synopsis: when a blast from Dynamight's palms renders you homeless, you're compensated with the opportunity to join his agency as a (much needed) publicist! Except, he's an asshole.
A new friend you make along the way helps you through it, until you cross the line of friendship the very same evening your boss corners you with his tongue down your throat.
Now you have them both pining for your attention, but who says you have to choose just one?
genre: bkdk x reader, nsfw, slowburn, enemies to lovers (bkg), friends to lovers (izu), publicist!reader, teacher!izu, pro-hero!bkg, LOVE TRIANGLE
warnings: nsfw (18+!), abusive/foul language, mentions of death, mentions of bullying, mentions of war, injury detail
a/n: i am so excited to write this gahhhh ive had this planned for months. the format for this chapter index is inspired by @/tvkvi
this has been in the works for a while and i think i've finally finalised where i want this story to go, so enjoy!
↳ status: ongoing
character playlists here!
prologue. SUBURBIA — welcome to your new home!
01. THE STREETS ARE PAINTED ORANGE — you're yet to meet your new boss, except he's everywhere you look in all the worst ways. . .
02. GREEN TINTED GLASSES — your new friend has a disgustingly positive outlook on life, perhaps it's starting to rub off on you
03. IS IT A DATE? — friends can take each-other out for food, right?
04. FAILURE TO COMPLY — bakugo's only moving further down the ranks and pressure from the agency is only growing, can you remain true to yourself whilst staying good at your job?
05. GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME — working with someone as uncooperative as bakugo proves challenging
06. BOMBS AWAY! — a villain attack on the city thrusts you and bakugo into the limelight
07. THE FLESH THAT SCARS — the attack you became the centre of has left you (more than a little) shaken up, both boys try their best to make things right
08. HARD TO CHOOSE ONE — both boys are desperate to prove themselves to you, which results in a very slippery thursday. . .
09. CRASH — avoiding only makes things worse, you learn the hard way
10. BEST OF BOTH WORLDS — izuku (and katsuki) present you with an alternative
SUKUNA HAD you currently on your hands and knees, his hands holding firmly onto your waist, red marks forming under his fingertips. His hips smacked against your ass with each of his deep thrusts. Your whole body jerking forward each time.
Tears rolls down your face, not because it hurt but because it felt so good. You had always been a little shy in bed with Sukuna but tonight was different, you had been so desperate for him all day you couldn’t hide how much you needed him.
“Harder..” you whined, he slaps your ass hard, leaving a red mark blooming on your skin. “Yeah? You want to be fucked like a slut?” You could only moan in response.
He grabs a handful of your hair, tugging your head back, you back arching further. “What’s the magic word?” He taunted with a smug smirk on his face, but he had never expected his innocent girl to be begging to be fucked harder.
“P-please.” You choked out and he harshly lets go of your hair only to push your face into the pillows to hit at a deeper angle. He pulled his cock out almost all the way, till only the tip was in before slamming back into you. A broken moan escaping your lips, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, your tears staining the pillows.
“You like that, hm?” His cock hitting your cervix over and over again, hitting the perfect spots deep inside you. “Fuck, yes..” you moan out. A grin spreading across his face, he loved seeing this side of you that he had never experienced before.
He grabs your throat, pulling your head back up, squeezing it tight enough for you to feel it. Your breaths coming out uneven. “Such a fucking whore.”
His words make your walls flutter around his cock, feeling yourself get closer, and he felt it too. “You close?” He slows down his thrust purposely, pausing your upcoming orgasm. You whimper from the sudden slow movements, desperate to finish.
You try move back on him but his hand moves off your throat and to your ass, spanking it again as a warning, the slap echoing through the room. “Beg for it, doll.”
“Please,” you say desperately, tears falling down your face, his thrust slowly picking up the pace. “Please what?” He slaps your ass once again, harder than last time.
“Please.. please fuck me.” You sob out, a satisfied smirk tugging on his lips. His hand runs over your ass where he slapped it, soothing it over. “Good girl, that wasn’t so hard, hm?”
He returns back to pounding deep into you but not slowing down this time as your orgasm builds back up. Your breaths ragged as your body trembled, your walls clamping down around his cock making him curse under his breath.
His hand moves to find your clit, rubbing it quickly, dragging out your orgasm. Pleasure rushing through your body, a moan teared from your throat as the feeling of his cock pounding deep inside you and with his fingers on your clit at the same time your body was overwhelmed with pleasure.
The thrust soon become erratic as his own orgasm creeps up on him, his grip on your hips painful as he buried himself deep inside you, filling you up with his release, a deep groan slips past his lips.
He keeps his cock inside you as it starts to soften before eventually pulling out, your body collapsing against the bed. He chuckles lowly, patting your ass. “Didn’t think you could be such a slut.”
hellooo this is me reminding u to write about sleepy bkg leaving ur apartment at night and begging for more kisses 🫡🫡
GO HOME! (2.5k)
— bakugou katsuki x reader
your boyfriend doesn’t want to go home.
cw: suggestive, swearing, pretty tame
“i can hear you not putting your shoes on!” you shout from your kitchen, refilling up your water bottle by your sink.
it’s nearing eleven pm on a weekday and you’re nearing the end of your bedtime routine. after finishing your final session of tussling in bed with your boyfriend, you sleepily got to showering and doing your skincare while bakugou was tasked to go back home.
you’re screwing your lid back onto your bottle, bag of popcorn under one arm as you step into your foyer. you find your boyfriend slumped in your chair for putting shoes on, doing exactly not that.
bakugou katsuki is in his thick grey socks, a random pair of black joggers he left at your flat and his oversized khaki hoodie. he looks handsome, always does, but this time he’s appearing a little disheveled. a flower wilting as the clouds begin hiding the sun.
you’re his precious sun with the energy to keep him happy and at peace, till he’s forcefully pulled from your grip.
his hoodie is unzipped, the right side awkwardly longer than the left from being dragged on in a tantrum. his white tee underneath is creased from yanking it over his head with a guttural sigh. he’s even got a water stain on it from hovering over you when you washed your face in the bathroom.
he’s got his head in his hands, legs spread with his travel duffle by his feet. he hasn’t even managed to grab his shoes off your neatly organised rack by your door.
you potter over to him, shaking your head softly with a sweet coo.
bakugou does not want to go home.
“baby. go,” you hum, dragging your slippered feet across your floor.
you tuck your body between his open legs, putting down your bottle and snacks to lightly tickle under his chin. you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever experienced from him, though it’s still miles below the ones he gives at work.
calloused hands find the bare backs of your soft thighs and lightly, he squeezes.
“you fuckin’ hate me,” he huffs, but his pout comes through. all his features softening under your attention, minus the twist in his brows. “gettin’ rid of me like this.”
you don’t miss the hickies on his neck, two maroon bruises because all you’ve done together these past few days is kiss, cuddle, eat and have sex. since bakugou became your boyfriend, he often forgets about his own apartment. his home is much larger, much more luxurious with built in speakers in the ceilings and a double headed shower. but he always lingers in yours, though he never outstays his welcome. even now.
“i don’t want you to leave but you need to pack for your mission tomorrow,” you smile, taller than him as he sits.
he feels delirious when he stuffs his face in your cotton soft stomach. you smell freshly showered, clean, cosy and like home. bakugou feels like his heart has been stabbed with a fork. he already misses you and you’re right in front of him.
it’s like he’s fighting the devil on his shoulder, to just stay over again tonight and get up early tomorrow. he can grab his shit from home and go straight there. he knows that plan will throw his whole day off tomorrow. also you hate waking up early.
he blinks at you slowly, like a cat that loves what he sees.
for you, it’s easy to get hot from his touch alone and that stare makes you nudge in closer to him. you want to sit on his lap, kiss down his neck again, despite being all over him an hour ago.
“you want me to piss off so you can watch love island,” he breathes, looking up at you with the sweetest ruby puppy dog eyes. there’s a scratchy tone to his voice, sleepiness clearly taking over though he fights it to spend a second longer with you.
you know for a fact you’re the only person in this universe that has seen katsuki like this. that thought alone makes you want to call up his job and say he can’t come in tomorrow. say he’s sick so you can cuddle his big head in your lap. who would you even call? the hero commission? his sidekicks? he is his own boss.
“i do have a load of episodes to catch up on since you’ve been here,” you say sweetly and he eyes your snacks, then your water bottle placed on the shelf beside him.
he’s a grumpy baby in a twenty seven year old, muscled man’s body. he scrunches his nose at the mention of that show. he hates all reality tv, so he says, even though he ends up asking you for details throughout every episode.
“just say you hate me,” he grunts, tilting his head up for a kiss.
you don’t give in just yet.
“i love you but you’ve gotta go. you’ll be even grumpier without sleep in the morning,” you smile.
he rolls his eyes. ever the dramatic one. “yeah, yeah. i get it. love you too.”
you stand there for a few moments. his grip on your thighs getting tighter, his chin in your stomach. he rubs his cheek against your palm, his stubble prickling against you with every move.
“you need to put your shoes on—,”
“you look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, even biting down on his bottom lip.
you narrow your eyes at him. you know exactly what he’s doing and it usually has a hundred percent success ratio.
he pulls off you, keeping his hands on your thighs to look down your body. stupidly, it causes you to look down at yourself too.
your soft pastel pink boy shorts because you get hot at night. your comfy low cut navy strappy top, that has seen better days but you have no need to replace yet. your nipples poke through the fabric and you don’t miss bakugou’s gaze wafting over them with his tongue poking his cheek.
he looks as if he’s about to moan or take a bite out of you. you can’t tell yet. you don’t mind either.
“katsuki, stop it. you were supposed to leave an hour ago,” you look to your clock beside your front door. “an hour and a half ago.”
bakugou grits his teeth then relaxes by kissing the strip of your stomach between your vest and shorts. he releases the quietest whine.
“i wanna stay here with you.”
even though he’s being dramatic, you’ll see him in less than a week, every word releases tingles down your spine.
you press a kiss to his lips, to which he eagerly pushes back. his hands sneak up to your waist holding you with purpose. it’s only a peck but everything he’s feeling is translated through.
“you’re killin’ me,” he says onto your lips.
“it’s not me, baby. you have the world to save tomorrow. you can make love to your girlfriend when you get back,” you say tenderly, brushing your thumb over his cheek.
“i’m givin’ you a good fuckin’ when i see you again.”
“you always do,” you shrug playfully and bakugou chuckles, shaking his head in resignation.
“fuck. fuck my life,” he grunts to himself, pulling his slides off your shoe rack and shoving them onto his feet.
“it feels like you’re obsessed with me, kats,” you giggle to yourself, stepping back so he has space to stand up and sling his duffle over his shoulder.
he raises one eyebrow, a huffy laugh releasing from his throat.
“hm? you think?” he takes his hand through his hair, a light pink blush on his cheeks from your attention. “‘course i fuckin’ am. i’m comin’ right back to get you when i’m done.”
you lift up on your tiptoes, hands on his pectorals, “if you say so.”
“i do say so. i am sayin’ that,” he mumbles, hands finding your ass to lift you with ease.
you wrap your legs around his waist so he doesn’t have to bend to kiss you.
“next thursday, okay?” he kisses the corner of your lips, feeling your cheeks rise. “and still text me. i’ll have my phone on me in the evenings.”
you smooth down his eyebrows with your thumbs.
“yes, dynamight sir,” you drawl, but you lean in to peck him, a noisy kiss that has him chasing after you. he moans softly.
“another.” he whispers.
with your arms wrapped around his neck, you give his bottom lip a nibble, one that causes an exasperated groan. then you slot your lips over his, pushing your tongue into his mouth to tangle against his. it’s long, wet and pulses throughout your body.
you push your chest against his as if you’re trying to merge into one, bakugou’s fingertips sinking into your ass cheeks.
it’s you that pulls away, landing two kisses on his lips for good measure.
“baby, no.” he complains.
since you’re the only one with self control here, you tap his shoulder.
“put me down now. you’ve got to go.” you say controlled and bakugou throws his head back in annoyance, “need you wide awake on the field so you don’t get hurt. i don’t wanna see a scratch on your pretty face when you come back.”
that gets him putting you down, your feet finding the floor. since getting with you, he’s much more mindful of his recklessness and getting hurt. bakugou doesn’t want to scare or upset you. you’ve become his beacon of light, his conscience and answer.
“my pretty face?” he grips the handle to his bag, a smirk rising. he’s still taking in his last few seconds.
you nod, “yes. come home safe to me.”
“i always do. don’t have to doubt me, princess.”
the pet name gets you rolling your eyes to hide how it makes your stomach do flips. he undoes both your door locks and slowly opens it with his shoulder like it weighs a tonne.
as if it’s becoming real all of a sudden, you throw yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him in a cuddle under his hoodie. you feel complete once you stuff your cheek between his pectorals and you squeeze him tight as thick arms cradle you in. katsuki’s always warm and toasty, a tall standing mattress for you to fall asleep on.
despite you urging him to leave, it doesn’t mean your heart doesn’t ache.
“i’ll miss you,” you say, eyes squeezed shut.
you’re just as dramatic as him, you just hide it better. you’ll see him next week.
“i’ll miss you. gonna think about you when i’m on the camp site shittin’ in the woods.”
your laugh makes bakugou’s chest swell.
“you’re so annoying.”
he shrugs.
with all the power he’s ever possessed in one single time, bakugou lets you untangle from him.
“i’m gonna go now.” he looks down your empty corridor, “i could stay over tonight and leave in the mornin’—.”
“you’re not waking me up at three.”
he turns to you with a frown.
“fine. another kiss, to wish me well,” he demands.
that you can do.
a smush of your lips, you gripping his tee as his hand cups your chin.
“another. for good luck.”
you huff playfully but still you give him another kiss. one that has you opening your mouth and letting him slot his tongue in between. it goes on longer than you mean, with you dragging him closer and his hands land back on your hips.
it’s when he groans without realising, a hardening bump in his waistband pressing against your stomach.
“go now!” you say, pushing him off you and bakugou drags a palm down his face.
“fuck,” he breathes, shaking the horny off his body. not the time. “i’ll see you next week. lock the door behind me. all of them.”
“i always do!”
he flickers down your body, one step into the corridor.
bakugou bites down on his bottom lip, “i love you. can’t wait to see you again.”
you awe, gripping the door and peeking out, “i love you too. i’ll keep you updated. even send you some selfies.”
bakugou nods rapidly, “please. i won’t be able to reply quickly but i will.”
“okay, i’ll see you later.”
he’s about to step away, he swears he is though he looks back at you peeping at him.
“one last kiss then i’m outta your sight,” he promises.
you eagerly pull out from behind the door, “last one! then you have to go!”
“yeah, yeah, yeah—,” he’s rough in the way you love, placing a palm flat on your back to pull you into him. you practically fall into his arms but quickly you’re up on your tiptoes.
it’s a kiss with the energy that it could be the last one you ever have. a hero going off on a mission and leaving his beautiful girl back home. though this isn’t one of his high risk ones, heck he’s going on his own because he’s so capable. yet still the day he returns feels like forever away.
you practically eat each other's faces, unable to stay appropriate down to your last moments together. you twist to the left as he goes right, holding the back of his head so he stays close. he’s not shy to push his cock into you, letting you know all the ways he will miss you.
it’s loud and messy. it’s trying to remember every inch of him so you can recall it in your nights alone. it’s bakugou groping every part of you he can get his hands on so he can mark you as his.
your blonde sucks on your tongue and you don’t mean to palm him but he ruts into you at the contact. you moan as pleasure sparks beneath your skin, the length of him growing cupped in your palm. you’re wondering if there’s time for another session even though he was meant to leave two hours ago.
the kiss only ends because you’re both breathless, using your last breaths to connect with the other. there’s giggles from you and three extra pecks before you force yourself to step away, using your front door as a shield from your riled up boyfriend.
you watch as he adjusts himself, rolls back his shoulders in a stretch and tries to screw his head on straight.
“goodbye now. for real, kats.”
he nods sharply, stretching his jaw side to side. “bye baby. i’m hard now.”
“that’s your own fault for begging for more kisses,” you grin.
he pouts, “how couldn’t i when you look like—,”
“bye katsuki. my tv is calling me!”
“fuck,” he groans, holding onto his bag strap and throwing his head back, “bye princess.”
comments n reblogs are appreciated. part 2 comments are deleted.
Satoru Gojo didn't think he'd cum in his pants on his first lap dance of his twenty-first birthday.
But there you were- grinding right on his cock to the music - in some slutty little outfit that hardly covered your tits, glittering underneath the red lights. Pretty nipples pressing up underneath that thin lacy material, just begging for his mouth.
He didn't know what to do with his hands, clenched at their sides, when faced with this milf's hips that look so breedable.
It's not like Satoru has even had sex yet - not for lack of opportunities, no - Satoru simply was a busy man, had his early master's degree, top of his class.
Hence why Sukuna and Suguru are laughing, watching him lose his shit with their favorite dancer.
You, their favorite dancer at this club. Oh, and you loved them not just because they tipped well, they were hot of course, but they were the kind of clients to ask about your day. You'd giggle as they did a line right off your neck, letting both of them have your cunt rock against their lap.
You were a single mom with bills to pay, and this was the only way you could stay all day - to dance at night while your mom let the baby sleep over. Was it what you wanted to do? Not forever
But damn you made good money.
Suguru and Sukuna frequently hit the VIP, and that's where everything got just a little filthy, but even then, they were all about you. Kissing on your neck, gripping your thighs, mentioning bringing their nerdy little friend last time and how much he'd just love you - apparently he was a bit of a milf lover.
You didn't expect Gojo to look like this though - nerdy, sure, but you could feel those muscles underneath his dress shirt, you could feel his long fingers pressing into your flesh. He’s blushing even underneath the red lights, you can see it on the bridge of his nose, his teeth sinking into his lower lip.
"Is this okay with you?" His friends are laughing at his questions, so you shoot them a glare.
"Sorry, mommy," they both tease, pouting as you roll your eyes, focusing back on Satoru, your hands pressing into his shoulders, long manicured nails pressing in just a bit.
"Focus on me," you tease, rolling your hips and pausing when you feel it. "Good boy, there you go."
He's huge, fuck.
Pulsing underneath his khaki slacks, making your cunt drip. Sure, some clients you got a little excited, but your damn cunt was drooling when he drags you down with his fingers digging into your waist, his tip nudging your twitchy clit underneath the glittering thong you're wearing.
"So pretty," he murmurs all cute, looking up at you, his lips almost brushing a little stretch mark on the side of your tit. "Cute."
Cute.
You pause a bit, heart hammering in your chest, suddenly so intimate you forget his friends and your fellow dancers are in here. You're blushing right with him when he whines out, jerking his hips up again.
"S-sorry, is that... okay to do?! I..." He's got fucked out blue eyes, dark with need, you manage a nod, feeling almost nervous when you've been dancing for two years now - putting yourself through college and paying it with a little baby?
Well it was expensive.
So this job meant a lot - and that also meant not being a blushing mess, no matter how hot the client. But you fear you're rubbing on him with no real rythym, chasing that high of cumming when that's against your own damn rules - his friends have girls on their laps, giggles and soft moans mixing with the loud bass.
But you can only hear Satoru Gojo's whimper.
A whimper that has your cunt clenching around air.
"Feel good?" You murmur in his ear, trying to act unaffected.
He nods, lips hesitantly kissing across your neck, plump lips tasting the glitter right off your skin, just that he can feel himself leak and stick to his digimon boxers, long fingers tightening their grip against your flesh.
"V-very I'm... ah, I'm..." you're soaking wet and so hot, it takes every bit of effort not to slide your panties aside and lose his virginity then and there. He's trembling when you pull back, your cheeks hot to the touch when he caresses them, stealing a little kiss, whining into your mouth. "Sorry..."
"No," you kiss him right back, and with one more movement of your hips - Satoru is busting, so much so it leaks through his boxers, the hot sticky mess clinging to your ruined panties, his moans barely muffled. "Mnh, s'okay..."
"Fuck I just... shit..." He's shutting his eyes and whining, knowing if Suguru and Sukuna knew they'd make fun of him, but you seem to be right with him, whining out, teeth catching your lower lip, gushing all down his lap.
The two of you pause, and you look down to see the mess you both made.
"Oh! Oh," you're both stammering, blushing little messes despite having each others' cum on your skin. "Let me um... I'll... come with me!"
You're dragging him so fast away, struggling to wipe him with napkins in the locker room, smearing the mess of fluids as you kneel.
"It's not coming out, ugh!" You keep wiping at it when you realize you're face level with his cock, and it's already tenting again. "Um, you can tie this around your waist!"
"Oh," you're snatching up your hoodie, tying it and trying to adjust it, when he cups your face, kissing you again, when he gathers the courage - taking a breath.
"Can we have a date?"
"A date...you want..."
"Please?" He pouts all cute, his glasses foggy from your kiss. "So I can give you back your hoodie."
You giggle now. "I have a kid though and..."
"Even better." You blink, then study his dilated blue eyes, his cute cheeks all bright pink. Fuck he's adorable.
"You are a milf hunter then, they were right!" he shakes his head.
"You'd be my first for... all of it. If you want!?" He is stammering now, all nervous, rubbing the back of his neck "We could just hang out, I don't need to..."
"Gojo..."
"Satoru, please. I just came in my pants, can you not tell I like you?"
"You're cute, Satoru..." you manage with a little laugh, tapping his lips. "I'll go on a date with you."
"Yes! I mean!? Okay," he tries to play it cool, even as his heart is racing, getting your number and texting you.
His friends might make fun of that pink hoodie on his waist, but he's the one who is getting a date with you <3
*****
hehe just something cute, I never make toru a virgin ahaha <3
ᢉ𐭩 fem!reader, 𝐵oxer!Yuji, who wins after surviving 12 brutal rounds, but he isn't thinking about the belt nor the cameras. He's focused on you.
"and your winner.."
The referee grips his wrist, lifting his arm proudly while the arena erupts into cheers. Fans going absolutely wild chanting his name. Commentators are yelling over one another. "What a performance from Itadori, Yuji!"
Flashes from the cameras are all going off at once. Yuji raises his other hand as an attempt to cover his eyes. Despite all the noise he could barely hear them. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. Blood trickles from a cut over his eyebrow. Sweat drips from his chin. He should be celebrating like everyone else, instead his eyes are scanning the crowd.
For you.
Unbeknownst to him, you were already making your way towards him. You are so proud of him, tears threatening to fall from those very eyes he adores so much. Training for months, just for this moment. Yet all he wanted was you sharing it with him.
The moment feels surreal. People are shouting, the lights blaring so hard they almost drown out everything else. Reporters are already climbing onto the apron, cameras pointed directly at Yuji as photographers scramble for the perfect championship shot.
But he isn't looking at any of them. His eyes keep searching. Where are you?
His coach pats his shoulder, the referee shouting something he can't make out over the deafening cheers. The championship belt is draped over him, heavy against his shoulders, but he barely notices it.
Then—
He sees you.
You're pushing your way through the crowd, tears already spilling down your cheeks. His expression changes immediately. His entire face lights up like he had won all over again.
Your eyes meet his and you spot that ridiculous grin, it's contagious. You smile back. Without another thought, he hops down from the ring.
Security immediately rushes over. "Yuji! This way—the interviews—"
"S-Sorry!" he calls over his shoulder, weaving around them. "Just one second!"
You barely have time to wipe your eyes before he's made it to you. You take in all of him standing before you. His ruffled up rosy hair, the sweat dripping from his head, the cut from his eyebrow that's still bleeding. God he looks hot.
You reach up instinctively, cupping his face as gently as if he were made of glass. "You did it," you whisper, your voice trembling.
"I did," he says with a breathless laugh.
Your thumb brushes carefully beneath his eye, avoiding the fresh cut. You analyze his pretty face. His puppy brown eyes staring back at you. "I'm so proud of you." you say gently.
His smile falters for just a second, not because he's upset. Because hearing those words from you means more than the roaring crowd ever could. He leans into your hand. His own raising to cup yours. "I kept looking for you," he admits quietly.
"I know."
"I couldn't find you."
"I was coming to you." you explained with a playful tone.
His eyes soften. "Oh." A small laugh escapes from him "Guess we had the same idea."
The cameras finally catch up, surrounding the two of you. Yuji immediately steps in front of you, separating you from the chaos. The sudden flashes and shouting voices overwhelm the quiet moment you had shared.
For a moment, neither of you says anything. You can see the worry in his expression, the way he keeps glancing back at you to make sure you’re okay despite everything happening around him. A small smile forms on your face, touched by how naturally he puts you first.
You smile softly and reach for his hand. "Go."
He looks back, a bit shocked. "What..no. Just ignore them, baby." He whines.
You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand for a second, "We'll celebrate later. Together." You smile, looking down at your hands, letting go.
Yuji's eyes follow yours down to your hands as your fingers slowly slip from his. He doesn't move and he doesn't want to. His thumb brushes against yours one last time before you let go completely.
"...Promise?" he asks quietly.
You look back up at him. "I promise."
His shoulders relax just enough. He nods slightly satisfied.
You reach up, gently brushing a stray pink strand away from his forehead, careful not to touch the fresh cut above his eyebrow. "And after they're done..." You lean in just enough that only he can hear. "...You're all mine."
His ears instantly turn bright red. "...B-Baby..."
You smirked to yourself, a quiet laugh escaping your lips at the sight before you. Yuji remained rooted to the spot, cheeks burning as he tried—and completely failed—to recover from your teasing. His mouth opened slightly as if to say something, only for no words to come out.
You gave him one last warm smile before taking a slow step backward. "Don't keep them waiting, Yu."
You turned on your heel, your figure disappearing into the crowd of people as you made your way toward the quieter hallway beyond the arena. You knew he'd find you the moment the interviews were over.
Yuji stood there for another heartbeat, completely frozen. "...Fuck." he mumbled under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck with a helpless grin.
"ITADORI!" his coach barked.
Yuji jolted. "Right! Coming!"
a little continuation of boxer!yuji 🥹 you guys gotta tell me what you guys want or gimme ideas!
It was still hard to believe you’d actually managed it, but here you were, on your way to the beach with Sukuna. The man had rarely stepped foot on a sandy shore in his entire life.
You had spent the previous night practically begging him. At first, he’d shot the idea down with a bored roll of his eyes, muttering that it sounded pointless and certainly boring.
But you knew exactly how to work him. One look at you pouting on the couch, combined with the mental image of you looking mouthwatering in a tiny bikini stretched out on a towel, was all the convincing he actually needed to change his mind.
You had stubbornly refused to let him see the bikini you wore under your clothes this morning, telling him, “I want it to be a surprise!”
Now that you had finally arrived at your destination, you didn't waste a second. You whipped your tube top off right there in the car, revealing a tiny, yellow triangle top covered in brown polka dots.
Stepping out, the matching thong bottom left absolutely nothing to the imagination from behind.
You turned around to face him, and the look on your boyfriend's face was completely priceless.
Sukuna was practically drooling, his eyes fixed entirely on you, tracking every single inch of bare skin you had just unveiled.
A wicked smirk spread across his face as you laid both of your towels out on the sand, his eyes tracking the way the summer sun hit your bare skin. “Come put sunscreen on me first, yeah?”
You nodded in approval, grabbing the bottle before straddling his thighs and sitting down on his lower back.
Pouring a generous amount of the cool lotion into your palms, you rubbed your hands together and smoothed them over his muscular shoulders first.
You worked your way down at a gentle pace, your thumbs kneading into the tight tension of his back, nearly massaging him.
“You're so warm and huge… I think I just wanted an excuse to sit on you like this,” you said, chuckling while your hands were still working on applying sunscreen.
You patted his broad shoulder, smoothing down the last of the lotion. “All done! You can turn over now.”
He kept his face buried in his arms against the towel. “I can't.”
“Why?” you asked, blinking down at him.
“I said I can't. Now just go swimming,” he growled, voice tight.
Giggling at his stubborn behavior, you ran off toward the water, which was completely calm without a single wave in sight.
You had absolutely no idea that his sudden stiffness was actually a raging boner, brought on entirely by your touch and that little remark you'd made earlier.
It took a solid ten minutes of intense waiting before the blood finally receded enough for him to turn over and sit normally on the towel.
Spotting him, you waved excitedly before running out of the water to head back to the spot.
You were completely soaked, your wet hair slicked back, and the water droplets tracking down your skin made your tits move in a way that had him wanting to take you right then and there.
Unfortunately for him, that exact view sent all the blood rushing right back to where it had just left.
As you got closer, he snatched your tiny purse on the towel by his side using it to hide his growing erection.
You stopped in front of him, dripping wet. “The water is amazing, get up!” you beamed, reaching out to tug at his tattooed arm.
Sukuna gripped the purse like his life depended on it, glaring up at you with pure desperation. “No. Go back in the water.”
You pouted, crossing your arms. “You're no fun. I thought you wanted to see the bikini?”
“I do,” he gritted out, his knuckles turning white around the strap of your bag. “From a distance. Sit down before I make you.”
ა ˙˖ summary → there’s no one you hate more than satoru gojo. he’s arrogant and entirely too full of himself. when you agree to be strictly enemies with benefits, gojo takes this as the perfect opportunity to finally make you his.
ა ˙˖ content: 12.3k wc, accurate portrayal of fraternities so the boys are jerks srry, hazing, rough sex, spit play, overstimulation, spanking, choking, desperate gojo, you really hate him so not much fluff this chapter! probably more I can't name rn. it's a lot.
frat!jo 𝓍 fem!reader
masterlist chapter two
When you first got your acceptance letter to your dream school three years ago, you never thought it would end up with you in this position. The side of your face pressed into the cold wooden desk by the hand of your enemy, your shorts and panties dropped to your ankles, his cock slamming into you so hard that your research papers and pens go flying to the library floor.
The sound of the legs creaking fill the study room room, his pace ruthless, long fingers digging into your cheek to keep you down as you bit your lip to stop yourself from crying out his name and begging him to go harder.
One might wonder how you, the notorious frat hater, ended up letting a playboy like Gojo Satoru get into your pants not once, not twice, but eight times in the last two weeks after swearing he was your number one enemy.
It all started the first day of uni when you let your roommate Shoko convince you into going to a sorority party after a long day of classes and reading syllabuses.
You had been minding your own business, laying on your too small bed with your headphones blaring music as you scrolled through Instagram and pretended like your mom hadn’t been trying to call you for the past twenty minutes.
She was probably calling to check in since she thought you were just getting out of practice, given that you lied about making the gymnastics team to get her off your back. You never even signed up, never had interest in it but had been forced into it as a child. Your mother always told you that one day you’d make it to the olympics and while you were good at it, you had no plans on doing such a thing.
So when her name pops up again, you hit the red button and put your phone on dnd. It was nine, you would just tell her you were asleep.
When you went to play your music again, your roommate walks in and immediately locks eyes with you, a grin spreading on her face that has you squinting suspiciously.
You really liked Shoko. You officially met two weeks ago when you were finally allowed to start moving your stuff in and you had both bonded surprisingly quick over the short period of time, spending almost every day together exploring the campus and surrounding city. Which means you were starting to differentiate between her smiles and the one she wore now told you she wanted to ask you something.
“Thank god you’re still up!” She practically skips into the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
You sigh and sit up, removing an earbud. You pull your rising shorts down and cross your arms with a raised brow. She moved to stand in front of your bed, biting her bottom lip and failing to contain her excitement.
“Spit it out already.”
“There’s a sorority party in an hour and I got invited which means by extension you’re invited and puhleasee, don’t make me go by myself!”
You tried everything to get out of going, from feigning illness to lying that you had to be up early tomorrow for class even though you both basically had the same schedule and your morning was lecture free.
You weren’t a boring person, you partied a lot in high school but this was college and even though you had no clue what you wanted to major in yet, this was where you truly needed to lock in and focus on getting good grades.
Unfortunately for you, Shoko wasn’t having any of it. For every excuse you came up with, she had an argument against it. You don’t wanna be hungover? Fine, just don’t drink! You’re tired? You’re only nineteen, you can rest when you’re dead!
“When your kids ask what you were like in college, are you gonna tell them that you were a loser who sat in her dorm all day or that you were young, hot, and knew how to have fun?”
She had a point. It was just one party, what harm was there in enjoying yourself for a night? If you didn’t like it, you would simply leave. Plus it was at a sorority. You could manage that, though you couldn’t say the same for frats.
You’d die before being caught in one of those.
Fraternities were the embodiment of hell, nothing good ever happened at any of them based on the horror stories your older sister told you while helping you pack for uni. Sweaty, packed rooms, obnoxious men that only wanted to get in your pants, stale beer and hazing were far from your kind of parties.
Fate, as it would turn out, had different plans in store for you.
You had begrudgingly squeezed into a tight dress, letting Shoko fix your hair and makeup before she was dragging you out the door and into her car.
When you guys pulled up outside of the sorority house, the scene before you was far from what a typical party looked like. The lights were mostly off except for a few rooms that were still lit and it was eerily quiet outside, no loud music or drunk college students dancing around the lawn.
Shoko had assured you that it wouldn’t be as hectic as a frat party would but you hadn't expected it to be deader than your social life. You turn and glare at your friend in the driver's seat who looks just as confused as you do.
What the fuck was this? You could have been in bed, doom scrolling through TikTok and here you were, dressed up for a party that apparently wasn’t even happening.
“I’ll go check, give me a minute.” Shoko mummers, hitting her vape before jogging up to the front door.
Your leg anxiously bounces up and down while you wait, watching as she knocks and someone with purple hair opens the door a few seconds later. You can’t hear anything but the conversation seems heated and brief before your roommate is stomping back to the car, annoyance evident on her face.
“The party is canceled. Someone got the flu and the entire sorority is sick.”
You fight to hide your smile, not wanting to rub it in Shoko's face since she was already upset. As much as it sucks that someone was sick, you couldn’t deny that you were happy. You didn’t want to go out in the first place and now you could-
“Buut.” Shoko sings, eyes twinkling as she looks at you with that same smile from earlier.
“There is another party happening like ten minutes away.”
“Great.”
It was far from fucking great when you pulled up in front of what was obviously a fraternity. The white house was big enough that it was basically a mansion, it had a flag with greek letters flying and the amount of people out front alone made you sick, the music loud enough that you heard it from the opposite side of the street.
You hadn’t signed up for this, you wanted no parts in it.
“Absouletly not. Take me back.”
“Stop.” Shoko’s eyes were pleading, her bottom lip poking out. “We’re already here and you promised you’d be my wingman. Wingwoman. Whatever.”
“I didn't promise shit. You said we’d be going to a sorority party, not a frat!” Your cheeks heated in irrational anger, even though you knew it wasn’t her fault.
She had no idea how much you despised fraternities but it didn’t mean you’d be going to one just because she was putting on her best puppy face, big brown eyes shining and silently begging for you to say yes.
