⸝⸝⸝ when they notice how many failed dates their dear roommate goes through , all nerd!gojo and nerd!choso want to do help !
❤︎ cw 𓈒 afab!r ◟ pervy roommates but it's out of pure intentions ◟ explicit content mdni!! ◟ dub-con? ◟ fíngering ◟ f. & m. oral ◟ unprotected piv ◟ 3some ◟ reverse cowgirl ◟ backshots ◟ overstim ◟ dacryphilia ◟ dirty talk ◟ cúmshot / facial .
❤︎ wordcount 𓈒 5.1k.
notes 𓈒 ࣪⊹ didn’t know whether to do nerdjo or nerdcho so i chose the only reasonable alternative #boaf
if someone had told you a year ago that you’d be sharing a tiny apartment with two ridiculously attractive geniuses, you’d say they were out of their mind.
but that wouldn’t have turned out to be so unbelievable after all.
it was a three-bedroom not too far from campus, the kind of place that had “character” (read: peeling paint in the hallway and a window that only opened if you sweet-talked it). you’d moved in just over eleven months ago after answering a suspiciously cheap ad on one of the uni bulletins, and since then the three of you had settled into a rhythm so comfortable it felt dangerous.
the first weeks were definitely awkward, that much is certain. they could barely look you in the eyes for more than three minutes, and it felt like they may have been avoiding you altogether. who could blame them? they expected some struggling art major or lab geek to end up living with them, not a pretty girl who seemed so eager to get to know them.
you did grow on them soon enough, thankfully. and soon after that, it was hard to imagine never having been friends with them.
choso noticed everything first. he always did. he was the type to catalog details the way other people breathed—quietly, obsessively, without drawing attention. at 6:47 in the morning on a random spring day, he sat at the kitchen island in his sleepwear, hair loose and brushing his shoulders, glasses sliding down his nose as he pretended to read a dense neuroscience paper on his laptop. in reality, his peripheral vision was locked on you.
you shuffled in wearing the same oversized university hoodie you always stole from the laundry pile—it was technically his, but you’d claimed it three months ago and he’d never asked for it back, not when you just looked too comfortable in it —the hem brushed the tops of your bare thighs.
your hair was a mess, the wrinkles of your pillow pressed into your cheek, and you were yawning so wide he could see the pink of your tongue. you didn’t notice him tracking the way the hoodie rode up when you reached for the top-shelf mugs, exposing the soft underside of your ass and the faint lace edge of yesterday’s panties.
months ago the sight would’ve made him freeze up and his brain blue-screen, an incessant flatlining beeeeeeep ringing in his ears. but now he’s seen enough, albeit accidentally, to only notice a minimal shift in his breathing.
“morning, cho,” you mumbled, voice still gravelly from sleep. you stopped behind his stool, draping yourself against his back lazily, chin hooked on his shoulder to peer at his screen. “you’re up early again. didn’t you finish that paper last night?”
“couldn’t sleep,” he lied, voice low and even. the truth was he’d spent the last four hours on a private reddit tab titled r/howtoeatpussy, cross-referencing user studies with actual anatomical diagrams from his med-school textbooks. it was… personal research, just out of curiosity.
gojo burst in thirty seconds later like a tornado in human form, white hair sticking up in every direction. he was wearing only black boxers and an open button-up shirt he hadn’t bothered to button, making a triumphant sound when he found the pants he was looking for hung by the window.
“morning!” he slung an arm around your shoulders after successfully dressing himself, pulling you into his chest with zero regard for personal space. you laughed and shoved at him half-heartedly, your cheek pressing against the warm, bare skin of his torso. when you first moved in, you were sure satoru hated your guts. while choso was just a bit cold, he seemed downright judgemental of everything you said or did. now he could barely stay away from you. his hand lingered a second too long at the small of your back, thumb brushing the strip of skin where your hoodie had ridden up again. “rough night? you weren’t back until later than usual.”
you groaned, peeling yourself away to pour coffee into three mismatched mugs. “don’t even. i tried that dating app again. guy was hot, talked a big game about ‘knowing what women want,’ then spent forty-five minutes on missionary and asked if i came. i faked it so hard i pulled a muscle in my thigh.”
choso’s fingers tightened on his mug. satoru’s grin sharpened, but neither of them said anything except the usual supportive noises—“what a loser,” “you deserve better,” “we’ll egg his car if you want.” they were good at that part. experts, even.
STEP 1 ❤︎ MAKE OBSERVATIONS AND IDENTIFY THE EXISTING PROBLEM !
what they were also experts at, was noticing anything and everything about anything and everything. you just happened to be a common subject lately. you and your failed dates.
so when they started noticing that theme more often, it was only natural for them to want to help you. and true to the scientific method, they wanted to do it all right.
well, admittedly the observations started from the moment you moved in. but by now they were too hard to ignore.
observation #1: you were chronically under-fucked. not in quantity (though the frequency of your dates had dropped lately) but in quality. the frustrated little sighs you made when you thought the apartment was empty. the way you’d limp slightly after a bad night, rubbing at your lower back like the guy hadn’t even bothered with foreplay.
the soft, bitten-off sounds that sometimes drifted through the thin wall separating your bedroom from choso’s at 1 a.m. when you thought you were being quiet. he’d mapped the exact pitch of your vibrator on his phone’s audio analyzer app. for science, obviously.
observation #2: your body responded to the smallest things. when satoru ruffled your hair and called you “good girl” as a joke, your breath would hitch for half a second. when choso absentmindedly rubbed the knot between your shoulder blades after you’d been hunched over your laptop for six hours, your eyes would flutter and you’d lean into his hand like a cat. it was safe to assume you harbored some attraction for them at the very least.
you never noticed how your thighs pressed together when they both crowded you on the couch for movie night, their legs bracketing yours, heat bleeding through thin fabric.
observation #3: you trusted them completely. blindly. you’d walk around in tiny sleep shorts and a braless tank top, nipples faintly visible through the fabric when the ac kicked on, shrugging “it’s just us, who cares.” you’d cry on their shoulders after bad days, let them tuck you into bed when you fell asleep during horror movies, let satoru carry you to your room when you were too tipsy to walk straight.
you had no idea the way your head tipped back against his chest exposed the long line of your throat, or how your fingers curled into choso’s shirt like you were anchoring yourself to him.
despite it being less formal than he was accustomed to, satoru kept a private folder on his phone labeled “lab data” to avoid suspicion. choso maintained a color-coded spreadsheet titled “behavioral analysis.”
neither of them had spoken the words out loud yet, but the shared obsession had been growing for weeks, and it only grew when they confided in each other. about their concerns. duh.
they weren’t creepy about it—not in the way outsiders might assume.
it was clinical. protective, even. you attend early lectures against your will, came home drained, and still find the time to fuss over them instead of worrying about yourself. noticing the little things was the least they could do for you.
you remembered choso’s younger brother’s birthday and baked him cookies.
you let gojo rant about new updates on his favorite video game for forty-five minutes without interrupting.
you were good, and you deserved someone who was good to you too.
