lee

pfp: naaacn & nada_ge (twt) non binary 🇹🇭🇱🇦Requests are open, I see them but it takes time 20s

[getosugurugirlfriend]

masterlist

Hello guys, I finally decided to upload fanfics !! I just wanted to add that english is not my first language and I am a really anxious person, so I am happy for receiving feedback.

I go by they/she/he and my name is Lee. I fall under the neurodivergent umbrella, so please be patient with me. I will probably write for a lot of fandoms but mostly jujutsu kaisen, bungō stray dogs, resident evil, chainsaw man and tokyo revengers, but I do have a lot of interests so I am happy to receive request from any fandom <3 Also be free to message me, I am happy to get messages and maybe get to be friends (just be over 16) !!

I write for vtubers, but I don‘t support the big company (you know exactly which one I am talking about).

⋆｡°✩ taurus, pisces, sagittarius ✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ INTJ 5w6/6w5 sx6 ✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ thai/lao/ger/engl ✩°｡⋆

blog owned by a disabled person <3

actually I am a Nana cosplayer…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

no furries and stepcest, incest, minor x adult

requests are appreciated and open kinda rules

RULES

⁀✮₊⋆.˚⟡ nsfw ⟡˚.⋆₊✮⁀

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ hcs ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ fluff ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ comfort ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ angst to fluff/comfort ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• thoughts/theories ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

My c.ai Account: @getosugurugirlfriend

C.ai Masterlist

Gojo Satoru - period comfort

Geto Suguru - first trimester pregnancy

Jujutsu kaisen ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

headcanons

Round two with choso MDNI

Bungō stray dogs ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

headcanons

fics

Resident evil ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

headcanons

fics

Chainsaw man ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

headcanons

fics

Tokyo revengers ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

headcanons

fics

NANA ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

headcanons

Shin x deaf & mute! reader ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Ren x deaf & mute! reader ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

fics

Your turn to die ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

headcanons

fics

Persona ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

headcanons

persona girls x reader (general relationship) hcs ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

fics

tae takemi x selfharming! reader ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Bleach ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

headcanons

fics

Tokyo ghoul ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

headcanons

fics

vtuber ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

no nsfw I don‘t sexualize real people and do not support it (even in the form of their vtuber model)

headcanons

fics

Thank you for listening :3

art: hurac_an (twt)

[kamiflix]

▶︎︎ First Time? (starring . virgin!fratkuna)

synopsis . When you get paired with your campus frat’s resident asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin! Nor did you expect to be the one to change that. content . afab!reader, virginity loss, oral sex (m!receiving), premature ejac, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, porn with a lil plot, teasing, taunting, filth, nipple play (m!receiving), pussy slapping, creampie, confessions, cum eating/making him taste himself, piercings, reader’s pretty blunt, somewhat of a size kink, Sukuna’s kinda soft here and there, slightly dom!reader, etc.

word count . 10.5k | author’s note: this is a combined repost from kamitv! i want all my works on one account so if this looks familiar, that’s why. banner art by Rororogi Mogera.

Who would’ve thought?

Of all people, Sukuna, a virgin? It just didn’t make sense.

He was this stand-offish asshole who most people respected out of pure fear. He'd claim not to "do parties" and yet you could always find him at one. He’d always have some chick on his arm or even in his lap so, in what world would anyone with a brain assume he’s actually never been inside a woman before?

And to make his lack of game all the more unbelievable, he’s even rumored to have a big dick—it’s like some well-known campus fact about the guy! Cosigned by his closet frat brothers, too.

So, again, what reason would anyone have to think the guy was a virgin?

Certainly not you, of course. And you don’t expect to be the only person to find out such information either.

The way you find out is probably even more bizarre than the fact itself. You and him had little to no reason to ever interact with each other. You weren’t some shy nerd who holed herself up in her room all day or anything, but you weren’t much of the party type other.

You were stuck somewhere in the middle of all that, vicariously living through some of your friends who had better things going for them.

As such, there was no real reason for you and Sukuna to cross paths. He never even had a reason to acknowledge your existence until the two of you are paired up together for a project in the one class you happen to take together.

——

The background noise is the chatter of your fellow classmates and their own project partners, you find your partner grumbling out a low, “What?” In response to your last statement, having hardly heard a thing you said.

“I said,” You huff, sitting beside the man in question as today marks week two of you being paired up with him for this semester’s project, “We should be meeting up outside of class too. We could get this knocked out in like a day if you just-“

“Oh that,” Sukuna cuts off casually. Seated all slouched back in his seat, his legs sprawled out in that signature manspread of his—he rolls his eyes at your little reminder, “You said somethin’ about that last week.”

You speak through slightly gritted teeth, fighting the headache he’s about to give you from this conversation alone, “All the more reason for you to take it into consideration. The faster we get this done, the less we have to deal with each other.”

As you say that, you glance at him only to find his eyes directly on yours already. He’s got such lazy posture, his head tilted slightly whilst he gazes at you so intently, and his big muscular arms folded across his chest. Even wearing a black hoodie and gray sweats, he still looks as attractive as ever—mean low-lidded crimson eyes locked on yours, tattooed face so beautifully defined, and rosy lips pulled into such an uninterested little frown.

Up until your words hit his ears properly, “The less we have to deal with each other, huh?” Sukuna repeats, narrowing his eyes even further at you, “You barely even know me and yet you want nothing to do with me already.”

“I know enough about you, Sukuna,” You say with a sigh, “And you hardly contribute to this project as is. Which only proves that everything they say about you is probably true.”

He arches a brow, his interest piquing, “And what exactly do people say about me?”

You let off a light scoff, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“But I don’t know,” Sukuna tells you honestly, maroon eyes boring into yours.

You stare for a moment as you try to decipher whether or not he’s being honest right now. How does he not know what people say about him? Everyone talks about his brooding personality very openly.

“They say you’re an ass,” You eventually say to the man.

To which his lips twitch into a slight smirk, “And you believe that?”

“Seeing as I’ve asked you to—at the very least—type your name on this document and you haven’t even done that yet,” You scoff, “Yes.”

The two of you mildly glare at one another for a moment before Sukuna leans up in his seat. Breaking eye contact for just a moment to look at his laptop, he swiftly moves to open up that shared document of yours and types his name out with a heavy sigh.

After which, he’s slouching back again and looking at you, “Don’t believe everything people tell you, woman.”

You roll your eyes at him, “What? Are you not fond of rumors? That still doesn’t negate the fact that you’re an assho-“

“When do you want to meet up?” Sukuna grumbles out almost reluctantly, watching the way you pause and swallow thickly as he catches you off-guard.

He’s almost even intrigued by how quickly you bounce back, despite being caught by surprise, “Friday. Are you free?”

“Unfortunately,” He grumps.

You give him a little shrug, “Good. I’ll see you then.”

And that was it. That was how each and every interaction with you and Sukuna went. Bickering back and forth about him not doing shit to help you with something that’ll affect your grade majorly, criticizing you about being too focused and needing to relax every now and then, and even calling you a stuck-up little brat one time—it was safe to say, you and Sukuna didn’t get along too well.

Not that you minded anyway. He wasn’t your first partner to care little about their grade so, you knew how to deal with these kinds of people by now. Typically, you indulge yourself in their craving to ‘relax’ just once and then they promise to start helping. You’ve gone down that path before and it’s worked for you just fine so you assume things will go the same way with Sukuna.

Plus, you guess you can give him a slight pass for his asshole attitude, at least he has a pretty face to look at. Black ink always decorating his awfully smooth skin, deep dark yet beautiful ruby-shaded eyes boring into whatever it is his focus on, and broad shoulders looming over your smaller figure every time he stands in front of you—you can't help but feel both attracted and intimidated by the man.

——

Which is exactly why when you open your apartment door for the scheduled meetup that Friday to crane your head up at him, you’re swallowing thickly to settle your nerves. You’ve never been alone with the man so of course you’re a bit nervous.

Especially with the way he gazes down at you like that’s exactly where you belong: beneath him. His eyes are filled to the brim with intensity and yet he’s only just set them on you. Wearing a noticeable black compression shirt and those signature gray sweats of his, he almost appears as though he’d just come from the gym.

And just as you take in his appearance, he very openly takes in yours—his eyes raking over your body and taking in every single inch of you. After all, just as it was your first time alone with him, it was his first time seeing you dress so comfortably. He doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares at your tits peeking out from the rather thin spaghetti-strap top you were wearing, his eyes soon trailing down slowly to those tauntingly short shorts you had on.

“So,” Sukuna swipes his tongue over his lips and cocks his head to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes yet to lift from your legs, “Are you gonna stare at me all day or are you gonna let me in?”

You blink out of whatever little daze you were in, having found yourself gazing at his chest far longer than you meant to. It was right in front of your face after all, how could you look anywhere else? And his shirt was so damn tight, the fabric hugging his well-toned body perfectly, so much so that you swore you could make out piercings on his-

Sukuna leans forward suddenly, his face nearing yours to gain your full attention, “If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna assume you invited me over for something else-“

“Sorry,” You chirp out as you clear your throat and awkwardly step back a bit to let him in, “You can come in.”

Nodding, Sukuna slips by you and you shut your apartment door behind him. Then, you’re quick to lead him over to your living room where you’d previously been working on your project.

The two of you are hasty to take a seat on your couch, both of you only a few inches apart from one another whilst you lean toward your coffee table and log into your already open laptop. Sukuna’s eyes are all over you as always, studying your side profile, your intent focus on the screen in front of you, and even the way you-

“Did you even bring anything?” You suddenly ask before you glance at the man.

Sukuna quickly meets your gaze, ripping his eyes off of wherever they’d been previously, “Was I supposed to?”

“Sukuna,” You sigh out, “Please tell me you’re joking right now.”

He swallows at the mere sound of his name rolling off your tongue in that scolding tone of yours—he's heard such a tone from you time and time again and yet, for whatever reason, it never seems to annoy him.

“I’m not.” He says plainly.

“How are we supposed to work on this if you-,” You cut yourself off and decide not to even attempt arguing with him. Arguing won’t change the fact that he showed up with nothing. “Just uhm,” You glance elsewhere for a second before an idea comes to mind and you place your laptop down and stand up, “Stay here.”

Sukuna doesn’t say anything. He merely watches as you huff and walk off, swiftly exiting the living room and disappearing down a nearby hall. He swears he finds himself looking at you a bit more than intended. Especially as you walked off, his eyes dropping to your ass and those damn shorts of yours.

Even when you’re out of his sight, he still finds himself staring in the direction of which you went, almost unable to look away for whatever strange reason.

That lasts for a few minutes until he snaps out of it and leans back against the couch, tossing his head back and letting out a long sigh. You soon return to find him with an arm stretched along the back of the couch, his legs spread as usual, and his eyes up on the ceiling.

He doesn’t even notice you’ve returned until he feels something placed in his lap. Looking down, Sukuna finds your laptop kindly set on top of him. To which his brows furrowed in confusion and he looked at you to see you sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table with a paper and pencil in front of you.

“What’s this?” Sukuna scoffs.

You don’t even spare him a glance as you begin writing something down, “How we’ll get things done.” He opens his mouth to say something but then you’re looking back at him with a glare, “I already organized the parts of this project that you have to do so, since it’s on my computer, you can work on that and I’ll work with what I remember.”

You wholeheartedly expected him to find something about this to disagree with you on but, to your surprise, he simply nods and redirects his focus to your laptop immediately.

And then, the two of you work exactly like that for the remainder of that little study session.

——

Sukuna’s not terrible to work with when it’s just you and him. If anything, he’s rather cooperative and a lot smarter than he leads on.

Which is why a solid two hours of productivity flies by surprisingly smoothly with him. If you asked him a question, he answered. Told him to do something, he’d say something snarky, and then do whatever it is you’ve instructed anyway.

It all went so perfectly up until he let out a really heavy sigh, “Alright, I’ve had enough for this.” Sukuna says casually.

He’s been repeating a similar phrase every thirty minutes or so but he usually gets right back to work after getting ignored by you. This time though, you get the feeling he’s serious when he pushes your laptop off of his lap and places it forward on the coffee table.

It’s then that you frown, “Oh c’mon, we were getting so much done,” You comment as you glance back to him.

He shrugs, “I can’t keep looking at that damn screen, it’s giving me a headache.”

“Of course it is,” You utter sarcastically, rolling your eyes whilst you place your pencil down and throw your arms up to stretch, “Fine then, we can take a break.”

Sukuna’s brows lift in surprise. He didn’t expect you to listen to him, “Good.” He hums, “I was getting bored as well.”

You scoff, “Were you?”

“Yeah, can we do something else?” He asks.

Turning around, you rotate the way you’re sitting so that you’re facing him and your back is resting against your coffee table. “Like what?” You muse, meeting his low-lidded gaze.

“Talk,” Sukuna says.

That’s it? He wanted a break to talk to you? Your eyes are narrowing at him before you even realize, “Talk?” You repeat with a scoff, “Seriously?”

He nods, “Mhm.”

“What do you wanna talk about, Sukuna?” As you ask him that, you watch the way his eyes casually slide down to your lips.

Does he mean to be this indiscreet with his looks? Or is he eyeing you down like that on purpose?

The man shrugs, “Anything outside of fuckin’ school.”

You laugh at that, “Okay, I can work with that.”

He tilts his head at you and licks his lips, “Yeah?” Something about your little laugh threw him off.

“Mhm,” You hum as you look down at your hand, fiddling with your nails a bit, “The rumors… are they true?”

Thrown off yet again, Sukuna’s brows pinch together. “Rumors?” He echoes in a genuinely confused tone, “What rumors, woman?”

The sound of your scoff makes him stiffen in his seat. Almost in an instant, the atmosphere had changed suddenly. “C’mon, don’t play dumb,” You tease, lifting your gaze to him again, “The rumors about you.”

He gives you a perplexed look and it’s almost as though you could see the gears in his head turning. “If you know something, say it.” He demands.

You sigh, “Sukuna, do you seriously hear nothing people say about you?”

Sukuna shrugs, “I don’t care enough to remember. So what is it? What rumor?”

You’re just curious. You swear that’s all it was. And, naturally, since he seemed to have warmed up to you—of course you wanted to know if that rumor about his dick was true. You’re both adults and it’s just a silly question. Plus, with the way he’s been looking at you all afternoon, you’re sure he won’t mind answering you with a simple yes or no.

Glancing to the side, your shoulders lift a bit, “It’s uh, rather intimate.” You hush out.

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, “Intimate?? An intimate rumor about me?”

His emphasis on himself makes your eyes flick back over to him. “Yeah, are you sure you don’t know what they say about you??” You ask again.

“Positive. Now speak, what is it they say?” Sukuna huffs impatiently, even more curious about this little rumor after the mention of it being intimate. After all, he’s never-

“People say you have a big dick,” You utter way too casually.

So nonchalantly that it makes him choke, a choke you don’t mess with the way he clears his throat and sits up a little. “What?” He rasps out.

You bat those stupidly false innocent eyes at him, “I didn’t stutter,” Your tone dips into something different and he catches every bit of it, “People say you have a big dick, is it true?”

Sukuna clears his throat and for the first time, he glances away from you. Then, he opens and closes his mouth, contemplating his next words carefully before they soon fall from his lips, “You wanna find out?”

His offer spurs a shift in your seat from you as you scoot closer to him ever so slightly, “You wanna show me?” You ask boldly, your tone direct, and not even a flicker of hesitation present.

“Do I want to-,” Sukuna pauses, his eyes scanning the entirety of your seated frame as you inch closer to him, “What?” He huffs, swallowing thickly.

You move to stand on your knees and lean forward to the couch, soon propping your chin up on your palm as you look at him, “Show me,” You chuckle, “I asked if you wanted to show me, Sukuna.”

He blinks, “Show you my cock?”

You shrug, “Yeah.”

The air is so thick right now, Sukuna’s not sure how exactly he can play this off without making a fool of himself. He gulps yet again, only to watch as your eyes start to drop down along his body.

“Stop,” He rushes out, “Keep your eyes up here. On mine,” He commands in a low tone, earning your gaze once more.

And then it’s quiet for a moment. He’s staring at you and you’re obediently keeping your eyes up on his. Sukuna hates it but he doesn’t know what to say or do from here. The last thing he wanted was for you to find out his little secret.

It’s like he was waiting for a fucking pin to drop, something to break the silence. Yet, his mind was going blank and words were failing him at the moment. He’s flirted with women before, plenty of times actually, effortlessly even—but for whatever reason, as you sit there with those stupidly pretty eyes staring at him, his mind simply flakes on him.

He’s like that for a minute longer until you move. So subtly too, sliding a hand to his thigh, leaning forward slightly, batting your lashes at him, “Sukuna?” You whisper.

His hips are rolling upward slightly at the sound of his name alone. “W-What?” He stammers, mentally cursing himself a thousand times over.

“If you don’t wanna show me you can jus’ say no,” You hum, smiling a bit, “Y’know that, right?”

He scoffs, “Of course I know that, woman.”

“If you know that then…” Your fingers lightly squeeze his thigh and you tilt your head, “Are you gonna tell me or show me whether or not those rumors are true?”

Something simply clicks inside Sukuna’s head. Rose-tinted lips cracking into a smirk, the man spreads his legs further and slouches back into the couch, “Find out for yourself since you’re so curious.”

Your eyes go wide, “What?”

Sukuna scoffs lightly, moving one of his arms from the back of the couch and placing his hand over his crotch. Of course, your gaze sinks down to his veiny hand, watching as he palms a stupidly large bulge in his sweats.

Your breath hitches a bit, “I-“

You don’t even get the chance to get it out before he’s cutting you off, “C’mere,” Sukuna hums in that low voice of his.

“What?” You whisper.

You and him make eye contact again and he nods his chin toward the space in between his legs. Nothing can really explain why you follow his gesture and quickly find yourself sitting in between his legs, taking a deep breath as you settle your hands on his thighs.

Sliding your touch up and up and up until your fingers graze his hand. The same hand that was resting on top of that aching bulge of his.

Sukuna slowly lifts his hand up and away, relaxing his arm on the back of the couch again as he stares down at you. Cocking his head to the side, “Well? Feel it.” He huffs.

You don’t even hesitate. Trailing your fingers upward carefully until you feel the outline of his cock beneath your fingertips, gulping as you drag your hand up to cup his length in your hand firmly, and smirking at the way his cock twitches furiously beneath your small touch.

Sukuna’s mouth falls open for a second but you’re too engrossed in feeling him to notice. He lets out a shuddered breath as he watches the way you grope his steadily growing erection. His head even tosses back and his fingers dig into the couch for a moment.

“It is big,” You whisper to yourself, your words only making him twitch more within your hand.

“Fuck,” Sukuna grits out lowly, hips unconsciously lifting to press himself further against you.

His curse earns your attention. You quickly glance up to him and see the way he’s got his head tossed back, Adam's apple bobbing with every heavy gulp he takes, and his chest rising and falling rather quickly.

You lift your hand carefully and decide to test something out. Slowly, you lean forward and just barely press your lips against his clothed cock.

Sukuna’s whole body reacts. He gasps louder than he means to and he’s weaving his fingers through your hair faster than he realizes, palming your scalp as he quickly looks down at you. “T-The fuck are you doing? Huh?” He huffs while gripping onto your hair.

You lift your head a bit but he keeps you in place, despite his question to you. “I just…” You’re not exactly sure you can explain yourself.

And by this point, Sukuna doesn’t think he cares enough to hear an excuse from you, “…You what? You wanna see it?”

All you can do is give him a little nod before he moves his free hand to the drawstring of his sweatpants. Then you're quick to help him tug them down until his boxers are revealed to you—a noticeable dampness in the fabric right where his leaking tip is. Was that because of you?

Before you can dawn on your own questions, Sukuna’s moving to tug his cock out. And fuck is he even bigger revealed before your eyes. With an upward curve, such an angry flushed tip, precum dripping from the slit of his fat cockhead, veins decorating his shaft and-

Shit, you were drooling. How’d you get like this again?? Ah, who cares.

“Sukuna,” You breathe out, ripping your eyes away from his cock just to look up at him.

He was almost panting, dark maroon eyes pouring down into yours, face flushed with different shades of red and pink, his lips parted softly—hell, he looked like he was in heat or something.

Gulping before he answers you, Sukuna clears his throat and his voice is already husky, “What?”

You shift against the floor, your hands relaxing against his large thighs, “Can I-“

“Yeah,” He cuts off. Lord knows if you got that question out he was going to lose his damn mind.

You raise a brow and lean forward, keeping your eyes on his while your lips near his tip, “Yeah?”

The last thing you get from him is a nod before you’re parting your lips. And from that moment forward, it all goes downhill. Everything from the way you’re sitting in between his legs to that initial connection of your plush lips against his drooling cock had Sukuna’s mind spinning.

He’s never been sucked off before. Hell, the farthest he’s gone as far as sexual activities are concerned is a little bit of dry humping. But this? Oh hell, this was his first time and he had zero idea how he was going to keep that information away from you.

Especially when he feels your tongue slip from between your lips and swirl around the head of his cock, kittenly lapping up that slim layer of precum sitting so prettily on his tip.

“Oh f-fuuck,” Sukuna groans huskily, the hand on your head gripping tighter.

You pull away from him slightly just to take in his expression and the way he tosses his head back. It was almost cute to you. The last thing you expected was for him to be so damn sensitive, you hardly did anything.

His sensitivity only worsens as you finally start wrapping your lips around his cock, feeling him throb when you sink your mouth down on him. Sukuna’s jaw goes slack and his brows twist up. He tries his best to hold it in but he can’t help but moan at the way you leisurely suck on half of his lengthy cock.

Your saliva wets up the rest of his shaft and you make up for what your mouth hasn’t reached yet with your hand, stroking him lightly whilst you take the rest of his girth in and out of your mouth. Rolling your tongue around him, pulling off just to messily spit and kiss on his blushing tip, and slobbering all over him—Sukuna almost fucking kicked something with how good your mouth felt around him.

He’s used his hand and other shit before but holy fuck, nothing, and he means nothing compares to that damn mouth of yours. The way you look with his cock stuffed right in between those lips he’s been staring at for God knows how long—your lips all slick with spit, eyes rolling back the deeper you take him, and tongue sticking out every time you pull your mouth off of him.

You soon slip your mouth off of him and start jerking him off, focusing your tongue on his tip and slithering the wet muscle in between the slit of his cock, lathering your tongue up with his glistening precum.

The sound of Sukuna groaning makes you look up at him, finding his eyes on yours again. He’s panting, trying his best to look like this wasn’t phasing him but failing in every way with how flushed his face was.

Your tongue sticks out and your hand continues to slide up and down his cock as you tap his tip on your tongue, making his brows twist up.

He bites back a throaty sound, “Hah… damn brat,” Sukuna huffs out as if to… degrade you?

You almost find it cute how clearly inexperienced he is, spitting a fat wad of spit onto his pretty wet tip and then smiling at him, “Sukuna,” You coo, your hand gripping his shaft tighter, “Is this your first time?”

He instantly looks off to the side, the veins in his neck and along his jawline tensing as he grits his teeth. Since he decides to ignore your little question, you take it a step further and slide your hand down his cock, gripping his thick base firmly before taking him into your heavenly warm mouth again.

His expression breaks completely, “Oh shit,” Sukuna moans, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you slide him deeper into your mouth than you did before.

Then his hand is pushing your head down further on instinct and he’s subtly rutting his hips up. You lift your head up despite his constant pushing, soon causing your head to bob up and down whilst you suck him off skillfully.

“Jus’ like that,” Sukuna suddenly groans and you moan around his cock in reaction. To which he keeps giving your mouth mindless little thrusts, “Don’t s-, agh, stop.”

Sucking him deeper and deeper before you move your hand completely, you suck in a deep breath of air through your nose, open up the very back of your throat, and sink all the way down, your lips meeting his pelvis as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Sukuna kicks something. Probably your coffee table with the way one of his legs extends out so suddenly, a choked-out groan ripped from his throat as your little move was all it took for him to cum. And it’s so much too, hot thick ropes of cum spurting down your throat, his hand holding onto your head for dear life whilst a moan of your name rolls off his tongue.

You’re still sucking too, pulling up only to swallow what he’s gifted you and then stick your tongue out. Laying it flat against his tip, you leisurely lick at him as if to beg for more and now the man’s pushing your head away for the first time.

When you lift your eyes up to him again, you notice he’s got his tattooed arm over his mouth and his lashes are batting softly at you. For such a big man, he was so ridiculously cute right now. Panting, sweating, cursing under his breath as if you couldn’t hear him.

“Yeah,” Sukuna utters suddenly, clearing his throat, “That was… my first… time. I uh-“

“Do you want more?” Is the last thing you asked him before you were sitting back on your heels and he was stumbling to his feet.

You had to guide him through it of course but, Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to stuff your face full of his cock again. You take him so kindly too, obediently sitting there with your hands gripping his thighs for support with every careful thrust of his hips.

He was trying to be gentle with you at first. Partially because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and also because he just loved the initial entry into your mouth. Over and over, Sukuna slid his dick in and out of your mouth like he was possessed, addicted to the feeling of you greedily sucking on him.

He was still sensitive from his first orgasm but his cock had yet to go down—twitching inside that sloppy mouth of yours, aching against your tongue, and dripping into the depths of your throat. Sukuna wasn’t much of a talker but he damn sure let out a plethora of grunts and groans.

They were so husk too, coming from deep within his chest, some getting caught in his throat when he felt your tongue flick against a specific vein on the underside of his cock. His fat tip knocked into the back of your throat with a single heavy thrust before his hands were latching onto the sides of your head.

Again, he’s not much of a talker but, something seems to come over him all at once because soon he’s got his gaze locked down on the messy sight of you and he’s huffing out words before he realizes. “Eyes up here, c’mon, hah… look at me,” Sukuna grunts.

Your eyes are completely glossed over as they flutter up to him. A moan vibrates against his skin as you make such intimate eye contact with the man, feeling his hips pick up.

Sukuna nods, “Good girl,” He praises in a low purr, and fuck does that do wonders for you because your legs are squeezing together more than they were before and you’re whining against him. “Fuck, y’like that?” He huffs, earning a sloppy lil’ nod from you.

He then feels you hum, “M-Mhm.” And he’s got chills slipping up his spine in pleasure.

Cracking a lazy, lopsided, and almost fucked-out little smirk, Sukuna scoffs, “Yeah? Fuck, behind all those g-glares ‘nd-, agh, scolding me… this is all you wanted, hm? A throat full of cock?”

His words had you whining again, fluttering your lashes at him as your fingertips dug into his thighs a little. Sukuna eases his hips back slowly, tipping his head to the side as he gently caresses the side of your face with his thumb.

“Messy girl,” He hums deeply, biting his lower lip at the way you’re just drooling for more and more as he pulls himself out of your mouth completely. “Jus’ look at this face,” Sukuna chuckles, “Y’look like a slut cryin’ like that—it’s cute.”

Blinking, you hadn’t even realized you had a tear or two sliding down your face. Your mouth remains open for a second before he moves to rub his tip against your plump lips, smearing your spit and his cum all over the damn place with a little grin on his face.

“‘Kuna…” You whisper, earning a quirk of his brow, “I can’t believe you’re a virg-“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” He grunts, moving a thumb to your chin to widen how open your mouth is for him, “Jus’… keep sittin’ there lookin’ pretty f’me,” Sukuna says.

You roll your eyes at him and all he can do is smile, pushing his hips forward again and easing his cock in between your lips. He slides in slowly until you can feel him pressing right against the back of your throat. To which he keeps himself there for a second, testing that gag reflex of yours and watching your eyes water.

Moving his hand back to the top of your head, he buries his fingers in your hair, “So fuckin’ sexy like this,” Sukuna compliments, feeling you moan in response, “M’gonna cum again, stay j-just like that,” He breathes out heavily, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull before he’s throwing his head back.

And as if to coax his orgasm out, you carefully move a hand to cup his balls, sucking on his cock as best as you can and earning an accidental sound from his throat. The second your palm is felt against him, the moment he feels your tongue slicking against him, Sukuna whines.

Then his thighs are tensing and he’s groaning loudly as if to cover up the sound that just left his lips, filling your throat with his seed and then tugging your mouth off of him with a quick pull of your head. You’re quick to swallow for yet a second time, letting out a needed cough after the fact while he stumbles back just a bit, his calves hitting the couch.

“Whore,” Sukuna growls.

You clear your throat and send a smile his way, “Not my fault you cum easy.”

Sukuna’s slow to sit back down on the couch to catch his breath, “Tell anyone about this and I’ll-“

“Oh,” You suddenly purr, cutting him off as you lift yourself up from the ground. He watches with slightly widened eyes as you move to straddle him, “Don’t tell me you thought we were done?”

