a/n: direct build off of this and maybe i’ll make like another part 🙂↕️
it’s late saturday night or early sunday morning, whichever.. all katsuki knows is that when you get home from your girls night you’re hiccuping and giggling. you stumble past him down the hall and disappear into your room with an accidental slam.
when you reemerge and walk to the kitchen his mouth goes dry. you’re wearing his shirt and nothing else. your legs are taunting him as you brush past him and reach up into a cabinet and all that does is show him that you put on your cotton dynamite panties.
“katsss.” you whine. “‘m hungry.” you look at him over your shoulder.
so is he, but not for food.
“yeah?” he leans back on the counter. “whatdya want?” he pushes off and walks to the fridge.
“mm.. grilled cheese?” you drape yourself on his arm.
“okay.” he stiffens. “why don’t you go sit down, baby girl.” he nods to the bar stools.
“so sweet to me.” you reach up and bury your fingers in his hair. “my favorite hero too. when you’re running around the city in your suit.. mm.” you start to giggle. “wanna know something.” you whisper in his ear, lips brushing against his skin.
“hm?” he turns his attention to you.
“look.” you lift his shirt on your body and show him your dynamite panties. “aren’t they so cute?” you coo. “oh! n look!” you turn around and poke your ass out showing him the name dynamite spread across your ass. “they’re so soft.” you grab his wrist.
“lemme make you some food.” his chest is heaving, stopping you from having him touch you. “you’re drunk and-”
“i’m not! it was a glass of wine.” you pout your lips. “you hate em or something?” you look down at your panties.
“no.” he shakes his head once, his eyes boring into yours. “still think you should get some food in you to soak up that wine first.” he tugs your shirt down and picks you up to sit you on the counter.
he can feel you staring at his back as he turns on the stove and starts cooking. he’s trying to think of anything else to get his cock to go down but every time you hiccup and giggle, it stands right back up. he plates your sandwich and walks it over to you.
“c’mere.” you extend you legs and pull him in between yours.
“eat.” he sets the plate next to you and grips your thighs.
you eat the sandwich, batting your eyelashes up at him. he watches you intently, pupils dilating as you lick your lips. when you’re done you push the plate away and stare up at him.
“you think they’re cute?” you lift your shirt again and the black and orange cotton comes into view.
“yeah.” he doesn’t break his eye contact with you.
“then look at em.” you whine.
he swallows and looks down. “why’d you get em?” his hands start to slide up your thighs.
“cus they’re cute n soft.” you nibble your lip as his hands keep rising. “feel em.” you pant.
“i.. fuck baby, i shouldn’t.” his voice is like gravel.
“why not?” you you whine, shimmying your hips closer.
“just one touch.” he nods, jaw clenching trying to hold himself together. “just one.” his thumb brushes over one of the explosions.
you spread your thighs more has his thumb slides down to one of the sparkles. he can’t help himself and keeps tracing over the cotton clinging to your pussy and slides down your covered slit.
“katsuki.” your thighs shake.
“i gotta stop.” he mumbles, eyeing the wet patch on the orange part of the cotton. “tell me to stop.” his thumb presses down on your clit.
“don’t want you to.” you gasp. “please kats.” you start to lift your shirt up.
“keep it on. like seeing you in my stuff.” he keeps rubbing lazy circles on your clit. “like seeing you in these panties with my name on em.” he stops to grab your hips and scoot you closer.
he tugs on the cotton watching the wet patch grow and soon he can see a perfect outline of your pussy. you’re gasping and whimpering his name making his cock is throb in his sweats.
“gonna try something.” he steps back, chuckling at your whine. “stay still.”
he pushes his sweats down and your thighs spread even more when his cock bobs out. he steps closer, stroking himself and then smacking his tip against your soaked panties.
“katsuki!” you push closer.
“call me what’s printed all over these panties.” he grabs your hips and pulls you flush against his cock and starts to fuck the outside of your panties.
“d-dynamite!” you gasp. “feels so good.” you grab onto his shoulders and dig your nails in.
“yeah? your favorite hero making you feel so good?” he grins.
you’re babbling up at him, whining and moaning while you jerk your hips in time with his thrusts. his grip on your hip tightens as he watches his cock become coating in your slick and his pre. he dips down and hovers his mouth inches from yours.
“kiss me.” you plead, legs trembling at the obscene sound of his cock sliding against your panties.
he closes the gap and when his lips touch yours you burst, orgasm taking over your senses. you moan into his mouth and with a couple more quick jerks of his hips he’s coating your panties. you both stay clinging to each other, panting into each others mouths between kisses.
“can you.. um..” you feel heat rush to your cheeks.
“what baby?” he pulls back and searches your eyes.
“wear the suit next time?” your voice barely above a whisper.
“yeah?” he chuckles.
“yeah please.” you nod quickly. “please dynamite?” you bat your lashes up at him.
“anything for my biggest fan.” he smiles, situating himself back in his sweats. “let’s get you to bed.” he scoops you off the counter.
“can i stay in your room?” you bury your head into his neck.
flirting with bakugou while he’s got a girlfriend…. a popular pro hero couple who’s been together for like a year and you only work in like hero infrastructure, a random sector that he had to visit often.
you’re always taking the flirting too far because you believe he won’t give in, he’s too proud and he’s not a bad guy to cheat on his girlfriend. but there’s no bite behind his words when he tells you to go away and his relationship is currently so stale and you’re pretty and give in to all his insecurities, he feels wanted by you. work wife? isn’t that what people say?
bakugou could never be the guy who has a work wife. he’s loyal and honest. but his eyes do linger on you for longer than it’s appropriate and although he could swear he found your goofy compliments annoying, he’s cheeks heat in pleasure.
there is a week where he emotionally cheats i think. you tell him he looks pretty and when he replies, “you think?” lacking any insult, quirking his brow with a smirk, this time making you stutter… he enjoys it a little too much. a time his girlfriend texted him asking to have lunch together but he’s already sitting with you after a long meeting about how he damaged three buildings, he declines and rests his arm on the back of your chair.
then there’s the time when you’ve been a little too touchy, but enough to pass it off as natural.
you’ve been all over him all day. brushing knees with his in the meeting. your hand on his shoulder as you point at something on his computer. cheek against his and he can smell the floral scent of your perfume. you also tripped over your own feet in front of him and he caught you with his hands on your waist.
you’re in the lift alone with him standing a little too close. brushing pinkies when you whisper, “dynamight.”
“hm?”
“if only you didn’t have a girlfriend. the crazy times we’d have.”
he finds himself yearning for it, the freedom of a single man where he could push you against the wall and kiss you how you’d like. tug down your panties and play with you as you moan into his mouth.
it all makes him realise he needs to break up with his girlfriend asap. even if you won’t become his afterwards.
“the fuck are you talking about?” he looks at you with narrowed eyes.
“they’re just.. mmm.” you scrunch your brows and lift his shirt. “just wanna rub against em.” you push your lower lip out and trail your fingers over his abs.
“in your panties?” he raises an eyebrow.
“mm-mm.” you shake your head.
“wanna rub your pussy on my abs?” he grabs your wrist.
“yes.” you nod quickly.
“then go on.” he leans back on the pillows and rests his hands behind his head.
you pull of your panties and he clicks his tongue at you to pull off your shirt too. you straddle him with wobbling thighs as you sink down to press against his hardened muscles. you drag yourself against him once and your breath gets caught.
“katsuki.” you plant both of your hands on his chest and start to grind against him.
he flexes his abs and the gasp that leaves your lips has him hardening in his sweats. “makin a mess.” he drags his eyes down your body and looks a the sticky mess you leave behind with every jerk of your hips.
“s- sorry! feels so good.” you hump against him faster.
your nails dig into his chest as you focus on the coil building low in your tummy. he pulls his hands out from behind his head and grip onto your waist to guide your movements. one of his hands slides around and lifts up to spank your ass.
“kats!” you squeal, hips jerking.
“doin good f’me. wanna see you cum just like this.” he nods and lands another spank.
your head bows down, lips parting, thighs shaking fiercely as he flexes and clenches his muscles for your pleasure. he grinds you against him harder, fingers digging into your plush, staring up at every expression that crosses your face.
“i’m- i.. nghhhh!” your hips still and he feels you cumming all over his abs, soft whimpers and gasps slipping from your lips as you collapse against his chest.
“y’know i got a face you can ride too.” he rubs your back as you come down.
For the first time in all his life, Katsuki Bakugo looks at someone and wholeheartedly wants to fuck them.
Not to be confused with 'fucking them up'. No. He doesn't want violence, no exchange of fists and blows, and the desire to tousle and bruise an annoying face.
Bakugo looks at you sitting on the sofa directly opposite the TV in the dorm living room, sitting back with Mina by your side as you two hog the remote to watch some stupid, overly dramatic show. And cannot get rid of the inexplicable need to fuck you.
His eyes scan you from head to toe, looking closely at the places he'd want his lips to touch; yours, your jaw, your throat, your chest, your thighs... it doesn't end.
It's unfamiliar, nasty, deep in his stomach, stirring, a low pulsing at his loins that make his sweats feel a tiny bit tighter. Bakugo tries to focus on chopping up the vegetables for the curry he wants to make. But his mouth is dry, and he can feel his hands getting sweaty.
He drops the knife just to be safe and makes up an excuse to go to his room for a moment. Bakugo takes deep breaths, trying to stop the salacious images of your bare breasts - not that he's ever seen it, but he's got a faint picture from the outline of them from your shirt - and how your moans would sound.
Would your moans be high-pitched like the girls in the porn he caught Denki watching one day? Would it be deep, low and guttural, like how your grunts are during training? Bakugo harshly pushes the elevator button and waits, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he imagines the different positions he'd like you in.
He steps in when the doors open, mind switching from how your ass would look in doggy, to how hot it would be if he fucked you opposite a mirror. And just as he can just barely make out your expression in the reflection-
"Hey, hold the elevator please!"
- He pushes the button in reflex before he looks up to see you hurrying over to him with a grateful expression on your face. He wishes he had just pretended like he didn't hear you, wishes he'd let the doors shut to avoid this horrible situation he's found himself in.
The object of his obscene daydreaming is standing just meters away in the little elevator. God, you're pretty. You press the button to your floor as you step on, and he averts his eyes from your ass just as you turn around to walk over to the other end.
Bakugo stands at one corner, and you stand at the opposite. It pisses him off.
You two aren't even close. He's not sure he's ever had a proper one on one conversation with you, so why does he want you in his bed so badly?
BIG THANKS TO @vandxrlindes FOR EDITING AND PROOFREADING
GOJO X READER
SMUT - BLOWJOBS | DIRTY TALK | MENTIONS OF SEX
AFAB!Reader
Gojo has a weapon in his pants <3
FIRST TIME BLOWJOB
ONESHOT: Pearl Necklace
You and Gojo are fairly on the same level of drive when it comes to sex but he can really be too much at times. All he needs is a small nudge to push him into a craze for you that’s hard to control. But is that going to stop you? No.
———————
“I told you I want to!”
Y/N grabbed the hem of Gojo’s shirt as she sat at the dining table with him standing beside her, refusing every single one of her requests.
“Nuh uh bae, you haven’t given me a blowie for almost our whole entire relationship. What if you bite my dick off?”
“I know you want it, too, Satoru!”
He chuckled, but it was clear his answer was still a hard no.
Y/N groaned in annoyance as she slowly let go of his shirt, leaving small wrinkles in her wake. She looked up at Gojo with eyes that seemed to be trying their best to persuade him, her peppermint-glossed lips forming a pout that reflected the soft glow of the light overhead.
He grunts. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
Y/N feigned innocence as she tilted her head, shifting her gaze to the ground before pursing her lips in an attempt to gain Satoru’s pity before swiftly looking back at him.
“I mean.. If you really don’t want to, it's fine.” She hummed as she padded across the dark oak floor to the living room.
“Wait.”
‘Jackpot.’
Y/N looked over her shoulder at the tall figure behind her. “Hm?-”
Before she could question him, a rough hand grabbed the back of her head as another wrapped around her waist. His lips crashed onto hers. His weight pushed against her, letting the heat transfer to her while the back of her knees hit the couch’s armrest before he finally pulled back.