STEP 2 ❤︎ RESEARCH EXISTING SOLUTIONS !
the apartment stayed dim, only the soft blue light from choso’s laptop and satoru’s phone screen cutting through the late-night quiet. you’d gone to bed hours ago after another disappointing date three weeks after they decided to start this project, leaving the two of them alone on the couch with the shared google sheet they created pulled up like it was classified research. choso sat with perfect posture, glasses low on his, while satoru slouched against him, leg thrown casually over choso’s thigh as they scrolled through reddit megathreads and raw x clips—real bedrooms, shaky cameras, actual moans instead of the overproduced pornhub garbage they’d ditched immediately.
“let’s try to stay focused and objective,” choso murmured, voice low and focused, the same tone he used during late-night study sessions. “no projecting. we observe, we note, we refine.”
satoru smirked, thumb swiping through another x thread titled something like ‘she came so hard her legs gave out’. the clip showed a guy with his face buried between a girl’s thighs, two fingers working steadily while his tongue did slow, deliberate circles. “fuck, look at her hips bucking. that’s exactly the kind of reaction we’re after. the closeup suggests using a flat tongue at first, note that down.”
they kept adding rows, voices hushed but growing thicker with every new technique they discussed. the air between them felt charged, heavy with the weight of what they were planning for you— completely unaware in your room down the hall, probably sleeping in oke of their shirts again.
choso’s fingers moved across the keyboard with clinical precision while satoru read reddit threads or narrated clips aloud, his breath warm against choso’s shoulder. “i’ve got three tabs open in r/howtoeatpussy, two in r/sex, and a private x list i curated last week. we should cross-reference with her observed responses. praise kink confirmed at 87% correlation.”
by 1:30 a.m. the spreadsheet had become a detailed, filthy roadmap.
row #82: slow clit circles with flat tongue
source . r/howtoeatpussy pinned guide
PE . 9
notes . combine with humming for vibration; she always leans into shoulder rubs—same sensitivity expected
verdict . keep
row #17: two fingers hooked + steady curl
source . x clip @/amateurcouplevids (2:45)
PE . 9
notes . focus on the anterior wall, no fast thrusting; her post-date complaints include mindless jackhammering
verdict . keep
row #104: prone bone
source . reddit positions megathread on r/sex
PE . 10
notes . full body weight, hips tilted, free hand working her clit nonstop; she melts when we pin her during hugs
verdict . keep
row #34: position 69
source . r/sex testimonies
PE . 2
notes . distracting; she needs full focus on her pleasure
verdict . delete
row #73: edging + constant praise
source . r/sex “making her beg” megathread
PE . 10
notes . bring her close three times, call her good girl each round; her breath always catches when we say it casually
verdict . keep
row #62: cowgirl
source . reddit “best positions for deep penetration”
PE . 6
notes . she likes feeling in control but gets shy fast; might need us to guide her rhythm without making her self-conscious
verdict . revise
row #215: gentle hair tug + neck sucking
sources . x clip from @/msbhve
PE . 8
notes . light pull at the roots while mouth on the spot under her ear; should be effective considering touching her hair is already a self soothing technique
verdict . keep
row #156: slapping
source . multiple
PE . 3
notes . self explanatory, but important to be gentle at first; no clear signals she wants impact thus far—risk of killing the mood if we guess wrong
verdict . revise
satoru let out a low whistle as choso hit save, the seemingly never ending spreadsheet glowing softly between them. “i think we have enough information to turn this into an actual paper.”
choso didn’t smile, but his cheeks were flushed behind the glasses, pupils dark. he closed the laptop slowly but didn’t move it from his lap, voice dropping even quieter. “i’d say to keep the research to ourselves for now, at least until after we reset it.”
satoru’s grin turned sharper, but his eyes stayed soft, hungry in that protective way only they seemed to share when it came to you. he leaned back, stretching his arms overhead so his shirt rode up, exposing the cut of his hips. “step three is hypothesis testing, right? controlled environment. our place. her moaning our names instead of faking it for some loser.”
choso glanced down the dark hallway toward your closed door, imagining you curled up in your bed, surrounded by the plushies you kept out of nostalgia or just because you liked them, thighs pressed together in your sleep from another night of frustration. you had no idea your two genius roommates had just spent hours completely devoted to making sure you never settled for half-assed sex again.
“yeah,” choso finally whispered, fingers twitching like he was already imagining the feel of your skin under them. “we just have to wait for the right moment.”
STEP 3 ❤︎ DATA COLLECTION !
a couple of weeks slip by in that same comfortable rhythm as if there was nothing going on, the apartment humming with the usual late-spring warmth and the faint smell of takeout containers you keep forgetting to toss. you still have no idea about the spreadsheet glowing quietly in choso’s phone or the way both of them have been watching you like researchers who finally got approval for the real experiment.
movie night feels normal enough when satoru suggests it—some new sci-fi thriller he’s been hyping, the kind with jump scares and long stretches of tension that always end with you tucked between them on the couch, laughing and hiding your face in whoever’s shoulder is closest.
the three of you are crammed on the big sectional again, the one that’s seen too many marvel reruns and spilled popcorn. you’re in the middle, as always, wearing one of satoru’s old shirts that still smells faintly like his detergent and the faint trace of his skin. nothing underneath but a pair of soft cotton panties because it’s warm and it’s just them and you’ve clearly stopped pretending to be modest months ago. your bare thighs press against the fabric of their sweatpants on either side without care, and the opening credits flicker across the television, casting shifting blue shadows over all three of you.
satoru keeps one arm slung lazily behind your shoulders, fingers tracing idle circles on the nape of your neck. and choso sits closer than usual on your other side, knee brushing yours, his hand resting on your thigh like it’s the most natural place in the world. the movie starts slow, all tension and quiet dread, and you sink deeper into the cushions, letting their warmth bleed into you.
“you cold?” satoru murmurs right against your ear, breath ghosting over the shell and you shiver even though the room is anything but.
“a little,” you lie, because admitting you just like the way his fingers feel would be embarrassing.
his hand slides under the hem of the tee without needing to ask, palm flat against your stomach and sliding further to hug the length of your waist, warm and broad. “better?” he asks, and you nod, eyes still glued to the screen even as your pulse kicks up.
choso doesn’t say anything at first. he just watches the way your body relaxes under satoru’s touch, making a mental notes of it. then his hand moves too— higher up your thigh, thumb stroking the soft inner skin in slow, deliberate passes. you shift a little, thighs pressing together, but neither of them stops. the movie’s tension builds on screen, a jump scare makes you jolt, and suddenly satoru’s mouth is on your neck, open and hot, teeth grazing the spot right under your ear like he’s been waiting for an excuse to do that.
you freeze for half a second. “what—”
“you’ll let us help you relax, won’t you?” he whispers, lips brushing your skin with every word. “you’ve just been so tense lately, baby.”
the pet name lands like a spark and you can’t help but tilt your head to offer him more space. your breath hitches exactly the way it always does when they say things like that, and choso’s fingers tighten on your thigh, inching higher under the hem until they brush the edge of your panties. you should probably say something, should probably laugh it off and shove them away like it’s still just friendly roughhousing. but the way choso’s fingertips trace the cotton makes your stomach tighten, a low heat blooming low in your belly that you haven’t felt in months.
satoru is the first to kiss you.
it’s soft at the start, almost careful, his hand cupping your jaw to tilt your face toward him, glasses crooked on his nose. his tongue slips past your lips when you kiss back, like he’s testing the waters, and when you make a small surprised sound he deepens it, hungry now, licking into your mouth until you’re melting against him.
shortly after, you feel choso crowding you from the other side, pressing his mouth to your jaw, waiting for you to turn just enough that he can have a turn. when you pull back to look at him, his brows pinched together and mouth parted with soft breaths, you can’t help but practically take a bite of his lips.
it’s freakishly good, you realize, even if more saliva coats your lips and drips down your chin each time you switch between kissing them. you don’t care about the mess though, and neither do they as they swallow up all your sounds. you’re panting into their mouths, hands fisting in their shirts, and the movie is completely forgotten.
