I would like to Request a fic where Hinata fell in love with a younger Kuinoichi and gets obsessed with her. All of Hinatas submissive tendencies disappear when she is with the young woman and all she wants is to dominate her.
tw: dub/noncon, fingering, nipple sucking, cheating, age difference, MDLG elements, praise, power imbalance, mommy kink, manipulation
All characters depicted are 18+
Hinata is a very content woman, she's married to the love of her life and has two beautiful children whom she adores, but being the Hokage's wife can be hard at times, while she is respected as both the Hyuga heiress and first lady of Konoha, she can get rather lonely when Naruto is away from home for so long. But at least she has her children, and their rather interesting friends.
Boruto has been in the house less and less since becoming an adult, but he still comes by occasionally to see his mother and sister, he'll even sometimes bring a friend or two along for his family to get acquainted with, and it's one of those days where Boruto brings a friend home, a kunoichi around his age who he's been friends with for a while, and when Hinata meets this young lady for the first time, she feels a burning, almost scary desire that she's never felt before.
It's not the same feelings that welled up in Hinata when she met Naruto for the first time, it's something much darker, predatory even, it's an almost primal desire to dominate, hardly befitting the elegant Uzumaki matriarch. Hinata doesn't know what to make of these feelings, she's never found herself attracted to another woman before, especially not like this, but she quickly starts to like the new feelings this girl awakens in her, it's a rush, Hinata isn't stuttering at all and her usually soft voice hardens imperceptibly.
Hinata is able to get her alone surprisingly easy, Boruto is almost always in a rush and running off at a moment's notice, and Hinata is trustworthy enough for the girl to feel comfortable around her, and Hinata will make sure she's very comfortable, she's a good mother after all, and this young lady looks like she could really use a loving mommy right now.
"Have you been being nice to my son..? Oh that's good, good girl... Just think of yourself as a member of this family then, and think of me as your mommy..."
Hinata takes her role as a mommy very seriously, it's her job to keep her babygirl obedient and happy, so that's exactly what Hinata will do. While in a more dominant mindset, she'll still be gentle with her lively new friend, there will be plenty of time for Hinata to demonstrate her secret collection of toys later, for now she wants her guest to feel welcome.
While gentle, she is firm too, holding the girl's head firmly against Hinata's own generous breast as her fingers find their way into her panties, Hinata has enough experience with touching herself to know where girls like to be stimulated, but Hinata won't give her the instant gratification she most likely craves, the purple haired woman wants to draw it out, make it as slow and steady as possible.
Hinata will feel a slight twing of guilt for betraying Naruto in such a way behind his back, but she'll quickly push those feelings aside, she knows her husband is a kind and understanding man who understands that Hinata is a woman with needs like anyone else, and he'd probably want to dominate such an adorable little morsel too, so in the end Hinata feels little to no guilt, just a desire to love and dominate this girl.
She won't drag things out forever as much as she wants to, Hinata wants to see how adorable her plaything looks when she's cumming all over Hinata's fingers, her whines of pleasure and discomfort muffled by the older woman's mature breast in her mouth. But Hinata won't be completely satisfied after coaxing out just one measly orgasm, after all she's been aching for quite some time to be pleasured too.
"Good girl~ You came so much for Mommy... Now why don't you come to my room, hmm? My husband won't be home for a while, so I can show you all the fun toys I use when he's away..."
Hinata is glad she finally has someone to spend time with when her dear husband is away, which is often given his duty as Hokage, she's been feeling rather lonely lately, but now she has a little girlfriend to spend some much needed girl time with.
hii i love ur work smm <33 do u think u could write an obito x younger sister reader where he still becomes evil but he watches over in the village as the years pass and notices kakashi getting too close, so he kidnaps her and reminds her who she belongs to <3 thank u
Obito still possesses a deep resentment for the Hidden Leaf Village, and just reality itself, but there are two things that keep Obito spying on the village; Rin's grave, and his younger sister. Obito still has some semblance of love and protectiveness towards his sister, even if she is all grown up now and able to be on her own, Obito just wants to make sure that she's alive and well, as long as she isn't getting involved with the wrong crowd that is.
He's checking up on her one day when Obito gets his worst fears confirmed, his sister has fallen in with the wrong crowd, the worst crowd possible; Kakashi. Obito is enraged, wondering why she would involve herself with Kakashi of all people, she knows damn well that Kakashi was (and still is) his biggest rival, so why would she be getting so friendly with him?
The Uchiha can only reach the conclusion that she's either malicious, getting involved with Kakashi just to spite her dead brother, or she's forgotten about him, about her own brother, the one whose supposed to be the most important man in her life, and Obito just won't let that slide. He's going to make sure his sister learns two thing: that he's still alive and kicking, and that she belongs to him entirely.
He'll snatch her up the very second she's alone and vulnerable, didn't he ever tell her not to walk alone at night? He's disappointed in his dear sister's carelessness. She has no clue who this mysterious masked man grabbing her is, and it takes her a moment to realize who he is even after he removes the mask due to his scarring, but when she realizes that it's her presumed dead older brother, she looked horrified, especially since Obito looks pissed.
"I can't fucking believe you! I leave for a few years and you decide to jump ship to Kakashi of all people?! I think its time to show you who your real big brother is!"
He'll start dragging her away with the intention of taking her to his hideout, but she's struggling and screaming her empty little head off, she's being much too loud and annoying for Obito's liking. He'll take a little detour, one that will shut her up nice and quick. He'll shove her against a nearby tree, covering her mouth with one hand and holding her wrists with the other. He'll hiss at her one last time to keep her mouth shut before he begins to undo his pants.
Obito is normally very gentle with his sister, seeing her as delicate and helpless, but his judgement and rationale is greatly clouded by his anger at the moment, so he'll be anything but gentle as he rips off her panties and forces his cock into her without any preparation or consent. He might apologize to her later, and she has to forgive him, they're family after all.
Normally hearing his sister scream and cry would make Obito upset, even if it is muffled by his hand, but Obito has become nothing but normal since his supposed death, and instead of being saddened by the sight of his sister in pain because of him, it turns him on, his decency and morality seems to have died along with his old self.
He's in a bit of a rush, so Obito will dump his load into her pussy rather quickly, consequences be damned. He'll make a half hearted attempt at apologizing to her as his spent cock slides out of her cunt, but it's clear he doesn't exactly mean it, he just doesn't want her to completely hate him, but he'd be fine with her fearing him, it makes her more obedient that way.
"Don't be like that, this is just a punishment for your bad behavior. Now stop whining already, let's go home so I can make you feel better, like I used to..."
Of course when he says "home" he means his dark and dank cave he calls a hideout, but he can make it comfortable for her, if she's good. If she's an extra good girl, then he might even give her the privilege of having her own bed instead of being forced to share his.
Maybe an Akatsuki! Reader who gets caught by Jiraiya. He punishes the information out of her. But even after she gives him the info he keeps going. He has to teach her a lesson after all
tw: noncon, Akatsuki!Reader, age difference, interrogation, kidnapping, punishment, power imbalance, size difference, pussy slapping, cockwarming
All characters depicted are 18+
Despite his reputation for being a perverted and goofy old man, Jiraiya is more than capable of being shockingly serious when it comes to important missions given to him by Tsunade for the Hidden Leaf Village, especially if said missions are related to the notorious criminal organization known as The Akatsuki.
While Jiraiya is a seasoned ninja who has been trying to take down the Akatsuki for quite some time now, he knows very little of the organization, just the names of a few of it's members, and the groups goal of eventually taking over the world. But when he's finally able to discover the organization's base of operations; the Hidden Rain Village, Jiraiya sets off there right away, but he isn't exactly greeted with a nice welcome party when he gets there.
Jiraiya is known to not be a slouch in battle despite his age, so he's able to beat the Akatsuki kunoichi sent after him in a matter of moments with his superior combat skills and experience. Luck must be on his side today, because he gets to kill two birds with one stone. Not only does he have a live Akatsuki member to extract information from, but he also has a cutie with a cute body to extract 'inspiration' from.
She's a tough egg to crack however, and she doesn't seem very willing to spill any information in regards to the organization's leader's true identity anytime soon. Jiraiya really doesn't want to have to hit such a good looking young lady, but she's being a brat, and all uncooperative brats deserve a good spanking.
"Such a shame that you had to be such a naughty girl, but I'm not going to stop punishing this cute little pussy until you cooperate~! So are you going to spill your guts? Or am I going to have to slap you even more?"
Her pussy will be left sore and wet from the harsh spanking done to it, but that will be the least of her worries once she continues to keep her mouth shut about the Akatsuki's secrets. Jiraiya isn't annoyed by this setback, quite the opposite actually, now he has a living, unwilling volunteer for him to test the latest ideas for his next chapter on, and he's going to subject her to all his perverted desires until she starts to cooperate.
Spanking her adorable pussy is only so effective for so long, so Jiraiya is going to up the ante, instead of torturing her cunt with his open hand, he's going to torture her with his cock. Jiraiya will grant her a reprieve from the slapping, only to force his entire thick and long cock into her already aching and soaked cunt, not moving or letting her move an inch.
Jiraiya wants to drag this out for as long as he possibly can, having missed the feeling of having a tight young cunt wrapped around his cock. He really really wants to start moving inside of her and brutally fucking her to his heart's content, but he of all people knows that the mission comes first, and neither of them are allowed and relief until she changes her tune.
But even the strongest of shinobi can only withstand so much sensual torture for so long, and she'll start spilling her guts, much to Jiraiya's satisfaction, but even if she's telling the truth now, he's still not letting up on the punishment, he doesn't let naughty girls off the hook so easily.
"Good girl! I knew you had it in ya! Was that so hard?...Hm? Oh no no I'm not stopping yet, you're still a bad girl to your core after all..."
Jiraiya is glad that he's one step closer to uncovering the secrets of the Akatsuki, it makes his job all the more easier, and he's sure that the criminal organization won't be terribly upset about him stealing one of their cute little members along with their secrets.
IMPORTANT: this fic is not mine !! it was created by the lovely sukunasuka. i am simply reposting it for her fans who either miss it or never got the pleasure of witnessing it !! i copied and pasted it exactly, i will take it down the second she asks me to, or the second she returns to this app and i know. let's carry on <3.
WARNINGS: NSFW🔞, brocest, !ncest, somnophilia, dub con, non con, breeding, exhibitionism (im envisioning satoru in his mid to late twenties and reader in her early twenties but they can be any adult age you choose) ~ just a drabble~
nerdy big brother satoru is invisible to everyone but his little sister who loves him just a bit too much.
satoru’s kind of smelly, like sweat and must, because he only showers once a month since ‘showering once a day is a scam created by shampoo companies.’ his nose is always runny, and he simply wipes it on his shirt whenever it gets annoying, adding to the collection of food and snot stains on his sleeve. his glasses are pushed up as high as they can go on his face, hiding his features, he never did get his acne under control, and he’s blunt and borderline rude without even realizing it. his hair is a mess, but not in the charming, careless way. he pairs socks with crocs that are a horrendous vomit color because, apparently, ‘comfort’ equals efficiency. when he’s not writing some paper for his physics class, he spends his free time glued to some dumb video game with his online friends that are just as nasty and weird as he is. the only reason his clothes get washed is because he lives at home and his mother does it, picking up his dirty clothes off of the floor for him. the only time satoru interacts with girls is when they make dating him an insult to eachother.
but then there’s you. his little sister who idolizes him, who hangs out in his room because you seem to love his ‘scent.’ you watch him for hours, engrossed in some obscure game or reading up on a random topic with an intensity that makes everything else fade into the background.
he always uses the money he’s earned from being one of the top players in his game to walk you to the ice cream shop, buying you whatever you want. as you enjoy your ice cream, you listen to him passionately ramble about physics or his game, though it can be hard to keep up, since he talks faster than the speed of light when he’s excited. he’s so intelligent that your entire family jokes that he might have been switched at birth.
he always makes sure you have more food on your plate than he does when your mom makes dinner, even though you never finish the huge portion he gives you—he ends up eating it anyway. you sleep in his bed every other night, and he never complains. he just groggily pulls back the blanket and silently invites you in when you stand at his door. you don’t even have to ask him to wrap his arms around you anymore. you feel lucky to be one of the few who gets to see him without his glasses at the end of the day, showcasing his beautiful blue eyes, delicate white lashes, and perfectly coordinated features.
when your big brother complains to you that he’ll die alone and never find a girlfriend after having one particularly rough game match, you can’t help but feel bad for him. he accidentally gets carried away and blurts out that he’s tired of using his own hand to jerk off and he apologizes immediately, pleading with you not to tell your parents. your poor big brother doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong or how he could possibly understand why girls avoid him.
you’ve seen how your friend who recently entered a relationship spends all her time with her boyfriend, constantly talking about him, and even having him move out of his parents house to move in with her.
you never imagined a world without your big brother. he promised to always be in your life and you can’t fathom otherwise, so when you ask to sleep in his bed again, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and holding your pillow close, he doesn’t hesitate to make room and let you crawl in. you cuddle into him a little closer than usual but doesn’t mind; in fact, he finds it endearing, the way you push into him, your leg resting over his hip, and your breath warm against his neck. growing up, you were always by his side, hiding behind him, latched to his side. he’s glad you haven’t outgrown that closeness, and he holds you a little tighter too. even when you sniff at his neck and chest like you’re an animal trying to get a scent profile. he just lets out a relaxed breath and nudges his head against yours until you fall asleep.
when his loud, open-mouthed snores let you know he’s fallen asleep, you quietly wiggle out of his big arms and slip beneath the blanket. you pull down his sweatpants and pokémon underwear in one go and you poke at his dick, speaking little words of encouragement to it until it grows and lengthens. it gets so long that it taps your face, right under your eye!
it doesn’t bother you when his body convulses and he busts into your mouth as soon as you latched onto his lanky, thick tipped cock. although it was slightly difficult for you to swallow due to the sour taste, you’re just pleased to be sure that you can please your big brother the way he yearns for.
though, maybe you got carried away because when you get him hard enough to suck him back into your mouth, he wakes up with a hiss. he peers down to see a large tent in his blanket where your head is and feels a wet suction on his cock. he feels around the bed and his nightstand for his glasses frantically.
when he finally manages to put his glasses on, crookedly, and lifts the blanket to reveal you where his dick should be, his jaw drops in shock.
you stifle a giggle as you push him deeper into your throat, each movement eliciting gasps of disbelief from him. he stutters that he must be dreaming repeatedly, lost in sheer ecstasy. his body tenses comically; legs straight out, muscles rigid, back hunched slightly, ass clenched, and his hands form playful stalling gestures as if caught in a delightful seizure.
he busts for the second time, but it’s the first time he’s awake to witness it. his whimpers are so loud, you’re afraid your parents will wake up.
but then you just keep suckling, not even bobbing anymore but instead keeping him warm while swallowing and sucking on it. you think it’s cute as he repeatedly questions, “why??” confused and unsure of how he’s supposed to feel seeing his little sister’s eyes roll back as he ejaculates into her throat for the third time.
satoru starts whining that it hurts when you try to keep going so you pull back and try to catch your breath as his sensitive, utterly wet cock slaps onto his lower abdomen.
he questions you, asking all sorts of things in a shaky voice, as you slowly crawl up his body to straddle his hips, causing him to cringe in the middle of his question about why you did what you just did.
“do you do this while i sleep, often? where did you learn about ‘fellatio’? don’t you know this is wrong?” your responses to his questions are simple—either that you love him, a shrug, or just that you wanted to.
things took a turn when he told you to go back to your bed. you even started crying, and he had to reassure you, telling you as he takes your hand that, of course he still loves you, how could you think otherwise? he’s just really confused.
he nervously says that dad would kill him if he found out and without saying a word, you lean in and press your lips firmly against his. his eyes widen in shock, completely still, as you begin to softly peck him. his hands instinctively shoot up to push you away, but they pause midair. then, you gently slide your tongue across his lips, and then against his teeth and gums, slowly deepening the kiss. his hands gradually lower away from your shoulders, no longer resisting.
satoru doesn’t know how to kiss. unsure of what to do, he just follows his instincts, letting you take the lead. he doesn’t fully register what’s happening until your tongue pushed past his lips and then, without thinking, he just opens them slightly. he gasps, eyes wide, as you eagerly explore his mouth, your tongue licking into every part of his mouth cavity, like a cat grooming its kitten.
you’re whining and whimpering into his mouth like you’re in pain, even saying that your tummy is so full of his cum while you bring one of his hands to it, and he whines into your mouth with guilt, wishing you didn’t just say that. but fuck, he can’t deny how harmoniously blissful it feels when your tongue rubs against his. the second you feel his poor attempt at copying your sloppy kiss, you reach down and force his cock into you to the hilt until his tip kisses your womb.
after the initial, synchronized, blood-curdling gasp shared between you, satoru’s first words are, “we can’t have sexual intercourse as siblings!” but then you’re taunting him with a breathy “why?” over and over. you start to grind down on him, making his cock smear into every crevice in every wall of your insides in a circular motion.
he’s stuttering and whining, “b-because-!” but you just won’t let him finish his sentence or a coherent thought for that matter because you lift and slam your hips down every time he tries, send8!) a jolt of godlike bliss into him.
his single bed with dragon ball sheets creaks and groans with every desperate buck. his eyes are wide with confusion, yet every now and then, they roll in sheer pleasure. as the mix of moans, sticky squelching, skin slapping, and the creaking of his bed grows louder, he whimpers, “mom and dad!”
you know him so well that he doesn’t even need to explain — you instantly understand what he’s trying to say. you reassure him that they won’t wake up, they’re all the way across the house and dad snores so loud, it never wakes mom up, remember? it’s fine! satoru truly hopes so, because his door is unlocked.
as you began to babble about how much you love him, he stutters that he loves you too at first, but soon his little ‘i lo-love you t-too!’s gave way to slurs and desperate whines. he’s trying to focus on enduring the brunt of your movements, bracing himself as if taking a punch, twitching and spasming with every impact and that tight clench of your walls around him, hoping to survive this overwhelming onslaught.