He’s at a loss for words all over again, his confidence suddenly getting caught in his throat and flying out the window. Your hands slip to his broad shoulders and you lean forward a little.

Sukuna’s hands shakily find their way to your waist as he stares up at you, “You want more?”

You smirk, tilting your head at the dumbfounded male, “Don’t you?” You ask in a sultry little whisper, making his sensitive cock twitch once more. “At the very least…” Your lips slowly near his and he’s losing his breath, “Taste yourself, Sukuna.”

And then your lips are on his and he’s taking your tongue into his mouth. His grip on your waist tightens before he pulls you flush against him, feeling your crotch press right against his cock that’s steadily twitching back to life.

The two of you share a heated and messy kiss, your hips carefully swaying against him to encourage his returning arousal. You can’t really use curiosity as an excuse anymore, can you?

Well, you can. And you do with the way your hands slide down to his chest, your fingers slipping over his nipples to find exactly what you’d been curious about. You flick your fingers over his piercing there and Sukuna lets out a low hiss, prying his lips from yours and sending you a glare.

Not only did that little move of yours make his cock spring up completely but, you also notice the frown on his face.

Smiling at him, “Sukuna…”

“Don’t.” He huffs.

“You have nipple piercings?” You end up asking anyway in a happy little tone.

He grits his teeth slightly, “…Obviously.”

Chuckling, you press a soft peck against his lips and whisper, “Can I see them?”

“No.” He replies.

“No? Oh c’monnn, they’re just piercings!” You whine as your legs remain sprawled out over Sukuna’s muscular thighs.

Your panty-clad cunt was throbbing over his saliva-slicked semi-hard cock, and yet here Sukuna was still trying his very best to figure out a way out of this situation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go further with you—he was just nervous.

Not that he’d ever say that out loud though. Admit you’ve made him nervous? Oh please, in what universe?

Sure, you made him cum prematurely but that’s not his fault. No one told you to have such a slutty ass mouth.

Back to the present though, as you gaze down at him with those stupidly pretty eyes of yours, batting your lashes pleadingly whilst you await for the man to change his answer. It was simply unfair of him to have nipple piercings and not show you. It’s the least he could do after the head you just gave him, right?

“No, it’s not the ‘least I can do’,” Sukuna huffs. It’s then that you realize you’d spoken your thoughts aloud but—in a way—you’re actually glad you did so, “You’re not seeing shit, now get off of me.”

The pout that presents itself on your face is practically immediate, “C’mon ‘Kuna, I won’t touch them. I just wanna see,” You coo softly, tilting your head to the side as if to convince him, “Please?”

One simple word and his tip was wet with precum yet again. Sukuna swears he hates you. He hates the way you're looking at him right now, the way you're seated so perfectly on top of him, and the way he forgets how the hell he even got into this position with you in the first place.

Didn't he come over here to finish a project? Not have sex with you.

And yet, he can't find it in himself to say no to you again. That damn word you said, it did something to him. Sukuna's not sure what or why but his mouth is moving on its own, almost instinctively, "You wanna see them?" He sighs.

You're nodding, slipping your hands down to the hem of his shirt, "Yeah. Promise I won't touch."

"Tch. I..." Sukuna grits his teeth and you can see a pretty vein decorating his skin along his sharp jawline as he glances away for a moment, "I want you to beg me again."

Although you're a bit taken back by his request, you're quick to lean forward a bit and bite your lower lip, "Please?"

He ignores the word leaving you lips, his cock springing to life once more despite his attempt at leaving you unanswered. Given his body's reaction to you, all you can do is smirk before you're leaning down slightly and pressing your lips to his jaw.

"Pretty please, Sukuna?" You purr, warm breath hitting his now overly tense skin, "I promise I'll be good. Won't lay a finger on you unless you want me to."

His head slumps back against the couch and he inhales sharply at your soft touch sliding under his shirt, steadily working it up as the black fabric bundles up against your hands.

Then you're at his neck, sucking on his skin, rolling your tongue over him, shifting your hips forward against his cock and he simply groans. "F-Fucking, fine." Sukuna huffs, annoyed out of his ever-loving mind at whatever control it is you seem to have over him.

He hates you. He swears he hates you. Everything about the way your hands quickly tug his shirt up over his head, tossing the fabric elsewhere as you set your greedy eyes on his chest, the way your eyes widen at how flushed his skin is, and the sight of your tongue swiping over your lips as soon as you set your sight on his nipples.

Such pretty contrasting metal decorated his very pretty swollen nipples. So flushed with shades of pink and red, itching to be touched—just one flick and you knew he'd let out the most heavenly sound. The problem was convincing him to let you touch his nipples.

They were so damn tempting though, you swore you were drooling at the sight. God, you just wanted to reach out and-

"No," Sukuna rasps out. Your eyes snap up to his face and your pussy throbs at his expression.

He's beyond embarrassed. His eyes almost look glossed over with how desperate he was for you to stop looking at him. And yet he was so pouty and grumpy too, plump lips pulled into the cutest little frown at how hungry you were looking at him, his breathing unsteady all over again, and his cock felt twitching wildly beneath you.

You smirk, "'No'... what?"

"No, you cannot touch them," He's slow to clarify that, having seen right through those greedy eyes of yours, "You wanted to see and you've seen so-"

"I can make you feel good though," You purr, leaning in close to him all over again. "Jus' let me-"

"No," Sukuna mutters sternly. Then his hands are meeting your hips and his grip alone makes you flinch.

His touch is filled with intent as he slides his hands back to your ass and gives you a nice and firm squeeze, tugging you against him and making you gasp at the way his dick twitches right against your cunt. Your hands go to his shoulders to stop yourself from being pulled flush against him and he gazes dead up into your eyes.

How does one look so needy and yet commanding at the same time? It was like Sukuna told you thousands of words through his gaze alone. Maybe it was his very apparent physical need for you, or maybe it was just how attractive he is when aroused but fuck his look had your body hot all over.

Sukuna lets out a small breath of air before he drops his raspy tone even lower to a whisper, "Fuck me," He utters, feeling the reaction your cunt has to his words and cracking a cocky little smirk, "Fuck me, and you can touch me as much as you wish to."

You gulp thickly. Did you forget how to speak for a moment because all you do is open your mouth and it was like no words were even coming to your brain. His gaze was to intense and starved, large hands playing with the fat of your ass while he lifts his hips up slightly.

Then you gasp again, his thick tip was pressing right against your needy hole through the few layers of clothing that remained and you felt drunk off of your own arousal. Nodding and whispering in return, "O-Okay," Your hands slide around his neck and you lean in until your lips are meeting his again.

And if you were drunk off of your arousal then he was fucking high off of his own—feeling faded out of his mind with the way he leisurely moves to undress your lower half as he kisses you like he's done so a thousand times before, sliding his tongue into your mouth, swallowing up your moans, sucking on your lower lip, and undressing you all in one go.

Hell, for a second you forget the man is a damn virgin.

And as if to combat with that—you feel like a damn virgin once you start sinking your saccharine walls around Sukuna’s thickly curved cock. Gasping against his lips and feeling his fingertips curl into the skin of your waist, his jaw-dropping and lips quivering against yours as he lets out the most guttural groan he’s ever uttered, and both of your eyes fluttering at the connection of his body to yours.

Sukuna’s deeply shaded red eyes are hazy on yours as you sink down on him. His mind is turning to mush and he swears he’s about to pass the fuck out. It could’ve been the way your face looked as your cunt greedily sucked in his cock, or how tight your walls clamped down on him but, either way, Sukuna felt hot all over. Dizzy with lust and faded off of everything that’s you.

Every inch of you, the feel of your squeezing wet pussy enclosing around his aching cock, that breathy squeak of his name leaving your lips, and then your fingers grazing his chest-

Sukuna’s brows twist up and his entire body flinches instinctively. Hips bucking up slightly, large hands urging you further down, and shaky sound escaping his wet blushing lips—he’d officially lost it.

He looked so damn pretty doing so as well, not that you’d ever tell him that (you’ve embarrassed him enough for the time being). Those damn eyes of his were all glossed over, his bottom lip was shaking as a sexy-pitched gasp escaped his throat, and his hands held onto you for dear life whilst he bottomed out.

His fat cockhead kissing your cervix with little to no movement had you panting heavily while you kept your eyes low on his. “‘Kuna,” You feel his cock twitch desperately inside you and you toy with one of his sensitive nipples in between your index and thumb, “Y-You’re so-“

“Shut up,” He groans, and then he’s kissing you—desperately, hungrily-, starved. He knew another word from you would have your cunt stuffed full of his cum within seconds.

And as much as he wanted that, as much as he knew that’d be the end result of all this, he did not want to make yet another fool of himself. Though, the way your fingertips constantly flick over his pierced nipples makes him fucking whine into your mouth, a heavy grunt following after the sound as if to cover it up.

The hands your waist urge your body up, dragging your slicked walls up along his cock before allowing gravity to slam you back down. God the way you moan his name makes his knees feel weak. You were making him, as a whole, feel so utterly weak.

It wasn’t long before you were picking up a steady pace on top of him, your breaths shared with his and his eyes not once leaving yours. Sukuna was such a silent commander, that gaze of his told you everything, testing-, no, daring you to look away from him. He didn’t even know what it was about eye contact but he craved it so desperately.

Your gaze made his cock so stupidly hard, so much so that he just wanted to flip you over on this stupid couch of yours and-

And then he was. Sukuna doesn’t even register he’s repositioned with you until you let out the prettiest little whimper and your eyes roll back as he, almost experimentally, thrusts his heavy cock deep past your plush pussy lips.

What brings him back into the moment is that sound of you and the way you’re choking out his name, “S’kuna, f-fuck,” You almost hate that he’s taken control because you’ve lost your teasing of his chest, “Why’d you-, ngh-,” You’re cut off completely when he drags his hips back so torturously slow before rolling his hips down into you.

Shaking his head thoughtlessly, “Shut up,” Sukuna huffs again as he presses his bulky weight down against you, folding you into the meanest mating press and making you let out a filthy mewl at the sheer stretch of his girthy cock. “Please,” He sounds almost breathless, that plea of his hardly even audible, “Just be quiet f’me.”

Your jaw hangs open and you’re simply gaping up at the man with stupid, cockdrunk eyes. Something about feeling and watching him learn how to please you was probably more pleasurable than the sex itself. Which is saying an awfully lot because even though he didn't know what the hell he was doing, whatever he was doing, he was doing it right.

All you can do is wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, moaning his name softly every time his tip nudges into that mushy spot inside you. Sukuna lets out a low hum when he feels your nails claw at his back suddenly.

Then the cocky bastard has the nerve to fucking smile at you. Almost as if he enjoyed the pain of your nails scratching at his back hard enough to leave marks…

Because, of course, then he’s fucking you faster, harder, deeper. So determined to learn what you like, to learn your body inside and out (literally), and to have you mark up his back more than the dark ink that decorates his skin currently.

“Y’feel so fuckin’…” He can hardly even speak as he just grows addicted to pushing his cock in and out and in and out. That sloppy sound of your cunt squelching and wetting up his cock over and over again-, fuck he couldn’t get enough of it. “S-So fuckin’ good,” Sukuna’s voice almost softens as he shifts his lips to your ear, “Oh fuck, wanna…” His words trail off, a deep shade of blush coating his cheeks.

You can’t help but grow that never-ending urge to tease him, moving your lips to his ear, “Wanna what?” There was a slight shake in your voice but that didn’t save him from his cock throbbing at the sound of your voice alone.

“Hahh… wanna-, agh, wanna make you cum,” Sukuna admits begrudgingly. He sounded so ridiculously embarrassed saying that out loud but he was far too pussydrunk to care right now.

Thrusts growing heavier as if he were searching for a specific spot inside you, his eyes softening as he shifts to hover his face over yours once more, and his groans making your stomach churn with butterflies. Hell, you almost do exactly that of what he’s requested based on the sound of desperation in his tone alone.

Sukuna’s usually such a big, mean, sometimes stoic man, and yet here he was, silently requesting your assistance.

He is only a virgin after all.

“Not anymore,” He gruffs, catching you by surprise as you render the fact that those words left your lips. “C’mon, tell me what to do.”

Again, Sukuna swears on his life he hates you. He hates the way you’ve made him so weak, the way your cunt is so deliciously warm inside, the way you moan his name-

Fuck, he hates you.

“‘Kuna,” You whisper as you slide one of your hands from around his neck to slip to his hand and guide him, “My clit. You gotta-“

Your breath is caught in your throat all over again. You were trying to guide him just like he wanted you to but Sukuna was far too quick of a learner, swatting his thick thumb around in search before his ears twitch at the way your voice gets stuck in your throat.

“Here?” He has the nerve to whisper gently, “Rub here, right? Y’like that?” Sukuna asks as he matches his thrusts with the flick of his thumb, drinking in the way your back arches up off of the couch and your eyes roll back.

You’re nodding, “Yes yes-, r-right there ‘Kuna, fuck…”

His eyes rake over your face all over again and then he’s doing that thing where he speaks without thinking, “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

Of course, those softly uttered words pull you out of your cockdrunken stupor for only a moment, “H-Huh?” You breathe out as your eyes meet his.

“I hate you,” Sukuna lies straight through his teeth, “Hate how pretty you look beneath me,” He’s babbling at this point, picking up his pace and trying to angle his cock into somewhere specific, “How fuckin’—god you’re squeezin’ me s’tight, hahh—h-how you sound moaning my name, taking my cock.” With that last sentence comes a particularly harsh thrust.

Your nails scrape at his back again and he moans in pleasure. Gloss covers your eyes as he finally finds that spot that has you seeing stars, “Sukuna,” You moan sweetly, feeling him hit that very spot over and over and over again.

“Again,” He huffs, leaning down even closer and pressing more of his weight onto you, “Moan my name again, brat.”

“Sukuna,” You’re moaning without the need for his instruction. To hell if the man is a virgin, he knows how to use his cock.

What he doesn’t realize is how big he is in comparison to anyone else you’ve been with. Stretching you open with every thrust, fucking you ridiculously full of all his thick inches, knocking his dripping tip right against your sweet spot, making your legs tingle in numbness, and rolling skillful circles around your clit as if he’d practiced doing so before.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Sukuna rasps out, his eyes locked dead onto yours as usual.

He was so focused on you, so eager to make you cum. Obviously, he’d never felt anything like this before so he never wants it to end. And perhaps that’s the only reason why he hasn’t emptied himself into you yet.

Every time you’re felt leaving another bright red mark on his back, he lets out a low hiss before flashing a smirk down at you, thrusts growing harder. Then there’s the way you just gape up at him, jaw dangling as you’re so clearly lost in pleasure, and pussy swallowing him in whole each time he fucks himself back into you.

And your little gasps of, “Feels s-so good Kuna, don’t stop.” Have him reeling back on purpose, pretending to mistakenly slip his cock out of you for a moment only to slap his fat cockhead against your needy hole and then push all of himself right back in.

With a smug expression on his face, “Don’t tell me what t’do,” He responds.

“I jus’ did,” You argue back all in one breath.

God, he- , “I hate you,” The words are leaving his lips yet again but he can’t stop driving his dick inside you. You’re so fucking warm, so welcoming for him, so honeyed and sweet inside. Hell, for a second he wonders what you’d taste like on his tongue—despite never even going down on someone before.

“Yeah,” You flash a fucked-out little smile up at him and your walls grip onto him tighter, making his brows twist up, “But you love fuckin’ me.” Your little whisper makes him shudder.

He nearly cums at that, releasing a strangled groan before he just nods almost obediently, “Uhuh.” Sukuna mumbles, his hate for you growing with every passing second.

There you are under him, still teasing him despite the expression of pleasure plastered across your face, “Yeah?”

“M-Mhm,” He grumbles in response.

He can’t help but just agree with you. Of course he adores fucking you. If anything, he doesn’t think he’d prefer it be anyone else. After watching your cute ass all composed every week in class, listening to the way you lecture him for not paying attention as if you actually care about him, watching you grow surprised today at the way he can get things done when he puts in an effort-

Shit, of course he wanted to see you like this—splayed out like a pretty little slut for him, gasping his name, looking him in the eye, and allowing him to fuck you. God, his mind is spinning. He can’t think at all.

So lost in his head, you’re left spasming below him because he’s still thumbing at your clit and his cock is as unforgiving as ever, “Sukuna,” His name rolls off of your tongue beautifully and he’s left in awe above you.

Tilting his head, “What?” Sukuna breathes as he’s pulled from his daze and back to the present.

“Make me cum,” You order so suddenly.

As that third word leaves those lips of yours, Sukuna smirks knowingly and he leans up a little just to angle himself better inside you. He glances down at your cunt, biting his lip at the sight of his cock bulging inside you, watching himself push in and out for a second before his smirk turns into a lazy little smile.

“Already did’,” He scoffs, flicking his eyes back up to you.

Your brows twist up, “Wha-“

“Are you that dumb when cock is inside ya’?” He utters meanly and earns an immediate squeeze of your gummy walls around his veiny shaft, “You came a few minutes ago, brat.”

“I…” Your expression becomes dumbfounded and in an instant, you’re the one left embarrassed.

Which he finds all too cute, “Felt good though.” He comments smugly, looking back down to where you’re connected and tilting his head at the sight.

Fuck, he was so sexy above you. Even on his chest, bright red scratches decorated his skin. When did you do that? His nipples were still as flushed as his face and you wanted so badly to reach out and flick your fingers against them again.

Pouting, “Sukuna-“

“Do it again f’me,” The man cuts off.

You can’t even get a response out before he’s leaning down again, “I-“

This time you’re cut off by him pressing your legs together and against your chest, loving the pretty sight of you folded and bent to his will like this. All he can do is stare down and watch himself fuck you, seeing your swollen lips take in his fat length so fucking beautifully. It’s like you were made for him or something.

Your cunt only molds around his cock, sucking him in whenever he pulls out like you never wanted him to leave you. He could feel every throb of your pussy when he spoke to you, every squeeze of your warmth when he reached deeper than before, and fuck was he enamored by every second of it.

“Please,” He says breathlessly all of a sudden, itching to watch you cum on his cock this time around.

His begging is followed by him moving his hand back down to your pussy, his thumb sliding back in search of your clit. Rubbing those maddening little circles once he finds it, Sukuna focuses most of his attention on your body. Every little jump you make when he swats his thumb to the left, every pitch in your moan when he thrusts inside you at a certain pace—Sukuna soon smiles once he’s got you all figured out.

“Oh fuck,” You whimper, tossing your head back against the couch as your eyes loll to the back of your hand.

With that knowing smile on his face, the couch creaks with his rough thrusts inside you, “Stop makin’ me beg you for shit,” Sukuna grunts before gifting your throbbing pussy with a little smack, “Jus’ give it t’me.”

“Sukuna-, ah,” You’re choking at the sensation and your cunt narrows even more around him.

His toned pelvis smacks against you over and over, heavy balls hitting your ass with each shove of his fat cock inside your warmth, “Fuck,” The man heaves as he feels himself steadily growing addicted.

Why the hell didn’t he have sex with someone sooner?

“M’gonna cum,” You soon whine out to the man.

To which he clashes into you faster, feining for it, “Please, fuckin’ need it,” Sukuna groans before pressing down against you again.

His thrusts grow uneven and jagged, eyes rolling back when he feels you finally cumming around his cock for a second time. You were squeezing him so tight. All he could do was moan at how perfect you were.

“Shiit,” He huffs, his cock twitching wildly inside you before his mind goes completely blank, “I love you-“

Your brows immediately twist up, “Wha-“

And then he’s painting your walls white. Grunting, groaning, moaning-, hell, you name it and the sound was leaving his lips as he fucks his orgasm into you.

Then he’s babbling mindless little praises of, “Love this fuckin’ pussy,” Lost in filling you with his cum and listening to you whimper from overstimulation.

Gifting you with praise after praise about how beautiful you are under him like this, how much he adores his name rolling off your tongue. He can’t even fathom how much cum is spilling into you, velvety thick ropes painting your walls a creamy white to the point where it spills out of you and coats his hefty base with a filthy ring of white.

All while he continued to praise you, going as far as thank you in quiet little whispers. God, he was out of his mind. He wasn’t thinking in the slightest, his mouth was just saying shit.

So much so that he’s barely lucid as his high comes down, doesn’t process a thing he said to you moments ago, and just lays there for a while with his cock resting inside you. All he can do is pant heavily as he rests his body on top of you, not yet pulling out and leaving his softened cock inside you.

You’re completely still beneath him for a while, trying to catch your breath as your legs feel temporarily numb. You couldn’t get those three words he spoke to you out of your head.

His tone was so damn soft and vulnerable, just replaying it in your head made you smile. Before he notices your expression though, you wipe the smirk off of your face and coo his name softly, “Sukuna…?”

“Don’t.” Is all he has to say to you. He was well aware of what he’d said to you.

He didn’t mean it, of course. He was simply… lost in the moment.

“Aww,” You purr, an obvious breathlessness to your tone, “You said you loved me cause I took your virginit-“

Sukuna lets out a mean groan before moving your legs apart so he can meet your eyes again, “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

You flash a pout to mock him, “Why? ‘Cause I didn’t say it back?”

His face is all different shades of blush but he still looks as mean and grumpy as ever, “No…”

“You sure?” You tease further.

All he can do is roll his eyes at you, “Fuck you.”

And, naturally, you only continue, “I think you did that already…”

Sukuna sighs, “Just.. Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“As long as you promise we’ll do this more often.”

“I-, hah,” He smirks, “What are you, some kinda cockhungry slut?”

“No…” Your eyes drag themselves elsewhere for a moment, “But for you, maybe.”

“Mh.” Sukuna hums deeply, an unavoidable smile spreading across his face, “I think I like that.”

“I think you love it-“

“M’gonna ‘love’ fucking the snarky responses outta’ your mouth in a second if you keep it up,” He says flawlessly.

All you can do is swallow down whatever it is you were going to respond to that with.

To which he smiles, “Uhuh, that’s what I thought.”

perm sukuna tags (1/2):

@crude-saint @cupidstrace @iiakithegoat @hellodeeyanna @navyllll @grignardsreagent @kingofpiratesiguess @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa444 @etsuniiru @starsryi

@not-a-glad-gladiator @audiblez @2kool4skoolll @o4tmilf @elliescumtubeslut @daxphoriax @gorouenjoyer @oookore @whore4hobie @blubearxy

@wonderfullymickey @iaintblockinnobody @anothergojostan @kitassecretgf @iam-souless @nanamitiddiechomper @ohreallyfriend @kunababy @withersworld @lilacsforveins

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@simp4idk @haazelnuutloover @booboobear-12 @aryaelan @mattsukitty @riameriash @liasacountgothacked @arminseas2 @5seos @palanggaaa

[slvttyplum]

satoru putting a vibrator wand on your clit and no matter how much you beg and plead, he’ll keep it there and laugh at you while he does it.

what really turned him on, though, was putting a cloth inside or around your mouth and watching your facial reaction as you get overstimulated.

your chest is rising and falling every time he turns the speed on the wand faster. it hurts so bad, but you keep cumming.

“you want me to believe you want to stop when you’re squirting?” taking the wand, moving it away, and swiping the squirt that comes off.

he got off to you, begging with your eyes and your whimpers.

your clit and hole were sore by the time he got done with you, and he’s never actually done with you.

he even got a dildo machine and would put you in front of it, restrain you, and put the wand on your clit.

the double pleasure you received from that died out quickly when you got overstimulated, with tears rushing down your face and muffled cries from beneath the cloth.

satoru would just stare at you and laugh while his hard-on twitched in his pants; he fucking loved it.

“there you go, you can keep going.” he’ll coo from the corner as his eyes trailed over every bit of your body as he watched you get fucked out of your mind.

this would go on for hours and hours—just hours of you getting fucked by this machine and overstimulated by the wand.

after he got tired of watching, satoru would fuck you himself, and feeling his dick pulse inside, shortly after cum inside you, it felt good.

“you love this shit don’t you, hm?” his hands on your breasts, squeezing them as he pushes into you once more, his dick passing your sweet spot.

your body became extra sensitive to the toys, so every time he touched you, your pussy would get wet and your nipples would get hard.

even when he would fuck you, you would cum in under five minutes, which made satoru want to abuse your pussy even more.

slapping it, putting a vibrating dildo inside of you—anything you can think of—he did it, and it had you jerking with pleasure.

one time, satoru put you on a chair, put the vibrator under you, and had you stay there for hours.

by the time he came back, the chair and floor were soaked in your fluids, your eyes rolled back, and your body was jumping from each tiny orgasm that followed.

“don’t tell me you don’t like this shit when you cum over yourself.” his words are soft as he looks down at you.

He liked seeing you get overstimulated; he liked putting his fingers inside of you and feeling your wetness coat his fingers; he liked hearing your pleads and whimpers.

no matter what, he was going to torture your clit, if your pussy wasn’t aching or if you weren’t begging him to stop by the end of the night, he'd start over, and it'd be even more intense.

if one toy dies, he’ll go to the other, and the cycle will repeat. when he was done teasing you, nothing would come out of your mouth.

like they disappeared; you couldn’t even think.

that’s why, after a certain time of being fucked silly, you’ll just accept the pleasure that came and sink into the overstimulation.

the only way you could communicate with him was through your moans and whimpers, like the slut you are.

[arinavah]

haircut

[madamechrissy]

mdni 18+ - doctor! Gojo (ob/gyn) x fem! reader

gyno! Gojo getting distracted by his patient's coochie (you) inappropriate workplace behavior, breaking oaths, they're awkward lol, fingering, orgasms, spitting, talking you through it, nerdjo, he's shy even knuckles deep inside you <3 (3k)

"Are you comfortable?" Doctor Gojo asks with a friendly smile, washing his hands and looking over his shoulder at you.

Are you comfortable when you're in nothing but an open hospital gown and your feet are in stirrups!? In front of the most gorgeous man you've ever seen!?

No, you're not. You're flustered and embarrassed despite his calm demeanor and how he does everything with ease. You bite down on your lower lip, clutching the little sheet thrown over your lap, nodding.

He dries his hands that you can't help but look at a little too long. Elegant fingers, thick ones that make you blush thinking of going inside you. It's got you swallowing nervously. Trying to remember it's a check up not a damn date.

He's just doing his job, slipping you a little smile, blue eyes glimmering in a myriad of shades. "Latex allergy sweetheart?"

"Huh?" How long are his fingers!?

"Do you have an allergy to latex?" You flush again, shaking your head. "Perfect."

Doctor Gojo sits in front of you, slipping on those gloves and then putting a comforting hand on your thigh. You fucking moan.

You moan.

This is so embarrassing!?

"Sorry," you whisper, shutting your eyes.

"Is it the cramps? I saw you were having some issues with that," he asks softly, white hair falling just a bit over his brow.

"Um. Yes." You have been cramping alot, but this was definitely not that. You try to remember why you're here, looking at him again, almost unable to handle the eye contact. "Really bad ones before my period."

"Scans were all good," he lifts your sheet up and pauses just a moment, eyeing your cunt in what he attempts to do professionally. Yet he can't help but almost spill out how pretty it is, that would not be okay to say, even if he is an expert. "Everything looks great actually."

Yiur thighs clamp shut. He raises a brow. "Sorry!"

"Relax," he gently helps you spread your thighs, blushing himself when he sees you're glistening already. He can't mention it of course but it's dripping between your lips. "Have you had an exam?"

"Of course, just... um... nervous." He hums a bit to himself, parting your folds with soft gloves, you almost moan again, biting down hard. He looks up at you, leaning down just a bit, far too close to your cunt.

You're suddenly so insecure! What if it looks weird to him!? What if he can freaking inhale it, does it smell good? You washed it before coming but what if-

"Take a breath," he murmurs, inspecting your insides and almost whimpering when he sees your hole fucking wink at him. "You're tense, and it'll hurt if you're this tight."

Fuck.

Dr. Gojo just called a patient tight.

"I mean... tight muscles," he's stammering for a moment, you're just too pretty and now you have him nervous. "That's good though, are you um... doing kegals."

You blink.

"Yes? Can you just... tell?" He sighs, trying to remember why the fuck you're here, slipping a finger inside to just the tip, and you clench him over the glove, soaking it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Yes your muscle response is impeccable," he wants to feel it clenching his tongue, gather all those juices and suck them off his fingers. "Try to relax because for this exam I have to get two fingers inside you. "You're small down there."

"Oh of course," you want to fall off the face of the earth when he pulls his finger back. You feel slippery arousal pouring down your slit, his soft sigh tickling your thigh. "Did you already put that gel stuff on?"

"No," you blush again, so hot your cheeks are on fire, realizing that's all you. "I can but you seem to have a good amount of... natural lubricant."

You're gonna die.