“fuck, you taste good,” choso groans against your lips when you switch to him again. his hand slides higher under the shirt until he’s cupping your bare breast, thumb circling your nipple until it pebbles tight. satoru mirrors him on the other side, pinching gently, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers until your back arches off the couch.
you whimper, the sound small and needy, and that’s when they really set their plan in motion. choso’s hand dips between your thighs, pushing your panties aside with two fingers. you’re already wet, embarrassingly so, and he lets out a quiet, satisfied hum as he spreads the slickness up to your clit. satoru keeps kissing you, swallowing every little gasp while your other roommate starts those slow, flat circles exactly like the pinned guide on reddit described. the pressure is perfect, steady, never too fast or too slow, and your hips twitch involuntarily toward his hand.
“that’s it,” choso murmurs, voice low and clinical even as his pupils are blown wide. “just feel it.”
satoru’s fingers join choso’s, two of them pressing at your entrance while choso keeps working your clit. they slide in together—slow, thick, stretching you open in a way that makes your toes curl.
pushed right up against your anterior wall, choso’s fingers prod around to find the right spot until your head falls back against the couch, mouth open on a silent moan as they finger you in perfect sync.
“oh g-god,” you breathe, thighs shaking. the stretch is so full, the pressure building fast and heavy. it’s almost too much all at once, and your grateful when satoru’s slender fingers slip out to focus on your clit.
you can hear how wet you are, the obscene little sounds of their fingers moving in your soaked cunt sounding under the movie’s forgotten soundtrack. one of them leans down and latches his mouth onto your nipple through the shirt, sucking hard, and that’s what tips you over.
the orgasm crashes through you without warning— deep, pulsing waves that start in your core and ripple outward until your whole body locks up. your walls clamp down around choso’s fingers, fluttering and squeezing, and you gush around them, slick dripping down his knuckles onto the couch. it feels like liquid heat pouring through your veins, every nerve lighting up at once, your clit throbbing under the steady circles until you’re whimpering and trying to close your legs from the intensity.
they don’t stop right away. they keep stroking you through it, drawing it out until you’re trembling and oversensitive, little aftershocks making your hips jerk.
“so good,” satoru praises right against your ear, and the words send another helpless spasm through you. “look at you, taking us so well already. just like we knew you would.”
choso pulls his fingers away first, shiny and glistening. he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean without breaking hazy eye contact with you, and the sight makes your pussy clench around nothing. satoru follows, sucking his own fingers with a filthy little moan.
you’re still catching your breath when they move you, gentle but firm, until you’re straddling satoru’s lap facing away from him, shirt rucked up around your waist, panties discarded somewhere near the coffee table. choso kneels beside you on the couch, one hand on your hip, the other rubbing soothing lines along your thigh.
satoru’s cock is out by this point, hard and flushed and leaking at the tip, and he guides you down so the thick length slides right between your soaked folds without pushing inside, slow and deliberate. he rocks his hips up, letting the length of him glide against your clit with every pass, the head bumping your entrance on every forward stroke but never slipping in. the friction is maddening, hot velvet dragging over your most sensitive spots.
you moan loud, head tipping back against satoru’s shoulder. “please—fuck, it feels—”
“we know,” choso says quietly, voice rough. he leans in and kisses you deep, tongue fucking into your mouth while his fingers pinch and roll your puffy nipples. satoru’s hands grip your hips hard, guiding you to grind down harder on his cock, the slick sounds loud and wet between your bodies. every slide makes your pussy lips part around him, coating his entire length in your arousal until he’s glistening.
the pleasure builds again, faster this time, coiling tight and hot each time your peaks are pinched in the exact rhythm that makes your breath catch. you’re helping drag yourself along satoru’s length, hips rolling desperately, chasing that perfect drag against your clit. your walls flutter around nothing, thighs shaking violently as you soak satoru’s cock and cry out into choso’s mouth, body jerking, slick dripping down satoru’s shaft in messy streaks even more the closer you get.
his breathing is ragged against your neck too, but he doesn’t push inside yet. instead he keeps grinding up, but stops abruptly when he feels you tensing again.
“think she’s ready for more?” satoru asks, voice husky and directed at his research partner despite your disappointed whines. his fingertips dig into your hips too, keeping you from chasing your own pleasure.
“just wait a moment, wanna try something quickly.”
he shifts lower, sliding off the couch to kneel between your spread thighs. satoru holds you open for him, hands hooked under your knees and holding them up to prevent you from hiding, and choso leans in and drags his tongue flat up the entire length of your heat in one long, slow lick. the sensation is overwhelming now that your so close to the edge—wet heat, the soft pressure of his tongue, the way he moans against you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks gently, exactly like the reddit guide said, then flicks his tongue in quick little strokes while two fingers slide back inside you and curl.
you sob, hands flying to his hair, hips bucking against his face. satoru keeps you pinned, muttering against your ear, “so fucking pretty like this, letting us play with you. we love seen a lot of pussies, you know, just so we could do this, but your’s is the prettiest one by far.”
choso eats you out like he’s been studying for this exact moment, several saved clips and instructions replaying in his head to guide his movements. the suction on your clit combined with the steady curling inside makes your vision spark white, just as expected. but once again, the finish is denied as he pulls away and leaves you trembling, a broken moan tearing from your throat as you beg incoherently.
with a final kiss to your clit, he pulls back entirely, lips shiny, glasses fogged. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks up at you with something almost reverent.
