★ . . situationship!toji making you cūm mid-argument.
the tv flickers with some random action movie neither of you are really paying attention to.
you’re tucked against your eight months situation ship (?) side on the couch, legs spread lazily over his thigh, his big hand shoved down the front of your loose shorts. two thick fingers are lazily circling your clit, slow and almost absent-minded, like he’s just playing with you out of boredom while he watches the screen.
you’re trying to stay focused on the argument you started five minutes ago.
“i’m serious, toji,” you snap, voice a little breathy despite yourself. “you can’t just disappear for days and then show up like nothing happened. i’m not your fucking doormat—”
“mm,” he hums, not even looking at you. his fingers keep rubbing lazy little circles over your swollen clit, slick sounds barely audible under the movie. “you done yelling yet?”
you clench your jaw, heat crawling up your neck. “no, i’m not done. you always do this shit. you think you can just—”
his middle finger presses harder, dragging slow and firm right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. your breath hitches mid-sentence. toji’s lips twitch like he’s fighting a smirk, eyes still glued to the tv like he’s barely invested in what his hand is doing between your legs.
“keep going,” he says calmly. “i’m listening.”
you try. you realllly do. but his touch is getting more deliberate now, fingers sliding down to spread your wetness before coming back up to rub tight, slick circles on your clit. your thighs twitch, one foot pressing into the couch cushion.
“you’re such an asshole,” you hiss, but your voice is losing its edge. “you disappear, you don’t text, you don’t—fuck—”
toji’s finger speeds up just a fraction, still lazy but consistent, perfect pressure that makes your hips start to roll into his hand without your permission. he finally glances over at you, eyes dark and amused.
“what was that?” he asks, voice low and smug. “i didn’t catch the last part, sweetheart.”
you grab his wrist, but you don’t pull him away. your breathing is getting faster, chest rising and falling as the pleasure builds against your will. “i said… you’re a selfish prick, toji—”
he chuckles, low and rough, and suddenly his fingers move faster, rubbing your clit with firm, relentless strokes. your shorts are soaked, the fabric sticking to you as his thick fingers work you open. your argument is crumbling, words turning into soft, broken gasps.
“yeah?” he murmurs, finally turning his full attention to you. “keep telling me how much you hate me while you’re dripping all over my hand.”
your head falls back against the couch, hips grinding desperately into his palm. the tv noise fades into background static. all you can focus on is the tight, aching heat building fast between your legs.
“toji— fuck, i’m— i’m still mad at you—”
“i know,” he says, almost sweetly, but his fingers don’t stop. he rubs your clit faster, harder, using the slick mess you’re making to glide perfectly over that sensitive spot. “cum anyway.”
it hits you mid-breath.
your back arches off the couch as the orgasm crashes through you, sudden and brutal. your thighs clamp around his hand, hips jerking, a broken moan ripping from your throat while he keeps rubbing you through it. toji watches your face the entire time, eyes half-lidded, that lazy smirk finally breaking across his mouth as you shake and whimper.
he doesn’t stop until you’re twitching, oversensitive and gasping, weakly pushing at his wrist. only then does he pull his hand out of your shorts, fingers shiny and dripping with you. he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean, slow and deliberate, while you try to catch your breath.
“you were saying?” he asks, voice thick with amusement.
you glare at him, still panting, thighs trembling.
“i still hate you,” you mutter weakly.
toji chuckles and leans in, pressing a rough kiss to your neck.
It wasn’t just the salt-and-pepper stubble or the slow, practiced way they carried themselves. it was the stillness. the grounded energy. the calm. like nothing could touch them. like they’d been through hell and came back clean, sharper for it.
nanami kento was the embodiment of that.
you weren’t supposed to end up in his bed. it started with drinks after a shared mission, a conversation that lingered longer than expected. you were tipsy. he wasn’t. and yet he watched you like you were a puzzle worth solving. carefully, patiently, without a single wasted glance.
you’d had sex before. enough to know what you liked. enough to know that most guys your age didn’t really care about what that was. they rushed. they fumbled. Some were sweet, but rarely satisfying. even the slightly older ones, 25, 26, still had the attention span of a squirrel and the emotional intelligence of a wet sock.
but nanami?
nanami touched you like he’d studied you. like he had time. like he didn’t need to prove anything because he already knew he could ruin you. and would. he took off your clothes like unwrapping a gift he’d waited patiently to open. every touch was intentional. every kiss a quiet promise.
you thought you were prepared.
you weren’t.
his mouth on your neck, your chest, between your legs. devastating. the kind of slow burn that made you forget your name, arching into him with a gasp so raw you almost felt embarrassed. until you looked up and saw the way he was watching you. focused. like he needed to see what he did to you..
you expected him to be good. he was older, refined, deliberate in everything he did. from the way he sipped his whiskey to the way he looked at you, like he could read every need you hadn’t voiced. But this?
this was beyond anything your imagination had dared to stretch toward.
you're on your back, legs spread and trembling over Nanami’s shoulders, body pinned to the mattress like you were meant to be there. like he built this exact moment out of patience and control and years of knowing exactly what he was doing.
his cock stretches you open with a slow, thick thrust that makes your spine arch off the bed. he’s not fast. not frantic. he moves like a man who knows he doesn’t have to rush, because you’re already falling apart under him.
“good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and steady, as if he’s rewarding you for every helpless sound you make. “you can take it. i’ve got you.”
and you do. you take him. inch by devastating inch. because you can’t not. he fills you in a way no one else ever has. deep. heavy. the kind of depth that forces a raw, gasping whine from your throat with every stroke.
your nails claw weakly at his forearms, the only parts of him you can reach in this position. he’s got you folded open, helpless, a mess of sweat and slick and trembling limbs beneath him. his hips grind slow, controlled, like he’s studying how each angle wrecks you.
“too much?” he asks, and it’s maddening how composed he sounds while you’re unraveling like silk in his hands.
you try to answer, but nothing comes out but a high-pitched, wrecked little moan. your head tilts back. eyes flutter shut. brain static.
he leans in closer, the weight of him pressing into you deliciously, lips grazing your jaw.
“words, sweetheart.”
you manage a shaky, whined: “don’t stop. please. don’t stop.”
his lips curve into the faintest smirk against your cheek, and suddenly his thrusts get deeper. not harder. not faster. just…more intentional. perfectly timed to make you feel every ridge, every drag of him against that sensitive spot inside you that makes your thighs shake.
your vision goes blurry. your mouth drops open in a silent gasp.
And then it happens:
Your brain short-circuits.
everything goes white-hot, your body locking around him with a desperate cry you barely hear. your climax rips through you with a sharp, clenching heat that leaves you breathless and boneless, twitching beneath him as he fucks you through it with devastating care.
“beautiful,” he breathes, watching you crumble.
you’re too far gone to even feel embarrassed at how wrecked you sound. you’re crying a little overstimulated, completely taken, the term “fucked dumb” no longer a meme, but a diagnosis.
he slows down. pulls out just enough to let you breathe, but not leave. his hands slide down your thighs, soothing, grounding.
and then, without warning, he’s back inside you. slower this time. softer. but it still hurts, in the way pleasure hurts when you’ve already come once and your nerves are still singing. you whimper, and he kisses your shoulder.
“i know, i know,” he whispers. “just one more. you can do one more.”
you don't know if you're nodding or crying, but it doesn’t matter. he keeps praising you, guiding you back to that high again with practiced care and relentless control. and when you finally collapse beneath him, thighs shaking, tears wet on your cheeks, he kisses you like you’re something fragile he’s honored to break.
he doesn’t leave right after.
he wraps you in a warm, damp towel and carries you to the bath. cleans you gently. makes you tea. sits beside you as your body catches up with your soul.
and when he says, “you’re safe,” you believe him.
and you realized then: you’d never be able to go back.
how could you? to twenty-something-year-old men who needed validation, who didn’t know what to do with a woman who needed to be held, not just touched? who didn’t understand the ache that came from deeper wounds. wounds that wanted comfort, not conquest?
nanami wasn’t just good in bed.
he understood. he moved with restraint, with precision. the kind of man who didn’t need to be loud to leave a mark.
you looked up at him. his calm, unreadable expression softened only by the way his thumb brushed over your hip. and it hit you:
bully!gojo who takes you out for dinner, but of course there's a catch.
he's looking at you from across the booth, eyes wild with interest and curiosity. the restaurant he's taken you to is quite nice, far too nice for what he's doing.
"how you going over there? your face is a little red." he teases, wearing an innocent smile.
you squirm in your seat, trying to avoid the pleasure of the vibrator he shoved down there. one of his hands remains under the table, playing around with the vibrations on his phone. you can't even respond, eyes closed in both focus and desperation.
when the server comes over, he asks if you're all right.
"she's fine, just a little nervous. two waters please," gojo says with confidence and ease before ordering for the both of you. you look down, trying to hide the needy look on your face.
"y'know, i think we should try this during school."
"p-please, turn it down, satoru-"
"ha, no thanks. i'm loving this." he says. his eyes never leave you, admiring how your body curls in and tries to hide its shakes. he's been at this for an hour already, and you're beginning to feel overwhelmed.
"please, i can't, i don't want to." you say, although not entirely sure of what you do and do not want. gojo sighs dramatically before standing and making his way to your side of the table, sliding into the booth next to you. his arm snakes around your shoulders and holds you close.
he puts his phone on your thigh and points to it.
"go on, you do it." he says, voice softer. you look up at him, wondering if this is just some game, if he will take away the control. but he doesn't laugh or anything, patient.
your finger moves to the screen, small gasp leaving your mouth as you hold on the higher function. gojo chuckles lightly, whispering again.
"there you go. now make yourself cum and stop being such a baby."
"can't we take it out instead?"
"no, i want it in. come on, you're not scared of a little orgasm in public, are you?" he teases, smiling at your defeated face. your finger moves to the screen again and you close your eyes when the pleasure consumes you.
you squirm in the seat, your other hand gripping it's leather. gojo responds by leaning closer, preventing you from moving too much.
"such a wiggler. don't worry baby, i'll help you." he shuffles closer to you, effectively trapping you in the corner. his hand grabs your head and turns it so your hiding in his chest.
as your orgasm builds up, gojo kisses your head gently, whispering perverted things.
"such a whore, huh? you would have never done this before me. i make you that needy that you'll do anything i say. no debating that."
you take in a sharp breath as you feel yourself nearing the edge. finally, you cum. your body shakes and gojo firmly pins you, stopping the vibrations.
suddenly, your server returns with your food. gojo thanks him calmly while you hide your face again, overwhelmed with embarrassment.
when gojo looks at your face again, he leans in to whisper in your ear.
"don't be ashamed beautiful, here, feel how hard you've made me?" he grabs your hand and shoves it over his crotch.
"fuck, those little sounds. makes me wanna fuck you right here. come on, let's go to the bathroom."
what ao3 would look like with ads. no, you do not want this. support ao3 because it’s one of the last few places on the internet that is not tainted by capitalism bullshit. support ao3 because it’s one of the last few places on the internet that is genuinely about the connection between audiences, artists, their works and the love/passion artists have for what they do
husband!gojo edges you with your own rose toy! mdni ⟢
"a one time thing, huh?" satoru quips devilishly, "but baby, don't you happen to own a rose toy?"
your blood runs cold. "how the actual fuck do you—?"
"please," he scoffs, "you think I don't know every inch of this apartment? every little secret?" he sits up slowly, his usual confidence reasserting itself. "I've seen that pretty pink rose tucked away in your nightstand."
"that's different," you protest quickly, but your voice lacks conviction.
"is it?" he tilts his head, white hair falling across his forehead as those brilliant blue eyes study you with predatory interest. "you just edged me mercilessly with my toy. seems only fair I return the favor, don’t ya think?"
you watch, frozen, as he disappears into your bedroom. the sound of a drawer opening makes your stomach flip. when he returns, he holds the rose-shaped toy in all its glory, its silicone petals closed in a deceptively innocent bud. the sight of it in his large hand makes something clench low in your belly.
"this isn't—you can't just—" you stammer, but he’s already climbing back onto the bed.
"can't I?" he settles beside you, one hand coming to rest on your thigh. "you made the rules, baby. toys instead of the real thing deserve punishment, right? and unless I'm mistaken..." his fingers trail up your leg, "you've used this plenty of times when you could have just asked me."
guilt flickers through you because he was right. how many nights had you reached for that toy instead of waking him, telling yourself he was tired, that you didn't want to bother him?
"well, I didn't think you'd mind," you counter weakly.
"oh, I don't mind," gojo assures you with a smile. his hand slides higher, pushing up the hem of your shirt. "but fair is fair. you taught me a lesson. now let me teach you one." his fingers find the waistband of your pants. "off. now."
with trembling hands, you shimmy out of your pants and underwear, all too aware of the hungry look blazing in your lover’s eyes.
"beautiful," he murmurs reverently. "now lie back. you know the drill baby, legs spread."
you obey, your heart hammering against your ribs. the power dynamic has completely flipped, and the vulnerability of it makes your skin flush hot. gojo positions himself between your legs, the toy held loosely in one hand.
he quickly reaches into the nightstand drawer, pulling out two silky blindfolds. you shoot him a look of bewilderment, to which he simply flashes you a grin.
he holds up one of your wrists to the wooden bedpost, using the first blindfold to tie your wrist securely in place.
"this isn’t—" you start, but cut off with a strangled gasp as he presses a kiss to your thigh, teasingly close to where you were already getting wet.
"not what? not fair?" he laughs softly. "you're right. it's not. but you started this game." his free hand strokes up your other thigh, thumbs brushing up so close to your pussy that you can’t help the small whimper that escapes. "now let's see how well you play."
he makes quick work of tying up your other wrist above your head, leaving you completely and utterly accessible to his whims.
he turns on the toy, and the soft whirring sound fills the room. the rose's petals open slightly, revealing the suction mechanism inside. you'd felt it dozens of times before, knew exactly what it could do, but somehow having satoru control it made it ten times different. and made you ten times wetter.
"I've done my research on these," he says conversationally, as if discussing the weather and not your impeding edge torture. "suction and vibration combined. designed specifically for your clit. supposed to be... overwhelming, right?" he brings it closer, so that you can feel the air pulsing from it. "well, I wanna see for myself."
"satoru, wait—" but your words stutter in a sharp cry as he presses the toy against you.
the sensation is immediate and intense. the silicone petals seal around your clit, creating a maddening suction that pulls at the sensitive bundle of nerves. your back arches off the bed, hands fisting in the pillows.
"oh.. oh fuck," you gasp.
"good?" he asks, though he clearly knows the answer. he adjusts the angle slightly, and the sensation intensifies. "you know, when you were using my toy on me, you were so controlled, so methodical." he increases the suction, and your hips buck involuntarily. "but I think I prefer a more... exploratory approach."
he wasn't lying. where you had established a rhythm, gojo seemed content to experiment—changing the intensity, shifting the angle, pulling the toy away only to press it back in a slightly different position. each variation sent new sparks of pleasure through you, never letting you adjust or anticipate.
"look at you," he murmurs, his free hand sliding up your stomach, pushing your shirt higher. "already trembling, how long has it been since you used this, hmm? last night? this morning?"
you couldn't answer, couldn't form any coherent sounds as he increases the vibration. the suction pulses rhythmically, and you could feel your orgasm building embarrassingly fast.
"I bet y’thought about me, right?" gojo continues, his voice dropping lower. "betcha imagined it was my mouth on you instead of this toy." he leans down, his breath hot against your inner thigh. "were you right? does it feel like my tongue?"
"no," you manage to gasp out. "d-different—it's different—"
"better or worse?"
you couldn't answer that, wouldn't give him the satisfaction, but your silence speaks volumes. the toy was intense, overwhelming, but it lacked his tongue’s warmth, his fingers’ skill, the way he’s learned your body's responses over years of making love to you.
gojo seems to understand. "that's what I thought."
he pulls the toy away suddenly, and you nearly sob at the loss of stimulation. your clit throbs, swollen and sensitive, your orgasm retreating just out of reach.
"please," you whimper before you could stop yourself.
"please what?" he traces patterns on your inner thigh with his fingers, deliberately avoiding where you needed him most. "please let you come? but we've barely started, sweetheart. you edged me at least three times. seems only fair I do the same to you."
"satoru—"
"besides," he interrupts, bringing the toy back but not quite touching you with it, letting you feel just the vibrations in the air, "you haven't admitted it yet. haven't told me what I want to hear."
"I don't—" you start, but he presses the toy against you again, harder this time, and your words dissolve into a scream.
this time he was less playful, more focused. he finds the angle that make your legs shake and holds it there, the suction and vibration doubling into something you could only describe as heaven and hell combined. you can feel yourself climbing fast, pleasure coiling tight in your cunt.
"that's it," gojo encourages, his voice rough. "let me see you fall apart. show me what this toy does to you. show me what I do to you."
you’re so close, right on the edge, your whole body tensing as your orgasm approaches. just a few more seconds, just a little more—
he pulls away again.
"fuck!" the word tears from your throat desperately. your hips lift, seeking the stimulation that had vanished, but gojo holds the toy just out of reach.
"aw, were you close?" his tone mockingly sympathetic. "that's too bad. maybe if you asked nicely..."
"fuck you," you seethe, and he laughs.
"there's my girl. still got some fight in you." he trails his fingers through your wetness, and you gasp at the contact. "god, you're soaked. this toy really does work wonders, huh?" he circles your clit with his thumb, feather-light, and you whimper. "but I bet I could make you wetter. make you come harder."