"Want me to grab the cold gel?" He teases, plump lips curling up, you almost ask him to spit on it, but you manage some sense.

"No, it's okay, I trust you," you shouldn't, not when he leans down and spits right on his fingers and watches his own spit move on puffy lips.

He can't do that he's a fucking doctor. How many pussies has he seen!? But the thrill of knowing it's on you had his cock throbbing underneath those purple scrubs, he covers it with his labcoat, watching the bubbles dissolve on your glistening cunt.

"How do you usually loosen up? Don't want to hurt you." You shut your eyes, spreading your thighs more for him.

"Like how do I..."

"You can feel comfortable with me, we need to find out what's making you cramp up too."

"I tense really bad before sex too, it doesn't feel the best."

"Oh..." Satoru eases a finger inside again, curving it up and watching you jerk. "When is the last time you had sex?"

"Like a year or two, I just use my rose - Oh my god!" You cover your face again, eyes rolling back when he crooks those fingers. "Mmh!"

"Don't be shy, masturbation is normal and healthy even. Orgasms are good for you," Dr. Gojo pulls his finger out to watch you drop down onto the thin paper you're laying on, exhaling against the sight. "Clitoral stimulation helps you?"

You nod, gasping when he slips a finger and finds it, the sounds of your wet cunt echoing in the room. "Yes, it does."

"Is it all right if I stimulate it to loosen you up? If not tell me."

You arch your hips, lashes fluttering, it takes a lot for Gojo not to yank off his gloves and fuck into you. "Yes um if you think it'll help?"

"It might," he runs a circle and watches that clit twitch against his thumb, more slick pouring from you. "You do respond well to it. Did your partners do this?"

"No they sucked," Satoru chuckles a bit, and the mood lightens, he acts perfectly professional while he's pressing on your clit, pleasure rushing through you. "That is relaxing."

"I want my patient comfortable," he murmurs, he shouldn't be allowed to look like that and sound like that. Your cunt is spasming when he slips his finger back in, the messy sounds so loud you bury your face. "It's a good thing, when your natural lubricant flows. It means your hormones are doing a good job."

"Oh," Satoru crooks his finger up, eyeing you under snowy lashes then, your breasts rising and falling, thighs trembling. "I do feel um... more... relaxed."

"That's good. You're doing such a good job for me," you're done for, his finger hitting that spot in slick walls, thumb still massaging your jumping clit. "Orgasms can help cramps too, even during your period."

"I can't um touch it during that," You're arching for more, thighs spread so wide, hands damn near ripping the paper underneath you, it tears just a bit and echoes in his impeccably clean office.

"That's understandable but your partner could," you laugh a little.

"None of them would have fucked me on my period - I mean!? Um, stimulated me."

"Some people are squeamish," he starts to ease two inside, you're trembling at the stretch. "It's natural, periods. And it's normal to get cramps, we just have to find a good way to help them."

"I see, ngh!" He pauses at your little moan, juices flowing down his fingers, tall body hunched just a bit over you. "Oh my god I'm so sorry."

"It’s too much for you, sweetheart? Two?"

You nod just a bit, and he sighs, pulling back his hand then.

"You're too tight, that could be why you don't find sex so enjoyable if you're not getting off first - I mean, having orgasms before intercourse."

"That could be um, I'll loosen up so you can do the exam," you hear his glove smack then.

"It may help if I don't wear a glove, are you okay with that? It may help your nerves."

Satoru needs to feel your gummy walls without a dumb fucking barrier. You're blinking at him, seeing him take one off, then the other.

"My hands are sterile," he tries to hide his feral grin, knowing he's fucking depraved for this, but his cock is just leaking too much. "I'll try and you tell me what you prefer."

"Yes, of course," Satoru's fingers brush down your slit into your hole, sinking in - slippery from you, buried to the knuckle suddenly. It feels so good you can't hold back your little whimper, hips bucking up. You feel every line and callous of his thick fingers, cunt gripping him like she's scared he'll leave. "Oh!"

Satoru's cock leaks at the sight of your pussy sucking his fingers in like that, the sight of it so greedy, stretched around his bare hand is too much. His fingers pull back and then insert again, and again, a messy squelch echoing in the room, gossamer swirls of your arousal coating his fingers.

Fuck he's going against every oath he took and looking for more to break.

Is eating out patients not a good method of exam? Surely your taste -

He can't do all that! He shouldn't even be fingering your messy cunt like this, pads of them curving up in that spot that makes you twitch and gush. Your cheeks are flush, eyes rolling back, hips just rolling when he runs a thumb over your clit once more.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart," you barely focus, stretched so full and stuffed more from him than you had been any man. Your lashes flutter at his command, he leans down just a bit as he works you. "There you go, you're loosening up for me. Does it feel good like this?"

Are you having a filthy daydream of the pretty blue eyed doctor, or is he talking you through an orgasm?

"I... um... y-yes," your whisper escapes your lips with a sigh, Doctor Gojo's expert fingers curling up with precision, feeling you spasm and tighten, slick and hot around his digits. You're pulsing already, making him have to palm himself to adjust, before darting his thumb back to your clit. "Mnh... Doctor Gojo, I..."

"Your muscles are responding so well," fuck is everything sexy from his mouth? You're trying not to cum, but failing spectacularly, a dripping wet mess soaking his bare hand, the sounds of his fingers and your needy cunt loud. "Your pussy- I mean, um!? Vagina/vulva ah it's very um... pretty - healthy!?"

Satoru Gojo's glasses fog up just a bit, sweat beading on his brow, he doesn't know what's come over him - but he knows he needs you to cum for him, and he's not stopping until you do. Do you squirt, do you drip, do you get creamy?

Fuck he must know - for scientific purposes, that's why he's a doctor, right? Love of science and medicine?

How many oaths would it break if he were to breed his patient?

"I'm... your fingers ngh they're thick and - I mean!? Thorough! They're so thorough," you're rolling your hips up for every filthy thrust, Satoru leans low and practically inhales you, you feel something wet slap your clit, his eyes feral and black then behind lenses. "F-fuck... I mean!?"

"S'okay, we're - hah - helping the cramps, r-right?" He's scissoring his long fucking fingers in and out of your now sloppy little cunt, your nails press into his forearms, just making him moan softly.

"Yes, helping them, mhm," your eyes roll back in your skull, nails digging in his pale skin and leaving cresenct marks, the sweet scent of your arousal filling his senses, overtaking the sterile alcohol in the room. God if he could bottle your pussy juice he would. "You're s-such an amazing um... d-doctor!"

"Thank you, I t-take my... career... so seriously," he's about to bust in his pants, damn near acting as if he's never seen a pussy before yours, but he's not ever been affected. You're pulsing and tightening down then, clamping his fingers and sucking them inside, teeth clenched. "Remember, eyes on me, sweetheart. For... medical reasons."

Your eyes focus on his, he crooks those fingers up one more time, a mess pouring as he does, and he watches his pretty patient cum on his fingers. You're so loud he has to pull up, slamming a big palm on your cute lips, muffling your desperate cries as he shoves them in fully, heel of his hand massaging your needy clit.

"Mmph!" You're blacking out nearly, hardly able to keep that eye contact, with the doctor whose glasses have slipped down the bridge of his nose, his lips spit slicked. You're gushing down his fingers, louder and louder as he eases them in and out slower, pushing you over the edge again.

"Fuck," he murmurs, cursing at his lack of professionality, leaning back to see just how you cum. "Creamy, fuck."

"H-huh?" Your voice is still muffled, he moans, looking and the milky ring formed at the bottom of his fingers, he almost sinks to his knees with you still in that fucking hospital gown, instead gently easing them out, watching your hole twitch as he spreads your lips.

"Your response to stimulation, it's scientific you see - creaming or squirting."

"Oh, it is?" He feels himself pressing hard against his boxers, leaking through and leaving a wet spot in his scrubs, blush furiously smattered on his cheeks. "Which is better?"

Anything you do.

"They're both healthy responses," he wants to suck his goddamn fingers so badly, but he has already crossed every fucking line known to man, so instead he hovers a moment, wanting to ask about you. who are you, are you single - it says yes on your chart sure, but still. What do you like? Do you play video games?

He's imagining a date right now - him, Doctor Gojo, a man who's all about his business can't stop getting flustered from your pretty little pussy that's leaking your cum still. He turns then, unsure of what to say, as your thighs tremble, your breath quickening.

You feel so embarrased! You're thinking he wanted you to cum, what if he was just... like helping? Examining? You've never even really been to a gyno before! You hastily put a sheet on, looking down nervously as he stands there, fingers still in your slick.

"I'm so sorry!"

"What!? Why? Did you um... enjoy the exam?" He asks, you nod shyly, he is so close to busting he has to do something. "I'll be right back with your uh... results, just hold on, okay?"

He rushes to the bathroom, leaning back and shutting the heavy door, sucking your juices off his fingers and moaning, using his other hand to free his aching cock. God it's hard, sticking to his boxers, he has to tug it free and slowly stroke it, moaning softly.

"Go ask her out," he whispers to himself, with every stroke of his hand, every glide around the thickness he almost stuffed inside you on that patient bed. He can't with himself, what is going on, he's never like this!?

God your taste.

"Maybe we could hah go to a movie?" He practices in the mirror, seeing his disheveled appearance, cock loud with every fwap as he jerks it quickly, trying to finish before he looks more suspicious. He whimpers your name and flutters his eyes shut, picturing your cunt grippin' his cock like a vice, moaning as he cums.

White spurts everywhere, all over his hands, all over the sink, he curses with a shaky breath, cleaning it frantically when he rushes back out, and you're all dressed, holding your purse. He falters, suddenly shy as you tuck your hair behind your ear, the taste of your cunt still coating his tongue.

"I ah... think your cramps could be a lot of tension," he manages to say softly. "And elevated hormones, just a bit too much estrogen, but not enough for concern."

"Thank you so much, um, what should I do for them?"

"Warm compress, a hot bath, ibuprofen," his dick, his mouth, his fingers, god use him. "All of that should help a long with..."

"Orgasms?"

"Y-yes, they can help," you rush off suddenly then, and Gojo curses, pacing back and forth in his office.

God why couldn't he ask you out!? After he sucked your cum off his fingers no less?

Suddenly, Satoru has quite an idea - his fucked out brain thinks so, at least. He sits at his little desk and pulls up his laptop, starting to type notes into your patient portal, smirking as he does. He's sure you're the type to check them, so he wonders if you'll get the code here.

***Patient comes in with an exceptionally tight set of muscles, and was having some trouble with cramping, as well as pain during sex. She was a good girl for me beautiful example of a patient, her responses were so good, she listened to all instructions from the doctor. Her cunt vagina was a pretty shape, color, and had a lovely taste consistency.***

Satoru grins, inserting his phone number throughout the message in little places, heart racing.

God he wonders if you like Digimon or Pokemon? He could handle either, if it meant being with you.

***The patient should come back for more visits to work on relaxing her stupidly tight vagina, she took well to treatment, she should cum come more often to make sure she's comfortable and resolves any cramps in the future. Patient should contact me with any questions are you free on friday? or concerns.***

He's sure you never saw the damn notes when a week goes by, when he gets a call, answering it in the middle of lunch. "Gojo speaking."

"Um... hi... it's..."

"Oh my god!? Hi!" He almost knocks his coffee over, so fucking excited he's grinning, he can't see your nervous blush on the other line, chewing your thumb and taking shaky breaths. "How are you?'

"I'm good, I am uh... maybe insane but, would you like to go out-"

"Yes."

You blink then. "Um, I didn't say where?"

"Anywhere." You giggle, and he throbs from that, sighing and shutting his eyes. "I'll take you anywhere."

"All right, Doctor Gojo I'll send you where to pick me up," you hang up shakily, and Gojo makes quite a loud shout that the entire office hears.

"Back to work, ahem." He says, stepping out, but he cannot keep the smile off his face.

Perverted and cute???? bahaha this was a Patreon idea actually those chats get a little insaneee

[sweetieelilii]

18+ ⸝⸝⸝ birthday boy 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 getting blowed by his shy girl

gojo notices how quiet you are for the entirety of the day—his day. you’re right there beside him through his birthday party, but something’s been off.

you’re quiet and it’s not your usual shyness that amplifies around his boisterous friends.

you seem more tense. distracted.

his friends don’t notice a thing. to them, this is just you being you. you’re always polite, soft spoken, always making yourself small at the edge of the couch, sipping your drink like you’re trying not to disturb the air around you.

but him?

he sees it instantly. feels it like a tug in his chest.

he watches you from across the room—how your eyes flick to him and then away too fast—how you keep touching your sleeves, your collar, the hem of your pretty little dress, how you nod along to conversations you aren’t actually hearing.

and you?

you pretended not to feel his eyes on you during his entire party—sharp and curious, softening each time you avoided his gaze.

the others joked, drank, ate cake, shouted over each other. and you smiled when spoken to, nodded when needed, hiding behind practiced composure.

he didn’t buy it.

he stayed close, brushing your back lightly when he passed, catching your wrist when you slipped too far away, giving you that quiet, knowing look that always made your stomach flip.

you lasted through the whole party like that—swallowing nerves, swallowing words, swallowing the weight of the gift you wanted to give that was burning a hole in your chest. because it wasn’t something you could hand him in a box. and it wasn’t something you’d ever given anyone.

the party finally dies down, geto leaving last. he claps gojo on the back, offering a half joking, “don’t stay up too late, birthday boy.”

the moment the words land the the door clicks shut behind him, your nerves spike and you hesitate where you stand.

gojo exhales dramatically, stretching, shirt riding up to expose a sliver of toned skin.

“finally,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “thought they’d never leave.”

his voice is playful but the second he turns his head toward you, the grin slips off his face.

“okay,” he says slowly. “what’s wrong?”

you blink. caught completely off guard. “what—? nothing’s—”

“sweetheart.”

he steps toward you, closing the distance with those long strides that have always made escape impossible. now he’s standing right in front of you, tall and warm and impossible to meet in the eyes.

“you’ve been nervous the whole day.” it’s not an accusation—just stating a fact.

you look away, heat creeping up your neck.

he bends down so he can see your face, tilting his head, searching your expression like he’s flipping through a book he’s read a hundred times but suddenly found a new page.

“did i do something?”

the sincerity in his voice is unbearable.

it makes your stomach twist because the thing you’ve been planning suddenly feels huge—like a wave you shouldn’t be standing in front of.

“no! of course not…” you mumble, embarrassed, barely audible, fingers twisting in your sleeves.

he watches you fidget—really watches—and something settles in his expression, knowing and fond.

“then what’s got you nervous like this?” he asks softly, reaching out to touch your wrist. his fingers barely brush your skin, but you jolt anyway. “talk to me, baby.”

you try again, “i— it’s not… it’s nothing, really—”

“you don’t look like nothing.” he steps closer, and lifts your chin with two fingers so you can’t hide from him. “you look like you’re about to pass out.”

your face burns so hot it hurts, heart thudding loud enough you’re sure he hears it.

“satoru—”

“mm?” he hums, thumb stroking your jaw, patient in that devastating way he only is with you.

you swallow hard, mouth going dry, nerves spiking so sharp you feel dizzy. you open your lips—then shut them again.

his gaze flickers over your face, lingering on the way your lashes flutter and your body leans toward him even as you try to shy away. the silence stretches until your lungs feel too tight to hold any more air.

you force yourself to breathe.

you force yourself to try again.

“i… i wanted…”

the words scrape up your throat like they’re too big, too wrong, too embarrassing to say out loud. his brows pinch, gentle concern knitting between them as he lowers his hand to cradle your cheek.

“baby,” he murmurs, “whatever it is, you can tell me.”

you shake your head weakly, fingers bunching in the front of his shirt like you need something to hold on to before you collapse.

you hate the the heaviness in your chest and the way your tongue trips over itself…but god, do you wanna make him feel good on his special day. you want to make him happy tonight—really happy. the thought of backing out now makes your stomach twist.

you squeeze your eyes shut, inhale sharply, and somehow force your mouth to move.

“um… i wanted…” your voice cracks. you swallow and try again.“…to give you something else for your birthday.”

he softens instantly, thumb sweeping across your cheekbone.

“oh?” he lets out in a whisper. “something you didn’t want the others seeing?”

“yes… i mean— n-no— it’s not— it’s not that kind of— well—”

you squeeze your eyes shut again, mortified.

why can’t you just say it?

why does your tongue stop working the second his blue eyes get soft like that?

you feel his fingers touch your chin—barely there, just enough pressure to keep you from retreating.

“hey,” he murmurs. “look at me.”

you do, reluctant and helpless.

he tilts his head, brows pulling together in a concern so earnest it makes your chest ache again.

“sweetheart,” he says softly, “you can always tell me whatever want to. i promise i won’t laugh.”

your throat tightens. “you’re… you’re gonna think it’s stupid that i’m getting like this over it—”

“i won’t.” he says it instantly, without hesitation. “i swear.”

you swallow hard. your palms are sweating. your heart is pounding so loud you’re sure he can hear it.

“it’s just…” you drag in a shaky breath. “i… um…wanted to… try something. with you.”

his eyes soften further if that was even possible, focused entirely on you. “okay. i’m listening.”

you squeeze your eyes shut for half a second—then shove the words out before you can lose another ounce of courage.

“i wanna go down on you.”

it comes out too fast, tripping over itself, like you’re afraid the sentence will burn your tongue if it stays there too long.

you’re met with silence.

you rush on, panicked, “i-it’s your birthday and it’s stupid and i didn’t know how to initiate it and i got all nervous and weird but i really— i really wanna…do it…”

your words spill out too fast, too raw, and you squeeze your lips shut like you’re afraid more will escape. your eyes drop, heart pounding.

and gojo just… stops.

like someone pulled the plug on him.

his breath stutters—actually stutters—shoulders lifting with the sharp inhale he tries and fails to hide.

“wait.” his voice cracks. “wait—baby—hey, look at me.”

you don’t. can’t.

so he steps even closer, hand slipping under your chin once more, lifting gently, almost trembling.

“you…” he swallows hard, throat working. “you wanna do that for me? really?”

his eyes are blown wide like you just told him the sweetest, filthiest secret in the universe.

you nod. just barely.

that’s all it takes.

his jaw goes slack. his breath leaves him in a rough, broken laugh, disbelief and something molten all tangled together.

“oh my god.” he presses his forehead to yours, voice low, ruined. “you’ve been nervous all day because you’ve been thinking about giving me a blowjob?”

the way he says it—unfiltered and blunt hits you so hard your knees nearly buckle. your breath catches in your throat, a tiny, humiliating squeak slipping out before you can stop it. your whole body goes hot, prickling from your ears to your fingertips.

“d-don’t say it so…crudely,” you whine, voice breaking, hands flying up to hide your face.

but he catches your wrists before you can cover yourself, gently tugging them down, forcing you to face him. he lets out another strangled laugh.

“like what?” he coos, and he’s too close, too warm, too wrecked. “like it’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me?”

your pulse jumps so violently you swear he can feel it through your skin. your mouth opens helplessly, but nothing comes out—just a shaky breath.

“that’s not— satoru!” you whine accusingly.

your eyes drop to his chest, anywhere but his face, because you can’t handle the look he’s giving you—soft, stunned, and hungry all at once.

“i… i wasn’t trying to make it a big thing,” you manage, voice weak. “i just— wanted to… and then you kept getting closer, and i got more nervous, and—”

your words dissolve into a mortified whimper.

his thumb brushes your cheek, slow, soothing, but his voice is rough when he answers, “sweetheart, you have no idea what you do to me.”

his hand settles at your waist again, warm and unsure, and he swallows like he’s trying to steady himself.

“c’mon,” he murmurs, voice low, breath uneven. “let’s…sit. just for a second.”

you nod, letting him guide you, both of you tense in different ways. he’s trying so hard to be gentle, but his fingers keep tightening on your hips like he’s terrified you’ll change your mind.

the couch touches the backs of your legs and you sit automatically.

he drops down beside you a heartbeat later, elbows on his knees, exhaling like he’s been holding his breath for hours.

for a moment he just looks at you.

then, “hey,” he says quietly. “look at me?”

you do, shy and trembling.

he wets his lips, throat bobbing. “do you… still wanna? you don’t have to. i need you to tell me you really—”

you don’t let him finish. the second the question hits the air, something clicks inside you—like your body decides for you.

you slide off the couch, onto your knees. between his legs.

his breath stops. actually stops.

“oh—” the sound he makes isn’t even a word, just a broken gasp punched out of him. his thighs tense under your hands, his head dropping back against the couch like you knocked the strength out of him. “baby… you—”

you look up at him, flushed and shaky but determined.

“i want to,” you whisper. “i want you.”

whatever fragile control he had left shatters right there.

his hand flies to his mouth like he needs to physically hold himself together, eyes blown and desperate as he looks down at you kneeling for him.

“holy shit,” he breathes, voice wrecked. “sweetheart. you’re gonna kill me.”

you meant to focus. but the moment you look up at him—really look—you forget how to breathe. his cheeks are pink, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears, lips parted and glossy.

but his eyes? god. his blue eyes are wide and glassy, pupils blown like he’s drunk on you.

you’ve seen him confident, smug, teasing. but this? this trembling version of him just from a suggestion? you’re immediately obsessed with it. more than you should be. more than you can ever admit out loud.

your breath catches, and his does too because he feels you staring.

“don’t—” he tries, voice breaking, “don’t look at me like that…”

but you can’t stop.

your gaze drops, almost on instinct, and—oh. he’s hard. already. he’s straining against his bottoms, so obvious it makes your face burn and your thighs clench.

you swallow, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet room.

your fingers twitch on his knees, suddenly unsure where to touch, what to do first.

he sees the moment you notice. his jaw clenches, a shaky breath escaping him.

“i told you,” he groans, ruined even though you haven’t even touched him. “you have no idea what you do to me.”

you look up at him from the floor, flustered and overwhelmed. the sight of him—beautiful, breathless, trying so hard not to fall apart—makes your chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with nerves.

you love him, love how he looks like this. and you love that you did this to him. he can see every bit of it in your eyes. you sit there between his knees, staring, heart pounding so hard it feels like it’s shaking your whole body.

finally, you whisper, “how should i start?”

his head drops back against the couch for a second, like he needs a whole moment just to survive that question. when he looks at you again, his eyes are molten.

“c’mere,” he murmurs. “we’ll go slow.”

you nod, but your hands won’t stop trembling.

still, you carefully reach for him an he lifts his hips automatically when your fingers curl into his waistband. he’s trying to stay calm for you, but the tension in his thighs gives him away.

you pull his jeans down first.

then his boxers.

you’ve seen him before—you’ve had him inside you for goodness sake—but you’ve never seen him like this. never this close. never with him hard, flushed, thick, and heavy within hands reach.

your heart lurches.

seeing him like this is different. overwhelming. your eyes drag up from the base to the tip before you can stop yourself, taking in every vein and curve.

you go still, heat flooding your cheeks. he’s a lot. more than you remembered and even more than you’ve mentally prepared yourself for. your lips part on a tiny, strangled inhale you wish you could take back.

satoru’s entire body freezes.

his abs flex, breath catching.

and then his eyes flick down, following your gaze to where his cock stands against his stomach—hard, leaking, and flushed an angry red—and back up to your stunned expression.

he swallows hard.

“baby?” his voice is soft, but strained. “what’s that look for?”

you can’t answer. not right away.

you’re too busy trying not to panic, too busy wondering how you’re supposed to fit that in your mouth.

“i-it’s just… i didn’t… i mean, i’ve seen it before but…” your face burns hotter. “not like this.”

his breath leaves him in a shaky exhale.

“fuck.”

he drags a hand through his hair, head tipping back for a second like he needs to physically reset himself.

when he looks at you again, he’s flushed—pink all the way to the tips of his ears—eyes blown wide in a way you’ve never seen.

“baby,” he murmurs, voice absolutely wrecked, “you’re gonna kill me saying things like that.”

your stomach flips violently.

you try to look away, but he reaches out, thumb brushing your cheek, drawing your gaze back to him.

“hey,” he breathes, “come back to me.” you do, slowly. still staring at him like you can’t believe what you’re about to try.“you don’t have to force yourself to do anything.”

“okay…” you whisper, barely audible. “i mean— i don’t know if it’ll even fit in my mouth… but i want to…try…”

the second the words leave you, his entire body jerks. his hand on your cheek falters, fingers curling like he’s fighting for control.

“you can’t just— say things like that…” he chokes out, head dropping forward for a moment.

your face burns, but you keep looking at him, wide eyed and wanting.

he sits up a little straighter, legs falling open just a bit more, like he’s inviting you in even if he’s about to lose his mind. his voice comes out low and uneven, “…look at me.”

you do.

“you don’t have to take all of me,” he murmurs. “just what you’re comfortable with. i promise, that’s more than enough.”

you swallow, the reassurance making your chest warm—and your pulse throb harder. you shift a little closer between his knees, hand brushing his thigh, and he inhales so sharply it punches through the air.

your gaze drops again, lingering on him—twitching just from how close your breath is.

“okay… um… show me how to start?”

he makes a sound you’ve never heard from him—half groan, half plea. “yeah,” he breathes, eyes dark, chest rising fast. “yeah, baby… i’ll show you.”

he reaches for your wrist, guiding your hand to the base of him.

your fingers curl instinctively, and he exhales—hard—head tipping back for a second before he forces himself to look at you again.

“start here,” he whispers, wrapping your hand around him with slow, deliberate patience. “not too tight… just enough to feel me.”

you nod, swallowing hard, adjusting your grip until you feel his cock twitch against your palm.

“yeah… just like that,” he says, voice barely holding together. “fuck, sweetheart…”

your hand moves a little, uncertain, and he covers it with his own, guiding the motion—slow, steady, enough to make his thighs tense beneath you.

“up… and down,” he breathes. “nice and slow.”

you follow his pace, cheeks burning, heart pounding.

his chest rises sharply, a quiet, broken sound slipping from him.

“god—baby, that’s perfect.”

you look up at him—because you can’t help it—and the sight nearly knocks the breath out of your lungs.

the satoru you know is gone.

his head tipped back against the couch, throat exposed, lashes fluttering like he’s fighting to keep his eyes on you. his chest rises and falls too fast, his abs tightening every time your hand moves.

and you haven’t even used your mouth yet like you want to.

your hand falters for a second, overwhelmedaayou can just barely close your fingers around the width of him—his hands are there immediately, steadying yours, guiding.

his voice is low. “don’t stop please.”

you bite your lip, nodding, and try again—slow, careful strokes, exactly like he showed you.

his reaction is instant. his breath catches, hips twitching just barely, like he’s trying so hard not to thrust into your hand. his eyes finally open, meeting yours—and the look he gives you is devastating.

“sweetheart,” he whispers, voice cracking, “you’re… fuck… doin’ so good.”

you swear your heart stops at the praise.

your thighs press together instinctively, and he notices—of course he does—but he’s too far gone to tease, too busy breathing like he’s forgetting how.

his fingers slide down your wrist again, gentler this time, like he’s savoring the feel of your hand on him. your pulse is hammering, chest tight, but you lean closer anyway, letting instinct take over.

without saying another word, you part your lips and lick his aching tip. he catches a sharp breath immediately, fingers tightening in your wrist, eyes rolling shut for a second.

the first taste of him is shocking, sweet and salty and completely alive. your tongue flicks over the mushroom tip, hesitant—too aware of how new this is, how intimate, how utterly personal.

and then you take the tip of him into your mouth. the sound he makes—soft, broken, almost a plea—sends a shiver straight through you.

you start slow, tentative, feeling how he reacts to the warmth of your mouth, the careful pressure of your lips.

“fuuck… oh god… baby… just like that…” his voice cracks, a mix of disbelief and need.

you glance up at him once, just for a moment, and the way he looks at you—flushed, pupils blown, eyelids half lidded, chest rising fast—makes your knees weaken.

you take a tiny inch more, lips sliding down slightly, the heat of him brushing against your tongue sending shivers up your spine. his fingers tangle in your hair, holding your head gently, and the way he looks at you makes your heart thrum painfully.

his taste is sharp, musky, with that faint hint of sweat and arousal, completely him. it makes your senses reel, every nerve in your body alive.

you try again, sliding carefully, more of him now in your mouth, tasting him fully, exploring slowly, as if memorizing every inch.

his hips twitch, just slightly, and he bites back a groan. his eyes flutter closed, chest rising and falling fast, breath coming in ragged gasps.