“‘kay,” he says. “go ahead.”
satoru doesn’t wait. he lifts you just enough to line himself up and sinks you down onto his cock in one smooth, deep thrust. the stretch is perfect; thick and hot and filling you so full you forget how to breathe for a moment. reverse cowgirl seems to be the best option, since it means the downward curve of his dick can punch that spot inside you instantly, and you cry out, nails digging into his forearms around your waist.
choso stays right there between your legs, one hand on your clit, the other reaching up to play with your breasts while satoru starts fucking up into you in slow, controlled rolls of his hips.
you’re lost in it now, completely needy, rocking back to meet every thrust, moaning their names like a prayer. “satoru—choso—fuck, pleasepleaseplease—w-wanna cum!”
satoru’s grip tightens, pace picking up. choso leans in and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth again, deciding it’s his new favorite treat as his tongue flicks in time with satoru’s thrusts. the stimulation is everywhere—deep inside, on your clit, on your tits, their hands and mouths claiming every inch of you. and they finally let you cum again on satoru’s cock, walls clamping down so hard he groans loud, hips stuttering.
but he doesn’t finish inside you. right as his rhythm starts to falter he lifts you off, cock slipping free with a wet sound. “not yet,” he pants in response to your protests. “turn around for choso.”
once again they manage to position you however they want.
choso sits back on the couch now, pants shoved down just enough, his cock flushed dark and leaking. you’re on all fours in front of him in seconds, ass up, face resting on satoru’s lap. he slides into you in slowly, pausing every few inches because he knows he’s a bit thicker than the other one that was in you, the new angle making your eyes roll back.
but that carefulness melts away as soon as you get used to the first few thrusts, so he fucks you hard and steady, one hand fisted in the short at the small of your back, the other reaching around to rub your clit exactly the way you need.
wordlessly, satoru slides his hand under your chin to lift your fucked out face, using his other hand to tap the tip of his glistening dick against your swollen lips with a mocking pout. you suck him messily, drooling around his length, tongue swirling the head clumsily while you’re being pounded into from behind.
choso’s cock dragging against your g-spot with every thrust, satoru’s length heavy on your tongue, the wet sounds of skin slapping and your own muffled moans filling the room—
it all feels like a blessing after all those disappointing men, to say the least.
shaking between them, you gush around choso’s cock, your subsequent scream muffled by your full mouth as you arch deep and try to pull more of him in.
you sob around satoru, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity of your orgasm, every muscle in your body seizing and releasing in white-hot waves. the pleasure is so deep it borders on painful, your pussy gushing around choso’s thrusts until the couch is soaked beneath you. but keeps fucking you through it, pace faltering just a little as he fights his own release.
satoru pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, stroking himself fast. “gonna cum on you,” he pants. “p-please, baby, wanna see it on your tongue.”
you stick your tongue out obediently, eyes glassy as you peer up at him through damp lashes, and satoru groans at the sight. thick ropes of cum paint your tongue and lips, some spilling down your chin and dripping onto your shirt and his sweats.
the sight pushes choso over the edge. he pulls out at the last second, jerking himself furiously until he spills across your ass and lower back in hot, heavy pulses, the mess sliding down your skin and mixing with your own slick, whimpered curses slipping from his mouth.
you collapse forward to bury your face in satoru’s lap again, trembling, covered in their release, pussy still fluttering from the aftershocks. you feel the mess dripping down your thighs, smeared across your chest, fabric ruined. they’re both breathing hard, eyes dark and satisfied as they take in the sight of you wrecked between them.
satoru leans down and kisses your forehead, gentle now. “you did so good, baby.”
choso strokes your hair, pulling you up to get a look at your face. he tucks you against the curve of his neck with a hum? thumb brushing your cum-slick cheek. “perfect data,” he murmurs, so quiet you almost miss it.
you’re too blissed out to ask what he means. you just curl into them, needy and sated and already wondering when they’ll do it again. the movie is still playing in the background, completely ignored, while the three of you stay tangled on the couch in the afterglow—sticky, breathless, and closer than you’ve ever been.
the spreadsheet will get several new rows tomorrow. but tonight, step three is complete.
STEP 4 ❤︎ FORMULATE A CONCLUSION !
the morning light filters through the half-broken blinds, painting lazy stripes across the tangled mess of limbs and stained fabric on the couch. choso wakes first, glasses askew on his face, one arm still draped possessively over your waist like he never let go even in sleep.
satoru stirs seconds later, white hair a disaster, blinking at the ceiling with the slow realization that his heart is doing something stupid and loud in his chest. his own glasses fell off the couch somewhere in the night.
they glance at each other over your sleeping form, blinking. then finally they glance down at you—your cheek smushed against choso’s chest, dried cum flaking on your chin and thighs, having fallen asleep despite them insisting to get you cleaned up—and the spreadsheet suddenly feels ridiculous.
“shit,” satoru whispers, voice cracking with something that isn’t just post-nut clarity. “how fucked are we?”
“very.”
STEP 5 ❤︎ SHARE FINDINGS !
art used in the header by @/rooster.jpg and @/ggyoyowza
sharing something silly but i used to think “gn!reader” meant “good night reader.” i was very confused when i came across it in fics trying to figure out what “gn” meant. i knew goodnight!reader didn’t make any sense but i didn’t have any other explanation within me… it wasn’t after a few weeks i came across a story and someone mentioned it being gender neutral and it finally clicked 😭
the last position you’d expect a marriage proposal in was a mating press. gojo was balls deep inside, bullying your velvet walls with each stroke, but still somehow absolutely wrecked as he moved his hips.
“jesus christ, so tight, fuck,” he panted. his pupils were blown and his hair was mused. he twitched inside of you again at the sight of you underneath him. he thought you looked beautiful all fucked out all for him. he was giving all of himself to you, that was obvious enough. aside from the fact he was splitting you open with his cock, and his tip was kissing your cervix each time he bottomed out, he also kissed you like you were his last breath. he still whispered to you in a soft voice about how you beautiful you looked underneath him. how you were his everything. those should have been signs, yes, but he has always been smitten with you… so smitten that the idiot couldn’t wait to get down on one knee.
“i think about it—shit—every day,” he murmured. your walls hugged him tightly and he let out a low groan. the pleasure building in your stomach made you squirm. you arched your back every time your bodies became one again, saying his name like a prayer. his comment almost flew over your head. he was fucking you so good you almost forgot to ask him what he was droning on about.
“huh..? think about what?”
satoru cursed under his breath as your fluttered around him once more. “about being with you... forever and ever,” he exhaled, somehow reaching even deeper than before. you gasped, the feeling of him nested so deeply inside your cunt throwing you off guard. the drag of his cock against your walls caused you to whimper his name. the broken cries spilling from your lips was enough for satoru to come right there and then. already burying you to the hilt, satoru let go: shooting thick ropes of come deep inside your cunt, his chest heaved as he caught his breath. you followed soon after, orgasm crashing over you. you whispered satoru’s name as you came down from your high. you closed your eyes and relaxed. satoru rolled over beside you and did the same.
after a beat, he finally dropped the bomb: “i just wanna marry you,” he said quietly. you froze, now very much alert.
“i was supposed to wait until i set up a dinner and did it properly, but i was just so dee—”
“satoru!”
“er…i just got lost in the moment… either way, that’s how i feel.” he turned his head to face you, cerulean eyes now glossy. was he tearing up? you reached over and cupped his face gently, face breaking into a grin.
“of course i’ll marry you, don’t cry.”
his jaw dropped at that. “i am not crying.”
“you were totally going to,” you teased, “what? did you think i’d say no?”
satoru went quiet. his eyes darted away from yours, causing your heart to sink. the silence was deafening. never in a million years would you ever say no to him. he was your world.