What was left was a panting mess of smudged lip gloss paired with glossy, eager eyes which stared back at him. Time stood still, their gazes never shifting away in embarrassment like they usually did at the start of their relationship. It was the beginning of a new chapter.
“Try not to bite it off.” He teased as a playful grin tugged on his lips, flashing you his sharp canines.
———————
One thing led to another before Gojo was seated on the couch, legs spread with his prettiest doll between his thighs. Her hands were soft and scared almost like feathers tickling his skin as she caressed him through the cotton of his sweatpants.
His hand, almost numb with excitement and nervousness, released its white-knuckle grip from the edge of the couch, he silently watched Y/N as her hands fumbled with even the waistband on his boxers, his hard-on slipped out, revealing his veins that led all the way down to his pink hardened tip which was pulsing from arousal. This only served to send a jolt straight to Y/N’s core. His gaze darkened as he noticed the shadow it casted on his pretty girl’s face.
“Why are you already hard? Pervert.”
“My girlfriend’s about to give me the time of my life, can’t I be excited?” His smile twinkled like a kid in a candy shop.
Y/N’s hands slowly crept up to his girth, she felt it throbbing like it was begging to be touched. Her hands wrapped around it, bringing it closer to her flushed face. She smacked her lips with saliva, preparing herself.
‘He smells so good… It’s like omegaverse-“’
Her thoughts were put to an abrupt stop when Gojo‘s hand took ahold of her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze which displayed his gorgeous blue eyes that seeped both restraint and carefreeness. His fingers gently parted her lips and a finger slid in before pulling out the pink muscle hidden behind her perfect rows of teeth.
“Cover your bottom teeth with your tongue. Use your lips to make sure your tongue doesn’t slip in. You can do that for me, right?”
Y/N’s eyes almost seemed like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. She shifted closer as her tongue finally landed on the flushed tip that had small bead of clear forming at the tip. First thing she tasted was the subtle saltiness as her tongue circled his thick head before finally flicking against his frenulum. Gojo let out a shaky breath as his hand tugged at her hair, holding her bangs back for her. His eyes never left hers, not that he could bring himself to.
She shook her tongue and pushed her head slightly deeper, furrowing her brows in the process. As his cock shifted more and more into her warm mouth, his tip pushed against one of her cheeks, causing the flesh to protrude slightly, leaving a sight of a cute but inexperienced egoist trying to prove something but got tricked into being taken advantage of.
His hand ran through her hair gently, moving her bangs back so he could properly see the determination in the pretty eyes that loved him so dearly. It was clear he was holding himself back, despite his display of indifference.
“Relax.. Let it go down naturally..”
His voice seemed to have dropped an octave lower, sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine as she stayed nestled between his legs.
She took his advice, steadily taking in more of his length inch by inch before it finally hit the back of her throat. His breath hitched, half expecting her to stop there but Y/N’s determinedness wasn’t as low as he thought. Her grip on his girth tightened just the slightest before she slowly started to bob her head. Letting out sloppery messes gushing out from the sides of her mouth.
Gojo’s hand, once only a gentle guide in her hair, quickly balled into a fist as a quiet gasp slipped past his lips. He didn’t push her initially, since he didn’t want her first time to be too much. But the more her head bobbed and her tongue teasingly swirled his cock, the more eager he was to accept her challenge.
‘Why’s he so quiet?’
With her newfound and dumb determination, Y/N began to double her efforts, wanting to hear his sweet acknowledgments of her efforts. Despite this, Gojo barely let out even the slightest of noise, only squeezing his eyes shut as he threw his head back against the couch, scattering his white hair on the top of the couch. Leaving the poor girl in a ‘sticky’ situation.
Finally, after what felt like hours, but in reality only 30 seconds, small grunts and breaths began slipping past his concealed lips, and that was more than enough for Y/N to grin around the cock that was stuffing her mouth full.
“Ha... Fuck, Y/N…”
A familiar heat formed in her core as she felt the throbbing of his cock’s veins intensify. It was starting to get hot. Both physically and figuratively.
Hearing the evidence of her hard work paying off, Y/N before she slid him in completely, squeezing her teary eyes shut as her lips kissed the skin at the base of his fat cock. Gojo‘s hips bucked up into her mouth as his grip on her hair tightened, pushing his head further back into the plush couch. She looked up at him through the tears that clinged to her wet lashes, but was met with his head thrown back, which seemed to leave her disappointed.
Because of this distraction, her movements were starting to slow down but before she could register it, she felt his large hand guide her head forward and back, each bob harsher than the last.
Despite the sudden and forceful actions of the white head, Y/N didn’t complain. If anything, it only served to intensify the burning in her core seeing Gojo use her like his own fleshlight.
Tears fell down as he continued to facefuck her, but she couldn’t help but feel the drip from her cunt as the seconds went on, only letting her nails dig further into his thighs.
It was wrong of Y/N to think she had any sort of dominance over Gojo. Hell, he probably planned the whole thing in his head beforehand and was waiting for this whole event to unfold on its own.
After one final thrust, she pulled herself off from the thick cock that once filled her throat, unable to stop the coughs that were leaving her. Hot white spurted all over her mouth, dripping down onto her neck and down to the swell of her chest, leaving a sight for sore eyes.
“You’ve always wanted a pearl necklace, didn’t you, princess?”
His voice raspy and deep as he recovered his sanity.
A coy smile tugged on his lips as he admired his lover’s disheveled state, ravishing the annoyed pout that was forming on her puffy lips.
——————————————————————
JUST A SMALL ONE SHOT I MADE FOR FUN. I thot of this during ovulation so I wrote it.. HAVE FUN READING!!
nerd!gojo always holds his hand over yours when you jerk him off. he guides your fist up and down on his cock like he's doing it himself and the whole point of your hand being there is null and void. he might as well be masturbating.
you get upset about it one day, sitting back on your heels and giving his cock a gentle squeeze so he slows down. he looks at you with wide, hazed eyes, glossy with lust and need and everything else that makes him so fucking pretty! "why'd you stop?"
"you could do this yourself," you nod down to where his larger hand wraps around your smaller one, still closed around his weeping cock. "you're doing all the work, toru."
you try to loosen your grip and pull back, maybe suggest some other way of getting him off together, when he tightens his grip and forces your hand to still on his cock. he's a little red in the cheeks, long lashes fluttering under his glasses as he musters up the words he needs.
♡ TW: nsfw implication, enemies to lovers, kinda bitchy reader,
♡ FEM reader
Thinking about the poor college boy who’s struggling to get used to dorm life and his loud neighbor who isn’t making matters any better.
He has never been shy about telling someone off. People should have the common decency not to blast their infernal music so loud that the entire dorm shakes. And you, whoever you may be, are no exception—he thinks while pounding on your door with his fist. Fuck knows if you can even hear him over your speakers.
But lo and behold and despite all odds, you open up.
“Excuse me, can you turn it down?” His words might be polite, but his voice is anything but—glaring down at you… who quickly turned out to be a girl…
Yeah, definitely not the idiot ass-hat with the shitty body odor he was expecting. But a pretty girl in a short tank top without a bra and booty shorts so tight and short he would think you’d bought them ten years ago.
“It’s eight?” You raise your brow at him, face otherwise dull.
Okay, so you weren't what he was expecting. And sure, it might make his throat a little tight, among other things. But still, he not going to let it change anything.
“Yeah, I’m tryna study.”
That was a lie. He was actually about to go to bed. But he wasn’t about to tell you that. Judging by the way you were looking at him, he’d say you’d just laugh and slam the door in his face. Maybe even turn the volume up to spite him.
Not that telling you he was studying was any better.
“There’s something called a library for that sorta thing,” you drawl.
He’s right—you’re the sardonic type. There’s usually no use fighting with people like you, but still, he must stand his ground and insist, “Yeah, well, I prefer my room.”
You reply in kind, smiling now with a short excuse for a laugh, “Oh, what do you know, me too.”
You’re a little hard to read. That felt like sarcasm, but it wasn’t all that easy to tell. He’s mostly certain you couldn't care less, but at the same time, you’d humored him this long. So, maybe…
“You’ll turn it down then?”
As expected. You just laugh and shut the door in his face.
He stands there for a moment. You must be blowing your eardrums sitting in there. He thinks about knocking again, maybe dropping some of the politeness this time and demanding you turn it down.
But he ends up going back to his room. He decides then to wait another hour, thinking you might come to your senses despite your poor attitude. But at zero point, do you turn your music down by even a single lousy notch.
Lying in his room, he’s hoping someone else might come by and tell you off. That maybe then you’d listen.
But a couple more minutes later, he realizes he can’t wait for that to happen and decides to test his luck again. Abruptly springing from his bed, he marches over to your room. Doing as he did last time, nearly kicking your door in with his banging.
“Oh my god, dude, what is your problem!?” you bark once seeing him.
And his eye nearly twitches in turn. “My problem? Really? You’re one to talk!”
You gape at him, both glaring at the other.
“It’s eight-thirty. What? Is it your bedtime or something?”
“No. But I would appreciate it if I could hear myself think in my own room!”
“Oh? Well, maybe you should call your mommy and cry about it!”
Again, all you do is slam the door in his face. However, this time, you skip the laugh and settle for a simple yet efficient grimace that lets him know you’ll not be answering the door again.
Several days pass. He caved and invested in a pair of noise-canceling headphones. But still, he hadn’t been able to fall asleep when he wanted. But suppose that wasn’t all your fault. To be honest, he’d probably be struggling either way, with or without your music. It’s not easy living in a new place.
It’s lonely, too.
But that can’t be helped. At least not for him. He’s not too good at trying to make friends. And yet, there’s someone at the door.
Three firm knuckle knocks let him know. But who it might be is anyone’s guess. Still, he begrudgingly answers.
“Oh… so this is you, huh…”
It’s you—the hot but nasty girl next door, wearing that same pair of shorts he’s been thinking about every day without wanting to.
You don’t seem too pleased to see him either, even when you’d been the one to knock.
“Ugh…” You look around, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly before gritting your teeth and finally mustering up enough gall to actually spit out what you’d come there for. “You wouldn’t happen to have a screwdriver or something?”
This time, it’s him who raises his eyebrow. “Or something?” he repeats. “What would that be exactly?”
You scoff then, about to leave, grumbling out, “Never mind–” but he interjects before you’re fully turned around.
“Wait there.”
It’s to both of your surprise when he disappears into his room.
He isn’t gone long before he’s back with a screwdriver.
“Here.”
You don’t say anything, just rudely rush to grab it without even looking at him, but when you pull it to yourself, you’re pulled back, stuck to the same spot. He holds onto the other end, looking you right in your shocked eyes.
“You know, it’s customary to say thank you when someone does something for you.”
You look flushed—a little chagrined, maybe—but ultimately, you can’t really argue with it, mumbling out a bitter “Thanks.”
He smiles then, chuckles even. Not nicely. Smugly.
Admittedly, it’s not his best moment, but who can blame him? You haven’t exactly been so nice yourself. Right now, he can tell you almost feel like rejecting his offer altogether, but that refusing at this point would be too petty so you just have to grin and bear it.
It’s actually kind of cute.
“Bring it back once you’re done,” he says, then lets go of you, and off you go, nearly stomping away.
He goes back to studying, shaking his head at you. You can’t have many friends either with that attitude. Suppose you have that in common.
Sometime later there’s a frustrated scream coming from the other room. Then, the sound of a door handle roughly getting yanked, someone storming down the short distance of the corridor before throwing his door open unannounced.
“Your useless screwdriver isn’t doing its stupid job!” you yell in a whine, almost throwing the tool at him where he sits by his desk. It lands in his bed next to him instead.
You look utterly disheveled at this point. Dewy-faced and frustrated, hair a total mess and even hotter still. It’s really unfair. How come a bitchy brat like you looks like that, even when you’re a wreck? It shouldn't be allowed.
“I highly doubt it’s the screwdriver's fault. You positive it’s the useless one?”
This time, you just growl without words before turning on your heel, about to stomp out the same way you’d arrived—but again, he finds himself stopping you for whatever reason he still can’t understand.
“Wait.” He gets up from his chair and picks up the screwdriver you’d chucked. “Le’mme have a look.”
You shake your head with a scoff, “No way. I’m not letting you in my room.”