satoru kept his hands to himself for a while now, hesitant to touch you, despite his length disappearing deep into your gushy insides. but when you begin to , slowly and thoroughly lick his neck repeatedly, while you sloppily humped him, his hands shot to your hips, gripping the skin tightly. it’s as though he’s trying to stop you in the name of morals, but the way he digs his fingers into your hips betrays him—he isn’t using nearly enough force to actually halt you.
after you milked him three times with your throat, he’s thankfully lasting longer than he would have inside of a pussy otherwise. still, having only experienced the sensation of his own hand before tonight, he’s already on the brink of cumming after just ten minutes.
he starts frantically begging you to get off, pleading with you to stop and please please get off but instead, you sink your teeth into his shoulder. with one final, forceful plunge down, you stop moving entirely, locking your hips against his, cock so deep that your outer lips press into the skin where his pubes meet.
it’s like you’re using your hole as a suction tube that’s built with the intention to stimulate a humans cock in all the right ways as to collect semen efficiently. he feels like he’s tied down by metaphorical ropes and forced to cum into the tube with no way of fighting it.
his warnings urge you to reach between your bodies and circle your clit frantically. it doesn’t even take thirty seconds for you to cum because just the thought of him releasing his purest form of love into your heart shaped womb is too precious.
his breathing is erratic, almost alarming, while his eyes flicker and twitch. his toes curl, and his hips jerk up involuntarily one last time as he pleads ‘noo!’ one last time. his mouth hangs open in a way that almost looks comical as his cock jolts, breeding you. if you could somehow see inside your body with an x ray of sorts, you’d witness the way his cock twitches in tandem to the cum traveling through it, only to be drawn in and milked by your pulsing walls, perfectly made to collect it. you feel absolute bliss, as his dna pools within you, bringing you as close as physically possible.
you collapse onto his body, both of you gasping for air. with a shaky hand, he adjusts his crooked glasses, carefully straightening them.
despite everything, satoru softly asks if you’re okay, his tone full of the brotherly concern you love so much. you hum happily in response, your body reacting as your pussy clenches, making him let out a guttural wheeze, as though he’d been punched in the stomach. you both stay like that for a long time, and when you ask him to, satoru gently rubs your back, just like he does when you can’t sleep, while you rest against him, his cock still warm inside your body.
he listens carefully, straining to hear any sign that your parents are awake as you lie together in the afterglow. thankfully, he hears nothing. when you start showering sweet kisses along his neck and up to his jaw, he feels a flutter in his stomach, and his cock jerks. but he pulls his head away slightly and gently grabs your shoulders to pull you away, looking you in the eye. you break free from his grasp and continue kissing him all over his face, even as he tells you this is wrong and it can never happen again.
but satoru can tell himself whatever he wants because twenty minutes and an energy drink from his mini fridge later, he’s pounding you into his bed like his life depends on it. you cry out, eyes permanently rolled to the back of your skull as he’s forcing you to stay deep down in a mating press. he’s pushing you down with more force than he realizes, the stretch painful as he’s unaware of how much weight he’s placing on you. you can barely breathe, but you don’t mind. you know it’s because he’s inexperienced, too lost in the ecstasy between your legs to pay attention to anything else.
satoru even starts crying pathetically in utter guilt as he ruts into you sloppily and erratically hard because he’s not used to this hip motion or exercise in general. he’s whining drawn out and pathetic that he’s so sorry, over and over again, babbles that he’s just not used to this and can’t stop. to comfort him, you grip his tear-streaked cheeks and pull him close, encouraging him to drop his full weight onto you into a deep hug, above and below. you kiss him deeply, exchanging breaths and saliva, offering reassurance in the midst of his turmoil that it’s okay i love you.
many positions and rounds later, pillows and blankets are everywhere but the bed and he’s basically just sloshing his own cum back into you. the only evidence of cum around the room is between your legs because big brother satoru can’t possibly find the willpower to pull out now after you showed him how intimate a creampie is.
by the end of the night, you’re both so exhausted that you end up sleeping through the entire next day. your parents find it endearing how close you two still are, thinking it’s cute that you spent all night playing video games together, especially since satoru has no friends. however, when they make a comment about you guys being too loud, satoru nearly breaks down crying, about to confess everything. thankfully, under the table, you manage to grab his cock through his pants just in time, freezing him in place as you quickly make an excuse to your parents and apologize for the noise.
satoru likes to insist it was just a one-time thing whenever the topic comes up in conversation, especially when you tease him about it. but no matter how much he tells himself that, it just keeps happening—again and again.
the second time it happens, you rub him through his sweatpants at dinner without even looking at him while you tell your parents about an upcoming project for one of your lectures. he tried to make you stop but he busts in his pants. he even got mad at you for a few hours after, ignoring you with a hard expression until you surprised him with his favorite mochi and said you’re sorry. (you’re not.)
the third time, you claim that you want to take a bath with him like old times and your parents just love how much closer you guys are lately! satoru even believed your innocent act as you sat with your back to his chest in the water, until you lodged your brother into your pussy. when he started reprimanding you, you explained to him that cock warming isn’t fucking and sat there for thirty minutes. satoru ended up being the one to grow impatient. he wrapped one arm around your chest and shoulders, one around your lower hips, and humped up into you like a rabbit, making a watery mess on the floor. he doesn’t much care for cock warming.
the fourth time, satoru gets a job to buy a car just so he can drive you two out to an anime convention on a little siblings trip. you ended up fucking through the whole weekend without ever even leaving the hotel room. nerdy satoru even initiated some of it: telling you not to sleep in the extra bed, giving a little peck goodnight with the claim that a small peck is healthy between family (not like your other kisses at all), cuddling you into him like you’re his own personal stuffed animal, telling you how much he enjoys spending time with you, rubbing his hands up and down your back affectionately. it’s not long until his hands venture down to your ass and then before you know it, he’s thrusting into you as he holds your head so it doesn’t bang into the head board.
the fifth time, you sneak under his desk as he wrote a physics paper and you drank milk until you grew sleepy and passed out on his thigh as his cock twitched and kissed your cheek in appreciation. he wrote the word ‘the’ in the span of an hour.
the sixth time, you were doing a family movie night, and someone had to make popcorn so you and satoru hopped up to make it, since that’s a two man job, according to you. stovetop popcorn is just so much better than the easy microwave one your parents urged you to do. the second you turn on the stove, you called out that you couldn’t even hear the movie and grabbed the remote from the counter to turn it all the way up as satoru kissed your neck. your mouths crashed together the second you put the remote down and it doesn’t take long for him push you to lean over the counter and slowly, slowly slide in and out of you as to not make a lot of noise while your parents were mere feet away, happily unaware while the popcorn is popping. just in time, the popcorn timer went off as you came.
the seventh time, you were at some college party and you fed whispers into his ear in the corner of the room as you -not so subtly- pawed at his growing bulge. detailed coos of how you wanted him to fuck and lick and finger you as his eyes swirled in a spiral. he nervously fingered you, terribly with inexperience, in the bathroom before you got frustrated and shoved his face into your slit. it was so nice to make out and grope him in public where no one knows you’re related<3
satoru doesn’t mind not having a girlfriend anymore.
✧˖° Summary: You're Shisui's ward. Itachi's student. Basically, off limits. Kakashi knows this. He also knows your training schedule, your route home, and the fact that you never close your curtains. Pakkun calls it creepy. Kakashi calls it protective. Either way, someone has to make a move, and it's not going to be him. Good thing his ninken has no such reservations.
Life Isn't Icha Icha ch. 3: How to Train Your Kakashi
“A true tactician studies every entrance and exit… because the difference between an unforgettable night and an awkward apology is knowing exactly where and when you’re allowed to slip in.”
-POOF-
"KAKASHI?!"
He doesn't panic, at least not on the outside. He lowers his hand from his hair, nice and easy, then gives you that signature eye crinkle and a lazy wave. "Hey, you."
Pakkun vanishes without a word, and Kakashi is left standing in a clearing with absolutely no context.
What the hell just happened?
He doesn't get the chance to figure it out.
"HEY???" Your eyes are wide and your voice cracks as you scream it out. You're staring at the spot where Pakkun used to be, then at Kakashi, then back at the spot. "Was that—" You point at the empty space. "Was that a ninken?!"
Kakashi blinks. "Oh. Yeah. That was Pakkun."
You visibly malfunction. Your hands fly up to your head, fingers gripping your hair as you start pacing in a tight circle, muttering “oh no” under your breath repeatedly at increasing speeds.
So Pakkun never told her he could talk. Which means she thought he was a stray. Which means she probably...
Kakashi sighs internally.
"So.” He bites back a smile. “What did you do to my dog?"
Read from the beginning on AO3.
From the world of The Version That Saved You.
Synopsis. Gojo Satoru - campus boyfriend, MVP of the basketball team - can score a slam dunk but he can’t score you?! So what could go wrong when he asks you for pointers…in the bedroom?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, D1 basketball player!Gojo, college AU, friends-to-Iovers, PINING Gojo, kinda romcom, popular!Gojo, spin the bottIe, kíssing for “practice”, first times (Gojo’s), handj’s, semi-pubIic (locker room), fíngering, he comes back for more, oraI (fem rec.), PÚSSYDRÚNK Gojo, running from it, spítting, p talking, chokíng, matíng presses, manhandIing, he’s tall, Gojo with a big D, making it fit, talking you through it, tummy buIges, p sIapping, rough s, breaking the bed, creampíes, slight cúmplay, confessions, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 13.3k
A/N. *throws loverboy Gojo at you and runs*
“Let’s play spin the bottle!”
There wasn’t much room for rational say. Not when Shoko was already pushing an empty beer bottle into your hands, Haibara practically vibrating with excitement as he shuts the door to the raging party outside.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t the most sophisticated of games - but what else could you expect from one of Geto and Gojo’s infamous house parties?
“Fine—” You’re smiling, to the slurred cheers of your messy lil’ circle of friends. “But if I get you, Sho, you better watch out.”
She puckers up dramatically, “I’m looking forward to it- that is, if someone doesn’t kiIl me fir-”
“Shut up, bob cut.” Ah, the star of the show cuts her off hastily, a drunken flush creeping down his neck. You’re raising a brow at the impatience - but when Gojo Satoru speaks, everyone listens. Everyone waits as the bottle in the middle spins.
And spins.
And spins.
And stops-
Geto is the first to crack a grin, “Oh, Satoru~”
“Oh.”
Notorious chatterbox, mean loudmouth, and the student that had oh-so-famously gotten detention for probing into Professor Gakuganji’s sex life - but that was all Gojo had to say right now?
With a slight huff of laughter, you’re staring down the amber bottleneck- aimed directly opposite you, towards where your friend was sprawled across the carpet like he owned it.
Which was, honestly, how you’d always known Gojo.
Whether it was on the basketball court or accosting you on the very first day of orientation, there was a reason every student on campus knew his name. Knew his number. Knew the nights of his parties.
But didn’t know whether they wanted to be him or be with him.
Which was why it made your heart thud in a singular beat of surprise to glance upwards and find Gojo looking so…lost. Rosy lips parted, chest unmoving like he’d forgotten to breathe.
And somewhere down the line, you swear you notice him gulp. Biceps straining against his flowery button-up as he pushes back those angelic white bangs of his, Gojo’s azure eyes flit furiously between the bottle, and you, the bottle, and you, the bottle-
“Ehem.” Shoko coughs into her fist, with the pointed subtlety of a sledgehammer.
You see her flick a finger towards the wide wooden closet that loomed ominously by the far wall. “If you’re going to eye-fuck, I suggest you do it in- hck! there like the game says. Uta’s about to throw up already.”
Said Utahime dry heaves, “I’m not.”
“And who suggested this game?” But you’re standing up to a few jeers anyway- what’s one silly kiss between friends, after all? It was a small group of your friends, and a few stragglers starstruck by their proximity to Gojo.
Though, turning around, you’re realizing that Gojo was, too.
Narrowing your eyes in confusion, “Satoru?”
Gojo’s tongue darts out to nervously wet his lips, “Yeah? I- oh.” Geto reaches over to thump his best friend on the back, making the other man startle into a stand.
Stumbling up on agile feet for a few steps, before he’s crossing the circle to grasp your hand in his large ones-
And that just makes the room erupt.
“That’s my boy–!”
“Don’t get pregnant– I can’t be an uncle yet.”
“Yuck.”
Cackles, cat calls, and a few obnoxious moans that ring out even louder than the thumping bass from the party downstairs. You’re crinkling your nose in amusement once Gojo flips them off and speedwalks towards the closet with crimson ears, dragging you straight in tow.
“Sa-Satoru.” You’re giggling, stepping inside the stuffy space.
The smell of prized vodka and mothballs cling to every surface of the closet like an outdated perfume. And from where you’re pressing yourself up against one mahogany wall, you can feel the soft press of clothes tickle your body.
It was dark inside - darker than dark, in fact. Your only merciful source of light coming from the dim yellow glow of Haibara’s room from underneath the cracks in the door.
But even with the cloak of obscurity, you can already make out how snug of a fit it was inside.
Because Gojo was towering - what else could you have expected from the ace of your university’s basketball team?
Unruly strands of ivory brushing against the closet ceiling, broad shoulders cushioned by either wall. He has to press two palms upon either side of your body and lean down just to hear you speak, “Do you want to do this? Y’know we don’t have to-”
“Yes.” He’s breathing, labored. Uneven. Before catching the glint in your eyes and sputtering- “I mean- ah, I mean, why not.” Wincing, “…Do you?”
You hum, taking in the heady scent of his cologne. Cherries. “I mean— we should be good sports about the game.”
“The game- the game, yes.” Gojo nods, a thin line of sweat starting to bead from his temple. And maybe it was the punch, maybe it was the dizziness of being so close- but did Gojo Satoru just stutter? “So you…want to kiss me?”
Your head tilts in question, and he flinches at the teasing look in your eyes.
Fuck, was he ever-so-glad it was too dark in here for you to see the way his ears burn.
“I-I mean, of course you want to kiss me.” With a slight puff of his sculptured chest, Gojo fluffs up his hair. Nose turning up in that haughty way it often did whenever someone asked for his number. “Who wouldn’t? I’m Gojo Satoru, after all. So, of course, I should kiss you, too- and I should s-stop talking and do that right now and- wow, is it just me or is it really hot in here-”
Then you’re shutting him up - with your mouth on his.
Murmuring into his parted maw, “Shut the fuck up.” And the only thing sweeter than the taste of his soft, candied lips was the way that Gojo presses his ripped body further against yours and moans.
Low, primal. Like it was something being wrenched from the deepest depths of his throat and he couldn’t possibly control it even if he wanted to.
So the only thing his poor, muddled body can think to do is lap at the glossy crevice of your own lips. Wobbly mouth tuggin’ on your greedily, it was almost cute the way that Gojo’s grunting just as soon as you pull away with a lewd wet noise-
Staring at him in awe, even in the darkness you could make out the ruddied shade of his blush.
“Uh…” You pipe up, after a few seconds of silence, your friend’s gaze still locked on your lips. The skin of his cheeks flare red-hot underneath where you’d grabbed him with your hands. “Hello? Don’t tell me I broke y-”
He’s attacking your mouth once more.
Ravenous, Gojo’s sultry lips drag allll across yours. Washboard abs pinning you to the wall of the closet, the pointed tip of his nose bumping messily into yours. He lets off a throaty keen as you’re parting your mouth with a gasp, “M’sorry.”
“H-hngh, Satoru-” The temperature inside this lil’ space heightens enough to make your goosebumps sizzle.
“M’sorry.” He’s drunkenly whispering, one of his meaty knees saddling right between your thighs. You’re whimpering at the feeling of his flexed muscles, “M’sorry m’sorry I-”
One of his trembling hands slides up n’ down your back, as if Gojo didn’t trust himself to hold too still. And his touch was seeping warmth through your thin dress, lungs screaming for air-
“I’m sorry, it’s just- you. I don’t think I can control-” He’s interrupting himself with another chase of your mouth, sloppily sucking on the tip of your tongue. Gojo lets a slick puddle of drool formulate on the corner of his swollen lips, eyes glassy when he’s kneading his hips forwards to rut- “D-did you know that this is my first-”
“Time’s up lovebirds—! Oh.”
The sudden explosion of light strikes you like whiplash, and both of you snap your heads towards the entrance to the closet.
Geto stands frozen, slightly silhouetted by the bedroom glow. But nothing - absolutely nothing - can hide the way his sly eyes widen ever-so-slightly, caught off-guard by the vision before him.
He darts his peripherals to Gojo’s hands dipping dangerously low on your hips, to the manner you’re pinned against one wall, to the way your lips are swollen.
And Gojo’s were worse.
It’s only then that your head’s clearing up enough for you to try and half-heartedly push at your friend’s heaving chest- to no avail, of course. Because Gojo doesn’t move a single inch, in fact, he’s only tugging you closer to him with a slight growl.
Looking over his shoulder at the intruder, his eyes narrow—“Fuck off.”
“This- we-” You’re starting, unsure why you were so heated when this was the entire point of the game.
But Geto beats you to it- “Well, this is certainly better than I thought. I expected our dear Satoru here to piss his pants and faint. Congratulations.” He points at something near Gojo’s khaki shorts, “Fix that.”
Fix…? In unison, you slowly swivel your heads down and find your mouth drop-
“Fuck! Suguru-” It’s only then that Gojo lets go of you like the mere feeling of your body scalded his own.
Back shoving against the other end of the closet, both hands flailing downwards to hide the massive outlined bulge you’d caught just a glimpse of. And yet, even that wasn’t enough for him to hide the utter raw tightness in his pants.
Your mind sparks once you register that he was rock-fucking-hard.
Handsome cheekbones all stained with rouge, you catch the smear of your lipgloss glitter all across Gojo’s lips when he hisses at the other man. “It went down just looking at you.”
“Liar.”
“Asshole.”
“Vir-”
“Shut up.” Slightly slurred by your moments prior, there’s a slight daze within Gojo’s stare as he turns to you - still covering his erection. “I-I can explain, I actually-”
Whatever half-baked excuse it was, you don’t have the privilege of hearing it.
Because just then, rings out a call of your name—Shoko. And you could recognize her rarely-serious tone anywhere, making you hastily step out of the closet. Leaving behind a sputtering Gojo Satoru and a snickering Geto Suguru to instead head back to your circle. “Everything alright?”