“hey,” you whispered. “look at me.”
he slowly lifted his eyes to meet your own and your heart shattered once more. under the pale moonlight, his sad eyes looked even more dull. his uncertainty was a heavy weight that you wanted to relieve him of. he was his most vulnerable right now. he trusted you, and only you to see like this. to have him like this.
you pressed your lips in a firm line. “satoru, it’s a yes. a yes every time, in every universe, in every lifetime. i’m yours forever.” and with that, satoru's eyes shone again like they always have. well, at least they did when he was looking at you.
✮⋆˙ satoru cums in you for the first time in front of the city view MDNI
On Friday nights, people either go out partying or stay home and chill, doing what they enjoy. That’s something you liked to do, but that all changed when you ended up in a relationship.
You and Gojo have been on a movie marathon since 5PM, and it’s well past midnight now. Let’s just say the Netflix ‘Are you still watching?’ question has been on your TV screen for the past three hours.
Currently, you were getting fucked so hard, bent before the vast glass window overlooking a city alive with lights. Although your attention wasn’t on anything outside, it was on your boyfriend's girthy dick plunging in and out of your gummy walls.
It was Gojo’s idea to fuck you in front of the window. His words were: “I want everyone to see my pretty girl and how she takes this dick.”, and without a second thought, you agreed.
Your back was against his chest, both hands on the now foggy window. Meanwhile, Gojo couldn’t get enough of you—his hands roaming all over your body. Gripping your waist, while the other moved up toward your tits, giving them a harsh squeeze, which had you whimpering in return.
“Taking this dick so well, you’re so fucking perfect. God, I love you.” He rambled on completely out of his mind. His praises made you look up at him, your head resting on his shoulder.
His eyes were half-lidded, staring directly into your soul. The kind of look that always had your stomach tingling and the wetness between your thighs growing more.
“Please, please. Don’t stop,” you whined, pushing your hips back into him. The tip of his dick kissing your cervix.
Gojo’s eyes rolled back into his skull, his plump lips parted—panting so hard, it sounded as if he just ran a 20-mile marathon. “Ngh- baby, if you do that, I might actually cum inside you.”
You turn your attention back to the city, and then an idea of something completely new to you pops inside your fucked out brain. “Cum inside me, in front of the—Fuck just like that—city.”
After being together for nearly a year, he still hasn’t been able to cum inside you. You both just didn’t want to risk having a kid, but how hot he was looking and the feeling of his thrusts against you had you not caring about anything.
He quickly snapped his eyes open; his hips fluttered for half a second as an eyebrow raised. “You… are you sure?”
“Please.” You nodded immediately, licking your lips. “I need it.”
With that, his dick twitched inside you. One of his hands moved to the back of your spine, bending you down into a biggg arch. Your legs wobbled beneath your weight; the left side of your face squished against the cold windowpane.
He bit his lip at the sight of you, both hands now gripping your waist as his pace began to fuck you harder and faster. You cried out, nails digging into the window. Probably leaving scratches- not like you both cared anyway.
“Yeah? You want my cum inside you?” His gaze dropped down, watching his cock slide in and out of you, then glancing back up. “My needy girl wants my cum dripping from her pussy, huh?”
“Mhm!” You couldn’t mutter a single word. You were starting to feel so overstimulated with how full you felt, plus you both have been fucking like rabbits—without taking a single break.
He leaned over, his chest against your back. He sank his teeth into your neck, leaving yet another mark on your delicate skin. His eyes didn't look away from your face.
You turned your head as far as you could, your lips puckering in a silent invitation for him to kiss you. He met your lips right away; it was a sweet kiss you both shared over the years.
He bit your lip hard enough to draw the slightest amount of blood. You moaned against his lip, your lips parting. He slid his tongue inside your mouth instantly; the feeling made your head dizzy.
It’s surprising to this day how good he can kiss. Even though you were his first girlfriend, his first kiss. First everything in general, but honestly you loved every bit of it.
And as time went on, the kiss became deeper. Tongues fighting for dominance, with each of you refusing to give in. Gojo’s hand traveled up to your neck, his large palm settling against your skin before his fingers squeezed firmly.
He pulled away from the kiss, just enough to speak. Both of your breaths were mixing together as you looked into each other’s eyes.
His eyebrows furrowed up, and you could tell he was trying his hardest not to roll his eyes back into his skull again. You also know he was so close to cumming.
“You gonna cum, baby?” Your voice was in that sweet tone that had him whimpering in response. You lifted your hand from the cool window, moving your arm behind you until your fingers disappeared into his messy white hair.
His thrust grew sloppier with each move, his thighs hitting the back of your ass. Gojo moved his hand down your body, feeling you up before landing between your thighs. His middle finger rubbed against your clit, fast.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes I’m gonna cum.” He grunted, throwing his head back, eyes closing tightly, mouth gapped open. The grip on your waist tightened enough for his knuckles to turn white.
His throat bobbing, hips meeting your ass as his cum spilled all over your walls. Painting your insides white. The new sensation of being filled to the brim made your own release wash over you. Your legs became weak as tears began to form in the corner of your eyes.
“Fuck!” You cried out, slamming your hand back onto the window. The contact made a big bang, which, surprisingly, none of you noticed.
Your mind was absolutely scrambled, lost in the orgasm he just gave you. Probably the best one you've experienced together, and if it wasn’t for his arms holding you up, you would’ve fallen to the ground.
He held you close to his chest, panting into your ear. Overcoming his own release. Then he slowly pulled out of your pussy, watching as his dick fell out. “holy shit.”
You turned your head to face him. “Hm?”
He leaned down, cracking a hand over your plush cheek. You whine out at the contact, but he doesn’t take any of notice of it, his attention stuck on him spreading your ass cheeks apart and watching as his cum drip out of you, “This is the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.”
“Stop! You’re gonna get it on the carpet.” You complained, slapping his shoulder. He shook his head, chuckling—not long before running his finger between your slit, gathering up every drop of the white liquid that slipped out of you.
He stood up to his full height, moving his finger to your lips. “Open.”
You locked eyes with him, slowly opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. With that, he stuck his finger into your mouth. Immediately, you sucked on it, whining at the taste.
His dick got hard right away. He pulled his fingers out, leaning down, meeting your lips in another harsh kiss. The taste of both of you lingering on his tongue drew a low groan from him against your lips before he slowly pulled away.
”Just letting y'know, i'm cumming inside you all the time now.”
sorry if this is ass, i have no clue what i’m doing 😣.
♯ ⋮ 𝄞 your pussy isn’t made for him? satoru will make it ༉ .ᐟ ★
⋮ ⌗ ┆mdni. p in v, size kink, r sex !
You weren’t made for Satoru Gojo’s cock. Not even close.
He was too big—stupidly, obscenely big. Too long. The kind of thick, veined monstrosity that belonged in filthy fantasies, not inside a girl like you. You’d barely taken half of him before your body started screaming in protest, walls fluttering and clenching too tight around the fat head of his dick like your pussy was trying to push him out. But Satoru only grinned down at you with that wicked, knowing smirk, blindfold long discarded so those piercing blue eyes could drink in every desperate twitch of your face.