“One hour. If you still hate it, we leave. But you’re already here, might as well give it a chance.”
You look back toward the house, your stomach twisting and heart racing a little faster. You weighed the pros and cons. If you did agree to go, you'd probably end up drinking more than you should and wake up with a nasty hangover. You’d also be breaking your promise to yourself and your sister to never step foot in a fraternity.
Maybe it was unfair that you let a handful of horror stories shape your perception of them but it wasn’t as if they came from nowhere. You had watched the news, seen the headlines. Hazing. Alcohol poisoning. Freshmen being pressured into doing things they probably never wanted to do.
Your older sister had made sure you knew exactly what kind of places to avoid when you left for college, and frat houses had been at the very top of her list.
But then again, you had waited for this moment since you got your acceptance letter. To meet new people, make new memories outside of your shitty hometown and to truly experience college life.
You were nineteen. What was the harm in going to one party? You’d appease Shoko, confirm your thoughts that frats were terrible and never step foot in one again.
One night couldn’t ruin your entire college experience. Right?
You sighed and let Shoko pull your hand until you were walking through the front door and the smell of stale booze, and musky body heat hit you, the music rattling the speakers. The living room had been stripped of anything breakable and replaced with white folding tables sticky with spilled drinks and red solo cups.
A group of guys were playing beer pong, shouting as the ball flew too far and rolled under a couch. Further into the house, a girl was setting up a karaoke machine and slurring the lyrics to the Pitbull song that was playing, almost tumbling off the table.
The scene made you itch, your feet already hurting from the heels you’d been forced to wear. You let Shoko guide you through the crowd anyways, scowling at the way a few shirtless guys eyed you like you were nothing more than a piece of candy. She led you toward the kitchen, hand wrapped tight around yours, where a group had gathered around the island counter.
A tall guy with long black hair tied back noticed you first, grinning at Shoko and holy fuck he was hot.
“Shoko, I didn’t expect to see you here!” He raises his red solo cup in the air. “And you bought a friend.”
“This is my roommate, (name).” Shoko tugs you forward until you’re standing by her side. “Be nice to her, will you? She’s already planning my funeral for bringing her here.”
He nods at you, tossing back the rest of his drink and your knees go weak because he had to be one of the hottest guys you’d ever seen in your life.
“Geto Suguru but you can call me Suguru. Any friend of Shoko’s is a friend of mine.” He sticks his hand out and you wipe yours on your dress before reaching over the island and taking his into yours.
“Nice to meet you.” You force a shaky smile, pulling your hand back.
When you ask how they know each other, Suguru explains that they went to high school together but Shoko had decided to take a gap year and travel the country.
Shoko introduces you to the rest of her friend group. There was Choso, a guy with two ponytails and a scar across his nose. His girlfriend, Yuki, was nice enough even though you were sure she was flirting with you. Nanami, who seemed entirely too sweet to be there and next to him was the human incarnation of a golden retriever, Haibara.
After introductions were over, they pulled you into a game of flip cup and you were surprisingly good at it. The satisfaction of slamming your cup down before Choso was enough to make you forget where you were, cheap booze loosening you up and allowing you to truly enjoy yourself. Even if some asshole kept bumping into your ass and forgetting to apologize.
You even let Shoko and Yuki drag you to do karaoke, stupidly singing Promiscuous and moving your hips in circles, hair loose and falling into your flushed face. You hadn’t noticed the way Suguru watched you with a smirk, arms crossed while someone whispered something in his ear.
It only took an hour for you to be reminded that frats were in fact the root of all evil, your short lived fantasy that maybe you were wrong crashing down when he decided to show up.
You felt him before you saw him, your skin tingling as you sat on the couch and nursed a headache while actively fighting the urge to throw up, half listening to the group's conversation. You had just been about to tap Shoko and invoke your one-hour rule when the energy in the room shifted. The sea of people were parting to make way for someone, a few petrified freshmen scrambling to get out of the way.
When enough people cleared, two of the most unique looking men you’d ever seen came into view.
Now let’s get one thing straight: you were far from a pick me, never had been and you never would be. However, even you weren’t immune to the rare moment of being so mesmerized by the beauty of a man that you just stare with your mouth slightly agape.
One of them had pink hair and tattoos covering his face and massive arms. He was kind of scary looking but in the hottest way possible. It was a shame he already had someone on his arm. Then there was the guy next to him, with a backwards hat that white hair slipped out of and eyes so blue they looked fake.
Your brain short-circuited for exactly half a second. Fuck. He was in fact the hottest man you’d ever seen, forget what you said earlier. Objectively. Scientifically, whatever. It wasn’t even a matter of opinion, just facts.
He was lean and tall with the face of a god, a pointy nose and full lips and you had to squeeze your thighs together when he looked in your direction, though his eyes weren’t on you.
Shoko notices you staring and smirks. “Oh right. I forgot you haven’t met Gojo yet!”
“What?” You finally blink, glaring at your friend. “I wasn’t-”
“Satoru!” Shoko waved him over. “Come here, I want you to meet someone.”
Gojo locked eyes with her and smiled, leaning to whisper something to the man he had walked in with and handing him the case of beer he was carrying before moving toward the couch you were currently gripping.
He was even more handsome up close, the smell of his cinnamon cologne cutting through the stench of sweaty bodies and alcohol. It was too bad he had to open his mouth and ruin everything.
“Shoko.” His voice vibrates through you more than the music does, and it makes you feel pathetic. Since when have you ever let a man affect you like this? “Making new friends already?”
“This is my roommate,” Shoko says, gesturing toward you and tells him your name. “Play nice.”
When he turned those big blue eyes on you, your breath got caught in your throat, his smile widening as he held out his hand. “Well hello there. I’m Satoru, sophomore and president of this fine establishment.”
Sophomore and president of an entire frat? You didn’t want to think of what kind of douchebag he had to have been to pull that off. You reluctantly shake his hand and pull it away faster than you did Suguru’s, your mouth growing sour.
“You’re a quiet one.” He plops down on the couch between you and Shoko and you feel your irritation growing, your headache picking back up, mood completely ruined just from a few words. “It’s the hair, right? Or the eyes? Most people say the eyes. I get it, I’m a lot to process.”
He throws an arm on the couch behind you, leaning back and spreading his legs just wide enough to piss you the fuck off. Fuck this guy!
“Wow,” You say flatly, moving from under his arm and turning to face him. “Do you practice being insufferable, or does it just come naturally?”
Shoko snorts into her cup while Suguru who had been sitting next to her lets out a “oh shit” under his breath. This was his and Satoru’s second year here and he had never heard anyone snap at his friend.
Gojo’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew as he leaned into your space. “Naturally. It’s a gift, but I’m sensing some hostility, sweetheart. Are you not enjoying yourself? I’m sure I can show you a better time upstairs.”
You wanted to throttle him. So this is what your sister was trying to warn you about? What a fucking idiot you were to doubt her for even a second.
“I’d rather eat glass then let you touch me.”
He simply laughs at that, moving a little closer and forcing you to awkwardly lean back, heat creeping up your neck and to your ears. He was close enough to kiss you and you were about to smack him until he smiled and moved to stand up.
“Nice to meet you, freshman. Maybe I’ll see you around, yeah?”
He disappears into the crowd and you want the floor to swallow you whole. You try to stay for the sake of your friend but each passing minute proves why you’d never show your face at these parties again.
People were passing out from how drunk they were, someone had almost thrown up on your shoes and to top it all off, loud cheers were sounding from the backyard. You were about to tell Shoko it was time to go when she started running toward the back door to see what was going on and you reluctantly followed.
The sight made your blood boil. Standing side by side was Gojo and the pink haired guy from earlier who you’d learn was Sukuna. There was a third guy with them, tall with broad shoulders, dark messy hair and a scar on his lip.
A line of freshmen boys stood at the edge of the pool, each looking paler than the last. Sukuna was barking out orders and you watched in horror as they began to take off their shirts and then their shoes and pants.
People were laughing, clapping and yelling for them to take off their underwear. You glared at the guy who said that, but he just shrugged and turned back to the show. Several phones appeared in the air despite Gojo’s threats that anyone caught recording would have them smashed.
This was so fucking sick.
The poor guys looked like they wanted the ground to swallow them whole and just when you moved to put an end to this, an arm reached out to stop you. You snapped your head up, ready to lay into the person until a familiar set of dark eyes stared down at you.
Suguru.
“Get off of me.” You say through gritted teeth, pure anger making your heart beat faster and your blood pump harder.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” He warns you and you suddenly hate him as much as his prick of a friend, snatching away from him and turning back to the scene unfolding.
Without an ounce of sympathy, Gojo clapped his hands together and nodded to the freshmen, his shorts hanging loose on his hips.
"No need to be nervous. We've all got the same equipment!”
"If you're too embarrassed to strip," The scarred lip dude shouts over the cheering crowd. "you're probably too soft to wear our letters anyway."
A little motivating glare from Sukuna who looked even less interested in preserving anyone's dignity and they were stripping off the remainder of their clothes. You stared in absolute disbelief as the first pledge squeezed his eyes shut, signaled something that looked like a prayer and canonballed into the pool completely naked.
One by one the others followed and you started to push through the crowd of students, ignoring Shoko yelling your name and evading Suguru’s attempt to grab you again.
Any microscopic chance you'd had of warming up to fraternities evaporated on the spot. These people were insane, fucking psychopaths and deserved a taste of their own medicine.
By the time you reached the pool, the pledges were climbing out of the water, shivering and red-faced as older fraternity members tossed towels in their direction. They looked humiliated, their smiles not fooling you for a second.
“Hey asshole!” You shout toward the white haired douchebag, storming up to him and gaining the attention of the crowd who started to quiet down to listen to the spectacle you were creating.
Good. Let them watch!
Gojo, who had been in the middle of laughing at something Sukuna said, looked at you and the grin spreading across his face only further annoyed you. He was so fucking hot but his personality sucked!
“Couch girl!”
You ignore him, walking until you were close enough to stick your arm out and push his chest. He hardly moved but it was enough to knock that stupid smug smirk off his face for a split second before the corner of his mouth was lifting again.
"What kind of pathetic excuse for leadership is this?" You gestured toward the soaking pledges who did their best to cover themselves with their small towels as they exchanged nervous glances. "Making them strip in front of half the campus because you think it's funny?"
“It was voluntary.” Sukuna spat, folding his arms and scowling at you, but you kept your eyes on Gojo who steps a little close to you.
“Oh please. Do you really expect me to believe a bunch of freshmen are gonna tell the people deciding if they get into this fraternity or not, ‘no’?”
When someone in the crowd yelled that you had a point, Sukuna shot them a glare from the deepest pits of hell that had them shutting up and cowering back into the crowd.
Meanwhile Gojo looked thoroughly entertained, that bastard. Not a hint of embarrassment on his face as he reaches forward and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. His carefree attitude catches you off guard and you’re dumb founded, losing yourself in his big blue eyes before snapping out of it and pushing him away again.
“You’ve known me for what..” He pulls his hand away and looks at the imaginary watch on his wrist. “Two hours and you’re already lecturing me? We're basically an old married couple already.”
Your eye twitches. You hadn’t really thought of how he would react but amusement was the furthest thing you’d expect from someone getting scolded like an insolent child.
You take a step back, not missing the way he eyes your body and your skin crawls.
“Fuck you dude! I wouldn’t let someone like you touch me with a ten foot pole, let alone let you marry me.”
He tilts his head as the crowd snickers and you grow impossibly hotter. You can feel Shoko pulling your arm but your feet are glued to the ground. It would take an act of god to get you to move before you were done saying what you had to say.
“Aww don’t be shy now. You’re making me feel self conscious too.”
The words get under your skin more than you should have let them and the look on his face, the slight glint in his eyes tells you that he knows it. Before you can rip into him, the scarred lip dude butts in, pushing between the two of you.
“Cute." He rolls his eyes. "Now either kiss or kill each other somewhere else. We've got pledges to traumatize."
You glare over his shoulder at Gojo one more time, seething at the way he winks at you, clearly finding this entire thing entertaining, before letting Shoko pull you away this time. If you saw him fifty years down the line it would still be too soon!
You had to get an uber since you and Shoko were both too tipsy to drive and you outright declined Suguru’s offer to drop you off, having had your fix of frat boys for the next century.
You rested your temple against the cool glass of the car window, nursing the dull ache forming behind your eyes while your stomach churned from the cheap vodka and lingering irritation.
Gojo Satoru.
Just thinking of his name made your jaw tighten.
He wasn't the first arrogant person you’d met. You’d known plenty in high school, cocky guys who were captains of some team or were blessed with a nice jawline and thought the world revolved around them.
Gojo surpassed all of them.
He wasn’t just cocky, but the kind of person that took everything as a joke, constantly performing and acting as if everyone around him was just a part of one big act. And the worst part about it, the part you refused to let yourself think of for more than a second because fuck that, was that he had no business looking the way he did.
It was almost offensive that someone as infuriating as him had a face that made you want to forget every sin he committed.
You would just have to try your best to stay far away from him, steer clear of frat houses, frat parties, and anywhere someone like him might possibly show up.
Later that night you and Shoko are both wide awake, laying in the dark listening to the faint sounds of the occasional car or ambulance flying by. You’re still fuming, your earlier encounter making it hard for you to find sleep.
“Hey Sho?”
“Yes?”
“If you ever invite me to anything that asshole is at again, I’ll kill you both.”
“Noted.”
That was the day you grew to hate Satoru Gojo and the day he fell in love with you.
Now here you were. Your junior year came faster than you thought it would.
In the time since you started at Jujutsu University, you joined the cheer team, made the dean’s list multiple times and built a tight knit friend group that consisted of you, Shoko, Utahime, Yuki and occasionally Suguru.
Best of all, you had mostly stuck to your promise and kept away from Gojo, with the exception of a few incidents during your sophomore year when he had decided that you would be his new target of interest. It didn’t matter that you made your disdain for him clear, he never really gave up on his desperate attempts to win you over.
One of the most memorable times was when you picked up Shoko from an invite only party and he answered the door. He was grinning, telling you that he knew you couldn’t resist him and lifting his black shades to his head, blue eyes flashing.
"This is my favorite plot twist so far."
You bit your tongue and rolled your eyes, telling him you were here for Shoko only but nothing you said would get through that massive inflated head of his.
“You were invited by the way. Why didn't you come?” He actually frowns and you fight the urge to pinch yourself because he genuinely looks like a kicked puppy and you hate the way it tugs on your heart for a split second before you remember who you’re talking to.
“Because your last party fucking sucked.”
His ticking jaw and flared nostrils were your only signs that you had finally gotten to him before he was covering it up, licking his lips and looking down at your glossed ones with a grin.
“Oh so you’re one of those girls.” He clicks his tongue, giving a dramatic shake of his head.
“Excuse me?” You cross your arms, chest already growing tight with irritation. This was supposed to be a quick pick up and somehow you ended up stuck talking to the one person you wanted to avoid.
“You know.. a judgmental stuck up bitch.”
You had smiled, pride swelling in your chest because yes.. that’s exactly what you were and you hoped that now he’d take a fucking hint and leave you alone. If you were a little meaner maybe you’d scare him away for good.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“You’re so evil.” He leans against the door frame, lowering his shades back to his face. “It’s hot, you’re just my type of girl, sweets.”
The first week of your junior year had gone great, you hadn’t seen Gojo once which was a blessing in disguise since as you would later find out, you were both majoring in psychology. Your first day of cheer practice was coming up, you and Shoko were still sharing a dorm in your third year, your professors were all amazing and you managed to score an interview for a research internship next summer.
Everything had been going in your favor.
It felt like you were on top of the world until the white haired devil himself walked into the lecture hall, dressed in a snapback, faded jeans and a football jersey. He looked out of place. Suguru was by his side as they looked for a seat and your heart was pounding as you snapped your head forward so fast it was painful, not wanting him to feel you staring.
You sunk into your seat and dipped your head.
No, no, no! What the fuck was he doing here? Did he get lost? There was no way someone like Satoru Gojo would actually be taking a psychology class without being forced into it. Suguru, maybe. Satoru? He belonged in someone's business class, maybe engineering.
There was simply no universe in which he voluntarily enrolled in social psychology.
But it didn’t matter what you thought, because he was here and you could hear him getting closer to you, his voice sending sparks down your spine. Just when you thought you were going to get lucky, the sound of a chair scraping beside you made your stomach flip.
Painfully, you turned your head just as Gojo plopped down onto the seat to your right, his cologne invading your senses. Suguru apologized as he squeezed into the thin space to slip past you, taking the seat to your left.
What a genius you were, picking a spot with two free seats on either side of you.
Fantastic. Now you were trapped and Gojo only nodded at you when you glared at him, clearly fighting a smile as he leaned back in his seat as if he’d won a battle in this silent war you’d been in for two years.
This was fine. You’d just ignore him like you always did. He thrived off of attention, so you would simply deprive him of it.
Easy enough right? That’s what you thought until he opened his mouth and you remembered just how easily he got under your skin. How good he was at provoking a reaction out of you and it didn’t help that he looked hot as fuck with his skin slightly tanned from summer break, arms and chest a little bigger.
“Would you look at that? Looks like we’re classmates now, princess.”
You tried to ignore him, really you did but whenever he was around you simply lost all sense of rationality, ten brain cells dying with every word that came out of his mouth.
“Don’t call me that.” You keep your eyes forward, trying to listen to the professor who was going over what you’d be covering this week.
“Noted, princess.”
Surprisingly, you make it through most of class without Gojo bothering you. He only looks your way once but quickly turns his head when you catch him eyeing your exposed legs and pull your skirt down, his cheek dusted a light pink.
You ignore the way you feel your ears burning from the attention, a desperate ache growing between your legs.
"Before anyone gets too comfortable, I should let you know this course revolves around a semester-long research project."
A collective groan ripples through the lecture hall but your professor smiles anyways.
"You'll be working in pairs. By the end of the semester, you'll present a research-backed analysis of interpersonal attraction and the psychological mechanisms that influence it. This isn't a project you can throw together the night before. You'll be meeting with your partner regularly throughout the term."
Partners? Fuck!
You were a smart girl, always had been but working in groups had never been your strong suit. You were hyper independent and hated relying on others to carry their weight, especially when they hardly ever did. You either ended up doing all the work yourself or none of it, there was no in between.
"To avoid everyone choosing their friends, I've paired you using a wheel spinner."
A projector illuminated the screen behind her and names began appearing in two neat columns. You leaned forward, quickly scanning for your name and when you found it, you read it again.
And again, and again until you were shaking your head no and clenching your fists.
Gojo, Satoru — [Full Name]
"...You've got to be kidding me." The words come out louder than you meant for them to, your professor looking at you with a raised brow.
“I’m afraid there will be no changes. If anyone is unsatisfied with their partner you’re welcome to make your case after class but I'm afraid my decision is final unless you are at risk of being harmed.”
Did your emotional well being count? This was disastrous, a catastrophic fuck up and you would in fact take her up on her offer and be having a word with your professor once everyone left. You’d get on your knees and beg if you had to.
Gojo’s lightly laughed beside you and you snap your head toward him with the meanest glare you can muster, eyes burning with fury.
“What could possibly be funny?”
He shrugs, biting his bottom lip and staring at your strawberry gloss covered one, not giving a fuck that you could see him checking you out. You squeeze your thighs, annoyed at the way your body was reacting to his attention, betraying you in a way that was unforgivable.
“Guess fate ships us.”
Cheer practice hadn’t gone any better. As it turned out, Gojo had joined the football team and watching him run around all sweaty with his hair sticking to his head, kicking a ball in his blue uniform, was bad for someone trying to nail down their newest routine.
The cheer gym was delayed on its remodeling and the auxiliary gym had been in use so the only free space was the football field, hence your current situation.
It was hot, and you kept fucking up your stunts, eyes lazer focused on the field, instantly finding a set of white hair whenever you got tossed in the air. He hadn’t been looking at you, instead focusing on winning the mock game between teammates.
Yet he was still a nuisance even when he wasn’t trying to be and it didn’t help that you were still fired up from your conversation with your professor from earlier. When you begged to swap places with someone else, she had told you that ‘i don’t get along with fratboys’ wasn’t a legitimate reason to switch partners and that the project was worth fifty percent of your grade so you’d better find common ground fast.
Another thing nagging at you? You had only gotten laid a handful of times in the last year. Discovering you had an abnormally high libido after losing your virginity at the end of freshman year had been rough. Every guy you tried to build something with either couldn’t last more than two rounds before tapping out or wanted something more.
You weren’t looking for a relationship, just someone to help you get off once or twice a day. Your vibrators could only do so much. You craved the real thing, but struggled to find someone who could meet your needs.
"Focus!" Your captain's voice snapped you back to reality.
You blinked, realizing you had been staring at Gojo as he power kicked the ball into the net from halfway across the field, kicking dirt up. It was hot as fuck and irritated you at the same time.
“Sorry.”
You shake your head, stepping into position and letting your bases lock their grips around your ankles before they launch you upward. The familiar rush of adrenaline hits as soon as your body lifts into the air, muscle memory taking over as you balance yourself.
You should have been focused on your counts, on the people responsible for catching you if something went wrong. What did you do instead? You let your eyes wander until they found him again, heart lurching when you saw that he was already staring at you.
He waved and even from a distance you could tell he was smirking at you, ball in his hand as he pointed at the net and lowered it back to the ground. He moved his head from side to side, looking at you one last time before kicking the ball so hard that it almost took the goalie out, slamming into the back of the net.
Your cheeks burned, the ache from earlier returning.
You were completely unaware that you were one second away from falling because your brain apparently thought watching him was more important than not breaking your neck. Stupid girl.
“Eyes up!” Your captain's voice rang through the air and you forced your gaze down, correcting your posture before your bases caught you as you landed safely.
When your feet hit the ground you exhale sharply, slightly stumbling. Gojo had gone back to playing, as if he hadn’t almost killed you by distracting you.
“Are you alright? You’ve been out of it this entire time-”
“I’m fine! Let’s go again.”
You weren’t fine. You had just discovered that your brain was your biggest enemy, betraying you with a sudden attraction to your nemesis. That psychology degree was going to be very useful, now that you needed to diagnose why Satoru had become your biggest distraction.
Remember when I said, one might wonder how you of all people ended up with Gojo between your legs? Well here’s the straw that broke your back.
With the way your day had been going, you weren’t really surprised when your shift had gone to shit within the first thirty minutes. You hadn’t even changed out of your cheer uniform and were grateful your manager was nice about it and only made you put on an apron.
You were a baker at a small shop, and while you usually only iced pastries and baked bread, the cashier had called out so you were forced to cover both positions.
After ringing up the nastiest group of teenagers, you accidentally burned an entire rack of focaccia bread and your finger in the process. Your manager was understanding and thankfully had been able to find someone to cover your shift. You weren’t happy about missing out on money but at least you could lay in your bed and relax after the shit day you had. Right?
Wrong!
Usually when Shoko has company, she texts you beforehand to let you know, so imagine your surprise when you walk into your dorm and you’re scarred for life with the sight of a random’s man ass as he fucks your friend into the mattress.
The worst part is that they don’t even notice you! No one jumps up in shock and rushes to cover themselves. They continue to fuck like animals, as if you weren’t standing in the hall in shock.
After a few seconds you realize you should probably leave, jealousy coursing through you as you slam the door and storm from the building. Even Shoko, who never showed romantic or sexual interest in anyone, was getting laid while you were barely getting by with your toys.
Fine. If you weren't going to get some rest, you could at least be productive.
The library was the perfect place to study, especially at this time of night. Most people were partying, working or if they were Shoko, getting fucked in their dorms. Libraries didn't contain drunk assholes, frat presidents trying to flirt with you or rude customers screaming at you over something you couldn’t control. It was calm. Quiet.
And closed..
You stared at the locked doors, legs aching from the walk you just took to get here, thumb still hurting from earlier. You slowly walk to the locked doors, shrugging your cheer bag over your shoulder and checking the sign posted on the front door.
CLOSED DUE TO SHORT STAFFING
The universe was working against you, repaying you for some sin you committed in a past life and deciding you weren’t even allowed one small win today. And to make matters worse, you were still in your cheer uniform and it was getting chilly out.
You blamed Gojo. All of your issues started the moment he walked into that fucking lecture hall and decided to sit next to you. You were completely distracted after that which led to a shit cheer practice, a thirty minute shift and a burnt finger, and walking in on your best friend getting fucked.
You could kill him right now and not feel an ounce of remorse, even if you logically knew it wasn’t really his fault. You had to blame someone.
You read the sign again, as if it would magically change and the library would open. It was closed and you were fucked. Simple.
Based on the rare times Shoko did bring someone to your room, it lasted a few hours but you were always at work so it had never been a problem until today.
"Unbelievable." You dropped your head back with a groan, tightening your grip on your bag and staring into the dark sky. Of course the one night you needed somewhere quiet to hide, the universe decided to laugh in your face.
You kick lightly at the pavement, annoyed at yourself more than anyone else. If you hadn’t cut off the last guy you had been sleeping with just because he tried to invite you to a frat party, maybe you’d also be getting fucked right now.
It was your own fault really. You were too stubborn for your own good, your mother would tell you. “No one will want to put up with your high demands.” as if you hadn’t gotten that trait from her. That was fine. You didn’t need anything more from a man than sex, but no one had been able to match your high drive.
“I just need…” You look at the door again, tugging the handle just in case someone had forgotten to take down the sign.
Locked.
“God dammit!”
A laugh sounded from behind you and you froze, knowing exactly who it was without even turning around. Apparently the universe hadn't finished ruining your night yet. Yay, you.
“Rough night?”
You ball your fists and take a deep breath, counting to three and fighting back tears of frustration. When you turned around, you took in a sharp breath at the sight in front of you.
Gojo was holding a textbook under his arm and wearing a brown cardigan with a blue shirt underneath, light beige pants and were those..
He was wearing glasses. Not shades but bulky glasses that made him look kinda nerdy and the sight had the hair on your arms standings and your pupils expanding. He looked like a completely different person but you could tell it was him from the signature smirk he wore.
He stares at you with a titled head and you swallow the spit forming in your mouth. You weren’t seriously thirsty over Gojo right now, right? I mean, you knew you were sex deprived but he was everything you stood against so why were you staring at him like he was the best thing to walk the earth since Jesus himself?
“What are you doing here?”
“Came to study. Crazy concept, right?”
Your hand tightens around the handle of your bag, eyes drifting back to the textbook he was holding, though that was far from what you were staring at. Since when did Gojo have such huge hands and why were you attracted to his veins protruding as he grips the book?
“For you, yeah.”
“Ouch.” He laughs, soft and gentle and the sound has your pussy clenching against nothing. No fucking way was your body betraying you right now. You had never in your life clenched at a laugh, nor grown wet at the sight of someone and yet it was happening no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.
Gojo hadn’t even touched you, nor made any kind of sexual joke like he typically would and yet you were acting like a cat in heat.
“You really think so little of me? I’m kind of heartbroken.”
Yes. But you don’t say it, just look back at the dark building in defeat. Gojo notices and looks over your shoulder, his own sagging as he mumbles something you can’t understand.
“That’s unfortunate. You need somewhere to study, sweets? We can go to my place.”
You’re turning to him so fast your head spins, shoulders stiff as you prepare to lay into him but he beats you before you can even open your mouth, hands come up defensively.
“Not at the frat, I only live there part time. I have an apartment off campus, and a desk we can use.”
He waits for you to say something before giving up and sighing in exhaustion. You could tell he was annoyed but you didn’t care. If he was going to try to get you back to his place, he’d have to try a little harder than whatever this was.
“We should probably study together anyways right? You know, since we’re partners now..”
You should have said no, told him to fuck off but he did have a point. The library was closed, your roommate was otherwise occupied, and the faster you and Gojo finished your project, the sooner you’d never have to see each other again.
"One hour."
His grin appeared immediately as he held his free hand out to you. "Knew you couldn't resist me."
You scuff and move past him, getting into the passenger seat and making sure you glared out the window the entire ride there.
Gojo didn’t live far, no more than twenty minutes away from campus and you were grateful. Being in an enclosed space with him was hard enough, especially since the entire thing smelled of that cinnamon cologne that drove you crazy.
He tried to talk to you. About football practice, the assignment, the terrible song on the radio, anything to hear your voice but you were dead set on ignoring him, answering in low grunts and one word responses.
“The uniform is hot by the way. Had no idea you were a cheerleader, but I can’t say I mind watching you while I practice. The next time you want my attention though, just ask. No need to risk cracking your head open just to look at me.”
You’re insulted, face burning but you won’t feed into this petty spat he clearly wants to have. In the two years you’ve known him and the times you had to suffer his presence, you came to learn that everything he said was to get a reaction out of you.
Not this time.
“Gojo?”
“Yes, princess?”
“Shut up.”
Gojo’s apartment smelled like expensive air freshener and a faint trace of weed he swore he didn’t smoke anymore and it was from Sukuna and Suguru who had been over earlier. You ignored him, dropping your bag on the living room floor and looking around.
It was nice. Not spotless but cleaner than you thought it would be. Most of the furniture, you noticed, was black. His couch, the tables and chairs, even the curtains.
A stack of textbooks sat on his coffee table alongside a half-empty sports drink and what looked like a few polaroids. You move to get a better look but before you can really see anything, Gojo brushes past you and snatches them.
“Tsk, nosey girl.” He clicks his tongue and moves toward the kitchen. “Do you want anything?”
An hour later, you’re full off the takeout food Gojo got delivered and knee deep in your studies. You try to ignore the fact that the desk you’re sitting at is in his fucking bedroom but if he wasn’t overreacting to it then you weren’t going to either.
The last thing you needed right now was for Gojo to get distracted. He had actually been focusing on the project, refraining from making any crude comments or staring at your breast though you’d caught him looking at your bare legs once.
"Interpersonal attraction refers to the positive feeling one person forms toward another,'" You were sitting together at his desk as he read aloud from the textbook while you took notes. "'Researchers generally agree attraction develops through a combination of biological, cognitive, behavioral, and environmental factors.'"
You typed the definition into your outline while he skimmed farther down.
"'Repeated exposure to an individual tends to increase positive feelings toward them, even in the absence of meaningful interaction.'"
You don’t miss the way he lets his shoulder bump into yours, body moving an inch closer to yours. You have to squeeze your legs and bite back the moan creeping up your throat. He was still wearing the glasses, claiming his contacts were drying his eyes and that you would have known he wore them if you spent more than five minutes around him without ripping his head off.
You clear your throat and lean your body the opposite way. "The mere exposure effect."
"Mhmm. Which basically means people annoy each other until they fall in love."
Your fingers paused over the keyboard, slightly shaking as you look over at him. He was already staring, having moved closer to you again. The desk was big enough to hold both your laptops but small enough that you still invaded each other's space, his trick of turning his chair to face you doing nothing now that his knees brushed against the side of your thigh.
He was reaching a hand out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and you didn’t stop him, didn’t yell at him to fuck off. You just sat there, breathless, mind trying to process what was happening as he frowned at your lip tucked between your teeth.
"That’s not what it says." You whisper and he leans in closer, the corner of his mouth tugging in a small smile, eyes soft behind his glasses.
Gojo had been a thorn in your side since freshman year. He was everything you hated: arrogant, a fratboy, rich nepo baby, and a massive fuckboy that played with girls' hearts like they were toys meant for his entertainment.
But he was also infuriatingly smart when he bothered to try, and right now, he was watching you with an intensity that made your skin prickle and your pussy grow wet.
“Sure, whatever my princess says.” His voice is sultry and low as he reaches a hand out again to rubs his thumb on your lower lip, pulling it out before letting go.
You swallow hard, butterflies fluttering in your belly. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re tense.” He lets his hand travel to your shoulder, slow enough so that you could pull away, and when you don’t, he continues tracing your exposed collarbone, toying with the v-neck of your top.
“You’ve hated me for three years. That takes a lot of passion, ever wonder why you care so much?”
You opened your mouth to yell at him, to defend yourself against what he was implying because you had plenty of reasons to hate him but couldn’t think of any at this moment. Your brain was short circuiting and it was humiliating.
“I don’t care.” You manage to spit out.
Gojo’s eyes darkened, his grin fading. “Liar.”
His other hand slid up your thigh, creeping under your skirt and still, you didn't move away. Instead you decided to embarrass yourself even further and spread your legs to give him easier access.
“The chapter says physical attraction can override rational judgment. Maybe that’s what’s happening here. You claim I'm an asshole but you’re still sitting in my room, letting me touch you.”
“I’m-, oh!” You cry when he hovers over your clothed cunt, barely touching it and you’re bucking against him for more. So pathetic, so stupid. “I’m merely analyzing the s-subject matter.”
“Yeah, princess? Let’s put that theory to the test. I’ll keep touching you..” He turns your chair toward him, ignoring the way you gasp and glare at him for the loss of contact. He pulls it closer, the legs scrapping against the floorboard.
“And we’ll see if your rational judgment kicks in.”
He taps your thigh and you lift your hips as he pulls your panties down and tosses them over his shoulder. He’s spreading your legs again, further this time and he doesn’t waste a moment. His fingers are rubbing against your slit and you toss your head onto the back of the chair, hips shaking as you whine into his hand.
Gojo moved to kneel in front of you, his middle finger slipping between your folds and nudging at your entrance. When you looked down at him, entire body on fire, he was staring up at you as if looking for your approval.
Obviously grinding against him like a desperate whore wasn’t enough. No, Gojo wanted to hear you, to humiliate you and mock you for all the shit you had given him just to let him finger you when you should have been working on your project.
“Use your words or I'll stop.” He goes to pull his fingers away and your heart lurches.
The last thing you wanted was to beg him of all people but you were too far gone to not get something out of this. So you swallow your pride and nod.
“Keep going, you fucking jerk.”
He chuckles and grabs your thighs, placing them both over his shoulders. “I’m about to eat your pussy and you still can’t be nice to me.”
You don’t respond and he’s pushing his middle and index fingers through your neglected hole, not giving you any time to adjust before leaning down and taking your clit in his mouth.
“Satoru!” You cry out his name and the sound of coming from your lips has him groaning against you and closing his eyes to savor it.
You reach a hang out to grab his hair, looking down and clenching around his fingers because the way he has his head under your skirt is so fucking hot you think you might cum on the spot. He was so hungry for you that he didn’t even properly undress you, greedy man that he was.
His fingers curl inside of you, pumping a little faster as he licks up and down your slit, stopping to suck on your clit each time he passes it. When you try to close your legs, he grabs your thigh with his free hand and pulls it further open.
“Mmff, shtay righ' there.” He mumbles against your pussy, wrapping his lips back around your clit and sucking hard, using his teeth to lightly nibble and you’re leaking so much you can feel it dripping down your thighs.