A few cackles escape your friends at the sight of you - all dishevelled and kissed stupid.
Hell, even Shoko manages to break through the worried furrow in her brow to let off a slight giggle. “Mhm, my greatest apologies for interrupting Satoru’s little wet dream-” Ignoring the aforementioned man’s cranky ‘hey!’ as he closely follows you. “-but Uta isn’t feeling well, so we might just head back.”
You nod, “I’ll come-”
“No no, stay with-”
“We should get her to bed.” You’re waving off her protests, a no-brainer to go with the friend who was visiting all the way from Kyoto. Picking up Utahime’s bag as she starts to fight back her gags once more. “It was probably that cheap beer, I told her not to trust anything Usami bought.”
It’s with a few rapid goodbyes and promises to send photographs that your little trio staggers out of Haibara’s room, Utahime clinging onto both of you. Babbling weakly, “M’sorry for ruining your love story.”
The pit of your stomach twists with something you don’t know how to name, “You didn’t ruin anything.” Brows furrowing, “And what love story?”
“B-but-” She wails, making a few heads turn. “-but it’s been years- mmpf!”
Shoko sighs, one hand firmly slapped on Utahime’s mouth now. She throws a meaningful glance at her friend, “We’re never drinking again.”
Meandering through the throngs of people and alcohol, at an equal ratio - you’ve just got a foot out of the penthouse doorway; the one that Gojo rents for him and his friends, the hotspot for your university’s student body to be on a weekend night-
-when Gojo himself breaks through the overstuffed crowd.
“W-wait–!”
“Satoru?” You’re swerving back in confusion, eyelids squinted at the flashing strobe lights.
The party atmosphere paints his pale hair in red n’ pink, bringing out the prettiest specks of grey in his blue irises.
And Gojo gasps, he heaves - seemingly more at the sight of you than the entire trek it had been to weave through a party that yearned for but a simple glimpse of him. Even now, he was deaf to the calls of his name from all sides, the hands patting him on the back- only letting out—“Do you…want to do something?”
You almost have half the mind to look behind you, “Do something?”
“An outing.”
“An outing?”
“A science experiment.”
“A science experiment?” You gawk, slightly appalled at the fact that Gojo Satoru of all people wanted to take up extra credit on a weekend. “Did you drink that bad beer too? Because-”
“Dammit-” Without warning, he’s smacking his forehead. “Just- just meet me, to talk about something. I’ll text you.”
You have to fight to keep your voice even- from amusement if not for genuine concern. “And you couldn’t text me that? You had to run all this way.”
He almost pouts with a huff, “Had to say it before I lost my nerve.”
“But-”
“She’ll be there.” Shoko’s vocalizing from your right, still holding up a dangling Utahime. And there’s something knowing - something meaningful - in her smirk, “I’ll make sure of it. If you beg on your knees, that is.”
Gojo flips her off in two seconds.
Then he’s on his knees in one.
“G-get up–!” You damn-near shriek, feeling the party buzz and gape at the encounter - you think you even see one attendant pull out her phone and start recording, sure to make a splash in the campus bulletin by tomorrow. “I’ll be there- just- go-”
Still unsteady from whatever the fuck that was, you’re shuffling into the elevator for Shoko’s Uber. still feeling Gojo’s stare burning into you afterwards.
Blissfully dazed as the doors close behind his slight, anxious wave, Utahime cups your cheek and slurs. “You’re going to make such beautiful hck! babies. All from you, of course.”
.
.
.
“So…what did you need to talk to me about?”
“T-talking? Did I say talking? Well, I was really gone that night, y’know that-”
“Satoru.”
“-and we’re talking right now, aren’t we-”
“Satoru.”
If it was physically possible for a basketball player - numerous inches over six feet, unfairly chiselled, with a shock of white hair above all - to hide behind a humble convenience store shelf then Gojo certainly didn’t know how.
But that didn’t stop him from trying.
And his tufts of pale bangs flinch at the stern tone of your voice, despite being separated by an entire aisle.
Blatantly avoiding being in your proximity, Gojo’s simply pushin’ aside a few bags of chips to peek at you from the other side of the shelf. Shoulders hunched, eyes crinkling once he’s noticing your no-nonsense stance. “You see…remember how, last night, had that little erm- problem-”
“Your erection?” You’re questioning, purposefully not lowering your voice to make him squirm.
And he shushes you frantically, looking around the store - there was only a sweet elderly lady a few shelves down, and he was hoping to the heavens above that her hearing aid was turned down. “Yes- yes, that. And I said I could explain…well…”
“Well?”
Inhaling a deep, deep breath, “I’mactuallykindofatotalvirginandIwantedyoutohelpmewithsomepointersmaybe.” He’s forced to inhale an even deeper breath after that.
“Y-you’re a…” It felt like you’d just short-circuited. Only one word from that entire jumbled mess standing out to you - virgin.
Not that there was a problem with that. It’s just- there was no way that Gojo was a virgin - not after all the stories that girls and guys alike would whisper about him in bed. Not after the harem of fans that would follow him ‘round each party like a second skin unless your friends dragged him away. Not after the way he had a new number being begged to be put into his phone every day.
And yet, Gojo’s nodding at your unspoken question.
Somehow, it suddenly made sense that in all the years you’d known him, you’d never seen him go on a single date. But no one had to actually date to hook up. Sputtering, “And was that your-”
“First…kiss…” He grimaces, fingers twitching like they were about to topple the entire aisle of chips just to escape this conversation. Before smoothing his features back with a gasp- “B-but that was the best first kiss I could’ve ever dreamed of- I kinda did dream about it later but…”
As you start to slowly back away, he waves his hands fervently. Panic seeping into his voice, “Don’t run!” Withering at the way the old lady nearby turns, “I-I mean, that’s exactly why I need you. I need you to teach me–!”
You feel your heart race, voice lilting high. “Teach you?”
“Teach me how to—” Your friend waves his hands wildly, and you’ve never seen him so stressed - not even before his biggest games. “-not embarrass myself if I do something like that.”
Crossing your arms, the thought churns over and over in your brain. He wants to…kiss you again? “So…let me get this straight- you want me to give you lessons on how to kiss someone?”
“And maybe…other…stuff.”
“Satoru, you us want to hook up-”
“Teach me.” He pleads, baritone crackling just a bit. A sharp smack resounds as he clasps his hands together in prayer position, “I just need you to give me a few tips- a few pointers, I swear. Just a few lessons so I won’t embarrass myself like that ever again. I could get on my knees again if you want-”
“No! Shut the fuck up.” You bark out, hands coming up to massage your temples. “I need to…think.”
And all it takes is one look at the other lady beside you two, discreetly turning her hearing aids up, for you to stride your way to Gojo’s side of the aisle. Right where he was holding up a packet of chips like a shield, waiting for you to burst.
He wants to be intimate with you.
He wants a repeat of the party.
He liked it?
Something about that, you liked.
You sigh, a sound that felt years older than you were. “Fine.”
“Yes-”
“But we’re doing this platonically. And I’m only doing this because I don’t wanna hear you begging. Or hear any girls laughing at you, because that’s embarrassing for me.”
Your head swivels behind you - ah, perfect. The two of you were loitering right between the chips and contraception shelves. “Lesson number one, wrap it before you tap it.”
Gojo starts into motion, eager to please. Though, it wasn’t very pleasant for you once his hand shoots out immediately to pluck at the gold n’ black box of Trojan Magnum…XL.
“Hah! That’s funny.” Your grin twitches at his blank expression, “That’s a joke, right?” Then completely dissolving at his silence. “…Right?”
You’re still ogling in utter disbelief even as you walk to the weary young cashier, in line behind that old lady. “Satoru- are you sure you need that one? Lesson number two is you don’t have to compensate.”
“I’m actually worried it won’t fit.” He frowns, closely reading the measurements in the back. And from the corner of your eye, your imposing fellow customer gawks, discreetly hurrying up the payment. “Maybe lesson number three could be the pull out game.”
And right before you can answer - maybe make fun of his confidence, maybe even call off the entire deal altogether - the grim elderly lady taps your arm before leaving. “Good luck, dearie.”
.
.
.
“Sh-shit.” Gojo’s mouth closes and gapes stupidly, and no matter how much his firm chest heaves, he can’t steady his pitch. He can’t catch his breath.
He can’t even think about anything other than the feeling of your soft, pretty hands wrapped ‘round his rock-hard dick.
A quick trip to your apartment later, with him backed into the corner of your couch, and you’re not making fun of him anymore.
You knew what they say about men with big feet - but Gojo’s throbbing erection was even bigger than you could’ve imagined.
Just about nine- maybe even ten hot, pinkish inches that glistened with a steady stream of precum. So hard that it looked painful, so thick that you’re having trouble closing your wrist over his circumference.
Gojo’s slender hands grabbing onto each side of the couch to push n’ push his restless body upwards. “Shit shit shit- what the fuck-”
Grappling, fighting, in a split-second he feels the crown edge of your thumb graze his slit and damn near loses his mind.
“Shiiiiit—” Almost whiny, if this was any other time then he’d be fucking embarrassed about the way his bass cracks at the very end of his sentence.
“Shush, Satoru.” Your voice purrs, and just the sultry sound of it is enough to make his swollen cock twitch. Glistening out a treacly line of pre from the strawberry-pink orifice at the top of his shaft, “Lesson number three is to learn to be quiet. My landlord’s gonna complain.”
“Well, lil’ landlord Higuruma doesn’t have your cute hands on his cock, does he, beautiful?”
“Well you’re failing the lesson then.”
“Fine.”
In retaliation, you’re giving him a looong, languid stroke along his vein-covered length. Mouth watering at the delicious way it makes him throw a hand up to cover his flushed face, other hand resting on your wrist.
Gojo’s hands were big- bigger than yours, and much more suited to help pump his prolonged cock with ease.
Possessively, he’s curling your pretty fingers tighter ‘round his girth and bounces up n’ down, up n’ down, up n’ down. Whispering, “Faster- faster now, my girl- I mean- beautiful.”
“It’s just-” You’re nearly biting down on your own tongue, reluctant to state anything that would feed your popular friend’s ego.
But you just couldn’t help it when he looked so pretty - eyes glazed with unshed tears and need, high cheekbones permanently pink, his fat cock pulsing between your fingertips with each passing second. And you swear the blushin’, bulged tip of his shaft swells even bigger with your intense stare, “Lesson number four is that you’re big. It makes it almost…difficult.”
“O-oh.”
Without a second of warning, Gojo’s slouching his muscular body over. Rosy lips pursed to depart with a glob of spit— straight down to the tip-top of his erection.
Letting the sticky mess trickle down the side of his shaft, he’s moving your hands to glue over his tender underside. Fap-fap-fapping rapidly, the sides of your pinkies spank against his bulky base and make him keen.
“Difficult? Difficult?” Tonality just seeping with grunts, your touch smears the glossy webs of saliva down each vein. “M’passin’ this lesson with flying colors- oh, you’re gonna take it. How could anyone even- ngh- compete?”
“And here I thought y-you were the competitive one.” You’re garbling out your words, feeling your palms massage with the zig-zagged ridges of his length.
“H-heh- hell yeah, I am.” With a pant, Gojo’s twisting his hand - one of his encapsulating both of yours, and something primal in you twitches at the stark size difference - to jerk down his slicked cock. “Faster.” Voice ruined. “Faster.” Breathy. “Fast- ngh-”
He can’t even think to finish his sentence before his body ruts- ethereal head thrown back, lips gnawed raw like bubblegum. “Oh, ohhhh, never felt like this.”
And Gojo Satoru - famed for his steadiness, his agility - had never sounded so uneven. With his sweaty scalp lolling back and forth like he didn’t know whether to push backwards or keep looking down at your work.
Drag after lewd drag.
He was so lengthy n’ big that your arms were almost aching at this point, repeatedly pumping from the ruby-red globe of his cockhead, and down, down, down.
“Pretty hands hck! tired, huh?” But Gojo’s only maneuvering faster- capped knees spreading on the cushions of your couch to buck into you faster. “Come on- come on come on- don’t stop.”
“S’this any different from your- hah- usual routine, Satoru?” Even you were out of breath at this point.
You’re flicking your doughy fingerpad in a lazy line underneath the flared line of his slit and watch as Gojo only babbles. “Yeah- never felt something so…f-fuck, why are you so soft.” Large palms pressing down on yours, exactly where you could feel the outline of his shaft pulsing the most. His shoulders shake with each singular thwack! of your hand hitting his hilt, white curls bouncing. “So tight-”
Your friend’s fingers were dexterous, curling inwards so that your manicured nails would graze his swollen balls.
They were slightly tanner than the rest of him, glittered with speckles of buttery precum that you take it upon yourself to gyrate your palm against. Purposefully pressing down lecherously–
And when Gojo looks up with a slight, dopey grin you knew that whatever fell next from that devastating mouth would not bode well for you. “Wonder if your pretty pussy would be just as ngh- tight.”
You feel your poor heart stutter—“Sh-shut the fuck up.”
“Ohhh- that almost made me cum.” He’s admitting through a raspy gasp, cadence giving way to something needier. Something harder. Something that was nearly scraping the flesh of your hands raw with his white happy trail. “S-say it again-”
“Shut up-”
Sapphire eyes squeeze shut, and the front of your poor skirt starts dripping with a few creamy wads of his pre. He was close. “Ngh-”
Thighs pressing together, suddenly you’re realizing just how drenched your panties were. “Aren’t you supposed to be- fuck, learning a lesson?” And oh, were you shocked you managed to keep your voice even.
“Mmm, I’m learning alrigh’---” Gojo drawls, looking at you with such heated half-closed eyes that you can only more thoroughly drag your thumb down the line of his sensitive slit. “Shit- stop that- wait, don’t stop-”
Brain sparking, he’s singing out in protesting groans at the same time as your furniture. The cushions dipping as Gojo’s lurching his lanky body off of the couch, like he didn’t know whether he wanted to fuck your first for more, more, more or run away–
“Learning, huh?” You’re cracking a grin in amusement, hands letting off the sappiest squelches as you decide to slow down for his own sake. “Lesson number five…”
“No!” He’s pulling you back, he’s wrestling your hands to jerk faster, he’s grabbing you by the throat- left hand clinging onto the sides of your neck and squeezing.
Scorching hot breath wafts your face as Gojo’s staring dead-on into your own pupils, “Stay. K-keep going. Keep going.” Something at the back of his throat makes him choke. “M’so close- don’t you fucking stop.”
“Fuck, Toru-”
“So fucking—” Your skin heats up with clammy warmth following the feeling of his sleazy eyes sweeping all down your body. Your hands working over time. Your hips slightly bucking back. Your tits-
Which he’s tugging down to see with an index hooked to the front of your top.
And you catch the exact moment that he does - the exact moment that his long, ivory lashes flutter further open, mouth parting with slick drool, face flushing.
Because that very day, you’d just-so-happened to have worn a special set of blue underwear. The exact same color as his eyes.
And it’s enough to make Gojo cum. Instantly.
He couldn’t even have the rationality to be mortified at the pathetic suddenness of it, because all he could do was lock his heady gaze onto your bra-clad tits n’ cream all down your wrist.
Hot and aching.
Throbbing.
“Mmm, Satoru.” Splurging out from the swollen end of his shaft - the same shade as a strawberry, and twice as plump. Now with buttery sap to match. Something about that makes your mouth water. “Cum f’me- cum more.”
He was fucking up through each peak of his high like he was dying to pump each n’ every drop into your pussy.
“Fuh-fuck.” And it’s hot, almost like he was melting out into you. A slow line of sweat dripping down his temple at the utter bursts of pleasure behind his hazy peripherals. “Cumming—m’cumming so much for you, beautiful.” Hauling your body closer to his, he’s spraying such thick, ribbony volumes of cum that you almost couldn’t believe it.
Jaw unfastened at the rapidly-growing puddle of ivory sap on your skirt. He’s so sensitive that he’s flinching just from the sound of your voice, like his favorite song. “Do you always cum so much, Satoru?”
“N-no—” Gojo huffs, slightly squeaky with his unstable pitch. “Only for you. When it’s you, I…”
Trailing off, both of you look down in synchronization at the glaze of white cum that’d started to trail down your forearm. And before you can let out a single word, he has one hand tuggin’ on your wrist.
Guiding your trembling fingers to unglue from Gojo’s pulsing, reddened cock with a sluuurp! He’s promptly sucking on your glossy fingertips with a moan.
“Mm, so good.” Heavy erection still bobbing with the zaps of his euphoria, he looks up at you through long lashes - in a way that makes you gulp. Something he’s surely feeling, if the way that those fingers tighten on your neck says anything. “S’sweeter when it’s by you.”
Oh.
You’re fucked.
.
.
.
“Oiiiii—Satoru—!” Whenever Geto spoke in that tone, it couldn’t mean anything but trouble. He looks past the (multiple) groups of the usual onlookers, “Your cute lil’ girlfriend’s here~”
“Geto Suguru, you know my name.” You’re snarling from your close seat on the first row of court bleachers, realizing only too-late that you made a fatal mistake. “A-and I’d never be this one’s girlfri-”
“Ohhh, did you hear that?” Of course, the inky-haired man is ignoring every word that falls from your traitorous mouth. Nudging a disinterested Nanami, who pretends to read something on the ball. “Didn’t deny the girlfriend part. I think you owe me ten yen.”
You squawk, “You bet on us?”
“You bet only ten yen?” Gojo Satoru, equally as indignant, but for a completely different reason, waltzes off of the court as Coach Yaga approves his dribbling check and calls for the next. “Way to show your faith in me, bro.”
Geto grins, walking onto court, “Can you blame me?”
And you didn’t know what made you sigh more - the furious cheers and cat calls emanating from Gojo’s fans, who never failed to show up to a single practice, or the way he saunters right up to you.
Expensive sneakers squeaking on wood, carrying with him the scent of adrenaline and cherry bodywash. With such a devastating grin, he winks towards the audience - and you swear you see at least one in a replica of Gojo’s 06 jersey faint.
“Y’know, I think our lessons are working, beautiful.” Snickering at your surprised gasp, “The aura of…experience, it’s working. Yaga told me I was on fire today, Sugu said I was glowing and asked me for my skincare routine. Hell, even Nanamin - Nanamin - didn’t recoil in disgust when he first saw me today, which, considering Nanamin, is the equivalent of getting a big kiss on the lips as hello.”
