You were curled between him and Geto, bodies warm and still buzzing with everything that happened. Gojo hadn’t stopped murmuring filthy little praises against your skin, telling you how hard you made him come, twice, how you moaned like music in his ear, how he could barely keep himself from going a third round. His fingers were still idly tracing shapes on your waist, lazily possessive.

Geto, on your other side, had dozed off soon after joining. One of his arms draped across your middle, his head tucked into the crook of your shoulder, breathing soft and even. Gojo chuckled quietly at Geto’s sleeping face. “He’s like a cat after milk,” he muttered, brushing hair from your face, still smiling.

That peace didn’t last long.

Somewhere down the hallway, Nanami stood sipping tea at the kitchen counter when the front door clicked open and Toji strolled in, fresh from outside. He looked around absently while kicking off his shoes. Nanami offered a simple nod.

Toji sniffed the air faintly, then headed toward his room before pausing. “Where's everyone?” he asked, hand already on the hallway door handle.

Nanami glanced up from his cup, expression unreadable. “Looking for someone?” he asked, dryly.

Toji grunted, “Yeah. And not those brats, in case you're wondering.”

Nanami gestured toward the hallway. “Try those brats' room.”

Toji blinked. “The hell does that mean?” he muttered, already walking. “I wasn’t asking about them—wait. Don’t tell me.” He stopped, turning back slowly.

Nanami just stared at him with that ever-neutral, but unmistakably knowing, look.

Toji raised a brow. “Pervs. Both of them?”

Nanami took a sip. “Heard sounds earlier. I didn’t mind.”

Toji scoffed loudly, throwing his head back as if the ceiling owed him answers. “Unreal. I leave for a couple hours and these two are playing house?”

He yanked the fridge open, grabbed a beer, cracked it open with practiced ease, and took a long sip as he plopped onto the couch. “I swear—this place is a circus.”

Just then, the hallway door creaked open and Gojo stepped out, stretching and yawning, stark naked in full glory.

Toji didn’t even blink. “Yo. Go put some damn pants on before you flash the neighbors.”

Gojo blinked at him, bleary-eyed. “What? Oh. Oops.” He shuffled back into the room like it was no big deal, mumbling something about boxers.

Nanami gave him a withering look. “Where’s Geto? Still asleep?”

Gojo popped his head back out the door, now clothed. “Yeah, passed out like a baby on her tits.” He winked.

Nanami’s stare sharpened. “Be respectful.”

Gojo held up his hands in surrender. “No offense, sir. Sorry. Just facts.”

Toji chuckled darkly. “Oi, Nanami. You can drop the goody two-shoes act. We all know you're going at it with her too.”

Nanami nearly choked on his tea. “Excuse me?”

Gojo grinned. “Yeah, come on. You thought you were being slick?”

Nanami straightened. “Who told you?”

Toji cracked his neck. “Geto.”

Gojo added, “He’s like a housewife with radar. There’s nothing happening in this apartment without his sixth sense catching it.”

Nanami cursed under his breath, clearly regretting every life choice that led him to this exact moment, and walked out the front door muttering something about needing air.

Toji looked over at Gojo, smirking. “Told ya'.”

Gojo plopped down on the couch beside him, stretching. “I mean… good for him, honestly. Didn’t think he had it in him.”

Toji took another sip of beer. “I’m just saying… he’s in over her head.”

Gojo gave a half-smirk. “She’s the one keeping up with us.”

Toji chuckled. “Fair.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the TV playing some random late-night show in the background. Then, like clockwork, Geto emerged shirtless, hair a mess, looking mildly annoyed at the world for waking him.

Toji looked at him over the rim of his beer can. “Morning, sunshine.”

Geto groaned. “What time is it?”

Gojo beamed. “Time for your turn on the interrogation couch.”

Geto rolled his eyes and flopped onto the armchair. “You two gossip more than the old ladies downstairs.”

Toji nodded. “Because we’re trying to figure out how the hell all of us ended up in this chaos.”

Gojo looked proud. “She just has that effect.”

Geto didn’t disagree. Toji hummed, looking at the door Nanami had just left through. Gojo and Geto exchanged a glance. No arguments there.

********"***

Later, the moment you stepped into the living room, every pair of eyes turned to you.

Your hair was tangled, cheeks flushed from sleep and something far deeper, lips slightly swollen, shirt hastily thrown on barely hanging off your shoulder. Your legs still wobbled with each step, and your thighs burned with the memory of too much. Too many.

You looked used. Worn. Absolutely devoured.

Toji, lounging on one end of the couch beside Gojo, gave a low whistle. “Well, well. Look who finally rose from the dead.”

Gojo looked over his shoulder and smirked wide, eyes shamelessly dragging over you. “She walks like that and I swear I’m getting hard again.” He grinned like a menace. “Bet she still has me leaking down her thighs.”

You flushed deeper, not answering, but the way you bit your lip only fueled him.

Geto, seated on the floor by the coffee table, scribbling lazily into his notebook, looked up with a little smirk. “She begged for it, too. Don’t let the quiet act fool you.”

You shot him a glare. He just winked.

Nanami sat at the dining table, fingers paused above his laptop keys. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at you the way the others did. Instead, his voice was soft—just a bit tense. “You look exhausted. Do you need anything?”

That earned him a few side glances from the rest, but he ignored it.

Geto suddenly snapped his fingers like he remembered something. He stood, opened the drawer near the TV stand, and returned with a small pill and a glass of water. He offered it to you with an unreadable look.

You blinked. “What’s this?”

“Pill,” he said simply.

The silence after that was thick.

Nanami’s knuckles tightened around his mug. His jaw ticked. “You mean to say none of you used protection?”

Toji scoffed, sitting up straighter. “Are you serious?” His voice turned sharp. “What the hell’s wrong with you idiots? She’s not a damn toy.”

Gojo rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oi, oi, don’t act like you’re better than us. You went raw too, old man.”

“That’s different,” Toji snapped. “I don’t go in thinking with my d—”

“Shut up, Toji,” Gojo said, smirking as he stood, unbothered. “You’re just mad I did it better.”

That set Toji off.

They both started bickering, voices rising, throwing insults laced with dirty innuendos and passive aggressive jabs. Something about “at least I made her come twice,” and “she moaned my name louder, brat.”

The air grew tense, loud, chaotic.

Geto didn’t even flinch. He leaned back against the couch, sipping his own drink, and calmly went back to scribbling in his notebook, amused by all of it. Nanami, however, slammed his laptop shut and stood abruptly.

“Enough,” he snapped. His voice carried over both of them like a whipcrack. “She needs peace. You two shut up for once.”

The room went still for a beat.

You didn’t say anything. You just held the pill, cheeks burning, then downed it with the water Geto gave you. No one said another word as you turned and started walking down the hall to your room, still sore, head buzzing. Before the door could close, Gojo slipped in behind you, grin already forming.

“Toji’s gonna cry if he sees this,” he murmured, flicking the lock on the door before you could stop him. As Gojo shut the door, you barely had time to turn before a loud bang echoed through the apartment.

“Oi! Open the goddamn door!”

Toji’s voice was deep, rough—laced with annoyance and something darker. The doorknob jiggled violently. He must’ve seen Gojo slip in behind you.

“What the hell are you doing in there, Satoru?”

You froze near the bed, heart thudding in your chest. Gojo didn’t. He didn’t even blink. He just grinned. He turned to you slowly, letting Toji shout on the other side of the wood, pounding once more.

“Ignore him,” Gojo said smoothly, walking up to you.

Another bang. “Open the door, you brat!”

Gojo only chuckled, like this was just another day for him. “He can’t stand the thought of someone else making you feel good.”

You swallowed thickly, the noise outside muffling as Gojo tilted your chin up and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was soft—at first. Until his hand slipped down your spine, until his body pushed you backward gently toward the bathroom.

“Come on,” he whispered against your skin, voice almost a purr. “You need a shower. Let me help.”

The water ran hot, steam curling around your bodies as Gojo stepped in behind you, still fully naked. He didn’t waste time. His arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against him, and you felt it immediately, his boner, pressing insistently against your backside as his mouth found the crook of your neck.

“Even after all that,” he murmured, lips brushing over your damp skin, “I’m still so fucking hard for you.”

His hands slid down, fingers exploring the curve of your hips, the soreness between your thighs, his touch almost reverent but still bold.

"Satoruuu, n—not there." You whined.

"I know, I know, but you make me insane," he groaned, grinding against you under the hot stream of water. “So warm. So soft. Like your body was made for me.”

Your breath hitched when his hand slipped lower, teasing where you were still sensitive. He groaned at the wetness, some of it from the shower, but not all.

“No one’s made me come this hard before,” he said against your ear. “And you did it twice. You like that, huh? Being all full of me?”

"I'm not—answering that." You whined under your breath, leaning into him, water cascading over both your bodies as he moved his hips, rubbing himself slowly between your thighs again.

“Let me do it again,” Gojo whispered, his voice filth-soft and hungry. “Let me fill you up one more time. I know you're sore, but please, just the tip.... I need it.”

"Promise?" you looked up at him suspiciously.

"Pinky promise." He assured you as his hand guided his cock against you, teasing your entrance, just enough pressure to make your legs shake. You reached up, hands bracing against the tile, eyes fluttering shut as his voice poured filth into your ears.

“Wanna keep you like this,” he breathed. “Dripping. Mine. You’d look so pretty full of my cum again. Every fucking day.”

You gasped when he slowly pushed in, inch by inch, giving you no time to recover as he bottomed out.

"But you promised—" The angle, the heat of the shower, the way his fingers dug into your hips—it shut you up. You clutched the tile wall as he started thrusting, hard and deep.

"M'sorry, bunny," His mouth was by your ear again. “But you feel that? So fucking tight. You still want more, don’t you?”

The sounds of the water mixed with wet slaps of skin, his groans echoing in the small space.

“Gonna fuck you stupid,” he panted, hips slamming into you now. “Fill you up so good they’ll smell me on you.”

You whimpered, your voice caught between pleasure and overstimulation as his pace grew erratic. Gojo groaned so loud it echoed off the tile. He spilled into you with a strangled moan, pressing deep, hands tightening around your waist as his hips stilled. The two of you stood there for a moment, tangled under the shower, steam wrapping around you like a second skin. His lips pressed against your shoulder, slower now, gentle.

“…Definitely going for another round tonight,” he mumbled, and you could feel the grin against your back.

*****

After the shower, you emerged from the room on shaky legs, hair damp, wrapped in an oversized shirt. He followed right behind you, looking ridiculously smug, his face flushed, hair messier than usual, and a lazy grin spread across his lips.

If the glow on your skin wasn’t enough of a giveaway, his blissed-out expression made it obvious to everyone that another round had happened in the shower.

The room fell quiet for just a second before the tension snapped. Toji was already rising from the couch, jaw clenched. He stalked forward, grabbing Gojo by the collar with a rough tug.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” he snapped, yanking Gojo closer. “You shut the door in my face and locked it like a coward. And you went at it with her again?” His voice dropped into something sharp. “She’s tired, you idiot.”

Gojo blinked, unbothered, but that grin faltered just a little. “I didn’t hear her complain,” he said casually, brushing Toji’s hands off. “Unlike you, I don’t fuck like I’m trying to break her hips.”

You sat down slowly on the couch, head dropping back against the cushion with a soft sigh, completely drained. Your thighs ached, your body sore and sticky under the shirt, but warm. Full. You didn’t want to move. Toji’s eyes flicked to you at that, watching your exhaustion like it made his blood boil.

“She can barely keep her head up, and you’re still grinning like an idiot.”

Gojo huffed, fixing his shirt. “Maybe if you had a little finesse, she'd want seconds.”

“You little—”

“Enough.” Geto’s voice cut in smoothly before Toji could lunge again. He stepped between them, casting a glance at your curled-up form on the couch. He came over and crouched next to you, brushing a few strands of hair off your flushed face.

“You okay?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You nodded sleepily, eyes fluttering open just enough to meet his.

“Want dinner?” Geto asked gently, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“Yeahh, M'so hungry…”

From the side, Nanami stood, quietly closing his laptop. “I’ll make something,” he said, already heading to the kitchen without waiting for a response.

You heard Toji scoff behind you, but he didn’t say anything else—just sat back down, arms crossed, legs spread wide as he stared daggers at Gojo.

Gojo didn’t rise to it again. Instead, he plopped down next to you, swinging an arm around the back of the couch, his hand brushing along your shoulder.

“She really does look pretty like this,” he said lowly, nudging your knee with his. “All used up. Soft. Mellow.”

Geto chuckled, standing up to join Nanami. “Don’t push your luck, Satoru.”

The dinner prep didn’t take long, Nanami kept it simple. Stir-fried noodles, some soup, grilled chicken. Comfort food. When he brought out the plates, you were still curled against the couch, eyelids drooping.

“Come,” Nanami said softly, setting a plate down in front of you, cutleries placed perfectly. “You need to eat.”

You nodded, shifting upright with a groan, and Gojo helped you up by the waist, steadying you as you moved to the low dining table. The five of you sat together, the quietest you’d been all day. Toji grumbled about the seasoning. Gojo flicked rice at him. Nanami threatened to revoke their eating privileges. Geto poured you a glass of water and leaned close ruffling your hair.

You gave a tired little smile, thankful for the food and the quiet warmth around you, even if the house was full of chaos, bickering men, and an ever-growing tangle of complicated feelings.

to be continued in the next chapter

comment down to get tagged for upcoming chapters.

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more?

pairing : jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : explicit content, p in v, dirty talk, possessive, jealous behaviour, power dynamics, overstimulation, degradation, loss of virginity, fingering, oral, breeding kink, mdni, 18+.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 6

“Look at you,” he growled, voice low and heavy. “Laid up in those fucker's bed, smelling like them.”

His eyes pinned you down, burning with something between fury and desire, and your breath hitched. You tried to pull the blanket higher up your chest, heat crawling up your skin, but he was already moving. Toji reached you and yanked the covers down with a force that made your body jolt.

“Don’t hide now,” he sneered. “You weren’t hiding from them, were you?”

You tried to speak, tried to explain, but all that came out was a soft gasp when he grabbed your jaw, tilting your face up to him. His fingers dug in just enough to make your thighs press together beneath the thin sheets.

“That’s what I thought,” he muttered, scanning your face like he was trying to read all the filthy thoughts you had while wrapped up with Gojo. “They touched you, didn’t they? Got you all messy for me.”

Your lips trembled.

Toji’s hand slid down your throat, then lower, fingers hooking around the edge of the tshirt you were still wearing and he grinned darkly. “This his? Of course it is. Smells like him. Disgusting.”

He pulled it up over your head, tossing it across the room. You were bare underneath, nipples stiff from cold or nerves or maybe from the way he looked at you, like he wanted to ruin you. His hands immediately went to your chest, cupping and squeezing, thumbs grazing sensitive peaks that made you whimper and arch into his touch.

“That’s better,” he said. “These are mine. No one else gets to touch.”

You nodded, too dazed to speak, hips shifting under the sheet as your thighs clenched tighter. His fingers pinched, hard enough to make you whine, and he laughed under his breath.

“What’s the matter, princess? You this worked up already? Just from being yelled at?” He leaned down, lips ghosting over your ear. “You like being put in your place, don’t you?”

His knee pushed between your legs, forcing them apart as he settled between them, the fabric of his joggers rough against your bare heat. He was solid and heavy on top of you, heat radiating through the thin fabric, his hips grinding down just enough to make your breath catch.

You tried to close your legs again, embarrassed by how wet you already were, but he just pinned you wider, smirking at the whimper that escaped you.

“Don’t be shy now,” he said, dragging a hand down your stomach until it hovered just over where you were aching. “You’ve been acting like a good little roomie all this time, but you’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? About me? About what I’d do if I caught you like this.”

His fingers dipped lower, brushing over your folds, and you gasped, hips jerking up into his touch. “Toji—ngh”

“Shhh,” he murmured, two fingers sliding in to gather your slick. He held them up, watching the strings of it stretch, then locked eyes with you again.

“And you let them touch you like this? While you were already dripping for me?” He shoved the fingers into your mouth. “Suck.”

You obeyed, tasting yourself on his skin as he watched with hooded eyes, jaw clenched tight. He looked like he was barely holding himself together. When he pulled them out, they trailed saliva down your chin, and he wiped it away with his thumb before slipping it down again, rubbing slow, cruel circles over your clit that made your thighs quake.

Then he sank lower, lips dragging down your body until his mouth replaced his hand. His tongue was ruthless, licking and sucking like he wanted to drink you dry, groaning into you every time your hips twitched. Your hands fisted in the sheets, head thrown back, moans spilling out freely as he devoured you.

It didn’t take long before you were writhing, overwhelmed, begging him to stop—no, to keep going—unsure of what you even needed. He only stopped when your legs were trembling, your body buzzing from release.

Toji sat up, panting, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like he’d just finished a meal. “Tastes like mine already,” he muttered.

He yanked off his joggers, not bothering with modesty, and climbed over you again, pinning you down with his weight.

