hatred is the best foreplay
Dilf Gojo x Milf Reader!
contains nsfw content such as: p in v sex, huge buildup, unprotected sex
An: im so sorry if you've seen this before but I've had to keep reposting until it showed up in the tags
You didn't know what had gotten into you. Fury marred your very being as you made your way through the dedicated martial arts hall. The tatami mats lining the floor reeking of disinfectant.
The polished trophies lining the wall gleamed in a mocking light. The blinding LED lights shining overhead as you continued your march towards your daughter's sensei's office.
The class trickled out of the room and into the lobby, some of them sending you looks filled with complete and utter bewilderment.
Not that you cared at all, the blood in your veins rushed away from your clenched fists, nails digging into your palms. You made it to the traditional prettily painted Fusuma doors in record time. Eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.
You didn't even bother knocking before slamming the traditional style doors open.
In an instant the scent of the private instructor's office met your nose, it was a powerful and weirdly graceful stench of boiling sugar; warm, sweet and rich. Fading gradually from a light candy floss-like scent into a deep buttery caramel smell. But beyond that, there was also a certain musk in the air. Earthy and natural mixed with boiling sugar. It was a strange concoction but you'd be lying if you said the smell didn't take you by surprise.
You'd never expect someone who had been training 30 children for 2 hours to have an office smelling so fresh.
Then you saw him sitting there behind his desk. Having not even looked up from his place where he was writing what looked to be an express report.
"Close the door behind you." His deep cadence filled the room. His pen not stopping but his head lifting slightly. His unnaturally bright blue eyes staring at you. Staring so fiercely and with such concentration that it almost felt like he was staring through you rather than at you.
He was stripped down from the traditional wear you'd usually find the Gojo Dojo Jujutsu students garbed in, dressed instead in baggy white street pants and a tight black compression shirt. His usual signature sunglasses balancing on the tip of his nose. Why was he even wearing sunglasses inside?
His training jujutsugi hangs over one of the spare chairs in the room. You turn on your heel and close the door with a sharp click. "Happy now?" You snap.
He makes no move to abide your clear wish for a fight. His calloused hands drop his pen onto his report and he gestures to the chair opposite him. "Please do sit. What can I help you with?"
You found yourself standing still, eyes blazing a hole through him. "You know damn well what you can help me with! Your brat has been picking on Mari again. Why haven't you done anything about it? You're raising a bully! You're letting her walk around and treat people like punching bags and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of seeing my daughter cry because of yours"
There was a sudden shift in the room, the temperature dropping in an instant. "Watch your tone." A sharp clatter reverberates through the room. He had thrown his sunglasses onto his desk. Now he was just left staring at you, his blue eyes deranged and murderous. "You are a grown woman punching down at a little girl."
"Well maybe I wouldn't have to if she had an active mother and a father who cared enough to teach her right from wrong."
"Well maybe I wouldn't have to if she had an active mother and a father who cared enough to teach her right from wrong."
Silence enveloped the room.
"I beg your pardon?" His voice was even, trying to elude a calm and collected reaction but you knew better than that.
You knew you had pushed his buttons, and you fully intended to keep doing so.
Until you knew your daughter wouldn't fear her after school lessons, you would keep doing so."You heard what I said." You grit your teeth, your tone considerably less even than his. Your anger flowing through into every syllable you spat.
He scoffs and his eyes narrow, in a swift instant he rounds his desk and appears in front of the chair which you had refused to sit in.
"Awfully fixated on my family aren't you? Want an opening or something?" His tone was clipped, sharp.
You couldn't help the eye roll that followed. "Please be serious. All I want is for my child to feel safe and happy doing something she loves."
"Then why not take her to another Dojo? If it's so remarkably bad here, why not leave? You have every opportunity to do so. There's the door. Walk through it whenever you want." He laughs, but it isn't a friendly laugh. No, it's a laugh filled with a heated resentment. His eyes getting sharper as they glared down at you, as if your very existence was an inconvenience.