This wasn’t the kind of research you had been expecting to do but you would accept it just this once, for the sake of your grade of course. This is also the longest he’s ever been quiet in your presence and if you had known that he was such a good pussy eater you would have put his mouth to use long ago.
‘Haaah, go deeper, I- oh god, nggghh I need more!” You grind against his face harder, gripping his hair and pulling him closer.
He just moans encouragingly, burying his fingers knuckles deep and fucking you dumb with them. Your squishy walls contracted around his fingers and with the next curl of them, you were wrapping your legs around his head and cumming so hard that your vision turned white, orgasm stealing your sight while you buck wildly against his face.
You were making a huge mess but Gojo didn’t seem to mind, licking you through it and only slowing his fingers when your legs dropped. He placed a kiss on your pussy before pulling from under your skirt and sucking on his fingers, looking right up at you.
His glasses were crooked, face glistening with your release and his cheeks were flushed red. Your chest heaved up and down dramatically as you fought to breathe properly again.
You couldn't remember the last time you came that hard and irritated you, made you crave more but you could never let him touch you again. This was a mistake, a serious lapse of judgement and yet you still needed more, your pussy already coming back to life.
You quickly stand and pull your skirt down, legs weak as you move around Gojo to find your panties, mortified at your own feelings right now. You just let a frat president go down on you and now you were thinking of how he would fuck you?
Clearly you weren’t in the right state of mind.
“You’re not tired of running away from me yet?” Gojo snaps, all sense of playfulness gone.
He was annoyed, you could hear it in his voice. Not that you cared but he was your ride here so you might as well appease him a little, right?
“I’m not running!” You yell, fingers digging into your palms. You were so beyond angry with yourself, disappointed that you got this far without falling into his den and now here you were. “I got what I wanted, the theory was correct but I think this study session has lasted longer than it should have.”
He looks at you in disbelief, taking his glasses off with a sigh and setting them on the desk before walking over to you, running his hand through his messy hair.
You were frozen. Every rational part of your brain screamed at you to shove him away and walk out. But your body was humming, and the way he looked at you made you want more.
He hovered over you, grabbing your chin and titling your head back so he can look you in the eyes, his other hand on your hip and playing with the waistband of your skirt.
“I can tell you haven’t been touched properly in a long time. Why do you insist on pretending like you don’t feel this pull between us, even if we hate each other?”
“You hate me?” Your lip twitches. While you can confidently say you despised him, he never gave the impression that he felt the same unless he had some sick way of showing it.
Gojo frowns and you hate how beautiful he looks. “No, never. I do want to fuck you though, so maybe we can help each other out.”
He pulls your skirt down just a little, fingers rubbing at the skin on your hip and sending a shiver through your body.
“Kind of like.. an arrangement. You can keep on hating me in public but in this room, I get to fuck you for as long as I want. Call it research for our project. Deal?”
You take a minute to think about it.
You were still seething at yourself for letting him touch. This meant nothing, you still hated him but even you had needs that needed to be met and if Gojo made you cum that hard from his fingers and tongue, you had to know what his cock could do.
“Fine, but I should warn you that I have a really high libido that most men can’t keep up with. If it’s too much I’ll just find-”
He cuts you off with a laugh, grabbing your hips and pulling you close enough that you feel his rock hard cock twitching against your stomach. He grabs the back on your neck and squeezes until you’re looking up at him again.
“You just haven’t been with a real man yet, princess. But don’t worry, I'll take real good care of you. Now take off your fucking clothes.”
You bite your tongue, resisting the urge to ask who he was talking to and at the same time, kicking yourself because you kind of liked it.
“Safe word?” He asked, unbuttoning his pants and stepping out them, his bulge huge against his white boxers, a small wet spot sitting on the front of them.
You roll your eyes and lift your shirt off, then your skirt. “We’re not children. Our safe words are stop and no.”
He nods and pulls his cardigan off and then the shirt underneath. Holy fucking sleeper build. Gojo was ripped but you’d never be able to tell under the clothes he wears. You’re taken aback by just how attractive he was, remembering the day you first saw him and how he was ten times hotter now.
Still a fratboy, still a prick but even you couldn't deny that he was one of the most stunning humans out there. Kind of otherworldly if you thought about it long enough.
“How about kissing? You cool with that, orrr?” He asks while pulling his boxers down and stepping out of them, his cock hitting his stomach and it was definitely the biggest one you’d ever seen. Thick and pulsing, pre leaking from the mushroom tip.
“Off limits. We’re strictly enemies with benefits, nothing more.”
There was no need to make this more difficult than it already was. You were beating yourself up for even being attracted to him, then to add kissing on top of that? You needed to save a shred of your dignity so you would be keeping your kisses.
“Fine, and we always use condoms. Not trying to be a dad in college like Toji. And no whining.”
You nod in agreement even though you were on birth control, snapping your bra off and tossing it, letting Gojo admire you and relishing in the way he looks like a lovestruck fool, hearts basically bursting in his eyes.
You don’t give him long, moving to climb on his bed and lay on your back. Your body was tight with need and you hadn’t even realized what you were doing, spreading your legs and playing with your pussy.
Gojo stands by the side of the bed and watches you as he reaches into the nightstand for a condom, using his teeth to rip it open and stroking it on.
You feel the bed dip first, his body climbing between yours, using his legs to nudge yours further open and then the heat of his cock pressing against your thigh.
“Fuck, you look so perfect.”
You open your eyes and if you didn’t hate him you’d say the same thing. His white hair messy on his head, the longer pieces falling into his bright blue eyes. His body was perfect, his shoulders not too broad but muscular, his waist thinner.
“Whatever, just fuck me.” You huff and in a blink he’s smacking his cock on your pussy then lining himself up with your entrance.
His heat engulfs you when he lays over your body, tapping your thigh so you wrap your leg around his waist.
He places his forehead on yours and smiles as sweetly as possible, one hand digging into the bed above your head to hold him up, the other placed on your hip.
“Ready?” He nudges your nose, gripping the sheets to stop himself from kissing you.
You bit your lip and nod, before stopping and pushing at his chest when he starts to nudge the tip in. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll ruin your life.”
He rolls his eyes, swallowing the words ‘you already have’. “Sure, now can I fuck you?”
When he pushes the first few inches in, you gasp from the sting and before you can stop him he’s leaning down and pressing his soft lips against yours to quiet you.
He squeezes your hip and with one more brutal thrust, he was inside you, filling you to the hilt in one go. You cried into his mouth and he swallowed it, your back arching off the bed as he bottomed out, his balls pressing against your ass. He was almost too big, stretching you in ways that should’ve been painful but wasn’t.
He was the perfect fit, just what you had been looking for, the tip of his cock pressing deliciously against your cervix.
“Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned, pulling back to look at you before slamming into you again. And again, his hips pistoned against yours, each snap of his pelvis driving him deeper and grinding onto your clit, your toes curling from the intense pleasure.
“Satoru! Huuuh, yes, fuck me just like that!” You tighten your legs around his waist, moving your hips up to meet his.
You clawed at his back, your nails leaving red marks as he fucked you like he hated you. Like he wanted to ruin you and punish you for making him wait years to do this. And god, did you love it.
“Harder,” you gasped.
He laughed darkly, gripping your throat just enough to make your vision swim. “You want it rough, baby? S-shit! You want me to fuck you like the enemy that you are?”
“Yes Satoru! P-please.”
In a flash he was flipping you over, placing you on your hands and knees and slamming back into you before you could catch your breath. Your ass was in the air and he pushed your head down until it was flat on the mattress, his hands tight on your waist as he pounded into you, his hips snapping against yours with a bruising force.
Thank god he had his own place because each thrust had the bed rocking and sent a jolt of hot pleasure through you, your pussy clench around him and making obscene wet squelching noises that only fueled his hunger for you.
Gojo picked up his pace, veiny cock rubbing against your walls and he wished he could feel your raw pussy, wanted to stuff you full of his cum but he knew better so he ignored his instinct and focused on fucking you.
The cries you let slip out are music to his ears, a song he wanted to hear every fucking day but he would settle for tonight, for now. He leans forward and fucks into you harder, hand squeezing your boob and twisting your nipples, pinching and pulling until you’re whimpering, tears pooling down your face.
“Didn’t I say no whining? Be a good girl, princess.”
You don’t hear what he’s saying, too drunk on his cock as he fucks you stupid, drool spilling from your mouth and onto the sheet. The sight has Gojo groaning, his balls tightening as he splits you open on his cock and fucks you stupid.
“Shit, look at you. All fucked out. Fucking take it baby. Take my cock like a good cum slut.”
His words have you shaking violently with your second orgasm, eyes rolled back as he fucked you through it, squirting heavy on his cock and making a beautiful mess.
“Never letting anyone fuck you again.” He pushes you further onto the bed, your stomach flat against the mattress as he grinds deep into you, completely dominating you, his hands gripping the sheets above you. “This is mine, say it’s my pussy, baby. Tell me you belong to me-fuck-haaah.”
You don’t answer but the way you’re crying for more is enough to satisfy Gojo and he’s filling the condom with white hot cum, gasping as wave after wave of pleasure rocks him, his hips twitching as he empties himself into the latex.
He gives sloppy, lazy thrusts as he rides it out, pushing deep into you one last time before pulling out and falling onto his back next to you. While you come back down to earth, he’s ripping the condom off, tying it and tossing it into the trash before reaching for another one.
Before you know it, he’s rolling it and pulling you onto his lap, lining himself up and pulling you down onto his cock while pushing up into you, fingers digging into your hips.
“Ready for round two?” He smirks when you start to move despite still trying to remember how to breathe properly.
He doesn’t stop after that, keeps fucking you until you’re on the verge of passing out, body weak and shaking but still wanting more.
“What number are we at now, four? Come on, princess. Gimme another one, I know you can do it. Gotta get to five, it’s my favorite number.”
Holy shit.. Gojo was everything you had been looking for in a sexual partner. You had been fucking for two hours now and yet he still has the energy of a man running on spite and arrogance.
It was almost comical. You were a fucking goddess, you could get anyone you wanted, any man would be lucky to have you. Yet the only one who seemed to know how to satisfy you was the one guy you couldn’t stand.
Not that any of that mattered when he had you riding his cock, again, your pussy swollen from how hard he’d been fucking you without tiring. Your clit was overstimulated but he kept rubbing it anyway, your back arching as you felt the pressure building in your belly again.
“C-can’t Toru’” You slurred, drooling dripping down your chin, your face completely wet with tears, makeup long ruined.
“I believe in you, baby.” He smacks your ass hard and then does it again just to watch the way you jump. “Look at you, taking me so well. S’proud of you babe.”
You ignore the pet name, ass on fire and too close to cumming for the fifth time to argue with him over it.His hands grip your hips, pulling you up and down on his cock. You twirled your hips, spelling your name out as you fucked him back, body aching from the intense fuck session.
It wasn’t long before you were grinding harder against Gojo’s pelvis and squirting on him again, fingers pressing into his shoulders as he fell over the edge with you. Pushing himself up and throwing his head back with a roar, legs stretching out as he pumped a thick load of cum into condom.
You move up and down as much as you can, helping him finish his orgasm before collapsing against his chest. Gojo wraps his long arms around you, cock still seated inside you as you both fight to breathe, sweaty bodies sticking together, eyes droopy with exhaustion.
What a fucking night.
You would one hundred percent be fucking him again, even if it was just until you found someone you could tolerate outside of the bedroom. As for now, Gojo was the only one that could tame the fire inside of you and fuck did you hate to admit that.
You can feel his heart beating against your own, his hand rubbing up and down spine, lips kissing the side of your head. As reality comes back to you, you freeze before pushing yourself off him and laying next to him on the bed.
You ignore the hurt look on his face.
“Wanna shower with me?” Gojo asks, sitting up and pushing his hair from his forehead, looking at you over his shoulder with cloudy eyes.
“Seperate.” You don’t even look at him. Way to flip the script on him, he was usually the one ignoring girls after getting what he wanted.
He nods and goes through his drawer before finding a pair of sweatpants to put on, the obvious bulge of his still hard cock making your pulse jump.
He goes into the bathroom connected to his room and you hear the shower turn on before he comes back out and tosses you a towel. You can tell he’s upset but you ignore it. He wasn’t your man, it wasn't your problem.
After you wash your body and your hair, you find that he’s left you a pair of shorts and a shirt on the bed. When he comes back in the room and sees you dressed in his clothes, the size of it swallowing you, his heart damn near stops and you see the way he swallows the lump in his throat.
He clears his throat and smiles at you, slowly walking toward you and your body goes cold when he places his hand on your cheek and leans down to kiss your forehead.
That was the second time he broke your rule and the second time you didn’t correct him.
“Stay. I’ll bring you home in the morning, I can take the couch.”
You nod your head ok, lost for words and he simply nods and moves past you to take his shower.
Later that night you toss and turn before giving up and laying on your back, staring at the ceiling in the nearly dark room, drumming your fingers on your stomach. You sometimes had nights where you just couldn’t sleep no matter what you did and it seems tonight was one of those nights.
You’re still sore between your legs, a reminder that you went back on your word and let Gojo fuck you. You didn’t regret, even had plans on doing it again but that didn’t mean you weren’t angry with yourself. More so because you smelled just like him after using his soap.
He just knew all the right places to touch you, all the best ways to make you cum harder than you did the time before, his cock fitting so perfectly inside of you. It was a shame he had the personality of a walnut.
When you finally turn on your side to go to sleep, eyes burning from exhaustion, you feel the bed dip behind you and strong arms wrap around you.
You try to squirm out of Gojo’s grip but he tightens his arms around you, pulling you until your ass is flush against his hard cock, his chin tucked atop your head.
“Gojo.. we need to sleep, we have class tomorrow.”
“So I’m only Satoru when I fuck you? Wicked girl.” He leans down to kiss your neck and you let him, again, feeling your clit grow erect and that ache return.
“That’s your name isn’t it?” You huff out, moving your hips back against him.
He ignores you, hand going to your hip you pull you close as he grinds into you, slipping yours and his pants down. He quickly puts on a condom before pushing into you, bottoming out in one thrust, hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet.
“Gonna fuck you until you only know Satoru.. You know, my favorite number is actually six.”
You may have bitten off more than you could chew.
❦ lisa's note: sorry about the pledge scene 🥲 I wanted to show how frats are and needed you to truly hate them. promise I'll make up for it!
frat!kuna is a reward based learner (shy tutor!reader)
this was not how you normally held tutoring sessions: legs tangled in the sheets, sweat slick between your bodies, and not a single piece of clothing on. yeah, this had to be a first.
sukuna’s face was covered in your slick, and by the looks of it, he wanted even more. he buried his face between your thighs for the nth time, and you tugged at his hair in protest.
“no! you need to answer another question first!” you said sternly. or at least, you tried to. you felt the gentle kitten licks he was leaving on your cunt and you folded at his touch. within seconds, you forgot what you were scolding him about, and he forced your thighs apart once more. he mumbled something against your skin, before kissing your thigh.
“hit me.” he said with a smirk. he was doing this on purpose. ignoring your urges to get back on track, only entertaining them when he had you like this—melting like putty in his hands, completely out of it and with only him on your mind.
“t-the probably of the…” your mind went blank on the problem as he pressed a kiss to your pussy before diving in again. you cried his name out as he lapped at your wet folds, thighs trembling as another orgasm threatened to crash over you. he bullied your poor cunt with his tongue, grunting and groaning as if he was in your place. just as you were about to reach the edge, he pulled away and laid on his stomach before you.
“sorry you know me, i tend to get distracted easily… you were saying?” sukuna took in your current state: pupils blown wide, chest heaving, and a look of hurt and confusion crossing your cute face. he immediately felt guilty and apologized.
“i’m sorry, that was fucked up of me. do you want me to keep going?” his eyes searched yours frantically, like he was panicking.
you averted your eyes. you were torn. you needed to actually make use of this session so it wouldn’t be all for nothing…but the way he went down on you felt heavenly. he was scarily good at it, making you feel so good, reaching places you didn’t even know existed, all with just his tongue.
“no pressure, we can go back to studying too. i’m fine with whatever.” he reassured you.
maybe it was the denial of orgasm. maybe you just weren’t in the best position to be responsible right now. whatever it was, you leaned forward and pulled him closer with smile.
“one more. just one ‘kuna.” you cupped his cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. he grinned and raised an eyebrow at you.
“you wanna ask me a question first, don’t you…” he asked reluctantly, leaning into your touch. you giggled and nodded.
“mhm!” he was catching on quite fast. at this rate, he could be the tutor next…
he groaned, but the smile never left face. “alright, ask me it.”
“is weight qualitative or quantitative data?”
“obviously it’s quantitative,” it was his turn to narrow his eyes at you, “did you seriously ask me an easy one on purpose?”
“err… maybe?” you replied all innocently, already spreading your legs wider for him.
“that’s cheating.” he scoffed, but inched forward anyway.
⡴ gym teacher!sukuna has an embarrassingly known crush on school nurse!reader
lowkey wanna turn this into a full oneshot
if he heard one more twelve year old’s squeaky voice whispering to one another, saying he’s ‘got a crush on the school nurse’ he swears he’s gonna write up the whole grade.
god, it’s even worse when one of the eighth grade girls come up to him when he’s on lunch duty.
“mr., mr. ! did you know the nurse mentioned she likes tall guys when i went into her room for a tylenol !”
“what does that have to do with me ?” he grumbles, scrunching his face while the girl and her friend stare up at him.
“well everyone knows you like like her—”
“GO SIT DOWN!”
he swears the whole lunchroom conveniently goes quiet when he yells that as the girls squirm away back to their tables and start whispering around gossip.
and even worse than the girls that draw hearts around you and sukuna’s staff photos next to eachother in the main office, he’s got gojo. gojo, who ships you two and nags him like worse-than a middle school girl. gojo, who shoves you two together for any school event.
“what game do you have planned for tomorrow?” you ask, leaning over to whisper to sukuna as eighth grade awards are called for each subject, timing claps inbetween your words while names are called. you smirk, “how many kids am i gonna have sent my way next time?”
“just dodgeball.” he leans down to whisper flatly against your ear, still staring down a kid giggling in the seating rows of the auditorium and effectively getting him to stop with his gaze.
“your version of dodgeball is basically to the death, i might have to have paramedics in my room on standby.” you joke, turning to smile at him so sweetly. in his mind, this counts as him making you laugh and therefore counts as a win.
he chuckles lightly, just a quick huff of his chest, but essentially the hardest he can laugh if he’s not looking at a kid getting tackled in class. “these kids will toughen up eventually, i am just teaching them to do it early.”
“were you a weak kid that needed to toughen up? i can really only picture you as a big scary dude.”
“i was actually a severely malnourished child due to my mothers impoverished state during her pregnancy.“ he says, truly not realizing how solemn he sounds in his voice even as he means it as a light hearted jest.
you blink at him, face contorted in confusion and awkwardness. he wants to hit himself.
the only thing that saves him from not saying anything stupid again is the end of the assembly, marked by gojo yelling into a megaphone and for kids to round up by homeroom.
the following week he’s still embarrassed to even look you in the eyes. he’s mulling over how stupid he must’ve looked infront of you while sifting through the equipment closet.
he hears steps echo throughout the currently empty gym before he yells out.
“gojo i’m not covering your lunch break, fuck off—” he turns around to not see the usual suspect he finds during his free period. instead, he sees you, leaning against the door in scrubs and white coat clinging to your body. he stills in his motion.
you speak before he can (if he can speak at all in his embarrassed state).
“i understand the confusion, he bothers me all the time too.” you dismiss, smiling at him with your glossed lips he probably thinks about hourly. waitwaitwait, gojo talks to you all the time ? he’s going to kill that lanky fuck. “just wanted to drop these off for yuri in your next period.” you jostle around a pill bottle in your hand, “she can get fainty on gym days so give these to her just in case to help prevent that.” he knows it’s your job and all, but your concern is honestly kinda cute.
“uhh yeah i’ll be sure to.” he nods, right as you drop the bottle on top of a stack of rubber cones by the door before you walk out. and he would just like it to be known he definitely didn’t stare at your ass as you left.
and he typically makes it easier for himself to deny how down bad he is to you, but now, after you spent a week of saved up sick days out last week, he’s kind of craving your voice. so who can blame him when he calls his 6th grade nephew into his office while he’s supposed to be at lunch.
“look, kid. i’m going to need you to do something, and i’m gonna need you to not be annoying about it, kay?”
yuji furrows his brows, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.
“you,” he gestures to his nephew, “are going to act like you collapsed and let me bring you up to the school nurse. you are then going to be quiet when i talk to her.”
“is it cause you have a crush on her—”
sukuna tenses before cutting him off.
“do a good job acting and i will consider buying you that human earthworm blu-ray. do you hear me, brat?”
yuji’s eyes light up at the mention of the dvd.
“is this impression good enough then?” yuji leans and clutches at his side in fake fatigue while moaning dramatically for help, then immediately straightens up with a smile like he’s waiting for a rating. sukuna shakes his head and genuinely wonders how he’s related to this—in sukuna’s words— pea brained doofus.
he dials your number on his offices phone, sitting tense in his chair while he shh’s yuji. yuji nods and salutes as sukuna continues to roll his eyes.
yuji could’ve sworn he saw him smile when you pick up. he continues to watch sukuna fiddle with the curled wire of the phone as he explains yuji’s apparently dire situation. he can just barely hear the muffled sound of you saying ‘just bring him up and i’ll check him out.” over the speaker of the phone before sukuna hangs up and fixes his hair.
sukuna walks out the door and desperately tries to ignore yuji’s terrible post fainting impression behind him as his nephew follows his step to your room.
just before they step into your room he whispers to yuji as he leans over.
“if you can bring up me being single i’ll take you out for ice cream, brat.”
Firefighter!Sukuna who starts believing in miracles when you slide him your phone number under the guise of prescription, dainty fingers wrapped around his wrist, feeling his pulse before you pulled away, leaving behind a tingling on his skin.
He wouldn't say it out loud but he did sniff his wrist like a dog in the privacy of his own home.
Firefighter!Sukuna who somehow managed to land a date with you, between horrible typos and genuine spelling mistakes you still somehow thought he was worthy of dating.
Firefighter!Sukuna who sits opposite to you in the cafe booth, fingers fidgeting with the napkin beside his plate as you scanned the menu.
"Have you been here before?" You looked up, soft eyes meeting his widened ones, "do you have any recommendations?"
"Water's good." Sukuna blurted out, tip of his ears turning red as he simultaneously registered your question and his own response, "I mean like, it's crispy and hydrating, I don't drink—sorry I haven't been here before."
Firefighter!Sukuna who dreadfully waits for you to realise how much of a loser he is and walk away.
From his jumbled words to clumsy hands nearly dropping a jug full of water in your lap, he was sure you'd block him by the end of the night.
Firefighter!Sukuna who is pleasantly surprised to somehow find himself at you apartment, your fingers tugging his collar as you desperately claimed his mouth, heels digging into the back of his thighs from where he had you pressed against the door.
He squeezed your thighs, pulling away from your lips to scan your apartment, eyes searching for way to your bedroom, afterall he had been here few weeks ago.
"It's the one in far left." You mumbled against his throat, lapping up at his bobbing adams apple, arms tightening around his neck as he stepped into the living space, "wait, take off your clothes."
"Here?" Sukuna looked into your open living room, gently letting go of your body as your feet settled on the ground, watching as you haphazardly tucked at he straps of your sundress, plush tits spilling over the collar as you pushed it down, "You want to have sex here?"
You stop stripping, eyes wide as you turn around to look at the space available, before continuing to shimmy out of your dress, "later, let's get to bedroom first."
Firefighter!Sukuna who feels precum oozing out of his tip at the mere thought of later, he followed your lead, clumsily stripping down to his underwear, eyes locked on the way you casually slid your panties off, strutting your way to the bedroom.
He slowly followed you inside, cheeks red as he took in the way you had decorated your room, warmth blooming in his belly at the thought of being in your space.
"Come, wash your hands." You tilted your head towards the bathroom, wetting your hands before pumping out handwash, expectedly waiting for him to join you.
Confusion painted his features but he still abided by your request, naked and horny and washing his hands.
"You are about to put your hands on and in me, I want them clean."
Oh. Oh.
Firefighter!Sukuna who goes one step ahead, hands curling so he could fill them with water, before splashing it on his face, making sure to rub around his mouth twice.
You watch him in curiosity, eyes sparkling as he wipes his face dry with one of the towels you handed him.
"I wanted to, you know." He gestured vaguely with his hand, when he spotted your raised eyebrow, he elaborated further, "I wanted to eat your pussy too."
Firefighter!Sukuna who is surprised when you, quite literally jumped his bones, face flushed as you pushed him onto the bed, crawling between his legs to smother his face with kisses.
Firefighter!Sukuna who leaned over your body, hand wrapped around his thick cock as you spread your pussy.
He tapped the tip of his cock against your clit, relishing in the way you squirmed, hips weakly rutting upwards, chasing his fleeting touches.
Momentarily, he visualised the water hose, weirdly comparing his cock to it, after all he was about to extinguish the fire in your bell—
He was probably daydreaming for too long, when your voice brought him back to the bedroom.
"Still with me, 'Kuna?" You mumbled, reaching up to cradle his jaw, eyes soft as you pecked the corner of his mouth. "What are you thinking about?"
Firefighter!Sukuna who groaned, eyes screwed shut as tried to find a way to explain to you his analogy without sounding—insane.
And you are looking up at him so—tenderly, eyes soft and worried, brows furrowed, and then his gaze drifts lower, pebbled nipples and love bites littered on your sternum and lower where you pussy waits in anticipation, so wet.
And the his dick—the hose.
"Your pussy, my dic—the fire," he stammered, dread pulling in his stomach as the furrow between your brows deepens, you are trying your best to understand him, "i am stupid." He huffed helplessly, arm bending at the elbows as he leaned down, pressing his chest against yours, cock smushed against your pussy, drawing a gasp from your pretty lips. "Shi—sorry."
"Move 'Kuna," You pushed slightly against his toned belly, reaching between your bodies to surl your fingers around his length, feeling him shudder against your grasp, "don't tease me now." You pouted, aligning his tip with your entrance, smearing his precum messily over your folds.
Firefighter!Sukuna who pushed past his thoughts and focuses on you, the spasming of your walls as his tip pushes past the entrance, the arching of your back as you accomodate to his girth, the way your hand hovers over your clit, not yet touching because he knows you'll cum too fast if you did.
He steadied himself over you, breath fanning on your cheeks as he reached between your bodies with his free hand, gently guiding your hand around his neck, before trailing back down.
Pulling out, he rubbed his thumb across your entrance, gathering slick before guiding his cock back inside, smearing the fluid on your clit, thumb rough and pressured against your tender bud.
"Kuna—" You moaned, trembling in his hold, completely at his mercy as he set a slow rhythm, thick cock dragging deliciously against your wet walls, your nails dig into the skin of his back, huffing out breaths with each thrust.
Firefighter!Sukuna who has you falling apart in his hold, cock red and throbbing with a pulse as you cum around him, thick creamy coating his base, sloppy mess between your bodies.
Firefighter!Sukuna who mutters out, "Whe—where do you want me?" Words muffled against the skin of your shoulder, hips rutting forward as his thumb relentlessly drew shapes on your clit, unbothered by the fact that you already coated him in your creamy slick twice.
You don't answer, you can't—answer, mind devoid of any coherent thought, you could barely focus on anything other then his cock battering your insides and his thumb swapping slick on your bud.
Firefighter!Sukuna who looks down at your ruined appearance, eyes glossy and filled with stars, cheeks red, lips swollen and rosy, he presses one long wet kiss against your plush cheek, pulling out in one go, hand letting go of your waist and wrapping around his length, blurring as he stroked himself, cum splattering on your belly and thighs, some droplets even managing to paint your nipples.
Firefighter!Sukuna who lays flat on his back in your bed, tanned and tattoed skin surrounded by baby pink duvet and teeny tiny plushies, his back supported by what he assumes are, at least 5 small pillow.
His dick, soft and shiny, tucked between his thighs, he turns he head to see you sprawled beside him hands trailing up and down your body, fingers occasionally smearing his coating your belly.
"You want to was—"
"Round two by the ent—"
Both of your stop immediately, widened eyes meeting another set of widened eyes, you stop fiddling with his cream coating your belly, instead you turn towards, ignoring the squelch as remnants of body fluids, leaked out. "I thought firefighters had stamina?"
Firefighter!Sukuna who is dumbfounded by your question, eyes shining with mirth as he took turned towards you, dick bobbing down as blood rushed south again. "Was just being courteous."
He huffed, getting off the bed and dragging you to the edge by your ankle, grinning wide as loud cackles escaped your lips, easily tossing you over his shoulder as he made his way out to the living room.
Pairing: Nightwing!Gojo x Spy!Reader x Red Hood!Geto
Synopsis: The plan is simple: walk into the museum auction ball, seduce your target, steal the diamond, and complete your mission. As a skilled spy and the top jewel thief in Gotham City, it seems easy enough. Except there are three problems that present themselves early in your mission. Number one, your target is Nightwing who is more cunning than you realize. Number two is Red Hood, another annoyingly hot vigilante. And number three is the sneak attack you set off that turns out to be an aphrodisiac. What happens when you hide from the cops and end up in very close quarters with the two vigilantes?
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: IT'S FINALLY HERE!!!! I'm so so so excited to finally get this out for my JJK "I Need A Hero (or a Villain) collab!! I really hope y'all enjoy it!! Please just drop me a comment or DM me if you're interested in joining the collab! <3 -love, Jazz
Credits: Nightwing!Gojo fanart by thatsallitchief on X & Red Hood!Geto fanart by kayaxxo on X!
You stand at the threshold of the museum entrance, right across the street from its mountain of steps.
The sound of Friday night in the city—cars honking, someone blasting music from their car—fills the night air buzzing with activity.
On a night like this, you’d be at home on the couch or having a girls’ night out. But instead, you’re spending your night at an auction party in the finest cocktail dress you could find in your closet. Your boss ordered it as part of your undercover work. You have to “look the part”, so why argue?
Especially when you look so damn good. You visited a hair salon this morning to get the perfectly seductive curls, pinning them up into a high bun with rivets and wisps of curls cascading down from your up-do. It goes perfectly with your wine red cocktail dress–body-hugging, sexy, and has a high slit at the thigh. You paired it with some Loboutine heels and your favorite MAC lipstick.
Perfect for seducing a certain vigilante.
You press two fingers to your right ear, right against the tiny ear piece that could be mistaken for an earring stud. “Testing, testing, 1, 2,” you speak into the earpiece. “This is Nightowl about to enter the vicinity. Target not yet in sight.”
There is a bit of fuzz and then a familiar voice belonging to one of your fellow agents. “Roger that, Nightowl. We’ll be in the building as soon as you give the signal. Target should be inside.”
You feel that familiar stomach flip; the one you usually get before a mission that often vanishes by the time it begins. Nowadays, you don’t get nervous anymore having done this for years. You learn to adapt and to sneak, turning into someone else for the time being until the mission is complete. “Roger. Over and out.”
You square your shoulders and slink into that seductive, secretive persona that you keep in your closet for missions like these. Any mission where you must seduce someone and take them off guard is when you pull her out–the mysterious, sly sex kitten that knows what she wants and how to get it. Nobody can resist her…not even a certain bat-based vigilante taking over Gotham City.
With a strut in your step and a sway in your hips, you walk over to the museum and walk up the steps to the double doors. Every click of your Loboutine heels prepares you for tonight’s festivities. Everything that can and might happen. Everything that you either are or aren’t prepared for.
You love nights like these. You crave for them. You feel electric as you walk into the museum, smiling when you hand the host your invite. You notice the way he checks out the curve of your tits in your dress and the shape of your red lips. He barely checks your ticket because he’s too busy checking you out.
You smile and bat your lashes, thanking him. This means your job should go easy tonight.
When you fully step into the museum lobby converted into a party room, it is in full swing and brimming with luxury, excitement and the energy of the rich, nightlife crowd. The room is surrounded by glass cases of history on display: historical artifacts, old paintings, gems and jewels glittering with temptation. All for the taking.
You would gladly snatch up all of them if you could, but you’re after just one in particular.
It is shockingly easy for you to blend in, but then again, as a renowned agent and jewel thief, you know exactly how to do so. It makes it easy to slink past staff and security to the ‘Staff Only’ room and snatch a random employee tag.
You pin it to your dress and slink back out to the party without anyone noticing, the weight of your secret weapons strapped to your thigh and in your purse grounding you.
As soon as you walk back out into the party, you are bombarded by the sound of a live band playing and the aura of luxury. It is all around you—on the snack table where a crystal bowl of punch and champagne flutes sit; in the tasteful decorations; the conversations and laughs of the guests decked out in their best designer
You keep your clutch close to your side, your little Glock hidden beneath your switchblade shaped as a lipstick tube…and your lipstick. You can’t ever leave the house without your MAC. You press your fingers to your ear again, keeping your voice low. “Night Owl within the vicinity. Target not in sight yet.”
You begin to look around the room, scanning it to find the man of the hour. You studied his appearance for weeks before coming here. Though you have no idea what he’ll be wearing tonight, you know that once you see him, you’ll know that it’s him.
And sure enough, you do. You find him sitting at the bar in a tailored black suit, all long legs and looking so tall and big even while sitting. He is nursing a club soda in his big hand as he reads off a pamphlet about the upcoming presentation tonight and tonight’s auctioned items, his blue eyes shifting as he reads.
There he is: Nightwing, in the flesh. You feel your throat tighten and your heart pound against your ribcage. Your agency has been on this man’s tail for months the same way he has been on theirs, tracking down his real identity. When they finally found him, your boss slapped his manila folder on your desk and smiled at you. “We got him,” he said. “Now it’s your turn.”
Nightwing has been a thorn in your boss’ side for months now, cracking down on his most skilled agents and traffickers. Every Gotham newspaper shows a new arrest on the front page, courtesy of Nightwing and his stupid tight spandex suit and charming grin. No one has ever seen him out of his mask or suit…except for now. And you are more than excited to expose him tonight.
Smuggling is an art form itself. It requires much time and discipline. Being a spy is exactly the same, requiring a precise form and act that makes you your boss’ top spy at his underground agency.
Which is why he chose you for the job. If anyone can get Nightwing on a silver platter, it’s you. You’re more than happy to do so. Anyone ruining your job and chances at getting your hands on some more pretty prizes is evil in your eyes.
The plan is simple: get the man comfortable, perhaps get some drinks in him, seduce him enough to take your offer for privacy in the basement, and then bam! He gets caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you get your hands on the museum’s newest find: a diamond worth millions. One of history’s finest artifacts recently dug up and shipped here. Never before seen.