“Not gonna fuck you. Not yet,” he murmured, grinding his hips down until you could feel every hard inch pressing between your thighs. “Not until I know you’ll beg for it.”

You were already squirming, his cock hot and heavy against your slick skin, sliding with every rough, punishing thrust. He grabbed your thighs, pushing them up to your chest, folding you in half so he could rut against you, skin slapping as he grunted through gritted teeth. His mouth latched onto your breasts, sucking and biting and groaning like he couldn’t get enough.

“These perfect tits bouncing for me—fuck—makes me wanna ruin you.”

The rhythm of his hips grew faster, more frantic, and you clutched at his arms, nails digging in as his pelvis ground perfectly against your clit, sparks shooting through your core with every thrust.

“Gonna cum like this,” he hissed, “humping your pussy like a fucking animal.”

You were so close again, your orgasm building fast with every slick grind. He felt it, saw it in your eyes, in the way your back arched and he slowed just enough to make you whimper.

“Hold it,” he growled. “You don’t cum unless I say so.”

“Toji—please—want to”

“You wanna be bred so bad, don’t you?” he hissed, voice rough. “That’s what you were thinking about, yeah? All day? You let them grind all over you just to get ready for me?”

Your moan was the only answer he needed.

“Say it,” he demanded, hips rolling, dragging across your soaked folds. “Say you want it.”

You gasped. “ Toji—please—need it”

He cursed, low and feral, then pressed his forehead to yours, rutting against you faster, harder, each thrust a claim. You both tumbled into another wave of pleasure together, his moan deep and broken as he spilled between your thighs, hips jerking through it, your legs wrapped tight around him.

When it was over, he collapsed over you, panting, forehead still against yours.

“Fuckin' hell,” he murmured.

You nodded, dazed, body limp and warm beneath him. He didn’t move for some time. But Toji Fushiguro wasn't done. He wasn't done at all.

Toji was still hovering above you, chest rising and falling against yours, the room thick with heat, sweat, and something heavier like a storm hanging over the sheets.

You felt the tension in his body; it hadn’t eased, not even after everything. If anything, it had sharpened.

His fingers brushed down your side, slow and reverent now, dragging along the curve of your hip as if trying to memorize it.

His lips moved against your skin, kissing over the marks he’d already left behind—dark spots blooming along your chest, your throat, your shoulder.

“You still wet for me?” he muttered, low and rough, nosing into your neck. “Even after everything?”

You nodded, barely managing to take a breath.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, brushing your damp hair out of your face, the edge in his expression softening—but only a little. “You ever been touched like this before? Be honest.”

You hesitated, then shook your head slowly. "Them. . . just now. . ."

His jaw flexed. His hands clenched, then released. For a second, he didn’t say anything—just stared, like he wasn’t sure whether to gloat or growl.

“Should’ve known,” he muttered, voice like gravel. You bit your lip, heart pounding under your ribs.

“I shouldn’t,” he added, more to himself. But his hands were already drifting again, one sliding between your legs, fingers dipping into the wet heat that had never cooled down. “But I’m going to.”

You gasped, hips twitching, but he soothed you with a kiss to the side of your neck.

“I’ll take care of it,” he murmured, his voice suddenly gentler—no less intense, but slower, more careful. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’ll make it feel good, doll. Real good.”

Your hand gripped his arm as he pressed closer, body blanketing yours, skin to skin. His other hand slid behind your knee, lifting your leg up around his waist, settling you underneath him fully. You were open now—vulnerable and nervous, but aching for him.

“I’m not asking again,” he muttered, lips brushing yours. “I need to hear it.”

You whispered. “Please.”

His mouth crashed into yours with a hunger that had been restrained for far too long. It wasn’t rough—at least not at first. It was deep, consuming, laced with promise and want, with all the possessive frustration he hadn’t been able to say out loud.

Toji’s body moved against yours, slow and deliberate. You felt everything—his breath on your skin, the hard press of him against your thigh, the heat rolling off his chest as his mouth dragged over your collarbone, licking and biting down to your breasts.

He took his time worshiping you, kissing between them, licking the underside of one before sucking at the peak until you arched up into him, gasping his name.

“That’s it,” he growled. “You’re mine. No one else gets to have you like this.”

He rocked his hips forward again, sliding against your slick folds in slow, deep grinds that made your whole body tremble.

You were dripping—soaked from earlier and from the way he kissed you, touched you, said your name. And the pressure of him right there, almost inside you, only made your nerves spike and coil.

Toji’s mouth found your ear, breath hot and ragged. “Gonna go slow. Let you feel all of it.”

You clutched at his back, nodding, your body already trying to pull him closer. And then he began to push in. Slowly. Painfully. He pushed in inch by inch.

The stretch made you cry out, fingers tightening around his shoulders, your whole body tensing as he paused, letting you adjust.

“Easy,” he whispered. “You’re doing good.”

His hand found yours, fingers lacing through, grounding you. His thumb rubbed soothing circles over your skin as he moved—slow, steady, deeper. Every inch made your body shake, made your breath catch in your throat, but it wasn’t pain you felt.

It was fullness. It was being claimed.

Toji’s eyes locked onto yours, and for once, he wasn’t smirking. He looked serious. Possessive. Reverent. Like he knew exactly what this moment meant and he wasn’t taking it lightly.

When he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours, he stayed there. Breathing with you. Watching every reaction flicker across your face.

“You feel that?” he murmured. “That’s me. Deep inside you. First one to ever be.”

You nodded, blinking through the fog of heat, lips parted. He kissed you again, this time slower, lips dragging over yours as he began to move.

The rhythm was careful at first, but still powerful, rolling through you like waves. You moaned into his mouth, clutching his back as your body grew used to the rhythm, the pressure, the pleasure building with every deep, possessive thrust.

Every time his hips pressed into yours, he whispered something filthy in your ear—how good you felt, how tight, how he was going to make sure no one else ever touched you again.

“Let them hear you,” he growled. “Let those two idiots out there know exactly who you belong to now.”

You couldn’t stop the sounds pouring out of you even if you tried. Every thrust, every drag of his body inside yours pulled more from you—gasps, moans, desperate cries that only seemed to push him further into a frenzy.

Toji was barely holding back now, growling your name between gritted teeth, his mouth on your neck, your chest, anywhere he could kiss or mark. Then, his pace slowed, hips grinding deep and slow instead of fast and rough. You felt it then, the shift.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he groaned. “Gonna breed this pretty little cunt just like you need.”

The words made your toes curl, your fingers dig into his arms. He felt the way your walls clenched around him and chuckled darkly.

“You want that? Want me to make sure you’re filled nice from the inside out?”

"Yeah, yes please..." you nodded fast, eyes wide and wet, barely able to think past the overwhelming pressure building in your core.

And when he finally tipped over the edge, body jerking as he spilled inside you, he didn’t stop moving, slow, deep, grinding through it, pressing his weight into you until you cried out, body shaking through your own release.

When he finally collapsed beside you, dragging you against his chest, his breath was warm against your ear.

“Mine,” he whispered again, a little softer this time. "All mine."

**********

Toji was the one who cleaned you up, surprisingly gentle after how rough he’d been earlier. A warm washcloth, his strong hands guiding you through the haze of exhaustion and soreness.

You didn’t say much, just let him tuck you in under Gojo’s sheets, your body still trembling with the aftershocks. He leaned down, brushed your damp hair back, and kissed your forehead like it meant something. Like you meant something.

Then he pulled on his boxers and stalked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Out in the living room, Gojo and Geto were still sprawled on the couch, the glow from the TV flickering against their smug expressions. Neither looked remotely surprised to see Toji emerge, shirtless, hair damp with sweat, bite marks scattered along his collarbones like trophies.

Gojo looked up first. “Well, well. Look who finally got his fill.”

Toji grunted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You like her, old man?” Gojo teased, grinning like a devil. “Thought you’d get to touch her first, yeah? Must’ve been a long time coming.”

Geto chuckled under his breath, arms crossed over his chest. “Took you long enough. Thought you were gonna pop a vein every time she bent over.”

Toji’s jaw tightened. His eyes darkened. “I would’ve ripped your dicks off if either of you would've done it." he snapped, his voice rough.

“Fuck y’all. She’s mine now. And guess what?” His mouth curled into a cocky, triumphant grin. “Y’all can’t take her first time anymore. I already did.”

Gojo whistled low, shaking his head. “Shit. You’re real proud of that, huh?”

“Damn right I am. I was soft and shit,” Toji muttered, flopping into one of the armchairs and digging his phone out of his pocket. “Almost forgot one thing…”

He pressed a contact and put the phone on speaker.

“Yo, Nanami. Pick up Plan B after work.”

There was a pause, followed by an irritated sigh.

“Toji,” Nanami said dryly, “You have to stop doing this. Ordering me around. I’m not your damn servant.”

Toji smirked. “You’ll live. Just grab it.”

And he hung up before Nanami could protest further.

A few minutes passed. You were still curled in Gojo’s bed, deep in sleep, bruised and branded, unaware of the chaos brewing outside.

Then the front door opened, and in walked Nanami—tie loosened, brows already furrowed in irritation. He tossed the small box at Toji, who caught it lazily.

“Got your damn pill,” Nanami muttered. “Who even is—”

“Geto,” Toji called, stretching out across the couch like a cat. “Give it to her, yeah? She’s still in bed.”

Nanami froze. His head turned slowly, eyes narrowing.

“…She?”

Toji nodded, unbothered. “Sleeping like a baby.”

Nanami blinked. Once. Twice. Then his eyes went wide.

“You mean her?” His voice rose sharply. “You fucked her?”

Toji shrugged.

“You fucked the girl we’ve been living with for only what—a few weeks?!” Nanami snapped.

The pill box slid from Toji’s hand and bounced onto the table.

“Yo, yo, go easy,” Toji muttered, unfazed. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Nanami’s voice cracked. “She’s nineteen, Toji. Still young for this stuff—what the hell were you thinking?!”

Gojo raised a hand. “Technically, she’s of age—”

“Don’t you start with the technicalities, Satoru,” Nanami snapped again.

"Not only me, they're to blame too!!" Toji said pointing at Geto and Gojo.

"What!!? All three of you?" Nanami was losing it.

"Yo, we didn't fuck her, only Toji did. We just... y'know... played with her a little, that's it, I swear." Gojo said defending himself, his hands in the air.

“I expected this kind of shit from him, not you.” Nanami turned to Geto.

“I am a man of surprises,” Geto said, grinning.

Gojo just shook his head, amused.

“She’s fine, for fuck’s sake,” Toji growled, irritation bubbling beneath his tone. “She’s not a kid. She knew what she wanted.”

Nanami’s bag hit him square in the chest. “You’re unbelievable.”

Without another word, Nanami picked up the pill box and turned, storming toward the hallway where you were still sleeping. He opened the door quietly, stepping into the dim room where the covers were pulled up to your chest. You stirred when he crouched beside you, brushing your hair back softly.

“Hey,” he said gently. “Wake up for me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, hazy and confused. “Nanami…?”

“You okay?” His voice was calm now, careful. “You feeling alright?”

You nodded slowly, shifting slightly under the covers.

“I brought you something,” he murmured, placing the pill on the nightstand with a glass of water. “Can you take it now for me?”

You looked down at the pill, blinking slowly.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" he ruffled your hair gently.

“Oh… Toji already… did that.”

He looked at you again, closer this time. The marks across your neck and chest, peeking out from the collar of Gojo’s shirt. The bruising, the flushed skin, the dazed glow in your eyes.

“Goddamn it,” he whispered under his breath.

“Nanami…?” you asked quietly, sitting up a little.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, voice tight. “Do you want anything? Coffee? Tea?”

“Ice cream,” you murmured.

He sighed, a little smile tugging at the edge of his lips despite everything. “Alright. I’ll order it.”

Then, with barely a grunt of effort, he scooped you up into his arms, bridal style. You blinked, startled, but didn’t protest—just curled into his chest, comforted by his warmth. As he carried you out of the room, his glare cut through the living room like a blade.

“We’re all going to have a talk about this,” he growled at them.

Geto raised a brow. Gojo just waved. Toji looked smug.

Nanami didn’t say another word until he got to your bedroom, laying you down gently in your bed, tucking the blanket around your legs. He hesitated, then leaned down and kissed your temple.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured.

You nodded sleepily.

Back in the living room, Nanami grabbed a chair, dragged it in front of the couch, and spun it so it faced all three of them directly.

Then he sat.

Arms crossed. Legs spread. Face stone-cold.

“Start talking,” he said, voice sharp. “And pray I don’t kill one of you before dessert gets here.”

Toji leaned back, arms behind his head. “What? You jealous?”

“Jealous?” Nanami echoed. “Jealous that you took advantage of a sweet girl who clearly trusts you? Get the hell over yourself.”

“Oi oi, It's not like it's out of the blue, we've been doing things with her and she clearly likes it.” Toji said simply.

“She doesn’t know what she wants, and doing "things" with her and fucking her raw for her first time isn't the fuckin' same.” Nanami snapped. “She’s been living with four men for a few weeks and now this? This is not okay.”

Gojo nudged Geto. “Is now a bad time to ask if we get one more turn?”

Nanami’s fist hit the coffee table hard enough to rattle it. “No one is getting anything. This isn’t a game. She’s not your fuck toy.”

The room went quiet.

Toji, for once, didn’t have a comeback. Just watched him with a narrowed stare, jaw ticking.

Geto exhaled slowly. “Alright. Let’s not burn the house down.”

“I’ll burn it down myself if you three don’t get your shit together,” Nanami muttered. “She’s not yours. She’s not anyone’s. If I see one of you hurt her—one—I swear I’ll break your jaw.”

Silence. And then:

“Do I still get to bring her the ice cream?” Gojo asked, cautiously. Nanami glared at him.

“…I’ll scoop it,” Gojo said quickly. Nanami didn’t move, still glaring.

“I’ll also make tea.”

“Better,” Nanami muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The doorbell rang just as Nanami was threatening to kill someone for the third time.

“Ice cream’s here,” Geto said casually, getting up from the couch before Gojo beat him to it.

But Gojo was already halfway to the door, grinning like a fox. “Nope. I got it. I’m gonna feed her myself.”

Nanami narrowed his eyes. “Gojo—”

“Relax, Nanamin.” Gojo winked, holding up the dessert bag. “It’s just ice cream. Not a crime.”

Toji didn’t even look up from where he was lounging, chewing on a toothpick. “Let him go. She’ll stop him if he oversteps.”

“She better,” Nanami muttered.

Meanwhile, Gojo was already walking down the hallway, humming some ridiculous tune under his breath. He knocked once—lightly—then peeked into your room with the grin of a man who’d just stolen something valuable.

“Hey, sweet thing,” he said, stepping inside with the dessert. “Brought your ice cream. Wanna share it with me?”

You were sitting up now, more alert but still sore and tired. You blinked at him. “You like sweets?”

“I like you, and you like sweets. That’s enough.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled softly. “Fine.”

He sat beside you on the bed, opening the lid of the cold box.

“Mint chocolate chip. Boring Nanami choice, but not bad.” He scooped a bit with the plastic spoon and held it out to you, exaggeratedly gentle. “Say ‘ahh,’ baby.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I can feed myself.”

“I know you can,” he said, his grin widening, “but why would you when you have me?”

You reluctantly leaned forward, letting him feed you the spoonful. He watched you intently, like every expression you made mattered.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, licking your lips. “Cold.”

“You know what else is cold?” Gojo leaned in a little, whispering theatrically. “Nanami’s heart. That man has no joy. He scolded us like we were horny teenagers. Which, fair, but still.”

You laughed softly, the sound making his eyes sparkle.

“Rude. I didn't do much to you,” he said, scooping another bite and feeding it to you. “I haven’t even gotten to the part where I—”

Then he stopped talking. His gaze dropped to your lips. And before you could ask why, he kissed you. Soft. Unexpected. Sweet at first, like he was testing the waters.

Your breath hitched in surprise, but you didn’t push him away. You froze for a second, unsure, heart thudding in your chest.

Then he kissed you again, deeper this time. His tongue flicked against your lower lip, and his hand came up to gently cup your cheek.

You whimpered softly against his mouth.

“God, you taste like ice cream,” he murmured, pulling away only to kiss you again, hungrier now. “You’re addictive…”

He leaned into you again, but the bedroom door slammed open.

“Gojo,” Nanami’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Gojo didn’t even flinch. He turned his head slowly with a sheepish smile. “…Giving her dessert?”

Nanami stormed across the room, yanked Gojo up by the collar of his shirt, and dragged him backward toward the hallway.

“Nanami, wait—ouch, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“You’re a goddamn pervert,” Nanami snapped, dragging him toward the couch. “She just had three men take turns on her and now you’re trying to make out with her while she’s resting?”

Gojo stumbled as Nanami let him go. “It was just a kiss!”

“You’ve got no self-control.”

“She kissed back!”

Nanami glared.

“…Okay, okay,” Gojo mumbled. “Fine. I’ll chill. Geez. You’re so uptight.”