“baby… you’re… holy fuck…” he murmurs, voice breaking, voice so broken and undone it sends heat crawling down your spine. “you— you feel so— oh god…”

your hands tremble, gripping his base lightly to steady yourself, and you let your lips do the rest, discovering the way he reacts to the warmth of your mouth, the gentle pressure of your tongue, the careful movements you’re learning as you go.

it’s new. it’s overwhelming. it’s everything you knew you wanted—even more now that you have it.

every sound he makes—the broken groans, the sharp hitches of breath, the soft, pleading murmurs—drives you further, makes you want to take him deeper, savor every reaction, every shred of need he shows for you.

slowly, carefully, you take a little more, letting him slide deeper into your mouth. your throat stretches, the newness of it making your eyes water.

he groans sharply, hips twitching, fingers tangling more firmly in your hair. “oh… baby— baby—” his voice is ragged, trembling with need.

you try to go a little further, and your gag reflex hits sharp and sudden. you pull off of him instinctively, eyes watering.

“shit— it’s okay,” he rasps, voice breaking. “you good? just go slow, yeah?”

“uh huh…” you let out, cheeks flaming as you lower your mouth back around him to hide your embarrassment.

you take him back in, slower this time, letting your lips adjust, tongue tracing carefully along the underside. the gag hits again, half way down, small and sudden, but you fight through it, forcing yourself to keep going because you want to see him like this.

he groans sharply, hips twitching involuntarily, fingers tightening in your hair. “fuck— sorry— ugh… just like that…” his voice cracks, ragged and desperate.

you pause for just a second, catching your breath, then inch forward again, deeper, letting him guide you with subtle shifts of his hips. his reactions are addictive—every broken moan, every hitch of his breath, every trembling shiver makes your chest heat, makes your fingers and lips feel alive in ways you’ve never felt.

“holy… shit… baby… yes…” he rasps, head tipped back, flushed pink, pupils blown wide. “you’re… so good… so fucking good…”

the gag hits you again, but this time you don’t pull back. your lips clamp around his cock, adjusting as best you can. he exhales through his nose, eyes dark.

he swallows hard, breath hitching, chest rising unevenly. “shit… you’re really doing this…”

you move slowly, lips and tongue exploring, throat stretching.

“god, you… you have no idea how good that feels,” he rasps suddenly, tilting his head back. “i… i didn’t think… i’d—”

another shudder rolls through him, fingers gripping your hair but guiding you gently. “don’t stop…” his words come out as a whine that sends heat pooling deep in your core.

tears are flowing freely down your cheeks now, overwhelmed, but you keep going, wanting to see him like this, wanting to feel him fully.

you pull back up just slightly, letting your lips slide up and down slowly, trying to find a rhythm. even as you move, the gag keeps hitting in little jolts, sudden, making your throat tighten—but you push through it, determined, letting him feel every inch.

he whines, a soft, broken sound that makes your heat curl low in your stomach.

he can’t even talk anymore, words reduced to breathy curses and praise, “fuck— oh… god…baby…” his voice is ragged, strained, a low moan catching in his throat. “shiiit… that’s… fuck, yeah…”

your tears mix with the sweat and your own flushed heat, streaking down your cheeks, but you keep going, lips and tongue adjusting, swallowing past the gag each time, tasting him, memorizing every shiver, every pulse.

he trembles under your lips, hips twitching erratically, fingers clutching your hair, holding you close yet guiding gently.

“you’re so fucking pretty— fuck— i can’t—”

his breath hitches sharply, hips tilting, a strangled whine leaving him, and your hands grip his thighs tighter, holding on as the gags pull at your throat again—you refuse to pull back.

suddenly, he thrusts up into your mouth, harder than before, and your throat stretches around him, gagging sharply. your eyes water immediately, but instinctively you keep going.

“shit— baby—wait! oh god— i’m sorry!” he groans, voice cracking, fingers tugging at your hair as he tries to pull you off. his hips jerk erratically, desperate, ashamed even as he rides the sensation.

you hum around him, refusing to pull back. your eyes meet his briefly, teary and flushed, and the sound sends a shiver straight through him.

“fuck… i— shit… i can’t—” he repeats, leaning back, chest heaving, though his hands are tightening in your hair as he instinctively tilts his hips up again. he can’t stop himself.

you just hum again, lips working around him, tongue following his subtle movements, feeling every inch, every pulse. your hands grip his thighs to steady yourself, heart hammering, body trembling, and the gag hits in little jolts—but you swallow past it, determined to stay with him.

“oh… god… baby— you’re… fuck… i’m so fucked…” he groans, eyes half lidded, pupils wide, jaw slack, hips rocking into your mouth despite his attempts to stop.

each desperate, broken thrust, each ragged moan slipping past his lips makes you rub your thighs together, core throbbing. even as your throat protests, you hum again, breathing through your nose, letting him ride the pleasure you’re giving him.

he shudders violently, every thrust sloppy and desperate, hips jerking hard into your mouth. his cock stretches your throat, slick coating your lips and tongue, and every gasp and whine that rips past him makes your core clench, thighs twitching around nothing.

his fingers curl into your hair, tugging just enough to keep you in place, and his hips keep fucking up into you, unrelenting, sloppy, utterly wrecked. each pulse, each shallow, erratic thrust sends a jolt straight to your stomach, chest tightening with the burning heat pooling low between your thighs.

“fuuckk you take me so well.” he moans, guttural, the sound breaking over every thrust.

your lips glide along him, swallowing, tasting, taking every inch as he shudders harder, thighs trembling. his body quivers with need, breath hitching, jaw slack, chest heaving, utterly undone under your mouth.

he’s lost, trembling, every thrust hitting harder, jerking into your throat with no control, and the sounds—his broken, filthy moans, the way he whines your name—make your heat coil tighter, your hands gripping his thighs as your own body hums with the dizzying thrill of making him this undone.

his brows are furrowed so cutely, face pink, as he whines, “i- i can’t hold it anymore baby— oh— fuck!”

finally, with a broken cry, his hips stutter, cum spilling down your throat, the taste overwhelming. his body going rigid for a moment before collapsing into the couch.

he pulls back slightly, staring at you, panic flickering across his flushed face. “shit… baby… you—you didn’t have to— fuck— you didn’t have to swallow it…” his voice cracks, embarrassed and breathless, fingers fisting the couch cushions.

you slowly blink up at him, pulling off his cock with a pop, lips slick, cheeks flushed, jaw slightly aching.

you hum softly, shaking your head. “i wanted to.”

his head falls back against the couch, as if those words break him all over again, chest rising and falling as he tries to get his breathing under control.

a long moment passes—long enough that you worry you did something wrong—before he finally drags a hand down his face and lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“jesus…” he whispers, voice still wrecked. “if i didn’t know any better…” he swallows hard, eyes flicking back down to you, “…i’d never guess that was your first time doing that.”

your face goes hot instantly, heat blooming under your skin. you look away, pouting even though your lips are still swollen. “you’re teasing me.”

he gasps, scandalized.

“teasing you?” he repeats incredulous, eyebrows raised. “you think i’m joking?”

you shrug a little, flustered but not embarrassed in the same way as earlier. “i don’t know… maybe…”

“oh my god.” he drops his head back again with a dramatic groan. “baby, don’t you get it? i’ve never came this quickly. you know that.”

a beat passes before he breathily adds, “that was the best birthday gift i could’ve gotten.”

your stomach flips. you can’t help the small, pleased grin tugging at your mouth. “...really?”

“mhm…” he breathes. “now come here. i’m not letting you sit on your knees any longer.”

his hands slide to your waist, firm and sure, and he pulls you up like you weigh nothing—guiding you straight onto his lap. your breath stutters when you settle over him, still bare, his cock half hard again under you, heat radiating against your inner thighs as his fingers tighten on your hips.

he looks at you like he’s starving.

“now…” he breathes, leaning in, voice dropping into something hungry, “it’s my turn. birthday boy wants some more dessert.”

series masterlist | open taglist

i love him so much. happy birthday to my most favorite boy😣

[mimuju-deactivated20260521]

your familys not sure how to feel about olderbf!toji (smut) ☆

the air in your aunt’s living room was thick with the smell of pot roast and quiet judgment. toji stood beside you, a mountain of muscle in a simple black button-down that strained across his shoulders, his presence seeming to swallow the polite chatter whole. he’d been perfectly civil—a low grunt of greeting, a firm handshake that made your father blink—but his eyes held a lazy, predatory amusement as he surveyed the room.

you could hear the whispers threading through the clink of china.

“...must be what, forty? easy…”

“...practically robbing the cradle, susan, i mean look at him…”

“...older than mike, i swear…”

toji’s hand, resting possessively on the small of your back, gave a slight, deliberate squeeze. you glanced up and saw the corner of his mouth twitch. he’d heard every word.

dinner was a minefield of pointed questions. your uncle ron, who was indeed two years younger than toji, leaned forward. “so, toji. what is it you do, exactly?”

toji took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze steady. “this and that. security work. freelance.” his voice was a low rumble that somehow silenced the table. “body’s the tool. keeps me fit.”

the way he said it wasn’t a brag. it was a simple, brutal fact. a few aunts fanned themselves. later, as you were clearing dessert plates in the kitchen, you felt him crowd you against the counter, his front to your back, his breath hot on your ear.

“hear ‘em all talkin’, baby?” he murmured, his voice thick with smug satisfaction. “callin’ me old.”

“they don’t know anything,” you whispered, leaning back into his solid heat.

“oh, they know,” he chuckled, a dark, velvety sound. one of his big hands slid around your hip, palming you through your dress. 

“they see it. pisses ‘em off ‘cause they know i can do things those soft little uncles of yours only dream about.” his fingers dipped beneath the hem, finding you already wet for him, just from his proximity, from his arrogant, delicious confidence. “gonna show you when we get home just what this old man can do.”

he pressed a single, rough kiss to the side of your neck, a promise that made your knees weak, before sauntering back into the living room, leaving you breathless against the counter. the knowing, triumphant smirk he threw over his shoulder was for you alone.

the drive home was a thick, silent tension. his large hand rested high on your thigh, his thumb stroking idle, possessive circles that burned through the fabric of your dress. he didn’t speak. he just let the promise hang in the air between you, heavy and potent.

“toji…” you breathed out, the word barely a whisper.

“save it,” he rumbled, his eyes on the road but his focus entirely on the heat under his hand. “gonna hear plenty from you soon.”

the moment your apartment door clicked shut, the civility evaporated. he spun you, your back hitting the wall, his body caging you in. the smug amusement from earlier was gone, replaced by a raw, hungry intensity.

“all those whispers,” he growled, his mouth descending to your throat, biting just shy of pain. “all those looks. like i’m some fuckin’ predator who stole their sweet little girl.” his hands shoved the straps of your dress down, baring you to the cool air and his hotter gaze. “maybe they’re right.”

“ah—!” you gasped as his mouth found your breast, his tongue laving over your nipple before sucking hard.

he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom, not bothering with the lights. he tossed you onto the mattress, following you down in a fluid motion, his weight pinning you in the most perfect way.

“or maybe they're wrong. you like this, don’t you?” he rasped, yanking his own shirt open, buttons scattering. his calloused hands were everywhere, pulling, squeezing, claiming. “playin’ the good girl for them all day, lettin’ ‘em think you’re innocent. while you’re sittin’ there, soakin’ wet, thinkin’ about how this old mans gonna ruin you the second we’re alone.”

“y-yes,” you moaned, arching into his touch. “god, yes, please—”

he didn’t wait. he sheathed himself in you with one brutal, perfect thrust, knocking the air from your lungs in a choked cry. “fuhhhck—toji!”

he set a punishing pace immediately, each deep drive punctuated by his filthy, low voice in your ear.

“that’s it. they have no idea, do they?” he grunted, his hips snapping harder. “no idea their precious niece gets off on this. on bein’ fucked by a man who knows exactly how to take what he wants.” he drove into you, hitting a spot that made you see stars. “nngh! say it. tell me you love it.”

“i love it—ah! haah—i love it, i love you—” you babbled, nails scraping down his back.

a dark, satisfied groan ripped from his chest. “you love it. love knowin’ i’ve seen more, done more… that i can make you feel things those boys your age couldn’t even imagine.” his rhythm was relentless, the slap of skin filling the room. “c’mon, baby, sing for me. let me hear how much you love bein’ corrupted.”

tags - perm - @whorishminds @besidesjustmyamour @throatgoatgeto @go-go-gadget-autism @thecrazyfangirlthings @grignardsreagent @strawberryshortcakkitty @naammiii @liasacountgothacked @annicishana @my-starlights @error-racoon-404 @afreakforyautja @cupidstrace @iam-souless @sindulgent666 @chewiebee @tojisballhair @ex1acy @palanggaaa @yourlocalcatscammer @ehcilhc @gravecyte @restingoasis @satorupi @heliumshorns @laburantesdoll @misscounterfeit @thethyri @lostgeto @lilytrn @sweethearticism @mikaari0 @chososballhair @nanamissilkytie @iwasabs

[gojosconsort]

can u do smth silly where reader sneezes when gojo is inside of her and ofc she clenches hard on him and he like nuts immediately

mdni. you sneeze satoru into an orgasm.

satoru’s got you on your back, legs hooked over his hips, buried so deep you can feel him in your stomach. he’s moving slow—too slow, teasing, hips rolling in that perfect rhythm that keeps you right on the edge without letting you tip over.

“satoru, please,” you whine, nails digging into his shoulders. “stop playing.”

“but you’re so cute when you beg, baby.” he gives one deep thrust, grinding against that spot that makes your toes curl. “like that?”

you open your mouth to answer—then your nose tickles. “ah—” you try to hold it back, but it’s no use. a loud big sneeze rips out of you.

and oh god, the clench. the second your body convulses, your pussy clamps down hard around him. satoru’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open in a silent oh.

“f-fuck—” he chokes out. his hips stutter once, twice, and then he’s coming—hard, sudden, spilling into you with a broken groan. you feel every pulse, thick and hot, his cock twitching inside you as he rides it out, thighs shaking against yours.

he collapses forward, forehead pressed to your shoulder, panting like he just ran a marathon. “did you—did you just sneeze me into an orgasm?”

“i didn’t mean to! it just—happened!”

satoru lifts his head. “babe. don’t embarrass me like this. that’s the fastest i’ve ever come. ever.” he sounds almost offended. “god babe, i’m ruined. my reputation is in pieces.”

you giggle, clenching around him again on accident. he hisses, oversensitive. “stop—fuck—stop doing that.” his hands fly to your hips, fingers digging in hard, holding you completely still. “seriously, don’t move. i swear to god, if you clench one more time—”

you can’t help it. another accidental tiny pulse, and his whole body locks up, trying to suppress a moan. “you’re trying to kill me, or what? i’m gonna start wearing a condom just to survive the flu season.” but he’s grinning, pressing lazy kisses to your collarbone. “now come here—round two. i need to return the favor.”

[aronkiepronkie]

high as fuck and im horny for nerdjo

youre sat behind him on his stupid digimon sheets, your arms wrapping around his small waist. satoru's leaning back onto you, hands hooked under your spread knees he's between, squeezing your leg occasionally as he pants and whimpers as you angrily fist his cock.

"fffuck- fuck, oh please baby.." he drags out a curse, yelping out desperately when your hand unwraps from his angry, throbbing cock so abruptly. his tip has gone red from your relentless rubbing, balls tight and ready to burst.

you laugh mockingly at his crying, your fist hitting right onto his lower abdomen, ripping out a gasp and a high pitched moan from him, his cock throbs at the delicious pain blooming through his milky pale skin, turning red.

"fuck toru, yr'such a slut." you mock him and he whimpers, bucking his hips into the air. he sniffles, shivering at the mean sting of your nails dragging down to the base of his cock from his belly.

"pleasepleaseplease baby, please let me cum," satoru begs, mind hazed with desperation, his big ol glasses fogging up and slipping down his flushed face, not bothered enough to fix them. all hes thinking about is cumming.

you tap a teasing finger on his weeping tip, making him let out a short whine, breath heaving slightly as you rub his precum all over his tip.

"please let me cum—" he sobs out, slouching back against you. his back arches when you wrap your palm around his hypersensitive tip, squeezing repeatedly and ripping out a broken yelp from sensitive little toru. wet squelches emit from his wet cock as you start to jerk it quickly.

satorus moans get high, sobs leaving his heaving body as he gets closer to that edge, a sliver of hope coursing through him when you dont immediately pull away when he cries out, "fuckfuckfuck-uuhhn im gonna cumm!".

you know him so so well, your hand leaving his aching, crying cock at just the perfect time, making satoru genuinely cry out, your fist meeting his abdomen once again. satorus whole body flinches, a whine leaving him at the pain.

he cranes his neck to face you, buring his soaked face into the curve of your shoulder, thick glasses bumping awkwardly, his hot tears dripping onto your skin, making you laugh cruelly. his cock throbs pathetically at the sound.

"please! please let me cum—ohmygod-i need to cum please!" he sobs against you, all shame thrown out the window, successfully ruining your little nerd.

"you wanna cum?" you call out to him, your voice directly into his ear, making him whimper quietly as his cock jerks. "ye-yesyes please," he begs.

he lets out a cry as your hand connects to the base of his dick, hips bucking. you slooowly work your way up to his tip, a long, low whimper escaping satoru.

you start to jerk him off at a slow pace, your hands so gentle against his crazy sensitive cock, such a drastic difference from your rough squeezing before. the contrast of your touches only eggs him on further.

"yesyesyes-please i-im gonna cum—fuck im gonna cum! please!" satoru cries out, tears falling behind his glasses at the increasing pleasure as his hips buck into your gentle movements.

his cock throbs furiously in your palm, thick cum spurting out his red cock in large amounts, dripping down your fingers and down to his thighs, loud whines and little wails coming from his writhing body as he finally, finally gets to cum all over your hand.

"ohmyfuckinggod." satoru manages to whisper out, his eyes fluttering under his slipping lenses. you can't help but giggle at his weakening posture against you.

he pants against you, his cock softening in your grip as you slowly retreat your hand, rubbing his lean stomach comfortably.

"tired?" you question him with a smile, and he huffs. "exhausted. can we sleep?" he mumbles, drained from his intense orgasm.

"sleep baby." you whisper to him, and he obeys immediately.

[nobodys-s0n]

‎✧˚₊‧ gojo putting you in a nasty headlock during sex !

he has you on your stomach, babbling incoherently about his cock, how good it feels, the usual for him. his thrusts are sloppy as his balls slap against your clit, your walls so easily letting him slide in and out with no issue.

his hands were placed on each side of the mattress right by your head, your fingers digging deep into the thickness of his forearms as your back arched upwards, ass meeting his every thrust.

“a-ah! ‘t-toruuuu!” you slur out, face stuffed with tears, cheeks reddening and your right hand shamelessly running up and down the finer muscles of his arm. his bicep was huge, his tricep prominent. he’s so big, it fed your size kink like no other.

gojo smiled watching you feel his muscle, and with no warning at all, he reaches down with his right arm. wrapping his arm around your neck, his bicep muscle going right under your chin and his forearm flexing upwards; gojo puts you in a headlock, right when his cock touches your cervix in this angle.

the moan you let out? pornographic.

right when he flexes a tiny bit, watching you choke on your own spit as his hand places itself in your hair.

“oh? you like that hun?” he murmurs, his tone cocky and all knowing, like it always is. “you like it when i fuck this pussy? you like my muscles?” he asks you.

you nod your head as best as you can considering you had this bastard’s arm tightly secured around your neck, breathless times two because of his cock thrusting so damn fast into your sobbing pussy. “y-yes! ah! god! fuck! love it, satoru! f-fucking love it!”

he pats your hair, twirling one piece of it over his pointer as his other hand pressed into the mattress. “there you go… just keep taking it like the good cock slut you are and we’ll have no issue.”

and when you feel this good with his cock in your cunt and the headlock he has you in? of course you listened to the man.

click here for main masterlist!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i’m obsessed with him ur honor! big muscle! gojo satoru for the win, this mf would be ripped, i don’t care.

thank you for all the support in every way possible! all support is very much appreciated! all content created on this blog is mine, do not copy or sent it through ai!

created by... nobodys-s0n! ™

[aomiiine-deactivated20260202]

age gap (20-30’s), manhandling, a lil bit of anal, overstim, oral, client fem!reader, post re4

bodyguard! leon s. kennedy who was reluctant yet relieved when he heard his next mission was a protection focused—not rescue. Relieved because it wasn’t heavy, reluctant because it was yet another young woman from a prestigious family. Regardless, he convinced himself to preserver and push through. It was just another time limited bodyguard job, after all. Unrelated to bioweapons.

bodyguard! leon s. kennedy who could barely keep his eyes lined to a modest degree when he first met you. Gloved hands clenched by his side and giving you a hard stare—at least that was what you saw. In reality, it was just his gaze raking through your figure and schooling his expression to poker face. The face of the stern man he naturally showed before, just forced. As stunning as you were, you were young. Much too young for someone like him. The thing is, the age gap didn’t seem to bother you with how bold you were with your advances.

bodyguard! leon s. kennedy who found himself to be a natural at the job that annoyed him most, protection. Somehow he found himself doing it without having to remind himself every 10 minutes. Every move you took, the location and time, he kept track of you smoothly. Checking up on you was routine, even finding himself comfortable enough to stay in a room with you, taking mental notes of every habit and detail of you in your daily life. ‘A fucking princess’, he thought. A very pretty, sexy one, that squeaks at every time he closes the distance between you two, or even when he catches you staring at his muscles when he takes off his jacket. ‘Tsk, adorable little thing.’

bodyguard! leon s. kennedy who followed you to one of the large office buildings your daddy owns and his office since you were supposedly called to be there. ‘Pretty girl doesn’t realise I know her father’s schedule,’ he purred internally, tapping a finger on his bicep with his arms crossed. He was undeniably pleased, and gladly following along with your antics.

bodyguard! leon s. kennedy who has you laying flat on your father’s desk table merely minutes after entering to spacious, silent office. Now he’s just on his knees, head buried between your thighs and legs hung over his shoulder. Your moans mingled with the lewd slurps and squelches his tongue made making out with your wet pussy. He’d keep you to that same position til your nth orgasm, til his face was dripping with sprays of your sweet nectar that he failed to catch on his tongue whenever you squirted. And he gave your swollen folds deserving slaps for that, growling lowly against your soft skin of your inner thigh between his love bites to scold you for cumming without permission.

bodyguard! leon s. kennedy who rise back to his feet and wipe his lower face with the back of his hand, hips grinding onto you, making sure you felt how hard you made him with all those moans and high-pitched cries for his name. He would keep your trembling legs hung over his shoulders, hugging them with an arm while his other hand made quick work to unzip his fly and push his pants down just enough to take out his cock already slick with precum. With the same hand, he’d pump his cock a few times before aligning the tip to your damp folds, sensitive from him devouring you earlier. Pushing forward, he’d notch the broad tip past your entrance before slamming his hips in one swift thrust, burying himself to the hilt. He couldn’t miss the way your back arched when he did so, no doubt overwhelmed with the onslaught pleasure

bodyguard! leon s. kennedy who’d start fucking you in a impatient pace, his initial effort to go slow and steady failing miserably when your tight channel tightened around him with each thrust that only grew more unforgiving with the second. ‘Absolutely perfect, fuck. Your face’s so beautiful like this, baby— fucked out on my dick, yeah?’ His free hand would occasionally roam your body, reaching out to your chest to find your breast spilling from your bra, fingers slipping beneath the restrictions to grab the soft mound and give it eager squeezes while ramming your squelching pussy with his single-minded goal to chase your orgasm and his own. He’d withdraw that same hand on your tit to find the globe of your ass, digging his fingers deep into soft flesh enough to leave crescent shaped marks whenever he shifts his hold.

bodyguard! leon s. kennedy who’d move his thumb delve past between the cleft of your ass to circle the puckered hole right beneath your stretched out pussy, the unfamiliar contact making you thrash in panic, babbling pleas for him to leave that part alone, spilling barely coherent mumbles saying you’ve never been touched there. Yet your cries only surged him on, making more determined for him to give you your first experience. He coo praises at you between his heavy pants, assuring you that you’re doing so well and that it’d feel good, coaxing you to relax and getting you to trust him with locked gazes and few nods.

bodyguard! leon s. kennedy whose thrusts became shallow and eager when he feels the tell tales of his orgasm, balls tightening with the familiar tingle up his spine, his hold on your legs tightening to pull you impossibly closer to him. Only then did he finally push his digit past the tight rim of your untouched hole, making you squirm and writhe beneath him. He’d slam his hips into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt, distracting you from the unfamiliar intrusion with the feeling of his cock throbbing uncontrollably around the spasming walls of your cunt, inches away from your own orgasm. You’d reach out to his muscular forearms hugging your legs to hold onto him, nails clawing on his skin to ground yourself for your incoming climax. And when you both finally reach ecstasy, the lewd symphony of your shared cries filled the vacant office along with the erotic splats of his thick semen oozing from your filled cunt falling to the floor. His body collapses onto yours, your father’s previously organised desk now a makeshift bed for sweat sheened tangled limbs of you and your beloved bodyguard with no one but the scattered documents as your witness.

a/n. first time writing for resident evil/leon, im sorry for the ooc-ness💔💔 also tumblr ate my initially written ending so this one’s a bit wonky sorruy

[pillsatoru]

real man ⟢ nerdjo x reader

"... did you know that a quasar emits more energy in a second than our sun will in its entire lifetime?"

"uh... sure?"

༄.° pairing . nerd! gojo x popular! reader (f)

⤷ summary . a low grade lands you a tutor session with the nerdiest boy at your university with the help of the best wingman, your professor, who knows that gojo is your only way of improving that 59.6% in your physics class. your annoyance soon turns into admiration and maybe something else as you find yourself enjoying the late night study sessions.

warning ⓘ tags . (18+), porn with plot me thinks, smut, gojo will give you second hand embarrassment bless his soul, protected sex that will lead to unprotected, masturbation, praise kink, oral, p in v, cream pie. sub gojo heh. jealous gojo. perv gojo. obsessive gojo.

⤷ wc . 4k (not proofread)

a/n . this is a repost from my old blog !

waking up to an email sent by your physics professor was not the best way to start off the day.

"you've got to be kidding me.." you grumbled, with your morning voice attempting to read the title of the email as your blurry eyes adjusted to the bright screen of your phone. you weren't surprised when the subject was that you are being assigned a tutor. you were aware of your current grade, but you swore you would be able to raise it up. right after partying.

your roommate, and long term friend, peaks over your shoulder as she buttoned up her pants. "yikes, I'm surprised he hasn't admitted you to a tutor earlier, haven't you had the same grade for a while now?"

you sighed knowing she was right. your grade hasn't gone up even a percentage for the past two weeks.

'meet me in class before it begins today, perhaps 10 minutes before, ill be introducing you to your tutor and we'll discuss how things will work.'

and that's how you found yourself standing in front of your teachers desk awkwardly. "he'll be here soon, he's very punctual."

you nodded in acknowledgment. you wanted to play it safe and come a few minutes earlier than the given time written on the email. '10 minutes before class'. the said class begins at 9:40. it is currently 9:28.

he was punctual alright. the moment it struck the half hour, the door swung open to reveal a tall boy- no, a really tall boy. he had white hair and blinding blue eyes behind dorky glasses. despite his nerdy look, the boy had a few facial piercings. one on his eyebrow and his lip.

that's hot.

"satoru! come in, come" your professor gestured the boy to be next to you. satoru offered a small, shy wave, which you responded with a warm smile.

"so as we all know, y/n isn't doing so well in this class." you cringed feeling your face heat up. being exposed in front of someone as smart as satoru was the ultimate humiliation.

"here's what's going to happen. there is an upcoming review test before the final. you pass that and im 99.9 percent sure that you will pass the final with enough studying. I'll leave satoru to decide how the tutoring will work, but I expect you both to meet up at least four times a week."

four times a week? four times? a week. great.

session 1.

you dragged your body into the library with your tote bag full of textbooks and practice worksheets. the library was fairly crowded with students studying for upcoming exams. you being one of them.

making your way deeper into the study area, your eyes landed on gojo who was setting up the table with his headphones plugged in. you approached him but he didn't notice you.

"satoru..?"

no answer. he was in a completely different world with the way he was humming a tune which only brought you to your last resort.

you poked his shoulder lightly which caused him to jump a little, looking over his shoulder to meet eyes with you.

"oh! hi uhm im sorry..! I didn't notice you I was just uh setting up the table. is this place okay with you? we can always pick somewhere else if your uncomfortable with being way too-"

"no no its fine with me." you interrupted his babbling which you found endearing.

"right." he chuckled before sitting down which you followed.

"alright so what exactly are you struggling with?" he asked.

what are you struggling with? "everything" you answered honestly looking at the organized textbooks- all related to physics and.. digimon?

"so.. we can start off with the basics of fundamentals of motion. such as speed and distance and maybe add in some kinematic equations. you are familiar with newtons law, right?"

you nodded as you recalled to the only thing you remembered from this god awful class.