“Shh, princess,” he murmured, voice low and rough like gravel wrapped in silk. His large hands pinned your hips to the bed, thumbs pressing bruises into your skin as he held you open for him. “I know it’s a lot. Fuck, you’re so tiny down here… but don’t worry. I’ll make it fit. I’ll make this pretty little cunt remember me—reshape it just for my cock.”
You whimpered, thighs trembling around his waist as he rocked forward another inch. The stretch burned, a sharp, overwhelming pressure that made your back arch off the mattress. He was barely halfway in and already you felt so full, like he was rearranging your insides, bullying your walls apart with that relentless girth. Your fingers scrabbled at his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into his pale skin.
“S-Satoru—it’s too much,” you gasped, voice cracking. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but your body betrayed you, slick dripping down his shaft and soaking the sheets beneath you. Your pussy fluttered wildly around him, trying to adjust, trying to take.
He chuckled darkly, leaning down to drag his tongue along the shell of your ear. “Too much? Baby, we’ve only just started. Look at you—already creaming all over me and I’m not even balls-deep yet.” One of his hands slid between your bodies, thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing slow, maddening circles that sent sparks shooting up your spine. The pleasure mixed with the ache, turning it into something molten and addictive. “Breathe for me. Relax that tight little hole. Let me in.”
He pushed again—slow, deliberate, inexorable. Another thick inch sank into your heat, forcing your walls to stretch obscenely around him. You cried out, the sound raw and broken, but Satoru swallowed it with a deep, filthy kiss. His tongue fucked into your mouth in time with the shallow thrusts of his hips, coaxing you open everywhere at once. When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected your lips, and his eyes were glowing with dark hunger.
“Fuck, feel that?” he groaned, rolling his hips in a small circle that made the head of his cock grind against a spot so deep inside you it stole your breath. “Your pussy’s fighting me… but she’s sucking me in too. Greedy girl. This cunt was made to be trained by me.”
You shook your head weakly, but your legs wrapped tighter around him anyway, heels digging into the small of his back like your body had already decided it belonged to him. Satoru noticed—of course he did. He laughed softly against your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point as he finally, finally bottomed out.
The fullness was devastating. You swore you could feel him in your throat, the thick length of him pulsing hot and heavy against your cervix, stretching you so wide you could barely think. Your belly bulged slightly where his cock sat inside you, and Satoru pressed a hand over the bump with a possessive growl.
“Look at that… all the way in. Good fucking girl. I knew you’d take me. Had to work for it, but now this pussy’s molded to my shape.” He stayed buried deep for a long moment, letting you adjust, letting your walls spasm and flutter around every ridge and vein. His cock twitched inside you, leaking precum that only made you wetter.
Then he started moving.
Slow at first—long, dragging strokes that pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, forcing your body to accept him over and over. Each thrust punched the air from your lungs. The wet, obscene sound of your pussy taking his cock filled the room, slick squelching loudly with every plunge. Your tits bounced with the force of it, nipples hard and aching.
“Satoru—ahh—fuck, you’re so deep,” you moaned, head tossing against the pillow. The burn had melted into white-hot pleasure, every drag of his massive cock lighting up nerves you didn’t even know existed. He was hitting spots so far inside you that your vision blurred, toes curling as he ground against your cervix on every thrust.
“Yeah? Too big for you, princess?” He smirked, grabbing your thighs and folding you nearly in half, pressing your knees to your chest so he could watch his cock disappear inside your stretched hole. “Too long? Too thick? Too much for this tight little cunt?” His pace picked up, hips snapping harder, the slap of skin on skin growing louder. “Don’t lie—I can feel how you’re creaming all over me. You’re gonna cum just from being split open on my dick.”
He was relentless. One hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks as he pounded into you. Deep, brutal strokes that made your whole body jolt. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice, trying to milk him, trying to adjust to the impossible stretch, but he only fucked you harder for it.
“Atta girl… squeezing me so fucking good. This pussy’s learning, isn’t it? Learning to take every inch like it was made for me.” He leaned down, biting at your collarbone as he changed the angle and drove even deeper. Stars burst behind your eyes. You screamed his name, back bowing off the bed as the orgasm crashed over you without warning—hard and shattering, walls convulsing wildly around his pistoning cock.
Satoru groaned, hips stuttering for a moment as your pussy fluttered and gushed around him. “Fuck yes—cum on it. Soak my cock, baby. That’s it… good girl.” But he didn’t stop. If anything, he fucked you through it even harder, chasing his own pleasure now, using your spasming heat like it was his personal toy.
He pulled out suddenly, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. You whined at the loss, but before you could protest he flipped you over onto your stomach, yanking your hips up so your ass was high in the air and your face pressed into the sheets. The new position let him sink even deeper, and you sobbed into the mattress as he slammed back in to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
“Perfect,” he growled, one hand fisting in your hair to arch your back while the other smacked your ass hard enough to sting. “Now I can really fuck you like you deserve.”
He set a punishing rhythm—long, powerful strokes that had his heavy balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. The head of his cock kissed your cervix over and over, bullying that sensitive spot until you were a drooling, moaning mess. Your pussy was so wet it dripped down your thighs, coating his shaft and making the slide even filthier.
“You’re taking me so well now,” Satoru praised, voice ragged with lust. He reached around to rub your clit again, fast and firm. “See? I told you I’d make it fit. This cunt’s mine now—stretched out and shaped just for my big cock. No one else is ever gonna fill you like this.”
You could only moan helplessly, pushing back against him as another orgasm built fast and vicious. He felt it, felt your walls start to tighten again, and doubled down—fucking you harder, faster, the wet slap of his hips against your ass echoing obscenely.
“Cum for me again, princess. Let me feel this pussy milk my dick while I ruin you.” His voice dropped to a dark whisper right against your ear. “Gonna fill you up so deep you’ll feel me for days.”
The second climax ripped through you even harder than the first, vision whiting out as you screamed into the sheets. Your pussy clamped down on him like a vice, fluttering and gushing, and Satoru cursed loudly, hips snapping erratically as he chased his own release.
“Fuck—take it all—” He buried himself to the hilt one last time, cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum flooded your overstuffed cunt. He kept grinding deep, forcing every drop into you, marking you from the inside out.
You collapsed boneless beneath him, trembling and utterly spent, pussy still weakly clenching around his softening length. Satoru stayed buried inside you for a long moment, pressing lazy kisses along your spine as he caught his breath.
“Such a good girl,” he murmured, voice warm with satisfaction. “Told you I’d make it fit… and look at you now. Perfectly made for me.”
He finally pulled out slowly, watching with dark fascination as his cum leaked from your ruined, gaping hole—proof that he’d claimed and reshaped what wasn’t meant for him.
And you knew, even as you drifted in exhausted bliss, that he’d do it again. And again. Until your body knew no other shape but his.
satoru loved teasing you. it was something he enjoyed doing the most. whether it was stealing food from your plate, poking your cheek nonstop, when you tried to focus, or saying the most ridiculous things in public just to watch you get red from embarrassment.
he lived for your reactions. and tonight was no different.