He walked over to where Geto was now watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk. “Remind me not to make out with anyone while Nanami’s in the house.”

“Noted,” Geto said, sipping from his tea.

Nanami exhaled sharply, rubbed the bridge of his nose, then turned and walked back toward your room.

You weren’t on the bed anymore. He found you sitting on the small balcony outside your bedroom, curled up on the chair with your knees hugged to your chest. The night air was cool, brushing against your bare arms.

He stepped closer, leaned against the doorframe, watching you for a moment in silence.

“Hey,” he said gently. You looked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he added, voice low. “They’re… idiots. Wild, horny idiots.”

You offered him a tiny, shy nod and that seemed to soften something in him. He walked forward, ruffled your hair gently, and knelt beside your chair. “You’re okay though?”

“I think so.”

“You don’t have to say yes to everything they want, you know,” he said softly. “You can say no. You can tell me. I’ll back you up, always.”

You smiled faintly. “I know.”

He stood again and stretched. “Alright. Get some rest. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight.”

He walked away, shutting the door softly behind him.

And you sat there in the quiet, staring up at the sky. The stars were faint tonight, the city lights swallowing most of them.

You could still hear the muffled voices from the living room—Gojo laughing, Geto low and calm, Toji grumbling, and Nanami sighing in exasperation.

It had only been a few weeks since you moved in. A few weeks since you were just a girl with rent problems and zero experience.

Now? Everything was different now.

And you weren’t sure if you were overwhelmed or addicted to it.

to be continued in the next chapter

comment down to get tagged for upcoming chapters.

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more?

pairing : jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : explicit content, jealousy, threesome, dirty talk, objectification, oral, cumplay, possessive behavior, double-teaming, non-penetrative sex, rough handling, overstimulation, multiple partners, mdni, 18+, satoru gojo is a menace.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 5

Monday dragged like molasses.

Your lectures were back to back, your stomach was a hollow pit of instant noodles and too much coffee, and every professor decided today was the perfect day to drop a presentation or assignment.

By the time your last class ended, your legs felt like bricks and your brain was pudding. You barely remembered the ride home, just the hum of exhaustion carrying you up the elevator to your apartment and straight into the soft embrace of the couch. Empty. The place was completely silent when you walked in. A small miracle.

Everyone was gone — off to work or errands or wherever they disappeared to when you weren’t around. The absence of their presence was liberating in a way that sent a giddy, private joy rippling through your chest. No footsteps. No teasing voices. No Toji walking around in low-slung sweatpants. No Geto calling you his little thing just to make your face burn. And no Gojo with his wandering eyes and suggestive comments he somehow made sound innocent. Just you, and the still, rain-wrapped peace of the apartment.

You kicked your shoes off and peeled yourself from your clothes like they were weighted chains. The warm water of your shower rolled over your body, washing away the day. You stood under the spray longer than usual, letting your mind wander. You could wear whatever you wanted right now. No one's gonna pounce on you.

So, naturally, you reached for your absolute favorite outfit. A thin tank top—slightly see-through and completely braless—and those tiny black shorts that barely covered your ass. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment after dressing, feeling a little scandalous. The kind of scandalous that made your skin feel warmer than the towel you’d just discarded. You never wore this around them. Not even once. Maybe Nanami could be trusted around you in it… maybe. But the others? Definitely not. Especially Gojo. And definitely, definitely not Toji.

You padded through the apartment barefoot, the wooden floors cool under your feet. The soft patter of rain outside was the perfect backdrop as you turned on some low music and moved through the living room, hips swaying, humming under your breath. You danced a little, spinning once, letting yourself enjoy this rare moment of total freedom. Your body still buzzed from the shower and the heady rush of privacy. Just you, your music, and the sound of rain.

Feeling refreshed, you headed to the kitchen to make some coffee, comfort in a mug for the stormy weather. You hummed while setting the kettle, turning your head toward the window to watch the sheets of rain blur the city view.

And then—crack—a sharp, metallic snap from the faucet made you jolt.

The kitchen’s a mess. Water sprays from the broken pipe like it’s got something to prove, and you—drenched, shivering, tank top soaked through and clinging to your every curve, nipples stiff against the fabric, stare down the disaster. You’re about to go grab a towel when the front door opens.

Footsteps. Voices. Gojo and Geto.

You freeze.

They're wet too—caught in the storm on the way back from god knows where. Gojo’s shirt sticks to his abs, transparent now, his silver hair dripping. Geto pulls off his soaked jacket, the black tee underneath riding up just enough to show a sliver of toned stomach. And then Gojo sees you.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, pale blue eyes dragging over your soaked figure like he’s starving. His tongue slides across his bottom lip, and he doesn’t even try to hide the way his hand drops to his crotch. He palms himself through his jeans, slow, lazy, like it’s routine. Like he’s seen something he just has to jerk off to.

You blink. “Satoru—”

“Keep standing there like that and I swear I will cum in my pants,” he says, tone playful but strained, voice a little breathy. “That top’s so slutty, bunny.”

Geto’s quieter. He leans against the doorway, watching with dark, unreadable eyes. But his hand’s already under his shirt, sliding up his abs, and you realize he's hard too—his thick cock outlined clearly against his soaked jeans.

“Was just gonna grab a towel,” you say, stepping back. But you bump into Gojo’s chest, and he doesn’t let you go.

“Nuh-uh.” He crowds you, his breath hot against your neck. “You walk around dripping wet like that and expect us to behave?”

His fingers skim the hem of your tank, tugging it up just enough to reveal underboob. “Look at you. Fuck.”

Behind you, Geto finally moves, walks over, slow and heavy. You’re trapped.

“Can’t let her get cold, can we?” he murmurs, voice low and velvet-slick. “Might as well help her out of those wet clothes.”

Gojo hums in agreement, hands slipping under your tank. His thumbs circle your nipples, already hard from the cold. He chuckles darkly.

“Fuck, baby… you’re freezing. Should let me warm you up with my mouth.”

Geto’s fingers find your waistband, tugging your shorts down. “She’s soaked here too,” he says, voice thicker now, rougher. “Is this from the kitchen… or us?”

Your breath catches as Gojo drops to his knees, mouth brushing the inside of your thigh, his teeth grazing just enough to make you whimper. “C’mere, Suguru. Hold her steady.”

Geto steps behind you, big hands on your hips, pressing you forward. His cock grinds against your ass through his jeans as Gojo’s mouth finally seals over your soaked panties, tongue licking a stripe over your clit, hot and wet. You gasp, legs trembling.

“She’s dripping,” Gojo groans against you, his fingers sliding the fabric aside. “Tastes so fucking good.”

Geto’s lips brush your ear, one hand sliding up to palm your breast, thumb teasing your nipple through your soaked top. “You really let us find you like this? What were you thinking, baby?”

Gojo’s tongue works you open, flicking and sucking, relentless. He moans into your pussy like he’s starved for it, messy, wet, shameless.

Geto’s fingers dip between your legs from behind, two sliding in beside Gojo’s tongue. The stretch makes you cry out, body jerking in their grip.

“Fuck,” Geto hisses, “So tight. So fucking soft.”

Gojo looks up at you, lips slick, chin shiny. “You’re gonna cum just like this, aren’t you? Standing, soaking, stuffed with his fingers and my tongue.” He growls, “Do it. Fucking cum on my face.”

And you do—hips jerking, thighs shaking, their filthy mouths praising you as they devour every reaction. But they’re not done. Not even close.

Geto spins you around and lifts you effortlessly, carrying you toward the couch as Gojo strips off his shirt and pants, cock hard and flushed.

“Round two,” he grins, “and this time, I’m not just using my mouth.”

Geto pulls you back into his chest, lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss, tongue sliding against yours, rough and demanding.

Gojo stands, having his jeans down, cock heavy and leaking precum. He grabs your waist, lifting you with ease and setting you down on the couch.

Geto follows, stripping off his shirt and pants in one fluid motion, cock thick and glistening in the dim light.

Gojo kneels between your legs, fingers parting your folds, lips pressing hard to your entrance.

Geto leans over, lips trailing hot kisses up your neck, teeth grazing, tongue flicking, hands kneading your breasts, thumbs rolling your nipples until they ache.

“You’re such a filthy girl,” Geto growls. “Letting us see you like this.”

Gojo’s cock presses to your entrance, teasing, brushing over your folds.

“Ready for me?” Gojo rasps, voice thick with lust. You nod, breathless, trembling, soaked and slick and aching.

Gojo slides between your folds with one slow thrust, groaning as he felt the softness around him and started grinding into you. Geto’s fingers slide back inside you, curling deep as Gojo begins to grind more — slow, hard, claiming you with every stroke.

You’re lost between them, used, everything spinning as they take what they want. Gojo’s lips find your ear, hot breath and whispered filth making your skin crawl. “All mine. Our dirty little fucktoy.”

Geto’s hands knead your ass, pulling you closer, fingers tracing sinful patterns on your skin. “Say it, baby. Say you want us.”

You can barely speak, but you nodded, trembling, desperate. Gojo’s starts rutting into you grinding harder, faster, teasing your folds. Geto’s fingers move inside you, nails scraping just right.

You scream, lost in the fire of them, soaked and filthy and utterly, deliciously theirs. Gojo’s lips are still brushing your neck when he suddenly scoops you up, a gleam of mischief and want in his eyes. You're breathless, heart racing, as he carries you to the bedroom like you weigh nothing. Geto follows behind slowly, his gaze heavy on your hips, your ass, the way your thighs tremble around Gojo’s waist.

The room is dim, golden light filtering in through half-shut blinds. The rain outside pounds softly against the windows, a rhythmic, steady drum that matches your heartbeat.

Gojo drops you onto his mattress with a bounce and climbs over you immediately. His cock straining, thick and twitching, hard and flushed, leaking at the tip.

You barely manage a gasp before he’s grinding down into you — slow and deep, right between your legs — dragging the length of himself over your cunt like he’s starving.

“Fuck,” Gojo groans, letting his forehead fall against yours. “This—this is enough to ruin me.”

Your back arches under him, the pressure making your thighs shake, that slick mess between your legs getting hotter with every rut of his hips. He moves deliberately, pelvis rocking against yours, the friction unbearable. There's no protection from the drag of his cock along your folds, the way his cock slides up and down with every thrust.

You gasp again, head falling back, and Gojo takes the opportunity to mouth at your throat — biting, licking, sucking like he wants to mark every inch of you.

“Feel that?” he pants, grinding slower now, dragging his cock right over your clit. “I can feel how wet you are. You’re fucking soaking, baby—this cunt's beggin’ for it.”

He doesn’t stop rutting, hips rolling deeper, humping you like a dog in heat. His hands roam everywhere — squeezing your tits, palming your ass, curling around the back of your knees to press you open wider, just to rut harder between your thighs.

Geto watches from the door, arms crossed, a crooked smirk on his face.

“You two gonna burn the mattress before I even get a turn?” he mutters, but he doesn’t move to stop it. Just watches. Eyes sharp, jaw clenched, the thick bulge in his own boxers telling you exactly how much he’s enjoying the show.

Gojo laughs breathlessly, still humping into you with a steady, filthy rhythm. “C’mon, Suguru, look at her—look how much she likes this. Can’t even lie, can you, baby?”

You don’t answer. Can’t. You’re too gone — head spinning, nails raking down Gojo’s back, breath coming out in soft, broken gasps. Your clit is throbbing, pulsing under the drag of his cock and your thighs squeeze around his hips instinctively, like you’re trying to trap him there forever.

Geto hums, then turns. “I’ll grab water,” he says with a lazy grin. “Since you’re clearly not done anytime soon.”

Gojo doesn’t even look up — just bites at your shoulder and grinds harder. “Mmm, more for me.”

You let out a strangled whimper, hips bucking up into his, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming stimulation. Gojo shifts his angle just enough to rub over your clit more firmly, and your legs twitch, a choked moan slipping past your lips. He groans at that.

“Shit, I could hump this little pussy for hours. You like that? Like me using you like this?” He’s panting now, messy and loud. “You’re making a mess on me, fuck—your slick’s all over my cock.”

You barely manage a nod before his hand slides under your ass, grabbing a handful and grinding in even harder. Your whole body jerks at the pressure, and he chuckles darkly.

“You gonna cum like this, baby? From just humping?” He kisses your cheek, then your mouth — dirty, open-mouthed, breath mixing hot between you. “Yeah you are. Fuckin’ filthy.”

The door creaks. You hear Geto return, but you’re too dizzy with pleasure to react. He sets the glass on the nightstand and walks back to the bed just as Gojo drags out another slow, brutal grind against your swollen clit. You gasp so loud it echoes, thighs trembling around his hips.

Geto's voice cuts through the haze, low and sharp. “Alright, my turn.”

Gojo keeps going, even as Geto steps closer.

“Oi—Satoru,” Geto says again, more firmly this time.

Gojo groans in frustration but doesn’t stop, grinding down hard again. “C’mon, Suguru—she was about to cum on me—just a little longer—”

Geto doesn’t wait. He grabs Gojo by the shoulder and yanks him back with enough force to break the rhythm. Gojo curses and flops onto the mattress next to you, chest heaving, hair a mess. He’s pouting, literally.

“Bastard.”

Geto ignores him completely. He climbs over you next — slower, more controlled, but the hunger in his eyes is unmistakable. His body is hotter, heavier, more intense. He slides between your thighs and presses down, his thick cock grinding into the same soaked spot Gojo left wet and throbbing.

“Already ruined her for me,” Geto mutters, voice low and rough. “Look how soaked she is... fuck.”

You gasp again as his first thrust rolls into your hips, the friction deeper, firmer, grinding hard right against your clit with devastating precision. His cock drags through your folds, slow and cruel.

“You feel this?” he whispers against your neck, biting softly at the skin just under your ear. “I could do this for hours. Keep humping this pussy ‘til you cry.”

His hands grab your thighs, spreading you open so he can rut deeper. His abs flex with every rock of his hips, his cock grinding against your soaked slit over and over, dripping precome mixing with your slick until there’s a sticky mess between you.

Gojo flops over to your other side, breath still shaky. He grins lazily, eyes half-lidded.

“Looks so good, huh?” he murmurs, brushing your hair back. “Watching him fuck you like that…”

You whimper, too overwhelmed to reply, hips jerking up into Geto’s grind. Then Gojo’s voice turns playful — softer, filthier.

“Hey... y’wanna help me out, baby?” he whispers, curling closer. “My cock’s so hard it hurts…”

You look over at him, dazed and trembling. He’s already stroking his cock, thick, flushed, twitching against his stomach, a drop of precome glistening at the tip.

Gojo smiles like he’s won a game. “Use your mouth, baby. Please? Just a little?”

You open for him. He sighs in bliss the second your lips wrap around the head of his cock.

“God—yeah, just like that…”

Geto is still grinding deep into you, slow and heavy, hips rolling like waves crashing into your soaked pussy. Every thrust sends pleasure up your spine, while your tongue works around Gojo’s cock, licking and sucking the head, letting him slide in and out of your mouth.

They moan together, deep, masculine, wrecked sounds. Their bodies are pressed against yours, the heat unbearable, the room filled with the slap of skin on skin, the wet sound of cock grinding against your soaked cunt, and Gojo’s cock slipping past your lips.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Gojo pants, hips jerking forward into your mouth.

Geto grunts above you, grinding harder, faster, your clit screaming from the overstimulation. “Me too—fuck—gonna cum all over this little cunt.”

You’re a mess between them. Slick. Trembling. Whimpering.

Gojo cums first, hot and thick, spilling onto your tongue with a gasp, his fingers curled in your hair as he rides it out.

Geto’s next. A few more brutal grinds and he’s groaning, voice strained and rough, humping into you until his cock twitches against your cunt and he spills onto you, all over you, hips stuttering.

You’re gasping between them, lips swollen, pussy aching and soaked, body trembling as they finally collapse beside you — two wrecked, breathless men and one utterly ruined girl.

They’re still touching you. Still murmuring filth. You’re barely catching your breath when Geto sits back, dragging his shirt on, body still glistening with sweat. He leans down, presses a soft kiss to your temple — a rare act of tenderness after such a filthy hour — and mutters, “That’s enough for now. Poor girl needs a damn break.”

You nod absently, body sore and trembling beneath the weight of it all. But Gojo hasn’t moved. He’s still next to you, half-naked, his briefs damp and clinging to his thighs, his cock twitching against the waistband like it didn’t just finish minutes ago.

His eyes are glassy, lips parted, and he’s looking at you like a man starved. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and he hasn’t blinked since Geto spoke.

Geto stands up with a roll of his shoulders, glancing down at him with a raised brow. “Seriously, Satoru?”

Gojo’s hand drifts across your belly, fingers brushing just beneath the dio of your waist. His voice is hoarse, wrecked.

“…I need more.”

Geto sighs. “Let her breathe.”

“She said yes,” Gojo mutters, almost like a plea. “Didn’t even have to beg. She wants me too.”