With the taste of danger and another pretty thing in your roster on your tongue, you strut over to the undercover vigilante and take a seat next to him, catching his attention immediately. It’s almost comical. You give him a small smile of acknowledgement as you place your clutch on the polished bar.
You then wave your manicured nails at the bartender, flashing the vigilante your glossy, red nails. “Bartender, a Brandy Alexander, please.” The woman in the white and black uniform nods, getting started on your drink. You sit in silence for a moment, both of you testing the other to make the first move.
You glance at Nightwing, eyeing him curiously as he pretends to read the pamphlet sitting in his lap. His pants seem to stretch across his muscular thighs…not that you’re checking him out. “So are you gonna say something or just act like you’re not staring at me?” he asks without looking up at you.
You blink at him, taken aback. “Sorry?” He finally turns to look at you, smirking, his blue eyes devastatingly pretty. Damn him. “Pardon the bluntness. I had a glass of champagne earlier. But I can feel your eyes.”
You raise your brow at him, feeling your own smirk curl onto your lips. “Oh, really? How do you know they were mine?” The vigilante shrugs, sipping his club soda. “I’ve been to parties like this before. Or rather, auctions for historical art pieces and valuables.”
“So have I,” you reply, nodding in thanks when your drink is given to you. The vigilante watches you take a sip, eyes zooming in on your red lips. “Hm. Well, you’re certainly dressed for the part. I notice the name tag. You work here, Ms. London?”
You damn near forget about the fake name on the tag you stole and nod, smiling. “That, I do, uh…” You pretend to look puzzled, pulling an annoyingly attractive chuckle out of him. “Satoru,” he replies. “Gojo.” So your agency’s research was correct. Nightwing and Satoru Gojo, a Gotham-based college thirty-something year old, are, in fact, the same person.
Quelling the excitable flip in your gut, you shake his hand, ignoring how big and calloused it is. “Pleasure to meet you, Satoru. I’ve been working here for a year now, so dresses like this are the norm for auctions. I’m glad you like it.”
A small blush coats Satoru’s cheeks, making him slightly endearing. He has two sides to himself it seems…or three, counting Nightwing. “Heh. Well, I’m sure everyone does. It looks very…expensive.” You giggle, eyeing his clothes. “As does your suit.”
He quirks a brow at your compliment, happy with the praise. “Ya think so, huh? Guess that Bloomingdale’s employee wasn’t bullshittin’ me then.” He flashes you a white-toothed grin, dimples popping. He is so charming that it’s disarming, making you slightly uncomfortable. You’ve never felt this way about a target before.
“I can’t say I’ve seen your face around here,” you say, still turning up the heat. After all, this is your job. “I would’ve recognized you as a regular.” You make sure to put a flirty tone in your voice to catch his attention. Sure enough, it does.
“I’m a lover of the arts. Got an invite from the Gotham Art Museum as a member and took it. Plus, there’s a free bar, so why not?” He smirks, sipping his drink. “That’s usually what brings people in here,” you chuckle. “Unless you’re an art buff.” You sip your drink too, leaving a red stain on the glass.
Satoru’s eyes flick from the rim to your face, your wicked ways working on him. “Oh, I am. Nothin’ like gettin’ your hands on somethin’ as valuable and precious as a piece of art. A painting, a sculpture. Even the finest jewel.” His tone is so sly; so seductive. He’s trying to work his charm too…but why?
“Oh?” you purr, hiding your suspensions. “How so? Is it the history that turns you on? F-For art, I mean.”
Satoru chuckles at your little intentionally unintentional innuendo, ducking his head in a way that is both boyish and sexy. “Yeah. Plus, they’re just so damn pretty. I mean, look at this necklace here!” He shows you a photo of one of the artifiacts–a gorgeous necklace from 1800 England dripping with sapphires. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks.
You nod, struggling to not inhale his cologne as he leans in to show you the photo. “It is,” you hum. “There are plenty of more pieces I can show you, if you’re interested.” He eyes you then, his blue eyes like the purest oceans. “Very. Lead the way, Ms. London.”
You smile as you finish your drink for that liquid confidence and stand. He presents you to his elbow and you take it, trying not to get too excited over how easy this is. It may seem that way, but you need to be on your toes. This could go very wrong in an instant. For example, falling victim to the vigilante’s charms as he smiles at you and leads you around the party.
You show the items you’ve seen on the museum’s website, feeding him info you researched and bullshit you make up on the spot. He seems to eat it all up, sipping a glass of champagne, even getting one for you to clink his glass against. Satoru doesn’t seem bored by anything you tell him, nodding in interest and slipping in little jokes between your presentations to make you giggle.
After about two hours of your “roleplay”, things start to accelerate when you’re on your second glass of champagne and back at the bar for a mocktail. You’ll need to at least be semi-sober for this next part. As you’re reaching into your clutch for some cash to pay for your mock martini with olives, someone beats you to it.
An older gentleman with a horrible combover grins at you, not even trying to hide his lecherous eyes. “Here. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t buy her own drink.”
He slips you a bill, standing a little bit closer to you than you’d like. “I appreciate that,” you giggle, taking the money from him just as the bartender returns with your drink. “How can I repay you for such a kind act?”
The old man pretends to think, puckering his lips in a way that you’re sure is supposed to be sexy. “Just your number. I could make sure you don’t have to ruin those feet walkin’ around for your job anymore.” He nods down at your fresh pedicure and designer heels, licking his chapped lips.
You swallow your repulsion, feeling Satoru’s presence sitting behind you at the bar. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t take numbers from married men.” With joy, you watch the old man’s smile fade and he slinks away, giving you the dirtiest look known to man. Satoru nods, impressed. “You got quite the eye.” You shrug, sipping your crisp mocktail. “When you work here long, you learn to catch on.”
He reaches over, clinking your glass with his new drink: a Brandy Alexander this time. “I could’ve told ya he was married though,” he chuckles. His laugh is smooth and rich yet deep and lethal, like a shot of whiskey.
You turn to him, raising a brow at him as you sip your martini. “And how would you know that?” you question. “He didn’t have a ring on his finger.” You only knew because you saw him with his wife when you came in.
Satoru chortles again as if you’re some dumb little girl he needs to school. “Don’t have to. Rings can come off, ‘specially at events like these.” He takes a sip from his drink, eyeing you across the rim. “There’s plenty of pretty women like yourself swimmin’ around here for the pickin’.”
His gaze is hot like fire licking across your exposed skin. The air that the old man left tense becomes even more so, but you straighten your neck and regard him with a smirk. “Like me?” you scoff. “I doubt he could’ve even been able to afford me.”
You take another sip of your martini, leaving a red stain on the rim, before fishing out the toothpick rowed with olives. You pluck one off with your teeth, knowing that he is watching. ‘Just keep up the act. Hook, line, and sinker.’
“And how would one afford you?” he asks, curiously glistening in his eyes. “You merchandise? Up for grabs like these beauties here?” You swirl your tongue around in your mouth, sizing him up. You try not to think about how fun it is to flirt with him. To tease him. This is your job. “Depends on how much you’re willing to bet on me.”
That’s what finally breaks the tension and Satoru’s smile grows rather lustful. “Maybe we can discuss somewhere more private,” he suggests. He slides his hand into yours and you allow it, ignoring how your heart pounds. “You got a room?”
You take a sip of your drink, smirking. “Plenty,” you giggle. Satoru mirrors your smirk, eyeing you down into your stool. “Little spitfire, ain’t you?”
You laugh as he helps you out of your stool. You do your best to act like your knees aren’t weak and that his touch doesn’t send electric shocks through your body. You tell yourself that it’s just because your mission is going so well. Finally, you’ll get what you want. “So I’ve been told. I’ve got just the place for us though. Follow me before someone knows we left.”
Satoru nods, his expression like molten fire as his eyes lay on your ass when you walk ahead of him, hand in hand, towards the elevator. The auction is underway so people are preoccupied, meaning it’s easy to sneak away with the vigilante to the basement.
Minutes later, you’re getting pinned against the basement wall and Satoru’s lips are on yours. He showed surprising self control in the elevator, even when you felt the sexual tension building and his hand on your waist growing tight. The basement is quiet and empty, only filled with supplies and other museum artifacts moved for safe keeping.
You moan against Satoru’s kiss, his soft lips just as heavy as the darkness descending upon you. The silvery moonlight is the only light cutting through the open window above, illuminating Satoru’s snow white hair and handsome features. His hands cup your face as you grasp his shoulders, welcoming his big frame pressed against yours.
You’ve kissed many targets before. You’ve even slept with some. Not that you’re proud of it, but it’s the name of the game. However, with Satoru, this doesn’t feel like a simple roleplay or job. His lips are soft and chaste of champagne, making you drunk. It’s so dangerous. You need to stop this now.
Luckily, the glittering of an object catches both of your eyes, causing you to stop kissing. Satoru keeps his roaming hands on you as he gazes at the glass case of a gorgeous diamond glistening with all kinds of yellows, pinks, and lavenders. “Wait…is that the newest diamond?” he questions. “The one found in a cave in the Himalayas?"
You nod, slinking your arms around him as you gaze at the diamond. “Yeah,” you purr. “They brought it in a month ago to present tonight.” And if anyone touches it, it will start an alarm. You know from sneaking in here weeks ago for a tour of the museum, committing every room to memory.
With your eyes trained on Satoru, you give him a lustful stare, body tingling in anticipation. “Now shut up and take off your clothes. Step back a bit for me so I can undress.” Satoru grins and begins to do just that, reaching for his tie as he blindly steps back, the glass case right behind you.
Click.
You freeze when you feel the cold barrel of a gun in your back, making your muscles tense. “Hold it right there,” an unfamiliar voice croons. “Move one inch and you won’t like what happens next.” You do as he says, not moving, while Satoru glares at the stranger over your head. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hisses.
The stranger chuckles, his voice deeper yet softer than Satoru’s. “Now is that anyway to greet your friendly neighborhood vigilante?” he jokes. “‘Specially since I could’ve just left your dumb ass here.” The gun cocks, making you gulp. “Turn around,” he orders.
Slowly, you turn and sure enough, you’re staring at yet another Gotham vigilante that’s been bugging your boss: Red Hood, in the flesh. Dressed in his red and black uniform, muscles outlined in his suit, his long, black hair cascading down his shoulders and back. A white streak shoots through one lock in his face, right over his indigo eyes peeking over the red mask covering his mouth and nose.
Satoru glares at the vigilante that seems to be flipped around from the same coin, just a different side. “Seriously, Suguru? You stealin’ my target from me now?”
Target?
“Don’t use my real name,” Suguru aka Red Hood growls from behind his mask. “And you were ready to fuck my target, Nightwing. Don’t you realize this woman is tryin’ to play you? She wants someone to take the fall while she steals the diamond.”
Slowly, you turn to stare at Satoru, hoping that you aren’t this stupid. Sure enough, the white-haired man rolls his blue eyes. “Why else would I have come down here so willingly? I’m not that much of a whore, asshole.”
He turns to you with a smile, popping open his top to reveal the black suit with a big blue bat symbol stuck on his chest. “Pleasure to meet you by the way, Night Owl.” You gape at the bat symbol then at his face. You can’t believe it! You’ve been had! “You…you tricked me,” you hiss.
Satoru doesn’t even look the least bit apologetic, but why would he? “Sorry, but I couldn’t have you tossin’ me to the cops. I know you ain’t gonna flap your gums about my secret identity…unless you want people to know who you are too.”
Your eyes widen an inch, your stomach flipping with fear. He’s blackmailing you? “See, I’ve been after you for quite some time now,” he continues, giving you that stupid grin that you want to smack off of him. “You’re the most wanted jewel thief in Gotham. Frankly, I just wanted to see how far you’d think I’d fall for your plan.”
“Fuck you,” you growl. “Neither one of you is gonna arrest me for this. The cops and Batman are all the same: fuckin’ idiots.” Suguru and Satoru share a look, silently deliberating. “Good thing they got us,” Satoru chuckles. “We’re not as dumb as you think we are, honey.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Suguru hums, the gun still cocked at your head. “You don’t give us superheroes as much credit.” You keep quiet, simpering with anger. How could you be so dumb? How could you be so reckless? So–
Crackle-crackle. “Night Owl!” your fellow agent yells into your ear. “Come in, Night Owl! There’s an initial target! It’s–”
“Tell your people that you know already,” Suguru says, close enough to hear the feedback of the "conspicuous" ear piece in your ear. “And tell them that we’re about to give you an ultimatum. All you have to do is surrender and–”
POOF!
The vigilante can’t finish his sentence because he’s getting a mouthful of the pink smoke bomb you slipped out of your bra. It is tiny yet lethal; a new weapon created by the tech department at your agency. It comes right in handy, creating a thick fog that fills the entire basement with pink smoke. “Goddamn!” Satoru coughs. “What the fuck was that?!”
Quickly, you turn around to knock the gun out of Suguru’s hand, the fog allowing you the perfect cover. Then you give him a swipe with your leg, tripping him backwards. Though he perfectly catches himself and kicks his legs back up to stand upright, you’re already pulling a tiny remote from your clutch and aiming it at the ceiling.
“Sorry to cut this meeting short, fellas,” you chuckle. “But I’ve gotta run. Nice meeting you!” Then with one click, a rope with a hook at the end extends from the remote and punches a hole into the ceiling window. You zoom up right out of the building through the window before releasing and landing on the museum building’s rooftop.
Unfortunately, the fog is a little bit more potent than you realize. It explodes from the broken window, traveling up onto the rooftop. Right under your nose. You breathe it in without even realizing it and begin to cough, your throat and eyes stinging. Those fuck ass scientists!
Quickly, you hurry to the edge of the building and stare across to a skyscraper. You could zip across that no problem. You could be out of here in just a….whoa. You suddenly feel light on your feet and your vision grows wavery, everything suddenly foggy and unfocused.
“Oh, fuck,” you exhale before you feel yourself falling forward, about to hit the pavement…and you would’ve if Satoru didn’t catch you. He grunts as he grabs your arm and hugs you to him, positioning you so he’s carrying you bridal style.
You stare up into his blue eyes peaking out of his black mask before your vision is eaten up by darkness. “We’ve got you now, sweetie,” he whispers. “We’ll take good care of you. You’ll see.”
“Wakey, wakey, babydoll. Let us know you’re still alive.”
Slowly, your eyes peel open and you’re staring into the ocean blues behind a black mask. The man attached to the mask wears a black and blue spandex suit with black gloves and boots. If it isn’t for the white hair and silky voice, you would not have recognized Satoru. “She lives!” he mockingly gasps. “Thank God. We thought you died on us, honey.”
He grins at you, blinding you with his white teeth. You groan as you come to your senses, feeling achy and unbalanced. Slowly, you sit up, finding yourself on the floor in some secret room–it consists of a tiny cot bed, wooden boxes of food supplies, and a stool that Red Hood occupies. Suguru, you heard Satoru call him. He is still in his suit, but his mask is gone, revealing his handsome features and the snakebites embedded in his plump, pink bottom lip.
“W-Where am I?” you mutter. “Why do I feel so dizzy?” You place a hand on your head, still coming back to reality. You look around, seeing the towel under your head and your dress still intact. Did they…move you here?
“You passed out after inhalin’ that smoke shit you blew at us,” Suguru explains from the stool, using a pocket knife to stab a hole in the drywall. He twists it to the right to the left, focusing hard on his movements.
“I-I did?” you whisper. Then you panic, your memories flooding back. The smoke bomb. “Oh, no, no!” you gasp. “I have to get outta here! R-Right now!” Quickly, you try to rise to your feet only to slump back down, still dizzy.
“Ah-ah, little miss,” Suguru tuts. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere right now.” He rises from his stool, arms crossed. His sleeves are rolled up to expose his muscular arms inked with tattoos but you ignore them…or you try to. “And who’s gonna stop me?” you growl at him, glaring up at him.
Satoru glances at the both of you before rising to his feet, whistling. You watch him waltz over to a painting hanging up on the wall that you didn’t notice before and sloooowly moving it aside to reveal a tiny hole in the wall that Suguru surely made. “Well, them for one,” he replies, showing you a sliver of the museum lobby where you once were.
Only now, it’s surrounded by Gotham City cops. ‘Shit!’ you think. panicked. Someone called the cops?! What if Batman shows up too?!
“And definitely not if you’re feelin’ weak,” Satoru adds, crossing his arms over his buff chest. “Whatever that sneak attack was is sneakin’ up on you too.”
You don’t answer, grabbing your clutch beside you and then feeling around your ear for… “My earpiece,” you gasp. “W-Where’s my earpiece?!” You begin to look around, searching the small room for the tiny black dot. “You’re what piece?” Satoru asks, confused.
“That thing that her team was talkin’ in her ear with,” Suguru explains. “And don’t look at me. I don’t have it. Must’ve fallen out while you–”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish because you’re rising to your feet again only to stumble, falling into the wall. The two vigilantes quickly descend upon you, using their strong hands to help you out. “Hey, hey, relax,” Satoru gently says. “Sit down and take a breath.”
You watch them suspiciously as they sit you down on the edge of the bed, leaving you be once you’re off your feet. Why are they being so damn gentle with you? “Now explain,” Satoru firmly says, leaning against the wall. “Who are you? What’s the thing with robbin’ these museums?”
Instead of answering, you keep quiet, stubborn and bratty. Satoru rolls his eyes at you like you’re a disobedient child. “Listen, we’re gonna be here for a while, so you may as well talk…unless you want us to alert one of these cops.” He picks up his fist and raps it quietly on the wall, making your heartbeat scatter.
Damn these damn vigilantes! Always one step ahead of you. “I’m a spy,” you begrudgingly confess. “I work for an underground organization that deals in jewel trafficking. I was tasked with stealing the diamond in the hopes of leading Batman to my boss.”
The two vigilantes share a look, silently talking to each other. Are they wondering what they'll do to you? How to torture you to make you talk? Will they use Suguru’s pocket knife to slice off your dress? Will they strip you down and spank you till you cry? Make you suck their big cocks until you’re begging for them to fuck you? Slide themselves inside of you and fill you up until you’re begging for them to stop?
You blink at the sudden onslaught of dirty, nasty thoughts and the images flashing across your brain. Where the fuck did that come from?
And then you feel it: that warm flush that engulfs your body like you just stepped into a sauna. Then you feel your heartbeat accelerate, pumping hot blood until you can practically hear it throb. You press a hand to your forehead, finding it coated in sweat. What is happening to you?
The sound of Satoru’s silky voice doesn’t help your situation. If anything, it makes your body feel even weirder. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, sweetie. And for what it's worth, sorry to ruin your mission too.” He pauses, cocking his head to the side and squinting at you as if he’s just now seeing you. “You’re a lot prettier than that diamond though.”
The compliment comes out of nowhere and he looks just as perplexed as you feel from it. “What?” you and Suguru both ask. You blink, seeing how pink Satoru’s cheeks are, noticing how Suguru is pulling at the collar of his skin-tight suit.
Then it hits you. “Oh, no…the bomb! It’s working on us!” you lament, instantly scooting as far across the room as you can. As you try to check for loose structure in the wall to knock down and escape, the vigilantes share a confused glance. “What do you mean?” Suguru demands. “What the hell was in that thing anyway? Jesus, are you two as hot as I am right now?”
You are–it feels like the room has grown to about 100 degrees and is quickly rising. “It was an aphrodisiac bomb,” you weakly explain. “It was made with bi-products to help distract my target and weaken their defenses by using arousal.”
You don’t look at the vigilantes as you continue to tap against the wall, searching for a way out. But are you really searching or just pretending so you don’t succumb to the temptation of the two irresistible men standing behind you?
“Wait, you used a fuckin’ aphrodisiac on us?” Satrou growls. “Is that why I’m so goddamn…” He pauses, letting out a broken exhale that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
“This shit is workin’ fast,” Suguru exhales, suddenly sounding a lot closer. You feelin’ it too?” He’s asking you, but you don’t answer. You don’t even turn around, too afraid of your loss of control. You can’t trust yourself anymore.
“I-It doesn’t matter. We have to get out of here now.” You try to stand again, bracing your hands on the wall, but your knees buckle, loose like jelly. “Oh, no!” you whimper, tears springing into your eyes.
“Hey, hey,” Satoru coos. His hands are on you, gentle and supportive, helping you stand upright. “Relax, doll. You’re okay.” Not the pet names. God, no, anything but those!
“You don’t understand,” you whisper, trying to wrangle yourself out of his hold. He feels too good, his broad chest pressed into your back. If this continues, you don’t know what will happen and that scares you. You’re supposed to be finishing this mission!
“What don’t I understand?” he murmurs. “Tell me.” But you can’t. You can’t focus on anything except his strong, gloved hands on your waist and his silky voice in your ear. Slowly, he turns you around to face him and you’re staring deep into his sapphire eyes glistening at you from beneath his mask.
“Your eyes are really pretty,” you hear yourself softly admit. His lips curl into a proud smile, all dimples and charm. “Thank you, baby. Yours ain’t too bad either.”
And then suddenly, you’re kissing. You don’t know if you lean in or if he does, but at some point, the tension that the aphrodisiacs caused reach a boiling point, steaming and overflowing. Satoru’s lips are just as soft as they were earlier in the basement, but this time, his kiss is slow and seductive, taking his time to taste you. It feels so, so fucking good.
“No,” you whimper against his lips, some of your common sense still lingering. “T-This is all wrong.” Even so, your hands feel up his chest, indulging in how big his pecs are beneath the spandex.
Before Satoru can protest or argue, the thud of footsteps behind you stops him short. Suguru’s hand caresses your hair, brushing it away from your neck. “Only thing that’s wrong here is me not bein’ included,” he rasps. You begin to tremble, sandwiched between their big, hard bodies, each of them towering over you. You’ve never been so intimidated in your life.
Satoru chuckles, soft and sexy, as his thumb strokes your cheek. Though he’s speaking to Suguru, his eyes stay planted firmly on you. “Join in if ya want. There's plenty of this bad girl to go around.” His fingers trail down to your chin, tilting your head up to stare up at him. “You deserve some punishment for pullin’ that little stunt on us, don’t you?”
Suguru hums in agreement, his fingers tangled in your hair. You can’t think, too distracted by the mingling scents of their cologne and your own arousal. “I-I don’t…” You dig your teeth into your bottom lip as Suguru toys with your dress zipper, making your skin tingle. “You don’t what?” the vigilante pushes, a teasing smile in his voice. “You don’t know? Oh, we think you know quite well, little lady.”
“Y/N,” you murmur. “My name is Y/N.” Not that you hate the petnames, but it’s also because you want to hear them utter your name. Satoru smiles, pleased. “Pretty name. Better than that London shit you were goin’ with.” He is teasing you and it’s working its magic on you, totally hooking you to your targets.
Their kisses don’t make shit any better for you. They each share you one after the other, snatching you away if one of them is taking too long with your lips. Satoru’s kiss is more possessive and sloppy while Suguru is slow and seductive. However, their lips are soft and their tongues are tantalizing, drawing soft moans out of you as they push against you, trapping you between them.
You can’t get enough of their tastes; their tongues sliding against yours. Their big hands are roaming your body. Suguru sucking on your bottom lip while Satory caresses your neck, soft sighs and moans traveling between you. It is electric. It is magic. It is perfection.
Your limbs feel loose like jelly. If it isn’t for the vigilantes holding you up, you’d definitely crumble to the floor. They have made you weak. Satoru chuckles as if sensing this, teasingly licking a stripe across your throat. “Poor baby. All she needed was a little attention.” He takes your hand and places it on his very hard, very throbbing dick. “And maybe a little dick too,” he pants.
“Definitely not little over here,” Suguru teases. Oh, you can feel it. He is just as big and just as stiff as Satoru, pushing into your backside. You are sweating at this point, your pussy throbbing impatiently at the feeling of their bulges packed tight in their suits. “Don’t know about you though, Satoru,” Suguru smirkingly says.
Satoru tsks, rolling his eyes. “Liar. You know all about the weapon I’m carryin’, don’t you, baby boy?” Suddenly, he’s reaching over to grip Suguru’s arm and yanking him in for a sloppy kiss. You stare, shocked and aroused, their soft moans drifting through the air as their lounges slip against each other.
You weren’t expecting some hot shit like this…but you ain’t complaining either. Your body responds immediately: hard nipples, flushed cheeks, and a very wet pussy that drips down your thighs. Satoru’s blue eyes tick over to you and he pulls away, smirking. “Oooo, baby girl’s gettin’ turned on from seein’ her guys kiss, hm?” he chuckles. “What’s the matter, honey? Can’t take it?”
Both vigilantes stare at you, their teasing making you shy. “N-No,” you stammer. Suguru raises a brow, not convinced. “Oh, no? Then prove it.”
Suddenly, you’re indulging in your first three-way kiss. All soft lips, tongues, and moans that travel straight to your core, making it warm and fuzzy. Your pussy drips slick down your inner thighs as Satoru grinds against your front while Suguru rubs his cock against you from the back, making you feel every inch of them. The taste of champagne coming off of their tongues is intoxicating, making you drunker than any alcohol could.
Satoru pulls away, pulling his fat, pink tongue away from you. “Bet these lips would feel real good around my cock,” he whispers. You shiver at the dirty statement, biting your bottom lip.
Suguru agrees with a hum. “Absolutely. How ‘bout it, mama? It’s okay to need a nice, fat dick in here, right?” His thumb swipes your bottom lip, making you tingle all throughout your body.
His smile fades as he watches you watch him, his gaze molten hot and lustful. You have no choice but to watch him unbuckle his pants with one hand and unzip the front of his suit, pulling his cock out. Your eyes widen at inch at his long, thick, pulsing shaft protruding from a nest of black curls. Especially at the glistening silver ball at his bulbous head.
Red Hood has a dick piercing.
“Suck that dick f’me,” he demands, his tone firm and serious. “It’s the least you can do for the trouble you caused.” You feel your eyes watering and your lips quivering. Everything in you is screaming at you not to comply…but there is one part nesting in the deepest, darkest depths of your being that is interested and curious. You’ve always wondered how Red Hood and Nightwing looked and tasted…and now, you’re about to find out.
But as you kneel on the bed before Suguru, facing his thick cock, you start to gulp. He smirks, cocky, dick bobbing in your face without him even using his hands. “Too big, mama? Don’t worry. You can try on this.” He then glides his gun out of his bat belt and holds it out to you, making your eyes widen and your heart pump. “Suck, slutty girl. Let’s see whatcha got.”
And to your utter surprise, you wrap your lips around the gun and suck. You stare into Suguru’s eyes as you blow the pistol in your face, its cold metal warmed by your soft, lush lips. Satoru watches, just as astonished and aroused as Suguru is, as your throat sinks lower down the barrel. “Mmm, no gag reflex? That’s my kinda girl.”
Suguru’s violet eyes grow dark with lust as you bob up and down the gun, hollowing your cheeks. “Mine too. Keep those eyes up here, mama. Let me see that pretty face.” He reels you in like a fish on a hook with those eyes, hooded and piercing, drinking in the way you suck off his gun. Your spit coats the cold metal, your lips quivering when you catch his finger on the trigger.
You can only hope that it’s unloaded, but to your surprise, you don’t feel fear; only a thrill. But you get a thrill like no other once Suguru has had enough of the foreplay and decides to finally feed you his big dick. “Time to show me what that mouth can do…other than talk back.”
You stare at the thick cock in front of you, the silver balls teasingly glinting at you. Swallowing your pride, you start by kissing and licking along Suguru’s shaft, introducing yourself to his dick. He softly groans and hums in enjoyment at your ministrations, pushing his hips forward.
He does so in a way that makes his cock slip between your lips and in your mouth without your permission. You gasp as his thick cock passes the threshold of your mouth, the taste of him all over your tongue. “Mmm, that’s a good girl,” he moans, using one hand to grab the back of your head.
His deep thrusts cause your hair to loosen from its updo, your curls falling down. Quickly, they are swept up by a fist, held up out of your face so you can focus on swallowing the dick down your throat. “Allow me,” Satoru hums. “Can’t suck good dick if your hair is in the way.”
He then pushes you forward onto Suguru’s dick, making you take him deeper. You force yourself to open your throat and to breathe through your nostrils in an effort not to choke. “Shit,” Suguru groans, watching as your lush lips stretch around his dick, taking him to the hilt. “You’re so good at this, angel. You make me wanna fuckin’ cu–”
“My turn. You’re takin’ too fuckin’ long,” Satoru quips, tearing you off of Suguru’s cock. The long-haired vigilante glares daggers at the Nightwing as he takes his place, smirking down at you. “Be prepared for some greatness, sweetie.”
Zzzzip. Satoru smirks as he unzips his pants and slides his dick right out for you to behold. He is just as thick as Suguru but lightly curved, leaning with a hook. He is all smooth skin and muscle, not a stitch of hair coating his pelvis except for his thighs. “Like whatcha see, naughty girl? That sneak attack made me so hard f’you.”
He bites his lip as he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking it oh-so slowly in your face. The little beads of pre-cum at the head drizzle down his shaft like the droplets of an ice cream cone.
He hisses as his thumb strokes the sensitive underside of his head, his bottom lip quivering. “A-Ah–catch it, babes. Don’t let me go to waste now.”
You don’t know what possesses you to stick your tongue out to lick up the salty droplets. Maybe the drug or how hot he looks so desperate for you. Either way, you lick up his pre-cum and then suck on his cock like you mean it, hollowing your cheeks to take him easier. Suguru watches close by in both envy and arousal, stroking his fat dick as his eyes flick between you on your knees and Satoru fucking your throat.
Satoru lets out a loud, throaty groan, one hand tangled in your hair. “That’s it, cutie pie,” he groans. “Take that fuckin’ cock. Y’know, you’re almost better at this than ya are fightin’.” He pushes in deeper, making you gag and nearly triggering that button in the back of your throat, making you gag. Satoru loudly groans at the feeling of your throat flexing around him. “You should think about changin’ occupations…bein’ a little cocksucker is way more fittin’ for ya, pardon the vulgarity.”
He begins to fuck your face now, slowly at first, but he is still brutal and rough. You have to force yourself to keep breathing to avoid throwing up all over his dick. “You could be my little cock slut,” he growls. “My baby. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”
Yes.
You gurgle and gag in response, your throat forced to flex around his cock interrupting its natural state. You feel as if your throat and mouth are being molded into his personal fleshlight with the way he fucks your face, grunting and groaning like a desperate man. His balls slap against your chin, filling your nose with the scent of his cologne and his dick, making for an extra arousing aroma.
“Time’s up,” Suguru says, his voice rasped with need. “You’re either sharin’ or you’re not, Satoru. Don’t be greedy.” He practically shoves the Nightwing out of the way, making Satoru roll his eyes. “Well, sorry,” he snorts. “I didn’t realize you were feenin’ for her mouth, Red Hood. Just look at all that pre-cum!”
Sure enough, Suguru is dripping pre down his fist, oozing down to his heavy balls. Satoru smirks as the Red Hood taps his cock against your plush lips, softly moaning. “You gonna drink it all up for him, baby?” he coos. “Be a good girl and lick it aaaalll up for us.”
You do so, licking up Suguru’s pre-cum before he pushes in and uses your mouth again. And then passes you off to Satoru. They allow you to stroke both of their dicks in time with your sucking, alternating between each one in your face, throbbing hard. Their groans and whimpers egg you on, making you ignore the ache in your jaw and how your mascara drips just to hear more of their pleasure.
You’ve never been used in such a way. You are being resorted to nothing but a toy. A hole for the vigilantes’ own use. Saliva drips from your chin and down onto your tits, making you slick and pussy like another part of you between your thighs. The more they fuck, the more your cunt throbs and pulses in anticipation for it to be fucked the same way.
What is wrong with you? You can only ask yourself this question with every passing moment that your mouth is used like a fleshlight, blowing each dick like it’s your job. Soon, the vigilantes have had their fill though they haven’t cum yet. “Not bad, cutie,” Satoru pants, cheeks flushed. “Now we gotta give our girl a reward, don’t we, Sugu?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Suguru hums, stroking loose hairs out of your face. “Need to make sure you’re ready for us later.”
Excitedly, your eyes tick down to their throbbing dicks again, your pussy throbbing impatiently for either one…or both. Then you catch the glint of Satoru’s handcuffs dangling from his belt. He smirks, taking them out for you. “Oh, you want these?” he teases, dangling the cuffs in your face. “Can’t say I ain’t been wantin’ to cuff your ass all night. I think it’s fittin’ for a naughty girl like you.”
He crooks his finger at you, causing you to stand on wobbly legs. You softly gasp when he suddenly forces you to turn around, facing the bed post. “Hands behind your back, pretty. Let’s hike up this dress too.” You swallow as you obey his sultry command, allowing Satoru to carefully cuff your hands behind your back.
Meanwhile, Suguru kneels down to hike up your dress over your hips. As he does, their groans of arousal at the sight of your plump ass in your lace panties make you gush in your panties. Before you know it, you’re getting bent over the edge of the bed, presenting your ass to the both of them. “Good, baby?” Satoru murmurs, thoughtfully stroking your ass. You nod, unable to speak.
SMACK!
You gasp as his palm connects with your ass, hard, making tears spring into your eyes. “What was that?” Satoru asks. The fiery sting makes you flinch, but your pussy has never been wetter. You’re feening at this point, needing dick like you need water to drink. You look over your shoulder at Satoru, drowning in his molten hot gaze. “Yes, I’m okay, sir,” you whisper.
Satoru and Suguru share a praiseful smile, cooing at your obedience. “So polite! Why weren’t you this sweet earlier, hm?” Satoru hums, pressing a kiss to your ass. But then Suguru tugs on your wrists, making you grunt. “Such a little brat,” he growls. “Lucky for you, mama, I love me some bratty girls.”
Satoru hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to your panties, making you whimper. “Me too…so just what should we do to a bratty pussy like yours?” His bottom lip drags over your ass, his fat tongue licking down, down to your inner thighs. Suguru kneels with him, teasing you with his soft lips and cool tongue piercing, bathing your skin in his spit.
Your body feels unbalanced and your legs are wobbly. To some degree, you’re thankful for the bedside to hold you up as you feel Suguru’s big hands glide down your ass and thighs. Then, suddenly, you feel his breath caressing your asscheeks and something cool on your skin.
You realize what it is when you feel your wet panties slice off of your body. A knife. “Don’t fret, mama. This is just to get these panties off…but if you want, I can use it on the dress too.” He presses the cool metal of the knife into your thigh, making you feel the jagged edges.