“I thought these were lessons just for your future reference?” You raise a brow in suspicion, one that makes him sweat.
“S-semantics. Hey, something’s working, isn’t it?” He waves a lengthy hand - and you can’t help but get struck by flashbacks to just a few days ago.
It’d only been about two weeks since your little deal - and you’d been taking it slow. Well, as slow as you could get when your first day was spent fisting his furiously needy cock.
A few kissing lessons here, maybe another handjob there. And Gojo was lapping it all up the exact same way he would when he was in the middle of a game, focus laser-sharp - and constantly locked on you. Only you.
“…Right.”
Your partner-in-stupidity opens his mouth- but just then Yaga barks—“Gojo Satoru. If you have enough time to flirt, throw some hoops before the Kyoto match.”
“Ay ay, captain.” With a slight roll of his eyes, he’s giving you one last glance over his shoulder. Mouthing—‘After. Practice.’ And your heart races as you manage to make out, ‘Locker.’
Throwing a wink just for you - and the basketball in his hands, right along with it. That dimple at the edge of his grin was dazzling, “This one’s for you, beautiful—!”
He shoots.
And he misses.
Geto misses too, too busy rolling on the floor cackling.
.
.
.
“M-mmm.” Gojo’s hiccuping, tone coming out ragged. And then he’s gasping- like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or sob at the tight feeling of your mouth. “Take it-”
You whimper, strugglin’ with the thick, reddened end of his cock bulging all the way near the back of your throat. Oh-so-swollen that it was swabbing into every nook and cranny inside of your maw without even trying.
Gojo was ruthless - he was mean.
Fucking into your mouth like this was the first taste of the pearly gates he’d ever gotten, and he’s writhing with each of your hollowed-out sucks.
Acting like he wasn’t damn-near spearing your mouth permanently open into a cute ‘oh!’ with his size. One hand clawing onto the crown of your sweaty scalp, the other letting go of his useless wet towel now.
You’d just barely seen all the members of your university’s basketball team filter out, before Gojo - freshly showered, already half-hard - had dragged you into their spacious locker room.
And it almost reminded him of that first night in the closet, back scraping against the metal of the locker. Pushing you in so close that he can almost feel the way your tastebuds flood with saliva, “Take it take it- t-take it-”
Rutting. Grinding.
Your nails claw red, red lines down the pale expanse of his thighs, each muscle getting newly-decorated by you. “M-mmpf, Satoru.” Nostrils flaring, you feel his plump mushroom tip slip deeper past your throat the moment you relax.
“Fuck- fuck yeah, say my name.” He’s spitting through grit canines, “Say my name like that- s’better than any fanchant I’ve heard.”
Gojo always became so honest any time he was bending to your every whim like this.
And right now he couldn’t stop prattling away between each heavy groan, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of his weighty girth sagging on your tongue. “Bet they didn’t know you’d be on your knees like- ngh, this f’me, huh, beautiful?” He titters, giving you a thorough rut of his inches until you feel the globe of your friend’s tip scrape down your throat. “Fuh-fuuuuck.”
It was almost too much.
The scratch of your ridged taste buds, salivating down every sensitive ridge on his erection. The prettiness of your teary eyes peering up at him.
“Bet they didn’t know that- ngh, that sharp mouth would be shut up like this, huh?” Bucking. Thrusting- the heat of your mouth was just so heavenly that he can’t stop chasing it.
Not stopping for a single second to let the clingy back end of your throat part from his cock. He sticks his pelvis up and probes deeply into a sinful lil’ spot at the back of your maw that you didn’t even think was possible.
Something hitches in his breath, snowy brows furrowing once he feels the dripping slope of your pussy gyrate up his calf. “That you’d like it so much.”
Again and again. Gojo’s repeatedly pushin’ in until he could feel the soft back of your mouth form a bruise in the exact circumference of his girthy tip. “Think ya like it even more than me, beautiful.”
“E-easy there, tiger. Lesson number number five is to pace yourself.” You’re trying to smoothen your tone - unsuccessful, of course, when he’d just been hitting your voicebox hoarse.
Sensually - slowly - he’s managing to regain a mere ounce of control in that sloppy cadence of his. Loooong, massaging drags that plunge the ruby-red crown of his girth, Gojo’s still making sure that your velvety tongue licks up every solid inch of him.
You plop your swollen lips specifically down on the flared line of his slit and suck. “And lesson number six is to just- hah- shut up and take it.”
“N-ngh, love when you’re mean to me.” He’s grinning, one hand snaking down to his meaty base. Soon enough, your pursed maw is being positively showered with a spray of his dewy precum.
A glittery gloss gluing all down your chin, you make sure to stick your lips along the prominent lines of his veins and smear-smear-smeeeear. All down the extra-tender spots of his shaft that makes Gojo shoot his free hand out to grab your throat with a labored whine.
“R-real fucking dangerous.” He’s spitting - literally, a wad of spit that aims straight onto your sizzling tongue and makes an even bigger mess.
Squeezing your neck, feeling the large cylindrical bulge that was reaching for your lungs.
He could feel himself move with each back n’ forth of his toned hips, tightening until that particularly bumpy outline was making him lose his mind. “You’re real fucking dangerous with this pretty throat n’ these- hngh- preeeetty lips.”
You’re mewling, tears welling up behind your eyes when Gojo’s using the restraint on your throat to pull you off of his cock ever-so-slightly. For a few sultry seconds, just to spew out a translucent polish of precum. “And this pretty- pretty gloss.” Milky beads decorate your lips, they’re dripping down the front of your chin and makes him flinch carnally. “H-heh, say it again, beautiful. Say it when you’re hck! like this?”
“Shut the fuck up, Satoru.” Muffled, through the press of his painfully hard cockhead sliding between your lips. Once. twice.
Thrice. “Nghhh- just like that.” The star player’s head falls back against the lockers with an echoing thud! when you start bobbing your head even faster. Syrupy precum welling up inside your mouth as if someone had just opened up a fountain. “Makes me s-so fucking hard.”
“Tight-” You manage out, gasping for air. Past all the animalistic ruts, past the squeeze of his lengthy fingers on your throat. And you can’t help but motion your pussy down and up the muscles of his leg, leaving a glittering trail of slick everywhere you go. “So- ngh-”
“So- so fucking—” Shit, Gojo cracks open one of his dazed blue eyes and can’t even finish his sentence at the pure sight of you.
Your eyes dazed, jaw stupidly unhinged. the entire lower half of your face glistening with all his bittersweet sap. Taking and taking each of his visceral ruts - you were absolutely ruined.
And he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful.
So much so that Gojo’s body moves before his mind, barely even stopping to think before unplugging his cock from the back of your throat with a filthy squelch–! Manhandling you into a standing position with only one arm, he has your back shoved against the lockers with the other.
“S-Satoru, what are you-”
Flipping up your skirt- plump, pinkish cocktip kissin’ the wet slope of your pussy. It’s the only thing Gojo needs to be creaming himself near-dry.
To plaster your jittery thighs together with the silky, white syrup of his cum, soaking your flimsy panties. Gojo’s sweaty bangs tickle the inside of your throat when he plops his face down on your shoulder and groans, “Fuck. F-fuck fuck fuck-”
And he isn’t just reaching his high- he’s trying to fuck you through it.
Trying to drill his aching hot cock between your legs, the fatness of his length keeps on pushing against your clothed cunt needily. “Y-y’know, I’m reeeally good with my hands, beautiful?”
“Y-you are–?” Your breath hitches, limbs starting to quiver weakly. Your entire spine zaps with eager pleasure as he’s lazily sliiiding aside your panties. “S’that lesson number seven?”
“Seven- eight- sixty-nine, heh, whatever.” Chuckling into your skin, you swear he’s tugging astray your panties and cumming once more just at the sight of your pretty, sopping panties.
Hips surgin’ forwards automatically to smear a line of seed between your plump folds, Gojo’s mouth drops. “Oh.” His forearm comes banging down on the locker beside your head to cage you in, “My first time c-cummin’ on a girl.”
His entire body’s wracking with shivers once he’s guiding up stripes of his meaty mushroom tip along your pussy. Uuuuup and down, stray hand pryin’ your sloppy folds apart to paint your cunt a syrupy white from the inside itself-
Slimy fingerpads pushing you all open to dollop out generous helpings of his cum - fuck, honestly he doesn’t know what feels better. Those electric bursts of his orgasm, or the feeling of your fluttering wet cunt as you take it. “And she’s so preeeetty.”
“Pretty–?”
It’s a fucking battle for Gojo to rip his half-lidded eyes away from your naked pussy, but when he does it’s to kiss your temple sweetly. “You’re pretty too, my girl- beautiful.”
Something in that gentle tremble of his voice makes your hands grip for purchase on the holed surface of the locker.
And you can only whisper, “Sh-shut up, Satoru.”
“Shit-” Nearly forgetting that the rotund, throbbing end of his shaft was still aligned with your cunt. Just one move and he’d be throwing away just about all his first times. You’d be all out of lessons.
Somewhere along the slight pang of disappointment at the thought, you feel his overstimulated length twitch—
Catching Gojo staring wildly at that one particular hand of his - the one that was stuffed between your messy legs and spreading your pussy so that he could splurge out his splotchy cum to the maximum.
“Oh.” Realization hits you like a truck. “N-no, Satoru, don’t-”
Before he sucks on his stained, white-topped fingertips like candy— moaning, the blur of his irises roll all the way back to the depths of his skull. “Yeah–” He’s noisily lapping up each ounce of your slick n’ his cum, like the utmost delicacy. “Yeah, m’learning a loooot from these lessons of yours, beautiful.”
“You’re filthy.” You sputter.
“You made me this way~” He leans in close for a kiss, and you can’t admit to yourself that you’d gotten slightly addicted to the taste of his mouth. The plush, cherry-tinged flavor of his lips, glossed with your filthy concoction from before. “Ya like the taste?”
You scoff instead of an answer, “Go shower.”
Pulling back with a mwah–! of lips-on-lips, he reaches for the puddle of his towel on the floor. “Wanna join?”
“In your dreams.”
“You have noooo idea.”
“Shush- before I end your lessons.”
Gojo laughs, loud and beaming. And you can’t help but smile to yourself, something bittersweet, making a hasty escape from the locker room before you stretched your luck too far.
If only you’d taken your time.
Because then you might have seen a lone, towering figure standing by the wall leading to the doorway. Hidden by the sharp corner, and his lengthy raven hair.
He watches as you waddle guilty away - as if leaving a crime scene - and Geto Suguru frowns.
.
.
.
“Alright- it’s time to lock it in.” Yaga’s gruff voice bellows through every corner of the locker room, “Play your game, play fair, prove you belong. This is D1 basketball and I expect each one of you to play like it. Show those Kyoto fuckers who we really are.”
As deep cheers rattle the atmosphere, Gojo finds his hands almost too shaky to knot his laces - too full of adrenaline, full of pride.
Full of the thought that maybe you might be here in the stands, watching. Maybe.
Beside him on the bench, Geto silently tightens his own sneakers. And Gojo can’t help but crack a smirk, “Why so quiet today, Suguru? Don’t tell me you’re nervous about fucking Kyoto.”
“No, not at all.” He responds simply.
And ‘simply’ would never be quite good enough for Gojo Satoru. Which is why he’s furrowing his twinkling eyes at the other man, “‘Nooo, not at all?’ Appropriate spaces for commas and all? Who are you- Nanamin?”
“Right.”
Gojo frowns, “You’re off today.”
“Are you sure that you’re not the one off?” Geto states, tense. Until he was registering what’d just slipped out of his mouth, immediately shooting into an upright stand.
“What do you-”
“Forget about it-”
“No.” But he can barely take a single step before the taller man’s honed reflexes make a swipe at Geto’s elbow. Stopping his teammate in his tracks, Gojo’s voice dips low in that serious, tight way it usually never did. “What do you mean.”
A statement, not a question.
And his best friend can barely stand to look at him, head tilted slightly to the side, as if giving into the concerned looks thrown their way. “I told you not to play with her heart.”
Seething, “What?”
“Satoru, when I said I’d support your feelings for her, it wasn’t to make a fucking fool out of yourself.” Shrugging off the hand, which gives way easily. “So many years, and this is how you make a move? She’s my friend first- and you’re treating her like some fucking game.”
“She-” He gasps, face burning. “She’s just teaching me lessons in-”
But Geto always was the quicker of the two - and the more stern. “How long did you expect this to go on, huh? When you’re all done with your ‘lessons’, then what?”
“I…I didn’t think-”
“Didn’t think that she might actually enjoy that nice restaurant downtown you’ve kept the pamphlet to since meeting her? Didn’t think that she might want to know that you’ve always kept extras of your jersey for her, her favorite flowers, her favorite movie, just in case?” Geto’s fists clench, “Didn’t think that it’s fucking stupid that you two aren’t together, yet? You deserve to be happy- but she does, too.”
Silence. Deafening, deafening silence.
“What are you doing, man?”
“It’s sex-”
“Stop fooling yourself.”
As he watches Geto’s disappearing back, Gojo wasn’t sure whether he wanted you watching him anymore.
But it still stung, just a little, when you weren’t.
Kyoto won that day. And Gojo Satoru has never faced a more devastating loss.
.
.
.
“-my hometown friend, don’t you dare flirt with her, Satoru–”
What was Geto saying again?
Ah, does it even matter? Gojo Satoru, freshly-titled ‘campus boyfriend’ after only a few hours on said campus, hadn’t heard a single word out of his high school best friend’s mouth after your name.
After you’d batted your lashes cutely and smiled his way–
Oh– blah, blah blah— He’s letting out an audible sigh as you begin speaking something or the other about your major, the usual for orientation day. Proper name, proper place, backstory stuff-
“-toru- Satoru–!” It’s only with a hearty smack on his shoulder that Geto manages to snap Gojo out of his daze, still staring at you from afar where you’d decided to talk to Shoko. And the black-haired man shifts his weary eyes between you n’ his other friend. “Oh no-”
“Suguru, I think I just found my wife-”
“Hell no.” Dramatically, he shakes the other’s shoulders as if desperately trying to jolt some sense into that basketball-addled mind of his. “Satoru, you’ve gotten about fifteen different phone numbers-”
Geto pauses as another fresh-faced student flounces up to the duo and gives them both two slips of paper with a number scrawled on, one that Geto’s immediately tearing up.
“-sixteen just today itself.” His dark brows furrow, as much as he loved his best friend, he knew the mind-numbing popularity that came with him, too. The reputation. “I don’t care if you’re a virgin who’s never held hands-” Ignoring Gojo’s protesting ‘hey!’ “-if you think I’m about to let you play any games with her heart then-”
“I wouldn’t even imagine it, Suguru. Really.” Leaning back in his chair, Gojo’s azure eyes stray to you - as they’ve always seemed to do since then. Second nature. And only a second before tearing them away, undeserving to have you notice. “There’s just…something.”
There’s a tone there that Geto couldn’t place.
Something tender. Something that makes his eyes light up like they did when he was about to nail a slam dunk.
“Something about her that makes me feel like I can win all the championships in the world.”
.
.
.
“O-oh my god, mm—” Your mouth hangs lewdly open, thighs trembling where they were thrown over the far end of your bed.
Gojo had himself nose-deep in your syrupy wet pussy and it still wasn’t enough for him- he was still clawing both hands onto your thighs and forcefully dragging you halfway down the silken sheets. “What has- hah! what has gotten into you, Satoru-”
For perhaps the first time in his life, he doesn’t have an answer.
Can’t even think of one.
Not when the long, slimy edge of Gojo’s tongue was dipping past your drenched panties and pushing them juuuust barely to the side. Darkening that pale blue shade with the wetness of his maw, he’s plastering his taste buds to the slope of your pussy and watching you squirm.
And it’d started right after you’d arrived home, wondering whether it was too late to text him about the match - only to find the man of your thoughts himself sat outside your front door.
Waiting for you.
Towering, he’d thumped his head down on your shoulder in silence.
That is, until you two had made your way inside-
“I-is this about not coming to your- ngh! game?” You’re wailing out a broken whimper, twitchy hands weaving between his ivory locks to try and steal a glimpse of his face. “Because Gakuganji held me back for a club thing and I’m sorry- fuck!”
Without a single warning, without even a speck of hesitation, your friend’s shovelling the inches of his tongue past your elastic entrance until that tight rim resists.
Until he’s keening into your puffy core at the tightness, until he’s usin’ a thumb to spread-spread-spreeeead your glittery pussylips apart even further. “Taught me- taught me lessons, didn’tcha, beautiful?”
Murmuring into your cunt, each syllable is ended off with a heavy lashing of his silver tongue.
Spat straight into your quivering hole, Gojo’s licking away primally. Each raw scratch of his wet muscle trying to push past your hole, trying to fuck you the way he’s been aching to for years. “Taught me ta kiss those pretty lips- now you’re teaching me a whole hah- other type of kissing.”
“N-ngh, oh my god- Satoru.” He was just filthy. Both his babbling, pussydrunk words and his motions.
It’s like he didn’t know where to stick his tongue to like adhesive - wanting anything and everything, all at once.
From the throbbing nub of your clit, to the weepy orifice of your cunt. Though, he was making sure to lap up every ounce of slick glistening out of you, like the sweetest honey.
You’re whimpering, begging for fucking mercy from the wide, glissading edge of his tongue. You grip the soft tufts of his hair and try to lift him slightly off for dear life. “Fuck- Lesson number eight is to s-slow down–!”
“Then m’gonna hafta fail.” He’s rasping out, starved.
Barely even breathing, whatever words escaping Gojo depart only reluctantly. Between each pant he’s forced to take by his screaming lungs, he’s unfastening his slobbery maw even wider to suck on your clit.
Thighs closing sensitively ‘round his clammy head- “You’re being sooo—” You think that might just deter him, but he’s only climbing further up from his position at the foot of the bed, on the ground.
Chasing your pussy no matter how much you were bucking. Feral.
“Mmm, think I like it better when you hngh- shut me up like this.” He’s blubbering through a greedy mouthful of your cunt, slick-glossed mouth pinching your clit.