“You didn’t seem so reserved when you came barging into mine.” Ignoring you, he walks straight past you.
“Wait–” you protest, but he doesn't bother.
He just opens your door and reveals the breakdown you’d had just earlier. Having but one word to ascribe to the scene.
“Wow.”
Suppose you were both in your own right struggling with acclimating to dorm life…
“It’s not my fault I’m not a carpenter or whatever. The instructions said it was simple,” you excuse the mess of planks and screws and bits all belonging to your unassembled wardrobe among all the clothes that are meant to be in it. “They lied.”
He scratches his neck, feeling a little bad for you despite everything. This would take anyone over an hour—probably even more, to be honest. Even if you managed on your own, you’d have a hard time pushing it into place. Not that it’s any of his business. But hey… if he played his cards right, maybe he could get something out of this in the end.
“Alright. I’ll make you a deal,” he says then, folding his arms upon his chest while looking down at you. “I’ll set this up for you.” He leans down, that same smug smile from before plastered on his face as he comes with his condition, “If you promise to lower your music after eight.”
Honestly, with your looks, you could probably knock on just about anyone else's door and ask for their help instead. They probably wouldn’t ask anything in return. But hey, can’t blame a guy for trying.
And to his surprise, you actually seem to think about it. Maybe you’re one of those girls without a clue. You even do this cute thing where you chew your lip in thought, a furrow between your brows.
You look up at him when you’re finished. “Ten.”
You’re bargaining with him now? He was expecting you to say something like fat chance. But no, you’re really that desperate.
He thinks about agreeing but then doesn’t. No, it might be a little scummy of him, but since he’s gotten this far, he might as well keep the act up and stand his ground.
“Eight,” he insists.
And you’re face scrunches as you fold, going down to “Nine.”
But no, following the same logic that had worked for him up until now, he still doesn’t budge. “Eight.”
You purse your lips, and he thinks he’s blown it, that you’re just about ready to bark at him to get the fuck out. But you don’t. Instead, you become even cuter. Giving in with a sigh, “Okay, fine.”
He honestly can’t believe it. Though his face shows no shock, he’s dumbfounded on the inside. He can’t believe that worked. Here’s this chick who all but told him to go fuck himself just a few days ago, now all but begging him for his help. Or no, begging is a strong word, but still.
He has to go back into his room and fetch the rest of his toolbox. Turned out you did need an or-something—a drill. No wonder you weren’t managing. But after a little over an hour of tinkering while you lay on your bed reading a magazine—and at some point asking you if it was okay if he removed his shirt before he died of heatstroke, then bothering you for a drink—it was finally finished.
“Alright, all done.” He announced, and after sliding it into place for you, he clapped his hands together and said, “Ta-dah.”
He then takes a look at his wristwatch, wanting to see how long he’d spent, but comes away with another fun discovery.
“My my, would you look at the time?” he grins again, showing it to you. “Just passed eight.”
It makes him snicker. And not expecting a thank you after that comment, he just gathers his tools and slings his shirt over his shoulder, ready to excuse himself.
“Let me know if you need a cup of sugar, neighbor.”
He’s just about to open the door when you speak up.
“Thanks, but I'm good on sugar, actually.”
Your voice is a little different this time—not annoyed, though not chagrined like earlier either—no, something new. Something that makes him turn around again.
You’ve rolled off the bed, now standing just a short distance away, hips tilted, standing slanted with your arms crossed loosely, wearing those same tight little short shorts he’s never seen you without but could definitely picture on the floor.
Yeah, in his wildest dreams, or so he thought…
“I might need some help breaking in my bed, though, if you’re interested.”
You step closer, sizing him up where he stands, and then you smile, offering him a small coy laugh. “That is, of course, if it’s not already passed your bedtime.”
He swallows thickly—nearly drops the toolbox to the floor but manages to keep his cool, though just barely.
Pairings- Rich Frat/fuckboi Toru x Preppy Sorority reader
Summary- One VERY drunk encounter between your greatest rival ever - on your last day of college- leads to you being knocked up. Satoru Gojo, a fuckboy, fratboy, rich little jerk, has been a rival of yours since you all met in College, every damn grade you fought for he got with ease. He crashed every Sorority party you threw. The two of you are so infamous in your rivalry, your friend groups were rivals, and for some reason, life is playing some damn joke on you both. Now... you have to tell him the news - but how Satoru takes it surprises you. Can you both raise a baby together!? And do you even really know each other?
Contents/Warnings- gonna be flashbacks to the rivalry/that night, nerdjo but make him a fratboy, enemies to kind of begrudging partners, but then as the pregnancy progresses, they fall in love hehe- fluffy and smutty, MDNI -will have explicit sex etc, art in the banner by Yuana on X - WC so for- 8k
Playlist -preview below!- headcanons here
It had been an absolutely filthy night, that led to your doctor coming in and informing you three months later-
'You're pregnant'
You came in for a normal checkup, you're on the pill and you have no sex life, aside from one encounter over three months ago. A filthy, questionable ass encounter with what so happened to be your former 'bully' - rich boy, frat boy, pretty boy, pretentious boy- Satoru Gojo.
For years, the two of you were rivals, not just academic either, since you were both top of your class all through college, but at everything. He'd hold your notebooks high and laugh at you, he'd try to ruin and crash every sorority event he could. Known as the Queen and King of the campus, you ran the rivaling Sorority to his Fraternity. The amount of times you all had gone toe to toe was literally notorious, even your best friends hated each other on your behalf, starting an entire war between you all.
You have no clue how it happened, still, how the two of you had the best sex of your life at that damn party, fueled by drinks but also something you'd never admit- you've always wondered. Hearing those stories about his... skills, seeing his perfect body and the way his pretty lips smirked so cruelly your direction, even after all these years- how it all led to this moment.
'Hah, sweets, ya finally admit I'm good at something?' Satoru had murmured in your ear, while he'd had you bent right over some bed at some party- both of you were seniors in college on your last and final party, finally you thought you'd be rid of him, of this ass of a man. He was going to live the rich life, working for his family, you were moving on to a whole different career.
'One t-thing... that's it...' You had cried out when his cock had shoved in so deep, making you cum all over him, his fingers gripping your hips while he'd pumped deeper and deeper, impossibly until he'd been right on your cervix. 'F-fuck!'
'Fuck... you had a pussy like this and we've been fighting!?' Satoru is whispering, resting his snowy locks against your neck, biting it with sharp teeth as you milk his cock. 'so greedy, huh?'
'S-shut up, mnh- just... keep... there, there shit!' Satoru had slammed right against your cervix, feeling you pulsing around him, it had been too good, too tight, too fucking wet, he'd paused then, looking at your arched ass, your skirt shoved over your hips. 'Keep g-going, please...'
'M'gonna cum, tho-she's too tight- shit can I?'
Your drunk ass had said- sure. You're precise on that pill, every day your alarm goes off in the morning, you take it. How could...
"Pregnant!?" You repeat. Unbelievable. No fucking way. You...
"Yes sweetie I suggest prenatal and an ultrasound, hmm?" The nurse says so sweetly, as you feel sick to your stomach, which your hand goes down to touch.
Pregnant. With rich, notorious fuckboy Satoru Gojo’s baby- now you would have to tell him!?
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 yuji using both hands to fuck himself after you send him what most would consider a casual selfie.
unabashed, head tilting back into his bed- hips canting up and up off the bed over and over the second palms of his hands meet the coarse pink hair dusting his pelvis. tilting his head to catch a glance of your pretty face. lips pouting, something you have a tendency to do in your pictures because you think it looks cute, and god- he prays every day you never stop doing it.
cock so hard it hurts, slipping the angry and red, mean head through calloused palms. wondering if your pretty, manicured fingers would feel better than the burn he feels now.
coughing out sounds of moans trapped in his throat, shaped like your name- hoping his roommates are out for the night. not having the foresight to check before opening your messages and reading over the;
which one looks better? :3
text from you, a part of him begging you're sending him such cute images on purpose. at least then, it'd give him an excuse to fuck himself silly over your face- letting out an exasperated keen the second another one comes through.
this one, this one framing your face so pretty- eyes darting down to the fact that it looks like you're topless. a sliver of soft skin like a blessing, dropping one hand off his cock to bring his phone in closer.
panting exceeding their normal, lust driven tempo to groan out noises that sound like 'fuck, fuck, fuck' before he's done for.
his movements sluggish while he poses his phone downwards, just shy of kissing his leaky length. the juxtaposition of your face pouting at him through a illuminated screen and his viscous hand working over his cock just too good.
stomach tensing taught until he's spent- the first rivulet of cum landing right over your image. not daring to see where the rest lands because he's bucked his hips off the bed, squeezing his eyes tight and imprinting your face to the back of his eyelids while he cums over and over.
heart stilling to its normal pace after moments of clarity. dropping his phone off to the side and running a fist over his sweaty, blush hair.
having half the mind to wipe his phone off with his shirt- cringing over that decision later and sending you a message letting you know the last one is his favorite.
heart leaping out of his chest when you call him- happily blabbering about how happy you are he's picked that one. all the while his mind wanders off and wonders if you can hear the slick sounds of his shaky hand palming over his cock through the receiver.
synopsis ╰┈➤ pining over your best-friend's brother for as long as you can remember actually did work out in your favour!
wc: 6.1k
warnings: shameless smut bc i was deprived of having the best friend's older brother experience, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of getting pregnant, mentions of food, fem reader, angst if you squint really really really hard.
a/n: this is a remake of a geto fic i wrote last year on ao3 when i was missing tumblr bc i had to visit my home country, and tumblr is actually banned there.. so in the offchance you did read my fic on ao3 (it has like 1k hits so you probably haven't) this is the same author lol! my writing lowkey sucked back then. english is also not my first language so I apologise if there are any grammatical errors or mistakes. not proofread so if it does say suguru's name or describes his attributes instead of satoru it is not my fault ok ( ´ ω ` )
You rolled over, stomach aching with hunger, as you listened to the slow, steady breathing of your best friend. The dim glow of the clock read 3:25 AM. With a sigh, you stared at the dark ceiling, unable to ignore the gnawing emptiness in your stomach any longer.
It was your sleepover with Ami, but an ill-timed nap during dinner had left you feeling both restless and starving. Giving in, you quietly tiptoed out of the room and made your way to the kitchen, hoping there were some leftovers from the meal you and Ami had prepared earlier.
Switching on your phone’s flashlight, you barely stifled a scream when a dark figure loomed in the kitchen. Your heart slammed against your ribs as the figure turned, moonlight catching sharp eyes—ones that, even through your panic, you recognized instantly.
"Y/N? What’re you doing here?"
The deep, sleep-roughened voice of Gojo Satoru, Ami’s older brother, filled the silence. He spoke through a mouthful of Oreos, crumbs clinging to his lips. You exhaled shakily, quickly turning off your flashlight.
"I—uh, I was hungry and couldn’t sleep," you admitted, staring at anything but him. "Thought I’d grab some of the leftovers."
Your heart still pounded in your chest, but now for an entirely different reason.
You had known Gojo Satoru for as long as you could remember. Through every phase, every milestone, every moment of your friendship with Ami—he had always been there. Not always present, but there. Three years older, confident, effortlessly cool. While Ami was open and fiery, Gojo was just as lively—charming, talkative, always the center of attention. He had a way of making people feel at ease, flashing his easygoing grin and slipping effortlessly into conversation. But with you, it was different. With you, he was distant. Playfully dismissive at best, indifferent at worst, like you were the only person in the world he had no interest in figuring out.
And yet, despite his distant nature, one undeniable truth remained: you had been hopelessly in love with him for years.
Only two people in the world knew this—Ami and your diary.
You still remember the first time you saw him. Fourteen-year-old you had been completely mesmerized by the sight of Ami’s older brother—the ivory, icy hair, so similar to his sisters (you’d always called them Elsa’s siblings) the shirts he’d wear that did little to hide the toned body he had began building once he started hitting the gym, biceps filling the sleeves, and the way the muffled sound of his electric guitar filtered through the walls when you and Ami were in her room. You had been too shy to even approach him, content to admire him from afar, heart pounding at every accidental brush of his arm when he passed by.