"youre jealous of a fucking toy?" you challenge, voice wobbly “you think you could make me cum harder? fucking prove it then,”
his eyes flash. "careful what you wish for."
the toy returns, but this time he combines it with his fingers, sliding two inside you while the rose works your clit. the dual sensation is devastating. you cry out, your hands struggling against the binds.
"there we go," he murmurs, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "this is what you need, isn't it? not some toy. me. my fingers. my attention."
you couldn't deny it, couldn't think past the overwhelming pleasure. the toy's suction pulses in rhythm with his fingers, and you were climbing again, faster this time, higher.
"say it," gojo demands again, his voice rough with his own renewed arousal. you could see his cock hardening again, responding to your desperation. "tell me you need me."
"I—" you gasp, fighting it even as your body betrays you, clenching around his fingers. "I can't—"
"yes, you can." he increases the toy's intensity, and you nearly scream. "say it, baby. tell me this toy isn't enough. tell me you need me."
you’re right there, balanced on a blade’s edge, your entire body shakes with the need for release. but he holds you there, keeping you suspended in that agonizing space between frustration and satisfaction. but your body could only handle so much for so long..
"please," you sob. "please, satoru, I need—"
"what do you need?"
"you!" the word bursts from you, raw and honest. "I need you, satoru. fuck. please…"
"good girl," he breathes, and finally—finally—he lets you have it.
the orgasm hits you like an earthquake, crashing over you with devastating force. you buck up into him, a scream tearing from your throat as pleasure whites out your vision. satoru doesn’t let up, the toy and his fingers moving in perfect synchronization, drawing out every wave until you were shaking and oversensitive, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.
only then does he remove the toy, turning it off and setting it aside. his fingers gentle inside you, slowly withdrawing as you trembled through the aftershocks.
he brings up his slick fingers and dips them into his mouth, tasting the evidence of your release
"what the fuck," you breathe, throwing an arm over your face.
"mhm" gojo hums, and you could hear the satisfaction in his smut voice. "see what it feels like?" he stretches out beside you, pulling you against his chest. "though, i can’t really tell which position turned me on more"
you can’t help the weak laugh that escapes. "you're such a freak."
"maybe. but you know I’m always available to you." he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’d undergo any freaky kinky position you’d wanna put me in."
"wanna test that thought?" you suggest, reaching down to wrap your hand around him.
gojo groans, his hips pushing into your grip. "fuck yes. but this time—" he rolls, pinning you beneath him, "—no toys. just us. because as fun as that was, I'd much rather make you come with my cock instead of some silicone."
"just us," you agree, and pull him down into another kiss.
a/n: lord have mercy on the poor soul who happens to stumble upon all the rose toy related research in my google history..
Your back's pressed against Nanami's chest, his thighs bracketing yours to keep your legs spread wide. Your panties and your shirt the only thing giving you some dignity, but still leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable .
Somehow your dinner conversation shifted to this after you’d told Nanami that you’d never came before—you weren’t a virgin—but you still had no clue as to how it really was supposed to feel. Even when you tried yourself it just… didn’t make sense?
You’d been dating for a few weeks now, and to be honest, with his work you guys never really had the time to discuss any of this, or even act on it. But when you finally opened up to him about previous disappointing experiences out of the blue he truly took it to heart.
"Comfortable?" His voice was quiet against your ear, one hand resting on your hip while the other traced slow patterns on your inner thigh.
"I'm fine," you breathed, though your pulse hammered in your throat at how lewd this whole situation all seemed.
"Good." His hand continued its path upward. "Now close those pretty eyes and let me do the work."
His fingers dragged up your thigh with feather touches, each movement in means the get your skin to tingle. He brushed your panties further to the side with his thumb one he reached your already dripping core, exposing you completely to the cool air of the ceiling fan, goosebumps raising on your skin before his fingers traced through your folds.
"Were you looking forward to this?" he comments with a faint laugh. He dragged his fingers through your slickness again, you gasped at the sensation, his rough fingers surprisingly soft against your soft flesh, coating them thoroughly. "Should’ve told me about this sooner."
He found your clit, circling it with pressure that made your breath catch, not too hard yet not too soft, just enough to make you your heart flutter with satisfaction. Your hips grind on forward, only making him press his thighs harder against yours, keeping your legs apart and hips locked on down.
"Shh baby doll," he cooed in your ear, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Stay still for me yeah?"
You could only whimper in response as he continued those maddening circles. The wet sounds of his fingers working you filled the room accompanied by your desperate soft moans and whines, heat crawled up your neck at how obscene it all sounded. Your hands gripped his forearms as you turned your face away, trying to bury your tiny sounds in the fabric of his clothes somehow, nails digging in slightly.
"Don’t," he hummed against your neck. His other hand slid up under your shirt to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple. "You sound amazing." He punctuated his words with a firmer circle on your clit that made you gasp. You let out a higher pitched mewl, back arching towards his touch. "That's it baby doll."
Your thighs tried to close instinctively at the building pleasure, but his legs held firm "Keep them open," he flexed his clothed thighs to hold yours in place. "You're doing so good for me."
"Nanami—" you started, squirming against him, your skin flushed dark under your boyfriend’s touch.
His fingers continued their work on your clit, occasionally dipping lower to gather more of your arousal. You were getting wetter by the second, so much you could feel it dripping down, soaking the sheets beneath you. You pushed back against him, feeling the hard length of him pressed against your lower back, equally as aroused as you were.
"Feels good doesn’t it?" his voice had dropped lower, rumbling against your back through his chest. He dragged his fingers through your folds, the glide completely effortless now. "No friction at all." You could feel his small smile against your neck.
He pulled away for a second, bringing in index and middle finger up so you could see yourself. They were drenched, glistening with your arousal, strings of it connecting his fingers when he spread them apart.
"Look," he said quietly, his breath warm against your ear. "Making such a pretty mess." He rolled your hardened nipple between the rough pads of his fingers. "I might get addicted to this."
He brought his fingers back down, this time slowly pushing his middle and ring finger inside, feeling your mushy walls with light strokes, his pinky and index resting on the plush skin of your ass as the other two dug in. Your entrance throbbed around him, clenching involuntarily at the intrusion, he himself made a quiet sound of approval against your neck, his length twitch against your back just from feeling you.
"N-Nanami..," you whispered, jaw hanging open. "I — more, please—"
"Asking so nicely," he cooed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He began pumping his finger in and out, letting you feel every inch, every drag of his knuckle against your walls, each thrust made you flutter around him. His thumb found your clit again, resuming those maddening slow circles, you felt the bundle of nerves beginning to swell under his constant attention. "You're doing so good love, does that feel good?"
"Yes," you gasped, one hand reaching back to tangle in his hair. "God, yes."
The sounds grew louder—wet, rhythmic, the slick glide of his finger pumping into you. His breathing grew heavier in your ear, more labored despite how in control he seemed.
"Fuck, just listen to you," he hummed, making your heart flutter at the sudden profanity, ooh were you getting him worked up.
"There you go," He scissored his fingers inside you, working you open as you felt yourself gush around them. Your walls fluttered rhythmically around his fingers as he moved, his heavy breathing ghosting your flushed skin constantly.
Your thighs trembled, trying to close again at the overwhelming—but godly— sensation, but his legs were quicker and held you firmly in place, spread wide and vulnerable. You ground back against him in protest, feeling the twitch of his length against your back.
"Stay open," he reminded you, his thumb pressed harder on your clit, making the bundle of nerves swell further under the relentless attention. Then his fingers curled without warning, a flash of white spreading behind your eyes at the new and welcomed sensation as a high pitched moan excaped you. "Tell me if it’s too much."
He curled his fingers again, hitting that spot inside that made your toes curl, made your back arch against him. His thumb kept circled your clit—the bud completely swelled up from arousal, the sensitivity was almost unbearable.
"Right there," he nearly moaned, satisfaction seeping through his strained voice. The hand that had been toying with your nipple left it’s spot to slide down your stomach, pressing down near your pelvis to keep you still. "I can’t wait to feel you around me." He whispered through the soft trail of kisses he left on your skin.
Your grip tightening in his hair as he stroked over that perfect spot again and again, his thumb working your clit in relentless circles. The combination became overwhelming—his fingers pumping into you, curling to hit that perfect spot, his thumb on your increasingly sensitive clit. His breathing was harsh in your ear now, punctuated by quiet groans he couldn't quite suppress himself. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his thighs flexed harder against yours.
"Does it feel tight here?" he pressed down on your pelvis where his hand held you, his voice softening. You could only nod, chasing that new feeling you were so desperate to reach.
His thighs pressed harder against yours, keeping you spread impossibly wide as your body tensed. His rhythm never faltered, nor did it speed up, keeping that same pace he’d been using on you for the last few minutes, making your climax come to you as softly as possible.
Then your whole body seized, your walls clenching rhythmically around his heavy fingers as that tightness in your gut finally broke. Your eyes were screwed shut, stars still dancing behind your eyelids accompanied by a sudden lightheadedness, a strangled mewl leaving your lips. You were making a mess of the bed *and* his fingers, but he didn’t seem to mind, a soft kiss finding its way to your cheek.
"That's it," he breathed, working you through it. "Just like that, good girl."
You went limp against him as the sensation faded, trembling with small aftershocks still pulsing through you at the last strokes on your spent bud. You were almost made that you’d never came before, never have felt this.
He slowly withdrew his fingers, they were completely soaked, your arousal coating them obscenely, dripping down his palm.
"Look at what you did," He let out a breathy laugh as he looked down at your exhausted form, your eyes meeting his for a second. The sight of you like this, eyes heavy, lips swollen from at that biting, and properly flushed made the fabric around him feel incredibly painful. He brought his coated fingers towards you, pressing down gently against your lower lip. "I’ll let you get a taste before I do."
You were taken aback, yet you found yourself parting your lips without thinking. He slid his fingers inside, his mouth slightly agap as well as he watched them slide in, letting you taste your own arousal—and somehow this still felt intimate, hot in ways you’d never thought of. His fingers moved slowly against your tongue, and you heard him groan softly above you.
"That’s it baby doll," he whispered, withdrawing his fingers slowly, that same hand now cupping your chin so you properly looked up at him, his thighs still keeping yours spread, still holding you open.
"Mind to share?" a small smile ghosted on his lips, a complete contrast from the scene.
Your heart stuttered as he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was somehow both sweet and demanding. His tongue swept across your lower lip before slipping inside, tasting your own arousal on your tongue. The groan that rumbled from his chest vibrated against your back, his hand still cradling your jaw softly. When he finally pulled back, his pupils were blown wide, eyes dark and completely yearning for more.
"Sweet," he whispered against your lips, thumb brushing your flushed cheek. “strong enough for another one?”
my first time writing a nanami short, another pokemon added to the collection ✨
"I've never....touched myself before." you mutter, your face scrunched up in embarassment as you reveal so.
Boybestfriend!Gojo's jaw widens when you explain you've never had sex, let alone even pleasured yourself.
The topic came up in your conversation as the two of you were watching a movie in which a scene displayed the male main character appearing to masturbate. "That's not even how it works." Gojo mutters and looks beside himself at you but surprisingly this time you don't have a funny quip to retort with.
He comments further about how it would take longer but scowls at the lack of your reaction.
That's when he half-jokingly asks you if you've even masturbated before, but to his surprise, you reply with "I haven't..."
It shouldn't surprise him, knowing you grew up in a conservative household till you left home for college. But considering the amount of dirty jokes the two of you would make and laugh at with each other, the idea of you not having any experience whatsoever confused him. Little did he know the most you knew about sex was from the very jokes he'd made.
"You're lying." He mutters, sounding more like he wanted to convince himself.
"I'm not." Your face flushes a deep red. "Can we just not talk about this? jeez." You shrug into your seat, pulling at the strings of your hoodie so that the hood of it would close around your face.
Boybestfriend!Gojo put aside the ramen cup he'd been eating out of to pull the hood down your head and look at you, to really look at you.
"It feels really good. i mean, i'm not a girl and its probably not the same, but i'm sure it would feel good for you too."
There's no way this is seriously happening.
"I can teach you how." He mutters and suddenly youre so very aware of the way he looks at you, the way he leers down at your body.
NUH-UH. NOT HAPPENING.
Boybestfriend!Gojo watches closely as you pull down your shorts, your face tomato-red as you follow his instructions. Your fingers stop in its tracks halfway when you genuinely can't bare the intensity of his gaze growing on you with every inch of your skin that's exposed to him. "Can you not watch?"
"You shy?" He chuckles, hooking two finger into the waistband of your shorts himself and tugging them down swiftly. "How am i supposed to teach you if i can't see."
You notice the way his eyes slightly widen when he notices the wet patch on your laced panties. He smirks at that. "Looks like she's already excited."
"She?" You almost choke on your own saliva.
"Your pussy."
You hate the way you only feel yourself getting wetter, hearing him talking about you in that smug tone.
"Pull down your panties." He orders and you obediently comply.
"Shit, you're so pretty." He grunts as you expose your glistening folds and you ignore the way his hand moved to palm his cock under his pants.
"Touch-" He swallows the lump in his throat. "Touch it. Touch yourself."
You hesistate, looking down at yourself. You've always avoided your own pleasure, having grown up with religious parents that barely brought up pleasure or taught you sex-education. It felt sinful, slipping a hand between your soaking cunt. "I-I don't really know how."
Boybestfriend!Gojo's eyes softened at that. "Its alright. Its not astrophysics, just do what makes you feel good." His hands are itching at his side, wanting to explain by demonstrating with his own fingers but he knows better than to do that when you're already hesistant.
You hold your breath as you start to move your fingers up and down across your folds, hissing when you feel the weird tingling sensation you soon identify to be pleasure. "Like this?"
"Hmm." He hums, his voice hoarse. "Do you feel good?"
"It feels funny...but yeah, i feel good." you reply, throwing your head back against the wall as you touch yourself and weirdly the pleasure heightens from the very fact that your best friend's watching you do it.
You glance at him and you can see his strained expression. "fuck it, i'm gonna do it too." He shrugs down his pants harshly, his erection springing out of the confines of his boxer. But he pauses to look up at you when he catches you flinching. "Are you uncomfortable with this?" He mutters, his eyes begging you to say no because he can't stand a minute of controlling himself anymore.
You shake your head side to side in a 'no' since you were too distracted by your own pleasure to reply.
"F-Fuck." Boybestfriend!Gojo shudders when he wraps his fist around his thick cock and weirdly his eyes didn't leave you.
You mouth runs dry at the sight of his large, veiny cock. It much more than what you'd assumed a man's penis would look like and you're already wondering what it would feel to have it inside you.
"Try putting a finger inside." He cuts you out of your filthy thoughts.
"Inside?" You look down at yourself, ashamed at your inexperience but Boybestfriend!Gojo showed no sign of judgement.
"Feel around to find it." His other hand reaches over, pausing a second to look at you before sliding a thumb across your pussy. You whimper at the foreign sensation against your skin. He finds your entrance with easy and taps against it. "Here." he reluctantly pulls away his thumb and focuses his hands on his own pleasure.
You then try prodding a finger into the area he showed you but you only scowl when you only feel an irritating pain at the intrusion. "It hurts."
Boybestfriend!Gojo's fists pause in its track to laugh at the way you pout when you don't get pleasure out of it. "It's alright, probably because its your first time. Just focus on where it feels good."
You nod, your fingers returning to your clit, which you realized brought you most pleasure. You soon feel the pleasure building up to a peak and your fingers only move faster.
Boybestfriend!Gojo notices the way your lips are pursed tight into a line as if you hold yourself from making any noise and he scowls at that. He slides his thumb over your plump lip before prying your mouth open. "Let me hears those sweet moans."
A loud moan leaves your lips at those words itself and he smirks in satisfaction. "That's my girl. let me here more, hm?"
The stimulation from your fingers combined with his dirty-talking has you seeing stars. You want it to stop and want more of it at the same time. The obscene moans leaving your lips has you flushed in embarassment but you can't even control yourself because you realize you're close to an orgasm.
"Satoru- i think i'm.....i'm about to..."
"Your about to cum, hm?" He smiles as he strokes himself watching you. "Me too."
He watches as your eyes roll back at the height of your pleasure, your orgasm crashing down on you hard. Your body is spasming as you ride out the high of your orgasm. Cum gushes out, the liquid coating your fingers.
Boybestfriend!Gojo can't take his eyes off you. The sight of you has him more hard than any porn he's ever jerked off to. Soon enough, he's cumming too, thick ropes of cum spilling from the thick head of his cock.
The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of the two of your panting and heavy with the smell of arousal.
Boybestfriend!Gojo shuts his eyes, leaning against the couch and smiles like a fool. "I can teach you how to have sex next, if you'd like."
fratboy!nanami who constantly gets overlooked by his frat brothers. so, he fucks the girl everyone wants to prove he's more than just a square ˙⋆✮ smut, exobitionism (?)
fratboy!nanami was, for lack of better terms, a stickler. there was a reason he was the vice president of phi delta theta after all. he was astute, well mannered, harsh when needed, and overall a very well put together man. but, vicing a rowdy president like gojo left little time to himself where he wasn’t cleaning up a mess satoru had made.
as a result, the blonde had little to no time to fully engage in the... college experience.
kento wasn’t bothered by this fact, to be honest, he liked the work that came with the frat. he was well respected, had a purpose, and had a certain amount of control in his environment, exactly how he liked it.
but, on nights where his brothers would get on the piss and become a little too bold, the incessant teasing would begin.
toji had kicked it off this time, “ken, when th’ fuck are you gonna get laid?” the inquiry caused an onslaught of laughter and consistent goading.