You’re damn-near yelping as his plush, puckered lips start rollin’ side to side just to tease that nub like bubblegum. Your own thighs ache with the flesh-ridden press of his big, beefy biceps curling ‘round your thighs to push them even closer. “Can you even ngh- breathe?”
“Suffocate me.”
And he sounded dead-serious.
Throwing your trembling legs over two muscular shoulders, Gojo’s leering his handsome face impossibly closer.
Right up until the straight button of his nose bridge presses against your clit, and the front of his face smeeeears with a pathway of your pussy’s sweet, sweet juices.
“Don’t care.” Spitting, a great glittery glob that sticks just to the side of your outer pussy and makes it so much wetter for him to start dipping his wide tongue inside. “Don’t care don’t care don’t care- I don’t need air, I just need- hah! You.”
Lavishing your snug hole with so much attention, you can’t help but clench ‘round his grazing taste buds. Letting your entrance be tugged n’ snagged according to Gojo’s every whim.
Back and forth, back and forth.
Letting him spit on your pussy once more-
“And her.” Slimy, wet muscle flopped right now, he was running through each line he’d read online about this like a gameplay. Zig-zagging from your clit n’ back to jackhammer into your hole, “We’d made such a loooovely couple, wouldn’t we, beautiful?”
And you don’t even know who he’s talking to you - you or your poor, battered pussy.
But before you can ask, Gojo’s patience snaps with a rut-
“Fuck, your walls-” Just as soon as you’re clamping your thighs surrounding his head. He’s whining, he’s shoving his face in deeper like the prolonged length of his tongue could scour your channel even more.
Like that particular muscle could maze in a slithering up n’ down- Gojo’s sharp jawline strikes the base of your cunt and he groans in disappointment. Unable to dive in even deeper.
Feral. Thirsting, He’s nose-deep and still filling up your every orifice with his textured tongue for more, letting each ravenous taste bud stir about your sweet innards. “Your walls want me so ngh- badly. Wants ta suck me up so badly- look.”
“What do you- oh!” You flinch at the sudden warmth of another puddle of saliva striking your pussy dead-on, smearing about.
Gojo’s eyes were widened, mouth unfastened as far as it would go. “How the fuck doesn’t anyone get addicted?” Genuinely serious. Genuinely asking.
“Y-you’re too much-”
“Oh, you want more?” Wait…what? You’re momentarily speechless at how his melty mind had just understood your sentence. Mouth thrashing about on overdrive, grin sleazy. “Heh, I’ve always wanted to do this.”
And then you’re snapping your head down in a split-second, just in time to see two of Gojo’s lengthy, roughened fingers tease the crevice of your slit.
All lightly calloused by basketball, he’s sloooowly circling your puckered hole. “Cute, s’like she wants ta- ngh- kiss me.” He’s giggling, prying apart your folds to ease his way in with a raw, noisy sluuuurp–! “Hope she doesn’t mind how looong they are- or do. My lesson number one is that you’re going to take it all.”
Bucking into his touch, and that makes him copy you - crushing the thick, bulging outline of his erection against the bottom of your bedframe.
So hard that the mahogany panels creak– jostling you, right alongside the bed. “Fuck-” He hisses, looking down. “Look how you’ve got me - like a fucking animal.”
“You’re so filthy…”
“S’all your fault.”
You’re sobbing now, legs twitching cutely on top of Gojo’s deltoid after every time his knobbled fingerpads scraped a spot that was particularly sensitive.
His size- oh, you should’ve expected a size to match a basketballer’s hands - because they’re plugging every nook n’ cranny without even trying. Scissoring your gooey walls far apart to claim each hidden area of yours, “All- all your fault.”
Almost whimpering because it’s just that tight. He’s swervin’ rapidly and surely. “You made me like this-” But he wasn’t done- he was leaning over to spit a web of spit once more, dampening your soft cunt just enough to bully in a third finger. “Made me so stupid.”
Barreling straight into your g-spot.
“Foooound it…”
“Oh- oh my god–” You’re losing your mind at this point, hips thrashing about. The blankets stick to you like they’re made of adhesive as you’re arching into the perfect curvature-
“Stay down.” Gojo barks - a stern edge to his voice. And before you can make a single move, he has one bicep pinning down your hips, maw opened to suck on your clit so you stay down.
Left too weak to do anything but cry out at the feeling of his tastebuds rolling over n’ over on your nub. Sensitive. Overstimulated.
You’re gasping at the heated sparks of white that burst behind your lids, “Toru- I th-think m’close- don’t think m’gonna last- hck!”
“Told you I was good with my hands—” He slurs out, ruined on your pussy. "That's lesson number hck! three- maybe two? Ah, I dunno…”
Pump after pump, Gojo curls his digits so they bruise right into the spot locating your bundle of nerves. Feelin’ your soft walls clamp down sappily, “Only thing I do know is that I want you- hah-” Pulling back, he teeths your clit with a sinful squelch. “-oh, I wan’ you cumming on my mouth.” Fingering you so hard that the mountains of his knuckles were reddening with impact. “And I want you screamin’ my name every second of it.”
“Oh please-” The roughness of his fingertips are starting to plunge even deeper, as if Gojo was ready to probe into your womb right then and there. “Satoru-”
“Call me ‘Toru’, beautiful-”
“Toru-”
“Louder.”
Harder.
It was so hard to speak with tiny sobs catching in your throat, with your body being run ragged by him. Lips wobbling with each long push of his digits- “Toru.”
“How about- ‘my Toru’?”
“My- my Toru—!” You’re squealing; the exact same moment that your pitched voice cracks, your sanity does, too.
And in mere sultry nanoseconds, you’re shattering into white-hot explosions of bliss. Your orgasm sweeping your entire body with goosebumps, you can only scratch carnally at Gojo’s crowned scalp.
Your fingers maneuvering his head up and down in sloppy gyrations, it’s as if you were riding his pretty features through each peak of euphoria. “M’cumming- oh-” Your high hitting you so hard that tears pinprick at your pupils, and Gojo was only happy to make them overspill. To dangle his hefty tongue out so that he can lap up your cunt with every drag. “Can’t believe you- oh. Are you sure this is your first time, Toru?”
He finches at the nickname, “Fuck yeah, sweet thing.”
Brushing his tastebuds up and down- probing against your clit.
He was still ravenous.
Even when you’re blinking back your vision, though, you still couldn’t see with the way that Gojo’s velvety mouth made your pupils criss-cross constantly.
Toes curling, limbs shaking with sensitivity.
It was getting to the point that your mind was slowly going blank, spittle falling from your mouth. “I-I’m hngh- m’high’s over-” Still sparking somewhere at the back of your throat, even though you push and push at Gojo’s forehead, he’s only digging deeper. “Oh my god, Satoru-”
He blubbers, “M’fucking starved, beautiful. Been wanting this for sooo long.”
“Then shut up and fuck me.”
Oh.
Oh, that did it.
Because Gojo lurches his head up as if he’d just been zapped with electricity; eyes snapped open, strings of slick still connecting his lips to your swollen ones.
“F-fuck you…?” He grunts- buying more time, those buried fingers of his pull out from your walls with a slurp. Finding their usual pathway between his greedy lips, he catches your look. “What? Haven’t I ever told you that you make me so–”
Thoroughly cleansed by now, Gojo smacks his lips with satisfaction.
“-greedy?”
The dark glint in Gojo’s eyes makes you squirm your body slightly backwards- all the way up until you hit the headboard with a gasp. And he only looms closer. Only prowls up to you like he was closing in on the most appetizing prey.
And now that he’d gotten one taste of you, of course he’d be craving more.
Like you were the sweetest of desserts, he’s gliding his tongue allll down those slick-glossed lips of his. Your juices worn halfway down his face - smearing up to his cheekbones - with utter pride. “And I think m’ready for another lesson now.”
You take one look at him - pupils glassy, face glistening, ears flushed - and immediately dart your hands down to Gojo’s belt buckle.
Meanwhile he’s shedding himself free of his t-shirt, whatever’s left of your bra, hooking over your panties—
RIIIIIP—!
“Th-those were expensive.”
“I’ll buy you fucking ten more.” Pointedly, Gojo stuffs the ruined fabric into the back pocket of his trousers before disposing of them somewhere by the side of your bed. “Then tear those off, too, next time.”
Next time.
“Excited ‘bout a ‘next time’?” Oh- fuck, you’d just babbled that out loud.
He couldn’t have looked more smug if he tried, pointed canines flashing in a smirk. His thick thumb dips into the hemline of his boxers, pulling them down in a flash.
And Gojo was hard - so fucking rock-hard that his upright erection smacks the front of his abs with a thwack!
Long. Perfectly thick. Always just so pretty. Bedazzled by a few veins down his pinkish shaft, Gojo’s sensitive cock twitches as he’s panting. Ruby-red tip painting a horizontal line of precum, you’re mentally calculating the measurement and wondering just how deep he’d be inside of you.
Swatting away your sheeny thighs, that’d just started to close. “Ah ah- where’d you think you’re taking her?” Before his glossy, sleek jaw unhinges ever-so-slightly in wait.
“You want me to-”
“I’ve spit on her so many times.” Gojo muses, quirking one snowy brow. Holding you by the throat, he pushes his face into your personal proximity, “Think s’time for you to return the favor.”
Whimpering, restless, it was just so cute to him how you’re pressing your lips together shyly.
Whacking a bead of slobber precisely onto the target of his tongue- and Gojo barely even gives you the time to register your little ministration before surging his entire body and kissing you. Open-mouthed, heated.
At the exact same time that his globed, weeping cock pushes straight past your swollen folds.
But it wasn’t so easy- “F-fuck.” Gojo shutters his eyes, expression looking like he was just in prayer. Hiccuping, rutting- back and forth in rapid half-thrusts as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of your pussy any further. “What the fuck…what-”
“S-Satoru, are you okay?”
“No.” SMACK! He’s trying to strike his pelvis against your own so hard that your thighs are jostled. Fat cock stuck by the resistance of your cute, cute cunt. “No no no- s’just…I lost my virginity to you.”
You’re speechless as he looks up at you with a giggle.
Repeating, “I just lost my virginity to you and it’s too- good.”
“And you’re t-too big—” You claw all down his pale back, feeling every muscle flex underneath your touch.
“Remember my first lesson?” Head tilted, the smile on Gojo’s face was oh-so-tender - even though his mushroom tip was furiously pumping in and out of you like anything but. “You’re going to- take it- all.”
Fuck, but he didn’t know who he was torturing more.
Because your cunt gives way to swallow up one more of his solid, rovering inches - just past the slick line of his slit - and Gojo hunches over. He heaves. His vision blurs with tears- “Ohhh my god, I c-can’t.” Voice octaves higher, breaking. He’d just started to put it in and he was crying.
Shit, he’d learned nothing.
With a hand pushing your left thigh open, Gojo’s trying to pull his ravaged cock out. Just too good for him to handle. Maybe he’ll keep some part of his sanity intact if he fucks you with just the tip-
But in that instant, your clingy insides are squeezing around him so tight and he’s thrusting.
Out-of-control.
Fighting against the stretch, you’re clawing for the headboard above your scalp- “Oh my god- I don’t know if I can- fuck! It’s just so big.” Nine - nearly ten - inches throbbing at the mere sound of your voice.
“Lesson number one lesson number one- oh, lesson number one-” Echoing like a broken record-player, he’s ruthlessly haaaauling you back with a hand latched onto your hip.
Soft grunts wafting your features like a furnace, “Breathe” Gojo begs into your ajar mouth, pinning you with the prominent muscles of his v-line. “Breathe- one- two-” With each stroke. “Breathe with me-”
Those exact same exercises that he’s taught himself over and over again during the toughest of training regiments. “Feel it in your s-stomach.” You’re nearly screaming as one of his over-large palms come pressing down on your stomach, making you feel like he’s spearing his plump tip all the way into your lungs. “Then let it allll out through your lungs- breathe w’me, one, two.”
One-two. In and out. One-two. In and out.
Mewling, “One- t-two.” Mindless hips swervin’ back and forth to meet his desperate drilling and it makes him gasp.
“Breathe- breathe. Lesson one, you hafta take this-” Scrambling for your hips, for your throat. “Even just the tip. Just an inch.” Using the leverage to pull you down, “I’m begging here.”
“T-Toruuu–”
And it’s with a final, resounding spank of skin-on-skin that he’s managing to bottom out.
The hot, pulsating feeling of his sheathed cunt barely even registering in your mind before Gojo’s letting off a wet sob. It just felt too good. “You passed with f-flying colors, my beautiful.”
And now that he’d gotten started, he couldn’t stop.
Gojo was pounding you into your cheap bedsprings like a madman, like it was painful for his swollen, vein-covered cock to go even a second without dragging down your walls. Designing your slick insides with the patterns of his veins, “How are you reachin’ a-alll those spots, Toru?”
“Alllll those spots, huh?” Mockingly, he ends up pushing down on your tummy just like before.
Except this time, Gojo takes the lecherous time to feel the dull thud! of his split-ended tip poking into your cervix. This time, he can follow each single inch you’re clenching ‘round—“Wh-what is…”
Pushing down harder. “Is that my-” Thrusting even harder.
Gojo’s size is just so staggering that he’s feeling the exact bumpy outline of his mazing shaft. The way he was spreadin’ apart your walls with his circumference - it just renders his mouth watering.
Gracing you with a dopey grin, one that had drool spilling from one side of his rosy lips. Moaning, “Oh, just when I thought you couldn’t be more perfect.”
Sweet-talker. You whine, just so you won’t pay too much attention to the way your heart races, “Shut up, Toru.”
“Yeahhh- say that again.” Bulky base just drenching with your sweet slick the harder he’s thrusting in, you can feel his rock-hard tip twitch after your words. “S’like you’re made f’me.”
“Shut up, Toru-”
Palm massaging down on the tummy bulge he was fucking into you, he could feel each flinch of his oversensitive cock. “See? See? The way this pretty pussy takes ngh- all of me. The way you make me react-” Pumpin’ a thorough push against your slick-filled sweet spots. “The way you make me s-sooo fucking hard. Ohhh, we fucking fit like a- a…”
Poor chatterbox Gojo Satoru is just so pussydrunk by now that he can’t even go on.
He can’t even speak. Can’t even breathe— entire fuzzy brain honed in on spearheading your walls with his flared cockhead like a flashlight.
Hips gyrating into the exact angle that it takes for him to strike your needy, waiting g-spot. Hard.
“There-” Your heart-shaped peripherals sprint to the back of your head, back jerking off of the mattress. “Right- ngh- there–!”
And, usually, Gojo would’ve taken this as the perfect opportunity to brag about how it was ‘so easy’ for him to find the almost-mythical g-spot. Usually, he’d have been snickering outright at the cutely awed expression on your face.
Usually.
But the only thing he was fucking capable of doing right now was marvel at both you and your pussy. Gaze darting up and down so fast it was almost like a blur.
“Cat- hah, pussy got your tongue, Toru?”
“Sh-shut up…”
“You shut up.”
Shit, that makes him nearly cum. Right then and there.
And to cover up this little weakness, Gojo spanks your overstuffed pussy instead. Open-palmed, with the doughy tips of his digits striking accurately on your clit.
“Y-you little- ngh.”
“What was that–?” Oh, it was like he’d just stumbled across an epiphany. And before you know it, he plants down three more rude smacks on the slope of your cunt; exactly in sensual unison with the thrashes of his cock. “Why don’tcha write my name on your clit, beautiful? Unless…”
SMACK–!
You get the message fast enough, even despite your thoughtless mind.
Your twitchy dominant hand slithers between your thighs, thumbing down your perky clit just in that way you liked. “T-Toru–” Trying for all your might to spell a ‘T’, “Oh- wait, Satoru.”
Then an ‘S.’
But you couldn’t do it just how his big fingers had managed to do, and the only thing you’re getting out is a sultry figure-eight. One that renders your throat dry, “Satoru- oh.” An ‘A’ that looks more like a silly lil’ ‘V’, “I can’t ngh- don’t think I can- fuck.”
And Gojo notices your little struggle - of course, he’s noticing.
It’s the sweetest little entertainment for him, of course, watchin’ you get fucked too dumb to spell out his own name on your clit. Your lips wobbling when he finally smacks your hands away-
“Honestly- aren’t you supposed to t-teach me?” Groaning at the squelching noise of your growing even more aroused. “Watch and learn, my girl- fuck. My beautiful.”
But it’s not like he was any better, thank fuck you were too gone at this point to realize. Just as much as he was.
It takes Gojo a few slips n’ slides to latch his plush thumb down on the nub of your clit, “F-first there’s a ‘T’- I mean, an ‘S.’” The dual stimulation of his shaft stretchin’ out your tiniest ridges inside, of his fingerpads writing on your clit, was simply incredible. “Then an ‘A’...‘T’...”
Even through the lust-fogged haze in your mind, you could distinctly make out the messy scribbles of Gojo’s fingerpads.
S-A-T-O-R-U
Repeated. Over and over until it was like that pattern was burned onto your clit, joints working manually faster. Faster.
S-A-T-O-R-U
S-A-T-O-R-U
S-A-T-O-R-U
And it’s so much that you don’t even realize you’re shrilling out his name with each movement- “Satoru-” Thighs kicking in pleasure, he’s quickly throwing them over his shoulder and folding you in half. Bending you into a mating press. “Satoru- Satoru Satoru—”
You feel a slimy, wet tendril gleam down your cheek, “Why’re you crying?” Gojo’s licking up salty tears you didn’t even realize you were setting free. “S’not because of my hck! biiiig fuckin’ cock, is it?”
In this mating press, your friend(?) had the freedom to plaster his washboard abs down your front. To scratch your pelvis with his pale white happy trail.
“S’not because I’ve wanted to do this for- for aaages, is it?” Nuzzling the crook of your neck, Gojo gives you a slam so hard that you’re being driven further up the bed.
Only for him to pull you back down. To do it over again.
And over and over and over again until the spongy layer of your cervix had memorized the size of his cervix. Stretching open your cozy lil’ walls, he pricks his strawberry divot firmly against the base of your womb like he was meant to be there. “Not because I’ve always wanted to- to break myself on this pretty pussy-”
Roughly, the wooden frame of your headboard rattles-
“O-oh-” Gojo slams his hand down on the banging headboard, remembering something from the earlier lessons about a landlord.