Your infatuation had been so painfully obvious that Ami had once turned to you, deadpan, and asked, "Do you like my brother?"
You stammered, cheeks burning, only for her to roll her eyes and say, "I don’t care, do whatever you want."
But wanting had never been enough.
Over the years, you had tried—desperately—to get his attention. Push-up bras you had no business wearing at sixteen. Cherry-flavored lip gloss, tiny shorts, stolen tank tops from your older sister. Cute bikinis on beach trips with Ami, hoping his gaze would linger just a second too long. But he never looked. Never really looked. To him, you were just his little sister’s friend.
Seventeen-year-old you had given up entirely.
Especially when you saw the other girls.
The ones he did look at. The ones he brought home late at night, holding them close as they giggled against his shoulder, their hands roaming across his tall, lean frame. The ones who disappeared into his room, only for you to hear muffled noises through the walls no matter how hard you tried to ignore them.
"Give up already," Ami had told you bluntly one night, rolling her eyes. "My brother’s a whore."
Now, at twenty, with college life keeping you busy, Gojo Satoru has become little more than a distant, bittersweet memory. You had forced yourself to move on, burying that old crush deep in the past where it belonged.
But then, summer came.
And Satoru was back.
Home for a few weeks, lounging around the house like he owned the place. Teasing Ami relentlessly, getting on her nerves while you stood awkwardly by, watching the two siblings bicker. Occasionally, he would drag you into the conversation—just to fluster you, just to see you squirm.
At most, your only real interactions with him had been when he gave you and Ami a ride to school in his car or when he felt like helping with your math homework. Even then, it was never just help. It was teasing Ami for her awful math skills, then turning to you with a smug grin and exaggerated praise, just to make her mad.
You told yourself it meant nothing.
It had to mean nothing.
And yet, as you stood there in the dimly lit kitchen, watching him casually eat Oreos under the moonlight, you couldn’t ignore the way your pulse quickened.
Like that fourteen-year-old girl was still somewhere inside you, heart still foolishly hoping.
You stood there awkwardly, stomach no longer the only thing in knots. This was the first time you’d ever been alone with Gojo Satoru, and suddenly, you had no idea what to do with yourself.
"You want some Oreos?"
He pushed the half-empty packet toward you from across the counter, chewing lazily on one himself. "Oh—uh, thanks." You took one, feeling a little ridiculous as you nibbled at the edge. Turning away, you busied yourself with the microwave, searching for the tacos you and Ami had left behind earlier. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the way Satoru raised an eyebrow. You weren’t exactly being subtle about your discomfort.
"Are you scared of me or something?" His voice was teasing, but there was curiosity behind it. "You never talk to me." You turned, startled by his bluntness. "I’m not scared of you," you said quickly. "I just… don’t really know what to talk to you about." He let out a low, breathy laugh at that, and warmth spread through your body at the sound. God, why did he have to sound like that?
"Oh, really?" he mused. "I’ve known you for years, and this is the first time we’ve actually had a conversation without Ami around." You didn’t have a response for that, so you focused on the tacos instead, pulling them from the microwave and settling onto a chair near the countertop.
Satoru snickered, shaking his head as he turned to the fridge. He rummaged through it with his broad back to you, the muscles of his shoulders shifting beneath his tank top. Your gaze drifted downward, trailing from the taper of his waist to the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips. His icy hair was gleaming under the dim light of the fridge, looking pristine even at such an absurd hour in the night. With a small flustered twinge in your chest you noticed how he had an undercut now— why’d he look more.. delectable than usual? Were you ovulating?
He turned back around, holding a container of leftover cake. You quickly looked away, flustered. "You like strawberry cake, don’t you?" He cut two slices, sliding one toward you. You blinked in surprise. "How do you know that?"
He smirked at your expression. "Ami mentioned it once. When she threw you that surprise party for your 16th birthday." Your breath caught. That was nearly four years ago. You hadn’t even thought he knew about that party, let alone remembered such a small detail about you.
Heart fluttering, you took a bite of the cake, trying to push down the giddy feeling creeping up your spine. Slowly, the tension between you began to ease. Satoru was surprisingly easy to talk to—charming, even. He started sharing embarrassing stories about Ami, making you laugh so hard you had to cover your mouth to muffle the sound. You learned that he wasn’t as distant as you had always thought—if anything, he was naturally outgoing, effortlessly getting along with everyone. Everyone except you, or so it had always seemed. But now, as the conversation flowed and you found unexpected common ground, you realized he wasn’t avoiding you—he just never had a reason to talk to you. Until now. You also learned that he had a lot more in common with you than you expected. He was into photography, filmmaking, and music composition, even studying music at university.
What started as a midnight snack turned into hours of conversation. Before you knew it, the sky was shifting from black to a soft, early-morning blue.
"Never knew you were this cool, Y/N."
You tried not to visibly preen at his words, fighting to keep your composure. "So you didn’t think I was cool before?" you teased. He rolled his eyes dramatically. "C’mon, you know what I mean." Then, more casually, he added, "You should hang out with me sometime. I could show you some of my short films, if you’re interested." Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could stop yourself, you nodded—a little too eagerly.
He chuckled, eyes crinkling. But then, for the first time that night, his gaze flickered—down. Just briefly. You caught the way his eyes lingered at the neckline of your flimsy sleep shirt before snapping back up to meet yours.
A shiver ran down your spine.
But before you could overthink it, Satoru stretched, gave you a lazy grin, and bid you goodnight before heading back upstairs. When you finally slipped back into bed next to Ami, she was still sound asleep, completely unaware of your absence. You buried your face in the pillow, heart pounding.
You had definitely caught him looking.
And just like that, your years-old crush was back in full force.
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
A few days later, you were back at Ami’s house, waiting for her to return from running errands. You plopped onto the couch, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, when footsteps coming down the stairs caught your attention. You looked up.
Satoru.
His white hair was falling into his eyes, loose strands framing his sharp features, and the compression shirt he wore clung to his torso in a way that wasn’t helping your thoughts at all.
"Oh, hey," he greeted, blinking at you in mild surprise. "You waiting on Ami?"
"Yeah, she said she’s gonna be late, though. Not sure how long."
"Damn." He stretched lazily. "I was about to head to the gym, but they’re closed today." You nodded, pretending to focus on your phone again, even though all you could think about now was him at the gym. Then, his voice broke through your thoughts.
"You wanna come up to my room?" Your head snapped up. He was watching you, eyes unreadable, a small smirk playing on his lips. Your stomach flipped. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at his suggestion, your face turning toward him with a slight pink dusting your cheeks.
“What? Go to your room?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
Satoru raised an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at his lips. “Yeah, you said you’d be interested in seeing some of my short films for my college projects. Want me to show you some? Seeing as we both have nothing else to do.” There was a certain teasing lilt to his voice, his sharp eyes taking in your flustered state with amusement.
“Oh.”
Realization struck, and you cursed yourself internally for how obviously thrown off you sounded. Really, it wasn’t your fault—you were a newly minted adult, and your hormones were practically waging war against your common sense. Still, you nodded, standing up alongside him, hyper aware of just how much taller he was. That ever-present smirk never left his face as he led you to his room, clearly entertained by your reaction.
The moment you stepped inside, you realized this was the only space in Ami’s house you hadn’t properly explored. You’d caught glimpses before—grabbing a charger or returning something Ami had borrowed—but never had you taken the time to actually look around. It was surprisingly neat, with the exception of his desk, which was cluttered with scattered papers and notebooks. A few posters lined the walls, his bed was made, and the entire space carried the familiar scent of his cologne.
“You can sit if you’d like. It’ll take me a second to find the files,” he said, gesturing to the bed as he made his way to the desk.
You hesitated before sitting down, instantly taking in just how much stronger the scent of his cologne was here. His bed, his pillows—everything was drenched in it. You briefly considered asking him what brand he used before dismissing the thought as too weird.
As Satoru rummaged through his laptop, you let your eyes drift to his back. The black compression shirt he wore hugged his broad shoulders, the fabric straining slightly each time he moved. You wonder what it would feel like putting your ankles on them while he– stop! Your gaze traveled lower, to his tapered waist, the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips—
You shook your head quickly, mentally chastising yourself for where your thoughts were heading. You crossed your legs in an attempt to ground yourself, tugging at the hem of your skirt in the process. As if sensing your discomfort, Satoru glanced back at you before giving you a small, teasing smile.
“M’not gonna bite, you know. You can sit comfortably,” he muttered, his attention half on the laptop.
“I-I know,” you mumbled, shifting slightly.
With that same lazy smirk, he returned his focus to the screen, fingers moving effortlessly across the keyboard. You watched them for a second too long—his hands were large, his nails neatly trimmed, his fingers long and dexterous. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the files he was pulling up rather than imagining sucking on his fingers.
“Aha,” he mumbles. “Found it.”
He clicks on a small folder icon, opening a three-minute video that plays like a cinematic trailer. You watch, both curious and impressed, as the screen fills with warm, golden hues—the entire short film has an almost Sufjan Stevens-esque aesthetic, shot on a beach at sunset. A man with dark long hair with striking amethyst eyes and a stunning woman with short, rust coloured hair (you ignore the tiny pang of jealousy at the fact that she got to work with Satoru) move through the scenes, their story unfolding in quiet gestures and lingering glances.
“The theme was ‘how love is shown through actions rather than words,’” he explains casually, glancing at you.
You look at him, thoroughly impressed. Even in such a short film, the theme is so carefully and beautifully portrayed through small, thoughtful details. You’d always assumed Satoru would lean toward thriller, or perhaps comedy, something packed with action. But this—this careful, deliberate depiction of love through unspoken moments—only deepens your admiration for him.
“I can tell,” you breathe out, taking in the last frames of the trailer. “It’s really beautifully made.”
A small, pleased smile tugs at his lips as he closes his laptop.
“The actors are beautiful, too. It adds to the mood of the film,” you add softly, glancing at him.
Satoru laughs—a smooth, melodic sound that makes your stomach flip.
“Those are two of my best friends. Suguru and Shoko,” he says. “Getting Shoko to agree was the hard part—she’s not into guys, but I knew her face had the exact look I wanted for this. She didn’t mind pretending to be with Suguru, but I did have to bribe her with a pack of cigarettes to make up for it.” He grins, amused at the memory.
You laugh too, feeling a strange sense of relief at his words. So Shoko wasn’t even into Satoru. Not that it should matter, but—well. She was gorgeous. You could admit that much. If you weren’t completely, hopelessly in love with Satoru, you might have tried hitting her up yourself.
He leans back against his pillow, elbow propped up to hold his head, watching you with lidded eyes and a lazy smile. You curse yourself for turning pink under his gaze. Shifting slightly, you fold your legs underneath you, adjusting your skirt as it rides up just a little. His eyes flicker downward, tracking the movement, before darting back up to your face.
You suddenly feel the weight of the atmosphere, hyper aware of the way his presence fills the room. Your gaze flits away, scanning the walls, the desk—anywhere but him.
“Um, I think I should go. Ami’s probably almost h—”
Your words cut off as Satoru’s large, warm hand closes gently around your wrist.
His lips curve into something unreadable, his dark eyes holding yours. “You know,” he murmurs, voice low, “I know about your little crush on me.”
Your stomach drops.
You don’t know whether to go pale or burn up entirely, but it feels like something in between.
“Wh—what?” You barely manage to force out the word. “Who said that? I don’t have a crush on you.”
He gives you a knowing look, rolling his eyes playfully. “C’mon, you think I wouldn’t notice?” He shifts slightly closer, and the warmth of his cologne—sandalwood and something rich you can’t name—fills your senses. “It’s so obvious. How did you think I wouldn’t know?”
Your breath catches as he reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with an easy familiarity. You blink at the gesture, suddenly feeling absurdly close to tears.
He notices. His expression softens as he wipes at the corner of your eye with his thumb.
“Why’re you crying, pretty?” He murmurs.
“I—I don’t know,” you stammer. “I thought—I thought you’d find me weird. Or childish. For having a crush on you.” You fidget with your hands, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable, just—just please don’t make fun of me or anything.”
His thumb lingers against your cheek. “I never said I didn’t enjoy your attention.”
Your breath stills.