You didn’t mean to, but you had. How could you not? When he whispered that filth into your ear, when his hand slid back between your thighs… you nodded, drunk on the aftershocks, dazed and aching and needy. Geto mutters something under his breath, rubbing his temple.

“Insatiable bastard,” he says as he steps out of the room. “I’m getting snacks. Don’t kill her.”

And then the door closes.

Gojo wastes no time.

He shifts, sliding between your legs again like it’s the most natural place in the world. His eyes are blown wide, jaw clenched as he hooks your thighs around his waist and presses his body flush against yours.

There’s no more teasing in his expression, only hunger. A sick kind of reverence. Like he needs this. Like his sanity depends on the heat of your body and the way your breath hitches every time he ruts against you.

“Fuck—can’t stop thinking about it,” he groans, grinding down into your soaked folds again. “You let me do that... you took it so good. I need to feel you again. Just one more—just one more, bunny, please…”

He’s already humping before you can answer, his hips thrusting slow but deep, his cock dragging through the mess between your legs, soaking yours all over again.

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

His grip is tighter this time, desperate, one hand on your waist, the other cupping the back of your thigh, holding you open as he rocks into you.

The friction is torturous. The wet slaps of his cock to your cunt, grinding perfectly against your clit with every rut.

“You’re still so wet,” he pants, his lips brushing your collarbone, kissing, licking, mouthing against your skin. “It’s like your cunt missed me.”

You whimper, hips bucking into his rhythm, and that only makes him go harder. His hips snap forward, and the noise that escapes him is borderline unholy, loud and broken and filled with need.

“Fuck, yes—just like that. Gimme that pretty cunt, baby. Lemme fuck it like this—raw, dirty, fuckin’ messy.”

His voice is a growl now. Every movement is greedy, possessive, he’s not trying to edge anymore. He wants it. Craves it. He’s chasing that high again, already close but drawing it out, grinding like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to feel you.

You sob against his shoulder, body rocking with every thrust, your clit burning from the raw friction, the heat unbearable. Gojo presses his forehead against yours, breath hot and ragged.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect—God, I can’t stop,” he whispers, thrusting harder now. “Don’t stop me, baby, don’t—lemme have you, lemme use you just like this.”

You cling to him, nails digging into his back, letting him take what he needs.

The bed creaks beneath you both. The sounds are obscene—slickness grinding against slickness, skin slapping, Gojo’s desperate moans echoing off the walls.

Outside the bedroom, the door creaks open again.

Geto peeks in, maybe to ask if you’re still breathing — only to see Gojo buried between your thighs, his hips moving in frantic, sloppy thrusts, his voice whimpering your name like a prayer.

Geto exhales like he’s seen this before. “Christ.”

Gojo doesn’t even notice him. “Gonna cum,” he groans. “Gonna fuckin’ cum like this—don’t stop me—please—”

Geto stares for another second, then quietly shuts the door again. You hear his voice fading down the hall. “I’m turning the volume up.”

Gojo’s humping even faster now, cock twitching on your cunt, the muscles in his stomach clenching as he chases his release.

“Almost there,” he moans, face buried in your neck, tongue dragging up the side. “Almost—fuck—fuck, baby—keep takin’ it—be my good girl—”

Your body jerks beneath him, every nerve raw and overstimulated, pleasure blinding, white-hot. He lets out the loudest moan yet — wrecked and high — and then his whole body shudders. He keeps grinding, slower, through the orgasm, panting into your skin, spilling all over you again while your thighs squeeze around him.

The wet heat of his cum soaks through your folds and hot against your cunt, and he finally collapses with a groan, body heavy on top of you. You’re both drenched. Breathing hard. Still twitching from it all. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t move. Just rests there, lips brushing your shoulder, hips twitching every now and then like he still hasn’t come down.

“…Thanks bunny,” he whispers, voice ragged and dazed.

You hum in response, your fingers brushing through his hair as he nuzzles into your neck like he belongs there.

And in the other room, the sound of the TV drowns out everything else.

**********

You’re still lying there, tangled up in Gojo’s arms under the mess of warm, sweat-damp sheets. The room’s dim now, dusky with late evening light bleeding in through the blinds. Everything smells like skin and sex and sin. Your legs ache, your thighs sticky, your lips -swollen and tingling. You feel ruined. Fuzzy. Floaty.

And Gojo’s still not done talking.

He’s sprawled beside you, hair sticking to his forehead, his chest rising and falling beneath your palm as you rest your hand on him. He’s got that post-orgasm haze in his eyes, soft and sleepy, but the grin on his face is all wicked. Mischievous. Filthy.

“Y’know…” he murmurs, voice low and playful, “I’ve been thinking about doing this to you since the day you moved in.”

You blink slowly, heart skipping.He hums and continues, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder.

“The way you walked in that day—wearing that cute outfit, acting all shy and proper? You drove me fuckin’ insane.”

He shifts closer, one hand sliding over your belly, teasing.

“I wanted to get my face between your legs before I even knew your name,” he laughs, voice shameless, lips brushing your ear. “Bet your pussy’s even prettier when you cry.”

A shiver rips down your spine. You can’t help it. The heat in your belly sparks again. Gojo grins when he feels you react.

“You’re so sensitive. Still trembling for me. God, baby… if Toji ever finds out, he’s gonna be so fucking mad.”

You flinch at the name. Gojo sees that. He doesn’t stop.

“You think he’d lose it? Bet he’d throw me through a wall,” he snorts, nuzzling into your neck like the thought actually amuses him. “He’s probably gonna rip my dick off. But… worth it.”

He’s so casual about it, like this isn’t a disaster waiting to happen.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Geto’s lounging on the couch, snacking from a bowl of chips, watching TV like he didn’t just spend an hour raw-humping you into the mattress earlier.

And that’s when the front door opens with a thud. Toji stomps in, drenched in sweat, his tank top clinging to every muscle, hair wet from the gym and the weather. He’s muttering curses about the rain, his duffel bag swinging over his shoulder.

“Fucking weather,” he snarls, toeing off his sneakers. “Almost drowned out there.”

Geto smirks at him from the couch. “Welcome back.”

Toji wipes his face with a towel, glancing around. “Where’s Gojo?”

Geto lazily gestures toward the hallway. “In his room.”

Toji scoffs, already annoyed. “That lazy brat’s always sleeping.”

Geto chuckles, eyes twinkling. “He’s real busy in there.”

Toji snorts, tossing the towel over his shoulder. “Yeah? Jerking off or something?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

That gets his attention. Toji turns slowly, eyebrows knitting together. “Wait. Where’s she?”

Geto munches on another chip, then points in the same direction. “Same room.”

Toji freezes. “…Don’t tell me. Don’t fucking tell me—”

He storms down the hall before Geto can say another word. His footsteps are heavy, furious, the kind that make the floor vibrate slightly.

The bedroom door slams open with a bang. You jolt up, heart leaping into your throat. Toji stands in the doorway, drenched, wild-eyed—and the second his gaze drops to the bed, to your disheveled figure under the sheets beside Gojo, his expression shifts into something violent.

“What the fuck is this!?”

Gojo barely has time to sit up before Toji’s yanking him out of the bed by the hair.

“Fuck—Toji, wait!—ow—!”

He’s completely naked, trying to swat Toji’s hand away while shouting a breathless string of apologies that sound more like mocking laughter than regret.

“I was gonna tell you! I swear—!”

“Tell me!?” Toji roars, eyes flashing, “You’re buck-ass naked in bed with her, and you were gonna tell me?”

You’re trembling, gripping the sheet to your chest, unable to speak. Shame and adrenaline war in your chest.

Toji’s chest heaves. His glare turns to you briefly—but the rage in his eyes softens just enough to make your stomach twist. You’ve never seen him like this. Furious. Protective. Possessive.

Then he storms back out, dragging Gojo with him.

“Geto!” Toji barks, stomping into the living room.

Geto doesn’t even look fazed. “Yup?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you two!?”

Geto shrugs, still eating chips. “Relax, old man.”

“Relax!? You two were in there with her! Doing shit! Don’t play dumb with me!”

Geto raises an eyebrow. “We didn’t fuck her.” He laughs loud, casual.

Gojo snickers, now struggling to pull his shirt over his head. “We left that to you, old man. We knew you’d been dying to pop her cherry.”

“Are you insane—!” Toji snaps.

From the room, you can hear all of it. Your face burns hotter and hotter, body curling up beneath the blankets as you hear their words. Your heart pounds. Embarrassment curls deep in your gut.

Then silence.

The door slams open again. And this time, it’s Toji.

Toji steps in, still seething, and slams it shut behind him with a click of the lock.

You scramble to sit up. “T-Toji—”

His eyes are blazing.

“Get under him once,” he growls, stalking closer, “and suddenly you forget about me?”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t—”

He grabs your face with one hand, tilting it up, thumb stroking your lip. There’s fury in his eyes, but underneath it—something darker. Something simmering.

“You let them touch you?” he mutters, voice low, dangerous. “You let that dumbass Gojo put his hands all over this body?"

You swallow hard, unable to answer. He pushes you back against the mattress with one hand, climbing over you with slow, deliberate movements. Every line of his body is taut, wet, heavy with power. Toji cages you in, his breath warm, furious against your cheek.

“They got their fill,” he murmurs, voice dipping lower. “Now it’s my turn.”

to be continued in the next chapter

comment down to get tagged in the upcoming chapters.

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more ?

pairing : Jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

content warning : explicit content, sexual teasing, lap-sitting, objectification, humiliation kink voyeurism, oral, power dynamics, alcohol use, mild coercion, handjob, possessiveness, mdni, 18+.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 4

Another weekday came.

You drag your feet up the stairs, exhausted from a long day at college. The lectures were dull, your back ached from sitting, and the only thing pushing you through was the comfort of home, of silence, of solitude. But the moment you open the door, the scent of something sweet and cinnamon-y greets you… and so does he.

Gojo’s lounging on the couch, shirt half-open, silver hair messy like he just rolled out of bed. “Yo,” he grins as he spots you, his blue eyes gleaming. “Back from the dungeon?”

You shut the door gently, already wary. “…Yeah.”

“You look tired.” He stretches his long limbs lazily, then pats the space next to him. “C’mere. Sit for a sec. Let’s talk.”

You sighed, your bag still hanging from your shoulder. Gojo tilts his head, eyes narrowing with mock offense.

“What, I’m scary now? After last night?” His voice dips, smooth as honey, and your stomach flutters.

Your feet move on their own. He doesn’t let you take the spot beside him. The moment you're close enough, his hands find your hips and he pulls you right onto his lap, facing him.

“Much better,” he murmurs. “God, you’re so warm.”

Your breath catches, hands instinctively bracing against his chest. “Mhmm. . . Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he corrects. “Call me that when you’re this close.”

“Satoru,” you whisper, unsure. His hands rest low on your waist, fingertips teasing small circles against your sides.

“You looked so cute this morning. That little pout you had while leaving?” He grins. “Bet you were thinking about that day the whole time.”

Your cheeks burn. “I wasn’t.”

“Liar,” he coos. “Don’t worry, I was thinking about it too. The way you gasped when I touched you here…” One of his hands grazes just beneath your breast, not quite touching but close enough to leave you breathless. “You make the prettiest sounds.”

You grab the front of his shirt tighter, as if that might stop your face from heating up. But he’s relentless.

“Your style’s gotten cuter lately,” he murmurs. “Not that I’m complaining, but it’s distracting. I mean, short skirts like that?” He exhales dramatically. “You trying to kill me, baby?”

Your lips part in surprise, not expecting the pet name. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” He smiles like a wolf. “That’s what makes it worse.” His hips shift just slightly beneath you. You stiffen.

“Relax,” he whispers. “I’m not even moving my hips—see?” He gives a tiny demonstration, staying still… then very slowly rolling them up. “Yet you’re holding me like I might devour you. Makes me wonder…”

You look away, flustered.

“…If you want me to.”

Before you can say anything, the bedroom door creaks open, and Geto steps into view, towel over his shoulder and shirtless. He stops at the sight of you in Gojo’s lap. Raises an eyebrow. “Already humping her?”

Gojo scoffs. “Ugh, I’m not. I ain’t even moving my hips—see?” He wiggles his eyebrows and lifts both hands, showing them off dramatically. “I’m being good.”

Your grip tightens again, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt in embarrassment.

Geto snorts. “Sure you are.” He ruffles his hair and heads for the bathroom. “Freak.”

Once he’s out of sight, Gojo hums and leans in closer to you, breath warm against your neck. “Aw, don’t mind him. He’s just jealous.”

“Satoruuuu… why are you like this?” you mumble, flustered beyond words.

“Because you’re irresistible,” he teases. “Seriously, you should see how your face changes when I even suggest something dirty. It's so cute. Like now.”

His hand lifts to brush your cheek gently. “Do you even know how tempting you are? All I wanna do is tilt your chin up and—”

Before he can finish, you do it for him. You tilt your head and meet his gaze with your eyes. For a moment, Gojo stares. Surprised. Then delighted.

“Whoa. You’re really something,” he murmurs, voice dropping an octave. “Maybe I should take you out to dinner… y’know, as roomies, ofcourse.”

You blink. “Dinner?”

He nods like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “Yeah. You and me. Get dressed up, eat something nice, pretend we’re not thinking about each other naked the whole time.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. “Satoru—you!”

“I’m kidding.” He pauses. “Sorta. Not really.”

You exhale and giggle softly, struggling to keep up. He gives you a dramatic sigh and then nudges your nose with his.

“You’re too sweet. Bet you can’t even say no to me.”

You open your mouth as if to argue. But then close it. He’s not wrong.

“See?” he smirks. “So dinner it is. I’ll even behave. Promise.” Before you can respond, he adds brightly, “Also, wanna grab ice cream first?”

Your brows furrow at the sudden change in topic. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he repeats, like it's obvious. “Let’s go down the street. You deserve a treat for surviving college.”

“…Okay.” Your eyes lightens up at the word *Ice cream*.

“God, you’re the best,” he beams. “C’mon, I’ll buy your favorite.”

As he lifts you off his lap and grabs his wallet, you feel dazed—caught in Gojo’s whirlwind of teasing charm and velvet words. And somewhere deep down, beneath the fluttering nerves and heated cheeks, you wonder if dinner with him could really stay innocent….

After the ice cream run, gojo dropped you off at home, leaning over the steering wheel with that infuriating grin.

“Bunny, I’ll come back, okay? Need to get something.”

You blinked at him and just nodded. “Okay.”

Then you leaned in, gave him a soft hug through the open car door, and sent him off with a quiet bye.

**********

After what felt like an eternity…

You were curled up on the couch in the living room, phone in hand, lazily scrolling while Toji flipped through the channels, Geto nursed a cold drink, and Nanami sat with a thick book resting on his knee. It was quiet, calm, just the hum of the fan and the occasional clink of ice in a glass. Until Gojo burst through the front door like a damn storm.

“Guess who’s back with surprises?” he sang, white hair messily bouncing as he tossed several shopping bags onto the coffee table.

Toji groaned. “The fuck did you buy now?”

“Clothes. For everyone.” Gojo smirked, pulling out shirts and jackets—stylish, flashy pieces clearly meant for him and Geto.

“Why would I want—” Geto began, but Gojo cut him off.

“Oh, and some for our sweet girl,” he said, holding up a few bags with a teasing glint in his eye as he looked at you. “Special delivery.”

You blinked, confused. “For me?”

Gojo’s white hair flopped as he tilted his head at you with mock offense. "Ofcourse, baby. Who else do I spend my money on these days?" He winked, then began pulling out outfits—except they weren’t really outfits. They were scraps of fabric disguised as tops, barely-there skirts, see-through dresses, and worst of all: lingerie.

“Yup. Go try it on. Right now,” he insisted, practically bouncing on his feet. “You have to show everyone. C’mon, it’s a house rule now.”

Everyone’s eyes were on you. Toji raised an eyebrow, Nanami didn’t even look up from his book, and Geto just sipped his drink with vague amusement. You bit your lip and nodded, trusting Gojo’s easy smile. You padded away to your room with the bags in hand. You pulled out the first one. The second you opened it, your heart dropped. It was a swimsuit. No—barely even that. A skimpy, shimmering one-piece that clung to your body like it was painted on. The neckline dipped scandalously low, the sides were cut high over your hips, and the back? Nonexistent. It barely covered your ass. Heat flushed your skin. There was no way you could—

“Babyyy?” Gojo called from the hallway. “Are you dead in there? Put it on and come out. Pretty please?”

You stood in front of the mirror for a second too long, toes curling against the floor, pulse racing. Why did you feel so hot already?

When you stepped out into the living room, the silence was immediate. Their heads turned. Toji’s eyes widened, Geto tilted his head, Gojo’s lips parted, and Nanami… Nanami just slowly closed his book.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” Gojo whispered, gaze crawling down your body like a goddamn wildfire. “You’re—baby, you’re glowing. Like a slutty little mermaid.”

Your cheeks flamed. “Satoruu… stop teasing me...”

“I mean it. Turn around,” he said, making a slow rotating motion with his finger. “Let the boys see.”