Only for the mahogany panel to shatter, for your creaky bed to sag on one side– your eyes widen. Gojo Satoru had just broken the bed but he was still going.
He was still claiming your cunt with each sultry jackhammer, still babbling pussydrunkenly. “S’not because you’re haaaah- close, is it?”
“I am–” You don’t have half the mind to be shocked that he could feel your oncoming high before you. Walls clamping down with each vibration of electric euphoria, “M’gonna cum, Satoru. Lesson number nine is to make- me- cum-”
“You’re gonna cum.” More statement than question. “Really, really gonna cum? Because of ngh- me?”
You can only nod.
And Gojo’s voice is small, cracking. “She’s gonna- fuck! gonna on my cock?” Furiously nodding, “My cock? Because of- oh- me? Fuck–!”
You’re barely even getting out an affirmation for those last few rapidfire questions of this before Gojo’s tense, driving cock explodes. All into thick, gushing ropes of cum that slather your walls.
And if you thought he’d cum in massive volumes before, then you weren’t ready to be faced with how eager he was to fill up your pussy.
Your geysering slick was nothing in comparison to the way Gojo was buttering up your slitted entrance, cobwebbing your tight hole shut with his sticky cum. Again. And again and again he was pumping each drop into you.
“L-lesson number two-” But it was not like he would let you get off the hook that easy. And the flesh of your inner thighs sting when Gojo only speeds up, accelerating his shaft to target your g-spot in a way that makes you keen. “-n-never cum after me. Only before-”
Two roughened crowns of his fingers tweak your clit– a final, ‘Y’ And you’re wondering what the hell that stands for.
Y-O-U-R-S
Gojo flushes as he finishes off the singular word, like he almost couldn’t believe it himself. Before pinching on your clit—“Sh-shit- shit shit shit, m’cumming, Toru.”
Right now, watching your cunt quiver n’ cum around his cock was better than anything he could’ve ever dreamed of.
Because your mouth was possessive, crashing into his and whining his name with each twinge of your high. Your pretty eyes were practically mosaics of tears at this point, ones he could stare into for eons.
And he does - straight into your irises when Gojo’s filling you up from the inside out. “I know-” Feeling his own seed slosh out of him and drip straight down to your womb. “Take it- take it, all inside like it- hah- should be. Like it was always meant to be.”
“Inside-” Gasping at the press of his tensed core, pushing down on your stomach. Right where he was spearing straight through you, “A-all inside, Toru.”
It was one of the best orgasms of your life, and, strangely enough, all of them seemed to have been pulled out by Gojo.
Who was filling you up until you were overspilling, like some fountain.
Now purposefully slapping the veiny length of his shaft against the roof of your cunt, pounding you through each volt of pleasure until you’re seeing stars.
Until your thighs are left shaking stupidly, your mouth gaped, brain so filled with the static of your stomach being in knots that you don’t even register the damp splat-splat-spat–! splashing onto your shoulder.
Something…wet.
At least, not for a few seconds until your eyesight can adjust. You’re blinking back your vision to look up and see that Gojo Satoru was crying.
Pretty cheeks ruddied, eyes glistening with even more unshed tears. And you wonder just how long he’d been holding them back.
His perspired head drops down to your shoulder like it had hours prior in front of your door, and you can make out the unsteady gasps of his words. “You- you took my virginity but…” Something raw. Something honest. “I-I just…”
He bites back his words until you’re forced to pull him away from the crook of your neck. Pushing back sweaty, ivory bangs until Gojo can look at you properly.
Look you right in the eye when he utters—“I’ve always wanted to be yours, too.”
Your heart leaps to your throat, and so do those words that have always, always been on the tip of your tongue. “You already are, Toru.”
Something escapes from his lips - maybe a sob, maybe a laugh. But it’s a sound that makes you beam back, though, you think you’d never be able to match the sunlight in Gojo’s smile. Instead, you take the time to memorize the crinkle of his eyes, the wink of that lil’ dimple of his.
“My lesson number three is I love you, my girl.” ‘My girl’, he can finally say it now.
He can finally watch your slightly surprised reaction as you hear it, kiss-bitten lips twitching upwards into a grin. “My lesson number ten is I love you, too.”
Heart shaking, body fully shivering at the music of those words dropping from your lips. “You- you don’t know how fucking long I’ve waited to hear those words.” He nuzzles his nose against yours, still smelling of that same cherry bodywash and utter fuckin’ love. “How fucking long I’d wait just to hear it again.”
“I have a feeling you won’t have to wait long at all, Toru.” You’re combing your fingers through his angelic hair, head turning to the side with a giggle once he starts pecking your face. Your jaw. Your neck. Over and over and over–
Only for the moment to be broken when you gasp, “Satoru.” Gojo follows your beeline of sight, straight to the top of your bedside dresser. Right where it was proudly displaying a familiar black and gold box, one with a glaring ‘XL’. “We forgot about lesson number one.”
.
.
.
You think you’d never get used to wearing Gojo’s famous 06 jersey.
An original, of course - one that’d been safely tucked away in the back of his closet, that he absolutely refused to tell you how long he’d kept ‘just in case’ for you.
It drew stares, though, you think part of that came from being at the very front row to the final NCAA championship game. Your eyes follow each slide of pristine sneakers, each cut-throat pass, each swat of the basketball hitting the polished court.
Tokyo vs. Curses; it was a tie.
And right now, you didn’t care about the gaggles of numerous fans gossiping behind your back, or the way Coach Yaga kept yelling at Gojo about showing off for you - and the fact that he was telling your boyfriend to do more of it.
To leave no mercy once Geto’s passing to him, to sprint faster with only two seconds left on the clock, to slam dunk the basketball straight through the hoop—
And that’s exactly what he does.
A buzzer rings, and suddenly you can’t even see Gojo’s figure through the heaps of confetti bursting from the arena. In blue and white for Tokyo Jujutsu University.
Tentatively, as you’re spotting family and coaches rush onto the court, you’re taking a step. Just a single one - but Gojo always did say he could find you amongst a thousand crowds.
Heart leading him to you.
As the confetti and streamers phase just a little, you spot him rip out of his team hug with a call of your name. Being dragged back as MVP, Geto pauses to dap his best friend up - before thumping him on the back and letting him tear through the throng of people to get to you.
“Excuse me- excuse-” Maneuvering nimbly with his towering figure, “Beautiful–!” He’s calling out, loud enough to turn heads. But Gojo doesn’t care, he doesn’t give a fuck. Not when he’s crashing into your arms, and murmuring into your lips. Such a loving kiss. “Beautiful.”
His grin was contagious, and somewhere in the distance you can hear his team jeer. Hell, even Yaga seems to chuckle from somewhere. “Congratulations on the slam dunk, Toru.”
“It was always for you, my girl.”
A/N. FAWK- the things I would do to have him. Can you tell I’m ovulating because I made him whimper?
Synopsis. The best way to beat your tall, nerdy, hot academic rival during finals? Fúck him!
Pairing. Gojo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, nerd!Gojo, academic-rivals-to-Iovers, first times (Gojo), unprotected, hándjobs, semi-public (library), exhíbitíonism, he goes FÉRAL, coming back for more, slight switch!Gojo, face-sítting (fem rec.), 69, PÚSSYDRÚNK Gojo, size kínk, he’s BIG, rough s, running from it, creampíes, making him cúm dry, cúmplay, toys, punk!Geto cameo, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 11.2k
A/N. Happy Vesak to anyone that celebrates!!
“That jerkwad got 0.4% higher than me again, Suguru.” You’re fighting the urge to wallow your face on top of the café’s cluttered table, instead shaking a weary Geto Suguru by his broad shoulders. “Again! I’ll never make the top of Yaga’s Dean’s List now.”
Geto wonders whether this would be a good time to slip away- no. He shudders, thinking about the way said ‘jerkwad’ was probably skulking around, looking to lament about the very same thing.
Honestly, if this was a romcom it would be almost cute. Almost.
“Gojo’s just too- too smart.” You’re rubbing your aching temples, as if the words pained you to utter. “And infuriating, of course. And cocky and a try-hard and-”
“Honestly, you two should just duke things out in the bedroom.” He takes a looong sip of his milkshake, letting the silence drag on as you gape.
“Suguru that’s…” Bracing himself for yet another monologue on your supposed rival. Damn valedictorians- finals season was getting to you. “-that’s genius.”
He frowns.
Okay, finals season was really getting to you.
Taking a confused second to check his drink - strawberry milkshake, low sugar, as usual - he concludes that he definitely wasn’t spiked in any way and was definitely hearing you wrong. Of course, an understandable mistake. And so he’s clearing his gruff throat, “…what the fuck?”
Your long-time friend watches from across the table as you nod your head, a satisfied sort of smile plastering across your face - the very same one you often bore whenever you beat Gojo on a test, or a quiz, or a group project.
Or anything, really.
“That’s exactly it- I should fuck him.”
Yeah, he sets down the cup he was holding, he was definitely spiked. Or, maybe he was dead and this was his own personal hell.
“Ooookay, that’s enough all-nighters.” Geto’s plastering one of his ringed hands across your forehead, searching for a high temperature. “How about we get you to Shoko for some examination-”
“No no, listen.”
“I’m scared.”
Swatting away his well-meaning palms, you’re leaning towards him, so close that your lips waft the silver piercings decorating his ear. “If I fuck him—” Geto shivers, one of his ripped arms settling on top of the table in conspiring unison. “-he won’t have time to study. And if he doesn’t have time to study…”
The snake bites lining his rosy lips glint as they formulate a smirk, sleazy. “Oh, you dirty girl.”
DING-DING–!
And it’s as if the universe was having a good laugh at your expense.
Because right at that very moment, the cute lil’ bell on top of the café doorway sings as it swings open - and with it, ducks inside Gojo Satoru.
In all his refined, cranky glory - wiry-framed glasses nestled high on his nosebridge, strong, sweater-covered arms straining with the weight of damn near half the library stacked in a column, snowy bangs doing very little to hide the withering glare he was immediately firing your way.
The spitting image of the other valedictorian you’d been fighting both tooth and nail against since the start of freshman year.
You remember how it all started like it was just yesterday; you’d been sitting eagerly at the very front row of Professor Gakuganji’s lecture hall. Your sheer buzzing energy only matched by the white-haired boy seated next to you - perhaps a kindred spirit, maybe you’d even become friends, you naively thought.
That is, until Gakuganji had asked for a volunteer to start off ice-breakers that the both of you had shot up in your seat. Racing to be first.
Faces snapping to each other in shock, mouths tightening. An invisible war - which had, very famously, turned into a palpable war over the last few semesters. One that you’re sure nearly every student on campus had heard about (and bet on, you remember Shoko tittering about some betting pool.)
It didn’t help that you two had practically the same classes each year - and it really didn’t help that Gojo put all he had into one-upping you any time since that fateful meeting.
Always clamoring out of his seat to answer questions first, always trailing after teachers if he caught you sucking up to them, too, always checking out the same books after you did.
Hell, at one point you’d been convinced that he genuinely lived in the library.
“You’re staring~” Geto sing-songs, resting his grinning face on one hand as he watches the bee-line of your eyesight.
“Ugh- I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Flashing, cerulean eyes narrow as you rip your own gaze away, and Gojo’s sauntering over to a cosy seat near the back with an audible ‘hmpf!’
Bastard- that was your second-favorite seat. You should sit there next time…
“Look at him.” You’re spitting, feeling only slightly ridiculous at the raw vitriol in that sentence until Gojo physically turns around in his chair to flip you off. Haughtily, he swivels back to shift through his countless textbooks, surely studying for the upcoming final exam in a few days. “Bet he cuddles those books to sleep and that’s how he beat me today.”
Rays of sunlight dappling his pale hair, the straps of his backpack make his shoulder muscles ripple. For a nerd, he sure did take care to make everyone on campus secretly swoon.
…except for you, of course.
Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes - more to tear them away from the way that Gojo’s glasses made his eyes twinkle in the daytime.
“Not for long. Mark my words, Suguru, I’ll fuck him-” Murmuring, you pointedly ignore the gawking looks from the customers surrounding your table. “-I’ll fuck his brains out.”
Eyelids twitching slightly, Geto makes sure to graciously bow his head in an apology towards the older lady seated at the beside you two - clutching her chest as if she was about to have a cardiac arrest. “And you realize that by fucking him…he fucks you, too?”
“Oh.” Honestly, for someone so smart you could be so stupid sometimes. You ignore the heat that runs through your veins at the notion, and stuff your face into your long-cold coffee. Sputtering, “I-It’ll be fine.”
Famous last words.
.
.
.
“A-are you following me or just obsessed?”
“Nothing to be obsessed about here.”
“Then why are you following-”
“Maybe you’re following me, bast- I mean, Gojo.”
BANG!
And Gojo really should’ve been worried about ruining his squeaky-clean record with the campus librarian, slamming a few thickset books down on his usual studying spot was very unlike her model helper, of course.
But right now he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Not when you - campus princess, top pick for valedictorian, pain-in-his-ass - were face-to-face with him and standing the closest you ever had amidst that time you’d sat together on your first day.
And calling him by his name.
Jaw clenched, he steps towards his familiar chair by the shadowed corner - and you do, too.
Long legs maneuvering to claim his seat - and you do, too, right next to him.
Pushing his glasses-clad face into the first textbook he picks up, he doesn’t even notice that it’s upside down - not until you’re tapping your finger on the gilded corner of it and Gojo flinches. “You’re reading that the wrong way, y’know?”
“…it’s a form of studying.”
“I’m sure.”
“And- and what are you doing? Miss valedictorian has given up on being valedictorian so she’s here to bother me?” He seethes, finally taking a good look at you since you’d randomly ambushed him on his daily trip to the library. Tracking him around like a lost puppy and oh- oh, Gojo almost regrets it.
Because he might wear glasses, but he wasn’t blind.
Fuck, did you really have to wear a cutesy top so low-cut? And a skirt so tight, he hated how your thighs were so pretty - ones he’d only seen in his imagination- nightmares. His nightmares, for sure.
It’s no wonder that half the student body in your department would kill to be in this position, and the other half would kill him for daring to sit his gloomy, unpopular self next to you.
Gojo gulps as he inadvertently memorizes the lacy black shade of your bra strap, barely catching onto your humming response.
“Studying.” You casually raise your own book, something related to the content covered on the test tomorrow, surely.
“B-but- here-”
“And here I was under the impression that the library was public to all.” You’re cutting off his rambling by creeping an inch forwards. So close that you’re wafted with a cloud of his homey, ink n’ vanilla scent. Purring, “Is it not?”
“No! I know you- you just wanna steal my super secret Satoru studying tips.” He points at you, accusatorial.
Scoffing- why did you want to subject yourself to this nonsense again? Oh, right, that coveted spot at the forefront of Yaga’s Dean’s List, that’s why. “‘Studying tips’ my ass, you’re just scared I’ll beat you on the exam tomorrow.”
“You couldn’t beat me if Yaga stripped naked and danced with the answers in front of you.”
“Hmm–” You pretend to take down notes, “So is that what you think about before a final?”
“N-no- even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
Raising a brow, “Right…” And by the way that Gojo trembled at your tone of voice, shifting his glasses higher into his unruly bangs, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. “Because you’re scared.”
“Am not.”
“Am too.”
“Am not-”
“Am too. It’s alright, scaredy-cat-” You’re making a big show of letting the library chair screeeech against the polished hardwood floors as you stand up, fingers itching for your bag. “-I’ll just take my leave then, since you’re so sca-”
“Sit.”
And it wasn’t a plea, it wasn’t even a request.
Gojo had his warm, engulfing palm surrounding your wrist and all but dragging you back to sit back down with an unceremonious plop!
Hard and rough.
Before you’d even registered it - before you’d finished blinking - in an instant, he was back to his normally grouchy self. Grimacing face darted back between his pages, hulking body hunched low as he washed himself of the memory of your (unfairly) pretty self seated right next to him.
This was all a bad dream, he repeated to himself, as if a mantra. But then why was he feeling so…hot? Maybe this was one of those annoying side quests in video games- if he doesn’t interact, he won’t react.
Yeah, that sounded about right. He just won’t interact.
He will not–
“Your pen’s too loud.”
“Your breathing’s too loud.”
“So you want me to die-”
“Yes, please.” You’re sniping back on autopilot, your exceptionally silent pen scribbling along one of your flashcards. This really wasn’t how you saw your masterplan going - but it was too late to back out now. If there was anything that was revealed during this lengthy rivalry, it was that you weren’t a quitter. Huffing, “Do you always talk so much when you study?”
“Oh- I’m sorry, princess, want me to kiss your feet while I’m at it?”
“Didn’t think you were one for a foot fetish.”
“H-huh? No! What are you-”
And that slight waver in his voice makes you pause- it makes you snap your head up, just in time to catch the scorching red blush breezing down the back of Gojo’s neck. Visibly peeking through the edge of his creamy vest even as he buries his face into his upside-down book.
“Awww- what’s that?” Snickering, you take your chance to nudge your chair closer to his. Teasing. Until thighs met shaky thighs, shoulders bumped sculptured shoulders, and your syrupy breath made the tips of his ears flush. Voice low, “Can’t handle a lil’ sex talk, Satoru?”
Saying his first name- fuck!
He’s slamming his left arm where the heat of your sighs had burned his sensitive earlobe, grumpy baritone cracking– “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Are you a virgin?” You blink, your scheme giving way to genuine curiosity.
The way that Gojo’s mouth gapes is more than enough of an answer to you. Glasses slipping down his clammy skin, meaty legs shivering as you experimentally brush your palm to feel the flex of his outer thigh. He was…chiseled.
Blinking, “Really? Not even a handjob?”
And fuck- were you glad that he’d chosen a slightly distant corner of the library.
Because your hands might be rovering sensually underneath the table, but the tightness in Gojo’s slacks was obvious.
And it’s not that you spent a lot of time thinking about how big your mortal enemy might be underneath all his formal, upright outfits - but you just didn’t think he’d be this staggering. Perhaps average, at best.
But one slight glimpse through your peripheral vision left your greedy mouth parting - he was long. So, so long from the end of his body to way past halfway down his thick thigh.