“yeah, maybe some pussy’d help with that stick up yr’ ass,” sukuna huffed out, taking a hit of the cone circling round’ the room.
“leave him aloneee,” gojo added on, flopping down onto the couch and swinging an arm over nanami’s bulky shoulders, “let the poor man be celibate, he’s got other shit to worry about.”
“yeah? like all the fuck-ups you cause for everyone else when you’re on one of your little power trips?” suguru piped up.
“shut up.” the blue-eyed freak spat back.
nanami would just roll those pretty hazel eyes and take a swig of his drink, telling them all to fuck off before ignoring any further digs.
he wasn’t a virgin or anything, like i said, he was just busy. he’d had a fair few girls before he sold his soul to the house, it’d just been a while! that’s all. he told himself he didn’t give a shit, but then the boys did it again. and again, and again, and again.
after around the sixth time, the man had enough.
he was gonna get laid alright, and he was gonna leave a lasting impression on all of his fuckwit friends.
kento had the perfect plan cooking up in his head. out of everyone on campus, he knew there was only one person he could ask to carry said plan out with, and that was you.
you were very well known among the frats. not for being a notorious slut or anything, no way, the complete opposite actually. you were hot shit, on track for an equitable future, the embodiment of look but don’t touch, a certified man-hating pillar. you never gave any guy the time of day, always choosing to hang with your friends at parties rather than give a male the satisfaction of your company.
you had one exception, though. and that was nanami.
he was your partner in one of your classes last year and he treated you with nothing less than respect. not once did he try to flirt or play around like most guys did, he just kept his head down, made normal conversation, and used his manners.
god, why couldn’t all guys be like nanami?
it wasn't much of a secret that you’d formed a little crush on the man, and if you weren’t mistaken, you’d say he liked you too after all the flirty conversation you’d exchanged since the project. but then again, the whole 'busy' thing. a little annoying that the first guy you’d had a proper crush on was always too busy being big and important at his frat, but you could deal with it.
nanami was worth it.
anyway, long story short, he was the only guy who had the privilege of being in your contact list on campus, and that warranted a lot of back-and-forth conversation.
nanami smiled at the last chat you’d had about hating gojo, then sent the message that would start everything off.
kento [7:38pm] evening, [name]. i hope you’re doing well.
kento [7:38pm] i was wondering if we could meet up and talk sometime soon?
you [7:42pm] kento!
you [7:42pm] hiii :)
you [7:42pm] ofc, tell me when and where and i’m there
kento [7:45pm] perfect, does right now and my room sound okay? i’m sorry, i know it’s such short notice.
you [7:45pm] mhmmm that’s fine
you [7:45pm] omw!
now it wasn’t like kento was using you, no chance in hell. this wasn’t a one-sided scheme, he too had had a crush on you for quite some time and he knew you liked him as well. in fact, the two of you had frequently spoken about how your joint lack of sex weighed heavier on the both of you than you’d liked to admit.
“y’know, ken. if you ever wanted to indulge, i'd be happy to help.”
“how generous, most men would kill to hear you say that,”
“what can i say, you’re pretty special to me.”
“we’ll see, angel.”
well, this was him seeing.
~
“ken, y’ in there?” nanami heard drift from the other side of his door, followed by three short knocks.
he instantly shot up, straightened out his shirt, then strolled up and opened his heavy wooden door.
“evening, glad you could make it.” he smiles softly, taking all of you in with lidded eyes.
“anything for you.” you teased half heartedly, oblivious to the effect that little quirk had on his now throbbing cock.
he closes the door behind you, then ushers you to sit beside him on his bed.
“well, don’t you look lovely. i hope the guys didn’t give you too much trouble on the way up here? i should have met you downstairs, my bad.”
taking a loose thread from your shirt and twirling it around your finger, you smile and reply fondly. “they weren’t too bad. just told them we needed to study and they left me alone. and it’s no issue, i was the early one.”
nanami smiled at your unusually formal reply. very different from your regular laid back demeanour, he could tell you were a little nervous.
“you’re probably wondering why i asked you over so late?”
“mhm, what's that about? y' need something?”
yeah, you.
he shook his head and turned to face you completely. “you remember that talk we had last summer? how we chatted about—”
“—about our sex lives? or... lack thereof.”
he's taken aback at how readily that slipped from your lips, like you were just waiting for this to come up.
“yes, well... exactly.” he clears his throat and curls his pointer finger around your pinky that lays rested against his bed sheets, sending a flush of heat to both your face and lower stomach.
“now, what i'm about to ask is going to sound terribly douchey, but i'd like if you were to hear me out...” he looks up at you to see you nodding along with an intrigued little glint behind your eyes. “the guy’s have been especially irritating as of late about how little action i get, and it’s getting on my nerves.”
he sighs in pure embarrassment from how horrible this was about to come off, “i was wondering if you’d be open to—”
“yes!”
nanami looks a little shocked at how you cut him off once again, staring at you with an air of surprise.
“i mean, yes.” you say a tad calmer. “yes, i wanna do it, with you... now.”
the once stoic man finds it hard to suppress his enjoyment and lets go of a soft laugh.
“eager, i see.”
“you could say that.”
well, that was easy.
“so, you don’t mind if i...” his hand slips up your arm, pulling you closer to his body with a low, sly smirk. seeing him in this light did nothing to aid the coil tightening in the pit of your stomach, and you nod feverishly.
“please...”
the reaction is instant, he leans in and gently takes your lips in a deep, slow kiss. nanami allows you to set the speed, starting out nice and slow, but for you that wasn't enough, you’d spent too long needing this man for this to be anything but fast-paced and passionate.
you bite at his bottom lip as you slip into his lap, earning a guttural moan deep from the man’s throat. both his thick thighs and iron grip on your waist made for a nice seat as you begin to rock your hips back and forth against his hard, clothed cock. your tongues dance together as he keeps one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your head, guiding your face towards him as he desperately deepens the kiss.
you pull away for air then drag your hand up his shirt, feeling his firm chest and solid stomach. “you’re built...”
“surprised?” he quirks a brow, running his hands up and down your sides purposefully.
“guess not... i wanna see.” you gently tug the bottom of the shirt then reach for the hem and pull it over his head. rippling abs and lines of thick muscles come into view, and you hold your breath in astonishment at the sheer amount of muscle mass. you’re completely awestruck at his build, his reddening chest rising and falling heavily as he struggles against his arousal. his entire torso was covered in a light sheen of sweat and his abs twitch as you follow the center crevice down.
“you’re so hot, my god...” you breathe, any other guy would solicit no more than an impressed nod. but nanami? his ego deserved to be stroked.
“thank you, angel.” he grins. “now let’s get these off.” he slips one hand beneath the waistband of your shorts, tugging you higher on his lap with the other arm to create enough room for him to yank them off. with one less layer of fabric, the pressure of his dick now felt all but too much to handle as he continued to explore your mouth with his tongue. your previous grinding movements started to slow from the new intensity, you were scared you’d finish right then if you were to keep going. but just then, nanami pulls away for a second, his hands now on your hips as he manually begins to pull you down harder.
“keep grinding, baby. you can do it.”
he's acting all smooth and suave, but deep down? he’s beside himself that he managed to capture your attention. out of all the men thirsting over you, you’d chosen him. he wasn’t particularly flashy or especially funny, yet you’d decided to entertain him when so many others would kill to be in his position.
by now you’re letting the filthiest of sounds pour from your lips into his open mouth as your clothed clit bumps against his concealed cock over and over again. you try your best to conceal your sounds, but he pulls back to tease you a little, his cheeks flushed red as he smiles. “don’t hide those pretty whines, baby. i want them to hear.”
he then hoists you up, flips you over, and climbs over you, pinning your arms over your head as he overtakes your lips. as he grinds, you free a hand, but he catches it and guides it to the front of his jeans, placing your fingers against his fastened belt. “go on, sweetheart.”
between breathless kisses you undo the leather and slide it out and onto the floor. you take your time teasing and unzipping his jeans and he moans lowly when your hand curls around his semi-freed cock, gently smoothing over his boxers.
“fuck, that feels s’ good.” he slurs, latching onto your neck and rocking his hips up and into the palm of your hand.
you bite your lip as he begins to litter hickeys over your neck, you slip your fingers into his underwear and cup your hand over the shaft, stroking up and down before pressing your thumb into his dripping tip. he whimpered against your lips, cock twitching and hips jerking uncontrollably.
he makes sure to make a show of it. there was no movie playing downstairs, nor were the speakers blasting bad rap, so the house was perfectly in order to be subjected to both his, and your thirsty sounds.
he'd make sure every one of those assholes could get a good idea of just how much he could get if he really wanted.
nanami grabs your wrist, panting heavily. leaning his head against your shoulder, he places soft kisses on your neck, working up to your ear before tugging your shirt off along with your pretty, red, lacy bra.
fuck, he’d never been harder than he was right now, you really had it over him.
“a matching set, hm? you hoped tonight would end up like this?”
you flush, embarrassed that he’d caught on to your presumption of this happening. “a little...”
“what a naughty thing.” he laughs. “i’ll show you just how thankful i am to you, baby. you deserve to be treated like an angel.” he unclips the bra, then cups one of your breasts and squeezes gently, huffing out an appreciative sigh as he dips down to take the nipple into his mouth.
“fuck—!” you whine, your own hips jerking and grinding up into nothing at the delicious sensation.
he rolls the soft bud between his teeth softly, then two thick fingers trail down your stomach and into your panties, tugging them off before rubbing your clit in circular movements, dj-ing the bundle of nerves until you’re whining and writhing beneath him like a woman possessed.
“ken—! fuck, i can’t, i can’t! fuck, i need you!”
pulling off with a ‘pop!’, he grins at your now bare body, slipping his fingers between your soaked folds before tugging off his boxers and freeing the monster of a cock you’d only felt up until now. he pumps the shaft a few times before slapping the tip against your clit.
you lay there, entranced. “oh my... you’re fucking massive.”
“yeah?” he grins, letting go and cupping your face tenderly. “think you can take it, baby?” he asks genuinely, searching your eyes for any sense of hesitation. “we can stop at any point, okay? just tap me three times and i'll stop, promise.”
you only gulp in reply, staring at the thing nervously before opening up your legs fully, your sweet spot on full display for him.
“be gentle...”
“of course, love.”
with one arm beside your head and the other on his cock, the muscular man lines up, then pushes slowly into your sopping cunt with a, “fuuuckk.”
you huff out a whine, squeezing your eyes shut, trying your best to accommodate for his big size.
“holy shit! ken— i— fuck—” you’re already a blabbering mess and he’s not even halfway in, adorable, really.
kento smiles as he draws such pretty noises from your throat, thrusting in a little faster to see just how loud he can make you scream.
“kento! you're so fucking big, shit!”
he hopes everyone hears that.
“almost there, honey. keep your hips still, i'm almost— fuck!—” with one final pull, he’s bottomed out, your stomach bulging from his size.
“god, ken! move, please move. need you.” you groan, gripping the sheets with balled fists, in complete and utter ecstasy from the full feeling,
he listens, rocking his hips back and forth. he goes tantalisingly slow at first, then speeds up as your whines grow desperate,
“more, please, go faster ken!”
he pounds into you relentlessly. sure, it’d been a while since he’d done this, but he couldn’t let himself be anything less than perfect for you, because in his eyes, you were perfection.
with each thrust he’s drawing you closer and closer, each dirty word coiling you up tighter and tighter, until finally,
“o-oh! kento, i think m’ gonna— i think i'm gonna—”
and with one final thrust, you’ve come undone all over the man’s cock. he rocks into you a few times with nasty grunts before coming himself, thick ropes of seed painting your insides, the warmth sending your brain into overdrive.
he keeps still for a good while after it all, panting heavily with his weight pressed over you, his forehead dipped down near your collarbone.
his thumbs drag over your waist gently as you both calm, huffing and shaking with pleasure.
“shit,” he whispers into your ear, “you were fucking amazing.” he laughs, tired.
you let out this small, stupid laugh, “so were you, kento.”
he smiles and brushes a soft kiss to your temple before finally pushing himself up, “you all good?” he asks gently.
you nod, then realise how intently he'd looking at you, waiting for an answer. “m’ good. really good.” you grin.
that gets another one of those small smiles. “good, let me clean you up, angel.”
he disappears off the bed for a second, grabbing something from his drawer, then comes back with a warm, damp cloth. “open your legs f’ me.” you obey and he wipes away the mess he’d left behind tenderly. to think, the same guy who had you pinned down on his cock just minutes ago, now taking his time making sure you’re clean and comfortable
“ken,” you say, softer now.
“hm?”
“that was… really nice.”
he stills for half a second, then resumes. “yeah?”
“yeah.”
he glances up at you then, eyes searching your face like he’s trying to figure out if you’re just saying it, but you’re not.
“i was worried this’d be…” he trails off, “i dunno.”
“what, bad?” you snort.
“no,” he says quickly, “just… not this.”
you tilt your head. “you mean not… us?”
he doesn’t answer, he finishes what he’s doing, sets the cloth aside, then leans back on his hands looking at you.
“i guess so, yeah,” he admits. “wasn’t sure you’d even say yes.”
“yeah, well... i liked it being us. and i’d like it to be us again, if you catch my drift.”
“me too,” he smiles, kissing your forehead once more.
you scoot closer to the man and rest your head against his arm. “we could’ve done that ages ago.”
he lets out something between a laugh and a sigh. “i know, and i wish we did.”
“we’re so dumb.”
“mhm.”
you smile, nudging him. “you like me.” you tease.
he looks down at you, then away with a flush on his cheek.
“and you like me.” he replies.
“i do.”
“so what now?” he asks, looking down at you with curious eyes.
“well... i like you, and you like me... normally this is where people start seeing each other.”
“well, i’d love to start ‘seeing’ you, [name].”
your brow quirks. “yeah?”
“i mean it,” he says, more serious now. “this isn’t just me proving something to those assholes. i really like you, sweetheart.”
you blush gently, then reply, “good. because i really like you too, i’d be a little pissed if this was just to get back at them.”
“two things can exist at once.” his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining together.
after a good two hours of talking about what this meant for the two of you, nanami dressed you, fed you, and walked you to your car outside the frat at around 2am.
“text me when you get home,” he says.
“yes, dad.”
“i’m serious.”
“i know,” you grin. “i will.”
you lean in and plant a quick kiss to his cheek, then slip into your car.
~
the next morning, nanami’s standing in the kitchen making avocado toast with a big old smile on his usually stoic face.
as he’s spreading the avo across the bread, one by one, his frat brothers trudge down the stairs. they yawn and stretch as they stalk towards the kitchen.
“morning,” nanami calls over his shoulder.
no one really answers him properly, so he glances over his shoulder.
gojo, suguru, toji, sukuna. they’re all just standing there, looking at him like they’ve seen a ghost. a tall, muscular, post-sex glow ghost.
he furrows his brows in faux confusion. “what?”
gojo’s the first to break. “so...”
nanami sighs. “so?..”
“did you—” suguru starts, then cuts himself off, “did you... and [name]… like, fuck?”
nanami turns back to his toast and cuts off his crusts. “yes.”
...
toji lets out a low whistle. “no way.”
“way,” nanami replies dryly.
sukuna leans against the counter. “you’re serious?”
“i don’t make a habit of lying.”
the men are still awkwardly quiet, then gojo steps forward, grin creeping back onto his face, but for once, this time, it’s not mocking.
“y’ sounded pretty passionate last night. real cozy, you guys a thing now?”
“yep.”
toji walks up and claps him on the shoulder. “didn’t think you had it in you.”
“clearly,” nanami mutters.
suguru smirks. “she’s hot as hell, man.”
nanami doesn’t respond to that, just takes a sip of his black coffee.
sukuna gives a short nod. “you're real lucky.”
“i know.”
and there it is. silence. no digs at his lacking sex life, no jokes about his dry dick, and no incessant teasing.
god, is this heaven?
gojo stands by nanami’s side, then sticks his hand out. “good job, man.”
nanami looks at it for a second, then takes it.
one by one, they follow with quick daps and nods of approval, like some unspoken ‘bully the fuck out of nanami’ rule just got rewritten.
and then they’re moving on, grabbing food, talking about anything else and finally leaving him alone at the counter.
nanami exhales slowly, staring down at his plate.
bliss. no more comments, no more pressure, absolutely nothing left for them to hold over him.
and yet, that’s not even the best part.
he reaches for his phone, smiling fondly as he types you out a message.
kento [8:12am] good morning, angel. did you have a nice sleep?
you [8:12am] best sleep of my life.
kento [8:12am] i'm glad. could i come over tonight?