You hesitated, but he gave you those pleading puppy eyes again, and you turned awkwardly on your heel. The moment your ass came into view, the air changed. Toji groaned, low and dangerous.

“You tryna kill me, brat?” His hand was already over his crotch, shamelessly palming the growing bulge. “Fuck—can see the curve of your cunt through that damn thing.”

Your knees almost buckled.

Geto, more composed, just dragged his eyes up and down your chest with a small, devilish smile. “Your tits look like they’re about to pop out, sweetheart.”

"Next one," Gojo said. "Let’s see them all."

Outfit after outfit. A lace teddy. A see-through bodysuit. A fishnet dress with barely anything under it. Each time, you came out shaking slightly, biting your lip, and each time their comments grew filthier.

Toji: "Jesus, you’re gonna make me bust a nut without even touching myself."

Gojo: "You even know what you’re doing to us, bunny? Or are you just that dumb and sweet?"

Geto: "She knows. Look at her. She likes this."

Nanami looked like he was trying not to explode. His fingers tightened around the spine of his book. “What the hell did you buy her, Satoru?”

Gojo shrugged with a grin. “She looks good, doesn’t she?”

“That’s not the point,” Nanami snapped. “It’s—this is completely inappropriate.”

“She didn’t say no, did she?” Gojo countered. “She walked out on her own.”

Your breath hitched. The room felt thick, charged with their attention. You were too exposed, too aware of every pair of eyes on you. You just stood there, used like entertainment, soaked and needy and confused.

"Fuck," Toji muttered, eyes wild. "I need ten fuckin’ minutes."

"Same," Gojo agreed, slapping your ass gently. "You’ve got us all fucking feral."

They left, laughing and joking about taking care of themselves. You stood in the living room, alone, breath shaky, unsure what had just happened—but your body was buzzing, throbbing, wanting.

They were… taking care of themselves. Because of you. That thought went straight to your cunt. Your skin burned. You ran to your room shutting the door, panting.

When gojo and toji returned, the tension still clung to the air. Nanami stood, brows furrowed, ready for war.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he barked at Gojo. “Buying that for her? Making her wear it in front of everyone?”

Gojo threw his arms up. “Relax. She wouldn’t have worn it if she didn’t want to. She likes looking pretty.”

“She doesn’t know any better,” Nanami hissed. “She trusts you idiots, and you take advantage of that.”

“She’s not a damn child, Nanami,” Toji grunted, fresh from his room, shirtless, looking thoroughly wrecked. “She’s got a body made to be looked at.”

Nanami’s nostrils flared. “Disgusting. All of you. You’re nothing but perverts.”

Geto chuckled softly, eyes still distant, clearly still replaying the memory. “He’s not wrong.”

Gojo gave a half-smile. “It’s just some clothes. We all have eyes.”

“You gave her some fuckdoll bikinis and told her to model it,” Nanami snapped.

“I didn’t hear her complain,” Gojo shrugged.

“That’s enough,” Nanami bit out, sitting back down and grabbing his book again with a huff. “Fucking perverts, the lot of you.”

You stayed in your room, heart still pounding, breath shaky, thighs pressed together—burning with something that had nothing to do with embarrassment. You weren’t sure what it meant. But you knew you’d say yes again.

***************

The days began blending into one another.

You’d wake up late—sometimes tangled in the softness of your blanket, other times groggy from everything the night before—only to find someone already waiting for you. Gojo, usually.

Half-dressed, sprawled across the kitchen island like a prince bored with royalty. He’d grin when he saw you, always with a cheeky, too-sweet "Good morning, bunny."

His hand would find your waist even when he had no reason to touch you. His fingers would slip under the hem of your shirt, his shirt most of the time, just to feel your skin, just to remind you how little space existed between your body and his whims. Geto would join in only when it amused him. Sometimes quiet, leaning back with a cigarette and those unreadable eyes. Other times, he’d circle you slowly, speaking into your ear with that smooth, lazy voice.

“You're wearing that today?” he’d ask, eyes gliding down your frame. “They’re going to lose their minds.” And by they, he meant himself, Gojo, and Toji—who never said as much but made his thoughts very obvious.

Toji didn’t talk much.

He didn’t need to. You’d catch him watching, always watching. From the corner of the room, his arms folded, expression unreadable until you made a mistake. Like bending down too far to grab a towel. Or curling up on the couch in those shorts. Then his gaze would harden, and you’d know—you did something. And Toji never let it slide.

“You do that on purpose?” he’d say lowly, already tugging you toward him, your protest drowned under a deep chuckle. “No need to play innocent, doll. We’ve all seen what you look like begging.”

And the thing was… you weren’t innocent. Not anymore. But still, the shame and heat burned fresh every time. And you never said no.

Even when Geto pressed you into the cushions one afternoon, arms on either side of your head, just to whisper all the things he'd like to do. Even when Gojo had you in his lap while playing a stupid video game, the remote long forgotten as his fingers teased slow, maddening circles over your clothed cunt, brushing too close. Or when Toji pulled you into his room under the pretense of needing help moving furniture—only to lift you onto the edge of his desk and murmur, “Sit still. Just wanna look at you for a bit.”

The worst, or maybe the best, was how they’d team up. Like you were entertainment. Like you were theirs to pass around, tease, wind up until you couldn’t breathe from the tension.

One weekend night, Geto and Gojo had cornered you in the living room. You were just trying to clean up their mess—cups, pillows, magazines everywhere. Gojo snagged your wrist, pulling you onto the couch with a smirk.

“C’mon, take a break. I'll do it later. You’re the best show anyway.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Geto was already at your other side, fingers tilting your chin so you had to face him.

“You know she likes the attention,” he told Gojo with a half-lidded grin. “Don’t you, sweetheart?”

You said nothing, but the heat rushing to your face was answer enough. Nanami walked in, paused, and exhaled sharply.

“Are you seriously doing this again?” His glare swept over the two, landing on you last—but it was softer, tinged with frustration and… worry?

You always felt at ease with him. He never touched you like they did. Never teased. He cooked. Cleaned. Helped with your assignments. Bought you icecream. And he always said the same thing when he caught you wrapped up in the other three’s games:

“You need to set boundaries.”

But you didn’t. Couldn’t. Didn't even really want to. Something in you craved it. The thrill. The heat. The way they treated you like glass and temptation at once.

Eventually, even Nanami stopped trying to lecture. He still watched. Still protected. But he also seemed to understand: you weren’t being held here. You could leave. You didn’t and that said more than anything.

And so, life went on.

You didn’t cook. You didn’t pay rent. You didn’t lift a finger around the house.

Geto and Nanami handled meals. Everyone splitted the bills. Gojo insisted on helping you with laundry—only so he could hold up your underwear and whistle.

“Didn’t know you had taste, bunny,” he’d tease, before shoving them back into the basket with a wink.

Sometimes they left you alone. Just long enough to remember what silence felt like. Then the door would open, the teasing would start again, and you’d forget why you ever needed quiet in the first place.

Weekends were hell. At least, they were when Satoru Gojo had his way—which he always did.

You never knew how he came up with the things he did. It was like his brain was permanently trapped in some dark corner of the internet, crawling with the filthiest, wildest ideas known to man.

And unfortunately, you were always the center of them. His little muse. His sweet, shy, shame-dripping favorite toy.

But this weekend, for once, it started out peaceful. Everyone else had gone out—Toji, Geto, and Gojo, God knows where.

It was just you and Nanami in the house. For hours, it felt like an entirely different world. You cooked together—well, mostly you watched and he explained the steps patiently while you clumsily followed along. You talked about class, friends, books, even random dreams you had as a kid. With him, the air always felt calm. Like you could breathe.

You laughed. You relaxed. And then, chaos.

The front door burst open, laughter and drunken footsteps flooding in, and just like that, your quiet day shattered into a thousand glittering pieces.

"Guess who’s back~!" Gojo’s sing-song voice rang through the apartment.

Toji followed right behind him with a heavy case of alcohol slung under one arm and an unreadable smirk curling his lips. Geto trailed last, cool and composed as ever, unbothered by the loudness as he peeled off his jacket and tossed it onto the nearest chair.

Nanami sighed deeply. "Ahh, here we go again."

He made a move for his bedroom, muttering something about work tomorrow—but Gojo wasn’t having it.

"Nanamin! Don’t even think about it! You’re staying. It’s family bonding time."

Nanami froze mid-step. "It’s not bonding. It’s a poorly disguised excuse to torment her."

"Same thing," Gojo grinned.

Nanami stared at him for a long beat, then sighed again. "Fine. I have nothing else to do anyway."

You were still standing there awkwardly, heart thudding, when Gojo suddenly clapped his hands together.

"Alright everyone! New game!" he declared, standing in the center like some sleazy ringmaster.

"Weekend fun! Drinking! Chaos! Kissing!"

"Kissing?" you echoed, blinking.

"Yep!" Gojo beamed.

Gojo stood in the center of the living room like some sparkly game show host. “Tonight’s special feature—drumroll, please—Kissing Roulette!” He spun in place, arms wide. “Like truth or dare, but better! We spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on…” He turned toward you with a shit-eating grin. “You have to kiss them for three minutes straight. In front of everyone.”

You froze, heat flooding your entire body. "W-What?"

Toji chuckled, voice low and gruff. "Three minutes? Shit, might need longer for that mouth."

Geto chuckled lowly, lounging back on the couch. “Three minutes, huh? Long enough to get a taste. Hope you don’t mind a little lap action too, sweetheart.”

Gojo giggled. "Better keep some tissues nearby."

Nanami groaned. "This is ridiculous."

But he didn’t leave. In fact, part of him—shamefully—was curious. Curious what you’d do. How you'd look. If you'd kiss him. But he shoved that thought aside.

You sat in the circle anyway, legs curled under you, heart fluttering like a caged bird. Gojo handed out drinks, pouring far too generously. Then Geto gave the bottle a slow, deliberate spin.

It landed on him.

"Oooh~" Gojo sing-songed. "Rigged! Rigged! I call foul!"

"Shut up," Geto said smoothly, already pulling you into his lap.

You gasped, hands instinctively landing on his chest. He was warm. Steady. His palm slid to the back of your neck, tilting your head as his lips captured yours without hesitation.

Gojo set the timer. "Three minutes! Go!"

Geto kissed like a man who had all the time in the world. Slow, deep, with lips that coaxed and teased, not just pressed. His tongue flicked against yours, coaxing quiet whimpers out of you. He chuckled into the kiss, whispering against your lips, "You always taste like trouble."

Toji’s eyes darkened, jaw tight.

Gojo was already leaning over your shoulder. "That’s not fair. He’s using tongue! That should be illegal!"

"No rules against it," Geto murmured, not breaking contact.

You whimpered, breathless, hands fisting in his shirt as his lips dragged down your neck before returning to your mouth. His hips subtly shifted beneath you, letting you feel just how affected he was.

You were flushed, squirming, barely aware of the time until Gojo announced, "Time’s up! Hands off my girl, Suguru."

Next spin—Gojo.

"Finally," he grinned. "C’mere, princess. Daddy missed you."

You barely had time to react before you were dragged into his lap. He kissed you hard, playful but filthy, tongue already teasing the edge of your lips, one hand trailing dangerously low on your back.

"Open up, baby," he murmured, breath warm against your lips. "Let me in."

He kissed like he wanted to own your mouth. Like he’d been starving. He moaned deliberately into the kiss just to make the others mad. When you whimpered, he pulled back and grinned. "I could do this all night. Bet you'd let me, too."

"You talk too much," Toji grumbled.

Geto only raised a brow, watching the wetness on your lips with amused eyes.

“Bet he’s hard already,” Toji grumbled.

“Of course he is,” Geto snorted. “He gets hard just watching her bend over.”

The bottle spun again. Gojo. Again.

"The gods favor me," he announced, scooping you up once more, pulling you back into his lap. This time, he cradled your hips, angling you just right over the bulge in his pants as he kissed you again—slower, deeper. His tongue slid past your lips with practiced ease, one hand sneaking under your shirt just to ghost over the skin at your waist.

Your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. Nanami looked away again, jaw tight.

Next spin. Toji.

He didn’t ask. He just hauled you onto his lap, spreading his legs wide so you were seated between them. His mouth slanted over yours like a promise—raw, rough, filthy. His tongue pushed into your mouth without warning. He bit your lip. Sucked your tongue. Groaned like he hadn’t kissed in years.

You gasped against him, trying to keep up. He gripped your ass with both hands, grinding you down on him so hard it made your head spin. Your fingers curled into his shirt, whimpering helplessly as he kept kissing, kept devouring.

"Fuck," he muttered, breath hot against your lips. "You kiss like you’re made for this."

The timer went off. He didn’t stop.

"Toji," Gojo warned.

Toji didn’t move.

"Toji," Geto said, more amused than concerned.

Still, he kissed you until Gojo literally reached over and yanked you out of his lap.

"That’s foul play!" Gojo huffed. "Disqualified!"

Toji only licked his lips. "Worth it."

Then, the bottle spun—and stopped. On Nanami.

Silence. Everyone turned to him.

His brows twitched. "No. I’m not doing that. Not unless she wants it."

Gojo leaned forward, smirking. "Look at her face and say that again."

You were trembling, lashes low, lips swollen and pink, your breath shaky—but you didn’t say no. Nanami sighed, muttering a quiet curse. Then he reached out, cupped your cheek, and pulled you into his lap gently.

His kiss was soft.

No tongue. No groping. Just the heat of his lips on yours, moving slowly, reverently. He didn’t say anything dirty. No jokes. Just silence. Just the soft sound of lips brushing, parting, brushing again. He kissed you like he meant it. Like you mattered. His face flushed. His hands didn’t roam. He didn’t say a word—just held you, kissed you, then let you go with a whisper-soft breath.

You sat dazed. The others stared. Even Gojo stopped talking. Geto raised an eyebrow. Toji scoffed, but even he looked tense.

Because it looked like lovers kissing.

"That’s not fair," Gojo muttered. "That looked like a fucking rom-com ending."

"Yeah," Toji grumbled. "What the fuck was that, Nanami? A date?"

Geto just raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t think you had it in you."

Nanami stood, brushing imaginary dust off his slacks. "Game’s over. It’s not funny anymore."

He walked to the couch, switched on the TV, and didn’t say another word.

But you sat there, lips tingling, heart racing—wondering why that kiss felt like the most dangerous one of all.

**********

The night had unraveled in a blur of laughter, games that got filthier with every round, and drinks passed around like candy.

One by one, they all began to drop—Geto retreating to his room without a word, Gojo passed out on the couch with limbs tangled around you like a needy octopus, and Toji… Toji had disappeared into your room for god knows what reason, certainly not a good one.

Nanami was the only one still awake. He hadn't drunk much—just enough to feel a buzz—but he stayed sharp. Watching. Thinking.

When the chaos quieted, he stood there silently, eyes scanning the mess that had once been a living room. A low sigh slipped from his lips when he saw where Toji had ended up, and then his gaze dropped to you.

Your were curled up awkwardly beneath Gojo's possessive weight, your head tucked into his chest, legs trapped under his.

Nanami moved without a word.

He approached, gently prying Gojo's limbs off you like he was defusing a bomb. You stirred, a soft little sound escaping your lips, but didn’t wake. Scooping you up into his arms, Nanami held you close, warm breath brushing your temple as he carried you out of the living room.

The scent of you—sweet, soft, laced with something sinful from the evening’s teasing—lingered around him. He didn’t take you back to your room. Toji was there. So he brought you to his instead. He laid you down on his bed like you were something fragile. Something that mattered. Then, quietly, he took Toji’s bed in the corner of the room.

But sleep never came.

The image of you clung to him—flushed face, swollen lips from the kissing game, the sound of your whimpers echoing in his head. The way your eyes had fluttered shut. The way your breath hitched when someone so much as teased your neck.

It was hell.

He lay there, fists clenched under the blanket, eyes on the ceiling. It was around 3 a.m. when he finally gave in. Rising slowly, barefoot on the floorboards, he walked over to you. You looked like a dream laid out on his bed—innocent, unguarded, and beautiful in the dim light. He sat beside you, hand reaching out before he could stop himself, brushing his fingers gently through your hair.

You stirred. A soft cough left your lips. He leaned in and grabbed the water from the nightstand, lifting your head as you sipped, eyes still dazed with sleep.

“Thanks,” you whispered, voice hoarse and sleepy. Then you smiled. That smile broke him.

Your lips were red, still a little glossy from the games earlier, your cheeks flushed from the warmth of the room, the remnants of alcohol, or maybe the memory of who kissed you last. You looked wrecked in the most innocent way. And Nanami couldn’t take it anymore.

He leaned down and kissed you.

A firm, desperate kiss, mouth molding against yours like he’d been holding back for far too long. And when you kissed him back—slow, soft, like you’d been waiting for him—he almost groaned. His lips trailed down, grazing your jaw, then your neck. He lingered there, breathing you in. You tasted like heat and desire and something dangerous. Then his mouth traveled lower leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses down your chest, past your ribs, pausing at the waistband of your shorts.