And so massively girthy that you’re half-counting each jolting throb from the edges of your eyesight.
Your mouth waters something slick at the primal heat radiating from between his legs. Trying your very hardest not to let your jaw drop as your pupils dare to snake down, down, down—
“Wanna change that?” The words spill out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them- and Gojo looks ruined at the very idea.
Eyes glittering, cherry-pink lips falling into a soft oh! “Wh-what are you…”
You hesitate, this was Gojo after all. And you might feel your panties getting damper by the minute but he… Finger balling into a fist as you start to pull away, “Want me to stop-”
“Backing out, miss valedictorian?”
Fuck- it happens like a flash of lightining.
In a nanosecond you’re thinking you should pull away, and the next Gojo has his slender fingers gripping your wrist. Tugging your palm to creep right down the bulging cylindrical length twitching between his legs as if you were weightless.
He was desperate. He was shifting, lurching his hips up off the rickety chair completely so that your soft fingers brush further down his fat, weeping clothed cock.
An uncharacteristically dark drawl seeping into his voice, “Couldn’t score on the exam and now you can’t score- ngh.”
But, of course, this Gojo Satoru was all talk - his spit-glossed lips wobbling with a whimper the very moment you slip your hands to skim the hem of his pants.
Pop.
There goes one of his polished buttons, all sensible. Anything but the way that Gojo’s sexily slouching his toned body into the library desk, a heady gasp departing his lips. “Finish what you- hah! started.”
Pop.
And you knew that those dexterous digits of his could easily wander down his complicated buttons- but right now Gojo was fumbling.
He was gnawing on the bubblegum insides of his cheek and keening as he struggled to remove his trousers.
Pop.
Pop!
One of the silvery buttons end up clattering down on the wooden floors. Finally - finally - freeing his aching, bloated cock.
And you’re not just seeing it first - you’re hearing it. The very crown of his reddened tip hitting halfway up his cotton vest with a wettened splat! Eyeing the darkening patch of cloth with a gulp.
Gojo’s long lashes flap— hissing at the strike of cold air where he was most sensitive. “Wh-who’s the scaredy-cat now?”
But how could you not be spellbound?
Mentally, you’re counting nine - maybe even near ten - entire inches of his thick, vein-covered shaft.
The mushroomed edge of his cockhead blushing the prettiest shade of strawberry pink, and he was just as needily swollen. Spraying out a few glistening trails of pre that puddle up cutely near the curly tufts of white lining his v-line. He was just aching for your touch.
Ruining.
Jolting like he was zapped with a thousand bolts of electricity the moment your thumb smears the pearly bubble of precum that’d started to leak out of him. Breathless, “Who’s a scaredy-cat?”
“You-hngh!” He’s gritting down on his lower lip as a groan erupts from his throat, teary eyelids wrenching shut at the blissful sensation.
Your hand was so soft- so heavenly.
Just the slightest trace of your fingerpads gliding down Gojo’s puffy pink veins sends him heaving, the heated figure of his body leaning into your touch. “W-wait-” He spits out through snarling pearly whites as the length of your fingers squeezes the fattened base of his cock sensually. “Fuh-fuck! What the fuck- s-sexual pleasure. Shared sexual pleasure feels like this?”
Just lightly pumping up to press the mountains of your palm into his tender underside. Gojo was so rock-hard that your skin’s memorizing every zig-zagging line of his pulsing veins. “Hmm–?”
“This- how-” Azure eyes pleading up at you, “Hck! How-”
And you’re unsure whether he was babbling at the simplest drag of your hand or yearning for actual responses - but you never did leave a question unanswered. “Mmm– yeah? Like it, Satoru?”
“L-lov-” That little confession almost dribbles from his lips just from the way you’re cooing his first name. Ethereal ivory strands plastering to his forehead as he hastily shakes the thought free, voice breaking. In disbelief.
He’s tugging his slightly-fogged glasses up his nosebridge, “How does it feel like this- why- fuuuuck– should be…illegal.”
You’re fighting back a moan yourself, the dainty ends of your fingernails fluttering all the way from his drenched happy trail up, up, up, up to kiss his coral-pink slit.
Glittering a webbed wad of pre that drips down to your wrist as you’re caressing his sensitive outline. Just loooong, lazy traces that feel so good he’s sweating bullets from the sides of his temples.
“The arteries on the dorsal- Don’t stop–”
“So bossy.”
Gojo finds himself jerking impatiently. He finds himself flinching when you choose that very moment to lean your puckered lips over and plant a wet smack! of spit right down his bulbous, bulging tip. Starting up a sultry pace, “Think I like you better when you’re hah- like this, Satoru.”
“Shut up- fuck- mmm, right there-”
With two palms white-knuckled on the chair’s armrests, he’s stooping his muddled head over and rutting- animalistically. Milking himself on every drag of your plush hands, “Please- please.”
Oh, you really liked it when he begged.
And you’re pacing your hand even slower, squeezing the pointed globe of his ruby-red tip with a resounding squeeelch! “H-haaaah! There? There? I-if you touch me there…”
“Say that for me again- that ‘pretty please.’” When he can only lower his head deeper and wetly mumble- “Again- oh.”
You shouldn’t have underestimated him - you really shouldn’t have underestimated him.
Because the moment your wrist strains with the warning signs of slowing your tempo even more- Gojo’s snaps his right hand to hold your hand still and thrusts.
The weeping thickness of his cocktip mazes between your fingers like a searchlight, he’s fountaining out a warm ribbon of pre that froths down your hand once his long length emerges.
“F-for the distal end of the glans, the primary source of sexual pleasure- your hand’s fucking h-heaven…oh.” He’s letting rip a guttural grunt, the muscles on his neck ticking. Half-lidded, drunken eyes circling around dizzily until they finally fall upon your shocked oh! face. “Too bad I c-can’t say the same for your mouth-”
“Hey!”
And you would’ve said something further - you should’ve. You were trying to, yet that very moment Gojo fucks his slenderly toned hips up in such a hard thrust that it makes your pinky nearly bruise at the thwack! of his heavy balls hitting yours.
He was so fucking hard that the spank of his sagged balls make your skin sting, oh-so-tight that it leaves him standing uprightly erect even when you’re cupping his hilt.
“Nghhhh f-fuck. Yeah- yeahhh take it- take it just like that, princess.” Gojo’s voice drops into a carnal growl as he’s hooding his eyes over and staring right at where he was using your hand. The thickened digits of his fingers squeezing your own righter ‘round the gummy tip, looser to pound his base. “No one’s ever touched me like this.”
Your hands were so much smaller than his own - than his cock, too.
Damn near dwarfing your touch, he’s throbbing his girth so much fucking fatter that every jolt makes your own wrist shiver with intensity. Faster.
A few speckles of syrupy drool dribbling down the side of his curling lips, “Should’ve told me if- haaah-” And just then, you’re fingering your thumb to tease the flared ridge of his mushroom crownhead. Making Gojo shudder his pecs and droop his face to mouth down your neck.
Red hot. Your poor nerdy rival was blushing so hard that wherever he made contact with your throat made your flesh sizzle. “-if this was what you wanted s-so badly—”
“Fuck, Satoru-”
“You guys?!”
The sudden interruption of an upbeat voice is so abrupt that Gojo can’t do anything less incriminating than pushin’ his moaning, twisting face further into the crook of your neck. Hips subtly shifting on the chair to hide your sinfulness from view, it makes the pads of your fingers snag on one of Gojo’s prominent lightning bolted veins- and leaves him biting down on your throat to muddle a whimper.
“H-Haibara?” Your voice breaks once you’re lifting your head to stare up at the beaming smile of your fellow classmate. “What umm– brings you here?”
Innocently oblivious to the mess Gojo was drooling from the orifice at his cock as your pace gets sloppier. Faster. You’re coughing lightly to mask the repeated fwop! emanating when the back of your fisted hand hits the front of his toned pelvis.
“Same as you, of course.” Your audience replies, enunciating his point with a nod towards the papers and textbooks scattered about you two. Clapping his hands, “How wonderful it is to see the two of you studying together- I always did tell Kento you two would end up friends.”
And of course it wasn’t abnormal for Gojo Satoru to ignore anyone and everyone except his books.
Of course it wasn’t strange- but Haibara sweetly asks, anyway. Tone dripping in concern, “Is he alright, though?”
Gojo’s bucking up to your touch when he’s addressed, one that he’s masking as a flinch. Using that as lewd leverage to squeeze and squeeze the delicate line of his tip, up n’ down.
Forcing out a slight chuckle, “O-oh, he’s alright. Just resting.” Pointedly pumping your wrist until it was aching, all the way from the bloated bottom of his cock to thumb up his dripping crownhead that Gojo has to mask with shivers. Sneakily, you chance a grope of your free hand to tenderly squeeze his achy balls. “He can’t keep up with my…flashcards, y’know how it is.”
Haibara nods, “Right of course, of course- it’s so sweet how supportive the two of you are with each other’s studies.”
And underneath his panting, cloudy breath, you’re making out Gojo scoffing. The frigid rim of his glasses cratering against the pulse on the side of your neck as he throb-throb-throbs in your hand.
Twitching. Slobbering. Rutting- everything he could possibly do to milk his fat, swollen cock on your hands without anyone else here noticing. Punishingly, he sinks his honed canines into your skin— “C-cum- gonna–”
Urgently, your cadence turns nearly frantic. Furious, tugging pulls that leave the mahogany chair creaking with slight rickets.
“Y-yeah– Satoru- deserves it. He’s been working so hard.” You breathe, unsure who it was for.
But it makes the man melting at your touch hiss— the candy-pink divot homed right on the top of his barreling length so hot with slippery cobwebs of pre. Drooling out more. Jolting even more. Glasses sliding down.
Your classmate only grins, “Awww–” Taking the slightest step closer and your warm hand tightens in panic. “You two would make the cutest couple!”
And that’s just about when Gojo cums–
Hot, hard.
So, so heavy with the sheer volume of buttery, sappy white cum he was spilling into your lap. You fight to keep your smile from widening at the way his heated pink shaft drizzles with streaming streaks of seed that stains the skin of your outer thighs.
Gojo lets out a soft gasp of breath once he’s twitching his lusty cock to slap down on your flesh and chase the heat of your cunt.
Right where he feels himself slip n’ slide across the slick outer sheen dampening from your core— right where he needed to fuck you. Just the darkened edge of his dilated pupil peeks out from the crook of your neck to stare at your audience dead-on. In front of him, if he had to.
And you could sense it, too.
Which is why you’re hastily waving off Haibara’s comment– “Ahh– well, it’s too soon for that.”
“You never know~” Casually scratching the back of his neck, not a thing was amiss in the way that Haibara’s perking up. “I should leave you two to it, then. And I have to tell Kento about this new development and I haven’t studied and-”
You don’t dare let your sigh of relief escape until after he’d walked away with an eager wave.
Gojo himself was letting go of the area he’d been gnawing on your neck with a soppy pwah! Unsteadily lifting his head just to inch forwards and teeter-
Oh, he looked absolutely fucked-out.
All heavily-lidded eyes that blinked slowly, and a mouth now shiny with a fresh coating of transparent spittle. Spectacles askew, hair rumpled, collar hauled to the side as if he was undressing himself.
Greedy slobber bubbles up by the side of his flushed lips and trickles when he catches sight of your hands still wrapped around his softening cock.
Not looking ‘round you two - not even caring if anyone sees, he’s gently lifting your dominant wrist over to hover near his gulping maw. “Made me make s-such a mess, princess.”
Your fingers trembly at the sheer scorching gusts of his humid breath, Gojo bores right into your eyes as he unfastens his jaw and lets his pinkish tongue liiiiick right up your cream-coated fingers. And the only thing hotter than his ropes of seed were the slimy edges of his tongue.
Weaving between your pinky, takin’ extra care on your ring finger.
Each and every one. One by one, he’s sapping down wet slurps with his mouth as he sucks on each glob of white decorating your digits like his favorite lollies.
“W-we’re–” Gojo starts, his glittering lips still speckled with a bead of frosting. Of cum as he cleans you off. Dry Adam’s apple bobbing, “We’re never– hah.” Before strangling his words with a pained grunt and salivating the ridges of his tastebuds down your fingers in a final French kiss.
Then another. And another. And another- like he couldn’t fucking get enough.
And it viscerally ached him somewhere deeply primal inside to curl his rugged palm around your wrist and wrench himself away with a moistened pop! that resonates like music in the empty library air.
Mouth curling as he pushes up his glasses for the nth time, “We’re never studying together again.”
Speechless, it’s just then that you’re noticing that- oh. Gojo Satoru has dimples.
.
.
.
Gojo Satoru failed that test.
He totally, totally failed that test.
Which wouldn’t have been as completely soul-crushing to watch his streak of constant A++ grades be torn down before his very eyes had that final actually been difficult. But Yaga had, mercifully, decided to go easy on them this time - and Gojo should have been able to ace this exam in his sleep.
Which was quite difficult for him to pull off such a feat when he found himself unable to think about anything but you.
Well, given, that wasn’t exactly an outlandish state-of-mind for him.
Though, usually it’s more along the lines of how ridiculous it was that you thought you’d top Yaga’s Dean’s List instead of him, how your essay wasn’t even that great (okay, maybe it was- but his was better!), or wondering whether it was part of your strategy to look so gorgeous that you distract the entire department into failing.
But today - even right now - all he could wonder about was how ah, question number five- you’d wrapped all five of your pretty lil’ fingers around his cock.
How soft they were, how perfect they looked pumping his painfully hard girth and fuck- soon enough he was blessed with a half-chubbed dick tightening his pants, and a muddled brain that’d already started writing his answer about you, your damn hands, and you.
Fuck, he could feel his skin flaring at the mere memory again.
“Goddammit-” He’s grinding the backs of his molars until he’s tasting metal, staring at the empty lined paper that would usually have been filled and stapled to the backs of his final. “Goddammit.”
And then Gojo stands- so abruptly that several blissfully ignorant students recoil at the sudden movement from their stoic classmate. Papers flying, usual backpack left behind.
It’s as if a storm, the steps leading him the row or two further up the lecture hall groan and protest at Gojo’s stomping. Closer to where you were - with your face in your hands, and your expression harrowed as if you’d just seen a ghost.
“You.” He’s starting, rumbling voice low.
You wince at the sound, as if only just noticing the man towering up to you. Settling your widened eyes off of your…curiously blank sheets of extra paper, only to stare up at Gojo and grimace again. “You.”
And any and all irritation regarding the little predicament you’d put him in vanishes as he realizes.
You failed that test, too.
SLAM!
Two roughened hands of his strike down on your table to lean in so close, the rows surrounding you two hushing so quiet that you could hear every single one of Gojo’s ragged breaths. Close.
So, so close.
You’re counting every single white lash of his, every spike of pale blue in his sapphire irises, every glint in his snarl. So close that your nose tingles with the perfume of that familiar sultry vanilla.
He watches, expressionless, as your thighs squeeze together beneath you. Shit.
“Y-you.” Gojo’s voice was rough, as hoarse as if he was trying to keep something deep and dark out of it. “Tonight. My dorm.” Risking a glance around the nosy rest of the hall, his face burns at the unsuccessful way they were pretending not to be listening. “For…studying.”
A wolf whistle rings through the tense air— “Get a room!”
“They’re about to~”
“I knew this would happen.”
“Please keep talking to a minimum, some students are taking extra time on the test.” Yaga’s bored drone shatters the mirth - only to heighten it by twofold just as soon as Gojo feels the slightest hint of relief. “Please keep flirting to a minimum, too.”
And then he turns back to you and you wink.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
.
.
.
“Oh-ohhh mm, Gojo–” Your head throws back against the carpet of Gojo’s stifling bedroom, your lips gluing together with strands of spit as soon as he kisses your inner thigh and salivates. Mouth churning with wads of spit ready to devour you-
“Satoru.”
“Wh-what?” It takes you every ounce of strength in your sprawled-out body to question in response.
Head lurching just the slightest few degrees to gaze upon the way he was stuffed nose-deep between your legs - glasses, cocky grin and all.
Gojo takes the lecherous time to perk his flared nostrils over and sniiiiff–! the aroma of your wetness, his overeager maw spilling a thin trail of spittle at the saccharine-sweet scent of your dripping pussy. “Call me- hah! Satoru.”
Shit- how did you even get here?
Skirt and blouse off, needy.
It’s as if one second you’re explaining (quite ashamedly, mind you) how your plan had backfired and you’d bombed that test, sputtering as Gojo rolls his eyes knowingly. And the next…
Spank! You don’t have to look down to already feel the twisted curl of Gojo’s smirk against your thighs, one of his hands soothing across where he’d oh-so-rudely spanked the right of your ass cheek.
“Zoning out already? Your Bartholin gland is working overtime to lubricate.” He hums, the frigid metal frames leaving your hips squirming. Tilting his head, “You’re wet.”
“Y-you wish-” You’re huffing and puffing despite the way you’re smearing your legs even more widely agape with primal need. Just begging him for something, anything, with each squelching wave of slick pouring from between your pussylips.
Gojo leaves one kiss near your cute belly button, another on the hemline of your clingy panties.
Mwah, mwah– soft, puckered lips trace allll over except where you were aching for him the most. He’s snickering at through a hot gasp once the sharp edges of his teeth snag on the forefront of your underwear and let it snap! back.
“Think you’re soooo fuckin’ smart, huh?” Gojo spits, furiously. “Always so intelligent- so smug.” Dragging the crescent nubs of his fingernails down the sides of your body–
Tearing down your panties, flopping through the crevice of your folds to give you just a singular push of his miry tongue. Just a singular kiss, a singular snog of his flattened muscle slapping down on your entrance. “Let’s see how s-smart you really are, then, miss valedictorian.”
And despite the way he’s running his mouth, his tongue sings a different tune. Just like jelly- shyly wobbling on the puffy outside of your pussylips and lapping up gulp after gulp of your sap.
He was parched- and couldn’t help but tickle your cunt like a man thirsting for years. Thirsting for years, and yet, he couldn’t help the way he’s slouching back slightly on his knees with a burning blush–
“Y-you’re only saying that because-” He jolts at the sudden rut of your hips, sending a slobbering stroooke straightly down your slit. “-because you can’t handle anything else.”