The question strikes a nerve you never thought Satoru Gojo would be able to strike, but leave it to him to find any possible way for you to despise him more. "Because—look it doesn't matter why we can't go to another Dojo. Do you know what it feels like to watch your daughter come home day in and day out, upset, because of your child?"
"So you say and yet, my Kaoru has only ever had bad things to say about your Mari." The voluminous haired man jeers demonstratively.
You found yourself staring at him in a blind rage, your chest heaving with each angered breath.
You wanted more than anything to tear that smug look clean off his stupid face. Your jaw clenched even tighter than before, your hands curling into rearing fists. The urge to slap the slimy sensei was so strong it made your blood thrum, but then again, so was your urge not to go to prison for assault charges.
Lord knows you couldn't afford that at the moment.
That was the ugly and bitter truth of it. You couldn't afford it. You couldn't just walk out the door and tell your daughter that she was never coming back. This place was the only one in your budget, the only one a single mother on your salary could afford, and even now you barely managed to scrape together enough money every month for her sessions. Mari loved this sport and you were her mother. It was your job to make sure she didn't fall out of love with it because of some horrid bratty bullies.
If you couldn't change her Jujutsu training Dojo, you would just knock some sense into the parent of the girl bullying your daughter.
That was easier said than done when you had found out that the bully went by the name of Kaoru Gojo, the daughter of Mari's sensei.
"I am not going anywhere, and neither is my daughter. You listen to me, I don't know what your problem is but you need to teach your child some respect. Do you hear me?"
Gojo's eyes narrowed into a flat glare. A lethal one at that. If you were anyone else you would've been terrified. His eyes read a distinct dangerous finality. You were getting on his nerves. You were pushing him too far. Good.
The silence surrounding the pair of you was suffocating, all consuming.
Neither of you moved, honestly taken aback by the sudden silence that had befallen the room. The atmosphere that was encircling the pair of you became warped.
His gleaming blue eyes practically sparkled as they fell over your form. They were stripped of their usual arrogant mockery and filled with something darker.
His eyes met your defiant glare again, tracking the enraged movement of your jaw before his dastardly gaze once again slips lower. Lower than it should. Lower than what would be considered commonplace for the two of you.
Locking on the sharp rapidly rising and falling heave of your chest.
With every ragged breath you took, the atmosphere in the room just seemed to get heavier and heavier. Pure hatred burned in your eyes as you glared at him.
You knew it.
He knew it.
So why was he looking at you like that?
You were practically vibrating with the urge to maim him, but you doubted you'd get far with him being a trained jujutsu sensei and all.
But there was also something else now.
Not fondness. No, never.
You doubted you'd ever harbour any feelings for him that didn't make you feel alight with rage.
But there was something.
Something in the way he was looking at you right now.
If you were being completely honest with yourself, your legs felt like jelly under his gaze.
He was staring at you like a predator would stare at its prey. It was the most vulnerable you'd felt since you had gotten here.
The very thought sent a shiver down your spine.
His eyes flicked over you again before returning his gawping gaze to yours.
Your eyes? Or your lips?
You didn't know what was happening until it was happening.
It was messy and surreal but his lips met yours with a noisy clash. The shock making you freeze up before you returned the fierce and driven intensity.
It was less invitation and more of a collision. Violent and unfriendly. It was maddening. Neither of you found yourselves stopping however.
It was a brutal fight between teeth and lips and tongues and not either of you were gonna settle for second place it seemed.
Your clenched fists unfurled as you found yourself subconsciously grabbing onto the tight fabric of his dark compression shirt. You swore you must've been gripping the material tight enough to rip it, though even if you did, it's not like you'd notice in the current moment.
The sheer weight of his presence, of his body against yours was choking you. You could feel every muscle as it moved in tandem with your own body. Every ripple of his flesh as he pulled you in even closer, his hands having found their way into your hair seconds prior.
You felt so crowded by one man, yet you didn't feel claustrophobic. You felt electric.
He groans into your mouth, his eyes squeezing shut even more as he pulls you impossibly closer to his person. His grip on you only tightening as the kissing progressed.