"okay so we can skip that.. but ill still explain a little bit of it towards the end, just to make sure."

that's how you spent your first session with the boy. he's amazing at explaining, learning more from him than any past lectures. the way he is so into it you can't help but space out at the way his lips move.

"for the equations, there are a few of them, ill give you three examples then write one of each so you can practice."

your eyes fixated at the way he neatly wrote down the letters.

"so uhm.. do I multiply or-"

"you subtract this from both sides."

"got it."

this was definitely going to take a while if you couldn't even handle the basics. you handed him back the sheet where you attempted the problems.

"seems like you have a bit of difficulty deriving the equations."

you sighed. how long has it been? forty minutes? and hour?

checking your phone you were surprised to see that only 15 minutes have passed?

'just kill me at this point' you thought.

"hey hey, no phones. can't have you getting distracted, hand it over"

"I was just checking the time! don't take it away pleaseee" you begged.

"you'll be tempted to check the time every five seconds, just hand it over." you reluctantly placed it in his hand. his fingers brushed against yours and you were surprised to see how soft his were.

"lets try again. this time ill watch you solve them so I can see where you start to go wrong."

2 hours have gone by and you finally grasped how to solve the equations involving motion and acceleration.

"good job!" the praise boosted up your confidence. "only took ya thirty practice problems but you got there." he teased as he adjusted his glasses. "thanks satoru." you rolled your eyes at him.

the way you said his name went straight into his head. both of them actually.

"we should wrap it up for today"

he reached into his bag pulling out a few sheets before sliding them to you. "try and finish these by wednesday, which will be our next session. oh-" the pale boy reached for his examples. "use these for reference if you forget again."

accepting the papers, you placed them in your folder before tucking it back into your bag. "thank you, I know i'm not the easiest to teach."

"non sense. you're the first person i've tutored to actually have motivation to learn."

"you've tutored others?" you tilted your head.

"course I have. anyways, study what we've gone over today. here's my phone number-"

"youre going to have to give me back my phone in order for that" you chuckled. it felt like satorus world paused for a second as he saw your smile.

"uh right.. sorry"

it felt great to have your beautiful cellular device in the comfort of your hands.

"I usually ignore my messages.. can I give you my instagram instead?" you asked.

satoru was a bit disappointed to not be able to have your phone number, but your insta was just as good. that way he'd be able to see pictures of you.

you both exchanged users, you with your whopping 2.3k followers and him with his 40. 41 including you.

he noticed that out of the 2.3k people that follow you, you only follow around 90. he felt honored that he would be one of the lucky ones to be blessed with your follow.

"great!" satoru couldn't help the dorky grin that crept up on his face. "text me if you have any issues with the work, mkay?"

multiple sessions have passed.

you felt yourself warm up with the boy, learning more about him and his nerdy interests and the upcoming 'name as many digimon characters as you can' contest that he's pumped for explained the character book you'd see every time you met up at the library.

which you both eventually ditched after accidentally catching a couple doing... activities one shouldn't be doing in a quiet environment.

satoru couldn't help but wish that was you and him.

you both settled for a nearby cafe where he always paid for your drinks and sugary treat which he's memorized by now.

"we should go over the vocabulary today" his fingers skimmed through several papers before pulling one out that had the key to all the words you had to remember.

you were progressing and you felt confident for the review and final which were both in three months.

"here write down the words on a separate sheet and try to answer them to see which you know and which you don't."

outside of your tutor sessions, you began saying hi to each other in the hallways, exchanging small smiles in class, and late night texts.

satoru [ 10: 37 PM]

-you complete the worksheets?

you [ 10: 40 PM]

-hi! I just need to finish up the last one then im all done

satoru [ 10: 41 PM]

-thats good, mind sending me what you've done?

you [ 10 : 45 PM]

[image attached]

-im actually at a party right now..

that led to a scolding from him the next day. he couldn't care less actually no matter how many times he said to restrain yourself from partying for now because of your studies. in reality, he just didn't want any boy to see you wearing whatever revealing outfit you decided to put on.

satoru would be lying that he wouldn't feel the way his inexperienced cock would harden whenever he would see the way your skirt would ride up your thighs as you sat so prettily in front of him.

you were completely unaware of how much you affected the poor boy.

"so how'd the contest go?"

"I won obviously. named all 1400 of em." he put his hands up in victory.

you laughed at how cute you found it. him being proud over beating a bunch of kids?

"what was the prize?"

"a limited edition card. super rare by the way, you have like one in a thousand chance of getting it. here! I have it on me actually."

he pulled out a card that resembled Pokemon cards which he would get annoyed when you got the two of them mixed up.

"this is the ghost bt1 diamond. you can pick one out of any Digimon of your opponent or you can delete all the Digimon if they share a name with it."

his eyes lit up whenever he talked about his interests. and you loved that about him.

"sounds cool, how much is it worth?"

"hmm I think like 300 at most."

"yeah well I remember my brother has a Pokemon card that's worth 78 grand."

"do your damn work."

as you prepared to leave, he stopped you.

"here."

he handed you the digimon card making your eyes widen.

"you're giving it to me?"

"mhm, just remembered I already have a similar card that does the exact same as this one. no need for me to have it. besides I think it would look great on your phone case."

now, whenever he takes away your phone for your study time, he can't help but smile when he looked at the card neatly placed inside the clear case with a few stickers around it.

he’d find himself late at night in the comfort of his own dorm, with his hand hesitantly palming his growing bulge at the sight of your story. the picture was of you smiling cutely at the cafe you both went at. a picture he took.

you looked gorgeous. you are gorgeous.

he doesn't remember the last time he's jerked off. maybe once in high school when his favorite cosplayer dressed up as a beloved female character of his?

pulling out his needy length, he imagined it was you. a finger grazed upon his tip smearing the pre-cum a bit as he let out a few whimpers. would you hate him if you saw him like this? all horny and pent up because of your post? or would you help him?

no matter how much he stroked himself, he just couldn't finish. he needed you.

his eyes skimmed through various websites to help his situation out.

‘how to have the best orgasm in your life’

‘best stroking methods’

‘how the female anatomy works and how to pleasure it’

‘man finishes threehu-‘

wait what was that? he scrolls back up a bit clicking on the female anatomy one. he was met with several images. diagrams showing where the most pleasurable part was for a woman.

gojo hasn’t done this much studying since his calculus exam back in elementary. who the hell let’s a seven year old solve that shit?!

by the end of the day, his brain is now stuffed with knowledge on how to pleasure you. still zero clue on how he’s ever going to bust.

2 days.

2 days until you review test and you were.. stressed to say the least. thankfully you have gone over everything from the semester and gojo made sure that you were well prepared even offering to make you a cheat sheet, allowed by the professor, to help you out during the test just in case.

"toru."

fuck. when did you begin calling him that nickname? it made gojo feel lightheaded to the point where he had to grip the end of his chair as you approached him.

"hey I was wondering if we could study at my place tonight?" you asked sweetly.

“your place..? like, where you live?”

“I hope so?” you giggled.

“y-yeah i guess but why?”

you took a seat next to him placing your bag next to your feet on the floor.

“walked past the cafe and saw that it was closed due to some renovations”

“god i hope it’s the bathroom sink. that thing sprayed me”

you both laugh at the memory of him coming out the bathroom with his hair sticking to his forehead and clothes dampened. that was the first time you’ve seen him without his glasses.

you preferred him with them on.

but you couldn’t deny that either way he still looked so handsome especially when he rolled up his now wet sleeves of his black sweater revealing veins that adorned his arms.

“I hope so. anyways I’ll text you the address later.. or actually, we can walk together if you’d like?” you offered and who was he to decline?

“sure sweetheart.”

gojo recently picked up the habit of calling you sweet names which never failed in making your stomach leap in happiness. where’s he get the sudden habit?

‘how to fluster a girl.com’

god knows where.

your house wasn’t far from the campus since you’ve been planning on attending this university ever since you were a kid due to living 20 minutes away at a walking distance.

“my parents are away at a trip so we’ll have the house to ourselves”

fuck yeah.

“they doing a business trip or..?”

“it’s their anniversary. they flew out to france and didn’t even bother inviting me” you rolled your eyes playfully making the pierced boy laugh. he recently switched out his lip piercing after his last one fell off while drinking his coffee.

he took in your house as you arrived. looking at the memories plastered on the walls. this is where you grew up..

“want anything eat?”

you.

he shook his head. “I’m alright, I ate something not long ago.” you hummed while walking upstairs, him trailing behind just to get a glimpse up your skirt seeing the pink laced panties that made him let out a low groan. his pants were uncomfortable by the time you reached your room. it was a warm environment, posters on the walls, stuffed animals on the bed. the bed he would love to fuck you in.

“s’cute” he complimented placing his bag down before he stretched out his lanky body on your bed.

his sweater slipped up a bit revealing his v line as well as his white happy trail. your breath hitched as your eyes trailed down the patch of hair before landing on the raging boner that he had. no way.

was he hard?

despite having past experience yourself, no one has ever made you finish.

gojo propped himself on both his arms. “let’s just review what I taught you at the beginning first to freshen up your memory.” you barely took in anything he said as you approached the bed as well sitting down next to him before you felt bold. you shifted sitting down on his lap instead.

satoru let out a gasp before moaning. his hands found your hips immediately. “fuck.. what are you-“ he was cut off by your subtle grinding.

“we shouldn’t..” your heart sank a bit. “you don’t want this..? I’m just trying to help you toru.”

“I know baby but I haven’t.. well I’m.. I’ve never done t-this before, god..” he mumbled embarrassed. oh so that’s what this is. he’s a virgin. “I don’t mind.. let me help you”

“please-“

“shh..” you tugged at his jeans bringing down to his knees. “You’ve never done this before?” you asked letting your acrylics tease him through his digimon boxers.

“no.. no please fuck..”

his cute whimpers went straight to your heat as you finally tugged down his boxers only to be met with the biggest cock you’ve seen. it slapped his stomach the second it was released. he was thick. the pretty pink tip was slowly turning an angry red color as he panted.

you wrapped your hand around him stroking up and down his base watching him twitch. while keeping eye contact, you let some spit fall down his cock making him moan as you used your drool as lube. his hips bucked up as he felt the warmth of your mouth around him.

“t-that’s it..”

for the first time, your lips met in a sweet and needy kiss, your hand still working wonders on him. he placed a shaking hand on your ass cupping it making sure not to break the heated kiss.

“can.. can you ride me?” the way he asked shyly made you want to ruin him even more. you nodded watching him pull off his sweater. now by all means you had zero clue that this man was built as if god made him with his own hands. you did the same, quickly undressing before he stopped you.

“please.. please keep the panties on”

“you like em?”

“fucking love them.”

after carefully placing a condom you found in your drawer on him, you guided his tip to grind just right against you. “lift up your hips a bit toru.. just move them.. back.. and forth.. good job love”

the praise didn’t help Gojos situation at all. “keep praising me..” at this point his glasses were all fogged up. your finger hooked into your panties slipping them to the side so you could slip his cock in.

“so big..” you cood

“oh god, you’re right.. fuckkk baby wait.. wait wait” he moaned filling up the room with lewd noises. the plap, plap, plap echoed. large hands found your waist helping you ride him at a quick pace.

“shit.. you’re better than I imagined.” he groaned out biting your neck sweetly. “you’ve imagined.. this? ngh!” you were surprised to see him pick up the pace. “all the time.”

gojo thought back to the website he visited frequently. his finger found your clit circling it before rubbing it repeatedly. you head fell on his shoulder as you began to shake from overstimulation. “Toru..!”

“this is where you’re weak, right? most girls have an orgasm immediately after teasing the clit”

“ngh.. nerd..!”

“so sensitive”

the raspiness in his voice was enough to make you finish. for the first time ever. gojos hips stuttered as he pulled out watching your juices spill out. he brought his fingers to his mouth tasting you. “you taste good babe”

panting, you removed the condom from his still hard length before slipping him back in.

he wasn’t even half way in before ropes of cum went inside you making gojo close his eyes letting tears of being overstimulated fall down his pretty flushed cheeks.

“be my girl..”

four things happened that day.

you came for the first time

you took away gojos virginity

you were both now dating

you didn’t study at all

but the cheat sheet did help you out a bit. after finishing up the last question, gojo walked over to the teachers desk placing it on top of it. he was the first one out of everyone to finish, like always. he looked up to where you were seated.

there you were, more focused than ever biting your nail as you answered the equations as if it was muscle memory. he was proud, smiling to himself before leaving the classroom.

toru ! [ 7: 45 AM ]

-results are in today 👀

you [ 7:46 AM]

-im nervous… i think i failed it bro im so scared toru

toru ! [ 7: 48 AM]

-I doubt that sweetheart

and he was right because the second you received back your paper with a beautiful 92% written on top of it you felt like you were in heaven. you ran towards gojo wrapping your arms around him excitedly.

“I did it! look!” you showed him your paper.

“told you. good job am proud of ya” he grinned as he once again felt his cock throb at the way you were squeezing him. “what’d you get?”

“100%”

“show off.”

he barked out a laugh before placing his hands on your hips. “we should celebrate.” he suggested. “with cake?” he hummed tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before letting his thumb rub on your cheek affectionately. “sure pretty.”

[pillsatoru]

the concept of this being my first full fic ever

[yahinata]

miss him

[sugarplumpearl]

Bound To Me

𓇬 Caleb x Yandere!reader 𓇬

Word count: +6k

Warnings: +18(mdni), dark content, Yandere!reader, abandonment issues, suicidal ideations, depression, mentally unstable reader, talks of hospitalization, sedatives, medication use, mental health talk, possessive!caleb, manipulative!caleb, blowjob, girl on top, p n v, unprotected sex, drugging, titty worship, bondage/restraints, freaky!Caleb, breeding kink, Caleb refers to reader as mommy/honey/pips/pipsqeak, let me know if I missed anything!

It was no surprise how unstable you became after losing Caleb.

The man came into your life at an early age. Though he was only a few months older than you, he was remarkably mature and played a large part in raising you. When your foster parents weren’t around, he made sure to keep you fed, his food filling your belly to the point of happiness.

At school, he made sure none of the kids ever bullied you. He could smell their hidden intentions from a mile away. Their smiles were forced and their words were fluffed-up lies, he understood they were trying to come between you, but he’d never let that happen. Because your world revolved around him, you were unaware of the dangers he kept at bay. For the men he caught keeping at you, they’d return to school the next day with a broken limb, their reasons all the same, “They got hurt at basketball practice”.

After college and with different career paths, the distance that grew between you wasn’t that noticeable as the end of the day ended with you two tucked away behind the closed doors of your home. If only you had noticed the change. When around you, he put on a brave face, shielding you from the bad things happening behind the scenes.

Had you known what was about to happen, you never would have gone to the convenience store without him. Hell, you wouldn’t have left him alone on that fateful day. You cried yourself to sleep most nights, wishing you had turned to ash alongside him.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed from the day he “passed” to when he stood at your doorstep.

Those days were ones you weren’t proud of. You had tried a multitude of things; overworking, drinking, clubbing, smoking, and yet, nothing was able to ease the pain of his passing. You had become a shell of yourself, a living carcass simply working on autopilot. You went through your days, merely existing, never truly living.

It got to the point where you wished to end it all which ended with you being checked into a hospital for a few days, under constant monitoring. You were forced into therapy and a psychiatrist was appointed to you, who tried their best to find a cocktail of pills that would keep you sane. Though one was to be taken at night as it made you sleepy, only a sedative was able to get the job done.

Then came the day he randomly showed up at your doorstep. What kind of sick joke was this? You remember shutting the door in his face, freaking out as you thought you were seeing a ghost. Had you really become so desperate that you were now hallucinating him into your daily life?

The second set of knocks dragged you back to reality. Your name was called, muffled by the wooden door. Now more than ever, you wish your door had a peephole. Anyone would be able to see the reluctance in your moves, the shakiness of your hand as you twisted the doorknob.

You barely opened the door, peeking through the small crack.

There stood Caleb with a stoic expression. The uniform he wore was made of expensive materials and the long coat looked heavy as the gold shoulder ornament added unnecessary weight. The hat held between his arm and torso had a leaf-shaped emblem in the middle, unknown to you.

Was it really him?

Without a second thought, your hand reached out, a gasp coming from you as your palm rested against his chest. He was warm, whether from the blood running through his veins or the sunlight, he was very much alive.

You had been left believing he had died on the day of the explosion. Though there was no body to be buried, you had come to terms with the fact that the flames had burned his flesh off and turned his bones to dust.

Yet, there he stood. Living and breathing.

You couldn’t contain your cries, face turning red as you shouted at him, fists smacking into his chest. He allowed you to do as you pleased, taking each hit without so much as a flinch. Once he noticed you were tiring yourself out, he took you into his arms.

The house you two shared had remained the same. Except for the layer of dust that clung to almost everything. The only place that seemed lived in was your room. Even with the curtains shut tightly, he was able to make out the piles of clothes on the floor and the messy bed.

He never should have left you, but it was necessary. The enemy was closing in on you and he had to draw them away to deal with them without you getting caught in the crossfire. Though he had to leave you behind, it didn’t mean he didn’t regret it. The very sight of you had his heart shattering. Broken and defeated, you clung to him. Afraid that if you were to let go, he’d vanish once again.

That night, he made sure you went to bed freshly bathed with a full tummy. He had managed to clean up the house while you slept before tucking himself beside you. The first time in a while, you didn’t wake up throughout the night. The familiar weight of him beside you was enough to ease you, even when you were fast asleep.

It felt as though he could breathe once more. He knew he would have a lot to make up for after he explained the reason for his absence but you’d forgive him nevertheless. Only then, would he be able to confess his true feelings for you. He’d spend the rest of his life with you not only beside him, but under him as well.

-

He’s been too distant as of late.

You thought back to the day at the market.

Busy picking out a few Honeycrisp apples for the pie you planned to make to go along with dinner, you smiled at Caleb as you made your way over to him. He stood off to the side with the cart, speaking into his phone. As you grew closer, he perked up at the sight of you, signaling he would return once he was done with the phone call.

Who was he talking to?

He never had a problem taking phone calls in front of you, why the sudden change?

“What was that about?” You questioned gently as he returned.

“Boring work stuff. Nothing to concern yourself with, pips.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands settling on your waist. He couldn’t possibly think you would believe that. “Have you got everything you need?”

You refused to give him a reason to pull away from you. For now, you’d have to play the role of an oblivious girlfriend.

Another thing that had sirens going off in your head was when he started being cautious with you going into his at-home office.

He never had an issue before. In fact, he would normally make room for you to sit in his lap, a lazy smirk forming on his face. The soft caresses he gave your arm as you sat with him would soon turn to rough thrusts and hurried kisses.

Now, he would hastily hide documents when he heard you walking towards his office, locking them away in one of the drawers before pretending to click away at his monitor. He would always try to redirect your attention, motioning for the two of you to move into a different room.

“What are you working on these days? You don’t let me watch you work anymore.”

“Ah, nothing interesting. Just a couple of documents explaining some updates they’ve been trying to get approved for the fleet.” His hand came to lay on your nape, fingers digging into the warm flesh in a comforting manner. “What should I make for dinner?”

Of course, your mind wandered with a hundred thoughts per minute, a constant spiral of never-ending ideas. Your head would hurt at some point. That pulsating feeling that made your eyes feel as if they would pop out of your head any second. The skin on the side of your thumbnail had been picked and bitten, the flesh raw and tender to the touch.

It didn’t matter.

You’d deal with that later.

Instead, you needed to find a way to make him stay.

The thought of having to endure the familiar void from before was driving you up the wall. You knew you wouldn’t survive him leaving you again. You had gotten him back, created new memories that would mean nothing with him gone.

Could it be that he had been lying to you? Did he even mean the words that came out of his mouth? All the times you had given yourself to him, pushing past your insecurities and degrading inner thoughts to experience the sensation of his sweaty skin against yours, was it a mistake on your part?

Maybe the voice inside your head was right. You were a fool. A lovesick fool who couldn’t function without Caleb.

You needed to act fast. Wracking your brain, you tried to come up with a plan. How could you get him to stay? How could you get him to share what he’s been doing behind your back?

There was no way you’d be able to stop him from walking out the door. He was physically imposing, dense muscle cloaked in freckled skin. He could easily push you off to the side if you tried clinging to him.

You wouldn’t even be able to get him while he slept. He was too much of a light sleeper to even try anything. Any movement from you would have him stirring, searching for any dangers.

Something in your mind clicked. You still had some of your sleeping pills tucked away in the bathroom cabinet. Your best choice was to sedate him. The instructions said to take one pill per night. Surely the dosage for Caleb would be different due to his size.

Obviously, he wouldn’t willingly take the pills. You’d have to sneak them in somehow.

It took a couple of days before you set your plan into motion. You were in charge of dinner tonight. If you didn’t act now, you were sure your nerves would prevent you from following through.

You cooked dinner the way you normally would. When your phone rang, signaling someone was at your front door, you poured the crushed pills into the sauce you’d be drizzling onto the piece of steak. You weren’t a fan of that dressing so it wouldn’t raise any suspicion when you didn’t use any of it and Caleb was more than happy to drench his food with it.

You calmly brought out the dishes over to the dinner table, giggling when Caleb wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the side of your neck.

“You made it just in time. Go wash your hands. I’ll wait for you.”

His shifting about throughout the house could be heard from your seat. You would be betraying the trust he had in you, but the voice in your head eased your worries, stating it was his fault you were in this predicament to begin with. If only he hadn’t gone and raised your suspicions, this dinner would have had a much different ending.

Just as you had predicted, Caleb doused his dinner in the sauce. It took a while for its effects to show. His stubbornness was commendable.

The grip on his fork slackened, the metal clinking against the plate and pulling your attention away from your own. Time to play your part as the clueless girlfriend.

“Caleb, what’s wrong? Do you not like it?”

He tried to stand from his seat but his figure swayed, his hands lying flat against the table as a way to hold himself up. His limbs felt like jelly and his joints seemed to give up from the weight. Falling to his knees, he turned to look at you when she kneeled beside him.

“What’s wrong! What do you feel?”

He managed to lie on his back, your worried expression being the last thing he saw as his eyes closed and he felt the effects of the medication overtake him.

-

Slowly drifting out of a sedative-induced sleep with his head feeling as though it was filled with lead, Caleb’s eyelashes fluttered as he gradually came to. His breathing picked up as did his heart rate. With the fuzziness in his vision dissipating, he focused on the ceiling he had come to recognize as the one in your room. The curtains were pulled shut which left him unable to tell what time of the day it was. Who knows how much time had passed?

He couldn’t remember how he ended up here, his last memory being of you watching him with that same nervous look you always wore when you were hiding something from him.

He knew he wasn’t alone, a sniffle from somewhere in the room confirming the notion. That sound was known to him all too well. Hesitantly, he turned in the direction of the sound.

Wrapped in a flowery blanket he had gotten for you, you sat in the corner with your face buried behind your hands. Shoulders shaking from the force of your muffled sobs, you tried soothing yourself by rocking. You were mumbling to yourself, words too faint for Caleb to make out.

It was instinctual for him. Fingers twitching as the need to comfort you overtook him.

When he tried to sit up, it was then that he noticed his hands were bound to the headboard. The knots there were surprisingly sturdy, but he was sure that if he tried hard enough, he’d be able to break free. Before even trying, he needed to create a safe space to find out what had made you spiral to the point you had to drug him and tie him to your bed.

Your name caught in his dry throat, merely a croak that you were unable to hear over your cries. He swallowed whatever spit he was able to gather in his mouth.

“Pips…”

Your rocking stopped and you shyly peeked at him from spread fingers. You called for him as you shot up from your seat on the floor, a hand against the wall to steady yourself. You were beginning to think he would never wake up as you had given him more than the recommended daily dose.

“Caleb, you’re okay!”

Body on autopilot, you took a couple of steps towards him, halting as you realized what had occurred over a couple of hours. Teeth gnawed at your bottom lip, small nicks already left behind.

You looked tired. He was sure you hadn’t slept, for how long though, he was unsure.

There you stood, wrapped in your blanket. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy, cheeks streaked by the heavy tears you had shed. Even your hair was in disarray, flyaways standing out from the number of times you must have desperately clutched at the strands.

Where do you even begin? What could you possibly say that could justify what you had done to him?

Your name being called pulled you from your mind, attention zeroing in on the male occupying your bed.

“Come here, honey.”

Nervous wide eyes looked at him as you shook your head.

“Nuh-uh.”

It was without question that he had every right to lash out at you. You were sure the moment you stood beside him, he’d thrash and tug at his binds, fingers itching to grab onto your arms to throttle you. Would he raise his voice as he questioned your motives?

“I’m not gonna hurt you. You know I could never hurt my sweet girl.” He gestured for you to come closer with a tilt of his chin. “My neck is hurting from holding it up. Just need you to adjust the pillow.”

The steps you took over to him were apprehensive, it was as if you were testing the water, assessing every move he made to ensure he wouldn’t suddenly reach out to grab you. Trying to keep your body away from him while reaching for the pillow next to him, you snatched it towards your middle.

The entire time, Caleb followed your every move. Like always, he wore a soft smile that was reserved for you alone. Why wasn’t he angry with you? Had anyone else been put in this situation, they’d be screaming at the top of their lungs, flailing until they freed themselves. Was he trying to get you to lower your guard?

Tenderly, you held his head up as you adjusted the pillow, laying him back down as gently as ever. You pulled your hands away, clasping them as you anxiously shifted on your feet while at the side of the bed.

“Stop looking as if I’m going to eat you alive. Sit.”

Like a trained pup, you sat beside him. Had you had a tail, it would be wagging slightly, eagerly waiting to complete the next task given to you just to receive praise from its owner.

Neither one of you said anything, too busy planning your next words. If you still had that flower-shaped analog clock on your bedside table, you’d be able to hear it ticking, maybe even the gears turning. Being the reason for the situation, you decided you needed to be the one to start the conversation.

“Caleb, I’m-”

“You beat me to it, you know? Had you waited a few more days to act, our positions would have been switched.” Your expression must have shown your confusion at his words, causing a chuckle to stem from him. “Where do you think I’ve been these past couple of days? What have I been up to?”

You offered him a shrug of your shoulders, at a loss for words. He snickered, lazily looking around your room before fixing it back to you.

The nervous look in your eyes was adorable to him. He never thought you’d have the guts to drug him. Turns out, you’re just as messed up as he is. A part of him was proud that he had managed to push you past the edge. He managed to get you to do something so out of character as you feared he would voluntarily leave you behind.

“I know I’ve left you alone a lot these last couple of weeks. I can’t even begin to imagine what went through that silly little mind of yours.”

Bringing your thumb up to your mouth, you began biting the tender side, irritating the reopened wound. It was only then that a frown formed on Caleb’s face.

“Don’t do that. You’re not letting it heal and leaving it open to infection.”

You complied, opting to sit stiffly by his side. Your fingers curled over the edge of the blanket still wrapped around you, offering you a lifeline.

“Though we each have our own characteristics, it’s funny how similar we are at the same time. Do you remember the time I told you that I wanted to hide you away from everyone? Promised to get you a house with a pretty garden you’d be able to tend to to your heart’s content?”

You nodded, unsure why he would bring that up at a time like this.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Your frustration was clear in your tone which made Caleb blow air through his nose. Always so impatient.

“I’m aware I’ve been distant lately and, since I know you better than anyone, I’m sure your mind wandered to the possibility of me abandoning you. But, if you must know, I was following through on my pledge to you. Got you a cute house on the nice side of town, it doesn’t have a white picket fence as that offers no real security, but it does have a sturdy ornamental wrought iron gate with a nice driveway leading up to the house.”

He smiled at your perplexed expression, wanting nothing more than to cup your face and press a warm kiss on the apple of your cheek.

“I was getting everything in order, finalizing important paperwork. I never knew picking out furniture was such a tedious task. Ended up hiring an interior decorator. Whatever you don’t like, we’ll swap out.”

As if you hadn’t tied him up, you decided you’d still push his buttons.

“What if I say no?”

He scoffed, lazily smirking at you.

“Then you’ll be the one tied to the bed. Except it would be the king-sized four-poster bed waiting for us at our new home. I even made sure it had those little drape things you’ve always wanted.”

Every word had your heart buzzing and your stomach fluttering as though butterflies were trapped there. How could you have possibly believed that the man who cooked for you and bathed you before tucking you into bed would leave you high and dry?

Shame filled every crevice of your mind and body. The burning sensation from earlier filled your eyes, your throat painfully tightening. Your face turned red as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay.

He wasn’t planning on leaving you, he was busy preparing a place for the two of you to live out the rest of your lives.