“I think you’re pretty cute too,” he admits, voice dropping lower. “I’ve thought that for a while now.” His fingers trail to tuck your hair gently behind your ear. “I’ve always been… a little older than you. Always thought you were attractive as hell, but I didn’t want to freak you out about the age thing. Not until I saw one of Ami’s chats with you.”
A slow grin spreads across his face. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and you fight the instinct to take it in your mouth.
You shake yourself. Your brain can’t keep up with your body right now.
You look up at him, dazed, hanging onto his every word.
“Always suspected you had a little crush on me,” he muses. “You think I didn’t notice the tiny little tops you wore? How you’d lean in extra close, tits practically brushing against my arm, when asking me for help with math—math you already knew, by the way.” His eyes gleam as he watches you squirm. “Or how you’d reapply that pink lip gloss every time I looked at you?”
Your heart is pounding so loudly you think he might hear it.
He tilts his head slightly, watching you with that slow, amused smirk.
“My suspicions were kinda confirmed when I saw you texting Ami about how sexy you thought I was,” he murmurs, his voice like silk.
Your brain is screaming.
And yet, you don’t move away.
You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment, unable to believe he was telling you all this, too ashamed to look at him. His words ignited desire in you. He had noticed all your futile attempts to seduce him and despite the teasing words, you were getting wetter by the second.
He tutted softly, his eyes flicking to your face with a look that almost seemed amused. Gently, he reached for your hands, pulling them away from your face. His large hand easily enclosed both of your wrists, holding them firmly but not painfully, as he pinned them softly to your lap.
His gaze remained on you, studying your flushed expression with a small, knowing smile.
“You know what I wanted to do then?” He says, his voice low and teasing, as he leans a little closer, his eyes locked onto yours. The playful gleam in his eyes lingers as he watches you, a small, teasing smile tugging at his lips, his tone laced with lust.
“What?” You ask with a faint voice as he leans into you, his mouth beside your ear, his breath warm against your skin. The proximity makes your heart race, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat as his presence fills the space around you.
“Wanted to fuck you so badly. I’ve jerked off so many times thinking about you.” He groans as he pulls back, his oceanic eyes now clouded by desire and lust as he boldly makes eye contact with you, squeezing both your hands in his large grip.
You instinctively reach up to wet your lips, no longer unfamiliar with the warmth of embarrassment after his bold words. Then, surprising even yourself, you do something you never imagined—your heart racing as you rise onto your knees, tilt your head, and press your lips gently against his.
He responds immediately, his hand freeing your wrists as it goes to grip the back of your neck, and the other spayed on your lower back. He kisses you passionately, the kiss itself a clash of teeth and tongue. You moan as his tongue enters your mouth, swirling around yours and completely dominating your mouth as you gladly let him. You feel dizzy when experiencing a kiss like this, pulling back from air, your lips coated in a mixture of both your saliva.
He has a crazed look in his eyes, as he leans in to softly bite your bottom lip, maintaining eye contact with you as he tugs on it slightly, letting it go with a pop. You’re breathing heavily, not only because of the kiss but because of how heavily you’re attracted to him.
Without warning he pushes himself against the headboard of the bed, spreading his legs slightly and pulling you on his lap. You let out a small whimper at the way he manhandles you, arching your back and pressing your chest towards his as you both start kissing again. He kisses you like you’re his last meal, his tongue playfully chasing yours as he sucks on it, making you buck your hips against his.
He lets out a low groan at that, and you swear that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. Eager to hear it again, you grind your crotch onto his again, feeling the hardening imprint of his cock through his sweatpants. He grabs you in place by placing his large hands on your waist, bringing his hips up to rut his cock against your crotch again. At this point your panties are completely soaked. you were already wet just from his confession about you, his smooth voice being able to turn you on embarrassingly quick. They feel uncomfortably wet and you look down, seeing a wet patch forming on his sweatpants.
He humps into you harder, as you try your best to rub down on him, your clit being stimulated by the feeling of his hardened length rubbing against you even through the layers of clothing. Satoru stops his ministrations for a second, looking at you, realising how small you are even while sitting in his lap. his hands travel up your thighs as he lifts your skirt, taking in your absolutely soaked pussy. You bite your lip in both frustration and lust, wanting him to touch you rather than just stare.
“Fuck baby, you’re so eager, huh” he mumbles, distracted by how he can see the shape of your pussy through your panties. You moan, a little embarrassed, pushing your hips up, to signal him to touch you. Teasingly, he runs a long finger through your slit over your soaked panties. You swear you almost cum at his touch, as your body suddenly jolts, your hands grab at his shoulders. He chuckles a little, as he slips his hand in your underwear, his fingers teasingly sliding up and down your labia, gathering your slick. he uses that slick and prods at your puffy clit, causing you to let out a whimper, your hands grabbing tightly at his shoulders as you bury your face in the crook of his neck.
“So shy.. fuck I wanna see if you can come on my fingers alone. Y’r so wet, You like it messy?” He breathes out his words, his voice like honey, his fingers setting a brutal pace against your clit as you succumb to the pleasure, not even getting embarrassed at the fact that you’re basically riding his hand. with no warning his middle finger slides into you gently, as you gasp at the intrusion. However your clit is never left neglected, as his thumb immediately goes back to rubbing and flicking it, making you bite and kiss his neck in order to somehow relieve yourself of the torturous pleasure you’re experiencing.
“F-fuck,” you mutter, leaning back to look at Satoru in the eyes, biting your lip. “I think- I think ‘m close Satoru.” You close your eyes as he watches your face intently, his gaze boring into you as you twist your face into one of pleasure. Suddenly you feel a coil in your stomach snap as you feel yourself release all over his fingers, your breaths coming out fast and shaky. with one last flick to your clit, he grins smugly.
Clumsily, you climb off his lap, kneeling off the bed, hands reaching the waistband of his sweatpants. his brow furrows as he tsks cutely. “Let me take care of you baby, don’t you wanna feel good?” He asks as you shake your head, still flushed from your orgasm.
“No. wanna make you feel good too Satoru.” You say, as he throws his head back in a groan, getting painfully hard at just your words. “Fuck. okay. you’ve done this before?” He asks, as you nod your head. “Once, but I.. I don't know if I'm good at it.. I mean he came.. so..” You admit, looking at him, playing with the drawstring of his sweatpants.
“Shit, you have such a pretty mouth, I'm sure it’ll be good. I’ll teach you, baby” he says, caressing your face, setting his legs at the edge of the bed, as you get down on the floor between his spread legs, looking up at him.
You quickly discard your shirt, leaving you in your bra. Ironically, you chose to wear a lace one today as all your other ones were in the wash. Satoru smirks at your cute, lacy pink bra, snapping the strap against your skin as he looks down at you, analysing both your face and your supple tits. You nimbly take off his pants, gulping at the tent in his boxers. Timidly you run a hand over his clothed cock, and you see a wet spot starting to form. He gasps at the feeling of your hand caressing him, and you pull down his boxers with a gasp.
It's big. it’s really big, is all you’re thinking. It slaps against his stomach, tall and proud, the tip a flushed pink colour, already starting to dribble pre-cum. His base is trimmed, and you almost salivate when you see how it connects to his happy trail, the tantalising white trail peeking out at the end of his compression shirt. You have no idea how you’re gonna fit it inside of your mouth.
You gingerly grab it, your mouth reaching out to kitten lick the tip. Slowly you take the tip in your mouth, suckling on it, as you start to make your way down. He starts moaning when you pay attention to the tip, and you bob your head up and down his shaft, feeling a small sense of success when you hear him downright whimper, and you feel slick slide out of you again. You eagerly bob your head up and down, not being able to take all of him in because he’s so big, spit is coating your chin and dripping on his dick, your hands pumping the remaining part of the shaft that won’t fit in your mouth. You’re gagging and he’s grabbing your hair to roughly lift it up and then thrusting his cock back in your mouth, and you let out a moan, pressing your thighs together at the rough way that he handles you.
“Fu-fuck, you’re taking it so well. Shit- ah!” He moans out louder and you look up at him with teary eyes, hollowing your cheeks. A few more thrusts and suddenly he pulls you off, his face flushed.
You whine, wanting him to cum in your mouth. He coos up at your needy reaction, pulling you onto his lap, his face flushed and red. “You’re on birth control right?” He pants recalling when he had overheard you telling Ami that you’d need to leave their house soon to stop by the store to get some birth control before they closed. You nod and he gives you a happy grin, his canines peeking through.
“Need to cum inside of you.” He whispers in your ear and you nod eagerly, wiping off the spit on your chin with the back of your hand.
His hands travel up your skirt and pull your basically ruined panties off as you sign a breath of relief, the cold air hitting your pussy. You’re left in a bra and a skirt and you quickly unclasp your bra and Satoru pushes off your skirt. You’re left completely naked and Satoru still has his shirt on.
“Hey, take your shirt off too!” You whine and he laughs, pulling off his shirt in one swift go and kicking his sweats and boxers that were both pooling at his ankles. Immediately your hands run down the hard planes of chest, feeling his rippling muscles, your hands scratching at his abs. He shudders at that as he buries his face in your tits, licking and kissing them in a way which has you arching them in his face.
He sets you down on the bed as he grabs his stiff cock, running it up and down your pussy. It touches your clit, which is still sensitive after your previous orgasm, and you let out a little whimper.
“Satoru, stop staring at it like that..” You mumble shyly, as Satoru’s eyes are completely focused on how your pussy is clenching, wanting nothing more than his teasing cock inside.
“Your pussy? S’not my fault it’s so fuckin pretty. Wanna taste it next time.” He mumbles and you flush at his crude words, moaning and bucking your hips as he prods his dick at your entrance.
You close your legs at the intrusion as he slips the tip inside, hissing at the slight burn as he stretches you out. He pries apart your knees with his huge hands, spreading out your pussy to him and you grab the sheets, writhing. He enters you slowly, pulsing inside of you, and suddenly the pain melts into pleasure.
“You can-you can put it fully in now.” You signal and he immediately fills you up, staying still so you can get used to the size. “M-move. Fuck. Please, Satoru, move!” You whimper and he starts thrusting into you, at a deep yet slow pace that has you seeing stars. He kisses you, swallowing your moans as he peppers his kisses down to your neck, sucking and kissing, which you’re sure is gonna leave marks but you’re feeling too good to care at the moment.
Satoru starts whimpering, relishing each time he slides into your warm, gummy walls. “You’re so tight, your pussy is literally suckin’ me in. Shit you’re so gorgeous” he breathes out, watching down at where your bodies are meeting, getting turned on by the lewd slapping sounds filling his room. Your eyes roll back in response, you’re too fucked out to respond. He grabs your legs and pushes them to your chest as you squeal, his cock now drilling into you at a deeper angle. He keeps hitting the right spot each time and you swear that with a few more thrusts you’ll cum again.
“Ah, I'm so close. You sure I can cum inside this tight little hole?” he says, looking you in the eye, as you nod eagerly. “Please, please cum in me. I need it inside of me!” You start incessantly babbling as he chuckles. Thoughts of him fucking a baby into you take over you and you wonder what it would feel like having him cum in you without any birth control.
He grabs your tits, squeezing them harshly, rolling your nipples in your hands, fucking into you at an almost animalistic pace as he is trying to reach his high. You feel that familiar bond in your stomach, as its warmth is threatening to spread all over your body.
“Sa– Satoru!! I’m gonna cum, I’m-“ You start writhing as he moves his hands to hold your hips down, his thrusts becoming sloppier. He reaches down to kiss you messily, biting your bottom lip as you moan into his mouth.
He suddenly stills, filling you to the hilt, breathing heavily as you feel him release hot spurts of cum in you. The thick ropes of his seed paint your walls, suddenly fucking into you harder, even though he’s sensitive after his orgasm, a hand reaching down to play with your clit to help you cum too.
You feel the bond snap as you cum all over his cock, arching your back and grabbing the sheets, your breaths coming out in pants as you lock eyes with Satoru. His hair is falling onto his slightly sweaty forehead, and he’s breathing heavily, as he pulls out. A mixture of both your fluids come out, and he quickly goes to the bathroom and grabs a small cloth, wiping you down and cleaning you.
“You okay? Need me to run a bath?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. You shake your head tiredly, lifting your arms toward him.