“You can be a good girl for us, can’t you?” he whispers, a wicked smile in his voice. He doesn’t give you the chance to answer before lightly licking you against your slit. You gasp, your wrists straining against the cuffs. His big hands glide up to force your hips back, causing your ass to jut into his face. “F-Fuck!” you stammer, gasping as sparks of pleasure explode through your core. You can’t even grip anything because of your cuffed wrists, so you resort to curling your toes in your heels.
“Don’t leave me outta this,” Satoru purrs. “I want a lick too.” You feel him give your ass a wet, open-mouthed kiss, making you moan as Suguru slides his fat tongue up to tease your clit. “You can handle both of us, can’t you, babydoll? A tough girl like you?”
Neither of them give you a chance to answer. Instead, your pitiful moans and slutty whimpers answer for them, filling the small room along with the soft, wet sloshing of their tongues caressing your dripping pussy. They hum enjoyment, licking and sucking away at your pussy that seems to grow wetter with every ministration of their tongues.
“O-Oh, shit,” you whimper. “Mmm, fuck!” You try to hold back your moans, but you can’t. Plus, the knife against your thigh doesn’t allow you. One wrong move or something that Suguru doesn’t like, and that knife could be cutting your skin…and that turns you on like you’ve never been in your life.
So let them do as they please. But you don’t really have a choice either. All you can do is shake and shudder as Sugruu sucks on your ass and Satoru swirls his tongue around your clit before he dips the muscle inside of you, moaning at your taste. Your mouth falls open on a loud moan, his soft lips cushioning your clit.
Satoru lightly pulls on your pussy lips, earning a whimper from you. “Isn’t this so much better than fightin’ us, baby?” he asks before French kissing your cunt once again. He kisses you sloppily and messily, his tongue licking and sliding this way and that.
At some point, you hear him and Suguru making out with your pussy between them, their soft moans and hot pants fanning across each sensitive part of your pussy, making you a panting, overstimulated mess. You push your ass into their faces, riding their tongues, desperation blooming in your core along with the familiar warm, budding sensation of an oncoming orgasm.
“Please!” you whine. “A-Ah…oh, fuck, please!”
Satoru smiles, still licking and sucking your pussy with all of the vigor of a hungered man. “I like you beggin’,” he replies. “Do it again for us, nice and pretty.” You have no choice when he continues on slurping on your cunt and fucking your hole, his nose swiping against your clit.
“Please, please, please!” you sob. “Please let me cum!” Your begging must satisfy the vigilantes because their tongues move a little faster, their pace causing your body to quake against the restrictions of the cuffs. Their hot, wet mouths cause your orgasm to wash over you quickly yet powerfully, controlling every part of your body. You let out a whine of pleasure as your cum explodes in their mouths, drenching their lips in your juices.
While you’re still cumming, Suguru, ever the sadist, presses his thumb against your clit as his knife skates up to press against your pussy lips, the cold metal making you whine. “Cum more for us, baby,” he coos. “You can do it.” Then Satoru is shoving his tongue up inside of you, making you damn near scream. Fuck!” you explode as your orgasm peaks, making your eyes roll back and your legs shake.
You don’t even realize that you’re squirting until you hear the vigilantes exclaim in surprise, catching every drop in their mouths. “Oh, shit, she’s a squirter!” he says with glee. “That’s too fuckin’ sexy.”
Your eyes roll back as your hips buck and your pussy quivers, more and more of your honey exploding onto the vigilantes’ tongues until you are absolutely spent. Even when you slump against the bed, exhausted, Suguru stands behind you, dick up and ready to blow. Pla-pla-plap goes his cock slapping against your sensitive clit, making you hiss.
“We ain’t done yet so you’d better get it together,” he softly demands, his big hands gripping your ass. Instantly, your stomach grows fluttery with butterflies and your core grows warm. You know exactly what is coming next. You can’t stop. You can’t avoid it. And more frighteningly, you’re not even sure if you don’t want it.
Especially when Suguru finally slides that big, thick, long cock inside of you. Slick and open from your orgasm, he makes his home between your velvety walls, making you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt in your life. He groans into your ear while your mouth falls agape on a silent moan. “God, you’re tight!” he hisses, already bumping his hips back and forth against your ass. Slow and deep.
You think you’re already feeling pleasure until Satoru gets involved, still kneeling behind you. He hooks one of your legs up and Suguru takes control, keeping your leg hiked up as the Nightwing tilts his chin up to face your pussy getting stretched out on some dick. “C’mere, you two,” he pants. “I wanna hear you both scream.” Then his fat tongue is caressing your clit and Suguru’s balls as the vigilante pounds you from behind.
You are a moaning, whining mess, damn near drooling in pleasure. Suguru digs his nails into the fleshy part where your ass meets your hip, his fingers indulging in your body. “Fuck, baby!” he grunts into your ear, panting hotly. Even he can’t get a grip on himself. Your pussy feels too good wrapped around him, stroking him of all he’s worth.
“Take it,” he demands. “Take that fuckin’ dick. You know you need it.” His other hand grips your neck, keeping a strong grip on your throat as he fucks into your wet heat. “So let me give it to you,” he huffs. “Lemme give you everything that pussy needs!”
His hips hammer harder and faster into your ass, making it quiver and recoil. Your moans are loud and high-pitched, unable to be silenced due to his pistoning thrusts. He fucks you like a machine, pumping in and out, out and in, his cock pulsing inside of you. “F-Fuck!” you stammer. “Wait, S-Sugu! You’re going t-too fast!”
Your pussy feels like it’s going into overload, being stuffed too much and too quickly. Satoru’s tongue doesn’t make things any better; he is a master with his tongue, giving you sloppy licks and sucks as his partner fills you up again and again. Tears spring into your eyes as Suguru grips your throat tighter, cutting off your air for just a moment. “Oh, but you can take it, can’t you, tough girl?” he chuckles. “You’re bein’ so good already.”
Short moans and gasps leave your lips as he continues to squeeze, still fucking you dumb. Your knees buckle and your head feels fuzzy from the overstimulation and the grip on your throat. The pleasure somehow mounts to astronomical heights, leaving you a dumb, mindless mess.
You’re about to cum. Your target is going to make you burst all over his big, fat cock as if you’re his lover and he’s deserving of all of it. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you warn. “Please, please let me cum, sir! I can’t take it!” You grip the cuffs for dear life as he fucks and fucks and fucks you. Your knuckles go pale, an indication of the pleasure you’re experiencing.
Satoru chuckles, enjoying your torture, staring up at your bouncing tits above him. “Aww, but the fun just started, baby,” he condescendingly coos. “You gonna cum already? Is that vigilante dick just too good?” You whimper in response, your eyes fluttering closed.
SMACK!
Satoru slaps your clit hard, making it sting. “I don’t hear an answer,” he growls. You sob, tears threatening to drip down your cheeks. “Yes! Yes, it feels so fucking good!” you babble. You can feel yourself careening closer to orgasm, your head going blank as you get closer to the edge…
And then Suguru slows his pace, putting an end to your euphoria. “Then we’ll need to make it feel extra good,” Satoru cackles, his blue eyes glittering with wickedness. “I wanna fuck her too, Suguru. Don’t be greedy now.” He stands up, his hand on his fat, hard dick pulsing for you.
Suguru looks between you and Satoru, raising an eyebrow. “So you wanna steal her other pretty hole? Is that it?” You blink, the gears in your brain turning, processing what your “other pretty hole” means. They can’t possibly mean–
“W-Wait, wait,” you protest as Suguru maneuvers your body, turning you around so he’s holding you up. You squeak, staring at a wall of broad chest and tattoos inking his pecs. “I-I’m not–”
“Ready?” Satoru finishes, smirking as he gets behind you, one leg hiked up to expose your dripping pussy to the both of them. “Don’t worry, babycakes! We’ve got you. That’s what these fat tongues are here for.”
Again, you’re bent over the bed and the vigilantes’ are sharing your hole again. Only this time it’s your asshole. They spit and slobber into your puckered hole, your asscheeks pried apart in their gloved hands. All you can do is moan and whine as they lick and suckle on your asshole, even using their fingers to gently fuck you there until you’re good and open.
“Oooo, look at that gape!” Satoru cackles, grinning at the way you’re so stretched and open now for some dick. “You’re nice and ready for me now, cutie pie. You’re gonna look so beautiful stuffed with our dicks.”
You whimper, your body burning with need and arousal. You’ve never been this horny in your life. You suspect that Batman will come at any minute to toss you in a mental facility because of how diabolically, deviously horny you are for his protégé. “Let’s get these cuffs off of you,” Suguru murmurs, taking Satoru’s key to unshackle you.
Once you’re uncuffed, you’re sandwiched between the vigilantes again, a prisoner in two walls of muscle. You are facing Suguru again, your arms around his neck, moaning as he gives you a slow, sloppy kiss, while Satoru is behind you.
He rubs his cock against your asshole, making you whimper at the feeling of something so hot and hard trying to enter you there. “Don’t you wanna be a big girl for us?” he coos. “Don’t you wanna prove how tough you are?” You feel his tip lightly brush your entrance and flinch, nails digging into Suguru’s chest. “T-Toru,” you stammer. “Please…”
Satoru shushes you, peppering your neck in minty, champagne-spiked kisses. “S’okay, doll, we’ve gotchu. Nice and slow now…” He nods at Suguru and together, they hold you up by your leg and sink deeeeep inside of your holes.
You gasp, your eyes widening as you see twinkling stars. There is a slight burn as Satoru shoves himself in your asshole, but it is numbed by Suguru in your pussy, pleasure and pain mixing into one. After some slow, gentle strokes, they go harder, deeper, faster. Skin against skin. Moans in your ear.
You feel stretched. You feel full. You feel used. And you feel absolutely, positively amazing.
“Ah, fuck, baby, yes!” Satoru moans into your ear, pawing at your tits and ass like you’ll vanish if he doesn’t. “God, you–ngh, feel so fuckin’ good!”
Suguru locks a hand around your throat and presses his lips to your ear, his lip ring cool against the shell. “A pussy like this would make me ditch the cape. Make me rob a fuckin’ bank for you.”
He loosens his hold on your neck, allowing you time to breathe. But you can’t breathe. You can’t even speak. Your mind is full of cock, unable to focus on anything but Satoru’s big thighs slapping against yours and Suguru’s handsome, flushed face, their dicks pummeling into you. Their thrusts grow quick and brutal, turning your pussy and asshole into mush, making your clit sing and your brain fall right out of your noggin. You are gone. And so are the vigilantes.
“Ngh–Goddamn, you feel so good,” Satoru groans, gripping your ass so hard that he’ll leave fingerprints. “How are you this fuckin’ tight?” His hand comes around to toy with your lips, his long fingers prying them apart so you can suck on his digits.
“You’ve got me so c-close,” Suguru grunts in your ear, stammering out his words. “N-Need…oh, fuck, I need to go harder.” Harsh pants and heavy breaths leave his lush lips as he fucks you faster, his balls slapping against your clit. “You want that too, mama? Do you want us to make you cum again?”
You bounce on their cocks between them, leaving crescent marks in Suguru’s shoulders as you dig your nails into his skin. “Ah, yes, yes, please! Make me cum again!” The two vigilantes slow their thrusts for a moment to share a look, silently telling each other the same thing: let’s slut this girl out.
Suddenly, you’re posted on your back with Satoru underneath you and Suguru on top, forcing you into semi-mating press with Suguru holding your legs open for his partner. Your moans and whines of pleasure bounce off of the walls as Suguru taps his dick against your pussy, ready to give you deep-dicking like you never had. “Ready, baby?” he whispers against your lips. “Beg for it.”
“Suguru–”
SMACK!
This time, both vigilantes spank you, on your pussy and your ass, the double assault making you yelp. “Beg,” Satoru growls in your ear, gripping your throat. His cock is nestled deep in your ass, not moving, just there, driving you to the brink of insanity. You can’t think. You can only feel.
“Please fuck me,” you whimper out. “Make me cum again, sirs. Please.”
And so they do. They fuck you until you’re seeing stars and forgetting all about your stupid mission. They fuck you with all the mercy of sinners, drilling your holes. They fuck you into the rickety little bed until it rocks and squeaks, fuck whoever hears. Satoru fucks up into your ass while Suguru rams your pussy, the push and pull of their thrusts pulling your soul right out of you.
It doesn’t take long for that knot in your core to snap. “Oh, fuck!” you whine, damn near screaming for all to hear as you cum hard around Suguru’s cock. You don’t have time to warn them–it just happens, exploding out of you. Suguru moans as you tighten around him, drawing his cum right out of him. “Cum for me,” he groans. “Shit–c’cmon, baby, cum! Give it to me!”
Your orgasm hits you hard and intensely, sending you on a trip as you thrash in the vigilantes’ hands. Your pussy and ass grip their dicks tighter than a vice as you cream onto Suguru’s cock, coating them both from cockhead to balls in your juices. They share a slutty moan in pleasure by how tight you’ve grown, gripping and stroking them until they have no choice but to cum.
Satoru’s thrusts grow sloppy as your asshole massages the spunk out of his dick, making him whine in pleasure. “Gonna cum!” he whines. “F-Fuck, I’mma cum for you, baby!”
“Me too,” Suguru groans, eyes squeezed tight from how tight you are. How velvety and wet you feel. “Take it all…all of it! It’s all for you.”
You gasp as you feel two hot loads of cum shoot deep into your holes, making you gasp. The moans of release that escape the men are fit for a porno, their thrusts growing sloppier and erratic as they chase their orgasms inside of you. But that isn’t enough for them. Slowly, still hard as rocks, they pull out and have you on your knees so they can pump the rest onto you.
Their moans, gasps, and grunts fill the room as warm spunk hits your face, dripping down your cheeks, lips, neck, and juicy tits, making your skin sobbing wet and sticky with him. Your breath comes out in short puffs of air as you recover from the vigorous fucking, completely spent. You kneel there, body aching, pussy and ass sore from being stretched.
You feel perfect. Even when the effects of the bomb begin to wear off, you still feel that addictive satisfaction that comes after some good sex. Even when the vigilantes recover and that awkwardness grows in the room, you feel no regrets. You can’t help but wonder what it means.
After a while, still in the bed with each other, Satoru is the first one to speak. “Well, uh…that was unexpected.” He clears his throat, cheeks flushed pink. Even Suguru looks shy now, his muscles glinting in sweat. You don’t say anything, too afraid to do so. You aren’t too sure what to say anyhow. You desperately want to say something to cure this horrible silence, but Satoru beats you to it. “So…what do we do now?”
Suguru, tying his hair up in a long, sexy ponytail, looks around for a solution. “Guess find a way to get out of here without alertin’ the cops. What do you think?” He looks at you now, expectantly.
You feel hot with their eyes on you now, a lump growing in your throat. “U-Uh…well, sure. But it might be awhile before the side effects of the bomb wear off.” The words are out before you can stop them. What exactly are you implying? That you want them to stay? That you want more?
You open your mouth to try and take it back, but Suguru is already agreeing: “She’s right. We’ll definitely need to recuperate.” You gape at him, surprised, and see the little wink he shoots you. Satoru yawns, stretching his muscular arms high over his head. “Sounds like a plan. I think that bomb had a sleep potion too!”
You feel those damn butterflies return, realizing that tonight isn’t over. “But there’s only one bed though,” you state, looking at the small, rickety bed you’re sitting on. The vigilantes just smirk at each other and then at you, making you burn.
“Then I guess we’ll have to share,” Suguru coos, raising an expectant eyebrow at you. That won’t be a problem though, will it?”
You don’t dare tell him that it isn’t. You just let them sandwich you between them in the bed, limbs tangled and the afterglow engulfing you the same way your vigilantes do. You can’t hide the satisfied smile that grows on your lips as silence descends upon you again…but this time, it’s nothing but bliss.
“We should be safe to depart here,” Suguru murmurs, coaxing you to walk up the small staircase to the rooftop first.
You do so, your high heels clicking across the gravel as you sneak into the night air. The vigilantes follow right after, now in their super suits and masks. After some recovery and after-sex cuddling, Suguru passed you a towel to sob up the cum from your skin and Satoru found your clothes.
After slipping your dress back on like nothing happened, you snuck out of the room with the vigilantes through a loose floorboard that dropped you into the basement. From there, you went out the back of the museum and up the fire escape to the rooftop, figuring that escaping by air would be better than risking being seen by a cop.
The side effects of the bomb have since worn off, but the feelings of lust are still there. After such amazing sex with the two heroes, it is impossible to not crave more. You stand before them now in the night air, the starry sky the perfect backdrop for them. Satoru clears his throat, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, uh…this was fun. Pretty interestin’ night, I’d say.”
“Yeah,” you awkwardly say, your heart pummeling in your chest. You stare at both of them, trying to get a sense of where their heads are at from their eyes. “So you guys gonna go back to the batcave to discuss this or–”
Beep, beep, beep!
“Night Owl? Come in, Night Owl. What's happening over there?!” The panicked voice of your boss comes from in your clutch. You gasp, unzipping it and fishing out your earpiece. You had it this entire time?!
The vigilantes look just as shook as you feel when you clear your throat, already sensing the inevitable. “Night Owl is present, boss,” you say as firmly as you can into your ear piece. “I’m alive. Um…just out of curiosity, how much of that did you hear?”
You desperately hope that your boss is clueless as to what you’re talking about, but you know you won’t be that lucky. Judging by his awkward pause, you guess he heard everything. “Uh…just enough. Did you find the targets?”
You try to think of something professional to say while also letting the vigilantes off the hook, but Satoru speaks for you. “Oh, she did!” he chirps with a grin. “And now she’s about to make us talk with some extra torture device. Thanks for checkin’ in!”
Quickly, you end the call and toss the ear piece back into your clutch. “I’m so totally fired,” you sigh. Satoru shrugs, placing a hand on your shoulder, making your skin tingle. “You could always come work with us. Wouldn’t mind havin’ you around for some Gotham bullshit.” His smirk is sexy yet genuine. Not a hint of humor in it. He’s serious.
You cock your head at him, sizing him up with your eyes. You did your best to fix the makeup that the cum wiped off, including your pretty eyeshadow and mascara. “I thought you work alone,” you tease with a hand on your hip. “Especially you, Red Hood.”
You nod at the tall, long-haired vigilante who has been checking you out for all the minutes you were chatting with Satoru. “I do…but you’ve got some potential.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, eyeing you up and down. “You’d definitely need to be trained to be my trusted sidekick though.”
Your body zings at the flirty banter between you, so natural and easy as if you’d been doing it for years. “I’m nobody’s sidekick,” you scoff, eyeing the superheroes down. “But I’ll give it some thought.” Satoru rolls his eyes like you’re playing so hard to get while Suguru chuckles. “Fine. In the meantime, you keep your hands to yourself.”
The Nightwing puts his hand out for a shake. After some time sizing up his intentions, you take it, shaking his head, only to gasp when he pulls you into his body. His lips are suddenly at your ear, his voice low and hushed. “Unless you want another personal visit,” he purrs in your ear.
Lucky for you, you know how to play the game of seduction. Plus, the idea of toying with the sexy vigilantes of Gotham, making them lose their cool, doesn’t seem too unexciting. “Hm. I may just take you up on that,” you hum into Satoru’s ear, gently kissing his cheek and leaving a ring of gloss there.
You do the same to Suguru, standing up on your tip toes to give him a kiss. You feel his body stiffen as you leave a sticky print there, marking him up. Then you take a step back, smiling coyly. “Thanks for the fun tonight, boys,” you purr to them. “And for the souvenirs.”
Their dreamy expressions turn to confusion, brows scowled. Your smile widens as you flash them the diamond in your clutch before quickly getting out your rope gun and hitting the button.
Before either of them can yank you back, you’re soaring through the air across the rooftop and landing perfectly in your heels on the rooftop across from the museum. You turn back to them staring at you in awe, but they are smiling. “You little sneak!” Satoru yells across the night at you. “We’ll get you back for that, Night Owl!”
You blow each of them a kiss, winking. “Lookin’ forward to it!” you giggle. “Farewell, batbrains!”
And then you strut off into the night, feeling like a new woman.
╰ breakfast, lunch, and dinner, these pro heroes are STARVING!
pairing(s): katsuki bakugo x reader, shoto todoroki x reader, izuku midoriya x reader, denki kaminari x reader (separate!)
18+ MDNI. CUNNILINGUS, fem! reader, lots of pet names, fingering, spit, face sitting, pussy pronouns, talking you through it, butt play and butt plugs (izuku), pussy spanking, (izuku), making you BEG for it, manipulation, crying, stretching you out, dirty talk, down bad shoto, denki cumming in his pants, wedgies?, panty ripping, teasing, overstimulation .ᐟ
Katsuki Bakugo swore he could handle the weight of you sitting on his face, and when you reluctantly agreed, knees wobbling as you gripped the mahogany grain of your shared headboard to hover on top of his panting chest, you never would’ve expected him to adore the feeling of you suffocating his carved jawline.
He had the best seat in the whole fuckin’ house, plump pussy lips spread open inches above his mouth with a ‘pop’, the mess of your heightened arousal deliciously decorating the flesh ‘n swirling prettily around your smooth thighs.
“So fuckin’ pretty baby.” His huge hands find purchase in the sides of your hips, fingertips gripping the thick flesh to spread you open even further, the most personal parts of your body gaped wide open for his greedy viewing.
“Look at ya,” Katsuki breathes in, inhaling the sugary scent of your sex, the smell instantly watering his tastebuds, “can’t believe this s’all mine.”
“Just feel like I might hurt yo—oh fuck!” Two large palms quickly move to grip the flesh of your withering hips dropping, cunt planting firmly down to his opened maw.
A ravenous growl rumbles through him, the saccharine droplets of slick quickly swiping across his nose bridge, coating his cheeks in your aroma. His long pink tongue flicks out to slot between your lips, kitten licking a trail of salvia up your slit.
“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet baby,” he’s moaning, the sounds muffled by the weight of your entrance fully smothering him, yet he’s loud enough for you to hear him, voice low and vibrating your clit, “stop movin’ ‘n lemme take care of my girls.”
Licking and slurping, the noises fill the bedroom, silky wetness so egregious it rivals the sobs slipping from your shocked face. “Katsuki!” It’s astonishing how easily he holds you still, even as your legs completely give out beneath you. Bulging biceps hardening against your thighs and lifting you up, up, up! to the ceiling, gripping you perfectly in place to lick your walls clean of sap.
“Thinkin’ you’d hurt me? That I can’t handle you?” He’s questioning, tongue sliding down to your tight hole, digging the flicking the fat muscle up into it, “would let you kill me as long as you were the one askin’, baby.”
The gravity only works you closer, body caging in your hips to rock against his mouth, skilled tongue diggin’ in and out of your clenched hole, the button of his nose smushing into your clit. “Oh Kats, s-shit! I—too much! C-Can feel you everywhere!”
Holding onto the headboard for dear life, the wood grain begins to squeak at the hinges, soft nipples hardening when you press yourself tightly against it, the cold texture sending shivers down your spine.
“Can’t help it,” Katsuki's tongue travels back up towards your clit, placing a sloppy kiss to the warm bud, “tastes so damn good, baby.”
You throw your head down to the top of the headboard, drool collecting at the sides of your mouth. Squishy cheeks pressing deeply into grain in an attempt to stifle your moans, eyes slamming shut to savor the feeling of him absolutely ravishing your sex.
He looks up, passionate crimson eyes squinting and blond brows furrowing when he can’t find your face looking down at him. “Oi!” His strong arms prod at your thick hips, swiftly pulling you further down to his chin, your body tumbling backwards.
“H-Huh?” You should have never underestimated his strength, large hands easily spaying around your ass to throw you around like a ragdoll, fingers white knuckling at the soft flesh he grips snug to his mouth. “W-Wha—”
“—Quit hidin’,” he mumbles, teeth nipping at your inner thighs, placing a graphic porno-sounding kiss to the skin, the slick residue from his swollen mouth painting your skin, “needa hear you screamin’ so I know I’m doin’ a damn good job.”
Biting your lip, you rapidly nod down at him, jaw falling open as he begins to rock you on his lips, pink tongue flattening on your slit and applying even pressure.
“K-Kats—mmfuck! Gettin’ close.” Your voice comes out high pitched, a sinful moan roaring from the back of your aching throat, fingertips hooking into the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead to rock against him, mouth perfectly rolling the gooey flesh of your clit.
“Take what ya want from me, know you deserve it,” he’s grumbling beneath you, hand reaching up to spay on your tummy, digits traveling up your navel and towards your breasts, fingers rolling around your nipple. “Know you’re close baby, give it to me, yeah?”
Katsuki knows the exact moment you finally break, head thrown back with a sob, your slick coats his face, hips rapidly rolling fast around the slope of his nose to ride out your high, cunt drenching his face full of your glistening essence.
“Tsuki—Stop!” The high hits you much harder than usual, the strong pink muscle pulling every last ounce of pleasure out of your sore clit, causing you to jump off his face with a yelp, “too much!”
“Where you goin’,” he scoffs beneath you, palms massaging the soft flesh of your ass to anchor you back down, his tongue finding your used hole, “‘m not done yet, come ‘ere.”
It all started with that damned house dress, the one you slipped on just as you tumbled out of bed, body completely bare beneath the silk.
Seeing you standing in the kitchen swirling sticky honey into a steaming mug, every last sense of rationale Shoto Todoroki had left inside of him quickly evaporates, leaving the man at a standstill in the doorway. It’s as if he was still stuck in a dream, a dizzy bout of sleep walking he doesn’t dare pinch himself awake from.
Shoto’s legs move on their own accord, bare feet stepping off the tatami towards you. The hardwood flooring speaks before he can, the paneling creaking beneath his heavy frame.
“Shoto?” You’re asking, popping your head over your shoulder, and when you see him standing in the doorway, you're smiling—eyes wide as saucers.
You twirl around to greet him, skirt easing off your hips as the fabric swishes in the air, “was getting started on some tea, I know you like to make it but I thought I’d surprise you.”
Shoto can’t speak.
Not when you’re looking at him like that.
Shoto desperately wants to fill the empty void due to his lack of response, yet every word falls flat on his lips, heterochromia irises far too focused on your presence to think of anything else.
It wasn’t like you were wearing anything special. The airy, cloud-white garment hung loosely on your frame, chantilly lace wrapping around the swell of your breasts matching the hem at your hips, the length cutting off just above the small divot between your thighs.
You looked angelic, and when the sunlight cut through the opened window, warm hues dancing over your features like a painting, Shoto found himself tumbling down to his knees.
“Sho? Are you okay?” Gasping, your hands grip his forearms, the stocky man easily wrapping himself around your front, red and white hair spaying over your abdomen.
He can only find it in himself to shake his head ‘no’, hands fisting the fabric on your thighs, lips pouting into the silkened garment. “I love you.”
You laugh, fingertips grazing the hair out of his eyes, his chin digging into the soft spot just below your navel, feeling his warmth surround your skin. “I love you enough that I want you to get off the floor,” teasing him, you reaching behind you to turn off the stove, giving him your full attention. “You’re looking at me like you’re going to eat me alive or something.”
Oh? But I am.
The words linger, never daring to leave his mouth.
It’s unfair, he thinks. Everything about you is so perfect. You always know exactly what to say whenever there’s an uncomfortable beat of silence, how you’re so kind to everyone you meet—including himself, showing your appreciation in the small moments that many others would ignore.
Shoto can feel his heart swell in his chest, blood pooling to his ears, the tips surely shining the brightest shade of merlot.
“Love when you wear this,” he mutters, head bowing to place a chaste kiss to each thigh, soft lips mumbling into the flesh, “you are beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it, Sho.”
I’d like to rip it off.
He’d buy you ten more if he could; if you’d let him that is, all to tear the flimsy fabric to shreds, a shameless cycle of his devotion to you.
Shoto doesn’t realize his hands have fallen onto your legs, palms gliding smooth over the skin, hands massaging your hips. He kneads the skin just to feel the way it pebbles beneath his grip, the slightest hint of your blood thumping through your veins instantly grounding him in you.
“Sho,” it’s your turn to grip at the fabric, body flushing with the tiniest bit of warmth that pools in your belly at his groping, the hem treading just above your bare mound, “d-don’t know what’s happening but—”
“—You.” He’s growling, voice slicked in the same way the honey sticks to the forgotten ceramic mug, face diving between your legs.
Shoto doesn’t ask as he’s spreading you open, tongue indulging in the way your silky slit coats his tastebuds, the heady flavor causing him to moan, voice shaking. “You happened.”
Taken aback, the sheer force of his greedy muscle licking you clean makes your hands shamelessly bundle the fabric frantically off your hips to gaze down at the starving man, his eyes closed to focus on funneling his tongue deep inside of you.
“Shoto! Oh my god! W-What are you—”
“—Showing you how much I love you.”
Your cunt was his altar, the delightful sap-like nectar seeping out from your drenched folds his savior, lapping the honey slick as if it’s his last meal on earth, one to praise and devour all at the same time.
“Love you,” he’s moaning, reddened tongue making out with your sex as if it was another pair of your lips he was kissing instead, mouth moving in tangent with his words, “love you so much.”
“Sho! Love you too, l-love your mouth.”
“Keep talking,” he smiles, head bowing up and down with each fat lick to your cunt, his tongue prodding the fleshy bits of your sensitive nub, pleasure blossoming in your upper thighs, “tell me how you’re feeling, honey.”
“Wha—I can’t!”
Not when he’s devouring you with a fever you can’t seem to recognize. Tongue soft and sweet; licking every little crevice between your legs, mouth taking every last rational thought from your mind out of your body with a suckle to your clit.
“Please,” he’s begging, widened pupils gazing up at your fucked out face, “tell me what you love about it, talk me through it.”
In fear of him halting his moments, you’re talking faster than you can think, words shakily fumbling out of your withering chest. “Your mouth,” you moan, thighs shaking at the force of him kitten licking your clit, “a-always take your time—shit! So warm ‘n soft.”
“Keep going, love.”
His hands move you easily, arching your hips to allow his long tongue to plug its way into your aching hole, the action causing you to squeak. “Oh your hands Shoto! Love your hands s-so much.”
“Want me to use them?” He asks gently, dominant hand leaving your hips to prod at your entrance, anxiously awaiting your approval.
How could you possibly tell him no?
“Please.”
His finger dips between your lips, the digit easily swallowing up past your entrance from how wet it is, knuckles pressing into you with a ‘squelch’. He pistons it in and out of your hole, tongue latching on your clit to create a seal, loud slurping sounds echoing from damp skin.
It would be dirty if it was anyone else other than Shoto.
“Shoto! D-Don’t stop—please, please don’t stopppp.” Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes as he adds another finger to the equation, fingerprints curling up into your g-spot to brush the point of no return, your sobs turning into wails of pleasure.
“Close? I can feel you squeezing.”
“Yes, yes!” You were stricken by some life altering hysteria, mind utterly preoccupied by the way Shoto worked your cunt wide open, “want—gonna cum in your mouth.”
“Go ahead, I’ll take care of you,” he’s whispering, mouth muffled by the sound of your pussy, nose deep into the puffy flesh of your mound.
Clammy fingertips grasp at his hair, gripping a handful of hair to roll your hips against him. You’re not sure what you're going for, yet nonetheless you chase it, curses falling from your slacked mouth. “Shit, shit, cumming!”
The sensation hits you all at once, Shoto’s hands, his mouth. He will always take care of you, always worship you, even in the kitchen on his hands and knees in the early hours of the morning.
Flurries of sputtering stars burst behind your eyes, Shoto’s hand holding you in place as you ride it out, hips shaking, spine aching.
When he finally pulls away, licking your slick off his lips he’s smiling, hands finding yours.
His fingers are wet. Your tea still isn’t made.
Izuku Midoriya's been waiting for this all day long, discovering you tucked snugly in bed awaiting for him to finally come home, your frame slowly snoozing between the sheets.
His tartan suit was half way off, beige dress coat hanging over the peg of the bed frame, white sleeves of his button up rolled past his elbows, work badge still hanging from his stocky chest.
He’d woken you up in a daze, scarred hands spreading your legs wide open for him, cunt gleaming in the lowlight of the yellow lamp, your nightie barley clinging to your skin.
“Was waiting up for you, didn’t think you’d be so late,” you’re mumbling, voice shy.
He gleams. Of course you waited for him, cunt leaking and begging to be touched, holes ready for him to toy with.
“I’m sorry baby, a-and thank you for being so patient,” he’s murmuring into your neck, taking a deep breath and smiling when he smells traces of his body wash on your skin, “want to make it up to you, will you let me?”
An hour later he had you fully awake and stretched out for him, knees kissing either side of the mattress with his favorite green hued plug popped inside your tight ass, the customized authentic jade gemstone poking out between your cheeks.
“How are you feeling?” Izuku asks, face inches away from your cunt, watching the soft rise and fall of your belly, pussy dripping slick down to the white sheets.
“G-Good,” you’re stuttering, tight ring clenching the metal protrusion inside of you, words glued to your tongue so nicely; gooey mind worried you’ll say the wrong thing starting to scare you, “feels really good ‘zuku.”
“Good.” He parrots, running two fingers that rest on your knee up towards the inside of your thigh, the soft skin feeling like butter on his calloused fingerprints. “I think you’re ready for something else though, aren’t you?”
“Y-Your mouth? Please?” Your woozy eyes look down at him, body shivering as goosebumps erupt everywhere he’s touching you, a hopeful dopey smile spreading on your shiny cheeks.
“You’re silly,” he’s almost chuckling, chest swooning at how devoted you are to him, mind and body completely vulnerable to his heavy presence.
His fingers dip into the crevice just beside your mound, trailing a ghost-like touch up and down to watch you writhe against the mattress, nipples hardening in the dim lighting.
Two fingers lightly touch your clit, the thick digits forcing your slit wideee open, the sloppy sounds of your lips widening to fit him forces your sensitive body to heat up in embarrassment, face smushing into the side of your pillow.
“A-And you’re mean,” mumbling, you suddenly jump at the contact, a firm slaaaappp! landing down on your clit. “Izuku!”
You feel your clit begin to throb, the rapid heartbeat in your chest traveling down to the aching bundle of nerves as he goes right back to massaging it, his eyes absorbing your wild reaction.
Clenching down, the plug presses itself even deeper inside you, the cold metal working its way around your ass, the width squeezing around your sensitive walls.
Izuku goes back to massaging your clit, the soft touch doing little to stimulate it, hips jerking up to reach his touch.
He pulls back, slotting the slick coated fingers into his lips, tongue licking them clean. “Mean? You think this is mean?”
Suddenly, two thick digits are plunging into your cunt, walls clenching down around the protrusions, hot womb easily sucking him in, fingertips hitching knuckles deep.
“Fuck!” You’re mewling, head thrashing.
You wanted him to be inside you think, mind woozy as your holes become equally filled, the pressure of the large plug shifting his chunky knuckles up towards your g-spot—still not fully touching it, yet letting you feel that he’s there.