You tremble beneath him. You can feel his breath fan across your stomach. He looks up at you once, asking silently for permission, and you nod—slow, eyes wide, chest heaving. His fingers hook into your waistband, dragging your shorts and panties down in one slow, deliberate motion.

The air hits you. Cold. Exposing. But Nanami’s gaze… it burns. He settles between your thighs, pushing your legs apart gently, reverently. And for a moment, he just looks. His expression is unreadable—serious, intense. Then he exhales like he's been holding his breath for hours.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, voice gravelly.

You don’t get to respond, not when he dips his head and licks you.

The shock of it rips a gasp from your throat. You arch off the bed, thighs trying to close around his head, but he’s strong. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them even wider, keeping you open for him. He groans into you, and the sound is filthy. Raw. Like he’s starved and you’re the only thing that’ll satisfy him.

His tongue drags through your folds, slow at first, tasting, mapping. Then faster, flicking over your clit with skilled precision. Your fingers fly to his hair, clutching the golden strands as your hips buck up against his face.

“Nanami—oh my god—” You’re already shaking. He hums into you, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking gently, sending a jolt of pleasure through your spine.

“You taste,” he says between licks, “so fucking sweet.”

He dives back in, mouth moving faster, tongue lapping up every drop of slick. You cry out, writhing, overwhelmed by the intensity. He doesn’t let up. He’s relentless. Tongue swirling, lips suckling your clit, nose pressed against you like he wants to drown in your scent, your taste, your sounds.

You’re unraveling. Tension coils in your belly, tighter with every flick of his tongue, every obscene slurp.

And then he does it, he groans into your pussy, deep and guttural, the vibrations shaking through you, and you cum with a sob, thighs shaking violently around his head. He holds you through it, still licking, drawing it out, even as your legs twitch and your body trembles uncontrollably.

When you finally collapse back against the pillows, panting, sweating, spent—he pulls back. His mouth and chin are slick with you. He wipes it with the back of his hand, but the look in his eyes… it’s ravenous. Golden. Hungry.

He shifts up your body, kissing your stomach, your chest, your collarbone until he’s face to face with you again. He brushes a kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on him.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, blinking slowly, dazed. “That was…”

He smiles small, smug, hungry. “You’re not done.”

You blink. “Hmmm?”

He takes your hand and brings it to his lap. Only then do you realize, he’s hard. Painfully hard. His pants are stretched taut over his erection, the tip visibly straining, a dark wet spot forming at the top. You swallow hard.

“Can you?” he whispers.

You nod once. You slide your hand beneath his waistband and he groan softly when you finally wrap your fingers around him.

He’s thick. Heavy. Hot.

Your fingers barely close around the shaft, and he hisses through his teeth when you start to stroke him.

“Shit—” His voice is tight, strained, head tipping back. “Just like that.”

You stroke him slowly, tentatively at first, watching the way his jaw clenches, how his stomach tenses beneath your touch. Then you speed up—twisting your wrist a little on each upstroke, your thumb smearing the bead of pre-cum across the head.

“Faster,” he growls, hand gripping your waist. “Don’t tease me.”

You obey, fisting him harder, slick and smooth from how much he’s leaking. His hips jerk forward, fucking into your hand. You watch him lose control—watch his expression fall apart, his breathing ragged, his lips parted as he stares down at your hand working him.

“Gonna cum,” he gasps. “Fuck, I’m—close—”

You don’t stop. If anything, you grip tighter, jerking him faster. He moans your name, low and broken, and cums hard across your stomach, thick and hot and messy, ropes spilling over your skin. His entire body shudders with it, hands digging into your sides. He collapses over you, panting, head buried in your neck. Neither of you speak for a while.

Only the sound of your ragged breathing fills the room. Your hand is still wrapped around his softening cock, his cum sticky on your belly, his breath hot on your skin. He presses a kiss to your neck. Then another.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he murmurs, voice raw. “But I did,” he whispers. He exhales, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

“I don’t regret it,” he finally says. “But things are going to get… complicated.”

You smile faintly. “Mhmmm. . ..”

His fingers tangle with yours. And in the quiet after, with your body still trembling and your heart still racing, you wonder—who’s going to find out first?

Because the sun will rise soon. And you’re still in his bed. Covered in each other.

**********

The next day moves slowly, like a dream you’re still shaking off.

You act normal. Smile when you need to. Sit quietly at the kitchen table with your cereal, listening to Geto and Gojo argue about who used whose towel again. Toji saunters out of his room mid-morning shirtless, scratching his stomach, offering no greeting, just a grunted “move” as he passes behind you.

You feel Nanami’s absence. He’d gone to work early. Quiet as always. No trace of last night on his face. But you still feel it. Between your legs. In your chest. You’re more aware of your body than you’ve ever been.

By the time he returns—pressed and calm in his usual shirt and tie—you feel like you’re vibrating under your skin.

“Come with me,” he says softly. Not a question. You nod.

He doesn’t take you far. Just down the road, to a small local ice cream shop, the one with pastel chairs and faded menu signs and a little bell that jingles when the door opens. You’re surprised when he tells you to choose whatever you want.

You hesitate until he says, “All of them, if you’d like.”

And somehow you end up at a table with a tray stacked with scoops—strawberry, cookies and cream, matcha, chocolate fudge, mango sorbet. It looks childish. Ridiculous. But Nanami watches you dig in like you’re the only person in the world. He waits until your second bite of strawberry to finally speak.

“I need to apologize,” he says, voice low. “About last night.”

You stop mid-chew.

“I didn’t plan for that to happen. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

You look up at him. His expression is unreadable—still composed, still reserved—but his fingers are curled tightly around the edge of his cup.

“I’m not… ashamed,” he continues. “But you deserve better than someone losing control.”

You shake your head quickly. “It’s fine,” you whisper, heart thumping. He studies you. Like he’s trying to see if you really mean it.

“I liked it, Nanami,” you say, softer now. “I like you too. You’re always so kind to me. You always listen to me." You say, cheeks heating.

A long silence stretches between you. Then he smiles. Not a smirk. Not a condescending curl of the lips like Gojo’s. Not the amused grin Geto gives you when you blush. Not Toji’s smug little quirk when you’re squirming under his stare.

No, this smile is warm. Soft.

He takes your hand for just a second. Squeezes it. And then stands, offering you the last bite of chocolate before walking you back.

When you return, it’s almost late evening.

The apartment is lazy and golden with the last bits of sunset spilling through the windows. Gojo and Geto are lounging on the couch, legs tangled, a shared bowl of chips between them.

You try to slip past, quiet and unnoticed.

“Oi,” Gojo calls, mouth half-full. “Where’d you disappear to in the morning, bunny?”

You pause. He grins, wiping his fingers on his pants.

“I woke up and you were gone. Freaked me out, y’know. Thought you ran away or something. My poor arms felt so empty.”

You laugh softly, glancing toward Nanami. “Uhm… Toji went to my room, so Nanami took me to his bed.”

Gojo blinks. Then recoils.

“Toji went to your room? What the hell? What was he doing in there?” His voice rises, dramatic. “That old pervert must’ve been trying to sniff your panties again, I swear—has no one taught that man boundaries?”

You blink, startled, while Geto snorts behind him.

Gojo barrels on. “I told you, you should’ve just stayed with me on the couch. I would’ve kept you warm. Kept you safe. Kept your underwear where it belongs.”

You glance down, flustered, while Nanami clears his throat pointedly and walks away toward the kitchen.

“Seriously, though,” Gojo adds, stuffing more chips into his mouth, “what if he took pictures? That man has dead eyes. Like he’s seen things. Done things. He's got that 'secret folder on his phone' kind of vibe.”

You leave him rambling, muttering something about Toji and foot pics, and disappear down the hall before your cheeks combust.

The rest of the evening is a blur.

Dinner happens. Laughter fills the kitchen. Toji says nothing about the morning, just eyes you once when you refill your glass. You avoid his stare. You avoid all their stares.

Because it’s too hard to tell who sees what anymore. It’s not that they don’t touch you. They do. Constantly. Hands on your waist in passing. Thighs pressed too close on the couch. A palm to your ass that lingers longer than it should. Toji’s fingers brushing yours when he hands you a fork. Gojo’s casual lap-pulling. Geto’s soft-spoken praises whispered in your ear late at night when he thinks no one’s listening.

They’ve all marked you. Somewhere. Somehow.

And they all know about each other. They pass you around like a shared secret, but there’s a strange balance to it. Unspoken rules. Mutual understanding.

But Nanami?

He’s not part of their equation. Not really. He’s separate. For now, atleast.

And no one knows about the things that happen with him now. How his hands wander beneath your shirt after the lights go out. How his mouth presses into your skin with slow, reverent desperation. How he whispers soft filthy things into your eyes.

And you let him. Because when Nanami touches you, it’s never rushed. Never greedy. It’s not about claiming. It’s about craving.

And God, he craves you. Quietly. Constantly.

Sometimes it’s just his hand under your skirt while the others are asleep. Or your mouth on his in the hallway when no one’s watching. Or his fingers slipping between your legs while you cling to him, panting into his shoulder, his lips pressed to your ear as he murmurs filth like a prayer.

Sometimes he don’t even have to touch. He just looks at you a certain way, and your knees go weak.

But none of them know. Because how could they?

You're always covered in bruises and love bites anyway. Your neck. Your chest. Your thighs. Red and purple. Faint and dark. A mosaic of desire. No one knows which marks belong to who. And that’s how it stays.

Nanami likes it that way. Hidden. Secret. Sacred. Something they’ll never understand. Because while they joke and tease and share you—Nanami watches from the corner of the room, calm and composed, knowing exactly what you sound like when you cum with his name on your lips.

to be continued in the next chapter

comment down to get tagged for upcoming chapters.

[jinjoohaaa]

Room for one more ?

pairing : Jjk men x reader

synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?

cw : somnophilia, dubcon, groping, power dynamics, voyeurism, degradation, possessiveness, exhibitionism, sexual tension, oral, fingering, blowjob, dirty talk, jealousy, praise kink, overstimulation, 18+, mdni.

a/n : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *⁠.⁠✧ art by @/thatsallitchief

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Chapter 3

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the couch.

It was a quiet afternoon, and the warmth of the sun filtering in through the curtains had made everything feel hazy. You were in a loose tank top, too lazy to wear a bra under the heat. You’d only meant to close your eyes for a second, just rest your legs from walking around the apartment cleaning and folding laundry. You woke slowly, groggy, your limbs too heavy to move yet.

Something felt off.

There was pressure under your blanket, familiar weight and warmth. A firm, slow-moving hand that wasn't yours, lazily exploring the curve of your breast through your thin tank top. The fabric had ridden up slightly, baring your stomach. His thumb dragged over your nipple once—twice—just to see it pebble against the cotton.

You shifted faintly, blinking your eyes open and met Suguru’s eyes. He was crouched beside you, his face calm and lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. Something darker. His hand didn't stop. His fingers flattened against your chest, warm and languid.

“Shh…” he whispered, eyes never leaving yours. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

His voice was low and syrupy, intimate like a lover’s lullaby. You stiffened faintly, but your lips parted, breath shaky as your mind processed how relaxed he was, how natural this felt to him.

You didn’t push him away. He took that for what it was: permission.

Geto adjusted the blanket, tucking it tighter around your hips as if to preserve some modesty, but all the while, his hand slipped underneath it again—this time sliding in through the side of your tank top. His palm molded to your bare chest, fingers gentle, purposeful, tracing lazy circles around your sensitive skin.

“Didn’t know you sleep this pretty,” he muttered, thumb brushing your nipple, watching your lashes flutter at the contact. “Or maybe I did. It’s hard not to imagine it when you walk around the house like that.”

You squirmed faintly. Your thighs rubbed together, your body not sure how to respond—whether to be embarrassed or bask in the attention. Your silence made it worse. Or better, depending on the man.

Geto took his time.

Then came the sound of the front door clicking open. Gojo’s voice rang out, lazy and smug. “Well, well, what’s this?”

You tensed, blinking toward the source of his voice. He was leaning over the back of the couch now, looking down at you with a shit-eating grin, shades still pushed up into his silver hair.

“Suguru,” he said with a low whistle, “you’re seriously groping her in her sleep?” He grinned wider, eyes flickering down to the blanket. “And here I thought I’d get to be the first to cop a feel while she’s all dazed and warm.”

“Too slow,” Geto said easily, not bothering to stop. He was toying with your nipple now, watching the way you arched faintly into his touch.

“Damn, she's just letting you do all that.” Gojo’s tone dipped into something more dangerous, more amused. “You like this, baby?”

He came around the couch, plopped himself down right near your feet and stretched out—long legs crossed, arms slung over the backrest like he owned the place. His eyes wandered down the blanket lazily, tracing every invisible outline of your curves.

“Bet your tits were bouncing like crazy under this little top earlier,” he said with a crooked smile. “You always walk around with no bra when you’re home, or is today special?”

You turned your head into the cushion, whimpering faintly. "Satoruuuu...." You didn’t want to admit how wet you’d gotten. How hot it made you to be watched, touched, admired like this.

“Don’t hide your face now,” Geto murmured, dragging his fingers down to the slope of your waist. “We love when you act shy.”

Gojo leaned forward, tugging the blanket down just enough to expose the dip of your waist. “See?” he said with a grin. “So soft everywhere.”

His knuckles brushed along your thigh, and your hips gave the smallest twitch.

“I think she’s gonna melt if we keep talking like this,” Gojo said with a breathless chuckle. “Poor baby’s getting overwhelmed.”

Before anything more could happen, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Nanami.

He stepped into the living room, his eyes landing on the three of you. He froze. Then—quiet fury.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Geto’s hand instantly left your body. Gojo sat upright like nothing happened, stretching dramatically with a yawn.

“Afternoon, Kento,” Gojo drawled, voice as innocent as ever. “We were just… bonding.”

Nanami’s eyes narrowed. He stalked over to the couch, ripped the blanket off you—then yanked Gojo up by the front of his shirt, nostrils flaring.

“She’s half-dressed and blushing like she’s about to pass out,” he growled. “You two really can’t keep it in your pants, can you?”

Gojo said with a sheepish grin, though his voice had a defensive edge. “It's not like we were hurting her.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Nanami snapped. “She’s young and naive.”

You sat up slowly, eyes still cloudy from the touch and embarrassment. You didn’t say anything.

What could you say? That you liked it? That you let them? Your silence was louder than anything.

Nanami glanced at you, then at them. His expression was a mix of disgust and reluctant understanding.

“I swear,” he muttered, letting Gojo go with a shove. “You’re both goddamn perverts.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Gojo said lightly, smoothing his shirt.

“Of course you do.”

Nanami took your hand gently and helped you sit upright, checking your face. “You okay?” he asked under his breath.

You nodded slowly, flushed. "I'm fine, Nanamin."

“Don’t fall asleep out here again,” he muttered. “Especially not like this.”

You nodded again dumb and pleasing, as if you aren't gonna try the same shit again.

Then he turned to glare at the two men again before walking off. When he was gone, there was a beat of silence.

“Daddy’s mad,” Gojo murmured.

“Deserved it,” Geto said with a half-smirk, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still worth it, though.”

Gojo looked at you again—this time with a much softer gaze. “You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that?”

You looked up at them, lips slightly parted, big glossy doe eyes that screams "ruin me". And that’s exactly why they couldn’t leave you alone.

***********

It was later that evening when the front door creaked open again.

You were curled up on the balcony lounge chair, thumbing through a paperback, half-distracted by the breeze tickling your skin. The tank top clung to your chest in the humid air, your legs tucked under you in the softest pair of shorts you owned.

“Where is she?” came a voice from inside—low, gravelly, impatient.

Toji.

You peeked through the screen door as he stepped in, tugging off his dark jacket and glancing around. Gojo was sprawled lazily on the couch inside, flipping channels without a care, while the rest of the apartment remained quiet.

“She’s out on the balcony,” Gojo called with a sing-song lilt. “Don’t steal her. She’s my eye candy for the evening.”

Toji ignored him, walking toward you like a man on a mission. He slid the door open and leaned against the frame.

“You’re hiding out here,” he murmured, voice teasing as he looked you up and down. “Didn’t think you’d make me search.”

You smiled faintly, lowering your book. “Just reading.”

He nodded once, then offered a hand. “C’mon. I want company.”

Before you could ask what for, he tugged you gently up and led you inside, settling down on the middle of the couch and patting the cushion beside him.

Gojo squinted at him over his shoulder. “You know I’m literally right here, right? I am company.”

Toji snorted, arm thrown over the couch’s back. “Not interested.”

Gojo gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Wow. Rude.”

You giggled, curling up beside Toji. The TV droned on. Some crime show neither of you were really watching. Gojo eventually stretched his legs, mumbled something, and nodded off where he sat. You could hear his soft breathing, head lolled back, silver hair falling into his face.

Toji waited until the room fell quiet. Then his hand slid behind your lower back, palm pressing warm against the fabric of your top.

“He’s out cold,” he murmured, glancing toward Gojo with a smirk. “Figures. Can’t keep up for shit.”