“Can you hold me?” Your heart pounds as you meet his gaze, and he smiles down at you—soft, reassuring.
“Of course I can, baby,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against him. Your head nestles into the crook of his neck as his fingers stroke through your hair, his warmth melting away the last traces of exhaustion. He tugs the blankets over both of you, his steady breathing lulling you into a peaceful haze.
Within minutes, sleep claims you both, wrapped in each other’s embrace—completely unaware of the door creaking open downstairs.
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
You creep down the stairs quietly, Satoru’s hand warm in yours. The morning light filters through the windows, casting a soft glow over the living room. After last night, you had called your parents, telling them you were staying over at Ami’s—though you left out a few details.
Both of you are still giggling when Ami suddenly pops out of the kitchen, wielding a spatula like a weapon.
“You guys need to be more quiet. Pretty sure the whole neighborhood heard you,” she grumbles, smacking Satoru’s shoulder with the spatula.
“Ow—why are you hitting me? She was the one making all the noise,” he teases, nudging you with a smirk.
You groan, burying your face in your free hand as Ami winces.
“I did not need to know that. At all.” She glares at him before her eyes narrow suspiciously. “So… are you two, like, dating now or something?”
You tense, looking away but still holding Satoru’s hand. Truthfully, you have no idea where you stand with him.
“If she’d let me, sure,” he says softly, a faint pink dusting his cheeks.
You whip your head around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash.
Ami rolls her eyes. “Whatever. If you hurt her, I’ll kill you myself.” With that, she turns and disappears back into the kitchen.
Satoru chuckles, leading you toward his car to drop you back home. As he unlocks the door, he looks at you, a playful glint in his eye.
“So… what do you say? Wanna go on a date with me?”
hiiii writing is so fun omg i have so many ideas and so much freetime i think i'm gonna write about nerdjo next :3
cw. 18+. semi public sex. sub undertones. breeding kink.
“—ohhhh fuckkkkk,”
he doesn’t understand it— any of it. he doesn’t understand how he, of all people, managed to get you. the it girl on campus— with pretty hairstyles and cutesy nails, flocks of both girls and boys crawling after you for the slightest bit of your attention, is somehow interested in the least known guy around— the lanky, socially awkward physics teacher assistant with fading digimon stickers glued to the back of his worn down computer.
gojo assumes he’s experiencing one hell of a good dream. that’s the only way to explain the insatiable feeling of wet heat enveloping his aching dick. it’s the only way to explain the pornographic sounds of skin slapping echoing in this empty library. it’s the only way to explain why his balls are begging for release with each grind of needy hips rocking against his own.
he doesn’t want to wake up. he feels the cheap fabric of carpet beneath his fingernails from digging them into the floor. his knuckles are turning white from how hard he’s clenching. there’s an abnormal tightening of a knot in his guts begging to be snapped. he can feel beads of sweat forming at his hairline and his foggy glasses are slipping past his nose bridge uncomfortably—
but he doesn’t want to wake up.
planted on the heels of whatever latest trendy shoes you own, you’re riding his cock as if he were your lifeline. god you feel divine— your folds swallowing him into your cunt with such ease and precision, walls clenching down the moment he’s balls deep. he can feel your acrylics scratching at his undercut with one hand while the other holds your body steady down his thigh.
gojo doesn’t think he’s breathing, and frankly, isn’t sure if he wants to. you’re reckless— moaning freely in the emptiness of the establishment and right into the shell of his ear as if your birthright, careless of the thuds of heavy textbooks hitting the floor. there’s a crease in your brows and your jaw hangs slack, glossy lips parted as they release the hymns of your cries,
“—so deep, can feel you in my stomach!”
your tits bounce in clockwise motions. you’d freed yourself from your top sometime between the flirting behind bookshelves and his pikachu drawls dropping down to the floor. the sound of your pussy squelching with every bounce is a memory he wouldn’t forget even on his death bed— cunt so wet he can hardly feel his own dick in you.
the pad of your thumb grazes his bottom lip, and you lean forward to catch it between yours. he’s frozen stiff— the slip of your tongue in his mouth, your overwhelming sweetness invading his senses. he’s moaning pathetically, growing some security in the muffled sounds, so overstimulated by this insatiable pleasure that his arms start to feel weak.
your tongue swipes at his lips before nibbling on the flesh, “—taste so good,” he feels your lips mouthing against his own, and wishes he was able to focus for a split second on what you told him, but the ache in balls are a telltale that this euphoric dream is drawing to an end.
he squints his eyes shut. he tries to focus on the latest chapter of his latest obsession manga and theories he’s conspired. he recalls the sneak of his wrinkly old professor’s ass crack from his early lecture. he thinks back on this auction he’s seen online for retro limited edition video games. did he ever end up submitting that biochem lab assignment due—
“gojo.”
he snaps his eyes open. he didn’t realize he’d clenched his entire facial muscles until the moment he was able to see you again— only releasing those muscles feeling tightness in his cheeks (amongst other places)(read: his cock).
you’ve slowed down your pace. you’ve switched your movements from bounces to grinding. he can feel his tip prodding at your gummy walls. your breath fans his cupid’s bow and he’s only now noticing how close in proximity you both are. he can feel your heartbeat against his chest, and he’s positive you can feel his stomach clenching against your own.
he begins to feel more of your body weight on his, a feeling he definitely wants to get accustomed to, as you shift from your feet to your knees. your hand on his thigh trails upwards past his trail of hair, sliding up past the ridges of his abs, over the planes of his chest and meet at his nape with its other duo. there’s an aroma of vanilla and cherries exuding off you—
heisenburg’s uncertainty principle. star wars mandalorian culture. the roswell ufo incident. fucking neon genesis evangelion’s a cruel angel’s thesis—
“you don’t like me?” you ask him, all doey eyed like. it doesn’t sound like a legitimate question, but his ‘huh’ does draw more into a whine when you intentionally clamp down on his dick. he doesn’t miss the mischievous glint in your eyes.
gojo bites down on his lower lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the carpet. his body releases a shudder at the chills creeping up his spine when you trace a finger down the slope of his neck, “w-what?” he asks weakly, huffing as his toes curl in his socks.
this time, you cock your head just barely to the side, and he watches your gaze trail from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips. despite the agonizingly slow pace, you never stop riding him. his cock is still graced by your warmth, still snatching his soul through his slit. your lashes bat twice before glancing back up at his eyes.
“you don’t like me.” you’re not asking this time, your tone dripping in seduction and like a fool, finds himself swayed. you’re teasing him— he can see it in the way the corner of your lips quirk into your infamous smile. you’ve got him wrapped all around your pretty finger— he knows it and you definitely know it.
as if he was anybody to not like you. your ass cheeks clench when you drive your body forward, gripping on his cock so tight he can feel the wind knocked out his lungs, “no! are you, ngh, crazy— of course i do—”
“because i like you.” it falls short of a whisper, but the vibrations of your words against his lips shoot right to his heart and balls, and he knows his blotchy cheeks are now flushed red for an entirely different reason.
he answers faster than his mind can process, his stomach jumping with butterflies and an oncoming orgasm. your eyes won’t leave his— like a deceiving siren baring deep into his soul and rendering him vulnerable before consuming his entire being. not too far from his reality, hips bucking upwards as desperately as possible to emphasize his immediate answer, “i like you too—”
“you won’t look at me,” gojo hadn’t realized he shied away from your gaze, pouring his entire focus on not spilling both his heart and cum right into you, “talk to me.”
“i-it’s just, um,” he tries to flick his eyes back onto yours, but you’re still staring so intensely behind siren eyes and still rocking your hips. your fluids drip past your cunt and down his sack, before staining the carpet, “i’m a—mmph, nobody and you’re— well, you’re you,” he feels a hot tongue glide over the accumulated sweat on his neck and humps up again, “y’re just so pretty and every time i look at you i get the urge to c-cum but,” your teeth sink into his jugular before nibbling and he whines, throwing his head back, “i want— need you to cum first. . .”
there’s a beat of silence for a while. you’ve even halted your grinding altogether. he prays to god he didn’t mess up the one good thing that’s happened to him in all his twenty one years of living. you’ve even popped his now bruised skin from your lips— hovering right over the mark you left on him. pleasure licks at his limbs feverishly, back arching in hopes to dig even deeper (if possible) in your pussy.
you pull away from his neck and the tip of your nose is back to grazing his own. your usually styled hair is now a mess, your skin dampening from moisture and your lip gloss now swapped for your and his saliva— your overall classic, picture perfect image completely abandoned,
and he doesn’t think you’ve looked any prettier.
“so,” you draw out, freeing a hand from his locks to graze over the throbbing love bite at his neck. gojo sniffs, pushing his foggy glasses back up on his bridge with the back of his hand, and you caress the throbbing flesh, “the problem is when you look huh. . .?”
his neck is suddenly released from blissful torture and he feels his frames coming off his face from no effort of his own. his vision slowly fades and his pupils dilate to accommodate to his now poor quality of sight, “what are you—”
and his breath hitches. he can only make out your shape through your sinful curves but there’s no mistake from your silhouette— your hands, now holding his glasses hostage, press at his chest, “trust me,” you apply firm pressure from your palms to his upper body, and he feels himself sinking into the floor, back meeting the dirty carpet.
trust you? he’d lay his life on the line for a woman like you.
his fingers spread as his palms face the sky, and his breath staggered. the bookshelves, windows and study rooms are all blurry as fuck— which is both off putting and extremely risky since library hours were still valid at this time, but despite it all, it felt as if he could see you clear as day. gojo would usually never put his academics on the line, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of possibly getting caught having sex with the finest girl in school in a public library had his cock twitching incessantly.
god, he is just so happy to be here.
your fingers slide his glasses atop your nose bridge, and your cheeks split into a cheeky smile, hips beginning to roll back into their previous tempo. he feels your hands grabbing his own, before resting them at your hips. he’s a greedy man, and since the opportunity may only come once in his lifetime, he slides his hands further to your ass., and with a gulp, grabs the flesh greedily. damn— it hardly fits in his palms.
there’s a symphony of moans coming from you both when you lift your hips up, and it’s downright disgusting how turned on he gets at your essence trickling down his shaft and past his balls. your pussy lips drool and latch onto his tip tightly, before entirely releasing him and slipping your hand between your thighs. you kneed his nuts, fondling the testicles between your digits expertly and his back arches off the floor, “shouldn’t be an issue anymore, yeah?” you hum.
“y-yeah— oh god, yes,” gojo nods dumbly, toes curling in his socks as you proceed to stroke his cock. his tip is weeping in pre cum blended with your own wetness, and the faster you flick your wrist, the tighter his stomach contracts. he’s lasted quite some time now, considering this being his first time and all, but there’s only so much a man can hold back. his fingernails dig crescent moon shapes into the mounds of your ass as his hips chase after your touch with every stroke. “w-wait, fuck, i’m gonna cum—”
“yeah?” you encourage him, hunching just over his weeping dick, still holding him at his base. you drag his tip in between your lips, back and forth, while your other hand feels him up at his abs. “where do you wanna finish? on my face?” he whines, mindlessly humping and your smirk deepens as you slowly sink down, “on my tits?” gojo shakes his head, and feels drool coming from the corner of his lips. his limbs are on fire and his groin feels like it’s on the verge of explosion, “on my ass?” you’re about halfway down, “or. . . inside?”
“please,” he doesn’t care if he’s begging. snowy lashes bat open as his teary unfocused eyes adjust to the dimmed lights. even your silhouette is sexy, “please lemme cum inside, i-i’ll do anything.”
“hmm, anything?” you purr, knees finally hitting the floor as you straddle him once more. he lets out a guttural groan at the familiar feel of your silky walls entrapping his cock. his mind is fucking hazy and despite never having consuming alcohol, he feels drunk.
“yes,” he pleads, rolling his hips impossibly deeper into you, euphoric pleasure shooting in his bloodstream, “a-anything you want, i swear,” at the sudden intrusion, you let out a loud gasp when his tip bumps into your cervix and drop your body forward, arms giving out.
chest to chest, skin to skin, your lips hover over his as your back dips into an arch, forcing a penetration deeper in your guts. your palms are pressed flat onto the floor at the side of his head, and he can make out his glasses sitting lazily on the ball of your nose. he slides his hands up your sides, kneading at every inch of your flesh, before sliding back down to your ass.