“Still so tight,” he’s observing, watching the way your pussy expands to take his fingers, the tight lil’ hole squelching for attention around them. “Can feel you sucking me in… feels good, doesn’t it?”
You can’t respond as another finger joins your slit, the pointer finger long and prodding as it slips inside, the stretch forcing a cry out of your dry mouth.
Izuku talks you through it, tells you just how good you’re doing for him, coaxing your body to relax for him, now three fingers deep.
“Let me in, you’re almost there.”
“Doing so good for me, baby. Look so pretty stuffed full of me.”
“You trust me, right?”
You focus on his words, body contorting around his intrusion deep inside of you, fully relaxed to take whatever he gives you.
“Izuku?” The pain quickly blooms into pleasure, an uncomfortable sensation building deep inside your core causing you to beg. “Want your mouth so bad Izuku, e-everything feels too tight—too full!”
Izuku almost feels pity for you.
His pretty baby begging for release, pleading for a smidge of attention from him.
“Since you’ve been so good tonight, maybe I’ll give you what you want?” He’s coaxing you to say what he wants to hear, emerald green eyes laser focused on the soft prodding of your squishy mound, fingers swabbin’ around in your gushy insides like he’s trying to memorize the ridges of your canal.
“Please Izuku,” wishfully thinking, your words slur, spine arching off the bed to greet his freckled cheeks, warm breath tickling your slit.
He places a kiss on your clit just to watch you squeak, eyebrows raising down at you like a hawk watching his prey. “Please what? Use your words.”
“Please use your mouth,” you’re whining, yet he doesn’t move, your eyes widening, “Izuku, can you please u-use your mouth and…”
“Go on.”
He wants to hear you say it out loud. The very words that always cause you to shy away from him, the perverse nature of the descriptions of what you desperately crave from him heating your body up.
“Please eat me out.”
You must really want to cum tonight Izuku’s thinking, his thighs tensing at how sweetly you’re asking, wide eyes gleaming over with sex.
He doesn’t respond, and right when you believe he’s about to stand up from between your legs, an arm anchors around your lower belly, mouth diving in between your legs.
Izuku is messy with it. All tongue and meticulous direction, he teeters between light swiping and harsh sucking against your nub, fully coating himself in slick.
“Mppf! Zu! Oh god!”
He’s purposely holding you from bucking off the mattress, rather having you thrust around in his grasp to feel how his pleasure blooms throughout your body.
His large fingers reach spots inside of you yours could never, rapidly flicking up into your spongey g-spot, he easily stretches out the muscle to take what he wants.
“I’m close—”
“—already? Such a good girl.” He has a way with making you hold on to every word he says, Izuku’s heavy presence invading your space in every way possible.
The only thing you can picture is him, the way his fingers smooch your pussy, tongue licking your clit; even down to the plug, stuffing you completely, all because he asked so nicely.
“Izuku, Izuku, Izuku!” You’re the fullest you’ve ever been in your life, tummy bulging as he flicks his fingers up, the depth so strong you can almost taste it.
You throw your head back, eyes slamming shut to devote yourself in the feeling, your high coming head on, body unable to escape the way its throwing you off the edge.
“Don’t go shy on me now, look at me.” Izuku’s pulling you from that ledge, dripping eyes peering up at him in awe, irises daring to roll back into your skull as he eats you like an animal, fingers scooping your cunt.
“There she is, mmmm my pretty girl,” he hums in approval, the vibrations heading straight to your clit, thighs shaking. Izuku notices, forearm pressing roughly into your lower belly, “oh baby, you’re so close, do you want to cum?”
Izuku is attentive, calculating the best possible outcome using your cunt as his test subject as the feeling takes over you, thighs tensing, toes curling.
“Yes, yes, yes! Please Izuku!” Mumbling, you get lost in the moment once he’s pressing his lips roughly to your clit, the pleasure overbearing, jaw dropping, mouth going silent.
“Go ahead honey,” he’s mumbling, fingers fucking your g-spot, your body breaking beneath him, “because after this one, you’ll give me another, right?”
“Fuck!” You’re nodding, mind blacking out into perpetual bliss, completely unaware the night is just getting started.
“Babe… didn't realize you were this wet, would’ve left Sero's place like hours ago.” Denki Kaminari can’t help but gawk at the painfully beautiful sight unfolding before him.
He’d been teasing you all evening, sitting you prettily on top of his lap whilst everyone else was far too focused on the movie playing in front of them to realize he was rubbing your clit beneath the blanket spread on your legs.
Darling lil’ pussy lips soaking right through lace panties, the skirt you wore granting him easy access as he dipped two fingers between them, pressing the fabric snugly into your slippery clit.
It was blatantly obvious when you were about to finally cum. Body twitching on top of him, legs shaking and muscles flexing. Each attempt to hide your mewls by chewing loudly on pieces of popcorn or sipping your drink, Denki would quietly laugh in your ear, gold earring cold against your skin, as he’d quickly pull his hand away from the mess he’d made to rub at your thighs instead, wrinkled fingertips edging you to soaked oblivion.
When the movie was finally over and you were waddling around in a puddle of slick with legs like jelly, Denki rushed your goodbyes, swearing that he couldn’t get you home any faster.
Feverishly pulling you down onto the carpet of the living room, the anticipation of tasting you takes over him. Large hands flip your skirt above your belly, his golden locs situated snuggly between your legs to stare at the sloppy liquid pouring from your poor neglected pussy lips onto your panties, his mouth salivating at the sight.
“Stop teasin’ me,” you plead with him, the fabric so embarrassingly wet it nips at your heated slit, thighs uncontrollably sopping as Denki's tongue only makes it worse, a fat dribble of spit slopping against your covered cunt.
“I’m nottt—hey! If I knew it was this bad, I would've ate you out in the bathroom.” He’s laughing, voice sleazy, golden irises blown out and dark, pupils fully covering the amber hues.
His fingers pinch the fabric up, up, up! between your fat lips, watching them rapidly swallow up the material like they’re quenching for thirst, your fat cunt sticking out on the sides.
Gasping, you wiggle around in his grasp, hole pulsating and clit throbbing, your hips pressing up towards his nose, the slope catching on your covered clit. “You’re such a freak, a-and Sero’s a perv… he would’ve probably liked that shit.”
You can hear the same thick digits touching your lips begin to tug at the fabric, a dull ‘riiiiipppp’ screeching beneath you as he breaks the stingy fabric in two, leaving your bare glistening cunt shining in the darkness of the room.
“Not when I’m done with ya he won’t,” placing a slow lick from the bottom of your tight hole up to your sensitive clit, Denki groans at the taste, his own hips humping the floor, “it would suck having to buy him a new sink though.”
Your fingers find purchase in his hair, rolling the yellow tendrils between your hands in a tight grip, matching the hectic rolls of your hips to the lazy gyrations of his head.
“Fuck Denki!” You let out a relieved curse when he begins to suck on your clit, his wiggly tongue lapping every last drop of slick that falls from your hole, “I’m done replacing his furniture everytime we b-break it.”
“Want to-mfdph—I want to.” Denki's words are inaudible as he rapidly licks at your pussy, tongue getting completely lost in the feeling of your cunt rubbing his face raw, cheeks warm and covered in your essence.
You peer down at him, his eyes slammed shut as he shakes his head like a dog, mouth moving side to side. “What babe? C-Can't hear you over your sloppy mouth.”
“Shit,” he’s gasping, head coming up for air just long enough to take a sharp breath, his finger finding your neglected hole, “wanna fuck you in every room in his house, show everyone who you belong to.”
“Oh Denki, everyone already kno—oh, fuck!”
His finger instantly flicks up into your gummy g-spot, mouth latching on your clit to lap at the flesh as if he needs to taste you to survive, skilled tongue flicking up and down your sensitive bud.
“Denki!” The familiar hitch jumps deep inside your core, body heating up as your thighs clench around his head, voice cracking, “gonna make me c-cum!”
“Fuckkk-please, give it to me.” Moaning, his cock head manically weeps through the fabric of his pants, the taste of your gushing cunt pushing him closer to the edge, your voice causing his balls to tense up.
Denki’s hips roughly fuck into the floor with such veroccity it jerks him forward, your body fully rocking aginst his fingers, the knuckles traveling further past your walls.
“M-More! Fuck—Please!”
He groans in approval, slipping another finger into your stuffed hole. The burning stretch causes your waterline to prickle with the faintest globes of tears, fingers alternating between gripping the frills of your skirt and the strands of his hair, body teetering on the edge of your high.
“C’mon, you’ve got it babe,” Denkis mumbling into your clit, words vibrating deep into the slippery flesh sending little dull bolts up and down your thighs, knees shaking beside his ears, “soak me—pleaseee, need to feel it-ruin me babe—”
Your voice cuts him off, a wild mantra of his name rapidly falling from your slacked maw as you cum against him, little volts of electricity swirling around the sensitive nerves in your mound, body rolling in ecstasy.
“Fuck babe, jus’ like that,” he’s mumbling, ripping off your swollen clit to watch your face as you fall apart on the floor, his hips stuttering on the pale carpeting beneath them, “aw, shit!”
Before he can realize what’s happening, Denki is cumming untouched with a whimper, mouth returning to lap at your release while his own creates a syrupy mess in his pants.
The pleasure quickly becomes painful, clammy hands gripping him by the head to pull him up towards your lips, locking him into a sloppy kiss.
You moan when you taste yourself on him, palm falling down to fumble his belt wide open, pulling his shaft out of the material and swipin’ your hand over his red beating cock, his cum sticky on your fingers.
“Fuuuck,” he mumbles between your lips, dragging his face down to rub between your neck, sticking your slick onto your skin, “should have done that at his place babe, n-next time I’m dragging you to the bathroom, I swear!”
Your hand grips down hard on his sensitive cock, releasing a whine from the overstimulated boy. “Can you please stop talking about your friends when you’re about to fuck me, please?”
a/n: divider by @/cafekitsune okay… so! this started as a bakugo drabble and then i saw a vid on x that instantly reminded me of shoto and so of course, jenni got carried away
He cries to the Heaven above, There is a stone in my heart˚｡⋆ (2.6K wc.)
synopsis : kirishima offers some counselling to a drunken, lovesick katsuki, free of charge. what else are friends for ? #downbad #hesfuckingwhipped #loserboysuki
tags/CW. drinking, katsukis downbad oh he's so downbad, pining, katsu n kiri focused, kirishima is a good friend, katsuki's a lovesick constipated idiot, katsuki's drunk, fem reader, hinted idiots in love, slow-burn ? it's stated that it's been YEAAARS so lol, AH RIGHT kiri drinks from katsus drink and it grosses him out lol, i feel like kiri doesnt mind drinking off others
an. aaaahh i usually wouldnt go for an anime banner but i rlly like this one its so cutesie, thank you frank ocean n sade for the inspo pls go listen to pyramids and pearls while reading this the lyrics probs dont match lol but the vibes r there ! i got possessed while writing this so sorry if its no good but i had fun !
“mind if i sit here ?”
katsuki looks up, barely even lifting his head up from where it’s propped into the crook of his elbow. it’s kirishima, already knows that much without even having to look, but he does anyway. to show he’s still somewhat lucid.
“do whatever you want.” is what he wants to say, but the alcohol still on his tongue prevents him from doing so. he feels lazy, heavy and sluggish—all things he hates. and stupidly, all things he’s willingly done to himself.
so he shrugs, a barely there, broken grunt slips past his lips. kirishima takes it as his sign, his chair scooting back and grinding against the hardwood floor of the bar to sit next to the blond, the noise makes him cringe.
“y’know, i brought us all out here so we could have some fun.” he says, voice warm.
his chin tuts towards his group of friends a bit further, singing their drunken hearts out on some old karaoke song he can’t make out. everything feels jumbled and he wonders why he even agreed to come, it was stupid.
“wouldn’t have forced you along if you were gonna be so miserable.” it comes out joking, but without even glancing, from his tone of voice katsuki hears genuine regret in his voice. and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t pin the blame on him.
he knew it was stupid to even go along with the guys plans at a night out. he didn’t care about being the life of the party or brining the mood down, but even then he could find some semblance of fun in kaminari’s off key singing.
but there was nothing fun about this—moping all night, closed off from everyone because his head was pounding. pounding from the multiple drinks he’d knocked back earlier that evening to shut his brain up. he hates getting drunk, the alcohol was never worth the pounding headache the next morning and it didn’t even feel good. quite the opposite, most of the time he’d feel on edge and sleepy and irritable.
it wasn’t for him—this wasn’t for him.
it was all so stupid.
granted, katsuki is grown enough to admit he’s made plenty of stupid, uncharacteristic decisions tonight. but he’s not stupid enough to get shit face drunk. and he knows he owes his friend a some kind of response.
his voice comes out raspy “m’not miserable.” he grumbles. “just…not feelin’ it tonight.”
kirishima hums next to him, at ease. katsuki’s almost envious of his relaxed attitude, but he knows his distress is nobody’s fault but his.
“right well, at least i know you don’t work tomorrow. you wouldn’t be getting black out drunk like this if you had to be up at 5 on the dot the next day.” he chuckles.
“i’m not black out drunk.”
“you’re about to be.” kirishima eyes the half finished drink sitting limply in the blond’s scarred grip. he effortlessly removes it from his grips, sliding it all the way across to his side. katsuki offers up no resistance and shoves his cheeks into his arms. “let’s stop for now, yeah ?”
with an exaggerated huff, he agrees. “y’on’t have to stick around me, red. m’not gonna pass out. can handle my alcohol.”
kirishima was never one to force conversation, and when katsuki wished to talk he did—it was a nice balance and katsuki hates how easily the red haired pro could make him want to spill his guts without even having to say a word.
“what’s wrong with me wantin’ ta hang out with my buddy !” eijirou’s warm hand presses to his back, rocking him slightly causing him to groan. “plus you looked so lonely over here it just ended up makin’ me sad.”
“don’t need you to pity me.”
“stop looking like an abandoned puppy and i won’t, man. s’all there is.”
bakugou glares up at him, but there’s no real heat behind his gaze. kirishima remains unfazed, grinning at him.
“i’m fine.” he maintains, chin jutting forward against the wooden table.
“alright, man. whatever you say.”
it’s silent. so silent katsuki almost returns to his thoughts, the very thoughts that caused him to come here tonight in the first place. it makes him feel sick, feelings and alcohol were never a good mix. ever. he should know that—he does know that. but he’s being stupid tonight. maybe last week’s villain attack did something to jostle his brain around and cause some kind of never before seen idiot syndrome. the first of it’s kind.
without the restrictions of sobriety his thoughts make him scoff out loud. he pouts, petulantly like a child. his hand taps away at the counter now that it’s unoccupied. antsy—and yet kirishima remains unfazed. his gaze is turned away from him, but katsuki can tell he thinks he knows better.
that sooner or later he’ll spill all his secrets to him, like he was weak willed
well, him and that smug look could keep on dreaming because it wasn’t happe—
“fine ! fuckin’—whatever !” snapping, bakugou knocks his head to the counter hard, a groan leaving his mouth in irritation “dammit...”
kirishima doesn’t speak yet, but he simply brings the drink in his hands to his lips, to which katsuki frowns in disgust.
“what ? “ he raises a brow innocently “i’m not drinking from you ! i spun it around !” he demonstrates, twirling katsuki’s glass forward and back.
“…that’s fucking disgusting.” he groused.
“f’you’re not drinking it i’m not wasting it.” kirishima objects.
katsuki’s head falls forward again. “whatever, i don’t care anymore.”
…
a heavy sigh falls from the blond’s lips after a long silence. he takes the chance while his vision is covered to speak into the air.
“i don’t know what the fuck to do...”
it’s weak, slurred and sluggish. he hates it. he hates that he feels this stranded.
“i don’t know what to say, i feel like an idiot. dammit, i feel—”
stupid. he feels stupid.
and it’s all because of you.
softly, brokenly he says it with his lips smushed into his shoulder.
“i fuckin’ love ‘er, man… don’t know what to fuckin’ do with myself.”
kirishima sighs, he knows he can’t offer any words of comfort and katsuki knows it’s because he’s done it to himself and there was only logical thing he should do.
well, fuck that, he swears. he’d rather die.
“well, dude. i think you should just—“
“no.” he speaks adamantly.
“it could help you out even if—“
“i’d fucking rather die.” katsuki interrupts, fingers digging into his skin. it’s embarrassing because somewhere along the lines of his consciousness he knows he’s being stupid. unsurprisingly.
“i mean, i knew but—i didn’t think you’d let it get you this worked up.” kirishima bemoans, scratching his hair with a heavy sigh.
katsuki almost wants to get angry—he’s the lovesick fool here, not him !
but something else catches him off guard…did he just say—“
“hold up ! whaddya mean you knew ?!” he denounced.
kirishima looks none the wiser, it does nothing to calm katsuki down.
“what ? you told me you did.” he states casually.
“wha-no i fucking didn’t !”
“uh, you sure did, man..” kirishima giggles softly, eyes following the slowly melting ice in glass he’s twirling. “you remember when she had that watch party back in highschool ?”
thank god he isn’t shit faced drunk, because katsuki can remember that after a blink. he finally sits up, finally eye level with his fellow pro and former classmate.
“no, i didn’t.” katsuki rubs his hands down his face, a groans makes it’s way out of his throat but it more so resembles a whine of sorts.
a smile slowly morphs back onto his friends face, but he wipes his mouth. katsuki assumes he’s trying to give him some grace to not laugh in his drunken face.
“yup, you did.” he affirms again, finishing the last of his drink, down to the ice and talking with his mouth full. “you were half asleep we know how you get when you’re sleepy. we were walkin’ back to our dorms an’ i only mentioned how much fun we had, but you kept talking about her.” the man explains.
katsuki digs his face in his hands “fucking god—“
“then you kept talking about how she looks when she’s thinking and about how she smelled and how-“
“i get it !” he snapped, moving his hands to let his voice project before quickly hiding his face again. kirishima’s chuckle makes him wish he could just blow himself up.
“fuck off..” he fumed.
“i’m not the one stuck with a nine year long crush here, dude.” kirishima retorts.
fuck, he has nothing to say to that.
and if we’re being honest, he was way past a crush right now. what he felt for you, no matter how much paperwork he threw himself, how many villains he fought—how many interviews and karaoke nights he had to endure, you always made your way back to his mind.
he thought if he ignored it it’d go away. and when that didn’t happen he decided he could just tell you. but when he realised that it wasn’t that simple, that loving someone that much was heart achingly sweet and terrifying and he got cold feet every time he tried, he decided he just wouldn’t tell you. never ever.
but that wasn’t an easy feat, far from it. besides recovery, this was the hardest thing he’s ever done, he believes that whole heartedly.
and now, here he was. shoving bitter drinks back in his throat to forget how much he longs for you. your smell, your face, your touch—and yet it only made him long for you even more.
feelings and alcohol we’re a horrible combination, noted. if ever feels this stupid again, he’ll punch himself in the gut and set himself straight.
“i don’t know what to do..” he repeats, more vulnerable than before. it would embarrass him any other situation, but he knows kirishima well enough to know he isn’t the type to seriously mock him over this.
the man beside him sighs again, it’s kind and warm, like the damn good guy he is. katsuki’s sure that kirishima had more of a chance with you than a brute like him. he had the type of personality that made everyone want to be his friend and anyone who wasn’t felt like they were missing out. no wonder why he’s been climbing the ranks so quickly.
“i really think you have a chance though. i mean, you should see the way it looks from our point of view. you guys are like-head over heels for each other and you don’t even realise it !” he hums.
katsuki raises a brow once more “the hell is our ?”
eijirou chuckles nervously, humming in fake thought “probably like, the whole class. even todoroki, that was surprising.”
any type of question or exclamation dies in his throat, katsuki’s too tired to be surprised about anything else tonight.
“i think—me, personally-“ kirishima starts again, shrugging “that if you talked to her, if you told her, she’d tell you the exact same.” he insists.
bakugou scoffs, like he hasn’t already tried. “can’t do that. it’s just—“
it’s just that, embarrassingly, katsuki’s been holding onto these damn feelings for so damn long that he’s convinced that no matter when or how he asked—it’d never be able to come out smooth or suave. he’d end up professing his undying love to you like a bumbling, stupid nerd and he’d rather eat a chunk of his own hair straight off the bone than ever embarrass himself like that, even less so if you didn’t feel the same, despite what kirishima affirmed.
“it’s—not that simple..” he says weakly.
kirishima hums again “yeah, and it’s not gonna get any simpler. y’know, i’ve been hearing she’s been kickin’ it with someone.”
immediately katsuki, with the swiftness a drunk loser like him definitely shouldn’t have shoots up to glare at his friend. said friend offers him a sneaky side eye.
his eyebrows furrow “who ?” his voice is low, cold “tell me now, red.” he orders.
“i don’t know ! it’s what i’m hearing.” he raises his hands in surrender
“so gossip.” the blonde rolls his eyes, he can’t believe he got so stirred up on unfounded tabloid claims no doubt. but it still tugs at him. how can he be so sure you’re not seeing someone ? would you even tell him if you were ?
fuck. this is stupid, he knows it’s stupid. and yet—
kirishima is turned away, so he doesn’t notice the way katsuki’s settled, seemingly sobered up. “well again, it’s just speculation. you don’t have to—“
before he can say anymore, katsuki chair squeals from the force of him scooting it back. he haphazardly throws his jacket on. and shuffles around in his pockets to grab some cash.
“woah, man ! what’re—“
“i’m going home.” he growls.
kirishima’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets “are you kidding me ?! you can’t go home like this, i don’t wanna be the cause of pro hero dynamight’s untimely death !” he protests, trying to sit the man back down.
katsuki swiftly shrugs him off, eijirou worries if his prodding had went to far and his friend called it quits on this evening all together. but his face looks from the rage he’d expecte to see.
“so you fuckin’ take me home, then. you’re the one who brought me here.” he ordered, when he turns, he speaks lowly.
“got shit i need to do in the morning..”
kirishima snaps out of his stupor in three blinks, pure joy taking over his face that he cannot hide however hard he tries. “okay well—i need to say bye to the guys, but you can go ahead an’ wait outside, i’ll tell ‘em you got sleepy again.”
katsuki, suddenly full of energy, grunts. already walking off “you better not bring any crumbs in my car !” he demanded, before the front door bells clink shut with an abnormal amount of force.
after wishing his goodnights, sero makes his way to kirishima for a short chat.
“d’you get it out of him ?” he says it lowly, like somehow dynamight himself would manage to hear them from outside sitting grumpily in his car.
“i think so...” kirishima sighs “i feel kinda bad, though. i did lie to him.” he admits, sheepishly scratching the back of his head.
“that guy’s head’s thicker than a cinder block. it’s a necessary evil.” sero offers him a reassuring pat on the arm. “besides i need them to get that weird stare-down mating ritual over with. i was sitting in between them once, almost grossed me out of my food having them practically whisper sweet nothings into both my ears.” he jests, “s’not really my thing.”
kirishima throws his head back and laughs. “let’s hope the necessary evil was worth it, then.” he huffs a final chuckle, making his way to the doorway to his friend, who while determined, will most likely feel like shit tomorrow, for more reasons than one.
“he said he has to be up bright an’ early tomorrow, so wish him luck for that and we should be fine.”
kirishima brings back a katsuki who’s already limp and pliant with sleep. one already complaining about how much his head is killing him and passed out in bed barely having taken off his shoes.
and kirishima leaves him with a glass of water and his very best wishes.
gojo loves to treat you like a princess! there's only one little problem - you've never actually met him :\
synopsis: he's been your biggest supporter since you first started your career as a camgirl! so when he has the opportunity to meet you in-person instead of just through his screen? gojo will do (and spend) anything to make you his!
pairing: nerd!Gojo x camgirl!Reader
wc: 10.7k
content: mdni, SMUT!, camgirl, rich nepo baby gojo gifting you a dildo molded after his dick, masturbation, heavy yearning and pining, gojo is absolutely OBSESSED, kissing, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering + finger sucking, unprotected piv sex, mentions of birth control, cowgirl, creampie, loss of virginity, happy ending
a/n: this was a commission for @sadlittlecucumber !! gojo art is by @/to00fu + div by @/thecutestgrotto
blu3yedbigd1ck sent $XXX.XX
blu3yedbigd1ck: Use the blue one for me pretty?
You giggled. Giggled. And Gojo was pretty sure if he jerked off any harder, his dick was going to fall off. Some painfully tight thing throbbing in the pit of his stomach, aching as your delicate hand reached out and wrapped around the pale blue dildo – one he had ordered and shipped to the PO box you posted. Custom-made, of course, perfectly shaped and sized to match his, down to every vein and ridge.
“This one?” You tilted your head to the side, batting those beautiful lashes of yours as you teased him.
He groaned, balls tightening as he struggled not to cum from the sound of your voice alone, his other hand trembling as he typed on the keyboard.
blu3yedbigd1ck: Please baby
“Anything for my favorite fan,” you murmured, spreading your thighs further apart, showing him a full view of those pretty folds of yours while you guided his (fake) tip to the edge of your entrance. Slowly starting to slide it in, a lewd squelch ringing out as his grip on his self-control started to slip. “Toru.”
His breathing hitched, some deep strangled noise torn from his throat right as your face scrunched up in pleasure, bottom lip quivering as his length stretched you out. His name on your lips – one he asked you to call him once in private chats. The warmth coiling in his core had reached his face, cheeks flushing as if you could see him when he snapped. Pale fingers furiously stroking faster as he finished far before you were even close, ropes of sticky white cum about to shoot out when-
He woke up.
Just a wet dream. For the third time this week.
That was what he got for falling asleep to saved screen recordings of his favorite camgirl. Especially the one where you unboxed that special gift of his, beaming all pretty in 4K quality as you read the note he included in the box, thanking him by name.
He’d been watching your videos and livestreams for years now. Since you first started, back when you were only at twenty viewers and he occupied ninety percent of the chat. You were popular now, his messages now just a drop in a sea of men yearning after you or dropping lame lines like nice tits.
So, of course, when you opened up the options for VIP memberships – he signed up before you even mentioned the perks. He had more money than he could ever spend anyway, courtesy of the last name and ample banking accounts he was born with. The boring position he wasted his days at and the long meetings he sometimes snuck out of to watch more videos of you locked in a bathroom stall.
Not a single penny was wasted if he was spending it on you.
Buying pretty lacy lingerie for you to wear on your next stream. Sending in requests to see you in different positions or using different toys. Getting personal chats from you – sometimes even little recordings of your soft voice saying good morning.
Gojo probably replayed that one a hundred times getting ready, running his fingers through his hair to comb it and tossing on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of jeans from his floor after a fast shower, already running late to join Shoko and Suguru for their usual weekend brunch. Racing to make it there, sweat sticking to his arm pits by the time he pushed open the doors to some small hole-in-the-wall diner, the smell of bacon hitting him as he eyed a thick stack of pancakes on the closest table.
“Over here,” Shoko dryly called out, a flash of movement drawing his stare over to where she was sitting next to Suguru in a corner booth.
Gojo half-jogged to join them, mouth open and ready to offer an excuse before Suguru’s judgemental stare dragged over his sorry state.
“You’re late,” he commented. “Jerking off to her again?”
His friends didn’t understand.
Didn’t think that it was actually you, at least, messaging him.
Shoko called him a creep for having a crush on some stranger he’d only seen through a screen. Suguru, though? He was a bit more…creative.
“No,” Gojo defensively said, blushing hard as he slid in the booth across from them.
“Sorry, were you speaking to your AI girlfriend?” He deadpanned, cocking his head to the side. Goji heard it all before, most commonly when they went to the gym together to work out – which he admittedly only started doing when he started privately messaging you.
“She’s not-” Gojo huffed. “I-I-”
Shoko raised an eyebrow, not really believing him either as he stammered out weak protests.
You were real.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, his entire face lighting up as he read the chat. He’d changed your contact to something more intimate, even though logically, he knew it was probably cringy and Suguru would be sure to tell him as much if he ever saw it.
princess <3: toruuuuuuu
princess <3: how are you today?
His fingers were hurrying to type a reply, clumsily hitting letters just to have to furiously erase and fix his typos before he hit send.
blu3yedbigd1ck: Dreamed about you last night.
Suguru reached across the table and snatched his phone, dark brows furrowing as he scanned over the messages before his nose scrunched up in disgust.
“God, dude, could you not have picked something less creepy?” He groaned, tossing it back to him like he might have to pour bleach in his eyes out if he read any more. “You might as well have told her you jerked-”
Buzz. Buzz.
You already replied.
He was ignoring the rest of Suguru’s lecture, looking down at his lit-up screen to see your flirty replies back.
princess <3: oh yeah?
princess <3: what position?
His dick was getting hard again.
Straining inside his underwear as he shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. Trying to hide the fact he was about to be sporting a bulge as he stared dumbly at your little contact photo, unable to convince his own thumb to move to type.
But then bubbles popped up, and you were sending a third message.
princess <3: i was actually thinking about u too
That meant something, right? It had to.
“He's not even fucking listening,” Suguru complained, and Shoko was saying something back, pulling out cigarettes from her purse with a sigh, but he couldn't bother to look up.
Glued to the rectangle in his hands as a picture popped up in the chat.
There was nothing lewd about it, a perfectly innocent photo of you smiling in a pretty blue sweatshirt – and it somehow made it so much more intimate.
Blushing as you sent something else, trying to suppress his stuttering and swelling heart as it pounded inside his chest.
princess <3: your favorite color?
blu3yedbigd1ck: My favorite everything.
“Can you pay attention for like, two minutes?” Suguru groaned, and Gojo had to shove his phone back in his pocket, palms sweaty as he tried to focus on his best friend. Suguru was sighing, nodding towards the waitress walking over.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, wiping his hands off on his jeans before glancing over his menu.
But even half a plate of pancakes later, sipping on soda while Suguru talked about his problems with women – ones with warm bodies that had actually been in his bed – he was barely listening at all. Just nodding along, readjusting his glasses up the bridge of his nose and licking the syrup off his fingers. Shoko had stepped outside, her outline visible through the window as she leaned against the wall, the last of a cigarette dangling from her lips as small puffs of smoke floated past.
“You know,” Suguru sighed, dragging Gojo’s back from his daydream about being at a place like this on a date with you. What would you order? Would you sit across from him? Slide into the booth next to him and lean your head on his shoulder?
“Huh?” Gojo blinked, gripping his fork a little too tight.
“I was just saying I could probably hook you up with someone,” he said, thick fingers wrapping around the handle of his coffee mug, one brow arched as he tried to assess Gojo’s reaction.
“Nah,” Gojo shrugged, the idea of going out with any girl that wasn't you making his skin crawl underneath his shirt. “Not interested.”
Suguru’s jaw clenched, ready to call him a moron when Shoko strolled back in, easily reading the situation.
“He said no?” She asked, as if she'd been expecting it.
“I mean, I just don't really have time for a relationship right now, y’know-” Gojo started bluffing, trying to make it sound casual.
“You're too busy talking to a girl who probably uses a chat bot to talk to twenty other guys online,” Suguru sarcastically finished for him.
“She's not like that,” he protested, an ugly feeling stirring up in his stomach.
“You pay her to talk to you,” Suguru reminded him, and even though he was right, it still stung. “Wouldn't you rather be with a girl who likes you for you?”
How was he supposed to explain that he didn't care if you only wanted him for his wallet?
Gojo only wanted you.
But Suguru’s question stuck in his head. Stayed there for the rest of the day, going back home to stare at his chats with you, all the ones where you listened to him rant and ramble about his favorite games and shows, asking questions and exchanging interests. Looking back through the photos you sent him and the few he scrounged up the courage to send back. It was never his whole face, just part of his eyes or his hands. Most of the pictures he sent were of his meals, desserts he made or bought from his favorite sweets shop.
Did you think he was annoying?
Just a loser in love with you?
He turned his phone off, tossing it on his nightstand next to the tissues and lube as he collapsed on his bed, pulling the pillow down over his face as he groaned into it. Even when his eyes were shut, he still saw you behind them.
And the moment his phone started ringing with the specific notification he set to know you were streaming, he was sitting back up, scrambling to grab his laptop and switch to the tab always reserved for you.
It was funny how fast he forgot about everything else the second he saw your pretty face blinking back at him. Sitting up straight in a computer chair this time, no longer in that soft blue sweatshirt and instead in a barely-there nightgown that didn't leave much to the imagination as you greeted people joining the chat.
blu3yedbigd1ck: Hi beautiful
He hesitated, before adding a definitely absurd number of heart emojis he hoped would catch your attention.
“Hi there,” you hummed, face lighting up – and he held onto the hope it was directed towards him. “I have a little announcement to make today.”
You twirled a loose strand of hair around a finger, looking into the camera like you could see him through it.
“In honor of my latest milestone,” you started, smiling so pretty it was practically blinding. Struck with cupid’s arrow as he stared hopelessly at his screen, spit pooling in the back of his mouth and hanging onto your every word. “I wanted to host a very special celebration stream.”
The chat was already going crazy. Message after message being spammed, people sending in requests, emojis, compliments and complaints before you even announced what it’d be. Your eyes flickered over to where the chat was, reading the messages like you were waiting for one.
His fingers were already flying across his keyboard.
blu3yedbigd1ck: You know I’ll be there.
It was probably his imagination, but your face relaxed more, features brightening as you tilted your head to the side.
“One of my lucky top three spenders will get invited at the end of the month to join me on stream,” you softly said, and his brain stopped working.
Your words jumbled up and echoing in his head, pulled apart and pieced back together as he struggled to make sense of it.
Join you? Like, actually, meeting you? And if it was on stream, did you mean-
“Our winner will get to pick whatever they want to do with me,” you winked, before starting to rattle off a few rules and regulations you were obligated to – mentioning that you'd cover the costs of the plane ticket but that they'd have to pass a background check, blah blah blah – but Gojo was still stuck on that first sentence.
Anything he wanted?
Would you really take his virginity? Let him fuck you into those pretty pink sheets of yours until it was stained with your tears and his cum?
(Even if he was probably the one that would end up crying?)
You didn't say it was a competition.
But it immediately came apparent it was one after the donations started flooding in. People desperate to make you theirs. Losers like him itching to feel you for themselves.
Gojo had to fucking win.
He had watched almost every stream of yours. Even ones where you worked with other cam girls or guys, but he didn't know if he'd be able to stand his own jealousy if he wasn't on top.
Or the one underneath you for this.
The other assholes in your chat wouldn't appreciate you as much as he would. Wouldn't worship your body how he would. Adore every little twitch and tremble they earned.