A/N was motivated to write this req for wifey @fricks, and co-creators @blu-goingdark and @/kiwiladylaurence (silly girl won't give me her @) helped me with an idea uwu so sugoii
𝜗℘ ˖ ࣪ . ˖˙ older bf!gojo sleeps on the couch after an argument :: tags. hurt & comfort. fluff. age gap (reader early 20’s & satoru early 30’s) :: ac. thatsallitchief
satoru shifts on the couch and yawns inaudibly. he’s tired after an exhausting day at work and only now has the chance to settle down in the comfort of his apartment.
though, he can’t really relax just yet. the reason why being the undeniable tension hanging in the air. he is in fact home, but it doesn’t feel like it.
not when you are missing.
you had holed yourself up in the master bedroom after an earlier argument the two of you had. it wasn’t a big fight—just a little squabble between lovers.
satoru didn’t rush after you when you decided to walk away mid argument. you clearly weren’t in the right headspace to properly articulate nor communicate your feelings.
he figured that you need some time alone, which is why he decided to leave you be. he didn’t want to risk losing you by annoying you any further.
satoru scrolls on his phone out of boredom. the light radiating off the screen starts to bother his already sensitive eyes. thus with a sigh, he shuts off the device and puts it down on the coffee table.
it’s suddenly dead silent in the apartment that’s usually filled with your chatter. your boyfriend truly wants nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the covers and fall asleep.
but, you need space. and he isn’t going to disturb your peace.
satoru drapes an arm over his eyes and pulls the thin blanket over his chest. his breaths are steady and his thoughts are surprisingly calm. he nearly drifts off to sleep, but the creaking of a door jolts him right back up.
careful footsteps echo throughout the hallway and stop right at the doorstep of the living room.
satoru moves his arm to the side. his blue eyes land on the figure standing at the doorframe—one which he can recognise everywhere.
it’s you, standing there with your head held low and your fingers curled around the hem of your nightgown. you linger in the same spot for a few seconds without saying a word.
“hey, baby,” satoru breaks the silence. his voice is as soft as it can be, not an ounce of annoyance or frustration heard in it. even if he has all the reasons to be upset.
it all comes back to you; you remember just how childish you had acted earlier. you had lost all rationality, shouted at your boyfriend out of frustration and ran off mid sentence instead of properly addressing the issue at hand.
the way you handled that situation was wrong and immature.
in contrast to your childish behaviour, satoru had stayed calm throughout the entirety of your argument. he hadn’t raised his voice at you nor did he blame you for anything.
you feel bad for acting like a bratty kid who didn’t get her way.
you eventually move towards the couch, still not making eye contact with your boyfriend. he sits up and simply watches you with a raised eyebrow—curious as to what you are about to do.
you know you have to apologise for your behaviour, but what you need first is his comfort. his validation. so, you wordlessly climb onto the couch and under the blanket he’s using.
your arms wrap around your boyfriend’s torso and you hug him tightly, face buried in his shirt to cover your embarrassed and remorseful expression.
satoru’s eyes widen slightly at the sudden show of affection, however he doesn’t complain. he reciprocates the gesture and nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head.
“my little baby,” he coos teasingly, hands rubbing your back in attempt to reassure you that everything is fine, “i’m happy you decided to come back to me—thank you.”
again. that tender tone satoru uses only with and for you.
the guilt from earlier hits you like a truck and your eyes well up with tears before you could stop them.
“sorry,” your voice cracks once you finally muster out an apology. the warmth engulfing your cold body js enough to make you sob in his comforting embrace.
satoru sighs and closes his eyes. he rests his chin on top of your head whilst holding you like his life depends on it.
no words are exchanged between two of you for a good minute. satoru silently encourages you to cry it out, which you do. after calming down, you sniffle and pull your head away from his chest. your eyes are watery and a bit red.
the pad of his thumb sweeps the stray tears away from your cheeks, his touch precise and careful. he smiles softly at the sight of his teary-eyed girlfriend. you’re so adorable and precious to him. even when you look like a mess—a pretty mess.
“i just..” you start off, small hiccups interrupting your sentence, “i wanna apologise for acting so childish. i shouldn’t have said nor did any of those hurtful things. i’m really sorry, ‘toru.”
satoru nods along to your words. he hums in delight and kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for longer than intended, “don’t worry, baby. i understand. thank you for apologising, though.”
you mutter a small ‘of course’ in-between sniffles. that is all the reassurance you need to hear from your boyfriend. though, you still feel bad and the guilt of your immature actions seems to linger in the back of your mind.
you lay your head back on satoru’s chest and listen to his heartbeat—hoping that the constant sound would drown out any other thoughts. your lover lies on his back and pulls you down on top of him. his hands rub your sides, slender fingers toying with the silky material of your nightgown.
“sorry for being immature sometimes. i’m sure it must be a pain in the ass to deal with,” you mumble with a pout.
satoru grins and shakes his head in response. he loves every side of yours—even your immature one. if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now. he truly loves all of you.
the older man places another soft kiss on top of your head and closes his eyes afterwards, “keheh, i’d be lying if i said that you tryin’ to act all tough earlier wasn’t cute.”
satoru snickers at the memory. he remembers how you pointed that finger of yours in his face and how you tried to subtly stand on the tips of your toes so you could look him in the eyes properly. your attempts at looking intimidating had been quite endearing.
it’s not like he is invalidating your feelings with that comment—he’s genuinely trying to lighten your mood. and it isn’t like it didn’t work.
“whatever,” you huff, playfully swatting his biceps and gaining an over exaggerated ‘ow!’ in response.
you’re glad that things have gone back to normal between you two. if the situation had continued for any longer, you’d have lost your mind.
you also don’t seem to be the only one who is extremely relieved. satoru is also beaming with joy because he gets to hold and talk to you again. that small period of silence between the both of you felt like an eternity to him.
it’s obvious that no matter how many times you have those little arguments, satoru will still love you all the same.
᭡୧ Fix your route? Nah, Fuck you right. — N. Kento.
᭡୧ synopsis: in which nanami is a longtime divorced man but got a very active sex life. and in which a new, bimbo… and a very much younger neighbor moves in next to his apartment. worst part is, he’s not able to control himself around you. especially when you’re at his door, asking him to fix your wifi late at this hour.
᭡୧ pairing: older!nanami kento x kinda bimbo fem!reader
᭡୧ c. warnings: age gap, heavy sexuál tension, eyefu cking, solo m. mast urbation, nanami is in his 40s and reader is early 20s, belly/tummy bulge, fing ering, did i say heavy se xual tension?, pus sy eating, overstim ulation, squi rting, weak plot/heavy po rn — if there’s more to tag lmk. w.c: 7.8k+
nanami kento has always kept his life neat and quiet, the kind of man who folds his shirts the same way every morning and times his coffee exactly seven minutes after the water boils. forty years old, divorced once a long time ago, and now he lives alone in the corner apartment on the fourth floor where the hallway light flickers just enough to remind him he should probably call maintenance but never does.
his sex life is the same as everything else he controls, sparse and deliberate. a few times a year he lets himself download one of those bland apps, meets a woman his age in a hotel bar, fucks her slow and polite in the dark so neither of them has to look too closely at the other.
most nights though it is just his own hand in the shower, quick and efficient, eyes closed while he thinks about nothing at all. he likes it that way. clean. no mess. no complications. until you moved in next door three months ago and ruined every single one of those careful rules without even trying.
you showed up on a rainy tuesday with too many cardboard boxes and a laugh that carried through the thin walls like it belonged there.
early twenties, fresh out of whatever college or job that spat you into this building, always in oversized shirts and tiny sleep shorts that rode up the back of your thighs when you bent over to pick up your mail. nanami noticed you the first time he passed you in the hallway, the way you smiled at him like he was just another neighbor instead of a man who suddenly felt every one of those twenty years between you. he told himself it was nothing. just new noise in a building that had been quiet for years. but then the noise became something else.
the soft thump of your music when you cooked dinner, the way your balcony light stayed on late while you scrolled on your phone, the faint vanilla scent that drifted under his door every time you took out the trash. he started catching himself pausing at the peephole when he heard your keys, hating the way his cock twitched at the mere sound of your footsteps. hating it more when he realized he was hard again in the shower that same night, fist wrapped tight around himself while he pictured those sleep shorts pooled around your ankles.
he tried to ignore it at first. threw himself into longer office hours, came home later, kept the volume on his television higher so he would not hear you humming in the shower through the shared wall. it did not work.
every little thing you did chipped at him. the way you waved from your balcony in the mornings wearing nothing but a thin tank top and no bra, nipples stiff from the cool air. the way you asked him once, all sweet and shy, if he knew how to fix a leaking faucet and stood too close while he worked, soft focused grunts leaving is chest and his rolled-up sleeve. after that night he jerked off twice before he could even get his jeans off, coming so hard he had to brace one hand on the shower tile just to stay upright.
he hated how easily you affected him. hated that a girl barely old enough to rent her own apartment could make a man like him, a man who prided himself on control, feel like some desperate teenager again. his sex life used to be something he managed. now it was just quiet frustration and the occasional guilty stroke while he thought about how small you would look under him, how tight you would feel, how pretty you would sound moaning his name.
then came the router. you knocked on his door at nine-thirty one random night, voice small and embarrassed over the phone first, then in person when he opened up still dressed in his white button-up and black jeans.
nanami stands at your doorway with one hand already in his pocket, the other holding the small toolbox he keeps for these exact random neighbor emergencies all ready, and he tells himself for the tenth time that this is nothing. just a quick fix.
your voice is soft and a little embarrassed over he’s not surprised. “sorry to bother you, nanami-san, but my wifi router just died and i have no idea what i’m doing with these things.” he had sighed, told you he would be right over, and now here he is, hating every single second because the moment you open the door he feels it again. that pull. that stupid, inconvenient heat low in his gut that has been creeping up on him since the day you moved in.
you are wearing your famous oversized t-shirt that slips off one shoulder and tiny sleep shorts that ride up when you shift your weight, bare feet on the hardwood, skin glazed with a thin layer of sweat like you had been lounging on the couch all evening.
you smile at him, grateful and a little shy, and nanami’s jaw tightens. he is forty, a divorced but settled, a man who likes order and quiet and routines that do not include getting half-hard at the sight of his much younger neighbor’s collarbones. yet here he is, eyes dragging down the line of your neck before he forces them back up.
“thank you so much for coming,” you say, stepping aside to let him in. your voice is warm, a little breathy from the relief of not having to deal with it alone. the apartment smells faintly of vanilla and whatever takeout you had for dinner.
nanami nods once, polite as always, and follows you toward the corner where the router sits on a low shelf. he can feel the weight of his own body, the clean but lived-in scent of his white button-up clinging slightly to his skin after a long day, black jeans sitting snug on his hips. he is musty in that grown-man way, soap and faint cologne mixed with the faint trace of office air and the walk over, nothing overpowering but undeniably male. he knows it. he hopes you do not notice how it fills the small space between you.
you hover close while he crouches down to look at the router, your thigh brushing his shoulder as you point at the blinking lights. “it just stopped working out of nowhere. i tried restarting it but…” your words trail off when he glances up.
his eyes catch on the way your t-shirt hangs loose, the soft swell of your tits visible at the neckline, the smooth skin of your legs right there at eye level. he should look away yet nanami does not. instead his gaze lingers, slow and heavy, tracing the curve of your hip, the way the hem of those shorts digs into the flesh of your thigh. he feels his cock twitch in his jeans, thickening against the zipper before he can stop it.
fuck.
he shifts his weight, trying to hide the growing bulge, but the movement only makes the fabric pull tighter.
“let me see,” he mutters, voice lower than he intends, rough around the edges. his fingers work the cables, checking connections, but his mind is not on the router. it is on you. on how you smell like warm skin and faint lotion, on how you keep biting your lip while you watch him, on how easily he could reach out and slide his palm up the back of your thigh.
he has been trying to ignore it for weeks. it takes him back to the way you wave at him from your balcony in the mornings, the sound of your laugh carrying through the thin walls when you are on the phone with friends, the soft thump of your music when you cook.
every little thing has been chipping away at his carefully built restraint. he is older. he should know better. but his body does not care about should.
he stands up slowly, taller than you by a good amount, and when he does his chest brushes your shoulder. you do not step back and the air between you feels thick, charged, and nanami’s eyes drop again, this time to your mouth, then lower to where your nipples have tightened under the thin shirt.
he swallows hard. his cock is fully hard now, pressing insistently against the front of his black jeans, the outline obvious if you were to look down. he turns slightly, pretending to fiddle with the router settings on his phone, but the movement only highlights the bulge.
he can feel the heat of it, the way it throbs when you lean in closer to see what he is doing, your breath ghosting over his forearm.
“is it the cable?” you ask, voice quieter now, like you have noticed the shift too. your eyes flick to his face, then down, then back up, and nanami sees the faint flush creeping up your neck. good. at least he is not suffering alone. he clears his throat, forcing his attention back to the device, but his free hand flexes at his side, knuckles whitening. he wants to touch you. wants to back you against the wall and slide those tiny shorts down your legs, wants to feel how wet you already are because he can smell it, that sweet faint arousal mixing with your usual scent.
his mind supplies the image without permission: you bent over the couch, his cock buried deep while he grips your hips and fucks the whimpers out of you. he exhales sharply through his nose.
“try it now,” he says, stepping back just enough to give you space, but not enough to hide anything. the router lights flicker green. you pull out your phone to test the connection and let out a small happy sound that goes straight to his dick.
“it works! oh my god, thank you, nanami-san.” you turn to him fully, eyes bright, and for a second he lets himself look. really look. at the way your chest rises with each breath, at the bare stretch of thigh, at how your lips part when you realize he is staring.
he does not smile. his expression stays bland, almost stern, but his eyes are dark and hungry, eye-fucking you so openly now that there is no pretending. his cock strains harder against the denim, a small wet spot forming where he is leaking, and he makes no move to hide it.
he is half heartedly relieved you do not notice. your gaze still stuck on your phone screen, lashes fluttering, and when you look back up, you read there is something new in his expression, something needy and waiting to be unleashed.
nanami’s voice comes out rougher than he means. “you should get a better router. this one is outdated.” it is the most neutral thing he can think of, but it does not matter.
the tension is already there, thick and undeniable, wrapping around both of you in the half-unpacked living room. he can feel his pulse in his cock, the heavy ache of it, the way his balls feel tight just from standing this close to you. he wants to hate how easily you affect him.
he does hate it. but he cannot stop the slow drag of his eyes over your body one more time, imagining exactly how you would look spread open on his bed, taking every inch while he tells you how long he has been fighting this.
you shift on your feet, thighs pressing together, and nanami catches the tiny movement. his jaw clenches. he should leave. he should say goodnight and go back to his quiet apartment and jerk off to the memory like he has done more nights than he cares to admit.
your heartbeat picks up its rate, your finger tips sweaty. you feel the air thickening already, noticing the print of your neighbors dick without even looking down.
“so maybe you could stay and i could make you some te–” your proposal is short lived.
“i’ve fixed what you’ve called me to help for. goodnight.” his stern voice catches you off guard, watching him collect and grab the toolbox on the floor that was forgotten seconds ago. you try to say something but stay frozen when he pushes past you, his neck veins slightly showing on his skin.
nanami strides out fast. because right now, with his cock hard and obvious and his control fraying at the edges, he is not sure he has the strength to stay in the same room with you.
and so he leaves you standing in the middle of your apartment with your wifi fixed and a pile of notifications ‘ding-ing’ every seconds.
+
a week drags by in thick, unspoken tension that sits heavy between the thin apartment walls like smoke that refuses to clear.
nanami wakes each morning with the same stern resolution burning behind his eyes: keep the distance, lock it down, pretend the night you called him over for the router never happened. he leaves for the office before the sun fully rises, comes home long after the hallway lights have dimmed, and when he passes your door he keeps his gaze fixed on the scuffed floorboards like they hold the answers to every moral question he has been asking himself since he first felt that inconvenient throb in his jeans. but the memory refuses to fade.
it lingers in the shower when hot water runs down his chest and his hand wraps around his cock without permission, stroking slow and frustrated while your freshly known name slips out between gritted teeth like a confession he wishes he could swallow back.
it follows him into bed at night, where he lies stiff on his back and remembers the exact shade of flush that crept up your neck when his eyes dragged too long over your body.
he hates it. hates how easily a girl barely out of her early twenties can unravel the careful, quiet life he has built for himself. he is older, disciplined, a man who values order and restraint above almost everything, yet here he is, reduced to stolen glances through the balcony railing and late-night strokes that leave him emptier than before.
you do not make any of it easier. you still wave at him from across the narrow gap between your balconies in the mornings, soft smile curving your lips like you know exactly what you are doing to him. you leave polite little notes taped to his door about shared packages or the new recycling bins downstairs, your handwriting neat and looping in a way that makes his fingers tighten around the paper every time.
each accidental brush of your fingers when you hand him mail in the hallway sends a spark straight down his spine, and every polite “good morning, nanami-san” you offer chips away at the walls he keeps trying to reinforce. he catches the sound of your laugh through the thin wall sometimes when you are on the phone with people… your age, light and warm, and his cock thickens in his slacks before he can stop it.
he tells himself it is nothing. just proximity. just the natural reaction of a man who has been alone too long. but deep down he knows the truth: you have gotten under his skin, and the more he tries to push it away the harder it pulls.
tonight the last thread of his restraint finally frays and snaps.
the familiar knock comes at exactly the time he wishes it to, soft but insistent, cutting through the quiet of his evening like a hook sinking into flesh.
nanami opens the door still dressed from the office, white button-up with the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, black jeans sitting low on his hips, the faint musty-clean scent of him drifting out into the hallway, clean and faint cologne and the long day clinging to his skin.
you stand there in another oversized t-shirt that slips off one shoulder and those same tiny sleep shorts that have been haunting him, hair not perfect like you had been caught up in something… private, cheeks already carrying that telltale pink flush. it’s as if last week was repeating itself.