The sounds he was making were heavenly, not that you'd ever admit that. His groans were low, gravelly, filled with an intoxicating need that you'd never heard before. It was the prettiest song you'd ever heard.
His hands slide down from your hair to your face, his thumbs pressing firmly against your cheeks to forcefully open your mouth wider for him.
He wasn't being gentle and frankly you'd be offended if he was. This wasn't love. This wasn't sweet or kind or beautiful.
It was a hateful, burning passion that was eating you both from the inside out.
His hands continued to travel downwards, one laying splayed across your waist. His thumb rubbing your sides as if it would do anything to ease the harsh tightness of his grip on you.
It was messy, a passion created from absolute unrelenting animosity.
You wanted to punish him for his arrogance, you wanted to be punished for your rudeness.
What the actual fuck was wrong with you?
The thought however did not last long before you got lost in him again. His scent enveloping you as he held you as close as humanly possible. There was barely any space between you for you to move. Something told you that's how he liked it.
Your teeth caught his lower lip and he lets out a breathless, almost charmingly sharp laugh. His breath hitting your lips as he pulls away slightly, leaving only an inch between your lips.
Then he peered around the room, seemingly realising that you were still in the jujutsu Dojo. His eyebrows furrowed, even though the place was empty and he knew it, doing it right then and there didn't sit quite right with him.
Considering this is where he taught mostly 6 year olds.
No, he wasted no time in grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you through the dojo. The trophies and artwork on the Fusuma doors you had seen before now only a blur as he practically drags you through the front door and into the parking lot.
The street lighting in the parking lot shone over the both of you, casting looming shadows over the cars and the two people barely hanging on by a thread.
He locks up quickly and practically shoves you towards his car with a harsh slap across your ass, the sting burning even through your layers of fabric.
The luxury SUV was so obviously his, the dark blue colour shining under the dim street lights.
You looked back at him as you made it to his vehicle, he looked back at you with nothing but hunger.
But… There was no burning hatred in his eyes now.
Only the incomprehensible need for you. He looked at you like he wanted to swallow you whole.
His inhumanly blue eyes were beautifully dilated, dark, unhinged and filled with the need to consume.
The cold night air was biting but it wasn't the chill in the air that sent the shudders down your spine.
He didn't say a word as he reached out towards the car door handle. The accompanying click of the high-tech car door opening mixing with the building anticipation in your chest.
His massive frame brushes against yours as he leans down to you, his hot breath hitting your ear, making the skin on your neck go rife with goosebumps.
"Ladies first," he practically purred as his big hands ran their way down your body, landing firmly on your hips.
His dilated crystal blue eyes burned with an intoxicating needy starvation.
It felt so good to be looked at like that, it felt so… right? It had been so long since you'd had sex. It felt right to be needed. To be wanted.
His invitation wasn't a polite one, it was one rushed and filled with a lustful expectation.
A silent dare to see if you really would get in his car or if you would back down and run with your tail between your legs. But this was it, the point of no return, and you had no intention of turning back now.
You gave him one last venomous glare that you mustered with all your might. Clicking your teeth in irritation as the detestation of your gaze tried to burn a hole through the man. Tilting your chin with a defiant huff, you climbed into the back of his navy-coloured Range Rover.
The heavy door had nary a time to click shut before you moved, your thighs encircling him as you sat on his lap.
Rolling your hips teasingly, you didn't need to move much to feel the sheer size of his erection straining against his streetwear pants.
Even through the thick cloth he looked gargantuan. Your hands find his shoulders, clenching dangerously tight around his deltoids.
You didn't know if you'd be able to take him, what were you even doing here? You were a mother for fuck's sake.
Just as your thoughts were spiralling into self-doubt, the arrogant bastard beneath you chuckled, "Getting scared? Thinking of backing out?"
"In your dreams," you growl. The noise tearing from your throat with a velocity you didn't even know your vocal chords could accomplish.
The grin on his face only grew wider and as much as that annoyed you, you couldn't care too much knowing you'd be taking his full size soon.
Your knees dig into the leather cushioning of his car's backseats. You were hovering right over him, looking down into his unhinged eyes full of carnal madness.