Gojo was fumbling to grab his wallet off his nightstand, flipping through to find his credit card with the highest limit. His fingers were shaking as he typed in the information, barely listening to you talk about how you would donate a portion of the proceeds to some charity, just clicking away before sending an exorbitant sum your way.
A flicker of pride shot through him at how wide your eyes went when you saw it, suddenly stammering as your breath hitched in your throat.
“To-” You stopped yourself, catching the nickname before it could slip off your tongue. “You guys don't have to donate that much, I’m-”
He sent another one just to see the way your lips pressed together as you shut up.
Other people were sending in donations too, but it wasn’t like they could match his. Could measure up to him.
Although some of them tried, a few annoying contenders attempting to catch up when you shifted back to your more normal streaming mode, switching to a different camera and getting settled on your bed. A toy between your thighs, one that sucked softly on your clit as you threw your head back and filled his room with sounds of your breathy moans.
But his eyes were skimming over the chat, scared that his spot as top donator would be replaced. Honestly, it was the first time in fucking forever that he didn’t have his hand down his pants when watching you, too stressed that he might lose an opportunity he didn’t know if he’d ever get again.
He was fucking sweating, white strands of hair sticking to his forehead while he listened to you whine, prettily panting as he squinted at someone complaining that he was probably someone spending his daddy’s money to win.
Which okay, wasn’t totally untrue.
But they’d do the same if they were him.
He’d do anything to be with you.
Even if Suguru thought he was a moron. Even if you were only interested in him for money. Even if the most he’d ever realistically get with you was one night – and that was if he was lucky.
But luck was one of the few things he did have.
Fortune favored him – and after a few weeks of sending in donations every time he thought someone else might manage to usurp him, despite your private messages pleading with him that he really didn’t need to, that he was already in the lead, he couldn’t stop himself.
“Satoru,” you said his name like you were scolding him. “I told you-”
“Have you eaten dinner yet?” He changed the subject, listening to your little huff on the other end of the phone call you asked him for. Another little perk of his VIP membership. Sometimes, he sort of felt more like a sugar daddy, although he didn’t think the kind of guys that did that were usually twenty-something virgins who had never actually experienced the touch of a woman.
“Well, no,” you sighed, and he was already picturing what face you might be making. Were you pouting? Pushing out your bottom lip? Were your brows kitted together?
What kind of faces did you make when no one was around to see them?
“You can order yourself something,” he muttered. There was a brief pause, and he just knew you were still fighting to find something to argue with him with.
Did you not want him to win?
“I just don’t want you to not be able to eat,” you eventually said.
It took him a few seconds to process what you were saying.
That you, of all people, were concerned about him.
That was what Suguru didn’t understand. He didn’t know you. Didn’t get that you weren’t solely selfish or greedy. You cared.
“Sweetheart,” he lightly chuckled, heart soaring. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” You asked, voice lilting like it never did in your streams. It wasn’t practiced or put-together. This version of you, one he couldn’t even see, was somehow more real when it was raw like this. “You’re already like, way ahead of everyone else, y’know, I just-”
“I want to take care of you,” he quietly interrupted, awkward and nervous as he barely managed to not stutter.
Gojo meant it.
And he’d make sure you’d see it. Sooner or later. Still making sure his username stayed at the top in every stream until the end of the month crept closer and closer. Until he was anxiously tapping his foot on the floor of his bedroom, cock aching in his boxers as the moonlight drifted in through his window while he watched the strap of your lingerie slip off your shoulder.
He held his breath, heart thrumming loudly inside his chest as he waited for you to say it. Hoping for you and hating himself at the same time for being so pathetically attached to someone so out of his league.
“I’m going to message our winner of our little contest privately once the stream’s over,” you said, a gleam in your eyes he imagined was only for him as you addressed the audience.
He was pretty sure the seconds stretched out into hours once his screen went dark after you ended it. Staring down at his phone and choking on his own spit, desperately willing for a new message to pop up.
One did, but it was from Suguru, asking if he was busy.
Suguru: Can I drop by? I’m like five minutes from you
Gojo grimaced, ready to throw his phone on the bed, replaying what you’d first mentioned when you announced it. You just said one of the top three spenders, didn't you? So what if the guy in second place got it? Or even third?
Fuck, he should’ve paid more attention, shouldn’t he?
Now there was no fucking chance-
princess <3: soooo are you doing anything on the 30th?
He almost screamed. Or squealed. Or whatever the most manly version of crying in relief was, all the tension in his body suddenly snapping like a rubber band as he read and reread your message.
Gojo won. He won.
blu3yedbigd1ck: Just tell me the time and place and you know I’ll come.
And cum.
He paused, thumb hovering over his screen as he practically hyperventilated, freaking out inside and thankful you couldn’t see his face right now as he stood up just to pace. Did he sound suave? At least a little cool and collected?
princess <3: promise?
princess <3: send me your information?
He still couldn’t believe this was fucking real. That it was really happening to him. He still hesitated to type it out – wondering what you would do once you had his name. What would a background check reveal?
That he was a dork who rarely left his apartment outside of his responsibilities or the occasional hangout with his only two real friends? That he collected Digimon figurines?
He sent everything over with a fear that you’d find something out that would make you change your mind. Maybe you’d think he was just a loser riding on his family’s name like most other people did.
Or you-
Someone knocked on his door hard enough he froze and hit send on accident. His message with his full name in it immediately marked as seen, his cheeks heating up as he forced himself to look up as the pounding outside continued.
“Hey, put your dick up and answer the door,” Suguru called out.
Gojo grabbed his pajamas from where he’d left them on the floor earlier, hurrying to pull them up his legs before groaning at the realization it didn’t have any pockets. You hadn’t replied yet, but he couldn’t bring himself to just leave his phone on his bed, gripping it tightly in his palm as he hurried to go see what Suguru wanted.
His best friend was waiting outside the door for him, leaning against the frame and holding out a bag with to-go boxes.
“Hey,” he greeted, praying Suguru wouldn’t notice or comment on the bulge he was still sporting.
“Am I interrupting something?” Suguru muttered, one pierced brow arching up suspiciously as he still noted how pink his face was.
“Nah, just, um, watching stuff,” Gojo lied, like Suguru wouldn’t be able to see through him. As if in the ten years they’d known each other, he hadn’t figured out what face he made when he was hiding something.
“Me n’ Shoko are worried about you, dude,” Suguru sighed, holding out the bag for him to take before running his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “You never want to go out or do anything anymore.”
He had a point.
Gojo was getting addicted to you.
He wanted to tell Suguru that he was better than okay, that he was about to go out and actually do someone for the first time in his life. But he also knew what Suguru would have to say to that.
Suguru would tell him precisely what an awful idea he thought it was – scold him and say he was getting scammed.
So instead, all he did was grin, clapping his hand on Suguru’s shoulder and shrugging.
“Don’t worry, man,” he chuckled. “I actually just made some plans to go on a little vacation soon.”
He just left out that it was to see you.
It took a few days to sort out – you wanted to buy him plane tickets and book his hotel for him. But when you mentioned that he was closer than you expected, sending an address that was only a couple hours away, he said he’d handle it.
Why bother taking a plane when he could just drive there?
Be able to actually drive you around in his own car once he got to your city, y’know, if you were interested. Besides, he could always pay for his own accommodations – make whatever arrangements he needed without feeling like he was being a burden to you.
You protested, but Gojo won in the end.
He always did.
And on the 30th, he was waiting outside your door, one hand clutching a bouquet he spent thirty minutes struggling to pick out in the closest floral shop, and the other hesitating to actually knock.
He tried to hype himself up.
There were two condoms in his wallet, two gift bags hooked over his elbow, one stuffed full of lingerie in shades of white and blue. The second was something a bit more personal, in a much smaller bag. A gift he wasn't sure you'd even want, half-convinced you would just toss it in the trash once it was all over.
Gojo almost lifted his hand back to finally do it, to tap on the thick wood, but then he started agonizing about what to say when you answered.
‘Hey, it's the guy who pays your rent every month?’
God, no, that made him sound like an asshole. Desperate. Which, yeah, he was the latter, but he didn't want you to think that.
Should he try to act more like Suguru? Girls liked him. Could he pull off the whole quiet and contemplative thing?
The door opened before he could keep deliberating.
You were somehow prettier in person.
Standing there in a cute little dress that was practically sheer, a loose cardigan hanging over your frame that didn't conceal the way the slip clung to you underneath it. He recognized it almost immediately as one he purchased for you, his favorite color even better when it was on your skin.
“Hi,” you half-whispered, and he could almost convince himself you were looking forward to meeting him too.
“Hi,” he breathed back.
Way to go.
“Do, um, do you wanna come inside?”
“Yes,” he bluntly answered, and the tension in your shoulders relaxed, laughing a little as you opened the door wider. He was pretty sure his face had to be red, his filthy mind jumping to both meanings as he tried to get his feet to move and take him past the threshold.
He was staring at you, and you were staring at him.
Your soft eyes searching over him, studying him with an expression he wished he understood better. Dragging over his tall frame before returning to his face, like you couldn’t wrap your brain about it being him.
“It’s kinda silly, but I feel like I already know you. Can I still call you Toru?” You slowly asked, and he was finding it hard to stop himself from bouncing in place at how your voice washed over him. Syrupy, almost sugary, getting stuck on each syllable. “Or do you prefer Satoru?”
“You can call me anything you want,” he said before he could stop himself, hating how much of a fool he already felt like in front of you. Stiffly holding out the flowers for you to take, which you also took longer to accept.
“Thank you,” you smiled, stepping aside so that he could come in. He only managed to step forward when your stare shifted down to the bouquet. He hoped he got it right. Hoped he picked your favorites, and too sheepish to ask.
It wasn’t that he was timid, because he wasn’t, really. Just flickered from overconfident to sure he was being stupid.
“I don’t even think I have a vase,” you laughed a little, like you were trying to ease the tension simmering between you.
Was it just the awkwardness hanging there? Or something else?
“Do you want me to go get you one?” Gojo genuinely offered, wondering if he did something wrong already but you shook your head.
“I’ll figure something out,” you insisted, your free fingers reaching out to brush against his arm – and suddenly he was wishing he hadn’t worn a long-sleeved shirt. “Don’t leave.”
You didn’t need to tell him twice.
He'd go where you want. Do what you want.
Gojo couldn't stop staring at you, fantasizing with you in front of him over this domestic feeling in this chest. The casualness in your steps, padding barefoot over to the joint kitchen area attached to your living room. You started rummaging through cabinets, grabbing an empty glass pitcher and filling it up with water from the sink before stuffing the flowers inside.
“They're pretty,” you complimented, leaning over to sniff the delicate petals.
“Not nearly as pretty as you,” he replied, and you made a sound he had never heard before. A squeak? A squeal?
Something small and light and twinkling and so goddamn cute he stopped breathing for four full seconds.
“I can’t believe you’re actually real,” you exhaled, chest rising and falling just as fast as his was.
He blinked, struggling to figure out what that meant.
You saw his reaction, lips twitching up in a sweet smile like it was a good thing.
“I was kind of scared to get my hopes up,” you confessed, and Gojo felt a cold shard of fear being driven into his heart. Did he disappoint you or-? “But you’re way hotter than me.”
“You can’t just say stuff like that,” he half-whined, his hand reaching up to hide his mouth under his large palm. As if you wouldn’t be able to see the blush creeping up on his cheeks.
He never thought he was unattractive. But he was awkward, uncomfortable when it came to actually going on dates or at the idea of an actual relationship with a girl. He talked too loud, too fast, was the kind of know-it-all most people called annoying.
Maybe you liked his face, but he was really just paying you to tolerate his personality.
“Why not?” You giggled again, moving the flowers before walking back over to him. Tenderly grabbing his fingers before guiding his hand down like you wanted to look at him. Pinching his chin between your smaller fingers, tilting his head from side-to-side like you were appraising him.
Gojo could smell your perfume from here, and he was pretty sure his eyes actually rolled back in his head. It was intoxicating. You smelled like candy, but he bet you tasted even sweeter.
Completely frozen, stuck there as he stared down at you, blue eyes bulging as they zeroed in on the gorgeous little gleam in yours. Your manicured nails digging into his skin, not enough to cut, but to apply enough pressure to keep him still.
“It’s kinda hard to believe a guy like you is actually interested in me,” you freely admitted. Before your brows scrunched and you corrected yourself, “My streams.”
“A guy like me?” He asked, and you swallowed hard this time, avoiding your stare.
“You know what I mean,” you murmured. He didn’t.
“Tell me anyway?” He tried to tease, mouth twitching up in a smirk he hoped was charming.
“Fishing for compliments?” You grinned back, letting go of his chin to briefly cup his cheeks, patting it a little before you turned away.
But your eyes flickered back to the bags he was still holding, like you were silently trying to ask what they were.
He sat both down on the closest piece of furniture, an armchair that looked like it was barely used.
“Are those for the stream or-”
“Just for you,” he answered, and he was pretty sure he’d be chasing the feeling flooding his chest watching you beam back at him.
“Can I open it now or is it for later?” You followed it up, pulling off your cardigan and throwing it over the back of the chair.
It was just your shoulders, more of your arms, but it made him feel like he was seeing something holy, like he should be on his knees worshipping you or taking photos as if you were some piece of art he’d been admiring for so long from afar.
“Whenever,” he shrugged.
Was he being off-putting?
For a guy who always talked too much, who could never get himself to shut up, he suddenly seemed unable to come up with anything to say when all his words got choked up in his throat.
“I guess I’ll save it then,” you muttered, even though you looked like you were itching to open them now. It was better this way, though, he was barely functioning as it was. He wasn't sure his brain would still work if you offered to put on a fashion show for him in the new lingerie he bought you.
“O-okay,” he stammered, already flustered simply at the thought.
“So, um,” you paused, briefly biting your lips before jutting your thumb behind you. “Do you want to see my room?”
He dumbly nodded, feeling like a fucking moron making this more awkward as he trailed after you down the hall. You tried to fill the silence, casually asking questions he dutifully answered, his eyes constantly drifting back to you despite how interested he was in every part of your life he hadn't been privy to before as you pushed open your bedroom door.
It was weird viewing it from this new angle. Able to note new things he’d never gotten a glimpse at. It made him feel special, as if he was sharing this secret with you – although an annoyingly logical part of his brain wanted to suggest you film from a proper set instead of the intimacy of your actual bed.
“I cleaned up before you came,” you hummed in front of him, sitting in the spinning chair by your desk, turning on your computer and starting to adjust the settings for the stream.
“You didn't have to do anything for me,” he quietly said, toning himself down into something he hoped was more appealing to you as he examined the little trinkets on your desks. Stuffed animals you kept out-of-sight on stream.
“I'm, uh, also on birth control, so as long as you're clean, you don't have to wear a condom,” you added, a hint of anxiety bleeding through, as if you were seeking his approval.
“Um, I'm, uh, clean,” he said, turning away so you didn’t notice that he was hard just from the idea of sex with you.
“Satoru,” you spoke his name like it was something precious. Pronouncing the syllables like you were really his friend. “Are you nervous?”
“Is it that obvious?” He chuckled, reluctantly looking back at you to meet your sympathetic stare. “I just, I’ve never…”
Gojo couldn't finish, couldn't stand to tell you he was a virgin.
“Been on camera before?” You asked, innocently tilting your head, coming to the wrong conclusion. “It's okay, if you don't want-”
“I've never wanted anything as much as I want this,” he bluntly interrupted. “You.”
“Oh,” you half-whispered, hiding a smile by looking down before you gestured to your streaming setup. “Guess we should get started then?”
He watched practically in awe at how you turned it on the second the stream was running, chirping as you greeted everyone in chat, taking a minute or two to make sure most of your audience was there before waving him over and introducing him as the winner.
That's what he was, right? He had done it. Made it here. About to lose it all to you – in the same bed he'd been dreaming about doing it for so goddamn long.
Your hands slid up his arm, squeezing his bicep as you pulled him close.
“Our special guest has never been on camera before, so you guys better be nice,” you warned, pouting in frame as you leaned your head against him. “It's his show tonight.”
Whatever he wanted went.
You looked up at him before you switched over to the bed, guiding him there. A tripod was set up, ready to capture every dirty detail and broadcast them. Two fingers poked his chest, getting him to sit on the edge, before you giggled and pushed him back further.
And suddenly you were straddling him, your soft thighs on top of him, your weight shifting and readjusting as you wrapped your wrists around his neck, playing with his soft undercut.
He was fucking terrified to touch you. Scared that it would shatter the moment and he’d realize this was just an illusion, another dream he’d wake up from.
But then you sighed, going to grab one of his hands, guiding it towards your waist, wrinkling that pretty slip of yours as you tilted your head so sweetly. Blinking at him with disbelief that mirrored his own, before you were whispering under your breath, “Hold me.”
“Bu-” He didn’t get more than a single syllable out.
“I want you to,” you murmured, pushing your bottom lip out in another pout.
His heart swelled, and before he could stop himself, he was leaning up to kiss you. Lips crashing together in an admittedly clumsy connection, too aware of the camera currently focused on both of you to direct all of his own focus solely on you. But then your tongue was suddenly in his mouth, tracing over his teeth, and he was pretty sure his mind melted.
All his other kisses were drunk ones at parties Suguru and Shoko dragged him to, sloppy and messy, but this was different. You were different.
It felt fucking magical. The softness of your lips, the taste of mint on your mouth, like you had brushed your teeth before he came over. Sucking on his lower lip, a warm buzz spreading inside his chest at how right this was. One of his hands caressed your cheek, his thumb dragging over your soft skin while his other fingers sank deeper into your waist.
Trying to pull you closer, forgetting about how this was being filmed in favor of kissing you harder.
Gojo didn't want it to end.
He could feel his cock starting to grow, throbbing and aching already underneath the heat of your body, the weight of you on top of him.
God, he was glad he started lifting fucking weights over the last year – because it was easy to lift you up.
He flipped the positions, hearing all the air get knocked out of you when your back hit the bed. Hair splayed out underneath you, lips parted in surprise as you looked up at him.
“What are you going to do to me?” You asked, not scared or nervous, teasing him as you propped yourself up on your elbows, like you wanted another kiss.
Gojo couldn't help but oblige, leaning down to press his mouth to yours again while your words repeated in his ears.
How many nights had he spent asking himself that question? Debating over what he’d do if he ever found himself here?
Take out that custom dildo and take you both ways? Press your thighs to your chest in some mean mating press? Do it doggy style?
“Come on, baby,” you purred, sifting your fingers through his hair as you peppered his face with more kisses. “Tell me what you want.”
All he could think of right now was how much he was dying to taste you.
“I wanna eat you out,” he confessed, coming out hoarser than he intended, his voice just as raw as his heart felt, throat constricting at the idea of you on his tongue.
He pushed you higher up on the bed so he wouldn't have to be on his knees on the ground, spreading your thighs apart with those huge hands of his. Forcing himself to take it slow, palms traveling over your skin in time with his lips. Kiss after kiss, admiring each pretty inch of you before he was face-to-face with the thin lace thong hardly keeping anything covered.
Gojo ripped it off like it was nothing, dropping the little fabric to the floor while you let out a small surprised gasp.
He bought it – so why couldn't he break it too?
The camera hadn't captured precisely how pretty your pussy was in person. Already wet for him, glistening and goading him into doing something about it.
“You're soaked,” he commented, swallowing the spit pooling in the back of his mouth as his eyes drifted up to you.
You made a noise, almost like a whine, shifting your hips and arching them up as you pushed your bottom lip out. “Yeah?”
Gojo wasn't always great with social clues, but he saw it for what it was. An invitation.
One he was more than happy to accept.
Diving in to deliver messy kisses, mouth open as his tongue dragged inside of you – copying the same methods he’d spent the past six months studying in porn scenes, desperate to make you cry out his name.
Until you forgot about the cameras too, so lost in his tongue and his hands that you couldn't remember your own name. Or that he was simply a loser with too much money to spend.
Because if he was just some guy you met on the street, would you ever really let him do this?
Let him wrap his mouth around your cute clit, sucking on it and swirling his tongue over it, painting his own name with his tongue while you twitched? Let him slot two thick fingers inside your dripping cunt, scissoring you open with steady strokes?
He counted them out, tested out what spots you seemed to like the most and made a mental note of them for later. Even if Gojo was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to think of anything once his cock was actually inside of you.
He was already painfully hard, dick throbbing and pulsing for relief as he rutted into your mattress mindlessly. It creaked under your combined weight, but your own moans were louder. Pitchy and airy, filling the room as you tugged harder on his roots. Keeping him close, refusing to let him stray from the task.
He groaned into your sensitive bundle of nerves as your nails raked over his scalp, the vibrations making you whine right there with him. His fingers crooked, curling just enough to have your back arching up, hips trying to work them in even deeper as you chased your climax.
Your thighs closed around his head, holding him hostage there, but honestly? He didn’t mind.
Gojo would live here if he could. Breathe you in and sustain himself with this alone.
He dragged his tongue back over your clit, and you made a sound that almost made him cum. Maybe that was just a habit though, years of training himself to finish when you did, the noise immediately registering as your resolve crumbling and giving into the urge to cum just from his mouth and a couple fingers.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, y-you-”
You sounded desperate, and Gojo decided he'd never heard anything hotter than that. The cute little stuttering, the raw mantra while his tongue tugged you closer to overstimulation, still working on that pretty bud until you pried him back with another pull of his hair.
“You said whatever I want,” he reminded you with a pout that matched yours.
After a stunned pause, you relented though, eyes wavering and wide as you reluctantly started laying back down, but Gojo just chuckled, climbing back on top of you fully, tempted to tear your dress off too so he could feel your skin.
Kissing your mouth again, knowing you could taste yourself on his tongue when he slowly slipped it between your open lips.
Gojo could barely bring himself to part from you, his warm breath on your skin, his nose nudging against yours.
“What do you want to do with me?” He returned the question, holding out the reins for you to take.
Because more than anything, he wanted to make you happy.
You giggled, grinning up at him as your fingers traced over his side, slipping underneath his shirt.
“Take your clothes off,” you instructed.
He listened better than any dog did. Standing up to strip quickly, proudly showing off the muscles he only bothered growing for you, wondering if the lamps in your room lit them well for the cameras.
Your eyes raked over him with appreciation that made his pride flare even more, his fingers fumbling to unzip his jeans and drop them to the floor. You were sitting up now, still breathing a little hard from cumming before. Eyes going wide the second you saw his bulge in his boxers, the damp spot against the thin white fabric from where pre-cum was already leaking.
“Fuck, you’re-” You didn't let yourself finish, voice dying out as his boxers hit the floor next.
Big? Huge? Pretty?
He hoped it was one of the above. Gojo had probably spent too long online browsing the average size of penises, but he was pretty sure his should exceed expectations.
It wasn't as thick as some he'd seen in porn, but it was long, at least. Besides, he'd seen you satisfy himself with the fake one he sent you enough times so shouldn't the real one be even better?
“Like it?” He asked, hope plaguing his tone. Really trying to ask if you liked him.
“Mhm,” you nodded, soft and low as you skimmed your hands over his thick thighs. “Get on your back.”
You wanted to trade spots again.
He was trying to focus, to stop himself from saying or doing anything stupid or giving away just how inexperienced he was when he laid flat on your bed. Pre-cum smeared over his pink tip, throbbing at the open air, glancing over at the camera, seeing the chat flying by on the screen behind you before you were positioning yourself just over his cock.
You didn't look.
Your eyes were only on him. As if the rest of the world didn't exist. Didn't matter anymore.
His hands were shaking a little as he reached for your slip, and you helped him pull it off over your head. Breasts bouncing, your body so much fucking better when he actually got to experience it, to feel your skin under his palms as he ran them over your waist.
There wasn't nearly enough time for him to feel all of you. Torn between making frantic attempts at cataloging you and making the most of the moment while he had it, but you seemed to sense what was brewing inside of him.
Knew how to shut up the voices inside his head.
Your hips sank down, one of your hands resting on his chest to steady yourself before you started taking him in. His tip catching at your entrance at first, but then you readjusted again, wet enough that you didn't need lube for him to nudge inside and-
He shattered.
Sanity splitting into a million tiny little pieces the second he felt your warmth wrapping around him, the tight rubber band of desire inside him threatening to not just snap, but dissolve into straight bliss as you took him in a single rough thrust. Going from nothing to everything all at once, your walls sucking him in.
Nothing could compare to you.
All those times he fucked his fist suddenly seemed futile. Just a pale mockery of what the real thing was like, groaning loudly and throwing his head back as his fingers dug into your hip. He tried to mind his strength, stop himself from bruising you, but he could barely control the guttural sounds coming from the back of his throat.
“Isn’t he cute?” You asked, and his eyes were scrunched too tight to see what face he was making, even if he was sure you were finally acknowledging the rest of your audience. He rolled his hips up, feeling his tip nudge and grind against what he guessed was your cervix, that sweet little spongy spot that had you gasping. He finally cracked his eyes open, thick lashes fluttering at the sight of your gorgeous body grinding down on him. Your nails ran over his chest, tapping over his heart. “My pretty boy.”
If tonight was about him, then maybe you wouldn’t mind him asking you to call him that again.
“Promise?” He asked, his voice wavering and thick as his brain continued to short-circuit.
“Pinky swear,” you smiled, a cute crinkle next to where your makeup was beginning to run. Your usual waterproof mascara had been traded in for something that smeared, like you wanted him to see what a mess he made you.
Gojo grinded up, getting a little more comfortable, holding onto you like you were his last tether to reality, even if it still seemed fake. At his fingers dimpling your flesh, you whined, pushing down until he was completely buried inside you, the muscles in your thighs probably aching from how spread they were.
His cock practically jumped inside you.
Warm pleasure swirling inside him, fraying the rope of rationality he couldn’t believe he was still clinging to. And just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, couldn’t hold out, you started to bounce.
Sliding up-and-down on his thick shaft, letting his ridges and veins drag along your insides, slow at first, but steadily speeding up while he started desperately crying out your name. Not on purpose, just babbling, his thoughts all foggy and dazed as he gripped your waist and tried to help you.
Lifting you up and bringing you back down, muscles working to copy the moves he thought he’d be better at, wishing he’d worn a condom so it wasn’t so hard to not snap.
Gojo refused to cum. Scrunched his eyes shut as he buried his face in your skin, brain flashing any unappealing images he could conjure up and desperately failing to hold himself back.
“F-fuck, you’re so-” He groaned, and you were huffing, leaning forward, pressing your chest against his, skin on skin, your breath on the inside of his neck as your lips left a light kiss on his collarbone. The new angle somehow forced his cock in even deeper, your walls clamping down.
“I’m so what?” You teased, sucking softly, like you were trying to leave a hickey. To mark him as yours. Trailing kisses up to the hard line of his jaw, murmuring softly where he’d be the only one to hear. “Look at me, Toru.”
Gojo looked, and he came.
Thick ropes of cum filling you up, a raw sound ripped from him as he thrusted up uselessly inside of you. Your eyes were gleaming, practically fucking glittering with his reflection in them, lips parted and glossy, your hands on his body and your heat on him, all the simmering sensations driving him fucking crazy as he stopped fighting the impulses burning him up inside.
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he started rambling, rattling off every word he could think of that fit you as you continued to ride him raw. “Gorgeous, p-pretty, cute, sweet, i-irrestible-”
“S-says you,” you stammered back, face flushing as your own focus slipped.
His fingers slipped between your connected bodies, finding your swollen clit, still sensitive from your first climax, almost distressed as he attempted to get you to cum at the same time as him. Wanting you to feel as good as he felt.
Rubbing circles over it now, putting as much pressure as he could, feeling you respond to him with more broken breathing.
“C’mon,” he grunted, his other hand sliding around to wrap around your back, holding you tight and close, locking you into this position. “Cum for me, please.”
Was begging unattractive? Pleading for you to join him in this intimacy?
Either way, you started trembling, thighs shaking hard as you made some sharp little squeak, whimpering in response as you nodded.
Catching his lips in another kiss, moaning into his mouth like it would do anything to muffle the sound. He swallowed it anyway. Devoured each noise as his own cum continued to leak out inside you, his cock still hard as it nudged against your cervix again. Dampness dripping down your thighs and onto him, probably some getting on your sheets too.
“That’s it, fuck,” he murmured, assurance he didn’t know was meant for you or himself.
“You wanna keep going?” You half-whispered in his ear, lips grazing against his skin – but he shook his head. He liked overstimulation, could probably fuck you for hours, but he wanted to do it in privacy.
Where it was just you and him – where the audience wouldn’t get to see him crying into your skin.
“Turn it off,” he muttered back, and you nodded, leaving another kiss on his forehead before you slid off of him. His arms fell limp to his side, blue eyes hazy, the world blurred around the edges and tinged with leftover pleasure.
He was still trembling, shaking as his spent cock throbbed on his stomach, staring up at your beautiful figure as you shifted off of him.
“Didn’t he do a good job?” You hummed, addressing the chat, back to your casual persona. “Maybe I should keep him.”
It was a joke, something meant to make the mood light – but he wanted so fucking badly for you to keep him. He’d chain himself to your bed if you let him.
You were saying something else, talking about your next normal stream while you said goodbye – and he was reminded that after this, you would both go back to real life. Regularly scheduled programming.
Gojo still sort of felt like a virgin. Utterly inexperienced when he watched you switch off the camera, his stare flicking from the shape of your legs to the way your tits lightly bounced leaning over the computer screen. Scrolling through something on your computer before you glanced back at him, offering a smile that almost felt shy.
“So,” you said, but you didn’t finish your thought.
“That was-” He tried to finish it for you, but it hung out in the open, too many words to choose from that fit. Fantastic? Amazing? Unforgettable?
“Great, yeah,” you nodded, as if you were on the same page. Filling in the blank with one of your own. “Really great.”
“Uh-huh,” he breathed, for once in his life, lacking the ability to say what he wanted.
To tell you how much it meant to him.
“Did you get a hotel?” You asked, holding your own breath as you fiddled with your fingers.
“Um, no, I, uh, drove here,” he stammered out, palms sweating as he sat up in your bed. Only to accidentally dipped his fingers in his own cum stains, immediately lifting it up and looking around for something he could wipe it off with.
You giggled a little, light as you walked back over, getting down on your knees to lick the cum off. He almost came again just from the image alone, cock twitching between his sticky thighs.
The feel of your tongue dragging over his knuckles, sucking until they were clean and the lewd pop! when you pulled them out.
“Do you want to stay the night?”
“Yes,” he quickly answered again, cheeks heating up with embarrassment as he cringed at the neediness in his voice.
“We should probably, like, shower first,” you softened, smiling up at him. “But we could watch one of those movies you told me about?”
Nothing had ever sounded so fucking good.
But the morning after managed to be even better.
Waking up with you nestled in his arms was a feeling he suspected he’d spend the rest of his life chasing. The morning sun drifting in through your pretty lacy curtains. The quiet sound of your breathing. How cute your cheek looked squished on his bicep. The softness of your thigh when you had slotted in between his own.
He couldn’t even blame his morning wood on testosterone.
Gojo slowly snuck out from underneath you, making sure to fix the pillow underneath your head and tuck you back under the blanket before snagging his phone from his jeans on the floor. Padding silently over to your attached bathroom, trying his hardest to shut the door as quietly as possible before flicking on the light and the exhaust fan.
He had more missed messages than he could scroll through the group message between his best friends. It appeared they had somehow managed to figure out that his ‘vacation’ was really just a guise to be with you. Maybe they used his spare key to get in, found his printed out travel plans on the counter or saw any of the messages left up on the computer.
Suguru: Fucking answer asshole.
Shoko: he’s probably asleep
Shoko: or dead lol
Suguru: I might kill him if he isn’t.
Oops?
He sat down on the closed toilet seat, muscled thighs spread out as he ran his fingers through his hair. He hesitated, brows scrunching together as he tried to figure out what to say before settling on announcing his big news.
Although, maybe he should’ve said something other than: Guess who's not a virgin?
Gojo held his breath, nervously tapping his foot on the tiled floor while he waited for the … to pop back up once his message was immediately marked as read.
Suguru: Not funny.
Shoko: ?
Suguru: Where tf are you?
There was a light knock on the bathroom door outside, and Gojo half-jumped up, his still-hard cock springing up at the same time and smacking into his abs just as you called his name outside.
“Satoru?” You yawned, all soft and sweet. Need was pooling back in his stomach, hot and swirling despite him trying to cool it back down with the reminder you were probably just being nice. Only checking on him like a good host would.
“Um, yeah?” He answered, his hand hovering over the door knob as he hesitated to open it. Would you judge him for being hard already?
“Are you okay in there?” You asked, and he almost winced at the earnestness in it. You cared. Even if he was a dork and a loser who had never touched another woman before you. Even if he collected Digimon figures and was more comfortable playing dungeons and dragons than putting his dick in you. “Did I do something-”
“N-no,” he forced out, swinging the door open too fast, panicked by the hint of sadness in your voice, hitting his, uh, most sensitive area with it.
Gojo almost crumpled, a pained moan escaping as you slipped through the crack of the door to see what was wrong.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I didn’t-” You started rambling, reaching out like you were going to pat his penis.
“It’s okay,” he groaned, still wincing at the dull ache.
Your frown deepened as you noticed his phone in his hand, but he was already waving it like it would explain itself.
“My friends were worried for me,” he muttered.
“Oh,” you blinked. “Do they-”
“I’ve told them about you,” Gojo added, sighing as he ruffled his fingers through his messy hair. “Like, a lot.”
“Good things?” You asked, rolling your shoulders back like you were getting more comfortable around him.
“Just that I’m completely obsessed with you,” he chuckled, cringing again when it came out less like a joke and more like a truth.
That’s what it was, though, wasn’t it?
Your eyes were on him, your lips just slightly parted like you had something to say and just couldn't work out how to say it.
Gojo hesitantly met your stare, wondering if he was meant to say something, before you abruptly blurted out a question he never thought he'd hear from any woman.
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” You practically squeaked, more high-pitched than you intended, blinking fast and glancing away like you were skittish. The girl who was happy to show off every sensitive spot on camera suddenly shy around him.
“A date?”
Was it really your fault for falling for a guy like him?
You didn’t know when it started. Or well, that wasn’t exactly true. You did remember the first message he ever left for you. It was your third-ever stream, still uncomfortable around the camera as your fingers rubbed over your clit. He called you gorgeous.
He came back for the next stream. And the next.
Actually, he never really left.
Dropping compliments and donations like it was nothing to him, your number one supporter who would shout his approval from the rooftops. He made you smile, lips curling up the second you saw his name in chat – and eventually in your messages too.
From the first kiss, you knew you didn't want to kiss anyone else.
Wanted to spend every morning waking up with him, curled against his chest or sifting your fingers through his soft strands of hair.
You were greedy. You’d always known that.
But that was probably part of the reason it worked so well.