“the router again,” you say, voice small and breathy, but your eyes are not on any imaginary problem. they trace the open collar of his shirt, the broad line of his shoulders, the way his chest fills the doorway. “it keeps dropping signal. i tried everything you showed me last time but… i think i need your help again.”
he should tell you no. should suggest you call the building manager in the morning this time and close the door before the air between you thickens any further. instead he exhales slowly through his nose, jaw tight, and reaches for the small toolbox he keeps by the door without saying a word.
he follows you next door, the faint click of the lock behind him sounding louder than it should. the moment you are both inside the living room the atmosphere shifts, warmer and heavier, like the space itself is holding its breath. you lead him to the same corner shelf where the router sits, but this time you do not hover at a polite distance.
you stand close enough that your bare arm brushes his rough skin when he crouches down to look. the lights on the router are steady green. he knows it is working fine the second he glances at it. and most definitely you know it.
the excuse is paper-thin and neither of you bothers to pretend otherwise.
nanami rises slowly, turning to face you fully, his tall frame casting a shadow over you in the soft lamplight. his eyes do the same slow, solemn drag they did the week before, only heavier now, sharpened by seven long days of fighting the memory of your body.
he watches the way your nipples have already tightened under the thin fabric of your shirt, the subtle press of your thighs together like the ache between them is already building. his cock responds immediately, swelling thick and heavy inside his black jeans, the thick ridge becoming obvious as it presses against the denim. he’s sure a faint damp spot is beginning to form, but he does not try to hide it this time. he lets you see. lets the weight of his stare settle on you like a touch.
“the router is working fine,” he says, voice low and rough, carrying that same stern tone he always uses, like he is delivering a verdict in court rather than standing in your living room with a hard-on he cannot will away. “you know that as well as i do. why did you really call me over here?”
you swallow visibly, eyes flicking down to the clear outline of his cock straining against his jeans before rising back to his face.
your chest rises and falls with a heavier breath, lips parting slightly, but instead of answering you take one slow step back. then another. your hands move to the waistband of your sleep shorts, fingers hooking under the fabric, and you bend forward just enough to slide them down your legs in one smooth motion.
the shorts pool at your ankles and you step out of them, leaving you in nothing but a pair of grey lace panties with delicate pink ribbons threaded along the edges. the soft fabric clings to the curve of your pussy, the faint outline of your folds visible through the thin material, and nanami’s right leg twitches involuntarily, his cock jerking hard inside his jeans at the sight.
his brows draw together in a quick pretend of frown, serious expression tightening. “what are you doing?” he asks, voice dropping even lower, a clear warning threaded through the words. but you do not stop. your fingers catch the hem of your oversized t-shirt next, lifting it slowly, inch by inch, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the delicate dip of your waist, the underside of your breasts.
you pull the shirt up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor beside the shorts, and now you stand there in only the grey lace panties, tits bare, nipples stiff in the cool air of the room. nanami’s breath catches, his hands flexing hard at his sides, the long fingers curling into fists as he fights the urge to reach for you.
he says your name then, low and rough, the syllables heavy with warning. “don’t.” but you only smile, small and soft and knowing, and continue. your thumbs hook into the waistband of the panties, sliding them down your hips with agonizing slowness, the lace catching briefly on the swell of your ass before you let them fall.
you step out of them completely, now fully naked in front of him, skin flushed warm under his heavy gaze. you walk toward him, bare feet quiet on the floor, hips swaying just enough to make your tits move softly with each step. when you are close enough that he can feel the heat radiating from your body, when his mouth opens to speak again, you lift one finger and press it gently to his lips, shushing him.
nanami lets out a small, broken sound, half whimper, half groan, the noise slipping out before he can stop it. his cock throbs visibly in his jeans, another bead of pre-cum soaking into the fabric as the tension coils tighter in the narrow space between your bodies.
he exhales shakily against your finger, eyes dark and conflicted, thick needy lines deepening on his face. “you’re a very young girl…” he trails off, voice rough and strained, the words carrying the weight of every reason he has been telling himself to stay away.
you pull your finger back just enough to speak, voice soft but steady. “i’m legal.”
“barely,” he counters immediately, the word clipped, his gaze dropping despite himself to the bare curve of your breasts, it taught him to squeeze on them and make you feel good, the soft swell of your hips, the smooth skin between your thighs where he can already see the faint shine of arousal. “you’re barely twenty-something. i’m more than twice your age. this… this is not appropriate.”
you tilt your head slightly, still standing naked and unashamed in front of him, the tension so thick it feels like the air itself has weight. “and yet you’re standing here with your cock so hard i can see it twitching through your jeans,” you murmur, eyes flicking down pointedly to the obvious bulge. “you’ve been avoiding me all week, nanami-san, but you still came over the second i knocked. tell me again how inappropriate this is.”
caught him red handed. fuck you.
he lets out another low groan, the sound vibrating in his chest, his hand coming up like he might push you away but instead hovering just above your waist, fingers trembling with restraint. “you have no idea what you’re asking for,” he says, voice quieter now, almost pained. “i’m not some young man who can just… give in without consequences. you deserve better than an older neighbor who can’t keep his eyes off you.”
the banter stretches, slow and heavy, every word laced with the electric pull between you. you step even closer, your bare breasts brushing the front of his white shirt, nipples dragging against the fabric, and nanami’s breath hitches sharply. “then why does it feel like you’ve been thinking about this as much as i have?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “why do you look at me like you want to bend me over every time we pass in the hall?”
his jaw clenches, the muscle ticking visibly, but his eyes stay locked on yours even as his cock continues to throb between you.
“because i do,” he admits finally, the words dragged out like they cost him something. “i want to. more than i should. but you’re young. barely out of college. and i’m… this.” he gestures vaguely at himself, the musty yet cleaned scent of his body stronger now with the heat rising off his skin, the faint sweat dampening the collar of his shirt. “a tired man who should know better.”
you smile again, softer this time, and reach up to trace one finger along the line of his jaw. “then stop fighting it for one night,” you whisper. “just let yourself have me. i want you, nanami. i’ve wanted you since the first time you fixed my router and looked at me like you were starving.”
the silence stretches again, thick and humming with tension, his breath coming heavier now, chest rising and falling against yours. his hand finally settles on your waist, large palm warm and slightly rough against your bare skin, thumb stroking once, slow and deliberate.
he does not pull you closer yet, but he does not push you away either. the battle is still there in his eyes, solemn and conflicted, but the hunger is winning, inch by aching inch, as the minutes tick by in the quiet room and his cock continues to strain painfully against his jeans, waiting for the moment his restraint finally gives out completely.
nanami’s hand tightens on your waist, fingers spanning wide enough to nearly wrap around the curve of it, and the last of his resistance crumbles like dry paper under the heat of your bare skin against his palm.
he exhales once, long and shaky, eyes still calculated but dark now with the kind of hunger he has been trying to bury for weeks, and then he is moving, guiding you backward until the backs of your knees hit the couch and you sink down onto the cushions. he follows without a word, dropping to his knees between your spread thighs like a man who has finally stopped pretending he can walk away.
his broad shoulders push your legs wider, the white button-up stretching tight across his chest as he leans in, breath hot against the inside of your thigh. he looks up at you one last time, jaw set, like he is giving you one final chance to tell him no, but you only slide your fingers into his neatly combed hair and tug him closer. that is all it takes.
his mouth finds your pussy like he has been starving for it, lips parting to drag a slow, broad stripe up your folds, tongue flat and heavy as he tastes you properly for the first time. the groan that vibrates out of his chest is low and rough, almost pained, because you are already soaked, slick coating his tongue in a way that makes his cock jerk hard inside his jeans.
he licks again, slower this time, savoring the way your thighs tremble on either side of his head, then seals his mouth around your clit and sucks gently, tongue flicking in tight little circles that have your back arching off the couch. one of his huge hands slides up your stomach, palm pressing flat just below your navel, and he pushes down with just enough pressure to make your pussy clench around nothing.
the size of his hand there is obscene, fingers spread wide so his pinky rests near the base of your ribs and his thumb brushes the top of your mound, the sheer scale of him against your smaller frame making everything feel tighter, hotter, more overwhelming.
nanami eats you out like he has all night and nothing else matters, tongue sliding deep between your folds before circling back up to your clit, sucking and licking in a rhythm that builds slow and relentless. his free hand grips your thigh, spreading you even wider, thumb digging into the soft flesh while he buries his face deeper, nose pressing against your mound as he drinks down every drop of you. the wet sounds fill the quiet room, wet and loud, his groans mixing with the slick slide of his tongue and the shaky breaths you keep letting out.
he keeps that steady pressure on your lower belly the whole time, palm rubbing slow circles that make your insides twist and flutter, the tummy bullying so deliberate it feels like he is trying to feel exactly where his mouth is working from the inside. your hips twitch, trying to ride his face, but he holds you down with that big hand, keeping you exactly where he wants you while he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
when you come it hits hard and sudden, pussy pulsing against his tongue as your thighs clamp around his head and a broken moan spills out of you. nanami does not stop. he keeps licking you through it, slower now but just as thorough, tongue dragging over your oversensitive clit until your whole body jerks and you try to squirm away from the intensity.
he only presses his palm firmer against your stomach, holding you in place, the slight overstimulation making your eyes water and your voice crack on his name. “nanami…plea– fuck, it’s too much,” you whimper, but he just hums against you, the vibration sending another sharp spark through your core, and slides two thick fingers into your still-clenching pussy without warning. they stretch you wide, the size of them so much bigger than your own that you feel every knuckle, every ridge, as he curls them deep and starts pumping slow and steady.
he lifts his head just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside you, eyes dark and tempting, lips shiny with your slick. “look at how well you take them,” he murmurs, voice gravel-rough, the praise low and almost reverent as he presses down on your belly again with his other hand, feeling the way his fingers create a very faint bulge against your walls from the outside.
the pressure makes everything tighter, more intense, and you clench hard around him, another wave of overstimulation crashing through you while he keeps fingering you through the aftershocks. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles that have you shaking, the combination of his thick fingers stretching you open and the firm press on your tummy turning every breath into a broken little sob.
he does not rush. he just keeps working you, long fingers dragging along that perfect spot inside while his palm rubs steady circles on your stomach, bullying that soft lower belly until you are dripping down his wrist and whimpering his name like it will make it better than it already is.
only when your thighs are trembling uncontrollably and your pussy is fluttering helplessly around his fingers does he finally ease up, sliding them out slow and careful, bringing them to his mouth to lick clean with a low groan that makes your stomach flip.
he stays on his knees between your legs for a long moment, forehead resting against your thigh, breathing hard while his cock strains painfully against his jeans, the front of the fabric dark with pre-cum. when he finally looks up at you his eyes are still determined, still carrying that quiet conflict, but the hunger has won completely now, and the way he stares at your flushed, marked body makes it clear he is nowhere near done with you tonight.
nanami stays on his knees between your spread thighs for another long, heavy breath, forehead pressed to the soft skin just above your knee while his chest rises and falls like he is trying to steady something inside himself that already broke minutes ago. his fingers are still shiny with you, the faint scent of his skin mixed with the sharp sweetness of your pussy hanging thick in the air.
when he finally moves it is slow and deliberate, like every motion costs him something. he rises to his full height, towering over you on the couch, white button-up wrinkled and damp at the collar from the heat rolling off both of you. his hands, large and steady, slide under your thighs and around your back in one smooth motion, scooping you up off the cushions like you weigh nothing at all.
your legs wrap around his slim waist on instinct, heels digging into the firm muscle of his lower back, and the sudden shift leaves you gasping against his shoulder because he lifts you so easily, strong arms locking you against his chest while your bare pussy hovers right above the heavy bulge still trapped in his jeans.
he does not give you time to look down. one arm stays banded tight under your ass, holding your weight like it is effortless, while his free hand works between your bodies to unbuckle his belt with a quiet metallic clink. the zipper follows, the sound loud in the quiet room, and he shoves both jeans and briefs down just enough to free himself.
you feel the thick, heavy length spring up against your inner thigh, hot and velvet-smooth, the blunt mushroom head already slick and leaking. before you can even tilt your head to catch a glimpse he shifts you higher in his arms, pressing your back against the nearest wall for leverage, and uses that same free hand to guide the fat head of his cock right to your dripping entrance.
the broad tip nudges through your folds, rubbing slow and deliberate, coating himself in your slick while he watches your face with those solemn dark eyes, brows knitted tight like he is still fighting the last scraps of restraint.
“breathe,” he mutters, voice low and rough, the single word almost gentle even as his hips tilt forward. he helps you sink down, one thick inch at a time, the stretch burning so good it makes your jaw go slack and your eyes flutter half-shut.
he is big, thicker than anything you have taken, the veined shaft dragging along your walls as he lowers you steadily until your ass meets his hips and he is buried to the hilt. a quiet groan tears from his throat when he bottoms out, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours, and for a long second he just holds you there, letting you feel every inch of him pulsing deep inside your smaller body.
you’re pressed and folded in an awkward position, and it only makes the size difference feel more obscene, your soft curves dwarfed by his tall, solid frame.
nanami does not wait long. his hands grip your ass harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and he starts to move, lifting you up and dropping you back down onto his cock with controlled, powerful strokes that hammer into you deep enough to punch the air from your lungs. each thrust makes your whole body jolt in his arms, tits bouncing under nothing. bare and free for him to watch, back sliding against the wall while he fucks up into you like he has been imagining it for weeks.
his height towers over you completely, shoulders broad enough to block out the room, white shirt straining across his chest with every roll of his hips.
the mushroom head of his cock drags perfectly along that spot inside you on every downstroke, the sheer size of him making your belly bulge slightly every time he bottoms out, a faint outline visible under your skin if you looked down, but he keeps your face buried against his neck so you cannot.
he keeps that steady, punishing rhythm, hips snapping up hard while his arms hold you suspended like you are weightless, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing louder with every thrust. sweat beads along his hairline, dampening the collar of his shirt, and his breath comes in hot, measured pants against your ear.
“too big for you?” he asks, voice strained but still carrying that solemn edge, even as he grinds deep and holds you there for a heartbeat, letting you feel how completely he fills you.
your only answer is a broken moan and loled nod, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt, legs tightening around his waist as another wave of overstimulation starts building fast. he does not slow down. he just keeps lifting and dropping you onto every thick inch, eyebrows still knitted in concentration, eyes flicking between your slack mouth and the way your body takes him so greedily.
his shirt keeps getting in the way, bunching up between both of you, so he shifts his grip, one hand sliding up to yank the fabric higher until it is completely off of him, exposing his sweaty chest completely to the cool air and your half-focused stare.
now there is nothing between you but sweat-slick skin and the relentless drag of his cock stretching you open. he leans in, mouth finding your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin while he hammers into you harder, the angle shifting so the head of his cock bullies that perfect spot with every upward thrust. your smaller frame jolts in his arms with each powerful stroke, pussy clenching tight around the thick length splitting you apart, and nanami groans low and deep, the sound rumbling through his chest as he feels you start to flutter around him again.
he keeps you pinned against the wall like that, towering over you, strong arms never tiring as he fucks you deep and steady, the size difference so stark it makes your head spin. every time he bottoms out his hips grind against your clit, the pressure on your lower belly from the inside making everything feel tighter, fuller, more overwhelming.
you are already close again, thighs shaking around his waist, voice cracking on his name, and nanami just holds you there, determined eyes locked on your face while he drives you closer to the edge with every heavy thrust, determined to feel you come around his cock before he lets himself follow.
nanami’s rhythm starts to falter just a little, hips snapping up with shorter, more desperate strokes while his breath comes hot and ragged against the side of your neck. he can feel it building fast, that tight coil low in his gut, his heavy balls drawing up tight and aching as your pussy flutters and squeezes around every thick inch of him.
but he refuses to let go first. he is older, more controlled, and right now that control means making sure you fall apart completely before he does.
with a low grunt he shifts his grip, one big hand sliding under your ass to tilt your hips forward while the other presses flat against your lower back, forcing your spine into a deep arch that pushes your pelvis out and opens you up even more obscenely. the new angle is nasty, almost cruel, your body folded and suspended in his arms so your clit grinds hard against the base of his cock on every upward thrust and the fat head of him drags directly into that spongy spot inside you at a brutal upward curve.
your legs dangle wider, heels kicking uselessly against his lower back, the sheer size difference making you feel like you are being split open and rearranged from the inside while he holds you like a toy.
he starts hammering into you with that filthy new angle, cock bullying that spot over and over until your eyes roll back and broken sobs start spilling from your slack mouth.
the overstimulation crashes in hard and fast, your already sensitive pussy clenching and spasming around him while tears prick at the corners of your eyes and start to slip down your flushed cheeks.
your hand flies down between your bodies on instinct, palm pushing weakly at his lower stomach like you can stop the relentless drag of his cock, fingers scrabbling against the damp fabric of his white shirt. nanami’s eyes narrow, jaw tightening, and he leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he hisses the words low and dark, “do that again and i’ll fucking hurt you good.”
the threat hits you like a live wire. your whole body seizes, a choked cry tearing from your throat, and then you are squirting hard around his cock, hot fluid gushing out in messy pulses that soak his jeans, drip down his balls, and splatter onto the floor beneath you.
nanami groans deep and filthy at the feeling, the wet heat flooding around him making his cock twitch violently inside you. he does not slow down. if anything he fucks you harder, hips snapping up with wet, punishing slaps while his free hand slides between your bodies and starts tracing tight, relentless infinity signs over your swollen clit with two thick fingers. the pressure is mean and perfect, circling and dragging in that figure-eight pattern while he keeps pounding into that nasty folded angle, cock bullying your g-spot and his fingers never letting up on your overstimulated clit.