You blinked at him, and he looked down at you—eyes sharp, glinting with mischief.

“Lay on my lap.”

You tilted your head. “Huh?”

“I said…” he murmured, voice lower now, “…rest your head on my lap.”

You hesitated, but the way he looked at you—commanding, lazy, waiting—left no room for argument. So you did, curling sideways onto the couch and nestling your cheek against his thigh. He shifted slightly beneath you, exhaling through his nose as he adjusted the waistband of his pants. You didn’t miss it. The subtle hitch in his breath, the flex of his fingers on your back.

“Comfortable?” he asked, but the way his voice dropped made the question feel loaded.

You nodded slowly. "Yeah."

“Good,” he said, palm moving to stroke along your side. “Didn’t think you’d behave this well tonight. I figured I’d have to drag you in here.”

You turned your face slightly, trying to adjust the angle—and suddenly, your nose brushed too close to the bulge forming under his sweats. Your breath hitched. He chuckled.

“Well now,” he muttered, voice dark. “That’s not very innocent of you.”

You tried to pull back, but he pressed a hand to your shoulder, gently keeping you where you were.

“Relax,” he said. “You’re just getting comfortable, right?”

You nodded dumb, obedient, heat crawling up your neck.

“Not your fault my dick’s in the way,” he murmured with a grin. “It’s just… in your face now.”

You whimpered faintly, face flushed, but didn’t move. Toji brushed his fingers through your hair, petting you slowly.

“You like it?” he asked, eyes never leaving your blushing expression. “Having it so close. Being your little pillow.” You swallowed.

“Bet you’ve been thinking about this. After what I did to you the other night…”

Your thighs squeezed together. He smirked, thumb trailing down to your jaw. “You were soaked on my fingers, baby. You think I forgot?”

You blinked up at him with wide eyes.

“Mm, yeah. I remember how you clenched around them. How you whimpered when I touched your tits.”

His hand slid down, brushing against the curve of your hip, just barely teasing the waistband of your shorts.

“You’re so soft when you’re like this,” he murmured. “So dumb and pliant.”

He paused. Then adjusted again—and this time, the hardness in his pants pressed more obviously against your cheek.

“I could have you like this every night,” he whispered, tone filthier now. “Curled up on me, face full of cock, whimpering and flushed while the others sleep.”

You whimpered, hands clutching the couch cushions, legs rubbing together slowly.

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you?” he asked, stroking the back of your head. “Wouldn’t even complain.”

You nodded slowly nuzzling your cheeks on his crotch, shame pooling deep in your belly. "Mhmmm."

“Fuck,” he muttered.

You shifted slightly and that was all it took. His hips twitched, and he exhaled through his nose.

“Open that pretty mouth, baby,” he whispered. “Be a good girl for me.”

You didn’t anything. Just leaned in a little closer. And Toji’s grin widened.

Your lips hovered barely an inch away from the bulge in Toji’s sweats. You could feel the heat of it through the fabric, pulsing, heavy, almost demanding your attention. His palm rested gently on the back of your head now, fingers threading lazily through your hair as if he had all the time in the world.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice honeyed filth. “Didn’t even have to ask twice.”

Your breath caught when he rolled his hips up just slightly, enough for the pressure to nudge against your lips through the cloth. He hissed through his teeth. “Shit. You don’t know what that does to me.”

You were melting, every part of you raw and responsive. You blinked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted without even realizing it. That was all the invitation he needed. He slid his fingers under your jaw and tipped your face upward, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“You wanna make me feel good, sweetheart?” he asked, low and slow. “You wanna be useful for something other than being passed around?”

You nodded. Soft. Dumb. Willing. His smirk deepened. “Then open your mouth.”

You did. Slow. And he groaned like he was restraining himself from devouring you right there. Toji didn’t even pull his sweats down all the way. Just enough to free himself, thick and heavy against your lips. You barely had time to register the size of it before he was brushing the head along your bottom lip, smearing a bit of pre-cum there like it belonged. He exhaled shakily, his hand gripping the couch cushion.

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed. “That mouth… dangerous."

You licked your lips instinctively, tasting him and that earned you a rough, satisfied grunt. His fingers tangled in your hair now, less gentle, more desperate. Then—slowly—he pressed the head past your lips.

“Just a little,” he breathed. “Let me feel that heat.”

You did your best. Took what you could. Let your tongue swirl and your lips wrap tight while he held your head in place and fucked into your mouth with slow, shallow thrusts. His voice was low and cracked.

“God, you’re perfect. Fucking perfect.”

The lewd wet sounds filled the room, embarrassingly loud against the muted hum of the television. Every soft gag, every slick pull of your lips earned more praise from him—filthy, breathless things.

“Such a good little thing,” he growled. “Taking it so sweet. Bet you’d let me do this every night. Mouth full of cock, ass in the air—just how I like you.”

Your thighs pressed together, your underwear already soaked. Then his voice dropped lower.

“Bet you’d let Gojo watch too. Wouldn’t even stop me.”

Your eyes flicked to Gojo—still asleep, stretched across the other couch. His white hair was tousled, chest rising slow and steady. He looked angelic. Innocent.

The exact opposite of what Toji was doing to you. You moaned softly around him, and Toji groaned in response.

“Yeah, you like that idea, huh?” he muttered. “Me using you while that pervert watches. Maybe he’d take pictures. Maybe he’d jerk off right there, watching me ruin you.”

Your toes curled. Toji’s hand gripped the back of your neck and pushed down just a bit more, sliding deeper into your throat. You whimpered—but didn’t stop.

“Fuck, you’re unreal,” he rasped. “Such a perfect fuckin’ mouth. I could finish right now…in your mouth.”

But he didn’t. He pulled out with a wet pop, your lips flushed and your chin glistening. You gasped for air, eyes watering, chest rising and falling. He stroked it fast, groaning, head lolling back, spilling all over your neck and face. Toji smirked down at you, panting. “That’s enough for now.”

You looked up, dazed and dizzy. He took a tissue from the nearby table and cleaned your face before tossing it to the nearby trash can.

“Don’t want the others getting jealous,” he added with a wink.

Just then, the door clicked open. Geto’s voice floated in from the hallway. “I’m back. Got the food.”

Toji stood, tucking himself away like nothing had happened, smoothing down his sweats. He grabbed the remote and flipped the channel.

“Hey, welcome back,” he called out casually, glancing toward you with a wicked glint in his eye. “She’s been keeping me company.”

Geto stepped in with a raised brow, eyes flicking briefly between the two of you. “She looks flushed.”

Toji just grinned. You tried to sit up, but your legs were shaky, your throat sore, your lips swollen.

Geto tilted his head. “Rough nap?”

Toji answered for you. “Hmm, something like that.”

**********

You barely had time to collect yourself.

Your lips still slick from Toji’s cock, when Geto set the bags down on the dining table. You tried to sit up straighter on the couch, tried to act like nothing had happened, like you weren't suckling on toji's cock just minutes ago, but your hair was messy, your face flushed, and your lips a little too swollen to pass off as a nap.

And of course, Geto noticed.

He turned, arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning you slowly from head to toe.

“Toji,” he said flatly. “What did you do to her?”

Toji, already sprawled on the other side of the couch like a king satisfied after a feast, just smirked and stretched his arms behind his head. “What? Nothing much.”

You swallowed thickly, cheeks burning. Geto’s gaze slid back to you, a slow, knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“She’s a mess,” he murmured. “Couldn’t even clean her up properly?”

Toji grunted. “I did my best.”

You shifted under the blanket, suddenly so aware of every inch of your body. Geto walked toward you, his movements unhurried, predatory. He crouched beside the couch, resting his arms on the cushion beside your legs. His fingers reached up, brushing your chin gently. His voice dropped to a murmur.

“You let him use your mouth?”

You couldn’t speak. Could barely meet his eyes. And then in a low voice, "Yeah...."

Geto’s smile widened, so soft and dangerous.

“Such a sweet little thing,” he whispered. “Always saying yes, even when you don’t understand what you’re agreeing to.”

Toji chuckled low. “She’s soaked too. Bet you anything.”

Geto’s eyes glittered as he slid his hand beneath the blanket, fingers trailing dangerously up your bare thigh. You moaned softly when he found the soaked fabric of your panties, his touch featherlight but deliberate.

“Fuck, you weren’t lying,” he murmured, voice reverent.

His thumb brushed over the wet spot, pressing just enough to make your hips twitch. You tried to suppress the sound rising in your throat, but Geto leaned in, his lips close to your ear.

“Don’t hold back,” he whispered. “I want to hear you.”

You let out a soft, broken moan again. He grinned and dragged your panties aside, one thick finger sliding through your folds—slow, filthy, deliberate.

“God, you’re leaking,” he growled. “And all this from sucking Toji off like a little toy.”

You bit your lip, your hands gripping the couch cushions. Geto slipped a finger inside you, shallow and teasing. You clenched around it, already too worked up from earlier. He watched your face intently, reading every flinch, every shiver.

“You like being passed around, huh?” he whispered, fucking his finger in slow, torturous circles. “Getting used by all of us. You like that ?”

Your head dropped back against the couch. You couldn’t answer. Couldn’t do anything except pant and writhe under his touch.

Toji’s voice was low and amused. “She’s not even denying it.”

Geto pulled his finger out and brought it to your lips, tapping them lightly. “Open.”

You obeyed, eyes wide, mouth parting with no resistance. He slipped the wet finger inside, letting you taste yourself while his other hand slid back between your thighs.

“Oh? You like the taste?” he murmured, watching you suck obediently on his finger. “Filthy little thing. No wonder Satoru wants to keep you all to himself.”

You whimpered when he pressed his thumb against your clit and circled—slow and firm. Your hips bucked instinctively, your entire body trembling now.

“Think she’ll come just from this?” Geto asked, clearly amused.

Toji leaned forward. “I bet she already did earlier.”

You shook your head weakly, but Geto didn’t stop. He added another finger, pushing in deeper this time, his movements rhythmic and controlled. Every thrust sent sparks up your spine.

“Keep those legs open,” he ordered. “Don’t make me tie them apart.”

You whimpered, spreading wider, your breath coming in soft, desperate gasps.

Toji watched lazily, eyes half-lidded. “God, look at her. Just lying there, letting it happen.”

Geto curled his fingers. You cried out, back arching off the couch. He leaned down, his mouth grazing your jaw.

“You’d let all of us use you at once, wouldn’t you?” Toji whispered. “Let us take turns. Or not even take turns—just all at once. Yeah? ”

You nodded. You didn’t even think. Just nodded, breathless, ruined.

“Fuck,” Geto groaned, thrusting harder now, faster, his palm grinding against your clit. “Gonna cum, yeah?"

You tried to hold it back, but the pressure snapped. Your body trembled violently, pleasure crashing through you in wave after wave as you moaned into his shoulder, fingers clawing at the cushion. He fucked you through it, drawing every last tremor out of you, until you were limp and twitching beneath him. Then he finally pulled out, dragging his soaked fingers across your thigh and wiping them off on the inside of your top just to be filthy.

Toji whistled low. “Damn. Should’ve recorded that.”

Geto just leaned in and kissed your temple. “Next time,” he murmured. “We’ll make it even messier.”

You were panting, barely got any time to recover. Your chest was still heaving, legs sticky and trembling from Geto’s fingers, when the sleepy rustle of sheets behind you made everyone pause.

Gojo stirred where he’d been napping on the other couch, his snowy hair messy, eyes bleary but narrowing fast the moment they landed on you—sprawled and disheveled under the blanket, flushed, lips parted. Geto still had his hand lazily draped over your thigh.

“What the hell,” Gojo muttered, sitting up straight. “Did you guys seriously—? While I was right here?”

Toji smirked, unbothered. “Shouldn’t sleep through prime time.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Gojo muttered, glaring. He tossed the blanket off, stood, then marched over and scooped you up with zero warning, bridal style. You squeaked, hands grabbing onto his shirt.

“She’s mine,” he pouted. “All mine. You guys don’t get to just—just fingerbang her when I’m napping.”

“Didn’t hear her complain,” Toji called lazily.

“Still didn’t give you permission,” Gojo shot back over his shoulder, sulking. “Come on, bunny. Let’s go play video games.”

Geto snorted. “There he goes.”

Toji stood up. “Oiii, don’t do that to her,” he growled. “Shit’s off limits.”

Gojo rolled his eyes without slowing. “Ughhh fine, old man.”

He carried you straight to his bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him. You were still trying to catch your breath when he dropped you onto his bed, hands on his hips, looking down at you with mock seriousness.

“We’re playing a game,” he said.

Your heart fluttered. “...What game?”

“Truth or truth,” he said smugly. “No dares. Just truth.”

You nodded, breathless already. "..Okay.."

Gojo crawled onto the bed beside you, long legs sprawled out, propping his cheek on one hand as he gazed down. His other hand idly twirled a piece of your hair.

“First question,” he murmured. “What did Toji do to you earlier?”

You blushed hard, eyes wide. "Satoru..... that's....."

"Tell me princess, what did he do? Did he touch you down there, yeah?"

You shaked your head in denial. "Nooooo..."

"Then what did he do? Tell me bunny, pretty please?"

You kept your head down out of embarrassment.

"What happened to your lips? It's all swollen—wait, don't tell me—Did Toji made you suck his cock?".

You kept your head low. But you nodded.

He hummed, pleased. “Was he rough?”

“Yes.”

He grinned wider. “Did you like it?”

You swallowed hard.

"That's what I thought." He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “Second question. Did Suguru finger you right after?”

"Yeah."

“Did you come?”

You nodded again.

Gojo’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you wish I’d been the one doing it?”

You met his eyes, breath catching in your throat. “I—I don't know thatt. . . ,” you whispered.

He made a soft sound, somewhere between a groan and a whine.

“God, bunny,” he said, voice rougher now. “You’re gonna make me insane.”

His hand slid down to your bare thigh, fingers stroking slowly. You looked away. He chuckled, then cupped your jaw, making you look at him.

“You’re filthier than I thought,” he murmured, gaze heated. You whimpered, thighs pressing together.

“Next question,” he said, voice sing-song now. “If I told you to get on your knees and suck me off right now, would you?”

You nodded without thinking, mouth dry.

“If I told you to let me fuck your tits until I came all over your face—?”

“Y—yes, I guess,” you whispered.

He grinned like a man starved. “If I told you I’ve been dreaming about bending you over this bed since the first day you moved in…?”

His hand slid higher, fingers slipping beneath your shorts, grazing the edge of your panties.

“Fuck, bunny,” he breathed. “You’re so wet.”

You gasped when his fingers found the soaked patch, rubbing slowly through the thin cotton.

“This turn you on?” he whispered. “Being questioned? Getting called out for being a filthy little thing?”

You squirmed, your breath shaky. He pressed down harder, teasing.

“Bet you’d let me eat you out while you answered more,” he teased, voice low. “One question for every flick of my tongue. Make you admit everything.”

You whined, arching your hips against his fingers.

“Shh,” he cooed, rubbing circles into your clit. “Don’t get greedy now.” He pulled his hand away, licking the fingers with a satisfied groan. “Taste better than candy,” he muttered.

You stared up at him, dazed and breathless, your body still tingling from the buildup. Gojo leaned down slowly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then another at the corner of your mouth.

“You’re not leaving this room tonight,” he said, voice thick with hunger. “Not until you make me happy, Yeah?”

Gojo’s eyes darken with hunger as he watches you. His hand curls into your hair lightly, fingers gripping just enough to guide without pain. You tremble but don’t pull away—because you know what he wants. You know exactly how much he’s craving this.

“Can you get down for me baby?,” he murmurs, voice soft but coaxing.

You obey instantly, dropping to your knees in front of him, heart hammering so loud it drowns out everything else. His pants are already loose, the bulge pressing insistently against the fabric, begging for your touch.

“Look at me,” he orders, his grin wicked, “and don’t you stop until I tell you, yeah baby?”

He lets out a long sigh. "Now. . .can you do the thing to me now, hmm? the thing you did with Toji, yeah?"

"Okay....."

You lock eyes with him and reach for the waistband, fingers fumbling as you slide his pants down, exposing the thick hardness straining free. His breath hitches when your lips brush his tip, teasing, warm, hungry.

“Fuck,” Gojo groans. “Yeah, just like that.”

You start slow, lips tracing teasing circles over the sensitive head, tasting the salt of his skin, feeling the pulse of his veins beneath your tongue.

“Please,” he whispers suddenly, voice a desperate plea. “Please, bunny, suck me harder. I need it. I need you so bad.”

Your heart melts at the raw want in his voice. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, moving your tongue in slow, tantalizing swirls that make him shiver and moan. "Like this?"

“Fuck, yeah like that. You’re so good at this,” he pants, hands tightening in your hair. “God, don’t stop. I want to hear you take every inch. Swallow it all down.”

Your hands grip the base, steadying him as you bob your head clumsily, lips sliding along his length, flicking over the sensitive underside, the taste of him rich and intoxicating. You feel him twitch, the heat radiating from his body.