“I’m sorry!” Your sob unexpectedly cut through the silence. “I’m so sorry. It was stupid of me to think anything less of you! It's always been you by my side, always looking after me. You keep me safe and here I go, having these damn negative thoughts that never seem to go away. Please, don’t hate me…Don’t leave me!”

Caleb watched as your body shook from the force of the cries coming from you. He was pleased with the fact that he managed to slither his way into your very soul. You’d be lost without him. Just like him, you were willing to take things to the next level if it meant staying side by side.

Bending his knee, he nudged your hip to catch your attention. When you sneaked a glance at him, sniffling and wiping at your eyes, he gestured for you to lie on his chest.

“Come to me, pips.”

You were eager, settling yourself on top of him. Safely tucking your face against his neck, you unconsciously nuzzled the heated skin, finding the comfort you’ve been searching for the past couple of hours. Your fingers clutched at his shirt, conveying the fear coursing through your veins.

He couldn’t rub circles on your back the way he usually would, instead settling with humming, the vibrations not only stopping your tears, but calming the anxiety out of your body. As best as he could, he nuzzled the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

There were wet spots on his shirt when you pulled away. You were now straddling him. Pressing your lips into a pout, you sniffled.

“I’m sorry…your shirt’s dirty.”

“S’okay. I have others.”

Reassuring as always.

“I-I should untie you now.”

Shaky fingers reached for his binds only to somehow be shooed away by his own.

“Might be best you leave me tied up like this, pips. Don’t tell me you can’t tell how turned on I am?” With a shift of his hips, he pressed his hardened bulge against your clothed pussy. “If you let my hands free right now, I’m gonna take you till you either use your safeword or you pass out from exhaustion. You’re gonna have to tire me out a bit first.”

A gasp was pushed out of you as he rocked his hips, his shaft slotting itself between your lips. With a contented sigh, he said,

“Probably a little late to say this but, I always fantasized about being tied up and you using me to pleasure yourself…Look at ya’ making my dreams come true. Such a good girl, honey.”

You let out a little whine as your slick started to gather at your opening, gradually staining the fabric of your underwear with each roll of his pelvis. He was sure that if he was able to have a look, your panties would have a dark spot.

“You like that? Like the thought of me being at your mercy? Use me…gotta christen your room one last time before we move, yeah?”

You bobbed your head, rocking your hips to meet with his.

“Undress f’me…wanna see my girl.”

You didn’t think twice as you flung your blanket to the side and grabbed the hem of your shirt before pulling it off in one smooth motion.

Caleb’s eyes trailed from your face to your bouncing tits that settled after removing your lace bra. His palms itched with the fixed need to squeeze, lick, and play with them. They soothed him; the sight of the fatty flesh protruding through his fingers, nips perking at the slightest brush.

It was torture to have you naked before him yet unable to touch or squeeze. No torture would be as welcome as the one you inadvertently placed the two of you in. His tolerance would be tested, while your willpower would be scrutinized. For the most part, he’d do all the work, manhandling you into position and holding you up when needed.

It would all be worth it in the end.

Bare, and only for him to see, you undid the buckle of his belt, the metal clinking against each other. Your skin, the one he would religiously moisturize after a shower still held faded traces of your last lovemaking. Fading bruises shaped like his fingers. The second he was set loose, he’d make sure to leave new ones.

Once freed from the confines of his pants, you bit your lip as you took in his cock held in your hand. When Caleb was the one in charge, he’d start by eating you out, fingering you, or both, depending on his mood.

Though the head of his dick was saturated with his cum, a pearlescent bead spilling from the slit, you would need him dripping if he were to comfortably fit in your mouth. As if reading your mind, he suggested you’d spit on it, spreading it down to the base.

“Good girl, just-ah, shit-just like that…”

You made sure to go slow, trying to learn what he liked most. He was particularly responsive when you jerked him off in a twisting motion, thumb caressing the flushed head. His hips would buck upward and his eyes would shut as his head fell back onto the pillow. Pleasured groans slipped past his lips, jaw clenching.

“Shit, pips. I’m kinda upset we didn’t-ah ah fuck-do this sooner. Please, use your tongue…wanna cum in your mouth.”

Giving sweet kitten licks, savoring the taste of his cum on your tongue, you shifted to suckling on the head. Tension was rising, his abs contracting, and his mouth falling open in a silent scream. Streaks of saliva covered his length from the head, down to the base.

You took as much as you could into your awaiting mouth, the corners of your lips stinging due to the stretch. What couldn’t fit into your mouth, you stroked with a sticky palm. Gazing up at him, you were met with his amethyst colored eyes boring into you. His eyes were hooded, his cheeks flushed a dusty pink.

“Look at you…tongue-fucking my cock like such a big girl. Ah-ah…doing so good.”

He was the first to break eye contact, the pleasure causing his head to fall back, no longer having any energy to hold it up. He’d much rather focus on the feel of your tongue against his cock. Had his hands not been bound, he’d have his fingers tangled up in your locks, shoving his dick in until the tip hit the back of your throat.

With your free hand, you moved to fondle his balls. You licked from the slit, down to where his length connected to his scrotum, taking one into your mouth. You didn’t stop until he was drenched in your spit. Sliding your tongue back up his dick, you hummed around the mushroom head, bracing for what was to come as his abs flexed and his nails dug into his palm.

“F-fucking hell, pips. Where’d did-Where the hell did you learn-ah,ngh-that?”

His cum splashed against your warm, wet mouth, marking it as his. With his seed dripping from your mouth to your chin, you did the best you could to wipe away the excess, licking your fingers while not caring when drops landed on your tits.

The two of you were marked by the other, your bodies brimming with happiness.

“Did you like it?”

He noted the uncertainty in your tone. If he could, he’d smother you with kisses.

“Are ya’ kidding? Thought I was gonna pass out when you started playing with my balls. I wish I could repay you, but my hands are literally tied. So, come and claim your prize, honey.”

You smiled, giggling and brimming with glee as you positioned yourself above his cock. With a shaky hand, due to the excitement, you slid the head in between your folds, gathering the wetness pooling at your hole and dragging it up to your bundle of nerves. Caleb gazed up at you, transfixed as your head fell back, sighing when his tip caressed your clit.

“Take your time. There’s no rush, pips.”

Nudging the tip past your hole, your eyebrows pulled together at the burn, groaning as not even half of him was in you. You’d have to gradually work him into you. This position would have him so deep to the point you’ll feel him in your stomach.

You went at a moderate pace, working every inch little by little. You felt as though you could cum from this alone as his shaft was pressing against your walls, leaving no space in between. Your head was spinning, by the time his cock was smushed against your cervix. At your refusal to move, Caleb moaned, trying his best to go at the pace you had set.

“Honey, you’re killing me here. Please, just…use me already.”

The first few bounces by you were apprehensive. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, the anxiety running through you evident on your face.

“This okay?” You asked, eyes begging for his approval.

He nodded dumbly, eyes shut as small puffs of air slipped from his mouth.

“M-more than okay…” He threw his head back in pleasure when you took him particularly deep.

“You look so fucking beautiful riding me…ngh-ah ah…splitting yourself o-open on my cock. Gonna let you take charge more often.”

His eyes opened up when your breathing and pace picked up. You looked like a damn angel. Your lips were swollen, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat as a dazed look glossed over your eyes. Even your cheeks held a rosy hue.

He felt like a virgin as he was hypnotized by your bouncing breasts. His cum that had stained your breast had dried and left behind white streaks. The hardened peaks were just asking to be fondled with.

If they managed to catch his attention now, he couldn’t imagine what he would be like when they swelled with milk, preparing for the arrival of your little one. He knew for a fact he would pay them extra attention when covering you in lotion.

“Can’t help, but picture you swollen with my kid. You’d be so good to them. Be such a good mommy.”

You let out a needy little whine as your cunt clenched around him. He was being sucked into your greedy core, the wet sound permitting the air.

“Yeah, you like that? He breathed out. Planting his feet on the bed, he used that as leverage to fuck up into you. Your hands scrambling for purchase against his chest. “Wanna have my babies? Have a living, breathing manifestation of our love? We’d-ngh, ah fuck-we’d forever be bound to one another because of them. You’d never be able to get rid of me.”

“Yes! God, yes…Want everything with you! Ah-ah, please…I’d be such a good mommy…Would love them with everything I have!”

Your body was trembling, evidence of your impending orgasm building deep within your belly. You could no longer hold yourself up and ended up pressed up against Caleb, ass bouncing back to meet his thrust. With your forehead lying on his, you were able to look at each other in the eye, unaware that he had managed to slip a hand out of its hold due to the sweat and used it to cradle the back of your head.

“Caleb…I can’t hold it in-need to cum…you’re gonna make me cum, please…”

“You don’t have to ask after being so good to me, honey.”

Squeezing your eyes tightly, you focused on the feel of him sliding in and out, your slick spilling past your puffy folds and dripping down your thighs, staining Caleb with your musk. The rough material of his shirt brushed against your sensitive nipples. When your mouth fell open, he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside. Warm and wet, the slick muscle slides along yours, tasting himself there.

Nails digging into his pecs, your body shook as you came and your cries were swallowed by his mouth. He didn’t let up, using you as his own fleshlight until he was spilling his seed in your awaiting cunt. The desperation in how you clung to him pushing him over the edge.

It was quiet as you both calmed your breathing, slowly returning to your baseline. At first, you paid no attention to the fingers trailing from your neck down to your back until you remembered he was supposed to be bound by his wrist to begin with. When you managed to sit up, his dick still buried deep inside you, you noticed he had managed to slip one hand out of its restraints, the rope idly dangling on the headboard. He wore a fond smile.

“How’d you get out! I spent so many days practicing how to tie those damn knots…” You finished with a pout, disappointed that your hard work hadn't paid off.

“You can’t possibly think a piece of string could hold me back, right?”

“But your other hand is still-”

Without a little amount of effort, he freed his other hand, flexing his fingers to restore the normal circulation. No longer bound, he wrapped his arms around you, flipping you onto your back with him on top. He made sure to place you in the middle. You felt him getting hard again, his length twitching against your gummy walls.

“I commend your efforts, pips. I do, but how about you leave all the knots and bondage stuff to the pros, yeah?”

Gathering both of your hands, he reached out to untie one of the ropes. From your position, you were able to watch as he tied your wrist together, checking every so often that it didn’t interfere with your circulation. The knot he used was one you remembered that fell into the expert category. Yet, he did it with ease.

When he pushed your arms so that they were above your head, a gasp fell from your parted lips, caught off guard by the suddenness of his actions.

“Keep them there.”

He commanded and you listened, following his every move with eager eyes. Taking the other string still tied to the headboard, he slipped it in between your arms and brought it through one of the slots at the head of the bed.

Checking to see how sturdy it was, he smiled down at you when he confirmed there was no way you’d be able to slip out of it.

He curled his form over yours, fingers squeezing your tits, and tongue tracing the hardened buds that had been teasing him from the minute your bra came off. You mewled, arching up and pressing your breasts against his face. He gave a pleased hum, turning his head side to side in between the soft mounds.

“Try as you may, you’re not breaking out of this as easily as I did.” He paused, sliding a hand down your side, causing a shaky breath to slip past your lips as goosebumps covered your flesh. “Now, I’m going to enjoy watching you fight against your bonds when the pleasure becomes too much for you, pipsqueak.”

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Not edited(I’m too lazy tbh)

[stonedxia]

⭑.ᐟ

caleb likes to let her watch his cock grow from soft to hard. it’s like a mini show, one she’s watched a million times but never gets tired of.

she’s melting into his side, his cock laying flat onto his leg, his sweatpants pushed down enough for it to sit thickly and bare for her to watch. he wants to touch himself so badly, but he’s decided to obey her for tonight.

her lips are working at his hot neck, each small hair tickling her nose. he’s grown his hair out a bit, biceps flexing behind his head as he uses breathing exercises to control himself.

“i love your cock, ge.” she flatters, eyelashes batting against his skin.

he huffs out a laugh, like he can’t decide if he wants to say thank you or force her mouth onto it right now.

he decides to let her finger graze along the edge of his length. it’s slowly coming to life, stiffening and dancing on it’s own as it begins to stand. his veins visibly puff out, blood pumping to every crevice of his dick. the tip begins to shine with wetness, pre-cum oozing like molasses. it’s red hot with impatience, small, inconsistent moans pouring from his lips onto hers.

she kisses him slowly like torture, hissing into her mouth as she finally wraps her small hand around his hard-on. she sucks his tongue like it’s his cock, vibrating his core.

“who knew you’d be such a size queen.” he jabs at her side, the muscles in his abdomen tightening as her palm tightens like a death grip on him.

her smile is sly and her pupils leave little to no room for her iris. she’s saturated in his desire, every nerve standing on end.

“good thing yours is so big, then.” her tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip, his teeth catching onto it in retaliation.

“good thing— f-fuck, don’t be a god damn tease. keep going. you drive me up the wall, pips.” he whimpers into her, hips rising frantically to meet her snail pace.

she pinches the tip of his cock, eliciting a yelp from him. her hand goes to squeeze his balls, teasing his pubic hairs around it. caleb is so so sensitive. he wants to punish her as he hears her sultry laugh, to see her cheek turn crimson after his palm.

“wanna feel you unravel, see how much this huge cock can cum. i need it so bad, caleb.” her command is his dying wish; and his little death approaches fast.

[vetckkie]

girl get off that c.ai and embrace the 'x reader'

[cumironi]

STRONGEST vs. WETTEST

pairings; gojo satoru, geto suguru

summary. After a disastrous date with a guy who called you “broken” for never squirting, a furious you storms back to the Jujutsu Tech dorms—only to run straight into your two least favorite (and hottest) classmates: Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. What starts as vicious teasing about your ruined night quickly spirals into the most “scientific experiment” of your life: blindfolds, toys, edging, and a very determined duo hell-bent on proving just how wrong that idiot was.

word count.

triggers/warnings. Enemies to Lovers, Enemies with Benefits, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Porn with Feelings, Porn with Plot, Alternate Universe - College/University, Jujutsu Tech College AU, Gojo Satoru/Reader/Geto Suguru, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M, Reader-Insert, Female Reader, Rough Sex, Gentle Sex, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Forced Orgasm, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Blindfolds, Sex Toys ( Vibrators ), Oral Sex, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Vaginal Sex, Spit Kissing, Cum Play, Facials, Bukkake, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Dirty Talk, Teasing, Mean Dom Gojo, Mean Dom Geto, Affectionate Bullying, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Bad Date Gone Right, Revenge Sex Vibes, Squirting.

the night hangs heavy over the jujutsu tech campus like a velvet shroud, all thick and sultry with that late-autumn chill that nips at your bare skin but doesn't quite bite hard enough to make you regret your choices—yet— like a damp blanket, thick with the remnants of a humid evening that started out promising but soured faster than milk left out in the sun. stars speckle the sky in lazy clusters, mocking you with their twinkling indifference, while the moon's a fat, glowing orb that casts long shadows across the winding paths of the dorm grounds.

it’s late— it's past midnight, the kind of hour where the world feels too quiet, too empty, except for the distant hum of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves whispering secrets you don't care to hear. the kind of quiet that amplifies every little sound, like the distant hum of a streetlamp flickering its last breaths or the faint rustle of leaves skittering across the pavement like tiny ghosts.

you're storming—no, stomping—down the cracked pavement path that leads to the shared dorms, the cool, gritty concrete biting into your bare soles with each deliberate step— god, your feet ache, but not as much as your pride—or whatever's left of it after that disaster of a date. your high heels dangling from one hand like defeated trophies, their strappy black leather swinging with each furious step. your feet are bare against the cool, rough concrete, toes curling slightly with every gritty contact, the pavement's uneven texture scraping just enough to remind you how utterly pissed you are. god, it feels grounding in the worst way, like the earth’s way of saying hey, girl, snap out of it, but all it does is fuel your grumble, a low, muttering rumble that spills from your lips in fragmented curses.

your dress—oh, this goddamn dress—this slutty little number you picked out with such wicked intent, clings to your body like a second skin, slutty in the best (or worst) way possible, the kind of outfit you picked out with mischief in mind, envisioning tangled sheets and breathless moans until the sun peeked over the horizon; is a deep crimson slip of silk that clings to every curve like it's painted on, the fabric so thin it whispers against your thighs with each movement, riding up just a tad too high to be innocent.

it's got a plunging neckline that dips dangerously low, framing the swell of your breasts with lace-trimmed edges that scream come and get it, and the hem barely skims mid-thigh, leaving your long legs exposed to the night's breeze, flirting with the edge of indecency, short enough that a gust of wind could expose the even sluttier lace thong underneath. underneath? even sluttier—a matching black thong that's more string than substance, paired with a bra that pushes everything up and out like an offering to the gods of debauchery, the kind that screams fuck me without you having to say a word.

you shaved everywhere, smooth as silk, and doused yourself in that vanilla-caramel perfume that always turns heads, the scent lingering like a sweet, seductive trail. your makeup's still flawless, smoky eyes and red lips that could make a saint sin, hair tousled just right from the wind and your earlier anticipation. you are a vision, honestly — you're a walking fantasy, so fucking pretty you could blind someone with a glance, curves in all the right places, skin glowing under the dim campus lights. but tonight? all that effort wasted on some idiot who couldn't appreciate the masterpiece in front of him.

your face is a storm cloud of upset, brows furrowed deep enough to carve permanent lines, lips pursed in a pout that's equal parts adorable and menacing, eyes narrowed like you're plotting murder—which, honestly, you kind of are. each step comes with a grumble, words tumbling out in a heated whisper to yourself, “fucking idiot, who does he think he is?”

the date had started so promising: a cozy little restaurant downtown with dim lighting and candles flickering like they knew the vibe, the guy across from you all chiseled jaw and charming smile, handsome in that generic way that makes your pulse quicken. food was great—steak juicy and rare, wine smooth and heady, conversation basic but bearable, small talk about classes and cursed techniques that didn't bore you to tears. and you? you were geared up for the main event, ready to get dicked down until dawn, body primed and eager, imagining hands on your skin, moans echoing through some cheap motel room. but no. nope. hell no.

the conversation veered into bedroom territory, and he hits you with that stupid question: can you squirt? you're honest—“not sure, never have, no guy's ever made me—and suddenly his face twists like you just confessed to being a cursed spirit in disguise. calls you broken, says he likes girls who can make him feel drowned, like he's some aquatic fetishist who needs a fucking flood to get off. the fuck was that? you're not broken just because squirting's not in your repertoire; it's a stupid, shallow reason to bail, as if your body's some defective toy he can return.

you could do so much better than squirt, anyway—hell, you could clench around him like a vice, milk him dry with those kegels you've been practicing, ride him reverse cowgirl until he's begging for mercy, deepthroat like a pro and swallow every drop without spilling, or arch your back in doggy so perfectly he'd see stars.

you could moan his name in ways that shatter egos, scratch down his back leaving marks that last days, or even edge him for hours until he's a whimpering mess. squirting? please. that's amateur hour compared to the symphony of pleasure you could orchestrate. and the fucking guy can squirt himself if he's so obsessed—shove a hose up his ass and drown his stupid self in it.

you grumble louder now, voice rising in the quiet night, “if he wants to drown so bad, he can jump in the fucking ocean, not hunt for girls like they're goddamn fountains.” the words echo off the dorm buildings, your bare feet slapping the pavement harder, frustration boiling over until you spot a trash can by the path—rusted metal, overflowing with soda cans and wrappers—and you kick it, hard, the clang ringing out like a gunshot in the silence, the can wobbling but not toppling, your toe throbbing but the satisfaction worth it.

“take that, you symbolic piece of shit,” you mutter, pushing through the double doors of the dorm with a shove that makes them bang against the walls.

inside, the lobby's dimly lit, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like annoyed bees, the air thick with the faint scent of instant ramen and lingering cursed energy from earlier training sessions. you stomp deeper, into the communal living room where mismatched couches sag under invisible weights, a tv flickering static in the corner, posters of old jujutsu missions peeling from the walls.

it's college life at its finest—messy, chaotic, shared among sorcerers who pretend they're adults but act like overgrown kids. but your dramatic entrance gets halted mid-stride by voices, two of them, lazy and teasing, cutting through the quiet like knives dipped in honey.

“look at that, strolling in like a lost little slut after curfew,” comes the first voice, smooth and mocking, belonging to gojo satoru, that white-haired menace sprawled on the couch with his long legs kicked up, blindfold pushed up to reveal those piercing blue eyes glinting with mischief. he's in his usual casual getup—black shirt hugging his lean muscles, sweatpants low on his hips—looking every bit the pervert he is, a smirk playing on his lips like he owns the damn room.

“yeah, what happened, princess? date ditch you 'cause you couldn't keep up?” adds geto suguru, his dark hair loose around his shoulders, lounging beside gojo with that infuriatingly calm demeanor, but his eyes—sharp and hungry—rake over your form, lingering on the way your dress clings, the bare feet, the upset flush on your cheeks. he's in a simple tank top that shows off his broad shoulders, gauges glinting in the low light, voice dripping with that mean sweetness that always gets under your skin.

you freeze, heat rising in your chest—not just from anger, but from the way they look at you, like predators toying with prey, affectionate in their filthiness, loving in their menace. enemies? sure, on the surface—always bickering in class, clashing during missions, their teasing pushing your buttons since freshman year. but there's something deeper, stupid and sweet, a dynamic where their perversion feels almost caring, their insults laced with unspoken want. you whirl on them, heels still dangling, face twisting further into that grumble-pout. “shut the fuck up, both of you. not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.”

gojo laughs, that high-pitched, deranged cackle that echoes too loud, like a fucking hyena leaning forward with elbows on knees. “aw, come on, don't be like that. you look all dolled up and slutty—that dress? damn, it's practically begging to be ripped off. but your face says the night bombed. what, pretty boy couldn't handle you? or wait, did he call you broken too?” he mimics your earlier grumble, voice pitching up in dramatic mockery, and somehow he knows— damn you gojo and his stupid six eyes. . . while geto chuckles low, filthy and soft, “nah, satoru, look at her grumble. bet she scared him off with that attitude. or maybe she promised the world and delivered a drizzle. pathetic, aren’t you?”

you step closer, bare feet padding on the worn carpet, anger flaring but mixed with that weird, playful heat they always spark—stupid, affectionate, like they're mean because they care too much not to be. “fuck off, idiots. he was the broken one, obsessed with squirting like it's the holy grail. and you two? calling me a slut? pot meet kettle—you're the perverts who stare at my ass during training.” your voice rises, dramatic and crazy (must be loose her mind’ both men thought), hands gesturing wildly, but there's a spark in your eyes, a flame pull toward their teasing, the way gojo's gaze drops to your cleavage, shameless. . .  while geto smirks, “oh, we're perverts? says the one barefoot and fuming in lingerie disguised as a dress. tell us more, sweetheart—did he at least make you moan before bailing?”

“moan? ha, as if,” you snap back, crossing your arms which only pushes your breasts up further, drawing their eyes like magnets, the argument heating up in that ‘make me mad but i know you are gonna fuck me later’ way—mean words flying but softened by the underlying affection, their shamelessness, rude. . . fucking meannnn wrapping around you like a warm, sticky post-sex hug.

gojo stands now, towering over you with that dramatic flair, like he knows he is better than anyone— he is, he soooo fucking is. “come on, admit it, you're upset 'cause you wanted to get fucked silly, and now you're taking it out on us. poor thing, all dressed up with no one to drown.” geto joins in, voice sweet but cutting, “yeah, but we could fix that—if you're not too broken for us.” 

your frown deepens, carving sharp little trenches between your brows, lips twisting into something so pouty and stormy it could summon rainclouds inside this damn dorm. you're more upset than you thought possible, chest tight and hot, because—of all the fucking people to run into tonight—it's them. gojo satoru and geto suguru, the undisputed strongest duo on campus, the ones every girl whispers about in the locker rooms with flushed cheeks and wide eyes.

especially gojo, they say. especially, the gojo fucking satoru. that white-haired freak apparently fucks like he fights: relentless, overwhelming, leaves you shaking and stupid for days. and you hate that the thought even crosses your mind—hate that you can't believe that idiot from the date couldn't handle you, yet these two perverts have probably ruined half the female population with their dicks. it's unfair. it's infuriating. it's making your thighs clench in the worst way. it make your pussy cry for thier said 'magical' cock. . . or cocks???  yeah, you can definitly do both. . . wink, wink. 

you let out a long, dramatic groan that echoes in the empty living room, shoulders slumping as you spin on your bare heel. “fuck off, both of you,” you mutter, voice low and gravelly with exhaustion and lingering rage, before turning toward the elevator at the end of the hall. your heels still dangle from your fingers, swinging like pendulums counting down to your escape, bare feet padding softly against the cold linoleum now, each step a little stomp because you're still pissed.

behind you, gojo lets out the most pathetic, high-pitched whine you've ever heard from a grown man. “whaaat? you're just gonna leave us hanging like that?” he yells with that gangly, dramatic flair, long legs carrying him after you in two big strides. geto follows at a more leisurely pace, hands in his pockets, but you can feel his dark eyes burning into your back like brands.

“i wanna get away from you idiots,” you call over your shoulder without looking back, voice flat and mean, jabbing the elevator button repeatedly like it's personally offended you. the doors finally ding open with a tired groan, and you slip inside, pressing your back against the far wall, arms crossed tight under your chest—which, of course, only pushes your tits up higher in that slutty crimson dress. key word; purposely (you try to get fucked but too shy to ask).

but peace? nope. not tonight. gojo barrels in right after you, all boundless energy and smirking lips, while geto slides in smooth and quiet, the doors closing with a soft thunk that traps all three of you in this tiny metal box. instantly, the air thickens—cursed energy, perfume, and the faint musk of their cologne mixing into something heady and dangerous. geto's on your right, leaning casually against the wall, while gojo crowds your left, towering and unapologetic.

geto glances at the panel, that lazy smirk curling his mouth as his dark eyes flick to you. “12, right?” he murmurs, voice low and velvet-rough, not even waiting for confirmation before his long finger presses the button for floor 12—your floor—and then 8, theirs, right below. the elevator lurches upward with a soft hum, and you exhale a tiny, relieved sigh, thinking thank fuck, they'll get off first, leave you alone to stew in your room with a vibrator and some spite . . . lie, you rather stew, stir, anything with cock, or cocks.

“thanks,” you mumble under your breath, barely audible, staring at the floor numbers lighting up one by one.

geto hums in response, a deep, satisfied sound that vibrates through the small space. “anytime, princess.”

but gojo—fucking gojo—can't let anything be peaceful. he's staring at you openly, head tilted, blindfold pushed up so those stupidly bright blue eyes can rake over every inch of you. he's leaning sideways now, one palm flat against the wall right beside your head, caging you in without touching, his body heat radiating like a furnace. that signature smirk stretches wider, lazy and filthy.

you finally snap your gaze to him, frown sharpening. “what the fuck are you looking at?”

he shrugs, slow and exaggerated, eyes dropping deliberately to your chest. “your tits,” he says, voice dripping with casual perversion, like he's commenting on the weather. his smirk grows even bigger, sharp canines glinting. geto snorts beside you, a soft puff of laughter he doesn't bother hiding.

“fuck off, satoru,” you hiss, cheeks burning despite yourself, arms tightening across your chest like that'll hide anything in this dress.

but gojo doesn't listen—never listens. instead, his free hand lifts, fingers bold and unhesitating as they hook into the plunging neckline of your dress. he tugs it down slow, deliberate, the silk sliding lower until the lace edge of your bra peeks out and even more cleavage spills into view, the cool elevator air kissing newly exposed skin. both of them let out twin hums of approval—gojo's high and teasing, geto's low and rumbling—like they've just uncovered buried treasure.