“i know, baby, i know,” he rasps against your ear, voice hoarse and strained, the words almost soothing even as he wrecks you. “you can take it. just let it happen.” your legs shake violently around his waist, tears streaming freely now, little hiccuping sobs mixing with the wet squelch of your pussy taking every brutal thrust.
nanami keeps that freaky rhythm going, hips rolling deep, fingers drawing those endless infinity loops over your clit until your vision whites out and another shattering orgasm rips through you, pussy clamping down so hard it almost forces him out. he hisses through his teeth, sweat dripping from his brow onto your chest, but he powers through it, fucking you straight through the peak and into the trembling aftershocks.
his own control finally snaps. his balls tighten almost painfully, cock swelling even thicker inside your fluttering walls as he buries himself to the hilt one last time, grinding deep while thick, hot ropes of cum flood you. he comes with a low, broken groan that vibrates through his chest, pulsing hard and endless, filling you so full that it starts leaking out around his cock in creamy white streaks every time he gives one last shallow thrust.
the mess is everywhere, your squirt and his cum dripping down your thighs, soaking the front of his jeans and pooling on the floor, the obscene wet sounds slowly fading as he keeps you pinned against the wall, still buried deep, both of you heaving for air.
nanami’s forehead drops to your shoulder, breathing hard, the last energy well spent, showing of with both of your sweat-soaked body mixing with the sharp smell of sex filling the room. his arms stay locked around you, holding your smaller frame effortlessly even as his cock twitches with the last weak spurts inside you.
for a long moment the only sounds are your shaky sobs and his ragged breathing, bodies trembling together in the aftermath, messy and spent and still connected. he does not pull out yet. he just keeps you there, suspended in his arms, the quiet weight of everything that just happened settling heavy between you while his cum continues to leak slowly out around where he is still buried deep.
nanami stays buried inside you for what feels like forever, thick cock still twitching with the last lazy pulses while warm cum slowly leaks out around where your bodies are joined, dripping down your thighs and onto the floor in messy little trails.
your legs are still wrapped around his waist, trembling, heels digging weakly into his lower back like you cannot quite let go yet, and he keeps holding you up without any effort, strong arms locked under your ass, keeping your smaller frame suspended against the wall like it is the most natural thing in the world. your shaky little sobs eventually quiet into soft, hiccuping breaths, tears drying on your cheeks, but the overstimulation still makes your pussy flutter weakly around him every few seconds, milking out another thin trickle of his cum.
finally he shifts, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he carefully pulls out, the wet sound loud and obscene in the quiet room.
a thick glob of his cum follows immediately, sliding out of your swollen, puffy pussy and running down to join the mess already pooled beneath you. he lowers you gently until your feet touch the floor, but your legs are too shaky to hold you, so he keeps one arm banded around your waist, steadying you against his chest while his other hand tucks himself back into his briefs and jeans with a quiet zip.
the white button-up is wrinkled and damp with sweat when he puts it back on, black jeans dark at the front from your squirt, but he still looks put-together in that quiet, solemn way of his, even now.
he does not say anything at first. just looks down at you with those dark, heavy eyes, thumb brushing slow circles on your bare hip like he cannot quite stop touching you. then he exhales, long and tired, and rests his forehead against yours for a brief second.
“this…” his voice comes out rough, low, almost reluctant. “this can’t happen again.”
the words hang between you, simple and final, even as his hand lingers on your skin and his cum continues to drip slowly down the inside of your thigh.
he presses one last, almost gentle kiss to your temple, the kind of kiss that feels heavier than any promise, before he steps back. his fingers flex once at his sides like he is fighting the urge to pull you close again, then he turns toward the door, shoulders straight, footsteps quiet on the floor.
“get some rest,” he murmurs without looking back, the manly scent of him still clinging to your skin. “and… call the building manager about the router next time.”
the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you standing there naked and trembling in the middle of your living room, thighs sticky, pussy aching and full of him, the quiet weight of what just happened settling deep in your chest. you know he means it. you also know, deep down, that neither of you really believes it.
well y’all i had to claw my nails onto a wall to storm this idea so it better do good or you’re not hearing from me again.. (i’m literally posting in few hours again 😛)
fratboy!nanami who constantly gets overlooked by his frat brothers. so, he fucks the girl everyone wants to prove he's more than just a square ˙⋆✮ smut, exobitionism (?)
fratboy!nanami was, for lack of better terms, a stickler. there was a reason he was the vice president of phi delta theta after all. he was astute, well mannered, harsh when needed, and overall a very well put together man. but, vicing a rowdy president like gojo left little time to himself where he wasn’t cleaning up a mess satoru had made.
as a result, the blonde had little to no time to fully engage in the... college experience.
kento wasn’t bothered by this fact, to be honest, he liked the work that came with the frat. he was well respected, had a purpose, and had a certain amount of control in his environment, exactly how he liked it.
but, on nights where his brothers would get on the piss and become a little too bold, the incessant teasing would begin.
toji had kicked it off this time, “ken, when th’ fuck are you gonna get laid?” the inquiry caused an onslaught of laughter and consistent goading.
“yeah, maybe some pussy’d help with that stick up yr’ ass,” sukuna huffed out, taking a hit of the cone circling round’ the room.
“leave him aloneee,” gojo added on, flopping down onto the couch and swinging an arm over nanami’s bulky shoulders, “let the poor man be celibate, he’s got other shit to worry about.”
“yeah? like all the fuck-ups you cause for everyone else when you’re on one of your little power trips?” suguru piped up.
“shut up.” the blue-eyed freak spat back.
nanami would just roll those pretty hazel eyes and take a swig of his drink, telling them all to fuck off before ignoring any further digs.
he wasn’t a virgin or anything, like i said, he was just busy. he’d had a fair few girls before he sold his soul to the house, it’d just been a while! that’s all. he told himself he didn’t give a shit, but then the boys did it again. and again, and again, and again.
after around the sixth time, the man had enough.
he was gonna get laid alright, and he was gonna leave a lasting impression on all of his fuckwit friends.
kento had the perfect plan cooking up in his head. out of everyone on campus, he knew there was only one person he could ask to carry said plan out with, and that was you.
you were very well known among the frats. not for being a notorious slut or anything, no way, the complete opposite actually. you were hot shit, on track for an equitable future, the embodiment of look but don’t touch, a certified man-hating pillar. you never gave any guy the time of day, always choosing to hang with your friends at parties rather than give a male the satisfaction of your company.
you had one exception, though. and that was nanami.
he was your partner in one of your classes last year and he treated you with nothing less than respect. not once did he try to flirt or play around like most guys did, he just kept his head down, made normal conversation, and used his manners.
god, why couldn’t all guys be like nanami?
it wasn't much of a secret that you’d formed a little crush on the man, and if you weren’t mistaken, you’d say he liked you too after all the flirty conversation you’d exchanged since the project. but then again, the whole 'busy' thing. a little annoying that the first guy you’d had a proper crush on was always too busy being big and important at his frat, but you could deal with it.
nanami was worth it.
anyway, long story short, he was the only guy who had the privilege of being in your contact list on campus, and that warranted a lot of back-and-forth conversation.
nanami smiled at the last chat you’d had about hating gojo, then sent the message that would start everything off.
kento [7:38pm] evening, [name]. i hope you’re doing well.
kento [7:38pm] i was wondering if we could meet up and talk sometime soon?
you [7:42pm] kento!
you [7:42pm] hiii :)
you [7:42pm] ofc, tell me when and where and i’m there
kento [7:45pm] perfect, does right now and my room sound okay? i’m sorry, i know it’s such short notice.
you [7:45pm] mhmmm that’s fine
you [7:45pm] omw!
now it wasn’t like kento was using you, no chance in hell. this wasn’t a one-sided scheme, he too had had a crush on you for quite some time and he knew you liked him as well. in fact, the two of you had frequently spoken about how your joint lack of sex weighed heavier on the both of you than you’d liked to admit.
“y’know, ken. if you ever wanted to indulge, i'd be happy to help.”
“how generous, most men would kill to hear you say that,”
“what can i say, you’re pretty special to me.”
“we’ll see, angel.”
well, this was him seeing.
~
“ken, y’ in there?” nanami heard drift from the other side of his door, followed by three short knocks.
he instantly shot up, straightened out his shirt, then strolled up and opened his heavy wooden door.
“evening, glad you could make it.” he smiles softly, taking all of you in with lidded eyes.
“anything for you.” you teased half heartedly, oblivious to the effect that little quirk had on his now throbbing cock.
he closes the door behind you, then ushers you to sit beside him on his bed.
“well, don’t you look lovely. i hope the guys didn’t give you too much trouble on the way up here? i should have met you downstairs, my bad.”
taking a loose thread from your shirt and twirling it around your finger, you smile and reply fondly. “they weren’t too bad. just told them we needed to study and they left me alone. and it’s no issue, i was the early one.”
nanami smiled at your unusually formal reply. very different from your regular laid back demeanour, he could tell you were a little nervous.
“you’re probably wondering why i asked you over so late?”
“mhm, what's that about? y' need something?”
yeah, you.
he shook his head and turned to face you completely. “you remember that talk we had last summer? how we chatted about—”
“—about our sex lives? or... lack thereof.”
he's taken aback at how readily that slipped from your lips, like you were just waiting for this to come up.
“yes, well... exactly.” he clears his throat and curls his pointer finger around your pinky that lays rested against his bed sheets, sending a flush of heat to both your face and lower stomach.
“now, what i'm about to ask is going to sound terribly douchey, but i'd like if you were to hear me out...” he looks up at you to see you nodding along with an intrigued little glint behind your eyes. “the guy’s have been especially irritating as of late about how little action i get, and it’s getting on my nerves.”
he sighs in pure embarrassment from how horrible this was about to come off, “i was wondering if you’d be open to—”
“yes!”
nanami looks a little shocked at how you cut him off once again, staring at you with an air of surprise.
“i mean, yes.” you say a tad calmer. “yes, i wanna do it, with you... now.”
the once stoic man finds it hard to suppress his enjoyment and lets go of a soft laugh.
“eager, i see.”
“you could say that.”
well, that was easy.
“so, you don’t mind if i...” his hand slips up your arm, pulling you closer to his body with a low, sly smirk. seeing him in this light did nothing to aid the coil tightening in the pit of your stomach, and you nod feverishly.
“please...”
the reaction is instant, he leans in and gently takes your lips in a deep, slow kiss. nanami allows you to set the speed, starting out nice and slow, but for you that wasn't enough, you’d spent too long needing this man for this to be anything but fast-paced and passionate.
you bite at his bottom lip as you slip into his lap, earning a guttural moan deep from the man’s throat. both his thick thighs and iron grip on your waist made for a nice seat as you begin to rock your hips back and forth against his hard, clothed cock. your tongues dance together as he keeps one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your head, guiding your face towards him as he desperately deepens the kiss.
you pull away for air then drag your hand up his shirt, feeling his firm chest and solid stomach. “you’re built...”
“surprised?” he quirks a brow, running his hands up and down your sides purposefully.
“guess not... i wanna see.” you gently tug the bottom of the shirt then reach for the hem and pull it over his head. rippling abs and lines of thick muscles come into view, and you hold your breath in astonishment at the sheer amount of muscle mass. you’re completely awestruck at his build, his reddening chest rising and falling heavily as he struggles against his arousal. his entire torso was covered in a light sheen of sweat and his abs twitch as you follow the center crevice down.
“you’re so hot, my god...” you breathe, any other guy would solicit no more than an impressed nod. but nanami? his ego deserved to be stroked.
“thank you, angel.” he grins. “now let’s get these off.” he slips one hand beneath the waistband of your shorts, tugging you higher on his lap with the other arm to create enough room for him to yank them off. with one less layer of fabric, the pressure of his dick now felt all but too much to handle as he continued to explore your mouth with his tongue. your previous grinding movements started to slow from the new intensity, you were scared you’d finish right then if you were to keep going. but just then, nanami pulls away for a second, his hands now on your hips as he manually begins to pull you down harder.
“keep grinding, baby. you can do it.”
he's acting all smooth and suave, but deep down? he’s beside himself that he managed to capture your attention. out of all the men thirsting over you, you’d chosen him. he wasn’t particularly flashy or especially funny, yet you’d decided to entertain him when so many others would kill to be in his position.
by now you’re letting the filthiest of sounds pour from your lips into his open mouth as your clothed clit bumps against his concealed cock over and over again. you try your best to conceal your sounds, but he pulls back to tease you a little, his cheeks flushed red as he smiles. “don’t hide those pretty whines, baby. i want them to hear.”
he then hoists you up, flips you over, and climbs over you, pinning your arms over your head as he overtakes your lips. as he grinds, you free a hand, but he catches it and guides it to the front of his jeans, placing your fingers against his fastened belt. “go on, sweetheart.”
between breathless kisses you undo the leather and slide it out and onto the floor. you take your time teasing and unzipping his jeans and he moans lowly when your hand curls around his semi-freed cock, gently smoothing over his boxers.
“fuck, that feels s’ good.” he slurs, latching onto your neck and rocking his hips up and into the palm of your hand.
you bite your lip as he begins to litter hickeys over your neck, you slip your fingers into his underwear and cup your hand over the shaft, stroking up and down before pressing your thumb into his dripping tip. he whimpered against your lips, cock twitching and hips jerking uncontrollably.
he makes sure to make a show of it. there was no movie playing downstairs, nor were the speakers blasting bad rap, so the house was perfectly in order to be subjected to both his, and your thirsty sounds.
he'd make sure every one of those assholes could get a good idea of just how much he could get if he really wanted.
nanami grabs your wrist, panting heavily. leaning his head against your shoulder, he places soft kisses on your neck, working up to your ear before tugging your shirt off along with your pretty, red, lacy bra.
fuck, he’d never been harder than he was right now, you really had it over him.
“a matching set, hm? you hoped tonight would end up like this?”
you flush, embarrassed that he’d caught on to your presumption of this happening. “a little...”
“what a naughty thing.” he laughs. “i’ll show you just how thankful i am to you, baby. you deserve to be treated like an angel.” he unclips the bra, then cups one of your breasts and squeezes gently, huffing out an appreciative sigh as he dips down to take the nipple into his mouth.
“fuck—!” you whine, your own hips jerking and grinding up into nothing at the delicious sensation.
he rolls the soft bud between his teeth softly, then two thick fingers trail down your stomach and into your panties, tugging them off before rubbing your clit in circular movements, dj-ing the bundle of nerves until you’re whining and writhing beneath him like a woman possessed.
“ken—! fuck, i can’t, i can’t! fuck, i need you!”
pulling off with a ‘pop!’, he grins at your now bare body, slipping his fingers between your soaked folds before tugging off his boxers and freeing the monster of a cock you’d only felt up until now. he pumps the shaft a few times before slapping the tip against your clit.
you lay there, entranced. “oh my... you’re fucking massive.”
“yeah?” he grins, letting go and cupping your face tenderly. “think you can take it, baby?” he asks genuinely, searching your eyes for any sense of hesitation. “we can stop at any point, okay? just tap me three times and i'll stop, promise.”
you only gulp in reply, staring at the thing nervously before opening up your legs fully, your sweet spot on full display for him.
“be gentle...”
“of course, love.”
with one arm beside your head and the other on his cock, the muscular man lines up, then pushes slowly into your sopping cunt with a, “fuuuckk.”
you huff out a whine, squeezing your eyes shut, trying your best to accommodate for his big size.
“holy shit! ken— i— fuck—” you’re already a blabbering mess and he’s not even halfway in, adorable, really.
kento smiles as he draws such pretty noises from your throat, thrusting in a little faster to see just how loud he can make you scream.
“kento! you're so fucking big, shit!”
he hopes everyone hears that.
“almost there, honey. keep your hips still, i'm almost— fuck!—” with one final pull, he’s bottomed out, your stomach bulging from his size.
“god, ken! move, please move. need you.” you groan, gripping the sheets with balled fists, in complete and utter ecstasy from the full feeling,
he listens, rocking his hips back and forth. he goes tantalisingly slow at first, then speeds up as your whines grow desperate,
“more, please, go faster ken!”
he pounds into you relentlessly. sure, it’d been a while since he’d done this, but he couldn’t let himself be anything less than perfect for you, because in his eyes, you were perfection.
with each thrust he’s drawing you closer and closer, each dirty word coiling you up tighter and tighter, until finally,
“o-oh! kento, i think m’ gonna— i think i'm gonna—”
and with one final thrust, you’ve come undone all over the man’s cock. he rocks into you a few times with nasty grunts before coming himself, thick ropes of seed painting your insides, the warmth sending your brain into overdrive.
he keeps still for a good while after it all, panting heavily with his weight pressed over you, his forehead dipped down near your collarbone.
his thumbs drag over your waist gently as you both calm, huffing and shaking with pleasure.
“shit,” he whispers into your ear, “you were fucking amazing.” he laughs, tired.
you let out this small, stupid laugh, “so were you, kento.”
he smiles and brushes a soft kiss to your temple before finally pushing himself up, “you all good?” he asks gently.
you nod, then realise how intently he'd looking at you, waiting for an answer. “m’ good. really good.” you grin.
that gets another one of those small smiles. “good, let me clean you up, angel.”
he disappears off the bed for a second, grabbing something from his drawer, then comes back with a warm, damp cloth. “open your legs f’ me.” you obey and he wipes away the mess he’d left behind tenderly. to think, the same guy who had you pinned down on his cock just minutes ago, now taking his time making sure you’re clean and comfortable
“ken,” you say, softer now.