“even my homework? assignments?” you tease breathily, a strangled moan ripping out your throat when his knees push up and fucks into you. your body jerks forward as his feet plant to the floor, hands still gripping on your ass.
when he snaps his hips up, you roll yours down, and the matching intensity sends his brain haywire. he’s desperate for release, forcing your hips down as he nudges his cock languidly into your cunt. his jaw falls slack and he nods again, dumbly, “ngh, for the rest of the s-school year,”
“that easy with you?” you giggle, but is easily interrupted when he leans forward to catch your lips in a messy kiss. there’s a shit ton of saliva involved, some even escapes past your mouths and down your jaws, but he couldn’t care any less—you tasted heavenly. he wishes he had the time to eat your pussy, he’s positive you taste holier down there.
“it’s your world.” gojo moans, snaking his hands from your ass to wrap around your upper body. now caught in his embrace, you let your head fall limply into the crook of his neck as he works his dick in and out of you. he means what he said— it is your world, and he’s nothing more than a happy servant. “i’ll do it all— bring your books to class, rub your feet— i’ll bark if you need me to— just, please, please, please let me cum inside.”
your moans vibrating from his neck run straight to his ears and fuels him further. he’s thrusting relentlessly— there’s no set pace at all, and he’s so close to finishing he’s completely forgotten about wanting you to cum first. he finally understands why everybody obsesses over sex— he never wants to let you go.
your head pushes up from his neck, nosing at his jaw. he feels your hands cradling his hair, and your lips pressing kisses at the corner of his mouth. his heart skips a beat— he revels in the attention you’re giving him, even if it’s just for the moment. he knows he won’t ever be this lucky again, so he might as well enjoy the ride while he’s here.
“you wanna breed my pussy?” you bite your lip, each stroke in your cunt jerking the glasses down the slope of your nose. despite the dense flog clouding the lens, he can feel your eyes on him. he nods desperately, tightening his hold on you, and the new angle has your clit dragging against his pelvis, “mmph— okay, yeah — put a baby in me, freak.”
and so he does. he thrusts as spurts of cum shoots inside your womb. his balls tighten as his hips rut, arms clutching onto your body with every fibre in him. you smell good, feel good, look good— and your cunt milks him dry for whatever he’s worth.
his orgasm feels short of an eternity yet simultaneously a second, his soul having transcended into an outwardly dimension. and it’s only when you scoot your ass upwards, sliding a hand between both warm bodies, that you collect his cum on the pad of your fingers. he blinks hazily, zeroing his focus when he sees you pop your fingers into your mouth.
“mhm,” you hum at the taste. he’s panting heavily, body riding a euphoric high he’s yet to come down from. you don’t seem to mind, leaning forward to catch his lips once again. and he lets you, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue. when you pull away, there’s a thin string of cum induced saliva pulling at your lips. “‘s my world, right? want my pussy in your mouth.”
thinking about being idol!gojo’s fan and partaking in the tits out for satoru gojo trend, posting a picture of your favorite gojo photocard propped against your tits, showing just a sliver of your lace bra. you knew that gojo was the type to appreciate these types of trends, that it went to his head, but you never thought he’d actually see your post; there were thousands of other fans posting their own pictures. it was just a fun trend to you, nothing more. little did you know, not only had gojo seen it, but he had also jerked off to it.
naturally, when he had found out about the trend, he immediately scrolled through the tag, looking through all of his fans pictures. however, when he got to your picture, he couldn’t help but click onto your profile and look through the rest of your media; he had no idea that he had such a pretty girl like you for a fan. he feels himself grow hard as he scrolls through your page, coming across your thirst tweets for him. he’s not sure if he’s being creepy or not, but all it takes is one more look at your perfect tits for him to undo his belt and pull his cock free. besides, you did post those for him to see.
he pumps his cock as he looks at your pictures, wishing he could fuck your tits and come all over them. he knows you’d worship his cock like a good slut, if your tweets were anything to go off of, and it only turns him on more. when he accidentally swipes to the top of your profile, he notices your age— you weren’t even old enough to legally drink. fuck, he knows it’s wrong, but just the thought of fucking someone as young as you sends him over the edge. he desperately fists his cock, groaning as he comes, spraying cum all over your pictures.
Pregnancy, usually a positive outcome of love between two partners that love each other deeply. But Pregnancy resulting from someone using you for their own pleasure is far from a positive outcome
You were supposed to be invisible—just another student trying to survive high school, slipping under the radar. But Gojo Satoru never let you have that luxury. He tormented you, humiliated you, made you feel small. Then, one day, he took the last thing you had left: your innocence, your choice. And just like that, he moved on.
𝐂.𝐖: bully Gojo Satoru x female reader , pregnancy , sexual assault & harassment , mentions of abortion , mature themes/MDNI , bullying , dubcon
If you‘re not comfortable with these warnings please don‘t read this series.
he pretends he doesn’t care. pretends he doesn’t watch you pick your clothes off the floor, an emotionless expression on your face as you dress yourself.
he can’t admit how much it hurts him. how much his chest aches at the sight of you crawling out of bed beside him to leave his sheets cold and empty.
satoru won’t admit how much it kills him.
how he presses his palms to his face the moment his door clicks shut, how he sits up in bed and lets the guilt of it all consume him body and soul.
he hurt you. he hurt you bad.
and he knows he’s bad for you. he knows it’s wrong of him to call you in the middle of the night, text you telling you he misses you, because he knows deep down you still love him.
he’s using you, he knows he is.
but he can’t let you go, he’ll leave claw marks on everything he built with you before letting it go willingly.
“why don’t you stay, baby? …just for tonight,”
“…i don’t think that’s a good idea, satoru.”
he wants to beg you. get on his knees and cry against you, tell you he’s sorry, that he fucked up.
summary: the jjk men as different pôrn plots! + drabbles for each!
featuring: [separate] fem!reader x satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, & yuta okkotsu
contents: 18+ nsfw! MDNI. [gojo] mutual masturbation, perv reader, mild degradation, fingering, p in v. [geto] power play, implied consent, fem!reader receives oral, mild degradation. [nanami] m!receives oral, mild degradation, finishing inside reader's mouth. [toji] fingering, hickeys, squirting, implied p in v. [yuta] nerdy implied-virgin yuta, exhibitionism, p in v, playing with him under the table (w your foot), overstim, creampie
wc: 3.5k
a/n: just some thirsts over the jjk men! (the titles are a little cheesy, i tried to make them like avg clickbait pôrn titles lmao). enjoy!
GOJO SATORU . . . spying on my brother’s best friend while he masturbates!
You yawn, rubbing your bleary eyes as you sit up in bed. You and your brother, Geto, decided to crash at his best-friend Gojo’s place for the night. Stumbling out of the bedroom, you squint into the darkness. “Where the hell is the kitchen? I just need water,” you mutter. But before you can continue forward, you see a sliver of light glowing in the darkness from Gojo’s room, followed by- moaning?
You quietly pad to his door, cracked open the tiniest bit, and peek inside to find-
“Haah- ugh, fuck-”
Gojo curses, fisting his cock desperately. He’s completely naked, sprawled out on his bed, sweat dripping down his lean muscles as he gasps for breath. A hand slaps over your mouth as your eyes go wide at the sight.
Something throbs in your lower abdomen, and you clench your thighs together as his moans continue. “Hngh- ah, shit.” When his hand starts moving faster, his glistening abs tightening, you bite your lip and slip a hand into your tiny shorts, pressing your fingers into your already-dripping hole. Throwing his head back, he bucks his hips into his hand and it takes you every fiber of self control not to moan, thumbing at your aching clit. “Ohh, fuck…hnngh, ugh-”
He looks ethereal like this, snowy white hair falling in elegant strands over his handsome face. Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and guttural groans slipping from his throat, you’ve never seen a sight so arousing, especially when you look at his cock; pale and pretty and pinkish at the tip, weeping precum, you drool at the sight of it, imagining how good it’d feel stretching you out, imagining how easily it would kiss against all of your most sensitive spots with that length and girth.
You’re on the verge of an orgasm when he slows his hand to a stop, catching his breath and closing his eyes. Sweat drips off the tips of his fluffy white hair, and he exhales sharply as his thick cock twitches violently in his hand. Shivering, you’re about to slip away to finish yourself in the safety of your room before suddenly you hear, “Did you enjoy the show, gorgeous?”
In an instant, Gojo’s standing in front of you, door swung wide open, his smooth, damp skin inches away from you. “Wha-?! I- um-” you stutter, avoiding his electric gaze with a blush. “I- I wasn’t- ”
“Don’t lie, sweetheart,” he breathes, tucking an arm around your waist, and you gasp when he drags you into his room, closing the door with a click! Tossing you onto the bed, he rips off your flimsy shorts and baggy shirt in one smooth motion, leaving you bare and quivering underneath his broad figure.
His bright blue eyes never leave your face for a moment as he lowers his mouth onto one of your stiff nipples, licking and sucking and kissing with abandon. You gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure, whimpering out his name when he slips two long, elegant fingers into your sopping cunt.
“Dirty, dirty girl,” he purrs into your ear. “Gettin’ off to your big brother’s best friend? You’re so-” He scissors his fingers. “-fuckin’ filthy.” Gojo smirks down at you, handsome face painted with lust. “You’re already dripping and ready f’me. What a slut.” You try to muffle your sobs as Gojo presses his twitching tip against your clit, smearing his pearly pre-cum over your entrance before slamming his entire length into you.
“Oh, fuck, baby, you feel so good around me,” Gojo moans, dick throbbing eagerly in your wet heat as you cry out his name. He grinds slowly against you, stretching you out even more, letting his girth pulse inside your velvet walls. You can feel every ridge and vein of his hot length inside you, and it sends your brain into overdrive. “K-keep going, Gojo, jus’ move already!” You whine, weakly beating your feverish hands against his chest, and he chuckles, shoving two fingers down your throat.
“Careful what you wish for, darling.”
SUGURU GETO . . . casting couch audition with the hot interviewer!
“So, you’re here to audition for our talent agency?”
You blink at the startlingly handsome man interviewing you, faint blush spreading over your face before responding, “Yes! That’s right.”
“Alright, sounds great. My name is Suguru Geto, and I’ll be interviewing you today.” He shifts in the chair across from you, crossing his legs. “So, why do you want this job?”
“Well, I’ve always wanted to be an actress or singer since I was a kid, and it’s been my dream ever since!”
“Mm, I see. What makes you qualified for a position at this agency?”
“After doing my research, I think the talents I have are an excellent fit for this agency in particular!”
Geto stares at you for a moment, and you fidget on the couch. His gaze is piercing, and the way he looks at you feels strange, like he’s undressing you with his eyes. “Mhm. I agree, actually,” he murmurs, standing from his chair. “Oh, really? That’s great!” You exclaim.
He says nothing more, taking long, relaxed strides until he’s standing right in front of you, towering over your figure. “As a part of the agency’s protocol, I’m going to need you to undress. We need to assess how well you’ll do based off your…physical features.” His fingertips glide over your blouse, and you shiver.
“A-ah, right,” you stammer. Shifting nervously under his broad silhouette, you slowly pull off your blouse and your skirt. Head bowed, you stare down at your trembling hands, wondering why you’re feeling something damp between your legs.
“Hmm.” Tilting his head, Geto’s obsidian eyes rake over you. “You’re gonna have to take these off too, doll,” he breathes, fingering the strap of your lacy bra with one hand and the band of your matching panties with the other. “U-um, okay, sir.” You nearly whimper out, and Geto bites down on his lip.
Unclipping your bra and letting it fall, your nipples harden as the cool air meets your skin. Swallowing nervously, your hands then shift down to your panties, tugging the delicate lace off. You try to hide the obvious wet patch staining the fabric, but Geto smirks when he sees them.
His cool hands brush over your thighs, nudging your legs open. “Ah! W-wait, sir, please-” you gasp, clenching your legs shut with embarrassment. “I’m-”
“You’re what?” He breathes, hot breath raising goosebumps on your skin. “You’re wet for me, aren’t you?” His voice is low and husky. “Like a little slut.”