“fuck, that's better,” gojo breathes, eyes hooded, thumb brushing the swell of your breast for half a second before you react.

you slap his hand away hard, the crack echoing in the tiny space, your voice rising sharp and dramatic. “you're both disgusting! absolute perverts—get your filthy hands off me!”

gojo whines again, cradling his slapped hand to his chest like you mortally wounded him, bottom lip jutting out in the most over-the-top pout. “owww, so mean! we were just appreciating the view you put on display, sweetheart. walking in here all slutty and grumpy—it's practically an invitation.” that's right. . . i'm inviting you two to fuck me, please take the goddamn bait' you thought.

geto chuckles darker this time, shifting closer on your right until his shoulder brushes yours, voice soft and sweet like poison. “he's not wrong. that dress is begging to be messed up. and you're the one who came home all worked up and unsatisfied… we can smell it on you.”

your breath hitches, thighs pressing together instinctively as the elevator climbs agonizingly slow, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, thick enough to choke on. they're so close—gojo's fingers still hovering near your chest like he might try again, geto's gaze heavy and knowing on your face—and you hate how your body's reacting, how the anger's twisting into something hotter, needier, nastierrrr. the burn is excruciating, every second stretching into eternity as the floor numbers tick upward, and you know—you just know—they're not getting off on 8 without dragging you into whatever filthy chaos they have planned— hope it's fuck you till you cry domain.

the elevator dings like a smug little bitch, doors sliding open with a soft whoosh to reveal the dimly lit hallway of floor 8—their floor, all muted blues and grays under the flickering fluorescent lights, posters of old missions taped crookedly to the walls, the faint smell of instant coffee and boy-sweat lingering like a signature. geto steps out first, smooth and unhurried, turning to plant himself right in front of the doors with his arms loosely crossed, that dark hair falling over one shoulder, smirk sharp enough to cut glass as he blocks any hope of escape. gojo's still glued to your left side, body heat pouring off him in waves, that stupidly tall frame crowding you against the wall like he owns the damn elevator.

you tilt your head at him slow, deliberate, one brow arched high in that silent, universal language of get the fuck out, now. your bare toes curl against the cold metal floor, heels still dangling uselessly from your fingers, crimson dress riding up just a little higher from all the shifting.

gojo blinks those ridiculous blue eyes, points at his own chest with a long finger, then jabs it toward the open door like he's genuinely confused. “me? out?” he mouths dramatically, lips forming the words in exaggerated slow-motion.

you nod once, firm and pissed, lips pressed thin.

he nods back, all solemn and fake-serious—then in one fluid, idiotically strong motion, he ducks low, arm hooking behind your knees, the other around your back, and suddenly the world flips upside down. your stomach drops as you're hoisted over his shoulder like a goddamn sack of cursing, squirming girl. the breath whooshes out of you in a shocked yelp, your heels clatter to the elevator floor forgotten, hair tumbling down in a wild curtain as blood rushes to your head.

“what the fuck are you doing, satoru?!” you screech, voice echoing off the hallway walls, fists pounding uselessly against the broad, annoyingly solid plane of his back—muscles flexing under your palms like he’s enjoying the massage. upside down, you catch geto strolling behind, one hand in his pockets while the othe now holding your heels, laughing low and rich, eyes crinkled with pure satisfaction.

“put me down right now or i swear to god i'll scream!” you threaten, kicking your legs, bare feet flailing in the air, thighs brushing dangerously close to gojo's face with every swing.

geto tilts his head, voice all velvet and filth as he walks backward down the hall, keeping pace. “go ahead and scream, baby. everyone on this floor already thinks satoru's fucking you good when you make noise like that. they know his reputation.” he winks, tongue flicking over his lower lip like he's tasting the idea already.

you go dead silent for a beat, dangling there like a furious cat, staring at geto upside down—blood rushing louder in your ears. “are you fucking kidding me?” you finally hiss, incredulous and hot-cheeked. “you’re both disgusting—absolute animals—put me down!”

you kick harder, one heel connecting with gojo's abs— which does absolutely nothing except make him grunt a pleased little “mmph”, and you slap at his back again, nails scraping through the fabric of his shirt. but he's the strongest for a reason—your hits are mosquito bites to him, and he just chuckles, the vibration rumbling through his chest into your belly where it’s pressed against his shoulder.

gojo strides down the hall like he’s carrying a prize, long legs eating distance until he stops at a door—their shared dorm, you realize dimly, the one everyone jokes is basically a brothel disguised as student housing. he kicks it open with one foot, the bang loud and dramatic, revealing a messy, lived-in chaos of clothes strewn over chairs, empty energy drink cans, two unmade beds pushed together into one massive one because of course they share, posters of cursed techniques and half-naked models taped side by side. the air smells like them—clean sweat, mint, and something darker, muskier.

he finally lowers you, slow enough that your body slides down his front, dress hiking up embarrassingly high, thighs brushing his hips, until your bare feet hit the soft rug. the world spins for a second—head rush making everything tilt—and before you can steady yourself or spit another curse, gojo's hands cup your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks soft and sudden, and his mouth crashes onto yours.

fucking yesss.

it’s not gentle. it’s hungry, stupid, overwhelming—lips hot and demanding, tongue sliding in without asking, tasting like the strawberry candy he’s always sucking on. you groan into it immediately, a low, betrayed “nngh” that vibrates between you both, hands flying up not to push but to grip—fingers digging hard into his biceps, anchoring yourself as your knees threaten to buckle. the door clicks shut behind you—geto locking it with a deliberate turn that echoes like a promise—and then his presence is at your back, heat radiating, but for now it’s just gojo devouring your mouth like he’s been starving for it.

you kiss him back just as filthy, teeth nipping his lower lip in retaliation, tongue tangling messy and wet, another soft moan spilling out of you, “mmph, fuck.” because god damn it, he tastes good, feels good, and all that earlier anger is melting into something molten and stupid between your thighs. your body arches instinctively, pressing closer, nipples tightening against the silk of your dress as his chest molds to yours.

geto’s low chuckle ghosts over your ear from behind, affectionate and mean all at once. “look at her, satoru. already moaning like she’s been waiting for this all night.”

gojo pulls back just enough to grin against your lips, breathless and wrecked. “told you we could fix that bad date, sweetheart.” then he dives back in, deeper, hungrier, one hand sliding down to palm your ass and squeeze like he owns it, while your head’s still spinning from the kiss and the carry and the fact that you’re in their room now, door locked, no escape—and honestly, you’re not even sure you want one anymore. bitch, you never do.

you feel geto before you even hear him move—his chest pressing flush against your back like a wall of warm, solid muscle, the thin fabric of his tank top doing nothing to hide the heat pouring off him. those big hands, calloused and rough from endless hours gripping weapons and throwing punches during training, slide up your bare arms slow and deliberate, fingers dragging over your skin like he's memorizing every inch. goosebumps erupt in their wake, your body betraying you instantly as his palms glide higher, over the delicate curve of your shoulders, thumbs brushing the thin straps of your crimson dress. he leans down—god, he's sooo tall—and his lips find the slope where your neck meets your shoulder, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses there, one, two, three, each one lingering longer than the last, his breath hot and minty against your skin. the faint scratch of his stubble makes you shiver, a tiny, involuntary “mmh” slipping from your throat.

you melt. like, actually melt—knees going soft, body sagging back into him until your head thuds gently against his chest, hair spilling over his collarbone as you let out a long, shaky sigh that sounds way too needy for your own pride. geto's chest rumbles with a low, pleased hum, one arm banding around your waist to hold you up while his lips keep working, sucking lightly now, leaving damp little trails that cool in the dorm's air-conditioned chill.

gojo, never one to be left out, crowds in closer from the front, that stupidly pretty face dipping to pepper kisses along your cheek—soft and teasing at first—then down to your jaw, nipping playfully before his mouth finds your neck on the opposite side from geto. he's not gentle like geto; he's greedy, lips sucking hard enough to bloom bruises almost instantly, tongue flicking out to soothe the sting before he latches on again. “nngh,” you moan softly as he marks you, one hickey, two, three, dark little claims blooming across your throat like he's signing his name in purple and red. his hands grip your hips, fingers digging in just enough to bruise tomorrow, pulling you tighter against him so you can feel how hard he's already getting, the thick line of him pressing insistently against your lower belly through his sweatpants.

geto's hand starts wandering—slow, filthy exploration—from your shoulder down the front of your dress, palm cupping one breast through the thin silk, giving it a lazy squeeze that makes your nipple pebble instantly against his touch. “ah—” you gasp into gojo's mouth as he steals another kiss, geto's fingers rolling the sensitive peak just enough to make your back arch before his hand slides lower, over the curve of your ribs, the dip of your waist, until he's cupping your pussy right through the dress. the fabric's so thin it's basically nothing— lingerie in disguised' quote gojo, his heat searing straight through to your thong-clad folds as he presses two fingers along your slit, rubbing slow and testing.

he pulls his lips from your shoulder with a wet little pop, breath ghosting over the damp skin there as he mutters a soft, incredulous “huh,” like he's just discovered the most baffling thing in the world. his fingers press a little harder, parting your lips through the layers of fabric, searching for wetness that should be flooding by now if that date had gone anywhere good.

“you're not dripping,” he says, voice low and velvet-rough, almost disappointed but mostly amused, fingers circling your clit lazily through the silk. “like, not even close to ‘just got fucked full’ dripping. sweetheart… did that guy even touch you?”

you groan, breathless and wrecked, head still lolling against geto's chest as gojo keeps sucking another hickey just below your ear, his teeth grazing in a way that makes your thighs clench. “nngh—no,” you manage, voice cracking as geto's fingers keep teasing, the pressure maddeningly light. “he didn't fuck me. the idiot didn't want to… said i was broken because i told him i've never squirted. as if my pussy's suddenly less because i'm not a fucking fountain.”

gojo pulls back just enough to laugh against your neck, the sound high and unhinged, vibrating through your skin as he licks a stripe up to your earlobe. “that's the dumbest shit i've ever heard. baby, you're soaking through your dress just from us kissing you—feel that, suguru?”

geto hums again, deeper this time, pressing his fingers harder until the fabric of your thong is wedged between your folds, the wet spot growing under his touch. “yeah… starting to now. but still, poor thing came home all dressed up like this and didn't even get properly railed. what a waste.”

you whine, hips rocking forward into geto's hand without permission, chasing more friction as gojo's mouth finds yours again, swallowing the sound with a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. “mmph— shut up,” you mumble against his lips, but there's no heat in it anymore—just needy, desperate want as both of them press closer, sandwiching you between their bodies, hands and mouths everywhere, the slowburning feelings finally catching fire and threatening to burn the whole damn dorm down with how stupidly, sweetly, lovingly mean they're being about fixing your ruined night.

gojo breaks the kiss with a wet, obscene pop, lips shiny and swollen as he grins down at you like the cat that finally caught the canary—except the canary's currently sandwiched between two very hungry cats and not even pretending to fly away anymore. his forehead rests against yours for a second, breath coming in hot little puffs that mingle with yours, those stupidly long white lashes fluttering as he stares into your eyes with that unhinged, affectionate gleam. “broken? because you don't squirt?” he echoes your earlier grumble in this high-pitched, mocking voice that's somehow still dripping with sugar, like he's teasing a toddler who dropped their ice cream. “baby, that's the funniest shit i've heard all week. guy probably couldn't find your clit with a map and a flashlight.”

geto laughs behind you, the sound rumbling through his chest and into your spine like thunder wrapped in velvet, his big hand still cupped possessively over your pussy, fingers lazily stroking up and down the dampening silk of your dress as if he's petting a needy little kitten. his other arm tightens around your waist, pulling you harder against him so you can feel every inch of how affected he is too—the thick, heavy ridge of his cock pressing insistently against the small of your back through his loose pants, hot and throbbing like it's got its own heartbeat. “seriously,” he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing the shell before he nips it lightly, making you jolt with a tiny “ah—”. “if that's his standard, no wonder he's out there drowning in mediocrity. meanwhile you're here, all pretty and aching, and we haven't even gotten you out of this dress yet.”

you whimper, a soft, broken “nngh” that you can't hold back as geto's fingers finally slip under the hem of your dress, pushing the fabric up your thighs slow and teasing until his rough palm meets the bare skin just above your thong. the contrast—his calloused warmth against your smooth, shaved legs—makes your hips twitch forward into gojo's grip, chasing more touch like the desperate slut they've been calling you all night. gojo's hands slide down to join the fun, grabbing fistfuls of your ass and squeezing hard enough to leave fingerprints, spreading you just a little so geto has better access.

“feel that?” gojo whispers, voice dropping low and filthy as he grinds his hips forward, letting you feel how impossibly hard he is, the thick length of him dragging against your lower belly. “that's what a real cock feels like when it meets a perfect pussy. no stupid requirements, no fountain bullshit. just wants to be buried inside you until you're crying and clenching and coming all over it.”

geto's fingers finally hook into the thin string of your thong, tugging it aside with zero ceremony, and the cool air hits your slick folds for half a second before his middle finger slides through them—slow, deliberate, gathering wetness from your entrance to your clit in one long, dragging stroke. “fuck,” he breathes, almost reverent, circling your swollen clit once, twice, making your thighs tremble. “listen to her. already so wet just from some kissing and teasing. that idiot really fumbled the bag.”

you moan louder this time, head falling back harder against geto's shoulder as your body goes liquid between them. “mmh— pleaseee,” you manage, voice cracking, not even sure what you're begging for but knowing you need more. your hands scrabble at gojo's shirt, fisting the fabric like it's the only thing keeping you grounded as geto sinks one thick finger inside you without warning—slow, steady, curling just right to stroke that spot that makes your vision spark white.

gojo watches your face like it's the best show on earth, eyes blown wide and dark, licking his lips as he leans in to suck another hickey right over your pulse point. “aww, look at her,” he coos, mean and sweet all at once, one hand coming up to pinch your nipple through the dress until you squeak. “already falling apart and we've barely started. bet we can make you come so hard you forget that loser's name existed.”

geto adds a second finger, scissoring slow and deep, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet dorm room as he pumps them in and out, thumb grinding against your clit in tight circles. “we're gonna ruin you for anyone else, princess,” he promises against your neck, voice soft but edged with that loving menace that makes your pussy clench around his fingers. “no more dumb boys with dumb standards. just us. just this.”

you cry out—a high, needy, “ah, fuck— suguru,” hips rocking shamelessly between them now, chasing the building pressure as gojo drops to his knees in front of you without warning, shoving your dress higher and mouthing at your inner thigh, teeth grazing dangerously close to where geto's fingers are working you open. the slowburn is gone now, replaced by a wildfire licking up your spine, and all you can do is cling to them and let it consume you, moaning their names like prayers as they take you apart piece by stupid, affectionate, filthy piece.

but oh, they are your enemies for all the right, stupid reasons—the kind that started with bickering over mission rankings freshman year and snowballed into years of relentless, mean-spirited teasing that always skates the line between hate and something way too hot to name. they love pushing you, love watching your cheeks burn and your eyes gloss over until you're one sharp word away from actual tears, then swooping in with that soft, affectionate crap that makes it impossible to stay mad. tonight, with you already bruised from that idiot's rejection, they smell blood in the water and decide—without even needing to speak—that yeah, this is the perfect time to be extra fucking relentless.

geto's fingers slide out of you in one cruel, sudden motion, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing, a pathetic little flutter that has you gasping in shock. your eyes fly open, wide and confused, head whipping around to find his face in the dim light. “huh—?” because why the fuck did he stop? his dark eyes are glinting with that particular brand of loving cruelty they both wear so well, the one that's been your personal torment since the day you met these two assholes. he's staring down at you with that half-lidded, dangerous fondness, dark hair falling forward as he leans in and presses the softest, most mocking kiss to your forehead—like he's comforting a kid who skinned her knee.

“not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and syrupy, thumb stroking your cheek like you're something precious he's about to break. “just for research. for fun. let's find out if you really can't squirt… or if you just needed better motivation.”

your stomach drops, heat and dread twisting together, because you know that tone—it's the same one he uses right before he corners you in training and makes you tap out five times in a row just to prove a point.

gojo, synced up like they're sharing one perverted brain cell tonight, lets out a delighted little “yes!” suddenly you're being turned, manhandled with that effortless strength and spins you toward the massive, unmade bed with hands on your hips. the sheets are a tangled mess of navy and black, pillows half on the floor, scattered everywhere from whatever dumb pillow fight they probably had last night, the whole thing smelling like boy and sleep and them. gojo's hands are on your hips, urging you forward until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. “dress off, princess,” he demands, already yanking at the hem himself, fingers brushing your thighs in teasing little grazes. “let's see the full outfit. come on, come on, don't be shy now.”

you huff but obey—because arguing feels pointless when your body's already humming like a live wire—sliding the crimson straps off your shoulders, letting the dress pool at your feet in a whisper of fabric. the cool air hits your bare skin, nipples tightening instantly under their hungry stares. gojo whistles long and low, dramatic as ever, eyes raking over the black lace thong and matching bra like he's appraising a masterpiece. “fuuuck, look at you. all shaved and pretty and wrapped up like a present.” his fingers hook into the waistband of your thong, tugging impatiently. “these too. off. now. don't be shy—we've seen tits before, promise.”

you huff—half annoyed, half turned on but obey because arguing feels pointless when your body's already humming like a live wire—and shimmy out of the crimson silk, letting the dress pool at your feet in a whisper of fabric. the cool air hits your bare skin, nipples tightening instantly under their hungry stares. the second your matching black lace thong and bra come into view, gojo whistles long and low, dramatic as ever, eyes raking over the black lace thong and matching bra like he's appraising a masterpiece, spinning you slow like you're on display. “fuuuck, look at these. shaved, wrapped up in slutty little bows—someone was hoping to get fucked tonight.” his fingers snap the strap of your thong against your hip, the sting making you yelp. “these too. off. now. don't be shy—we've seen tits before, promise. i wanna see tits.”

you roll your eyes but obey, unhooking the bra and sliding the thong down your legs until you're completely naked, flushed and trembling between two fully dressed idiots who look way too pleased with themselves. it's unfair—gojo in his black shirt and sweats, geto still in that tank that clings to every muscle. it's unfair, it's humiliating, and it's doing horrible things to the heat pooling between your thighs.

geto drifts over to the nightstand drawer, pulling it open with a casual rattle that makes your heart kick. he lifts out a thick, curved wand vibrator—shiny black silicone, clearly expensive and mean—and a smaller bullet vibe for good measure,  with a flared tip clearly designed for g-spots and ruin. your voice comes out smaller than you'd like. “suguru… what exactly are you planning to do with those?”

he turns back, smirk slow and filthy, holding the wand up like a trophy. “told you. scientific experiment. wanna see if that idiot was right… or if we can make you squirt so hard you forget his name. purely scientific.”

before you can protest, gojo's behind you again, his blindfold already off his face and dangling from his fingers, the soft black fabric warm from his skin. in one smooth, practiced motion he loops it over your eyes and ties it snug at the back of your head. everything goes dark—pitch black, no hints of light, no shape, just sudden, overwhelming nothingness that spikes panic through your chest.

“satoru—what the fuck—why are you blindfolding me?!” you squeak, hands flying up to tug at the knot, heart racing. “take it off, i don't—”

they both burst out laughing—gojo's high and manic, geto's low and fond—like you've told the world's cutest joke. “shhh, relax, sweetheart,” gojo coos right against your ear, hands sliding down your arms to calm you even as his voice drips with mockery. catching your wrists and pinning them gently to your sides. “it's better this way— it's more fun this way. no seeing, just feeling—feel everything. no peeking, no distractions. just us and that pretty pussy. trust us.”

“yeah,” geto adds from somewhere lower, voice dripping with fake reassurance, “stop freaking out or we'll have to tie your hands too. be a good girl.” i'm a good girl.

you whine, a soft, frustrated “nngh”, that only makes them chuckle harder, but you stop fighting because the darkness is already doing things to you—heightening every sense until the air feels thick, every breath louder. you feel the mattress dip as gojo guides you to sit on the edge, his chest presses against your back a second later—he's climbed behind you, sitting up against the headboard and pulling you between his spread legs so your back is flush to his front, his hard cock nestled hot and heavy against the curve of your ass through his sweatpants. his hands splay over your stomach, fingers tracing lazy circles, holding you open and pinned.

geto settles on the floor between your legs—you hear the soft thud of his knees hitting the rug, feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your inner thighs. “come here, baby,” he murmurs, big hands wrapping around your thighs and tugging you down the bed until your ass is right at the edge, legs draped over his broad shoulders. “spread for me. wider. there we go… fuck, look how pretty she is.”

you can't see a thing. just feel—feel geto's rough palms keeping your thighs forced open, the cool air kissing your slick, exposed folds; feel the anticipation coil so tight in your belly you're already trembling; gojo's chest rising and falling against your back—heart thudding against your spine, his cock twitching every time you squirm; his fingers tracing lazy, teasing circles over your ribs and stomach, brushing just shy of your breasts.

geto hums, satisfied and mean. “let's find out, yeah?”

the vibrator clicks on with a low, ominous buzz that fills the quiet room like a threat, and before you can brace yourself the rounded head is pressed right against your clit—steady, relentless pressure that has your hips jerking up with a sharp, broken “ah— fuck!” you cry out instantly, hips bucking hard, the sudden intensity ripping a sharp, broken moan from your throat as pleasure slams through you white-hot and overwhelming.

gojo laughs softly behind you, one hand sliding up to cup your breast and roll your nipple between his fingers. “there we go. no squirting yet, but listen to those pretty sounds. we're just getting started, baby. hold still… or don't. makes it more fun when you thrash.”

the vibe circles slow, then faster, geto's free hand coming up to spread your lips wider, exposing every sensitive inch to the torture. your world narrows to vibration and heat and their voices—sweet, filthy, affectionate torment promising they're nowhere near done finding out exactly what your body can do tonight.

geto circles the wand slow, then presses harder, the vibrations sinking deep into your clit until your thighs shake against his grip. “feel that? all for science,” he teases, voice affectionate and utterly merciless. “gonna keep you right here until we figure it out… or until you're crying and begging. whichever comes first.”

they are so fucking relentless—like twin devils who've decided your body is their new favorite toy and breaking you is the only acceptable outcome tonight. the wand never stays in one place long enough for you to chase the high; geto wields it like he's dumbledore with a particularly filthy spell, swirling it in tight, maddening circles over your clit one second, then dragging it down to buzz against your entrance the next, then pulling it away completely just to watch you whine and buck into empty air. every time that coil in your belly tightens, every time your breath hitches and your pussy flutters with the promise of something huge, he eases off—slows the vibe to a teasing hum or lifts it entirely, letting the sudden loss punch the air from your lungs in a frustrated, trembling sob.

“nngh— please, fuck. . .” you cry out, voice cracking high and desperate, hips chasing the wand like a pathetic little puppy. your thighs are already shaking uncontrollably, muscles jumping and quivering against geto's shoulders, slick dripping down your ass to soak the sheets beneath you.

geto hums, low and thoughtful, like he's conducting an actual experiment. “hmm, not yet. she’s getting close though—feel her twitching?” he murmurs, and you feel one of his big hands leave your thigh, the sudden absence making that leg slip off his shoulder and fall toward the bed. before you can close it even an inch, gojo's hand is there—long fingers wrapping around your thigh from behind, yanking it back open and pinning it wide against your chest so you're spread obscenely, pussy on full display for geto's torment. asshole.

“gotcha,” gojo chuckles right against your ear, breath hot and teasing, his grip iron-strong as he holds you splayed for his best friend. “wider, baby. suguru needs room to work his magic.”

geto takes the invitation immediately—of course he does—pressing the wand harder now, sliding it lower to nudge right against your entrance, letting the thick head buzz just inside your hole without pushing in, just vibrating against your sensitive walls until your back arches off gojo's chest with a broken wail. "ahh— suguru, pleaseee," you sob, eyes squeezed shut so tight behind the blindfold that you see stars anyway, hands scrabbling blindly for something, anything to hold onto. your fingers finally find purchase behind you, nails digging into the warm skin of gojo's neck as you clutch him like he's the only solid thing in the spinning dark.

"aww, look at her," gojo coos, voice all fake sympathy and real amusement, tilting his head to nip at your jaw while his free hand roams your stomach, tracing the trembling muscles there. "shaking like a leaf already. poor little pussy can't decide if it wants to come or cry first."

"both," geto answers for you, voice calm and cruel as he pulls the wand away again right as your hips start grinding down desperately, leaving you empty and aching. "definitely both. listen to her—whining like we stole her candy."

you are whining—high, wet, pathetic sounds spilling out with every breath, "please, please, don't stop, i was so close. . . " tears actually gathering behind the blindfold now because they're edging you so ruthlessly, building and building like a fucking Fix-it Felix, Jr— that pressure until it's a physical ache low in your belly, then ripping it away like it's a game, crumble like they are Wreck it Ralph. your whole body is shaking uncontrollably, thighs spasming in their grips, pussy clenching around nothing so hard it hurts.

gojo's cock is a steel bar against your lower back, throbbing every time you moan his name or dig your nails deeper into his neck. "fuck, you're cute when you're desperate," he whispers, lips brushing your temple in a kiss that's way too soft for how mean they're being. "gonna keep you right here on the edge all night if we have to. science takes time, sweetheart." science my ass.

geto drags the wand up again, pressing it directly to your swollen clit and cranking the speed higher—merciless, unrelenting vibration that has you screaming almost instantly, a raw, “fuck— ah, ah, ah—!" ripping from your throat as your hips jerk wildly. he holds it there for five agonizing seconds, ten, letting the pleasure crest so high you're dizzy with it—then pulls it away again, just as you're teetering right on the brink.

"no—no no no—pleaseee," you sob outright this time, actual tears soaking into the blindfold, body thrashing between them as the ruined orgasm pulses through you without release, leaving you wrecked and empty and shaking harder than ever.

geto leans in—you feel his hair brush your inner thigh—and presses a soft, affectionate kiss to your dripping folds like he's praising you for taking it so well. "good girl," he murmurs against your pussy, voice vibrating through your clit. "we're getting somewhere. just a little more data. . ."

gojo tightens his arm around your waist, holding you steady as you tremble and cry and beg, his lips brushing your ear in that loving, menacing way only he can manage. "shhh, we've got you. not done playing yet. gonna make you squirt so hard you see stars behind that blindfold—or we're gonna die trying. either way, you're ours tonight."

and they dive back in—wand buzzing to life again, gojo's fingers pinching your nipples in time with geto's ruthless patterns, their voices overlapping in filthy praise and mockery as they edge you over and over and over, relentless and mean and so stupidly affectionate about every sobbing, shaking second of it.

after what feels like hours of their stupid, relentless edging game—your body reduced to a quivering, sweat-drenched wreck, blindfold clinging wetly to your tear-streaked cheeks, every muscle twitching like a live wire, voice hoarse from begging and sobbing their names in broken loops—they finally take pity. or maybe they just decide the data is conclusive, or finally decide you've suffered enough for their little ‘experiment’. . . geto presses the thick head of the wand flush against your clit again, no more games, no more teasing circles or cruel pull-aways, just brutal, steady pressure on the highest setting he'd dared so far— high-speed vibration that sinks straight into your core like a lightning strike. the buzz so intense it feels like it's vibrating your bones.

gojo's grip on your thigh tightens, his other hand back to sliding up to pinch and roll your nipple in time with the rhythm, whispering filthy little encouragements right against your ear like, “come on, baby, give it to us. soak him. show us how much that dumb fucker missed.”

the orgasm doesn't creep up—it crashes, it detonates. your whole body locks up, spine snapping into a harsh arch as the pleasure rips through you like a tidal wave. one second you're teetering on that agonizing edge again, hips grinding desperately, and the next your entire body seizes up with a violent, full-body shudder.

“fuck— ah, ah, aah— i'm—!” you scream, the sound raw and ugly and perfect, back arching off gojo's chest so hard your spine bows like a drawn bowstring. your pussy clenches hard, then gushes—a hot, forceful rush of liquid that sprays out in messy arcs, splattering geto's face and soaking the front of his tank top in seconds. he doesn't flinch, doesn't pull away; if anything he leans into it, mouth open just enough that some of it hits his tongue, a low, satisfied groan rumbling out of him as he keeps the wand pinned right where it hurts-so-good.

you squirt and squirt, longer than you thought possible, wave after wave, thighs shaking so violently gojo has to brace you or you'd thrash right off the bed or to keep you from kicking geto in the face. “nngh— stop, stop, too much,” you sob, actual tears streaming down your cheeks under the blindfold now, but geto doesn't care—doesn't even pretend to.

he keeps the wand exactly where it is, buzzing mercilessly against your oversensitive clit and laps at your dripping folds between the sprays like he's savoring every drop— broad, filthy strokes of his tongue dragging from your spasming entrance up to your clit, swirling around the buzzing toy like he's trying to drink you dry. his tongue is hot and rough, dragging from your entrance up to swirl around the vibe, pushing you straight into a second, even more brutal climax before the first has fully faded. the overstimulation is excruciating, pleasure twisted into something almost painful, and you scream again, high and broken, “no, no, ahh— fuck, suguru!" as he assaults your pussy without a shred of remorse.