“hm?”
“that was… really nice.”
he stills for half a second, then resumes. “yeah?”
“yeah.”
he glances up at you then, eyes searching your face like he’s trying to figure out if you’re just saying it, but you’re not.
“i was worried this’d be…” he trails off, “i dunno.”
“what, bad?” you snort.
“no,” he says quickly, “just… not this.”
you tilt your head. “you mean not… us?”
he doesn’t answer, he finishes what he’s doing, sets the cloth aside, then leans back on his hands looking at you.
“i guess so, yeah,” he admits. “wasn’t sure you’d even say yes.”
“yeah, well... i liked it being us. and i’d like it to be us again, if you catch my drift.”
“me too,” he smiles, kissing your forehead once more.
you scoot closer to the man and rest your head against his arm. “we could’ve done that ages ago.”
he lets out something between a laugh and a sigh. “i know, and i wish we did.”
“we’re so dumb.”
“mhm.”
you smile, nudging him. “you like me.” you tease.
he looks down at you, then away with a flush on his cheek.
“and you like me.” he replies.
“i do.”
“so what now?” he asks, looking down at you with curious eyes.
“well... i like you, and you like me... normally this is where people start seeing each other.”
“well, i’d love to start ‘seeing’ you, [name].”
your brow quirks. “yeah?”
“i mean it,” he says, more serious now. “this isn’t just me proving something to those assholes. i really like you, sweetheart.”
you blush gently, then reply, “good. because i really like you too, i’d be a little pissed if this was just to get back at them.”
“two things can exist at once.” his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining together.
after a good two hours of talking about what this meant for the two of you, nanami dressed you, fed you, and walked you to your car outside the frat at around 2am.
“text me when you get home,” he says.
“yes, dad.”
“i’m serious.”
“i know,” you grin. “i will.”
you lean in and plant a quick kiss to his cheek, then slip into your car.
~
the next morning, nanami’s standing in the kitchen making avocado toast with a big old smile on his usually stoic face.
as he’s spreading the avo across the bread, one by one, his frat brothers trudge down the stairs. they yawn and stretch as they stalk towards the kitchen.
“morning,” nanami calls over his shoulder.
no one really answers him properly, so he glances over his shoulder.
gojo, suguru, toji, sukuna. they’re all just standing there, looking at him like they’ve seen a ghost. a tall, muscular, post-sex glow ghost.
he furrows his brows in faux confusion. “what?”
gojo’s the first to break. “so...”
nanami sighs. “so?..”
“did you—” suguru starts, then cuts himself off, “did you... and [name]… like, fuck?”
nanami turns back to his toast and cuts off his crusts. “yes.”
...
toji lets out a low whistle. “no way.”
“way,” nanami replies dryly.
sukuna leans against the counter. “you’re serious?”
“i don’t make a habit of lying.”
the men are still awkwardly quiet, then gojo steps forward, grin creeping back onto his face, but for once, this time, it’s not mocking.
“y’ sounded pretty passionate last night. real cozy, you guys a thing now?”
“yep.”
toji walks up and claps him on the shoulder. “didn’t think you had it in you.”
“clearly,” nanami mutters.
suguru smirks. “she’s hot as hell, man.”
nanami doesn’t respond to that, just takes a sip of his black coffee.
sukuna gives a short nod. “you're real lucky.”
“i know.”
and there it is. silence. no digs at his lacking sex life, no jokes about his dry dick, and no incessant teasing.
god, is this heaven?
gojo stands by nanami’s side, then sticks his hand out. “good job, man.”
nanami looks at it for a second, then takes it.
one by one, they follow with quick daps and nods of approval, like some unspoken ‘bully the fuck out of nanami’ rule just got rewritten.
and then they’re moving on, grabbing food, talking about anything else and finally leaving him alone at the counter.
nanami exhales slowly, staring down at his plate.
bliss. no more comments, no more pressure, absolutely nothing left for them to hold over him.
and yet, that’s not even the best part.
he reaches for his phone, smiling fondly as he types you out a message.
kento [8:12am] good morning, angel. did you have a nice sleep?
you [8:12am] best sleep of my life.
kento [8:12am] i'm glad. could i come over tonight?
A/N was motivated to write this req for wifey @fricks, and co-creators @blu-goingdark and @/kiwiladylaurence (silly girl won't give me her @) helped me with an idea uwu so sugoii
a curious psychology student would have the time of their life trying to determine why gojo satoru is such an attention seeking whore. he grew up normal. got plenty of love from friends, teachers and family, so that couldn't be the reason why he acts so needy.
satoru fucks anything pretty with no discrimination. girls, guys, anyone with a sharp tongue and fluttering lashes who call him pretty words, whether it's stupid whore or pretty boy, he's on it like a moth to a neon flame.
his body is a testament to that life. he works hard to make himself as appealing to as many people as possible. he's got broad shoulders, muscles that flex and strain against the tight clothes he often opts to wear, nipples pierced with silver bars that catch the light just right, a belly button ring, and snug briefs that never give an inch of comfort or modesty. he never wears boxers, always briefs. it's because comfort doesn't come first, flashing and teasing does.
satoru doesn't even bother to pretend like he's not a slut. he lives for it, actually. he'll come to a party in the tightest shirt possible that rides up any time he even shifts his arms, with pants that show the imprint of his fat cock, and relishes in the way everyone's eyes turn to him. then he'll lounge on a couch with his legs spread obscenely wide, ensuring his bulge is framed just right, and grins at anyone whose eyes linger.
he makes propositions, too. saying "yeah, i'd fuck you," between sips of alcohol, then grins at the way his victim blushes and squirms at all the affection they're receiving from him. "c'mere, lemme see what that mouth does," he'll laugh, tugging someone into his arms. he'll ride some big, beefy man's thighs in front of a crowd simply because it makes his cock throb harder knowing people are watching.
in bed he's worse. he moans like a pornstar, loud and unashamed, begging and groaning and making sure everyone in the building knows he's getting his hole stuffed or his cock milked dry. he loves being degraded. call him a dumb slut, a pretty bitch, a whore, and he'll cum for it. he'll rut against the sheets while he's being edged, smearing precum all over, moaning "fuck, please, I'll do anything, just put it in."
and he loves cum. he wants it everywhere, on his face, dripping down his chin, sprayed across his abs, soaking his briefs, in his ass, or if he's doing the fucking, he'll paint it all over the person's body. but his favorite is filling up someone with his thick loads.
he'll leave parties with strangers and come home the next morning with bruises on his thighs, bite marks on his chest, silver bars through his nipples swollen from being tugged all night.
as you walk down the quiet hallways of jujutsu high, having finished teaching your last class of the day, you try to ignore the chattering from the other teachers about the so-called "charmer" on staff. you've heard enough rumors of gojo satoru and how good he allegedly is in bed, because the second the students are gone for the day, all the teachers like to do is gossip. and their favorite topic is one they all have in common, satoru.
it seems as though they've all had turns with him and just want to whisper about their experience. but you don't care for any of it. you really don't care.
which is why he seems so interested in you.
leaning against the wall outside of the teacher's lounge as he listens to all the noise in there around the halls about him, he watches you head towards your office. you're new. cute in a way that's untouched and unaware, and that just makes you all the more enticing to him. he loves untouched goods.
"hey there," he says, voice smooth as he steps up to your side, keeping pace with you. "looks like i finally get a chance to meet you, newbie."
you glance up from your papers in hand halfheartedly, giving a polite but curt nod. "hello."
that's it. no flirting, blushing, or checking him out. no reaction, just neutrality. like he's a speck of dust on your notebook.
his grin falters slightly, brows lifting incredulously. did he just... not get the reaction he wanted? he takes a step closer to press up against your side, invading your space, hand brushing lightly against your arm provocatively. "not impressed by me?" he tries to hide his offense with teasing. "surely you've heard about my... talents." he pauses. "at teaching and sorcery, of course."
you shrug, keeping your gaze on the papers in your arms. "i've heard a few things."
he narrows his eyes for a second, hoping the suggestive tone in his voice would at least make you think about everything you've heard about him in bed, and how he's trying to catch you off guard. but he keeps his composure. "anything interesting then?"
you lean away from him slightly, making a left towards your destination. you still don't take the bait. "not particularly."
satoru is not used to this.
people usually react in some way or another. blush, hesitate, flirt back, get nervous... something. but here you are, giving hints that you want him to fuck off, not fuck you.
"nothing about me interests you at all?" his entire ego is shaking. satoru leans closer again, grinning through his offense, and raises his blindfold enough to stare into your eyes. "hm. don't think i won't find a way to make you change your mind. i'm very persuasive."
you brush him off by disappearing into your room and making a point to close the door on his face.
from then on, satoru doesn't leave you alone. he's everywhere you are, even when he has no reason to be. the hallway, the lounge, the the parking lot - you walk into a space, and he's already there, getting into your space. every movement you make, every subtle shift of your posture, every nervous brush of your fingers against your own papers, he notices. he watches. how you slowly start to crack under the pressure of his unwavering attention.
he's touchy, too. puts his hand on your ass to guide you through a door he's held open for you, grabs your hips and looks over your head to see what you've got in your hands, and squeezes through tight spaces you're in to brush his cock against your ass so you feel what you're doing to him.
he looks at you as though he's imagined having you, under him, gasping and whimpering at his touch and his cock stuffing you full. his behavior reflects this too.
...
you realized staying to work so late was a bad idea the minute gojo offered to spend the extra hours with you. when he'd asked, you'd simply shrugged and waved him off, having forgotten about agreeing to his request of; "oh, you're staying late? mind if i stick back with you? i have so much to get done too, and i'll work so much better if i have someone to help me focus."
it wasn't a problem to gojo. he simply reminded you of your agreement by dragging you off to his office once everyone started trickling out. now he's sprawled at his desk, papers scattered everywhere, pen balanced between his fingers because he hasn't actually done a single bit of work since you walked in.
"you know," he says, leaning back in his chair as you flip through a stack of research notes, "most people would kill for alone time with me. you won't even give me a smile. i'm hurt."
"you could actually help instead of talking," you reply flatly, not looking up.
"i am helping," he says easily, and the scrape of the chair legs follows as he moves closer to your side. gojo peers down at your notes, chin hovering just above your shoulder. "see? moral support."
with a sigh, you push one of the papers toward him. "if you want to be useful, read that section and summarize it." gojo takes the paper, but instead of reading, his eyes lift up to meet yours again.
"i'd get a lot more work done if you were here on my lap to guide me."
your eyes lift from the desk to glare at him. "not a chance."
he pouts, giving you his best puppy dog look possible. "but i'm so cold, and i keep fidgeting, and all of this work is just so overwhelming. why don't we share an assignment? that way we can use both our brainpower to get it done twice as fast. then you get to go home sooner. isn't that what you want so badly, teacher? to run away from me?"
you watch him for a minute, catching the way he veils his sarcasm and mockery so intricately. if you weren't as observant as you are, it'd be hard to notice that he's trying to get in your head. not taking your eyes off his pitiful expression, you give a small, unimpressed hum. "or," you say slowly, "you could just focus for once in your life."
he grins wider, leaning closer until his shadow spills across your notebook. "oh, i am focused. just not on the paper."
"gojo-"
"satoru," he corrects, voice almost coaxing. "say my name properly. because we're friends, aren't we?"
you give him a long, withering look, the kind meant to shut him up. it only makes him beam. his knee bumps yours beneath the desk. deliberate. testing.
every time you shift away, he follows and skates his fingers along the edge of your chair, the tips brushing lightly on your leg. "you're really determined to resist me, huh?" his tone is light and mocking. "that's cute."
"you think everything's cute," you respond back shortly, pushing his hand off you, to which he responds with a pout.
"not everything." he leans in just enough that you can feel the warmth rolling off him and smell his cologne. "just you." you turn your head sharply, but his smirk only deepens when your eyes meet. you're so close you can see the faint glint of his nipple bar glinting under the thin fabric of his shirt.
your heartbeat stumbles. beyond your better judgement, knowing he won't stop pestering you until he gets what he wants, you oblige with a roll of your eyes. "fine. i'll sit on your lap and help you. but if you touch me, i'm leaving again."
he perks up excitedly, spreading his legs to make space for you to sit. "you got it." he says far too playfully, taking your hand once you stand and dragging you to sit on his broad thighs. you can feel something hot twitch against your butt the moment you're seated.
shaking your head, you ignore his nonsense and give him the benefit of the doubt. his thing probably isn't as big as what's prodding you right now anyway. maybe he's got something in his pants. maybe he's the type to stuff his bulge with socks. you wouldn't put it past him.
you return to your work, analyzing the figures on your paper intently when satoru slides his hand between your legs, just holding his palm against your soft mound unabashedly. you whip your head back so fast he gets a gust of your sweet shampoo. "what are you doing?" you snap at him, to which he simply responds with a grin.
"my hand's cold. and you're all warm over here, direct body heat, y'know?"
"can't you hold them in your own lap?" you shoot back, hitting his hand when it pushes against your clothed pussy.
he shakes his head quickly. there's a look on his face that gives off the impression that he planned this whole thing. "not with you sitting on me. and don't move, this is better."
you let out a breathy moan when he rubs his hand up and down your pussy through your panties. you couldn't believe you wore a skirt today. it's as if fate wanted you to be easily accessible to him. "satoru," you warn through your little breathy pants. all that does is make him preen, your use of his name spurring him on.
"tell me to stop and i will." he hesitates, but doesn't remove his hand from where it's cupping your mound. you press your lips together to prevent any more noises leaving you, thighs clenching around his hand, as it presses firmer into your clothed pussy.
no gesture that you want him to stop.
he lets out a huff through his nose and nods. "thought so."
satoru's fingers slip under your soggy panties and start toying with your folds, long cold fingers circling and rubbing up from your hole to your clit. he gathers the slick arousal that's already coating your lower lips, then spreads it around with delight, watching you squirm around. "oh, you're sensitive." he says, voice full of mock sympathy. "is this why you didn't want me to touch you? cause your pussy's all messy?"
you're about to tell him to shut up, but he beats you to it, easing a long, dexterous digit inside you. he immediately feels your silk walls flutter and clench around the intrusion, sucking him in greedily. satoru begins to pump his finger inside you steadily, his thumb circling your clit in time with each thrust.
his other hand comes up to grope your breast, fingers rolling and pinching your nipple through the thin fabric of your top. then, he tugs the neckline down, buttons popping open the further he stretched it. your soft, pillowy mounds get exposed to the cool air and his greedy gaze, and he wastes no time in angling you so he can take one into his warm mouth, suckling and grazing a nipple with his teeth.
the finger in you gives a sudden twist inside you as he eases it inside you to the knuckle, prodding and nudging against your squishy insides. his thumb hasn't stopped on your clit, and neither has his mouth on your breast. so much stimulation to your body at once has you overwhelmed and already embarrassingly close.
somehow, he knows how close you are, and spreads you out using two fingers, slipping his middle one in with his ring finger, then, unexpectedly, a third.
you feel so full from his fingers alone, and your hand grabs at his wrist as he plunges his fingers in and out of you, sending your juices dribbling and gushing out of your hole. "oh my g-gosh, please!" you cry out, squirming and squeezing around his wrist firmly when he starts fucking you with his finger rough and slow, pushing firmer on your clit and rolling it around now that he knows you're about to cum. he pulls off your tit and soothes where it's puffy and swollen from his sucking with his tongue.
you let out a pathetic and needy sound, body pushed back into his as you cum around his fingers, walls clamping and fluttering around him as your orgasm crashes through you, cream leaking down your joined hands and onto the seat below, creating a wet mess.
"hngh- s-satoru, take 'em out now, too much!" you babble, though your hand never exits from around his wrist and you keep grinding your clit into the soft pads of his fingers. "now you wanna use my first name?" he says, finally slipping his fingers out of your pussy with a gooey pop, taking them into his mouth and cleaning them off while you look back at him, embarrassed, but moreso, aroused.
satoru sits you upright on his lap and aligns your bare pussy directly on his bulge, holding your hips and slowly starting to grind you on his clothed cock, hands groping and rough against your body. "ngh- you feel so good... body's so soft," he praises, moving his hands down to your ass, tugging his lip between his teeth and moaning as the flesh just molds into the shape of his hands. it's like you're made for him.
the rough sensation of his slacks to your swollen, folds leaves you twitching and gasping, and your hands rush to cling onto his shoulders. he lifts his hips a little each time he nudges you forward, making sure the seam, bumpy and textured - hits your embarrassingly hard clit over and over. it's almost torturous, how he's making you continue even though you just came, but you don't tell him to stop. you don't want to tell him to stop.
instead, you gasp and look down, fumbling with his zipper needily and wanting him to stuff you full. if you've already gone this far, you might as well see what all the hype is about. if king satoru gojo is as good as he seems to be.
he smirks and lifts his hips a little further so you can free his cock from the confines of his pants and boxers, and lifts the hem of his top into his mouth so you can see his pretty piercings, gold today, and his toned, pale body. he grins at the way your movements slow a little. you take the time to study his body appreciatively, before rolling your eyes. "fucking arrogant-" is the last thing you say before his long, thick cock slips out of his bottoms and hits his tummy.
well, there's another thing for satoru to brag about.
his cock is just about perfect, pale and pretty with a dusky pink, flared head. slightly curved, with veins wrapping around the shaft and sitting pretty on a plump pair of balls. you nearly salivate.