Your chest—still heaving—was practically shoved in his face as you lingered in your place above him.
He lets out a low breathy grunt, his face perfectly poised between your breasts. Only the cloth of your clothes remained in his way. "Trying to suffocate me? Not all that bad of a way to go out." It was silent for a second before a grow growl emits from him.
"God you're beautiful. Now, let me tear your clothes off."
His hands rapidly reaching out, moving from your hips to pull your shirt over your head. The complete and utter depravity of the man as he practically snapped your bra as he tears it off you was shocking, but oh so blissfully sexy.
When it came to your panties he was sparing nothing. He tore them off of you with one violent tug.
"Holy shit." His breath hitches.
"Oh, you owe me new panties." The heated hatred had fallen out of your voice now, all that was left was a soft cadence that barely made any noise in the luxury car.
A dark and perilously erotic smirk tugged at his lips as he peered at you through his snowy eyelashes. He was trapped beneath you, and yet it seemed he didn't wanna be anywhere else. Even you had to admit how ethereal he looked in that moment.
He looked entirely triumphant.
"Look at you," he rasps, his voice a cocktail of arousal and gravelly vibrations that sent shockwaves through you. It was as if he was actually commanding you to look at yourself, look at how helpless you were becoming for him.
Refusing to be the only one on show, you grab the hem of his black compression shirt and pull it over his head.
Maybe you shouldn't have; even though the compression shirt gave you a good idea of the pure muscle that lay beneath, you weren't expecting this. It was enough to make your mouth water.
"Drooling already? I haven't even given you something to drool over yet."
You ignored him, your mission to even the playing field taking top priority. "Take off your pants."
He raises an eyebrow but wastes no time in doing as you ask. His belt coming undone in record time. Lifting himself off the seat, taking you with him to kick off his trousers. You were amazed; you had no idea he was so strong.
Now he was clad in only his white boxers, the huge tent in his pants sitting prominently, waiting to be released from its confines.
His boxers hang quite low on his hips, leaving the perfect ample view to see his chiseled V-line. Right down the center of his hard abdomen, coarse white hair—his happy trail—had perfectly framed his form. So the curtains did in fact match the drapes, huh?
It was only a shame that both disappeared into the waistband of his underwear.
An evil idea pops into your head as your nails reach out to gently scratch the soft skin of his lower stomach, slowly going down, following the path laid out by both his happy trail and his perfect chiseled V-line.
Making sure to curl your nails slightly into the skin, leaving a light tickle down his flesh before arriving at the bulge in his pants, perfectly shielded by the cotton of his underpants. His entire body went rigid as you did it, his gaze becoming hooded as he watched your hands trace his very being. His eyes dilate impossibly more as you reach the limit of what his current state of undress would allow.
You tried desperately to move, your struggling however yielded no results.
His massive chest crowding yours. You knew for absolutely certain that you would not be breaking out of his prison-like grasp anytime soon.
He was a world-renowned martial arts champion, he was solid muscle and there was no way you could break his grip by force. If you were gonna obey his command then you'd need more room between the two of your heated bodies which were pressed sinfully against each other.
The worst part? To get that room you'd have to ask him for it.
Swallowing harshly your glare returned but significantly less venomous. Refusing to let your voice waver you let out a command that felt so powerful coming out of your mouth. "Move."
The white-haired man blinked, confusion shadowing his usually arrogant and smug features.
"Move or I can't reach them."
Satoru Gojo quickly relented and fell back, his hands hovering but not touching as you eyed him up.
The man's confusion had quickly turned to acceptance and then a gleeful smugness as he watched you, not at all prepared for what was about to happen.
His eyes widened in utter shock as your entire body went down to pull down his underwear.
He was even more shocked when your pristine teeth nipped the waistband of his boxers and tugged.
You were left directly facing the most beautiful cock you'd ever seen. It was so manly in stature, a beautiful 8 inches, maybe? With enough thickness to make a girl scream. Beautifully patterned veins decorated him beautifully. The head a bulbous mushroom tip, flushed red-raw with copious beads of precum already leaking down his impressive size.