“Ahhhhhhh, yes,” Gojo gasps, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls your head closer. “I’m gonna fucking lose it if you keep going like this.”

You look up briefly to see his face twisted in pleasure, mouth parted, breath ragged. His hips jerk forward, pressing harder against your mouth. “More baby."

You obey, moving your head more.

“Please,” he begs suddenly, voice almost broken. “I need your hands on me. Don’t stop your mouth, but touch me. Rub me, squeeze me.”

He guides your fingers up his thighs, then back down to his base. His breath hitches, hips bucking against your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna come so hard for you.”

You swallow hard around him, feeling his pulse throb against your tongue, matching the pounding of your own heart. He groans, hips snapping forward, fingers tightening in your hair.

“God, yes,” he gasps. “You’re driving me crazy. Keep going, don’t stop.”

You push yourself harder, pleasing him. His hips jerk violently, breath stuttering, until with a guttural shout, he shudders, spilling hot and heavy into your mouth.

He gently covers your mouth.

"Don't waste it, yeah?"

You don’t hesitate, swallowing every drop, tasting him as he pants, hands trembling where they grip your hair.

When he finally pulls back, he looks at you with wide, dark eyes, still panting. Gojo’s grin softens into something almost tender as he pulls you up for a slow, possessive kiss.

“Such a good bunny,” he whispers against your lips, looking at your face all flushed and swollen lips. His cock came back to life in an instant.

"Shitt..... baby... can you open your pretty mouth again, please?" He asks already stroking his semi-hard length.

"But.....you just...." You tried to protest weakly.

Gojo doesn't wait, grabbing the back of your neck and gently sliding in again, your eyes watering from the overwhelming sensation.

You’re lost in the feel of Gojo’s thick length sliding in and out of your mouth, the way his hips thrust slowly, deliberately, every motion sending waves of heat through you. Your hands clutch at his thighs, holding him close, drinking him down as he groans and drags his fingers tighter through your hair.

Suddenly, the door creaks open.

“Woah, thought you were playing video games,” Geto’s smooth voice cuts through the room like a teasing echo. You pull back just enough to blink up at him, cheeks flaming bright red, your lips still glistening wet. Gojo rolls his eyes without missing a beat, hips pushing deeper into your mouth with a sharper thrust.

“Get the hell out Suguru, don't ruin the fun.” he snaps, whining. “And please don’t come back for god's sake, I'm not in a mood to share today.”

Geto just chuckles, grinning widely as he takes a step back. “Alright, alright, I’m gone,” he says, holding up a key he must’ve grabbed nearby. With a casual smirk, he turns and slips out the door, the click of it closing behind him ringing in your ears.

Gojo’s thrusts don’t slow for a second—he’s relentless, urgent, and every movement pulls you further into the haze of pleasure and control. Your tongue swirls around him, your throat contracting just the way he likes.

Outside, in the living room, Toji’s voice breaks through the quiet.

“What the fuck is Gojo doing with her in there?” he grumbles, sliding down onto the couch with an annoyed sigh. Geto leans against the wall, his smirk widening.

“Oh, exactly what you did earlier,” he replies, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Caught him red-handed.”

Toji curses low under his breath, clearly pissed.

Geto shakes his head, muttering, “You got no shame. You did the same shit to her earlier. Why are you so pissed now?"

You hear Geto’s chuckle fade as Toji settles back, clearly resigned but also amused by the whole chaotic scene unfolding.

Back inside, Gojo’s hips keep rolling, his breath ragged as he pushes you closer to that edge again, completely oblivious to the teasing outside the door—because right now, all that matters for him is you and the high he's chasing.

Gojo’s relentless just like you knew he would be—greedy, insatiable, never willing to stop. Every few seconds he’s begging, sweet-talking you like you’re his only addiction. His voice is low and husky, the filthy things he says making your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment and something much darker.

“God, you’re so fucking good at this,” he groans, clutching your hair like he can’t get enough. “Please, don’t stop, baby. Keep going, I swear I’ll make it worth your while.”

Your tongue flicks over him again, slow and teasing, your fingers gripping the waistband of his pants as he bucks into your mouth, hips rolling in the most sinful rhythm. You don’t know how much longer you last, caught between pleasure and a dizzying mix of shame and excitement.

Finally, with a deep growl and a ragged shout of your name, Gojo pulls back, gasping for air. His cheeks are flushed, his shirt rumpled, and his pants hang loose as he adjusts the buttons with shaky fingers. He stumbles out of the room and flops down on the couch right next to Toji, who’s been brooding there like a storm waiting to burst.

Toji’s eyes narrow. “You’re still grinning like a damn idiot,” he snaps.

Gojo smirks lazily. “What? I’m just enjoying myself. You’re the one who’s all pissy.”

Toji crosses his arms, scowling. “Yeah, well, don’t act like you got some monopoly on her.."

Gojo countered back. "You were busy getting your ‘fun’ while I was asleep earlier. You think I’m just supposed to sit back and watch?”

He continued, his sound dripping with mockery. "Greedy old man. You did the same thing. So don’t act like you’re innocent, Toji. You’re just jealous ‘cause I’m better at it.”

Toji snorts, shooting him a dirty look. “Keep dreaming, pretty boy. You’re lucky I don’t drag you off by that ridiculous white hair and teach you a lesson.”

Gojo’s grin widens. “Bring it on, old man. Let's see who wins.”

They bicker back and forth like kids in a playground, teasing and taunting, their voices low but dripping with all kinds of filthy meaning only you understand.

Meanwhile, you quietly slip away from the tension and head toward the kitchen, still a little flushed from what just happened, your body humming with heat.

You’re careful not to make a sound as you pass the couch, but both Toji and Gojo stop mid-argument and turn their eyes to you.

Their gazes trail after you, hungry and amused. Gojo’s smirk deepens, a silent promise in his eyes, while Toji’s jaw tightens as if he’s fighting some urge. You keep your head down, cheeks burning hotter, and walk past them without a word.

But you can feel their eyes on your ass, slow and deliberate, making your skin crawl and tingle all over. You get to the kitchen, lean against the counter, and try to steady your breath as their filthy words echo faintly behind you.

Gojo’s voice drifts over, low and wicked: “Damn, you’re gonna drive me insane if you keep looking like that.”

Toji grunts. “She’s already got us both fucked up. No need to make it worse.”

You close your eyes, shaking your head softly, but the flush on your cheeks betrays your innocence—or lack of it. Because deep down, you know this twisted game is far from over.

to be continued in the next chapter

Comment down to get tagged in upcoming chapters

[jinjoohaaa]

Pretty lace, little thief

guess your brother’s best friend likes lace more than you do.

pairing : brother's bsf sukuna x reader

content warning : dubcon vibes, masturbation, clothed grinding, clothing kink, spanking, rough handling, messy cum play, degradation, name-calling, 18+, mdni.

It’s embarrassing how much you look forward to your brother’s best friend showing up. you hate yourself for it sometimes, for the way your stomach flips the second you hear that deep voice in the hallway, for the way your thighs press together when he laughs, for how you pick outfits just to see if he notices.

because Sukuna wasn’t just some other guy. he was a six-foot wall of muscle, covered in tattoos, a mouth like sin, and eyes that lingered too long when he thought no one was watching. and you loved giving him reasons to look.

Sukuna’s always around, lounging in your living room like he owns the place, tattoos on display, muscle straining against whatever shirt he bothers to wear. he’s a fucking menace, but god, he’s hot. too hot. and the best part? he tries so fucking hard not to look at you. and that’s where the real fun starts.

you’ve made a hobby out of teasing him. when he stays over, which he does a lot, you always take it up a notch. walking around in your shortest skirts, barely-there pajama shorts, tight tops with no bra, brushing past him in the hall so he feels the curve of your hip. he acts like a wall, cold, unreadable, but you see it, the way his throat works when he swallows, the way his eyes darken for a split second before he looks away and you love catching the subtle flex of his jaw. the twitch of his hand like he’s about to grab something but he can't.

today was no different. your brother had the TV blaring again, legs kicked up, Sukuna sitting on the other couch as usual. he was always here, too comfortable, too much part of the house.

you padded out of your room in a skirt barely covering your ass. no shorts, just thin fabric of your lace panties underneath. you bent down in front of him, pretending to grab something from the floor, ass arched, panties flashing. you didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened, his big hand flexing against his knee. he looked away quick, throwing out some half-assed comment at your brother, but the damage was done. his eyes had been on you.

“quit hovering,” your brother muttered. “you’re blocking the screen.”

you straightened, acting all innocent, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning. you didn’t say a word, just turned and walked away slowly, knowing the hem of your skirt lifted with every step. you could feel Sukuna’s stare burning holes in the back of your thighs.

***

later, your brother got a call from your mom, asking him to pick up groceries from the store. he sighed, tugged on his jacket, and told Sukuna he’d be back in an hour.

“yeah, sure,” Sukuna mumbled, barely looking up.

you appeared from your room a beat later. “I’m coming too—just drop me at Riya’s.”

your brother shot you a look. “go on your own, brat. you take forever to get ready.” with that, he slammed the door on his way out.

you let out an annoyed sigh, lingering in the silence. a few minutes later, you grabbed your things anyway, stomping out and shutting the door loud enough that even Sukuna got startled.

after you both went out, silence. and Sukuna didn’t last five fucking minutes. your bedroom door creaked open, heavy steps padding across the floor. his eyes landed on the laundry basket, and without hesitation he shoved his hand in, rummaging through like he’d done it a hundred times already. fingers curled around lace, and he pulled out a pair of panties. he picked them up, holding the scrap of lace between his fingers like it might bite him.

Sukuna lifted the panties to his face. Inhaled deep. his eyes shut, nostrils flaring like a goddamn animal starved.

“fuck…” he hissed under his breath, voice hoarse. and then his hand went straight to his sweats. tugged down just enough to free his cock, already thick and hard, veins running up the shaft. he wrapped your panties around it, groaning at the drag of the lace, the corner of his mouth twitching like he already knew what he was about to do with them.

what he didn’t know was that you’d doubled back after leaving, muttering under your breath about forgetting your phone. and when you crack your door open, the sight makes your breath catch.

Sukuna’s in your room. sitting on the edge of your bed. your red lace panties balled in his fist. your panties. your fucking panties.

“shit,” he muttered, talking like you were already under him. his fist worked slow, pulling the fabric up and down his length, head flushed angry red. precum smeared into the lace, soaking it. he pressed the panties to his nose again, jerking faster now, grunting like he couldn’t stop. every stroke slick with precum, the sound wet and obscene. his hips rocked up into his own fist, chasing something he’d clearly been holding back every time you paraded yourself in front of him. his breathing grew ragged, chest heaving, cock twitching against the lace. he was right on the edge, fisting himself with your panties like he owned them, like he owned you.

and that’s when you decided to make yourself known, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.

“well, well,” you drawl, voice low and mocking. “didn’t think you were that desperate, Sukuna.... pervert.”

his eyes snap open, red and wild, and for the first time you see him actually caught off guard. he doesn’t stop his hand, though he just slows down, cock still wrapped in your panties, thick veins throbbing under the lace.

“shut the fuck up,” he growls. “you didn’t see shit.””

“oh, I did.” you grin, shameless, biting your lip as your gaze flicks to the way his hands stroking his leaking cock. “wow, really?… jerking off with my panties? that’s low, even for you.”

his jaw works, a muscle twitching. “watch your mouth, brat. the fuck you doin’ here?” his voice is rough, but he smirks anyway, tongue dragging across his teeth.

you tilt your head, bite your lip. “shouldn’t I be asking you that? the fuck you doing in my room?”

that vein in his jaw ticks. he exhales through his nose, stroking himself lazily like he’s daring you to keep going. "shut it."

“aww… couldn’t get any pussy, so you settled for the closest thing instead? that it?” your voice dripped with mock sympathy. you knew you were pushing it, poking at something you probably shouldn’t, but the way his grip tightened, the way it hit, made it hard to stop.

“you really got a death wish, huh?"

“oh what're you gonna do?” you scoffs, arms crossed, eyes glittering. “you’ll spank me then? or maybe sniff them harder? should I leave a pair out for you next time?”

“think you’re funny, huh?” his smirk sharp. “walking around in those tiny skirts, flashing me your little cunt like I wouldn’t notice, then acting all surprised when I use what you left lying around?”

you swallow, your throat dry, but you don’t back down. “If you didn’t want to notice, you wouldn’t be in here with my panties wrapped around your dick.”

"you fuckin' brat—"

you cut him off with a mocking laugh, pushing off the doorframe and taking slow steps closer. your eyes drop to his cock, angry red, leaking against your panties, the fabric now soaked dark with his precum. “looks like you’re the pervert here, Sukuna. sniffing, stroking, moaning… fuck, are you seriously about to cum in those?”

he growls, low and dangerous, hand freezing mid-stroke. “told you to fuckin' watch your mouth.”

but you only grin wider, leaning in closer, eyes flashing with mischief. “what’s the matter, huh? gonna cum in my panties and then pretend nothing happened? how long have you been doing this, huh? you’re fucking gross.”

that does it. Sukuna drops the panties, fists his cock bare, and in the same motion he’s across the room. he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you close, slamming the door shut behind you.

“you think this is a joke?” he snarls, crowding you against the wall, his cock pressing heavy against your hip. his breath is hot, ragged. “walkin' around like that, teasing me, mouthing off? wanna call me a pervert?”

your lips part, the thrill of danger sparking down your spine. “kinda sounds like you are one, though…”

he grins, wolfish, eyes dark with hunger. “then I’ll show you just how much of one I can be.”

he spins you around, dragging you and bending you forward onto the bed until your cheek is pressed flat against the mattress. his hand yanks up your skirt in one brutal motion, exposing your lace panties, that looks exactly like the same pair he’d just been fucking himself with.

“look at this,” he hisses, dragging his fingers over the damp crotch. “already leakin'. all that smart mouth, but your cunt’s soaking. knew you loved this shit.”

you whimper as his palm cups you, the heat of his hand burning through the thin fabric. he ruts his cock against your ass, grinding until the lace is caught between you both, until the wet spot spreads wider from both your arousal and his leaking head. the sound is filthy—sticky, squelching fabric dragging between you.

“feel that?” Sukuna growls, pressing harder. “that’s my cock soaking your cute little panties. gonna stain ‘em even worse.”

you bite down on a moan, your fists clenching against the sheets. he’s so blunt, so crude, every word making your pussy clench tighter.

“bet you love it,” he mutters, hips jerking rough. “getting used like a fucking rag. cause that’s all you are.”

your voice comes out shaky, needy. “Sukuna…”

he chuckles darkly, lips brushing your ear. “what? embarrassed now? should be. gonna cum on you and it’s your own fault for acting like a slut.”

his cock throbs against you, grinding harder, dragging the soaked lace against your pussy until you’re trembling. and you know he’s close. your thighs are shaking from how hard he’s rubbing into you, the lace pulled tight between your folds, dragging every nerve raw. his cock feels like a steel bar, thick and heavy as it drags against your slit over and over again. he fists the waistband, yanking it tighter against your cunt until the fabric cuts into you, making you gasp.

“look at that. soaking my cock. wanted this the whole time, didn’t you? parading around in front of me like a cheap whore.”

“d-didn’t—” you breathe, but it sounds weak, needy.

“bullshit.” his teeth sink into your shoulder through your top, biting hard enough to sting. “wanted me to lose it. wanted me to ruin you. filthy little cocktease.”

your moan betrays you, spilling out when he shifts, grinding his blunt head right over your clit, dragging your panties with him. the squelch is obscene, the air filled with it, both of you rutting like animals against nothing but thin lace.

Sukuna’s voice is a snarl in your ear. “feel that? that’s me about to cum on your panties. gonna soak ‘em so bad you won’t be able to hide what I did.”

his hips jerk, rougher now, losing rhythm. cock drags sticky over the fabric, pre smearing everywhere, mixing with your arousal until the panties cling transparent.

“fuck,” he groans, low and guttural, slamming you harder against the bed as his pace breaks. “tight little pussy doesn’t even know what it’s in for.”

your own whimper rises, needy, your cunt clenching around nothing as he uses you like a sleeve. the heat, the friction, everything’s too much.

“fuck, brat—” he growls, hips snapping erratically now. his cock drags one last time, head catching over your clit through the fabric, then he’s spilling with a broken groan, thick ropes of cum soaking through your panties, coating your slit and thighs with messy heat. you cry out at the feeling, the hot splatter against your cunt making your knees buckle. his hand digs into your hip, keeping you pinned as he grinds it in, smearing himself over every inch of lace until it’s ruined, dripping. he stays there, chest heaving against your back, cock pulsing against you, breath hot against your ear.

finally, he laughs, low a d threatening. “keep poking me, brat, and next time I won’t stop at this.”

you bite your lip, shivering, cunt throbbing around emptiness. Sukuna pulls back, gives your ruined panties one last slap against your pussy, the sticky squelch making you whimper.

“clean up before your brother comes back. and don’t you fuckin' dare run your mouth.”

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