You flush crimson, thighs trembling. “I- It’s not like that- ” He grabs your knees and forces them apart. “What’s got you dripping all over the couch, then?” Geto chuckles, tracing circles dangerously close to your sopping hole. “Hngh, wait, sir-!”
But when he starts pressing kisses on your inner thighs, the words vanish from your lips. “What? You gonna say that we can’t do this?” He’s smirking like a devil, placing kitten licks closer and closer to your twitching heat. “B-because we can’t,” you whimper. “Then why’re you a dripping wet mess?” Geto laughs. “Slutty girl. You wanted me to fuck you stupid the second you walked in here, hm?” His tongue finally licks a burning stripe at your hole, and you whine. “S-sir, s-stop- angh-!”
“Haah- you tell me to stop, but you’re still whining like a whore,” he groans into your cunt. “Callin’ me sir with that slutty voice—‘S-sir, we can’t!’” he mocks, nose nuzzling into your clit. Geto laps at your hole so patiently, unraveling you so skillfully as he kisses and sucks at your clit, relishing in your whimpers and hiccups.
Before long, you’re creaming on his tongue, trembling and gasping his name as he pulls his pants off.
“Now, shall we get started?”
NANAMI KENTO . . . sexy secretary relieves her boss during office hours!
“I wonder what’s got Mr. Nanami so worked up,” one of your coworkers muses, watching your boss vanish into his office, door slamming.
“I think it’s the new project coming up,” you reply, sifting through the tall stack of papers left on your desk. “They dumped it on us with no warning, and we’ve got a tight schedule already.” Sighing, you rub your temples.
“Wonder if there’s any way for him to destress. I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Miss Private Secretary,” she nudges you with a twinkle in her eye. Glancing at the closed door of Mr. Nanami’s office, you can’t help but wonder if you can find a way to help him relax…
The next morning, you show up to work wearing a tight dress shirt, pressing just right against your chest, and an equally tight pencil skirt, one that hugs your hips perfectly. You wonder if it’s too much by the time you’re at the office, pulling countless stares, but it’s too late for second thoughts.
You feel a spark of satisfaction when you walk into Nanami’s office and notice his eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Good morning, Mr. Nanami,” you say evenly, placing a cup of coffee and stack of papers on his desk. “These are the reports that have been submitted…”
And although he should be paying attention to your summary of the bi-monthly reports, all he can think about is how delicious your tits look squeezed against your shirt, and how alluring your ass looks, perked up in that tight skirt.
“Mr. Nanami? Did you get all that?”
You blink so innocently at him that he feels his cock twitch in his pants.
“R-Right, yes,” he coughs, covering the faint blush on his face. “So, about the new project? Any news?”
You frown, shaking your head. “Unfortunately not. The deadline is still set for two months from now.” Noticing the sigh he lets out, you pause. “U-um, sir?” You say hesitantly. He glances up at you. “Yes?”
“Is there…anything I can do? For you?” you manage out. He raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean- you’ve been so worked up lately, and with the new project, things have been even more stressful…” you fidget with the collar of your dress shirt. “I just want to make sure you’re doing alright, sir.”
Nanami’s cock twitches again, and he curses when he feels blood rush down to his loins. “How would you suggest I…destress?” he breathes, looking up at you with hooded eyes. You open your mouth, blushing, but no words come out. “Why don’t you just show me, doll?”
“Mm- mmpf!” your moans are muffled around his cock, jaw aching as he pumps his length in and out of your throat. “Oh, fuck,” Nanami hisses. “You feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.” Head tipping back, he brings a broad, veiny hand to your head, guiding you up and down his dick.
“Fuckin’ slutty secretary,” he growls as you choke on his fat tip, balls pressed against your chin as drool leaks from your mouth onto his girth. “Probably wanted this the second I hired you,” Thrusting his cock hard into you, you whine around him, tears leaking from your eyes. He brushes a tear off your face with a deceivingly delicate touch before shoving his length down your throat with a rough thrust once more. “Shit, I could’ve been using you like this for years,” Nanami swears, his balls tightening, preparing for his release.
“Coulda been using this-” Thrust. “-slutty-” Thrust. “-throat-” Thrust. “-for years!” You gag as Nanami cums into your mouth, hot white ropes spurting into your throat. Blinking away tears as his salty seed coats your tongue, he pulls out of your mouth, a lewd string of drool and cum connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.
He’s panting and red-faced looking down at you—all watery doe eyes and puffy lips covered in his cum. You think that he’s gotten his stress out, but when he grabs your waist and bends you over his desk ripping your skirt off, you squeak.
You giggle, gently poking Megumi’s chubby cheek. He’s fast asleep, tucked into your lap, as the superhero movie he insistedon watching plays in the background. “Tch. Little brat,” Toji huffs, though you don’t miss the affection in his voice. “I’ll put him to bed.” Gently scooping him up, you tuck Megumi into his bed, stroking his hair softly before hopping back to the living room where Toji is still sitting.
You’d been taking care of Megumi for months now, growing fond of the grumpy, black-haired menace of a kid. But you also found an unexpected bonus in Megumi’s dad, Toji, who is by far the hottest man you’d ever laid your eyes on. He’s all muscle and broad shoulders and seductive green eyes and oh, that deep, husky voice-
You clench your thighs together, feeling wetness spread on your panties. You can only imagine what he’s like under those grey sweats, and you shiver at the thought. But you don’t let yourself linger on the thought. What you need to do is go home quickly and take care of the issue that’s dripping between your legs—
“Why don’tcha stay the night, doll?”
Turning your head, your heart thumps against your chest. “Oh, no, I couldn’t bother you like that, Mr. Fushiguro,” You stammer, shaking your head. He narrows his green eyes at you. “I’m not askin’, doll face. It’s too dark out already, just stay the night. The brat will be happy to see ya in the morning, anyways.”
Swallowing, you resign. “Sure thing, then,” you reply reluctantly, rubbing your thighs together as subtly as you can manage. Toji notices, and with a grin creeping at his scarred lips, asks, “Is there something you need to do at home?”
Startled, you panic. “N-no! Not all all, Mr. Fushiguro!” you reassure, waving your hands frantically. Giving you an amused look, he stands, stretching his back with a yawn. You can’t help but admire the muscles rippling under the tight black tee he’s wearing— no! No, you can’t be thirsting over Megumi’s dad right now! You shake your head, mind spinning with lust.
You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even notice him now towering over you, muscled arms crossed over his chest. “It’s Toji for you, doll,” he breathes, leaning down to hover in front of your face. “None of that ‘Mr. Fushiguro’ shit. Call me Toji.”
The tension between you two has your thighs pressed together again, and before you know it-
“Mmpf! Ahn, T-Toji!” you sob, tears pricking at your eyes. He has you pressed against the wall of his room, your legs wrapped around his narrow waist as he pistons his thick fingers in and out of your sopping cunt.
“Quiet down, doll face,” Toji whispers, grinning. “Wouldn’t wanna wake up the kid, right?”
You whine in response as his thumb rubs quick circles over your clit, bouncing you up and down on his fingers. “B-But Toji- when you- ugh!” Slapping a hand over your mouth, you try to muffle your moans as he sucks hickeys onto your neck. He nips at your bare collarbone, working his way down to your perked nipples with reckless abandon. “Cute lil’ thing,” he grunts into your breasts, fondling one with the hand not stuffed up your pussy. “Soon as I saw ya, knew I needed to have ya. Knew this-” He places a harsh slap on your ass. “-fuckin’ slutty lil’ body would listen to me so well.”
“Toooji- ” you moan, eyes rolling back into your head as he thrusts his fingers into you even harder. “C’mon, doll, you’ve already cum once on my fingers. Gimme another,” he presses, smirking as your slick drips down his wrist. You wail out his name, tongue lolling out, drool dripping down your face and chest as you squirt all over his stomach, legs trembling.
Toji chuckles, licking his slick-covered fingers, admiring your panting, blissed out face. “Ya haven’t even had my cock yet. Can’t believe you’re cumming this hard on just my fingers, pretty.” He picks up your limp body, placing you on the bed, ass in the air.
“But you’re a good girl, right?” He settles his body flush against yours, and you feel his massive cock rub against your ass. “You can take all of me, right?” And you nod wantonly in response, grinding back against him with a whine. He licks his lips with a crooked smirk.
“Good fuckin’ girl.”
YUTA OKKOTSU . . . slutty classmate convinces nerdy tutor to fuck in the library!
“Focus on the problems, Miss.”
Your math tutor, Yuta, taps on the worksheet in front of you. “This is an important concept, and will most definitely be on the exam.” With a sigh, you drag your eyes away from the library scenery, picking up your pencil. “Yeah yeah, I got it,” you say dismissively, scribbling down some messy answers before returning to your eyes elsewhere.
Picking up the worksheet, Yuta frowns. “Miss, these answers are completely wrong,” he says, distraught, crossing over your scribbles with a red pen. “You need to use this equation here, and you can’t apply this rule because of the domain…” he blabs on and on, and you find yourself only paying attention to how cute he looks when he’s frustrated.
To be completely honest, you’ve wanted to fuck Yuta the moment you saw him. Shy, nerdy, and utterly adorable, he’s definitely your type. A wicked idea sprouts in your mind as Yuta keeps talking, and you quietly slip a shoe off.
“Miss? Were you paying attention?” Yuta looks at you with large eyes. “Mhm, ‘course I was,” you hum. “But whaddaya say we take a break from all this?” You smirk at him, extending your leg underneath the table, gliding your foot up his leg until it hovers over his crotch.
You relish in the way he flushes red, shifting uncomfortably. “M-Miss, what are you doing?” He stammers, and you rub your foot over the hardening bulge in his slacks with a grin. “What do you mean, Yuta?” You say innocently, leaning towards him. He blushes harder as you press down on his erection. “This- isn’t appropriate! We’re in the library, we- you shouldn’t-” he bites down on his lip. “Shouldn’t what, Yuta?”
You toy with him some more, rubbing circles over his hard-on. “Does it not feel good?” You murmur, noting the muffled whine that slips out of his mouth. “M-Miss, please,” he chokes out. “Not- ugh!” He whimpers, and you feel something damp spread over his crotch.
You pause, shocked for a moment, before a wide grin spreads across your entire face as you pull your foot back. “Looks like you liked that a lot, Yuta,” you muse, standing up. “Wha- where are you going?” He stutters. You walk to his side of the table, pulling him to his feet. “It’s so late, Yuta, and the library is practically empty. Follow me,” you wink at him.
Stumbling after you, he covers his cum-stained pants with embarrassment as you lead him through the bookshelves to a secluded corner of the library. “What are we doing here?” Yuta pants, face still flushed from your earlier ministrations. “What do you think?” You press him into the closest bookshelf, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss.
He freezes, barely reacting to the kiss, and you pull away after a moment. “D’you not want this, Yuta?” You ask softly, staring into his eyes. He stares back, quiet for a moment, before he grabs the back of your head with a surprising amount of fierceness, pushing your lips back into his with a bruising force.
Yuta drags his lips away with a gasp, but before you can catch your breath, he’s ripping both your pants off, rubbing his shockingly large cock against your dripping pussy. “Yuta, w-wait-!” You squeal as he thrusts himself into you, rocking his hips against yours desperately. He kisses you, even harsher than before, moaning an apology into your lips. “M’sorry, just- just need you, need you so bad- hngh!” He’s whining, rutting against you like an animal in heat.
“A-ahh, Yuta,” you whimper, weeping cunt throbbing at the lewd plap-plap-plap your pussy makes when his balls slap against your ass. Before you know it, you’re creaming on his cock, arousal drenching his length as he keeps bucking into you. “Oh-ungh, Yuta- it’s too- too much!” You sob, your overstimulated clit throbbing as he reaches a hand down to rub it. “Jus- jus’ gimme one more, pretty girl,” he gasps, hips drilling you at an inhuman pace. “Want you cumming on my cock one- more- time!”
You muffle a scream as he pulls another orgasm out of your body, made all the more sweet by the feeling of his hot cum spraying inside you, filling you up so deliciously.
Head dizzy, you lean your head forward on his broad shoulder. “Ugh, Yuta,” you gasp out. “Are you- gonna pull out?”
He looks at you almost guiltily, and you frown. “Why’re you looking at me like that-huh?”
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