"you think it'll fit?" he looks up at you, making sure to fake sincerity again, furrowing his brows and fanning his lashes at you. "i can fuck you with my fingers more if your little pussy isn't stretched out properly-"
you scowl at him, and, determined to prove him wrong, push your panties to the side and spread yourself just as he did before he slipped those three thick fingers in you.
your pussy slowly descends around him, inner muscles instantly wrapping around his sensitive head, causing joint moans to leave both your lips. his head is tilted to the side so he can look at your face even with your back to him, and his eyes don't leave you once as you sink down nice and slow onto his cock. not even to look at the way your pussy stretches around him to accomodate him inside you. he just can't get over your expression. eyes hazy, lips parted in a silent moan that turns into a shaky gasp as you finally take in his thick base. you've managed to take in every bit of him; his dick isn't visible anymore because it's sheathed completely inside you.
with quivering thighs, you try to grab the handle of his chair and lift yourself up to begin riding his thick cock, but he beats you to it, grabbing you and handling you up and down onto his cock with no warning.
you squeal out his name and tip your head back into his shoulder as he wastes no time in controlling the pace of your fucking, lifting you up and down on his throbbing cock like you're a toy. his hands span across your body, big and heavy as he guides you, your toes curling where they're skimming the floor.
he kicks your legs open a little wider so your pussy's spread to take in more of him, sucking down his cock each time he bottoms out. he can feel how deep it hits inside you, pushing up against the deepest, softest parts inside you that cling to the head of his cock each time he tries to pull out. he's sure to grind his hips up onto that spot each time they milk him in.
you moan loudly when he does, fingers wrapping around his and guiding down so he can push on the faint bulge in your tummy that appears when you're seated fully on his cock. he groans and takes your lead. "fuck, your pussy's so soft." he moans, licking a broad stripe along the side of your neck. "soft and ngh- tight and creamy. best i've ever had, i think. oh shit."
he keeps rolling the swollen head of his cock against that velvety spot inside your inner walls, causing both of you to moan in unison yet again, louder as he lifts you up to leave only his tip in you, before sinking you back down around his cock, your pussy rippling around his cock as it adapts to his size.
each thrust stirs around the creamy mix of your shared juices inside you, both your slick from the orgasm you've just had, and the creamy loads of precum that keep drooling out of him. "s-satoru, we're making a mess," you gasp, watching and hearing the mess leaking out from where the two of you are joined, hitting the floor and the chair under you.
satoru groans and stands up, pushing you over the desk and bending you in half, thrusting his cock back into you rough and sudden. he lets out a pleased huff at your squeal your body not accommodated to this new angle, but you quickly get overcome again with the feeling of him fucking into you hard and fast, his hands caging you in under him.
"you look so pretty like this," he pants, leaning down over you to push his body against yours, making sure his cock stays as deep inside you as it can go while he pounds his hips into your ass, balls slapping into you. "fucked dumb on my cock. don't you wish we did this sooner?" he pants into your skin, tongue poking out to lick your sweet skin. "just ask me if you wanna fuck from now on, okay? mnh- i'll let you do whatever you want to me."
you pant, orgasm nearing the more his cock spears into you, the repeated motion making your brain slow and clogged up as he hits your sweet spot again and again and again, his mouth closed around your throat now to suck marks on your sweat slick skin. "satoru-! please, please please," your words are a blend of hiccups and whines as a stream of tears from overstimulation start falling down your face, which is smushed against the cool surface of the table. as are your tits, which are still bare and rubbing against cloth and polished wood, your nipples swollen and puffy.
your pleading is drowned out by the sloppy sounds of his thrusts, squelching and plap! - ing as he chases his orgasm.
withdrawing his hips just a few inches back, satoru shoves right back inside with no warning, deep enough until he feels it won't go further. the flared head of his cock presses tight against your cervix, putting pressure inside you until you can't take it anymore, legs shaking before you gush around his cock.
your pussy milks him in and clamps down around him as your juices spill around his shaft, coating his balls. he grunts, hips stuttering as he pushes firmer against your cervix, cumming straight inside you and spilling into your womb, hot, creamy fluid overflowing inside you until some trickles out alongside your mess.
satoru keeping you quiet with his blindfold while suguru's asleep in the same room . . . [18+]
“mmmm–”
you mewl against satoru’s hand, his cock brushing against your walls so deliciously, you can’t stop the little whimpers from leaving your mouth. and the fact that gojo’s roommate, suguru, is asleep in the same room doesn’t matter to you. at least not right now.
“shhh, baby..." he coos quietly, rocking his hips up against you. his thrusts deep but steady, trying to stay as quiet as possible, not letting the bed creak even a little.
“can’t," your words stay muffled against his skin, your eyes falling on suguru’s bed. it’s too dark to see him completely, but you’re able to make out his posture. he’s on his back, face turned towards ceiling, eyes fluttered shut, breath steady.
is he really asleep?
a harsh snap of satoru’s hips pulls you away from your thoughts and you bite back a moan, just barely. “you're too deep–”
you couldn’t help the whines that escaped your mouth as gojo continued to pound into you from behind, his cock rubbing against your spongy g-spot with every thrust.
“ahh… toru…” you cried out, pussy already clenching around his thick girth.
“baby, come on,” satoru muttered through shaky breaths. “i’m gonna have to pull out if you can’t stay quiet.”
his words sent a flash of panic through your body.
"i try to be," you pouted against his hand. “but it feels so good…”
"i know it does," he slows down his movements, thinking for a moment.
his hand leaves your lips and flies to his face, he quickly takes off his blindfold, balling it up.
“open up.”
you do as you're told, mouth opening immediately. before you can even register what’s happening the dark material is being stuffed inside your mouth.
he starts thrusting up again, your velvety walls begin to clamp around him even harder than before. “that’s it. so good for me.” he whispers breathily into your ear.
the quiet but obscene sounds of his dick pumping into your wet cunt filled the room along with your whines muffled by his blindfold.
you bite hard into the fabric as you come all over his cock. your release leaves a creamy ring around his cock as he keeps pumping into you.
satoru moans against your ear when he feels the way you’re gushing and clenching around him. his orgasm builds up too. thick, warm ropes of his seed fill up your pussy, making you whimper and tighten even more.
“don’t squeeze so hard,” he groaned, barely keeping it together.
before you can answer, both of you freeze when suguru groans and rolls over–with both of you facing his back. you two watch him, expecting to be caught in this compromising act, but all you were met with, was silence.
a few seconds passes by.
satoru chuckles quietly, pulling out his softening cock out of your pussy. “he’s a heavy sleeper.”
your mouth still full, but you manage a slight smile, trying to play it cool. but you can’t deny, that some fucked up part of you wanted to be caught by your boyfriend's best friend.
“no you don’t, pretty girl,” satoru purrs in your ear, glossy lips moving to tongue at the marks he’s been leaving down your neck. his chest is pressed to your back as he holds your legs open wide enough so suguru fits perfectly between them.
the latter lies on his stomach in front of you on your twin xl bed, his teeth marks littering your inner thighs. his index and middle finger press on either side of your puffy lips and spread them apart, whistling at the slick that pools from your opening and leaves a sticky mess all the way down to your bed.
you jerk in satoru’s hold at the burst of air from suguru’s lips, fighting to close your legs but satoru keeps them open, forcing you to remain exposed to suguru’s ministrations.
“don’t.” his grip tightens for good measure. “let us see, yeah?”
“if you hate us so badly,” suguru slides a finger through your slit, dragging the moisture up to your clit, using the glide to circle it easily, slowly, dragging a shuddering breath from between your lips, “why’d you let us in?"
“i—we were s-suppose to b-be study—ngh!”
suguru lays his tongue flat against your entrance, tensing it and licking upwards towards that bundle of nerves, humming at your taste all the while. his tongue flicks meanly on the nub and your back arches into satoru’s chest, fingers gripping satoru’s thighs where they cage you in.
“you got this wet just from studying?” suguru’s mocking you, his pretty face staring up from between your thighs before his head dips down for another fleeting taste of your leaking cunt.
“and you opened the door practically wearing nothing, pretty,” satoru’s tongue dances along your ear, his husky voice making you clench involuntarily around nothing. suguru doesn’t miss it. “we’re just giving you the attention you clearly wanted.”
your retort dies in your throat as suguru dives back in, kitten licking at your clit, eyes darkening when he sees how pilant you go against satoru’s chest from this little bit of teasing. your breath comes out in heavy pants, hips shifting forwards against your better judgment, trying to chase suguru’s tongue every time he leans away.
“keep her still, ‘toru.”
a hand leaves leaves your legs, pressing hard on your lower stomach instead, halting your squirming and forcing you to take the little that suguru gives. satoru’s second hand leaves your leg with a rough squeeze before its sliding past his second underneath your thin tank. “keep them open. don’t make me tell you twice.”
the rough pads of his fingers find your taut nipple and pinches hard at the same time suguru sucks your clit between his lips and you cry out, hips trying to buck against your will but satoru holds you firmly against him.
“she’s so responsive even though she hates us,” satoru huffs, trailing wet kisses across your cheek, forcing your head to turn so he can lick filthily into your mouth, swallowing the noises you’ve been trying to keep in.
“she doesn’t hate us,” suguru claims, not referring to you but to your cunt that’s steadily dripping around the tips of his fingers that are positioned at your entrance, circling your hole while his mouth explores the rest of your mound. “she’s leaking down here, and we’ve barely touched her.”
you whimper into satoru’s eager mouth, who kisses you sloppily, making your stomach turn. it takes some effort to unlatch your lips from his, him continuing to chase you when you back away, refusing to let you go while his hand roams your chest just as eagerly.
“suguru—sugu, please—more, more—“
the tip of his finger breaches your slick entrance and you sigh into satoru’s mouth while he peppers kisses along the outer edges of your lips. “you want more from him, pretty? and asking so nicely, too.”
a frustrated whine leaves your lips when the pressure at your entrance backs off. satoru peeks over your shoulder at the sight below and a sick grin paints his features.
“oh? look at that.”
satoru nods in suguru’s direction and your bleary gaze moves back down. his fingers tap away at your entrance, entranced with the strings that follows his fingers every time he pulls them away.
“all this for us, baby?” suguru watches with an almost innocent fascination, little plap plap plap sounds filling the space between the three of you. it’s embarrassing, how wet you are, how you’re aching for more than just the tip of a finger or lick of your clit from a pair as annoying as them.
but when satoru’s hand inches away from your tits and joins suguru’s between your legs, slipping his own fingers through your arousal, you let your pride get away from you just this once.
“please—please d-don’t tease m-me."
satoru chuckles into the junction of your neck and shoulder and suguru smiles in a way so sinister you almost flinch away from him.
“hear that, ‘toru? she doesn’t want to be teased.”
satoru hums, contemplatively. “yeah, i heard. pretty girl wants more, remember?” his fingers slip beside suguru’s, sliding through your sensitive folds collecting slick and suguru’s saliva, swirling slow circles around your clit. it makes your toes curl and your back bends away from his chest.
“mhmm. a shame she hates us, though.”
suguru’s fingers that have been building you up suddenly pull away and you shiver at their loss. satoru taps away at your clit a few more times before he follows in suguru’s footsteps, bringing his soiled fingers up to his mouth to taste the remnants of you. suguru’s smile widens when he takes in your confused stare.
“what—“
“a real shame.” satoru’s chin hooks over your shoulder and his hands come to rest on your thighs, wet digits leaving a mark on your skin. “tastes so sweet too, wish she liked us enough to let us make her cum.”
you can hear the grin in his voice, see the look they’re sharing right in front of you as protests bubble up past your throat before you even know it.
“n-no—please, i didn’t—“
“really hurt our feelings, princess. saying you hate us when we just wanna make you feel good.” suguru’s hands slide slowly up to the apex of your thighs, moving around satoru’s and stopping right before where you need him most.
“and i know she’s aching for it too,” satoru tsks over your shoulder. “maybe if she apologized, don’t you think, suguru?”
the words rush from between your lips, airy and desperate while your cunt clenches, the ghost of suguru’s finger haunting your senses. “‘m sorry, i’m s-sorry—“
“gonna have to try harder than that, pretty,” suguru taunts, bringing his face down til he’s eyes level with your cunt once more, blowing a stream of cold air on it, just to feel your thighs tremble where he holds them. “don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”
“he’s right. need to be specific if you want us to know what your talking about.”
they’re relentless, you realize. going back and forth with their teasing with you in the middle, sensitive beyond belief and teetering on the edge while they act oblivious. frustrated tears well in your eyes and you want it, them, against your better judgement.
“i’m sorry—sorry, for saying i h-hate you both.”
silence greets your words, and you watch them engage in a silent exchange once more. you’re breath hitches, and you’re ready to put forward your best effort in this state when satoru breaks the silence from behind you.
“good enough for me. how about it, sugu?”
a tongue licks over your cheek, wet and warm and it makes your mouth drop open, satoru taking the opportunity to claim your lips once more, groaning into your mouth.
“oh, please,” suguru scoffs, but he poises two fingers at your entrance and slides them right past, your greedy cunt sucking them in so easily and you shout into satoru’s mouth at the intrusion. “you just want to see her cry.”
“i do,” satoru responds, but it’s whispered into your mouth like it’s just for you to hear. “don’t you want to cum for us, pretty girl? promise it’ll feel real good.”
a smile paints satoru’s features, bright eyes flashing when your lips detach from his with a whine, your head falling back on his shoulder as suguru takes your clit into his mouth, fingers still working their way through your gummy walls.
“suguru—please, please—“
the slow pump of his fingers and swirling of his tongue makes your heart race. shuddering breaths fall from your lips as he keeps toying with, not giving you nearly enough for you to finish. and satoru knows it, too.
“c’mon, suguru,” he’s whining behind you, reaching down and wrapping a hand around suguru’s wrist, forcing him to pump his fingers faster, harder. the sweetest cries they’ve heard spill from your lips and your hand finds suguru’s hair, clenching his silky locs in a fist, rocking your hips further into his face. “she said sorry, right? make her cum, wanna see her cry. wanna see her soak your face.”
“‘toru—“
“don’t talk. eat. or we could switch places. do you want that, pretty?” he’s asking you but staring at suguru, catching his glare while helping him fuck you faster. “i’ll be so nice to you, swear it. you want me to take over?”
“like hell,” suguru almost growls before he’s hungrily lapping at your bundle of nerves again, fingers curling as he fights against satoru’s grip, pressing against that soft spot that has your eyes rolling, moans tumbling from your moth. satoru takes his hand away, satisfied, hardness pressed against your back as you writhe against him, incoherent babbles leaving your mouth.
satoru coos, hands roaming your body, mouth finding new places on your neck to leave any mark he can. “fuck, she’s shaking, sugu. think she’s close? she tightening on your fingers, hm? shit, i can hear it.”
satoru’s filthy words make your thighs come together, trapping suguru between them as tears start to spill from your eyes, just like he wanted. suguru groans between your legs at your pretty sounds, hips twitching on the bed and the vibrations on your clit make your head swim.
“close, c-close—sugu—‘toru, please, i’m so—ah!”
“she’s crying, suguru, holy fuck,” his tongue finds your face again, tracking the salty bead down your cheek and licking it away. “gonna cum on his tongue, pretty? he’s working so hard, go on, give it to us.”
one more press of suguru’s fingertips in to that soft spot and a bite from satoru is enough to finally break you. vision going white, you spill all over suguru’s face and down his fingers, arousal pooling on your sheets as you rock your hips and ride your climax on his fingers. you’re gasping their names, shaking in satoru’s hold as suguru continues to lick into you like it’s his last meal.
“too much—too—“
suguru spreads your thighs, freeing himself and sliding his fingers from your cunt with a lewd squelch. he places a gentle kiss on your clit before lifting up, bringing his fingers to his lips to clean away the last of your taste.
“you alright, princess?” but he’s kissing you before you can respond, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth and making you taste yourself. weak hands grip his shoulders as you mewl at suguru’s desperate kisses, trying to catch your breath.
satoru groans against your cheek, fingers digging into your thighs, watching suguru kiss you so messily, rosy cheeked and desperate for a taste.
“suguru, move.” he shoves suguru away by the shoulder, taking your chin between his fingers with one hand and sliding the other down to cup your sensitive cunt in his big hand. “gonna let me have a turn right, pretty girl? i’ll make you feel better than him, just say the word.”
“‘m tired, satoru—“
but satoru’s already shifting your positions, practically kicking suguru off the bed as he eagerly wiggles his way down the bed with you in tow. then he’s lying on his back, hands poised on your hips.
“suguru, come here. help me lift her.”
you want to protest, but they’re pulling you up already, guiding your weight until your turned, kneeling over satoru’s face and staring down at him, legs shaking where they hold your weight up, his own glowing eyes locked on the mess of your pussy, white locs spread around his head on your pillow like a halo.
a chest is pressed against your back as suguru settles in behind you, hands on your hips and sliding your tank up so he gets just as good a view as satoru.
“go on, sit on his face, princess. give him a taste.”
“still tired, pretty girl? i’ll do all the work, ‘kay? don’t be shy, i got you.”
⋆ ok back to jjk and just hit 1 million (1k) followers so consider this a celebration, thank you and love you all!!!!!
discoholicmusic
jbbartram-illu
origamiaround
germansingergirl
janainaart
kaledo-art