“that's it, pretty girl,” he praises between licks, voice muffled and vibrating against your folds, hands gripping your ass to tilt you higher into his mouth. “give me everything. fucking drown me—good girl, so good."

it isn't long before the second wave hits—the second squirt is obscene—stronger, messier, your body barely recovered from the first before hitting geto's chest in thick streams. geto finally pulls his face back just in time to watch it, eyes dark and hungry, lips shiny with you as he cranks the wand to its absolute highest setting without warning. the sudden spike in vibration rips a scream from your throat, "suguru— no, no, please, i can't— ahh!"

geto hums, tossing the wand aside for a second but not done—not even close. his fingers replace it immediately, rubbing fast, tight circles over your throbbing clit, slick and relentless, forcing the last spurts out of you in messy little bursts. “come on, baby, one more. empty it all out for us.”

the squirt erupts in a powerful stream, clear and hot, splashing across his chest and collarbones, rolling down in rivulets that disappear into his waistband. gojo whistles low and impressed behind you, fingers digging into your thighs as he watches over your shoulder.

your hips jerking so hard your ass lifts clean off the bed, whole lower body suspended in the air, leaning entirely against gojo's chest as you shake and gush and fall apart all over again.

“holy shit,” gojo laughs, breathless and delighted, nuzzling your neck. “that idiot you went on a date with? he'd be eating his own words right now if he saw this. ‘girls who can't squirt’—yeah, right. look at you, turning suguru into a fucking fountain show. guy must feel so stupid, passing up all this."

you think—hope—that after this you'll finally get peace, get to float down into that soft, boneless quiet. but no. these are your enemies, after all, mean and perverted to the core, and they love nothing more than pushing until you're crying for real.

gojo's hand comes down in a sharp, wet slap against your hypersensitive pussy—light enough not to bruise, but stinging like fire on raw nerves. you jolt with a strangled wail, another surprised gush squirting out in response, and he does it again—slap, slap—each one perfectly timed to make you spray more, body convulsing violently between them. "satoruuuu— stop, please, i can't—" you sob, but it's useless; your hips lift clean off the bed on instinct, whole lower body suspended in the air from the force of the shaking, leaning entirely against gojo's chest as your ass clenches and your thighs spasm out of control.

one hand flies forward blindly, fingers tangling desperately in geto's damp hair, tugging hard for any kind of anchor as the pleasure-pain overwhelms you. the other claws backward, nails digging deep into gojo's forearm where he's still holding you open, leaving red crescents he's definitely going to brag about later. you're a complete mess—whimpering, shaking, squirting in weak little pulses now with every slap until there's nothing left but tremors and the wet sounds of your ruined pussy.

gojo laughs, breathless and delighted. the impact forces another surprised spurt out of you, smaller but no less humiliating, and you wail as your hips buck involuntarily. "fuck, look at that," he croons, voice dripping with smug affection, slapping again—once, twice—each one making you squirt a little more until your thighs are trembling so badly you can't hold the position anymore. your ass collapses back onto the soaked sheets with a wet thud, body going completely limp against gojo's front, chest heaving, little aftershock twitches rippling through you every few seconds.

finally, mercifully, gojo stops the slapping. his fingers turn gentle instead, tracing soft, soothing figure-eights over your clit, easing you down with slow, feather-light strokes that make you twitch and whine but in a softer way now. "shhh, there we go," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your sweaty temple. "good girl. fuck, you're perfect."

geto finally—finally—clicks the vibrator off and tosses it aside fully, the sudden silence deafening except for your ragged breathing and the wet sounds of him licking his lips. he leans in again, pressing soft, reverent kisses to your inner thighs, your fluttering entrance, your abused clit like he's apologizing and praising all at once.

"good fucking girl," he murmurs against your skin, voice rough with want, hands stroking soothing patterns over your shaking legs. "told you we could make you. that guy you went out with? he'd be kicking himself so hard right now if he knew how much you can squirt when someone's actually competent."

gojo snickers, nuzzling into your damp temple, fingers idly tracing the mess on your stomach where some of it splashed back. "seriously. imagine his dumb face—'i don't fuck girls who can't squirt'—and here you are, turning suguru into a human sprinkler twice in a row. idiot probably couldn't find a g-spot if it had a neon sign." he slaps your pussy one last playful time, lighter now, just to watch you jolt and whimper pathetically. "bet he'd cry harder than you did if he saw this."

you can't even form words—just little broken sobs and whimpers, body utterly spent and boneless between them, blindfold still on, world reduced to the feel of their hands petting you down from the high. geto climbs up onto the bed properly, knees slotting between your trembling legs, hands sliding under your knees to push them up and back until you're nearly folded in half—ass lifted, pussy still dripping and exposed.

he lets one leg slide off his shoulder gently, then reaches up to finally—finally—untie the blindfold. the fabric falls away and light floods in, dim and warm from the dorm lamps, but still blinding after so long in darkness. you blink sluggishly, eyes watery and unfocused, vision hazy with lust and exhaustion and that floaty, drunk kind of bliss. everything feels soft around the edges, like you're underwater—geto's face swimming into view first, hair damp and falling forward in dark strands, a few droplets still clinging to his lashes and lips, that affectionate menace softened into something almost tender.

he leans down slow, presses the gentlest butterfly kisses to your forehead—one, two, three—lips lingering each time like he's tasting the salt of your tears and sweat. "there you go," he whispers, voice rough but impossibly soft now, thumb stroking your cheek. "hi, pretty girl. you back with us?"

you laugh—it's breathless, watery, a little hysterical around the edges—and nod slow, words thick and fuzzy in your throat. "yeah... so good. fuck, so good."

gojo chuckles behind you, arms loosening to cradle you properly now, one hand petting your hair like you're a kitten. "look at her, all fucked out and smiley. cutest thing ever."

"proud of you, princess," geto adds quietly, crawling up to cage you between them, both of them still fully dressed while you're a naked, shivering mess covered in your own slick. "experiment success. conclusion: you're perfect exactly how you are, and that guy can go drown in a puddle for all we care."

you manage a weak, watery laugh that turns into another hiccuping sob, burying your face in geto's neck while he spoons you from the front, their arms wrapping around you in a tangle of warmth and lingering menace. they're not done with you—not even close—but for now they let you come down, murmuring sweet, stupid, filthy praise into your skin until the shaking stops and all that's left is the slow, heavy thud of three hearts beating way too fast in the quiet dorm room, sheets absolutely ruined and no one giving a single damn.

for a moment it's just that—soft and sweet, their hands gentle, voices low and fond, letting you float in the afterglow while your body twitches with little aftershocks. geto's still between your legs, chest glistening with you, tank top absolutely ruined, and gojo's cock is still hard as steel against your back, but they're giving you this tiny pocket of peace, murmuring praise like "did so well for us" and "perfect little mess" and "love how you shake when you come undone."

but of course it doesn't last. they're mean, after all—lovingly, affectionately, stupidly mean.

geto's warm smile twists slow into something wicked again, eyes glinting as he picks up the discarded wand, still slick with you, and bops you lightly on the nose with it—boop—like it's a toy hammer. "aww, look at that face," he coos, voice dripping with fake innocence. "all hazy and happy. but now that we've proven you can squirt like a fucking champ... think you're ready to take some real cock, princess?"

he tosses the vibrator away from within reach, somewhere across the room—it lands with a thud on a pile of laundry—and leans in closer, hands sliding up your thighs to spread you wider again, cocky grin sharp and hungry. gojo laughs high behind you, fingers dipping down to tease your dripping entrance, already plotting round two.

because peace? rest? not tonight. not with these two. they're just getting started ruining you properly, and the look in their eyes says you're not leaving this bed until you've forgotten every dumb boy who ever made you doubt how fucking incredible you are.

especially now when geto rises from the bed like some kind of dark god finally shedding the last of his mortal clothes, tank top peeled off and tossed somewhere into the corner with a wet slap—still soaked from your earlier mess—and his sweatpants follow, kicked aside without ceremony. he's butt naked now, all lean muscle and cursed energy humming under inked skin, cock standing proud and thick in his hand as he strokes it once, slow and lazy, precum already beading at the flushed tip like he's been edging himself just watching you fall apart. his hair is still damp, strands clinging to his forehead and neck, and that wicked, affectionate smirk hasn't left his face once.

behind you—no, under you—gojo has maneuvered you both to the edge of the bed, his long legs planted firm on the floor like he's anchoring the whole damn world. he's naked too now, shirt and sweats vanished in that effortless way he does everything, pale skin and ridiculous abs on full display, cock hot and impossibly hard against the curve of your ass. his hands are on your hips, big and steady, guiding you to straddle him reverse—back to his chest, thighs spread wide over his—so you're sitting pretty on his lap like a throne made of pure torment. the position leaves you completely exposed, pussy still twitching and dripping from everything they just did to you, and gojo doesn't waste time lining himself up, the fat head of his cock nudging your entrance, slick and insistent.

but god, you're sensitive—every little brush feels like fire and electricity and too much all at once, your folds swollen and raw from the wand and the slapping and the squirting until you're a whimpering mess before he's even inside. “wait— fuck, satoru, i'm so sensitive, please, slow. . . " you complain, voice cracking high and pathetic, hands flailing for something to hold as your thighs already start shaking again. they don't listen. of course they don't and your whining only makes their eyes gleam darker.

gojo chuckles low against your ear, breath hot and teasing as he circles his tip through your folds, gathering wetness just to torture you more. "aww, poor baby, too sensitive? but look how you're still dripping for it. you can take it, princess—we know you can. you've been begging with that pussy all night."

geto steps closer, still stroking himself slow, thumb swiping over his leaking slit as he watches gojo tease you. "yeah. . . don't be weak now," he adds, voice all velvet cruelty and fake sympathy. "you just squirted like a champion—twice, or three times? this is the reward. real cock, like we promised. be good and take it."

you curse under your breath, but your hips are already rocking back instinctively, chasing the pressure despite the overstimulation, and gojo takes that as permission. he pushes in—slow at first, letting you feel every thick inch stretching you open, your walls fluttering wildly around him from how sensitive you are. it's too much and perfect and overwhelming, the drag burning in the best way until he bottoms out with a final thrust that seats him deep, balls pressed against your ass.

a full, broken whimper tears out of you, “fuck, satoru, you're—" your thighs shaking harder now, weak and jelly-like as the overwhelming fullness hits you all at once. your hands scramble blindly forward for support, fingers finding geto's hips, then his hand, clutching desperately as you try to breathe through it.

geto threads his fingers with yours immediately, squeezing gentle and steady, letting you grip as hard as you need while you adjust. "there you go," he murmurs, soft for a second, thumb stroking your knuckles even as his other hand keeps lazily pumping his cock. "breathe, baby. you've got him all the way in. look at you—taking it so pretty."

both of them chuckle at the same time—gojo's high and unhinged, geto's low and fond—when your legs keep trembling like you might collapse any second.

"so weak already," gojo teases, hands sliding up to grip your waist, lifting you just an inch before dropping you back down slow, making you feel every ridge of him. "one orgasm—or three—and you're shaking like a leaf. cute."

"fuck you both," you manage to gasp out, voice wobbly and hoarse, but there's no heat in it—just needy frustration as your head falls back against gojo's shoulder.

another soft whisper of a moan slips out, "mmh," as gojo starts moving your hips for you, slow ups and downs that have his cock dragging against your oversensitive walls in the most filthy, perfect way. geto steps even closer at the sound, until you're face-to-cock with him, the musky heat of him filling your senses, precum dripping in a slow bead down his shaft.

but he doesn't force it—not yet. instead he lets you lean forward, forehead pressing against the warm, hard plane of his stomach, breath coming in hot little pants against his skin as you try to ground yourself. his free hand comes up to pet your hair, fingers threading gentle and soothing, nails scratching lightly at your scalp while his other keeps stroking himself right in front of your face, slow and deliberate, the wet sound of it mixing with your whimpers and the slick slide of gojo inside you.

"good girl," geto praises softly, voice rough with want, tilting your head just enough so your cheek brushes the side of his cock, leaving a shiny streak of precum on your skin. "just relax. let satoru fuck you open a little more. then you'll take me too—gonna fill you from both ends until you're crying again, but the happy kind this time, yeah?"

gojo laughs breathlessly behind you, hips starting to roll up to meet the slow drop of yours, pace picking up just enough to make you moan louder. "fuck, she's clenching already. hear that, suguru? all that big talk about being too sensitive, and her pussy's trying to milk me dry."

you whimper against geto's stomach, thighs still shaking, hand squeezing his tighter as the pleasure builds again—slow, deep, relentless—sandwiched between your two favorite enemies who are finally, finally giving you what you've needed all night, mean and sweet and stupidly affectionate about every second of it.

geto lets gojo have his moment, because that's what best friends do—share the spotlight, especially when the spotlight is a trembling, cockdrunk girl impaled on one of their dicks and making the prettiest broken sounds against the other's stomach. he's patient like that, a saint in pervert's clothing, standing there with his hand wrapped loose around his throbbing cock, stroking slow and steady, thumb swiping over the slick head every few pumps to spread the precum that's been leaking nonstop since you first squirted all over him.

his dark eyes are heavy-lidded, fixed on the scene in front of him like it's the best porn he's ever seen: you, forehead pressed to his abs, lips parted and drooling a little onto his skin from how overwhelmed you are, while gojo's hips roll up slow and deep from underneath, fucking into you with that lazy, relentless rhythm that makes your pussy hug him tighter and tighter.

every thrust drags a new sound out of you—high, wet moans that turn into little cries, your breath hitching hot and damp against geto's stomach, leaving shiny trails of saliva that cool in the dorm air. it's filthy and perfect, and geto doesn't mind the mess one bit; if anything it makes his cock twitch harder in his fist, another bead of precum dripping down his shaft as he watches gojo's face twist in pure ecstasy. gojo's head is tipped back against the headboard for a second, white lashes fluttering, mouth open on a silent groan before he lets out this low, drawn-out "fuuuck" that rumbles through his chest and into your back.

geto hears it all—your moans climbing higher, gojo's breathing getting rougher, the wet slap of skin where gojo's lifting and dropping your hips just enough to make his cock drag against every sensitive spot inside you. it's intimate in the dumbest, dirtiest way, and geto is patient, stroking himself to the rhythm of gojo's thrusts, letting his best friend chase that edge while he enjoys the show. but god, the sounds you're making—those broken little whimpers vibrating against his skin, the way your fingers keep flexing in his hand like you're barely holding on—are starting to chip away at that saintly restraint.

he's heard gojo fuck before, plenty of times actually, thin dorm walls and all that. random girls giggling their way in, then moaning their way out hours later, gojo's voice carrying through the plaster with cocky laughter and the occasional dramatic groan. but this? this is different. you've got gojo making sounds geto has never heard from him—deeper, more desperate, like you're pulling them straight from his soul. his eyes are rolling back now, blue peeking white under half-closed lids, lips parted on gasps that turn into your name chanted like a prayer.

geto snorts, low and amused, dark hair falling into his eyes as he tilts his head. "that good, huh?" he asks, voice rough with his own want, hand still moving slow on his cock. "never heard you sound this pathetic, satoru."

gojo laughs—breathless, wrecked, absolutely unhinged—as he snaps his hips up harder, making you cry out sharp and sudden against geto's stomach. "fuck off, suguru— she's... nngh... she's perfect. like her pussy was made for me. gonna wife this shit up, keep her full forever—romantic as fuck, right?"

it's the dumbest, most gojo thing anyone's ever said—stupidly romantic and utterly disgusting all at once, like he's proposing marriage mid-stroke while balls-deep in you. geto bark-laughs, head shaking, but his cock jumps in his hand because yeah, he gets it. you're clenching again, pussy fluttering wild around gojo from the praise or the thrust or both, and the sound you make is so cockdrunk and ruined that geto feels his patience snap like a frayed wire.

you can't even respond to gojo's idiot declaration—just another wet, open-mouthed moan against geto's skin, drool pooling at the corner of your lips, eyes glassy and unfocused like your brain's checked out and left your body on autopilot. you're too far gone, too stupid on cock, and seeing you like that—knowing he helped put you there—makes geto greedy in a way that's almost mean.

he lets go of your hand gently, both of his sliding up now—one fisting your hair at the roots, firm but not painful, angling your face away from his stomach and up toward his cock. the other guides the flushed, leaking head to your lips, slapping it once, twice, wet and heavy against your mouth, leaving shiny streaks of precum across your cheek and lower lip. "open up, princess," he murmurs, voice velvet and dangerous, thumb stroking your jaw like encouragement. "you can multitask, right? been taking satoru so well—now take me too. greedy girls get both."

you whimper—high and needy, muffled against his cock as he taps it again, smearing more precum over your lips until they glisten. your tongue darts out instinctively, licking at the tip, tasting salt and him, and geto groans low, hips twitching forward just enough to slide the head past your lips. "mmh—" you moan around him, the vibration making his thighs tense, and gojo laughs breathlessly behind you, hands tightening on your hips to speed up the slow grind.

"fuck, look at her," gojo gasps, voice cracking as your pussy clamps down harder from the new stretch in your mouth. "taking both like she was born for it. our perfect little slut."

geto slides deeper—slow, letting you adjust, feeling your tongue flatten against the underside of him as you suck messily, drool already spilling down your chin to drip onto your chest. his hand in your hair pets gentle now, affectionate and guiding, while gojo keeps bouncing you on his lap, the two of them finding a rhythm that has you stuffed full from both ends, moaning nonstop around geto's cock while your body shakes and clenches and drips between them.

it's overwhelming and perfect and so stupidly loving—the way geto's thumb wipes the drool from your chin even as he fucks your mouth deeper, the way gojo's whispering absolute filth about keeping you forever while his hands bruise your hips, both of them watching you fall apart with that mean, fond gleam in their eyes like you're the best thing that's ever happened to their dumb, perverted hearts. and maybe you are.

they keep fucking you like it's a competition to see who can wreck you sweeter—gojo from below, hips rolling up in that lazy, deep grind that makes his cock kiss your cervix on every upstroke, hands gripping your waist like he's steering a particularly fun ride. geto in front, feeding you his cock inch by thick inch, the salty taste of him flooding your tongue while your drool spills down your chin in messy strings. the room is nothing but wet sounds—skin slapping skin, your muffled moans vibrating around geto, gojo's breathy laughter mixing with low groans every time your pussy clamps down like it's trying to trap him forever.

they're high on praise tonight, drunk on how perfectly you fall apart between them. "fuck, listen to her," gojo gasps, voice cracking as your walls flutter again. "pussy's singing for me—nngh—good girl, keep squeezing like that." geto hums agreement, eyes dark and half-lidded as he watches his cock disappear between your swollen lips. "taking us so well, princess. look at you—mouth full, pussy full, still greedy for more."

geto's hand tightens in your hair—fingers twisting at the roots just hard enough to sting sweet—before his other slides forward, long fingers wrapping around your throat in a firm, possessive collar. not squeezing hard, just there, thumb pressing lightly against your pulse point so he can feel how fast your heart's racing for them. the pressure makes you groan deep in your chest, "mmph." the vibration humming straight into geto's cock, and your pussy reacts instantly, clamping down hard on gojo like a vice.

gojo jolts behind you, hips stuttering as he lets out a wrecked, "fuuuuck, yes." his nails digging crescents into your hips. "did you feel that, suguru? she just tried to milk me dry when you choked her a little. kinky little thing."

geto definitely feels it—feels his own cock sliding deeper into the wet heat of your throat, feels the way your muscles flutter and swallow around him every time gojo thrusts up. it pulls a rough groan from his chest, low and filthy, hips twitching forward involuntarily. "shit— yeahh. . . i felt it. throat's doing the same thing. greedy on both ends."

he tugs your hair sharper, angling your head back just enough to push deeper, sliding past your tongue until the head nudges the back of your throat. he holds you there—patient but merciless—watching your eyes water, feeling your throat spasm open and close around him in panicked little swallows.

"that's it," he praises, voice gravel-rough with affection, thumb stroking your cheek even as he keeps you pinned. "relax your throat, baby—fuck, there we go. feel you opening up for me. perfect fucking girl." he only pulls back when your chest starts heaving, when the first real choke bubbles up around his cock—slow, letting you gasp wetly around him before he slides out with a filthy string of spit connecting your lips to his tip.

you cough hard, collapsing forward against gojo's shoulder as you suck in desperate breaths, face messy with drool and tears and precum. "you—cough—fucking asshole, i couldn't breathe," you rasp, voice hoarse and wrecked, but your hips are still rolling back onto gojo like your body can't decide if it wants to fight or fuck.

geto just hums, low and amused, petting your hair once like you're a bratty cat. "now you can," he says simply, tugging your head back up by the roots until your lips brush his cock again. "open up, princess. we're not done."

you do—because of course you do—tongue lolling out obediently as he slides back in, easier this time, your throat already pliant from the abuse. gojo keeps fucking you through it, slow and deep, cooing soft praise into your ear about how pretty you look choking on suguru while riding him.

after a while—minutes? hours? time's meaningless when you're stuffed full like this—geto pulls out with a wet pop, hand stroking your cheek as he looks over your head at gojo. "switch," he says, voice calm but edged with hunger.

gojo whines immediately—high, dramatic, ridiculous. "nooo, i'm just getting into it—fuck, her pussy's perfect right now, all swollen and hot—"

geto snorts, already pulling his cock from your mouth with a slick slide. "you've been balls-deep in her pussy for ages, satoru. my turn. if you don't wanna share, go fuck your fist like a big boy."

gojo groans long and suffering, but he obeys—hands sliding to your ass, giving it one sharp, resounding slap that makes you yelp around nothing and your pussy clench on empty air. he spreads the cheek, presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the stinging skin like an apology, then grumbles as he lifts you off his cock with a filthy wet sound. you whimper at the loss—high and pathetic—legs shaking harder now that you're not filled.

geto wraps an arm around your waist immediately, strong and steady, hauling you up to stand on wobbly feet. "up, baby," he murmurs, turning you around slow until you're face-to-face with gojo's dick—glistening with your slick, flushed angry red and twitching in his fist as he strokes himself lazily by the bed. gojo grins down at you, all sharp teeth and affection, thumb sliding into your mouth to press on your tongue. "hallo again, baby," he coos, using his cock to tap your nose lightly—boop, boop—like it's a game. "miss me already?"

geto snorts behind you, hands nudging your thighs apart wider, wider, until your legs are spread obscenely and your knees threaten to buckle. "spread, princess," he orders softly, voice gentle but firm. when your thighs start trembling harder, threatening to give out, he presses his chest to your back, arm tightening around your waist to hold you up. "no, you can do it. just a bit more—there we go. good girl."

he lines himself up slow—thick head nudging your dripping entrance, gathering your wetness before pushing in with one smooth, deep thrust that has you crying out around gojo's thumb. gojo pulls it out with a pop, replacing it immediately with his cock, sliding into your mouth as geto bottoms out behind you.

sandwiched again—geto buried to the hilt in your pussy, gojo feeding you his slick-coated cock until your lips stretch wide around him. they find their rhythm fast, gojo's hands in your hair now, geto's arm banded across your stomach, both of them moving like they've done this a thousand times— maybe in dreams, maybe in fantasy, but now it's real and overwhelming and so stupidly loving.

"fuck, taste yourself on me?" gojo groans, hips rocking shallow into your mouth. "sweetest thing ever."

geto thrusts deeper, hand sliding up to cup your breast, pinching your nipple in time with his strokes. "pussy's even tighter from this side," he mutters against your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin. "gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby. just us from now on."

and you believe him—believe both of them—moaning broken around gojo's cock as they fuck you standing, legs shaking, body held up only by their strength and greed and that mean, affectionate way they have of never letting you fall.

after a while, the rhythm settles into something hypnotic and brutal—geto behind you, cock buried deep in your pussy with every slow, deliberate thrust that drags against your oversensitive walls like he's trying to map every inch of you from the inside; gojo in front, feeding his slick-coated dick into your mouth in shallow, teasing pumps that make you choke and drool and moan around him like a desperate little thing.

your legs are barely holding you up anymore, thighs trembling nonstop, knees threatening to buckle with every roll of geto's hips, but his arm banded across your waist keeps you pinned upright, impaled and helpless between them. the dorm air is thick with the smell of sex—sweat and slick and precum—and the sounds are obscene: wet slaps from behind, gagging whimpers from your throat, their mixed groans overlapping in filthy harmony.

geto starts losing it first, the patience he's been clinging to finally cracking like thin ice. it begins with a low groan rumbling from his chest, deeper than before, eyes fluttering half-shut as his head tips back for a second. then his eyes roll—just like gojo's did earlier—white peeking under dark lashes as your pussy clamps down on him again, fluttering wild and greedy from gojo's cock nudging the back of your throat. "fuuuuck," he breathes, voice rough and wrecked, hips stuttering for the first time. "okay, i get it now. i fucking get why you were making those stupid sounds, satoru. this pussy—shit—it's heaven. gripping me like it doesn't want me to leave."

gojo laughs breathlessly around a moan, fingers tightening in your hair as he watches geto's composure shatter over your shoulder. "told you, asshole. she's unreal. wait till she comes again—gonna suck your soul right out."

geto doesn't answer with words—just a rough, affectionate growl as his hands slide up your arms, grabbing your wrists and pinning them behind your back in one strong grip, arching your spine and forcing your chest out. the new angle changes everything; his cock hits deeper, harder, dragging against that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyelids even with gojo still fucking your mouth. "hold still, princess," geto mutters against your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin before he bites down lightly. "gonna fuck you proper now."

and he does—merciless. hips snapping forward faster, harder, the wet slap of his balls against your ass echoing loud in the room as he rails you standing, your body jolting forward onto gojo's cock with every thrust. you choke around gojo, "mmph— guh. . . " drool spilling down your chin in thick strings, tears streaking your cheeks from the overwhelming fullness. your pussy's making the filthiest sounds, squelching wet and loud, and geto groans like he's dying, eyes rolling again as he pounds into you.

"nngh— fuck, take it, take it," he pants, voice cracking with affection and menace. "pussy's so fucking good—milking me already. you love this, don't you? stuffed from both ends like our perfect little toy."

you can't answer properly—just muffled, cockdrunk moans around gojo, your tongue swirling sloppy and desperate because it's all you can do. gojo's hips start moving faster too, matching geto's brutal pace, fucking your throat in shallow thrusts that make your eyes water more. "yeah, she loves it," he gasps, thumb wiping a tear from your cheek even as he pushes deeper. "look at her—crying and still sucking like she needs it to breathe."

it's too much and perfect and stupidly loving, your body shaking between them as the pleasure coils tighter and tighter, pussy fluttering wild around geto, throat swallowing convulsively around gojo. you're close again—teetering on that edge they've been dancing you along all night—and they feel it, both of them groaning in unison as your body tightens.

"fuck— she's gonna come," geto grits out, thrusts turning erratic, grip on your wrists bruising now. "pussy's clamping—shit—gonna make me—"

gojo pulls out of your mouth suddenly with a wet pop, hand fisting your hair to tilt your face up as he strokes himself fast and sloppy. "wait—fuck, me too—gonna cum, baby, gonna—"

they both curse at the same time, voices overlapping in desperate, filthy harmony, "fuck, fuck, coming. . ." and geto pulls out of your pussy with a slick rush that leaves you empty and whining high in your throat. your legs finally give out, knees buckling as the sudden loss hits, but gojo's there instantly, hauling you down to the rug with strong hands under your arms until you're on your knees between them, shaky and wrecked and dripping.

gojo drops down from the bed too, both of them standing over you now—tall and flushed and gorgeous, cocks in hand as they stroke themselves fast and frantic, eyes locked on your face like you're the only thing in the world. "open your mouth, princess," gojo pants, voice sweet and mean all at once, free hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. "tongue out—yeahhhh, just like that. good fucking girl."

geto groans beside him, hand still pinning one of your wrists behind your back even on your knees, keeping you arched pretty for them. "gonna paint you, baby," he mutters, voice rough with affection. "deserve every drop after taking us so well."

you obey—mouth open wide, tongue lolling out obedient and desperate, eyes glassy and adoring as you look up at them. "please," you whimper, voice hoarse and small and needy. "want it—want your cum—please—"

that's all it takes. gojo comes first—high, broken moan of your name as his cock pulses, thick ropes of cum striping your face in hot, messy bursts—across your cheeks, your nose, your waiting tongue. "fuck— take it, take it all," he gasps, aiming the last spurts right into your open mouth, watching with hooded eyes as you swallow greedily.

geto follows seconds later—deep, guttural groan that sounds like it's punched out of him, hips jerking forward as he paints your face too, cum mixing with gojo's in sticky lines over your lips and chin, dripping down your neck. "shit— perfect, so perfect," he praises, voice cracking soft at the end, thumb smearing the mess across your lower lip like he's marking you.

they milk themselves dry onto you—stroking slow through the aftershocks, making sure every drop lands on your face, your tongue, your chest—until you're glazed and messy and utterly ruined, kneeling there panting with cum dripping off your chin and the biggest, dopiest smile tugging at your swollen lips.

gojo laughs first—breathless and unhinged—dropping to his knees to cup your messy face and kiss you deep and filthy, tasting himself and geto on your tongue. "fuck, look at you," he murmurs against your lips, all soft now, menace melted into pure affection. "prettiest mess we've ever made."