Gojo wanted to spoil you. To take care of you, whether it was tucking your hair behind your ear or buying you presents. Physical and emotional and material, fuck, even spiritually, he fulfilled every need or want – and somehow left you still craving more of him.
He was a little dorky. Giving you lingerie that he thought you liked just to sneak in a second bag with a digimon keychain, stuttering through an explanation that he had one too, that he thought it would be cute if you both had virtual pets together.
But you wouldn’t want him any other way.
It didn’t stop with just one date. Your weekends now spent with him in your bed or on your couch, hand-in-hand going out shopping or listening to him ramble about his latest hyperfixation. He asked you to be his girlfriend in the middle of a movie, his head in your lap while you combed through his pretty white hair, looking up at you like a cute puppy dog. Cuddling one of your plushies against his chest, a new one he you were pretty sure he only bought because you said it reminded you of him.
Satoru sighed into your skin now, fingers skimming over your arm as he pulled you closer into the street. Pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he murmured something about how starving he was.
You glanced up at him, still a little in awe that a guy as handsome as him was with you. And that he’d never actually been with another woman before either. He confessed he’d been a virgin before you took it after a couple weeks after sleepy sex, humming that he was your responsibility now.
One you happily accepted.
“Do you think your friends will like me?” You asked, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You were both supposed to meet them for brunch, assuage some of their fears that he was turning into a recluse.
“I know they will,” Satoru promised, kissing the top of your head now.
You paused in front of the restaurant, one he insisted you’d love, trying to work up the nerve to meet people that he’d told you so much about. The skeptic and the smoker, his closest friends – and ones you so badly wanted the approval of.
Your phone vibrated in your purse, pulling it out to see it was bank calling. Probably to check that the deposit you were trying to put down on a new studio to film at. Satoru had suggested it – and said that he wouldn’t mind starring in a few more videos after how many donations the one he did with you got.
“Shit,” you frowned at your phone. “Go ahead and order for me? This will just take a few minutes.”
You didn’t realize that his friends might have thought he totally lost it until you walked in and overheard the conversation going on.
“What’s next?” The guy sitting across from him sarcastically drawled. “Something will come up and she’ll have to leave before we see her?”
“No,” Satoru protested, but he wasn’t done.
“You can’t seriously expect us to believe that-”
You tapped on his shoulder before he could finish.
Dark hair almost hitting you as he swiveled back, jaw dropping the second he saw you standing there.
“Hi there,” you smiled, holding your hand out to introduce yourself while he squinted at you as if you were some shimmering apparition.
“You're real?”
“Did you think I wasn't?” You giggled, tilting your head to the side as Satoru stood up from the booth, hurrying over to slip an arm around your waist and guide you back to the seat next to him.
“What do you see in him?” The girl, Shoko, deadpanned, poking at the food on her plate and staring between the two of you like she was trying to solve a puzzle.
“He’s your friend, too,” you laughed, shrugging your shoulders and leaning against your boyfriend. “I think Satoru’s sweet. And funny-”
“You think he’s funny?” Geto echoed, like you just said something simply absurd.
Satoru just grinned, squeezing you tight as his brilliant blue eyes flickered between you and his friends.
⋮ 𓏲ּ𝄢 ┆when a villain’s quirk forces katsuki bakugo to spend twenty-four uninterrupted hours glued to your side, the two of you quickly realize that being unable to keep your hands off each other is only half the problem.
⧼ 🛍️ ⧽ ∿ pairings 。 ⸝⸝ katsuki bakugo x fem!reader 𓄲 genre ⨾ tropes 。 pro hero x pro hero, romance, friends to lovers, forced proximity, mature themes, explicit sexual scenes 𓏲 contains 。 ᵎᵎ nsfw, 18+ only mdni, language, mutual pining, smut, dirty talks, dry humping, fingering, unprotected piv sex, spooning, cowgirl, choking, slight degradation, pet names (baby, brat, slut) ꩜ ⋆.˚ word count 。 6.0k ꔛ
꒰ star speaks ꒱ ✮ this fic is based on this blurb ᵎᵎ i posted months ago which has been long overdo. . . oopsie 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯
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you woke up expecting your first mission of the day to end professionally with a quiet victory. your routine usually flowed with a seamless rhythm because you had spent years honing your quirks and your instincts. you took a certain pride in the fact that your missions tended to end successfully and remained relatively calm, at least from your perspective.
you did not consider yourself cocky, but there was a comforting predictability to the way you handled villains. you could usually predict a criminal's next move before they even thought of it, leaving you to wrap things up with a clean arrest and a polite nod to the authorities.
you imagined today would be no different, just another entry in your record of efficiency.
but boy were you wrong.
your day started that morning at tokyo’s largest shopping district. the air felt crisp and the streets were filled with the usual hum of commuters and tourists.
you were paired with katsuki for a team up mission targeting a group of high profile robbers. these villains had a penchant for the finer things, having spent the last few months raiding museums for historical paintings and priceless jewelry.
the objective was simple. apprehend the group, secure the stolen assets, and ensure no civilians were harmed.
for the first hour, the mission played out exactly as you had envisioned. you and katsuki moved like a well oiled machine, your quirk complementing his explosive one. you managed to corner the group in a side gallery, neutralizing the muscle while katsuki blasted the leaders into submission. the civilians were ushered to safety and the jewels were recovered in record time.
“took you long enough to wrap that one up, you slow ass,” katsuki barked, though there was no real heat in it.
"i had it under control, katsuki, you just wanted to blow things up," you replied, glancing back at him with a smirk.
the calm shattered during the final moments of the arrest.
one of the villains, a scrawny man with a desperate look in his eyes, lunged forward as you were securing a pair of handcuffs. he didn't aim for the jewels or the exit. he aimed for you.
katsuki saw the movement a split second before you did. he didn't hesitate, shoving you hard to the side and taking the hit directly to his chest. there was no explosion or flash of light, just a strange, shimmering ripple in the air that seemed to snap onto him.
you both stood there for a moment in total silence, blinking in confusion.
katsuki looked down at his chest, then back at the villain, his face twisting into a scowl. “what the fuck was that?!” he didn't feel anything unusual, and you assumed the attack had failed.
but as katsuki reached out to grab your arm to pull you away from the scene, the world seemed to tilt. the moment his fingers brushed your skin, there was a violent, audible clack, like two industrial magnets slamming together.
you were suddenly jerked backward, your back slamming into his chest with such force that the air left your lungs in a sharp wheeze.
“what the hell?! get off me!” katsuki roared, his voice echoing off the museum walls.
“you get off me!” you retorted as you tried to push away, planting your feet and leaning forward with all your strength.
“i am not staying stuck to you all day,” he snarled, his palms sparking. “i will blast this quirk right off of me!”
“don't you dare blast us into a wall,” you warned, though you were already feeling the dizzying proximity of him.
you managed to create a gap of maybe three inches before an invisible force yanked you back. you flew backward again, hitting him with a dull thud that made you groan.
that’s how you ended up here, talking to the authorities, finishing the mission by sharing all the intel you have gathered. you could physically feel the headache coming as you scolded yourself for your wishful thinking that today would be a good day because you were so wrong.
the very angry and very agitated katsuki bakugo who was literally stuck to you was living proof of that.
“that fucking bastard! get us out of this, you pathetic excuse of a villain!” he yelled at the villain who was cuffed being escorted away.
“katsuki, stop moving! you’ve already tried pulling away once and it didn’t work. what makes you think trying over and over again would be any different?” you snapped, though your voice was strained from the impact of his chest on your back from the constant forceful pulling.
“i am not moving, you damn brat!” he was screaming even louder now, his face inches from your ear. “i shouldn’t have agreed to do this low tiered mission.”
“you’re a hero! we did our job, get over yourself.” you knocked your head back to his, hitting him square in the forehead making him groan.
“fuck you.” katsuki growled at you from behind, biting onto a section of your hair from the back before tugging.
you rolled your eyes in anger before stomping on his foot. “stop acting like a child.”
“hit me again and i’ll throw the both of us into traffic.” katsuki threatened you.
you rolled your eyes as you turned your head back to look at the police officers who were still processing the scene. you tried to maintain your professional composure while katsuki was essentially glued to your spine.
he was leaning back with all his might, trying to keep his chest from pressing against your back, but it was a losing battle. every time he drifted a few inches away, the magnetic pull would snap him back into you with a forceful slam that pushed you forward, nearly making you trip over your own boots.
“for the love of god, i am just trying to finish the report,” you told the katsuki before turning back to the detective, ignoring the way katsuki was vibrating with rage behind you. “please ignore him and his temper tantrum.”
“shut your mouth!” katsuki yelled, his hands gripping your waist tightly, not to keep himself from slipping but because he physically can’t let go. “i am not having a temper tantrum, you're just annoying! and you!” he turned his head to glare at the captured villain who was already in police van. “you piece of shit! i am going to blow your limbs off one by one! do you hear me! i will blast you into the next century for this!”
“katsuki, shut up!” you yelled back, snapping your patience. “can’t you see i’m talking to the authorities! just stay still for five fucking minutes!”
he spat a curse, his breath hot against your neck. “do you want to be stuck here like this the entire day?! if i hadn't taken that hit for you, we wouldn't be in this mess! you're lucky i'm even touching you, you brat!”
the detective cleared his throat, looking between the two of you with a mixture of pity and amusement.
“from what we can see so far, all five of the villains captured today aren’t japanese citizens. this means their quirks are completely unregistered in our database.” the detective eyed his phone before meeting your eyes once more. “i have already informed the lab about you and dynamight’s situation. they will be analyzing the specific properties of the magnetic quirk. once we get the villains to custody, i will personally question the villain who hit you with the quirk and get more information on it.”
“for now,” the detective continued, “i will inform the hero commission that both of you are off duty. no missions, no patrols, and certainly no work at your respective agencies. you are physically incapacitated as a pair. i suggest you both go home and discuss where you will be staying. hopefully, the quirk effects will wear off on their own within twenty-four hours.”
“thank you, detective,” you said, giving a tired smile. “we appreciate the help.”
katsuki didn't thank anyone. he just growled, a low, dangerous sound in his throat, and glared at the detective as if the man had personally glued them together.
the ride back to katsuki's agency was a chaotic affair. once you arrived, you were greeted by mina and kirishima, who had been briefed on the situation. mina nearly collapsed in fits of laughter the moment she saw you two stuck together.
“oh my god!” mina squealed, pointing at you. “you guys are literally like a human sandwich! this is the most romantic thing i have ever seen in my entire professional career!”
“it is not romantic, you idiot!” katsuki screamed, his face turning a deep shade of crimson. “get over here and help us get these damn costumes off before i explode this entire building!”
the process of changing into regular clothes was a nightmare of coordination and physical strain. because you couldn't be separated by more than a few inches, you had to change in separate rooms with people literally holding you back.
mina and two of katsuki's assistants gripped your arms and waist, anchoring you to a heavy bolted table in one room, while kirishima and another sidekick did the same for katsuki in the adjacent room.
it was a grueling exercise in willpower. every time you tried to slide a shirt over your head, the magnetic pull would tug at you, threatening to launch you through the concrete wall and right back into katsuki's chest.
you were sweating, your teeth gritted as you gripped the edges of the table, your knuckles white. i can't believe this is my life right now, you thought, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your temple. i expected a calm day, and now i'm being held back like a wild animal just so i can put on a t shirt.
rom the other side of the wall, you could hear kirishima grunting, his voice strained as he fought to keep katsuki in place.
“bakugo, man, listen,” kirishima gasped, sounding completely out of breath. “i think you should just go pee or do your business in the bathroom while we're still here. i don't think you'll be able to do that once you two are back home and stuck together. there won't be anyone to pry you off each other.”
“i will kill you!” katsuki's voice boomed, followed by the sound of a small explosion. “stop talking about my bladder, shitty hair! i can handle myself!”
“it sounds stupid, but kiri is right,” mina said to you, her voice shaking from the effort of holding you still. “you might want to consider it.”
you paused, the reality of the situation sinking in. you looked at the wall separating you from the most stubborn man in japan and sighed. “fine,” you called out. “take me to the bathroom.”
after another thirty minutes of torturous maneuvering, kirishima and mina drove the two of you to katsuki's penthouse.
the car ride was an exercise in sensory overload.
katsuki had claimed the back seat, spreading himself out with his back against the door. because of the magnetic pull, you were forced to sit with your back against his front, tucked between his legs.
you tried your best to focus on the scenery passing by the window, but it was impossible to ignore the loud, frantic thumping in your chest. your face felt hot, a deep blush creeping up your neck.
you could feel every inch of him. his chest was hard and defined, digging into your shoulder blades, and his hands were firmly glued to your waist. the heat radiating from him was intense, a constant, pulsing warmth that seemed to seep through your clothes and melt your resolve.
why is he so warm? you wondered, biting your lip. and why does he always smell this intoxicating.
kirishima and mina were kind enough to make sure the two of you were settled, ordering a massive amount of food and eating with you both in the penthouse before they had to leave for their own duties. they left you two alone in the silence of the luxury apartment, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.
the rest of the afternoon was spent in his bedroom, which had become a battleground for the remote control. you wanted to watch something light, something that would distract you from the fact that you were physically fused to your long time crush, but katsuki wanted to watch literally anything else.
“we are watching a rom com, katsuki,” you insisted, leaning back into him as you both sat on the bed. “come on, it will be fun. plus it'll calm you down.”
“i am not watching some garbage movie about people crying over flowers!” katsuki yelled, though his voice lacked its usual bite. “put on an action movie! something with explosions!”
“do you even need any more explosions when you are a already human bomb?” you countered, a playful smirk on your lips. “oooh! how about we watch mean girls? it's a classic.”
“i don't care if it's a damn classic! it's stupid!” he groaned, but he didn't fight you as hard as he usually would once you pressed play. he seemed exhausted by the day's events.
you wore him down with a combination of stubbornness and a few well placed pouts. eventually, he caved with a loud, dramatic sigh that sounded like he was conceding a war.
“fine! watch your stupid mean girls movie! just stop talking during it!”
you ended up lying on his bed with him (duh), the movie playing on a large screen in front of you. because of the way you were stuck, he was positioned behind you, his arms forced to wrap around your waist in a permanent spooning position. his chest was pressed firmly against your back. you could feel the steady, heavy beat of his heart matching your own.
“this is so stupid,” katsuki muttered, his voice low and husky right against your ear. “why are people so obsessed with who sits where at lunch? it's a school cafeteria. eat your fucking food and go.”
you chuckled, the sound vibrating through both of your bodies. “i don't know, katsuki, you tell me. i think you could definitely pass as a mean girl. you've got the attitude and the temper for it.”
he stiffened, his grip on your waist tightening. “what did you just say to me? i will blast you into orbit!”
you just laughed, feeling a surge of boldness. “admit it, you'd totally be the leader of the plastics. you'd just scream at everyone until they did what you wanted… which you already do. and you’re blond as well. it’s perfect casting!”
katsuki didn't yell back this time. instead, he let out a huff of air that felt like a kiss against your skin.
you weren't normally this chatty, but the proximity was making you reckless. you were desperately trying to distract yourself from the heat of his body. for hours, you had been glued together, and the friction was starting to create a feverish warmth between you. you could feel the slight dampness of his sweat against your back, the nitroglycerin scented moisture making your skin tingle.
i can't believe he hasn't blown us up yet, you thought, your heart racing.
you had carried a torch for katsuki since your second year at u.a. high. it had started as admiration for his drive and evolved into a deep, aching attraction that you had kept hidden behind jokes and professional courtesy. now, with your agencies located close to each other and your friendship deepening, the feelings had become an obsession.
you shifted your hips slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position to ease the strain of being fused to him. as you settled further back, pushing your backside against him, you felt something hard and unmistakable pressing against the curve of your butt. you froze, your breath hitching in your throat. it was his cock, already thickening through the fabric of his sleep pants.
you felt his breath hitch. the fingers that had been awkwardly and tensely gripping your waist earlier were changing. he wasn't just holding on anymore. his fingertips began to move, subtly drawing slow, rhythmic shapes on your skin, tracing the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist. the touch was almost shy, which was completely unlike the man who had spent the morning screaming at police officers.
you moved a little bit more, trying to settle in further into the bed.
katsuki let out a long, shaky breath that fanned across the nape of your neck. you felt his fingers tighten on your waist, his grip almost bruising. “stop moving,” he growled, his voice a deep, guttural vibration that resonated through your entire spine.
you knew you should stop, but a spark of mischief flared in your chest.
you shifted again, a slow, deliberate grind of your hips that pressed you deeper into his hardness. you acted innocent, humming softly as if you were still just trying to get comfortable. “i'm just trying to get settled, kats, it's a bit cramped,” you whispered, though your voice held a teasing lilt.
he let out a sound that was halfway between a groan and a snarl. you could feel him growing harder, the length of him stretching against you, hot and demanding. the heat between your bodies was becoming unbearable, a fever that blurred the lines of friendship.
“you're doing that on fucking purpose,” he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. “you like playing with fire, huh? you damn brat.”
“i don't know what you're talking about,” you replied, tilting your head back to look at him, your eyes dancing with challenge.
katsuki's restraint snapped. he shifted his weight, pushing his body more firmly onto yours, pinning you to the mattress. he leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous, predatory whisper. “you think you're so clever, don't you? teasing me when you know i can't even pull away from you.”
“katsuki,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“you're just a little tease, begging for me to fucking lose it.” he muttered, his words laced with a slight edge of degradation that made your stomach flip.
“maybe i am,” you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribs.
“look at me,” he commanded, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. you could feel the heat of his skin, the roughness of his tongue as he grazed your collarbone. a low moan escaped your throat, and you felt him shudder against you.
you turned your neck, straining against the magnetic pull to face him. the moment your eyes met, he crashed his lips onto yours.
the kiss was explosive, tasting of desperation and years of suppressed longing. his tongue pushed into your mouth, tasting of cinnamon and heat, sucking on your tongue with a hunger that left you lightheaded. you moaned into the kiss, your hands reaching back to tangle in his spiky blonde hair, pulling him closer even though there was nowhere left to go.
the kiss deepened, becoming wetter and more frantic. you could hear the sound of your saliva exchanging, a wet, shlicking noise that only fueled the fire in your gut. he shifted his weight, pinning you further into the mattress, his thighs sliding between yours. the friction of his trousers against your own was driving you insane.
“i can't... i can't stand this,” katsuki gasped, breaking the kiss to bite your earlobe. i want you. i want all of you.
“oh—please…” you arched your back, pressing your rear into his crotch. you could feel the hard, thick length of his cock straining against his pants, a rigid pillar of heat that was pulsing against you. you whimpered, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
he began to move, his hips grinding rhythmically into your backside as he continued to kiss your neck and shoulders. every thrust was heavy, his hardness rubbing against you through the clothes. you arched your back, grinding back into him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps of pleasure.
“k-katsuki,” you pleaded, not sure what you were begging for, but you were.
“god, you feel so good,” he muttered against your skin, his voice rough. “i've wanted to do this for so long, you stupid, beautiful idiot.”
katsuki struggled against the magnetic effect that was very much a nuisance as it was a push, his muscles straining as he fought the pull to lift his hand. he grunted with the effort, his face contorted, but he managed to slide his hand down between your legs. his fingers brushed against the damp fabric of your underwear, finding the heat of your pussy.
“ha—! kats…” you squirmed at the sudden pressure.
“you're already wet,” he chuckled, a dark, triumphant sound. “look at you, soaking through your clothes for me.” he began to play with you, his fingers circling your clit through the cloth of your pants, sending jolts of electricity through your nerves.
you whined, your head tossing back against his shoulder. “katsuki, please,” you begged, your voice trembling.
he was impatient, the hunger in his eyes mirroring your own. he didn't want to waste another second with fabric between you. with a sudden, violent surge of strength, he gripped the waistband of your bottoms and tore them. the sound of fabric ripping filled the room, a sharp crack that made you gasp. he didn't stop there, his hands moving to your top, ripping the material away with a focused aggression, fighting the magnetic pull that tried to snap him back.
“be patient, damn it,” he growled like a hypocrite. he slid his hand down, his fingers diving into your wetness. you were already soaking, your juices coating his fingers as he slid them through your folds. he let out a low whistle, his voice thick with lust. “hah! not only are you a tease and impatient as fuck, you're also so fucking wet for me, aren't you?”
“yes, m’sorry… just please,” you breathed out, tilting your head back.
katsuki didn’t need to be told twice. he found your clit and began to rub it with a punishing intensity, his fingers sliding deep inside you. the sensation was overwhelming, the friction of his skin against your walls creating a wet, squelching sound that filled the silence.
“k-kats—hah…” you called out his name, your body squirming against his touch, your muscles clamping tight around his fingers.
“mmh?” he nipped lightly at your shoulder, his other hand moving up to cup your breast through your blouse, his thumb finding your nipple and rubbing it to a hard peak. “tell me this is wrong. tell me to stop.” his voice was a dark challenge.
you arched back into him instinctively, pushing your ass more firmly against his hardness. a low groan rumbled from his chest. “it doesn’t… f-feel wrong,” you managed, your own voice husky. “f-feels so good…”
katsuki was losing it as much as you were, he was just good at hiding it. he was breathing hard, his chest heaving. he gripped his own clothes, his muscles bulging as he fought the magnetic force one last time to rip his pants and underwear away. as soon as he was free, the magnet slammed his bare body back against yours with a heavy thud.
the feeling of his bare cock grinding against your bare behind was almost too much to bear. he was huge, hot, and leaking pre-cum that lubricated the space between you.
“sh-hiiiit…” you breathed, eyes rolling from the weight of his bare cock behind you.
“yeah?” he cut in ruthlessly, his hand squeezing your breast, his hips grinding again in a rhythm that was becoming unmistakable. “found the opportunity and started grinding your ass into me like this,” he rocked against you, the friction deliciously maddening. “you’re such a fucking tease. always been f’me, huh? you get everything little thing you want, don’t ya?”
“ngh, no m’not—” you moaned, your head falling back against his shoulder. “you’re the one… who’s being a tease. katsuki, please…”
“hm? what’s wrong?” he taunted softly, biting your earlobe. “please what, baby? tell me. what happened to your damn confidence now, huh?” his long fingers curled deeper inside you, the slick wet on his fingers.
“oh—mmh, yeah… just like that, k-kats,” you gasped, bucking against his touch.
“you hear yourself?” he fucked you harder with his finger before adding another, his thumb finding your and rubbing in tight circles. you cried out, your hand struggling against the magnet as it flew back to clutch at his thigh. “so fucking wet and loud—mmm’fuuuck.”
katsuki was grinding against you relentlessly now, his cock hard and demanding against your ass, his fingers working magic through your slit. the friction between you was building a frantic heat low in your belly. your breath came in ragged pants that matched his own.
“w-want it— shiiit. katsuki, please. i want you inside me. want you so bad,” you begged again, the thought of him fragmented by pleasure.
“god fucking dammit, you beg so pretty f’me,” he growled, his voice guttural with need. he pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. “been wanting this for so long.” he pulled his soaked fingers out of your pussy making you whine at the emptiness. he didn't need to be told twice. he positioned himself, the head of his cock probing the entrance of your heat. he pushed forward slowly. “fuuuuck… you feel good,” a low growl ripping from his throat as your tight walls gripped him.
you whined, the feeling of him filling you up stretching you to your limit. he was thick, far thicker than you had imagined, and the sensation of him sliding deep into your cervix made your toes curl. you arched violently, a loud moan tearing from your throat as pleasure spiked through you. “oh god! katsuki!”
katsuki began to move, his thrusts rhythmic and powerful. because of the magnetic bond, he couldn't pull away completely, which meant every thrust was deep, hitting your most sensitive spots with punishing accuracy. the sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, a rhythmic squelching noise as his cock slid in and out of your drenched pussy.
shlick, squelch, shlick.
“that’s it, baby,” katsuki purred against your skin, his fingers kept pressure on your clit, circling it around while his hips never stopped moving “take it. take what you’ve always wanted from me.”
“fuck yeah. yeah, right there…” you were full on begging and purring now as you moved your hips meeting his thrust, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. you could feel the sweat from his chest dripping onto your back, mixing with the fluids of your union. he was panting, his breath coming in short, jagged bursts against your ear.
“look at you—fuck. made for me”, he groaned, his voice breaking. i'm going to ruin you. he increased the pace, his movements becoming more overzealous. in his desperation to get deeper, his cock slipped out of you for a fraction of a second, only to slam back in with a wet thud that made you cry out. the sound of air being pushed out of your pussy created a loud, popping noise that only made him more aggressive.
“m’don’t think… gonna last looong—oh! yes, fuck! harder, katsuki!”
“come on then,” katsuki commanded, his voice rough with strain. he bit down on your shoulder blade. “cum for me. show me how good it feels when i finally touch you like this.” he curled his fingers harder, pressed his thumb down fiercely. “let go for me, you slut. let me feel you cum around me.”
he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving red marks that you knew you would cherish tomorrow. he was hammering into you now, his balls slapping rhythmically against your ass, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the air.
you felt your orgasm building, a tidal wave of heat that started in your toes and surged upward. “katsuki!” you screamed, your muscles clamping down on him in a series of violent contractions.
“fuck, i’m close,” he growled against your skin, his hips bucking up, driving his cock impossibly deeper where your bodies joined.
the feeling of your pussy pulsing around him was the final straw. “god fucking damn it! mgghfuuuck…” he let out a roar, his body stiffening as he shot his seed deep inside you. you could feel the hot, thick spurts of his cum hitting your cervix, filling you up until you felt like you were overflowing. he groaned, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his chest heaving as he slowly came down from the peak.
katsuki breathed heavily, his heart racing. he suddenly gripped your waist. “turn around,” he commanded. “face me.”
“i can't, kats, the magnet,” you panted from your orgasm, trying to shift.
“fight it,” he growled, his voice regaining its dominant edge. “i want to see your face when i fuck you again. fight the damn thing.”
that was all the motivation you needed. you both gritted your teeth, straining against the invisible force. you pushed away from him, your muscles screaming, and with his help, you managed to swivel. for a second, you were almost face to face, before the magnet snapped you both back together with a loud groan, your bodies slamming into each other.
he didn't let you settle. he strained his muscle against the pull and manhandled you, flipping you over so you were on properly top of him. he gripped your hips, pulling you down as he entered you again.
you looked down at him, your eyes locking with his vermillion ones, the intimacy of the gaze making the pleasure of him inside you feel ten times more intense. “katsuki, baby.”
“that's it,” he whispered, his hands digging into your ass. “take it all.”
you tried your best to ride him, your breasts bouncing, your breath coming in ragged whines. he reached up, pulling you down, your lips meeting his. it was messy, your tongues dancing in a feverish rhythm, the taste of salt and desire filling your mouths. eventually, you collapsed onto his chest unable to fight the pull of the magnet, your face tucked into the crook of his neck. he took over, doing all the work, lifting his hips to drive deep into you.
“ngghh—oh, fuck,” you whined, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, your skin slick with sweat. “please, katsuki, harder,” you begged.
“shut up and take what i give you, brat,” katsuki replied, though his voice was thick with affection. he began to fuck you with a renewed aggression, the sounds of your bodies interacting becoming more visceral.
the squelching of your joined heat and the heavy thud of his chest against yours created a symphony of lust. he gripped the back of you neck, lightly squeezing, the sensation that only pushed you further over the edge, making you clench tighter around him.
“m’gonna cum again… baby, pleeeease—oh, make me cum,” you choked out a moan, your body tightening as you felt another orgasm building.
“fucking hell, baby, ya gonna milk me dry, huh?” he snarled, bucking his hips up, his hands clamping onto your ass. “yeah? just like that. scream like that. let everyone in the building hear you scream through the fucking walls.”
you moaned loudly, your body still trembling from your orgasm as he began to move inside you again. “agh! f-fuck—kats… m’cuming” you threw your head back.
“cum with me,” he commanded. “fuck, do it now.”
you screamed as you peaked, your internal muscles squeezing him tightly. katsuki let out a guttural roar, his body stiffening as he came deep inside you, his release filling you again with warmth.
the room fell silent, the only sound being your labored breathing. you stayed in that position for a long time, the sweat cooling on your skin. for a long time, neither of you spoke. you were both covered in a mixture of sweat and fluids, the scent of sex and nitroglycerin filling the room.
“does mean you actually like me? or do you just let anyone fuck you?” you broke the silence, your voice clearly teasing and mischievous to get under his skin.
katsuki scoffed, though he didn't move his arm from around you (not that he can). “tch. whatever the hell that means. i don’t even like when other people breathe close to me. what else would this nonsense mean?”
“is that your way of being romantic? because calling what we just did just now ‘nonsense’ is a bit low… even from you,” you teased.
“shut up,” he muttered, his ears turning a bright shade of red. “… listen, tomorrow… or whenever the fuck. after this damn quirk wears off. you're going out to dinner with me.”
“wait, as in a date?” you snapped your head up from his neck to look at him only for the stupid magnet to slam you back down his chest with a thud.
“stop fucking moving—and it's not a big deal,” katsuki snapped, holding you tighter almost subconsciously. “i just don't want you starving to death because you're too clumsy to feed yourself. just say yes, damn it.”
you giggled, kissing his chest. “yes, katsuki. i'd love to go on a date with you.”
“stop pushing it!”
after a couple more yells from katsuki, you both fell asleep in each other's arms, the magnetic effects of the villains quirk finally feeling like something you wanted to keep.
the next morning, the shrill ring of a phone shattered the silence.
katsuki groaned, his eyes fluttering open. you stirred on his chest, your face nuzzling into his neck, half-asleep and warm. he reached out with one hand to pick up the phone, his other arm cradling the back of your head. as he moved, he paused.
he felt his hand slide away from you without any resistance. there was no pull, no snap, no invisible force. he moved his arm further, realizing that the magnetic effect had worn out.
“what?!” he barked into the phone.
it was the detective from the previous day. the man's voice was professional but held a hint of amusement.
he informed katsuki that they had finally identified the specific nature of the villain's quirk.
“upon further investigations and quirk research through quick blood samples, we received word back from the lab. the villain confirmed it himself not long after. his quirk allows him to make someone he hits with the magnet physically stuck to the person they desire the most. after the questioning, we were told that the effects should wear off after a day, so the two of you should be good by now.”
katsuki froze, the phone still pressed to his ear. physically stuck to the person they desire the most.
you, who had been now awake and listening, began to snicker against his skin. you looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “you know, katsuki, you didn't really have to take the hit for me after all.” you whispered, “if the quirk works that way, we would have ended up stuck together regardless of who got hit.”
katsuki stared at the ceiling, his face flushing a deep crimson. he slowly hung up the phone and pulled you closer, his grip firm. “whatever,” he muttered, though he couldn't hide the small, satisfied smile on his lips. “just shut up and go back to sleep, brat.”
♡ ⸝⸝ frat!gojo wants you to be his again ! ❤︎₊ ⊹ ft fetty wap on a jbl speaker
it was late. after studying, you had crawled into bed thirty minutes ago in hopes to catch some sleep. your final exam for bio was tomorrow and your anxiety was eating away at your stomach. the past half hour of tossing and turning was starting to get to you. you needed to get some sleep, and fast. you exhaled as a wave of drowsiness hit you. your eyes fluttered shut. finally, you thought. you snuggled in your blankets and began to drift off.
your window of sleep lasted all but five minutes. you woke up startled as you heard loud music blasting. the vibrations somehow made it through the walls. you rubbed your eyes and looked around in confusion. your roommate wasn’t in her bed, she was probably at her boyfriend’s. that’s when you realized the source of loud music was coming from outside your window.
crawling out of bed, you decided to investigate. you pulled back the curtains and looked down. to your demise, you saw your ex boyfriend, satoru gojo, standing outside your window holding up a JBL speaker. “again” by fetty wap blared from the large speaker.
“i want you to be mine again, bae-be!” satoru screeched, completely off tune. you winced and groaned softly, the sharp sound ringing in your ears. he cannot be serious. it was 2am and finals week, someone was bound to curse him out for causing a commotion this late.
“i know my lifestyle is driving you cray-zay…but i cannot see myself without you,” he continued. you were too tired to scream or shout, but you had to shut him up somehow. you opted for throwing his hoodie at him. you launched it at him with as much force as you could muster in your current state. it hit his chest, distracting him and making him lose his place in the song. he mumbled the lyrics before catching up.
“i go out of my way to please you, i go out of my way to see you!” he shouted. god, he didn’t know when to quit. that was the last of his things you had, you didn’t know what else to throw. scanning your room, you came up empty. guess you were going to have to be the one to cuss him out.
“shut up the fuck up! gosh!” you shouted at him. you still felt groggy, but you had to get him out of here.
he ignored your request and started to dance along. you rolled your eyes at his goofy little two step. he looked absolutely ridiculous, but didn’t seem to care at all.
“and i want you to be mine again, bae-by, i know my lifestyle is drivi—ow!” the dumbass yelped as he accidentally dropped the 30 pound speak on his head.
you snorted as he rubbed his head and fought back tears. a genuine laugh bubbled out of you at the sight. he glanced up at you once more and the idiot smiled.
“oh how i’ve missed hearing that sweet sound.” he beamed at you. a red bump was starting to form on his head where you assumed the speaker had hit him. what a lunatic.
you immediately frowned. “stop being corny and go home!” you whisper shouted. the music had finally stopped—satoru’s thick skull must have broken the speaker—so you were trying to be mindful of your volume.
“huh?? i can’t hear you speak up.” he put his hand to his ear and looked at you expectantly. you rolled your eyes and whisper shouted again, slightly louder this time.
“go. home.”
it was his turn to frown. “what? no! i’m not leaving until you take me back. i promise, i won’t distract you from your studies anymore.”
you scoffed. “a boyfriend is a distraction by default, satoru. don’t be dense. go home, aren’t you tired?”
“tired of living without you, yeah,” he replied swiftly.
you scoffed. he was corny, yes, but the gesture was sweet. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. he didn’t necessarily do anything wrong either, he had been your sweet little himbo of a boyfriend, always there for you when you needed him.
maybe it was the fact you were exhausted. maybe it was the rose colored glasses that you definitely had on because of his rom com esque gesture. maybe it was just what’s been hiding in your heart. whatever it was, you gestured for him to come up.
his cerulean eyes widened and he grinned from ear to ear. “really?!?”
“don’t make me regret it,” you grumped.
he scurried off the lawn, and headed up, leaving his speaker behind. when he got your door, he practically suffocated you with a bear hug. you hugged him back, relishing in his warmth.
“i missed you. i love you.” he whispered into your hair. you couldn’t help but smile at his confession.
“i missed you too ‘toru.” he kissed your cheek and moved to reach your lips, but you stopped him.
holding up your finger to his lips, you glared at him.