You were left utterly breathless at the sight.
The drool that had plagued your mouth earlier suddenly returned in full.
His eyebrows shot up in amusement.
But it didn't last long before he threw himself back on top of you, leaving you just as stuck, just as dominated as before.
Only this time… he was lining up with your entrance.
A choked breath escapes as you force out a panicked "aren't you gonna prep me first? No foreplay?"
He purses his lips. "I was under the assumption that you hating me was the foreplay." And with that, he glides in.
You were almost shocked at how easy he thrusted inside of you. You hadn't really gotten that wet just from fighting with him, had you?
"So desperate for me, baby," he pants, his hips wasting no time in slamming forward with a brutal fast pace.
His thick pretty veiny cock hit every single spot inside you, even some you never knew were there. His delicious cock dragging against your pussy walls making you cry out in bliss.
Your moans, whimpers, whines and everything in between were no longer hidden. You couldn't hide the noises he was making you create even if you tried.
The sheer power of his hips thrusting into you sending you wave after wave of pure unadulterated euphoria.
With every powerful thrust and every needy cry the windows fogged up even more with every passing second. Trapping the thick scent of boiling sugar and leather in one decently sized vehicle.
The car rocked on its suspension with every single slam of his hips against yours, his eyes rolling back in his head each time his balls slapped against your ass.
It was almost rhythmic, and it was a powerful, wordless exchange.
He leans down, his body pressing closer as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.
His breathing came in harsh, short gasps that matched the frantic nature of his movements.
He suddenly tears his face out of the crook of your neck, his eyes laden with nothing but lust as his speed quickens to a frantic, unrelenting pace.
His inhumanly blue eyes almost manic with the heavy arousal swirling within them.
It was as if he wasn't staring at you but rather at your soul, the realization hits you at the same time your body seized and tightened. Eyes rolling back in your head as your pussy squeezed down with all its might around his large cock.
It was truly embarrassing how he hadn't even had to touch you to get you so worked up. Even worse was the fact that you never noticed until he pointed it out, and he was right.
Arguing with him had ignited a passion in you that you forgot you could have.
Satoru Gojo wanted to see you break, wanted to see you cry out in pleasure because of him. But he never expected this, watching your eyes clenching closed as your pussy milked itself on his cock was all he needed.
He couldn't help himself, couldn't hold it back. In an instant he had reached his peak, the high of it buzzing his skin, his hammering heart, his frantic eyes. All of it and none of it mattered in that moment.
Every ruthless drive served only to work you through your climax and to get him to reach his. Every single thrust made him feel incredible. It didn't take long before he finished too, inside.
The heat in the cabin vanished the second you felt the thick unmistakable warmth of him filling you up. Reality slammed back into you like a freight train. Your previously blissed-out eyes snapped open, replacing the pleasure was a cold panic that ran all the way through your body.
"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" you hissed, growling as he flops down on top of you. His heavy weight keeping you trapped on the custom leather seats.
"What the fuck was that? Why didn't you use a condom or pull out?!" you shriek in a panic you had not anticipated. "What is wrong with you?"
The snowy-haired man only holds his hands up in surrender, but his eyes gleamed. He didn't look panicked or scared and you think for once in your life, you wished you were Satoru Gojo.
He was completely calm, annoyingly calm.
He reaches out, his hand running through your hair. His hands gently but firmly grabbing your knees to stop you from kicking him in the nuts from your place beneath him.
"Breathe, okay?" he murmurs, calm and absolute. You hate him. You hate that it works.
"I'm not going anywhere, okay? We can get the pill if you need?"
The smell of your home was a humongous relief. Your body was exhausted and you were sure you looked how you felt.
Kicking off your shoes at the door, you could see your daughter happily colouring on the lounge floor in front of the busted TV.
"Mama!" she yells, her bright eyes glowing with excitement as she runs to you. "So what did sensei say? Is he gonna make sure Kaoru stops being so mean?"
You don't respond for a second before you felt a smile tugging at your lips. "Yes, baby, yes he is."