"you know," satoru started, resting his chin in his hand, "i think the waitress likes me."
you didn't even look up from the menu.
"mhm."
"i'm serious." he pouts childishly.
"of course you are."
"she smiled at me." he says, grinning.
"she's a waitress, satoru. that's her job." you say, getting kind of irritated at his words.
he clicked his tongue. "wow. someone's jealous."
finally, you looked up. "satoru."
his grin widened. there it is. the reaction he wanted. a few minutes later, the waitress approached your table.
"are you ready to order?" she asks and smiles at you, then satoru.
you nodded and told her your order. then the waitress turned to satoru. before he could say anything, you casually looked over and said-
"my husband will have the same."
satoru choked on the water he was drinking. the waitress nodded and walked away.
silence.
satoru didn't move. he simply stared at you. his ears turning red, and his cheeks even redder. his smile, usually so effortless, twitched into something much softer.
you tried to hide your own smile. "you okay, toru?"
"you-..," the words died in his throat but he spoke anyway, "you can't just call me that and expect me to be okay."
you grin at that. "thought you liked getting reactions out of me."
he lets out a quiet groan, dropping his head back. "i deserved that..."
you hum. "you've been teasing me and whatnot nonstop lately." you say, defending yourself.
he looks away. "i know.." he says, ashamed.
"telling me the waitress likes you?"
he winced.
"calling me jealous?"
he looks guilty, a frown showing up on his pretty face.
"it's only fair for me to tease you a bit too."
"by calling me your husband?"
"it worked, didn't it?"
"...a little too well." he looks at you. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to keep pushing."
"it's okay, just maybe only focus on teasing, not making me jealous." you say, taking his hand in yours.
"whatever you say, wife."
a/n: sorry this is so bad... i freaking love him tho
you’re well aware that your relationship with satoru isn’t exactly normal. people seem to think you have no clue, but you’ve never been ignorant. for all the casual jokes and whining clinginess, you can tell your boyfriend is deeply, possessively in love with you.
it shows in everything he does. satoru likes to hide it behind a veneer of playfulness. you don’t mind. in all reality, you find it pretty cute—the doting, the teasing, the silly jokes that all veil that intense want that lurks in him. he wants you so bad it’s impossible to ignore. no, more than that: he needs you so much it bleeds into everything he does.
he’s teasing when he winds an arm around your waist, joking when he drops his chin on your head and pulls you away from whoever you were talking to. there’s a casual, unspoken jealousy to the action, but he’s so good at pretending it’s just gojo being clingy. it’s just what everyone expects of him. you’re the only one that knows better. you can see the angry glint in his eye, hear the way satoru’s heart picks up in his chest every time you reciprocate. you’re the only one he lets past infinity, the reason he’s been working to make it cover you as well. he just can’t bear to see other people touching you—you don’t blame him, do you?
best of all, you’re the only one that sees him desperate, that gets to watch him unwind. he worships you. you don’t have sex as much as you make love, his hands roving your body and plucking sweet moans from between your lips. satoru will murmur as he takes you, voice unbearably vulnerable and unspeakably intimate. “no one else can make you feel like this, baby,” he says on a moan. on the next, quiet and sure, “even better, i’m the only one that gets to see you like this. they don’t even know what they’re missing out on. i won’t let them ever find out.” he holds you tightly, kisses you ardently, and if you let him, he’ll fuck you until his legs give out. until he has no more love left to give.
so maybe you’re a little too encouraging. so what? who cares if you let your gaze linger on another man just to watch satoru’s eyes sharpen? what does it matter if you’ll play ignorant to another man’s advances, just to revel in the way satoru steps in and stakes his territory?
sex like that is even better. satoru gets mad, possessive—not at you, never at you. but your entire body becomes a canvas for him to stake his claim on, and it makes him rough. he’ll grip you until you bruise, kiss you until your lip splits, fuck you deep and hard so that you wake up the next morning sore, just so he can dote on you all over again.
“he’s so needy,” utahime complains to you one day, after he’d dragged you home from an event. he’d claimed he just wanted you all to himself for a moment, to get away from such boring company. it’s more honest than everyone suspects. he really does hate to see you talking to other people. “he wants to leave, and you leave. he hates when you talk to other guys. i swear, whenever you’re not paying attention to him, it’s like the sun’s frozen over. and then he has to act up until you’re looking at him again. how can you handle a guy that clingy?”
“i think it’s cute,” you reply. “i like how much he likes me. makes me feel like i’m the only girl in the world, you know?”
utahime snorts. “he sure seems to think so. remember last week? it’s like he didn’t even realise that girl was flirting with him.”
he hadn’t. or maybe he had, and satoru simply revels in your jealousy as much as you do his. you’d attached yourself to him like a limpet, fingers curling around his bicep as your head leant against his shoulder. you were polite to a fault until you chased her off, so clingy that satoru couldn’t tear his eyes away. in the end, he’d barely said three words to the girl before you monopolised all of his attention. he’d grinned wide and proud, and been twice as clingy as you were thereafter.
(when you got home, well. you’d been on top, riding him to a slow climax while he stared up at you worshipfully. his thumbs rub circles into your thighs, and with every rock of your hips, he lets loose an unabashed groan. he’s so free in his pleasure, so open about how good you make him feel. satoru never lets you doubt how perfect you are for him.
he comes first, for once. heaves and whines into your mouth even as he tells you to keep going, tells you that i’m sorry i want you so bad, baby. that doesn’t mean you need to stop—take me for all i’ve got, kay? he whispers those promises until you follow him over the edge, curled on top of him and breathing deep against his collarbone.
“you’ll never leave me, will you?” he asks, except he doesn’t say it like a question. he says it like a vow.
“never,” you promise. “you’d be dead before i let you get rid of me.”)
teasing satoru with cruel jokes gets you nowhere... 𐙚
cw; rough sex, mean satoru, backshots, spanking, established relationship, hair pulling, creampie. mdni .ᐟ
.ೃ࿔* more like this
“Nghh — ah! ‘Toru! S’too much!” you babble incoherently, face pressed firmly against the pillows as Satoru gives you the meanest backshots known to man.
“Shut that pretty mouth and take it,” Satoru rasps, pounding you like never before — his heavy balls slapping harshly against your skin. “You asked for this, and I’m gonna make sure you remember that.”
For once, Satoru wasn’t teasing, no cocky grin on his face, no messing around. You'd never seen him like this, jaw clenched, every thrust into your sopping hole more brutal than the last.
It was just supposed to be a joke — a stupid prank. “Ugh I wish I was single.” Of course, you didn’t mean it, you just wanted to see his reaction, something to cure your boredom...
And now? Now you’re paying the price.
“Think you’re so fucking smart, huh? Saying shit like that,” he grunts, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise.
“N-No it was jus’ a — ngh! — joke!" you whimper helplessly, feeling your legs begin to give out, unable to keep your body upright any longer.
He delivers a harsh smack! to your ass to jolt your body back to life, leaning over your back until his mouth was hot against your ear, cock shoved even deeper into your poor little cunt.
“Oh yeah? Think I found it funny?” he responds, punctuating his words with a series of particularly cruel thrusts.
He nips at your ear, making you yelp softly before leaning back again, continuing to tug you back against his thick, leaking cock, your whimpers only spurring him on — making him want to ruin you even more.
“Good luck being single when I’m gonna — hah — ruin this pussy for anyone else," he pants, his own release beginning to creep up on him.
You were a complete fucking mess, to put it lightly. Tears streaming down your face, hands gripping the sheets so hard your knuckles had turned white, inner thighs sticky from the countless orgasms he’d ripped from you.
“No one can fuck you like I can,” he hisses, slapping your ass again, harder this time, “say it.”
“N-No one can nghh! — fuck me like y-you.”
That’s all he needed to hear.
You feel his thrusts become short and sharp, filling you to the brim with hot cum, only slowing once he was satisfied your cunt had swallowed every last drop.
Once he pulls out, your body goes limp, collapsing against the mattress. Just when you thought it was over, one large hand grips your hair, yanking it allll the way back until you were upright again.
“Spread ‘em,” he commands, watching you put your ruined pussy on display for him, his thick load trickling out.
You turn your head as much as his strong grip would allow, catching a glimpse of the satisfied grin on his face. “Yeah, that’ll do."
as per usual, you’re laid comfortably on your back, surrounded by plush pillows, your boyfriend looming over you as he snaps his hips against yours.
you rarely did any of the work during intimacy with satoru. in your defence, why would you? he looks like a damn greek god on top of you, biceps flexing either side of your head, abs on full display as he splits you apart with his fat cock.
you couldn’t get enough of the sight, it was perfect — satoru was perfect. not to mention those beautiful blue eyes gleaming down at you, soft white hair messy and falling into that sexy middle part you adored on him.
admittedly, you’re also lazy. your boyfriend has stamina for days, ultimately, you just can’t compete.
"feel good, baby? my lil’ pillow princess enjoying herself?" he teases, hiking one of your legs over his shoulder, driving his cock deeper inside of you.
you gasp sharply, eyes rolling back as he stretches you open, looking down at you with that infuriatingly smug grin. “mnghh — toru’ — you’re so deep," you moan, fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of his biceps.
satoru leans in, leaning his forehead against yours, then pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. “my lazy princess, layin' there looking so pretty for me."
"m’not — ahnn — lazy," you whine, your cunt clenching around him like it never wants him to leave. satoru ruts into you harder, faster, making your mouth gape wide open from sheer pleasure.
"sureeee you’re not, in fact, why don’t you get on top, huh? ride me just how i like it," he teases further, now taking your other leg and draping it over his shoulder.
he has you cumming on his cock before you can even respond, cunt fluttering deliciously around his length as you moan his name like a prayer. "gooodd girl, look so cute cumming on my cock."
you’re utterly fucked out, cheeks flushed, almost limp against the soft sheets. “aw, tired already, princess? suchhh hard work laying there while i fuck this pretty pussy," he says, voice dripping with mock sympathy.
in reality, satoru didn’t mind you rarely doing the work. he enjoyed looking at your pretty face as you unravel, tits bouncing with every deep thrust.
“gonna fill you up now, yeah? taking me soooo well," he coos. you use the last of your energy to nod feverishly and buck your hips against his, suddenly slightly insecure about your lack of effort.
he chuckles lowly, pinning your hips down with two hands. "s’okay, princess. let me do it," he says, thrusts becoming short and sharp, breathing heavier.
then, he fills you to the brim with his hot load, leaning in to bury his face in the crook of your neck — almost folding you in half to ensure his load is buried deep inside your pussy.
"hah — fuckkk,” he groans, kissing your neck, emptying every last drop from his heavy balls.
he wouldn’t change his cute little pillow princess for the world.
i can never get behind naoya. i don’t even like toji and sukuna in the canon jjk universe but i do find fics about them great and entertaining. naoya, however… just an annoying misogynistic disgusting piece of shit. i can’t stomach even just the thought of that man. imagine my surprise when i found out he has fans.
can someone please help me this satoru gojo fic. only thing i remember was the synopsis said something along the lines of reader hating gojo because of an offhand / small comment he did a few years (?) prior when they were still in college, leading to reader hating gojo. satoru doesnt even know why you hate him. not sure if it was nerdjo or something.
please someone help me i’ve been losing sleep over this
✮⋆˙. (▀▀̮▀) The strongest teaches you how to squirt . . .
You wanted to learn how to squirt.
Like, you really wanted to learn.
Being all over Twitter didn't help you either, as there's always somebody asking, oh, “ how do you squirt?” Or, “guys, I just learned how to squirt for the first time and I've never felt so much better.” And you just can't help but get FOMO.
Okay yeah sure, every time Gojo fucks you really good, it feels amazing, but something's missing.
He's already done everything in the book with you, with a few concepts here and there untouched, but you always end up satisfied, so you never dwelled on it.
You just really, really wanted to try feeling something new.
You already tried to do it yourself countless times, but your fingers could never reach the spots that he does, especially since his are significantly longer than yours.
So when he's currently fucking you and training your pussy to be more sensitive, it seems you finally get the hang of it.
“Mngh— fuck toru that…feels s’good..”
Gojo's long fingers curl deep inside your soaked pussy, his thumb pressing and pushing hard against your swollen clit with constant pressure.
He watched your face intently, bright blue eyes focusing on your pretty face as your walls flutter around his digits.
"Thaaat's it, baby," he murmurs, voice low and rough against your ear.
"You said you wanted to learn, yeah?"
His pace kept quickening as both fingers pumped into you steady, scissoring slightly on each thrust to stretch you open while his palm slaps wetly against your mound.
Your hips buck up off the bed, chasing the overwhelming sensation slowly building low in your belly.
Every stroke drags against that sensitive spot inside you, sending heatwaves through your body.
Gojo moves down, sucking one of your nipples right into his mouth. He bites down just hard enough to make you whine out, before soothing the sting with his tongue.
His free hand pins your thigh wider, keeping you spread for him as he works through your pussy harder.
Your breath comes out in short gasps when the pressure inside you grows almost unbearable, feeling like a tight coil getting tighter and tighter before releasing itself.
Your pussy clenches eagerly around his fingers as finally, a sudden rush of clear liquid sprays out all around them, soaking his hand and his wrist, along with the sheets beneath you in a hot, messy gush.
Gojo smiles and groans at the sight, fingering you through it with quick movements, so that the squirt keeps coming in short bursts.
"Fuuck, look at that," he growls, eyes locked on the way your cunt pulses and sprays. "So pretty when you let loose like that."
Your thighs tremble, clit becoming achingly sensitive.
You gripped the sheets and looked down at the mess, “hah…oh my god…what a mess..”
Another wave hits as he keeps rubbing your clit in tight circles, drawing out every last tremor and whine until you're left twitching, the new bedsheets already soiled under you.
He finally slows his hand down, but doesn't pull out, carefully stroking your inner walls as the aftershocks roll through you.
"Atta girl," he praises, voice coated with satisfaction.
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