Gojo quirks a cloudy brow, “Anything…oh.”
And though it pained a carnal part of you to - though your pussy was quivering in protest - you find your arm reaching out to grab the prim collar of Gojo’s white sweater and traaawl him all the way up. “Wan’ you in my hah- mouth, Satoru.”
“Ngh–” He’s nibbling his plush bottom lip to bite back a fucking whine– and the moment that slight smirk starts twitching your lips, Gojo scoops your legs up in a surprisingly strong hold.
Big, beefy arms lifting you in midair and throwing you down on the bed. You yelp as you bounce- he’s careless, desperate, the only thing he needs right now is to have you on his bed. On his mouth-
“Th-think I can’t handle a b-blow- fellatio, huh?”
He’s grumbling as he lays himself flatly on the cushy mattress, letting those navy sheets be rumpled once he’s sitting back sexily. And you’re almost wishing you could turn yourself around and ogle that handsome vision settling right between your legs.
“Oh- oh.” Gojo mouths gapes as he really - really takes in the sight of you. All sopping wet and needy for him. Shuddering steadily in and out to regain his breath in some way, “Oh my god- fuck, what a prettyyy pussy.”
“H-hnghh, fuck–” Your mouth drops once large palms spread-spread-spreeead your cheeks apart and let your dewdropped slick drip! down into his throat.
Shivering, every time his claggy breath stroked your pried-open entrance. Leaving a wide, hot open-mouthed kiss right where Gojo could spy your glistening hole winking.
You were just a three-course meal sitting above him. And he was ready to crane his neck and diiive–
ZIIIIIIP–!
“Shit- princess, what are you- fuck!”
Your grin grows when you stagger off Gojo’s plaid pants and let his reddened, swollen cock hit your chin with a plap! “Whaaat–?”
He was standing tall, proud.
Soooo many swollen, throbbing inches standing up rock-hard n’ straight just from the mere idea of having your saccharine pussy on his mouth.
Thighs trembling where you were straddling his head, fuck, if Gojo was in any better state of mind he’d have registered the way your syrupy pussy grows wetter. “Scared?”
He blushes- he keens, mindlessly bucking his hips to chase the heat of your mouth. “N-no. It’s a perfectly normal reaction to sexual stimulation-”
“You talk too much.”
“Then…”
You’re whimpering, your spine bowing into the perfect curvature once Gojo claws a firm handful of your ass and pulls you to him to kiss your pretty pussy. “Get up here.” Letting the thickened air ring with the smack of his glossy lips gluing to your outer folds, “Get up- get up here so that I can fucking show you, miss valedictorian.”
And he might have absolutely zero experience - but that didn’t mean that Gojo wasn’t hungry.
He’s not waiting around for you to tease him to death with your sweet, puckered lips. No- he’s tugging you down his lengthy body and latching ‘round the nub of your clit first.
“She- she’s the clit, huh?”
“Sh-shit…oh my ngh- Satoru!”
Tittering, “Course she is- located at the top of the vulva and responsible f-for connecting the network of erectile tissue. And she has you alll stupid.”
Your treacly cunt was giving him the cutest lil’ welcome by pouring a wave of sticky slick right down his chin, he’s sliding the wetness against the innards of your squeezing thighs and pushing himself nose-deep.
Glasses cluttering, vein-decorated forearms flexing. “How’s that–?” Endlessly listing off the three-hundred different ways to toy with your sensitive clit, he’s swervin’ the glazed point of his tongue in cute hearts. Groaning into your pussy, “Mmmm– your turn- o-oh fuck!”
And you weren’t just teasing him, you were simply waiting for the perfect moment to plop your saturated mouth in a clammy smooch over Gojo’s round, smooth cockhead.
Lapping the narrowed margin of your tongue to rim that split-end on his tip, your tastebuds scorch with the warm cream of his pre. Buttering up your flat muscles as you jerk your head and draaaag a long, languid lick. “What’s that?”
Letting out the cutest pitched ‘fuck!’, Gojo bucks his hips to plunge between your hot maw with a wet fwop!
Hissing, “I was mistaken, your mouth is heaven.”
Gulping him deeper-
“Haaaah- wait.” It’s like he’s easing and then back- too much for his sensitive, inexperienced cock. “Stimulating my c-cock with a tongue so good. Now that’s- that’s just fucking- unfair-”
Spanking your cunt with a splatter of wadded saliva before teething his canines along your clit and pinching. Groaning right into that mess, “Unfair- th-that’s unfair- fuck! Shit, how do you make everything feel so good- You always do hafta ch-cheat, huh?”
He has to battle with himself not to cum right then and there.
But he wasn’t going down without a fight.
You’re just starting to lavish your silky tongue over the sensitive veins snaking along his meaty base, chin tickling with curly white hairs- when Gojo wraps an arm around your waist and pulls—
“Wh-who’s cheating now?”
“And who do ya think you are?” Gojo pleads- he strains. Your body being slightly bumped up n’ down like a rollercoaster after each heave of his broad pectorals.
And just playing with your clit wasn’t enough, he needed to use his inhuman strength to make you rest your entire weight. “Just- sit–” Throat hatching with lilting groans once your mouth is sliiiding sensually down his pink shaft. Gojo’s speaking between French kisses to your cunt, grunting like it hurt him to break off.
And even though he’s practically still closed, you swear you could count every one of his eight, ladder-like abs.
“But I could ngh- suffocate-”
Rutting- deep back into your mouth till his bawling mushroom tip swabs the very back of your throat. “So? Then it’ll be my ngh- first and last time. Respiration is overrated, just- fucking- sit.”
Yelping, it’s all you can do to claw your nails down each of Gojo’s thick, milky thighs once he grabs onto your body and slams you down on his readily awaiting mouth.
“Fuck- fuck!” Eyes widened, tone crazed. He doesn’t know where to look when he’s slobbering his heated mouth in dragging licks up and down between your puffed-up folds, occasionally peeking inside your fluttering hole and giving your ring of muscle a sloooow stretched-out circle.
Gojo slaps the velvety underside of his tongue down on your sensitive entrance and watches as your syrupy slick pooours. “Don’t know how long I-I’ve dreamt of this, princess-”
“Y-you have?”
Though, it comes out gurgled and half-moaned around the fattened circumference of Gojo’s pulsating, long cock. He was just so big that you’d barely even slid his heavy shaft down halfway until he’s probing your throat thoroughly.
Fattened balls tightened once he speaks, “You- have- nooooo fucking idea-” Punctuated with heavy, slashing strokes of his tongue.
You’re damn near sobbing at the sheer surprisingly strength of his - the pleasure. Gojo was technical in his approach, a snagging lil’ circle to make your hole stretch cutely- before gifting himself a looong lick from the base of your pussy right up to your clit.
“Every time before a test- e-every time after. Ngh- every time someone would l-look at you in those pretty skirts and- fuuuuck! wanted to fuck that damn mouth shut every time you’d insult me. Every time- made you wanna scream.”
Swiping his simmering tastebuds down with circles. Hearts. Something that felt like an S–
“Tha’s right- goood girl, you got that one right.” He’s piping up from between your dampened inner thighs. Fucking you with his tongue just the way his weighty cock was bawling and begging to fuck you.
And it takes you one more sweltering kiss, two more until you’re lifting your mouth back off of Gojo’s fat cock in realization- did you just say that out loud?
“Mhmm—” Gojo answers, voice breaking with a slight whine at the loss of heat. Promptly, you’re pushing your hips back to ride his mouth shut and gawking at the way it makes his shaft twitch wildly. Like a madman, he’s rutting up to capture your sweet, sweet lips once more-
“Th-think I like it better when you- ngh-” You somehow manage to get out through sappy wet bobs of your mouth, every squelch! drawn out by the suction of your hollowed lips deafening in his cozy bedroom. You start to feverishly pump the solid inches of his you couldn’t fit inside, holding onto one side of his muscular glutes for balance. “-when you shut up.”
“N’ you’re better when you have- my-” It was even worse with every buzzzzing vibration of his voice tingling your clit. The bed rickets in unison with your whines as he drills up into your slickened mouth maddeningly, plummy tip scouring your inner cheeks. “-biiig fucking cock in y-your mouth.”
And then Gojo wasn’t just making out with your cunt till he’s pussydrunk- he’s slithering one of his slender, pale fingers until it’s all glazed with a satiny layer of sap and caressing your entrance.
Tenderly, he slips just the thick first pad of it past the tight muscle before you’re clenching- being dragged even further up his face.
“C’mon- c’mon c’mon c’mon please-” Pushing and pushing, he couldn’t handle the singlest bit of resistance unless he wanted to tear up.
The size of his digit is just so looong and nimble enough that Gojo finds himself in awe at the way your snug hole opens up to swallow him eagerly. Crying out bulbous tears of sap, you’re just arching your back and taking every one thrust. Two. Three. Four–
Swatting your clit with the pointed fringe of his chin, he’s flopping his tongue over in a textured pattern on top of your perky clit. One that makes you gasp— “A? A?”
“Mhmm—” Teething your swollen folds at the grooving tickle of his prominent middle veins on the roof of your mouth, the way you’re announcing everything he spells is just so hot that Gojo bucks until you choke. “Next-”
Struggling, flowing so much damper at the muscles of his front. God- he was sooo fucking fit. Using every ounce to push– “Mmpf- ngh-” Mouth so full that your cheeks bulge, “J?”
“What’s that? Wha’s that?” Gojo almost throws his head back into the bedsprings and chuckles. “Miss vale-hah! valedictorian can’t even spell-” Toying the mushy tip of his tongue over your clit again, “What’s that?”
“T- please. Not gonna last-”
“Mmmm–” He’s so close now that you could feel the cold press of his glasses, all drenched at this point. Even more so when Gojo adds in a third finger and lets it just graze the splotchy area of your g-spot.
“Sa-toru, your glasses-”
He didn’t even care. He didn’t even need them at this point.
“Use the momentum of your hips. Move. Ride.”
In three different ways. Riding him exactly how he wanted you to in languid, slobbering drags and he’s never been more in heaven. The nubs of your hardened nipples rubbin’ all sensitive through your bra where Gojo manhandles you to glissade down his tensed core.
His throbbing shaft twitching and striking the roof of your mouth, he’s getting fervent. Burning hot. “Aww- pretty princess is all dumb. What’s- that?”
His tongue’s so dexterous that even your hazed mind can make out each syllable, each letter. Faster. Harder. “O- ngh! S’an O-” Trembling palms cupping his balls, “R- M’so fucking close.”
And you could already guess the next looping drag of his tongue. The precise syllable on your tongue once you’re throwing your head back and shattering– “U- You- fuck! Satoru–!” You didn’t even have to try to open your mouth and let the wadded ribbon of saliva dangle off from it.
Striking Gojo’s veiny shaft and making him buck-
“That’s it- nghhh- c’mon, princess, scream my name.”
“Saaa–toru. C-cummin- ngh.” You don’t even have the privilege of finishing your damn sentence before he’s plopping in four of his prolonged fingers and making your wave of euphoria burst.
So hard that your vision dots with pure white. You’re leaking from both your maw and your fluttering eyelids now, “P-please.” Mouth flooded with so many whimpers and torrents of slobber. You’re so far thrust into your blissful high that you don’t even realize you’ve stuck the first few inches of Gojo’s spit-glazed cock inside your watered mouth.
“Yeah- yeahhh what do ya want?”
“C-cum.”
“Hmm–?”
Shoveling right inside like your favorite pinkish ice cream once you’re peeking over your shoulder and mumbling– “C-cum, Toru–”
And there it was - that did it.
You, saying his first name. Like that.
The only thing more it takes before creeps his sweaty palm over the crown of your skull and pushes- straight down. Straight full of his lengthy, rummaging fat cock, until your nose nuzzles the slight fuzz of silky white at the base.
Eyes sprinting to the back of your head, your throat gets all clogged-up with his throbbing inches before he fills it up even further.
Oh, oh- you never thought you could ever be so damn full.
It’s as if he’s torn apart your throat and was probin’ the curve of his bulging mushroom tip right into the base of your lungs. Flooding it up with sploshing wires of stringy cum, pumping and pumping each ribbon until it’d formulated a buttery frosting everywhere he could reach.
“O-ohhh fuck- nghhhh fuck-” Bottomed-out, yet pushing down even further. “Y-you…”
With a splattering bubble of drool that trickles from the rosy corner of his lips- Gojo couldn’t even clearly see from his tear-shattered vision, and yet, he was staring dead-on at your relaxed throat.
Mindlessly, the sensory tip of his index traces that bulging cylindrical outline being fucked against the underside of your neck. Dooown all nine inches. Gojo jostles your weakened knees apart and lets his overspilling cock dab the corners and crevices of your hot mouth.
The bloated, flaring ridge of his slit moving it all over. Breathlessly giggling, “You really- really t-took it ngh- all…you- oh.” Heavy, pink balls tightening as if he could cum again- “How’s that, little miss valedictorian?”
You swallowed.
“S’that…all you got?”
And he couldn’t get enough.
It was just too adorable how your snarky mouth was hoarse n’ all spellbound by the time Gojo slides his veined cock a few more vulgar times down your tongue and pulls out with a plop!
“Ngh- T-Toru-”
“Shiiit- don’t call me that- fuuuck don’t call me- oh.” He couldn’t even speak. The polished frames of his glasses nearly dangling off, Gojo manhandles your boneless body around to sit prettily on his manspread lap.
To admire you properly.
And all it takes is that singular glimpse of you.
That clouded vision of you above him - your eyes glassy with a film of lust, mouth sopping wet with milky wads of seed that drip! drip! drip! down between his toned pecs.
Your fucked-out hips glissading back down the uprightly laid length of his girth - over every vein, every ridge - with a whine-
And the man damn near loses it.
He’s whining, bucking- his feet planting up to gyrate his hot cock against your skin like he was aching for more. “Need it.” You’re almost startled as two of Gojo’s palms latch onto your hips and make you push, “Please- I mean- fuck.” Shit, he couldn’t stop himself from babbling pussdrunkenly.
That carnal urge pulsing from his bulging tip to push deeply inside you.
You’re feeling Gojo swell up even fatter - even harder - behind the cheeks of your ass and find yourself pushing back with a greedy pap! of skin-on-skin. “Don’t tell me…”
“Shut up.” Kissing you, he tastes salted caramel and nearly cums again.
Lecherous grin growing even wider, you break off. “Awww—” Your previous dazed state slowly fading with the last few tingles of your orgasm, “Wittle Toru’s first time?”
“Shut up.”
He’s straining his neck and snapping his jaw with a click! Honed canines threatening the fragile skin of your nipples, you’re pushing back on his feverish flesh.
Gojo looked so pretty like this that you just couldn’t help it - all stinging, red cheeks, and your pussy slicking a gooey lustre that plasters from his dripping chin all the way to damn near the tips of his ears.
Puddling.
“No need to worry.” You shove on his blushing collarbones with a whimper, his cock was so hard that it hurt. “I’ll be ngh- gentle, Satoru, so oh- fuck!”
But Gojo Satoru didn’t wait this long to be fucking gentle.
No- just like the way he’s longed to whenever you always got so close, so fiery shutting him up during arguments - Gojo thrusts the big, bulging tip of his cock between your swollen folds and pushes.
His first.
Finding his muscular thighs trembling, mouth parting, pupils rolling until all you could see was the pure white of his eyes. Something dark and primal breaks at the back of his ravaged throat, “O-oh.” And he’s gasping with the effort to compose himself- to say something snarky.
But all Gojo can do is hold onto the girthy base of his shaft and let it drip with a glaze of syrupy pre. Mouth opening n’ closing, breath catching.
“Wait- you’re so-” Bucking his hips just the slightest inch off the dampened sheets and letting it slide pointedly along your walls. “-y-you’re so soft- and warm. And ngh- nghhh fuck! Th-this is what the adventitia- what your pretty pussy feels like?”
Watery eyes widening once you nod, “Th-then m’neeever pulling out. Your lamina propria’s gonna mold to my cock, miss valedictorian.”
Cooing, he hastily tugs off his cottony sweater, fumbling once the syrupy pool of slick you’d leaked all over his neckline makes it stick to his skin like an adhesive. And oh- fuck.
You’d felt every line and shapely curve of Gojo’s chiseled abs down your front. Hell, you could still feel the way your tummy was aching with the stinging ridges of him pressed up against you- and yet, it still doesn’t prepare you for just how sexily toned your smug rival was.
All naturally muscular edges of his broad shoulders, and his ivory happy trail was wobbling with the bumps of his abs. All flexing. All tense.
All heated against your naked thighs as he grips your ass cheeks and pushes you down, down, down–
“Ngh…oh– Toru!”
“S-soooo sweet.” Voice hitching, he’s squinting his eyes cutely in pleasure at that silken, soft hug of your walls. You’re shaping around his thickly barreling length so tight that he’s roughly handling you to lift up and down- up and down. Deeper. “So ngh- so much better than that…PocketPussy3000 I named after ya, princess.”
And you would be snarking back- teasing him, had it not been for the way that Gojo was so fucking big that he made your mind stupidly dizzy.
“B-big?” Gojo croaks out from underneath you- oh, shit, you’d said that out loud. Again. “Am I…” Drifting his glassy eyes downwards to watch where your puffy pussylips were bulging whilst struggling to take him. “-really that big?”
Biting down on the insides of your cheek as you lie, “N-no.”
Experimentally, Gojo gives another feral rut. Watching as your pretty eyes nearly bulge out of your head, your maw falling ajar into a perfect ‘o’.
He’s fucking up into you with his massive cock and barely even trying to dig the smooth, left-leaning curve of his achy girth into your every nook and cranny. Veins bloated up so wide that they carve a zig-zagged pattern against your tight channel after every ba-dump–!
Gojo really was that big.
“H-heh.” Octaves higher, wild. He’s chuckling as if he still couldn’t even believe it when Gojo’s right hand creeps up the side of your hips to press down on your tummy.
“Mmm– hck! If you’re gonna press there, Satoru-”
“Why? S’a biiig stretch for the poor stratified squamous epithelium isn’t it?” Feeling himself with the edges of his ravenous, long digits as he sliiiides in- rocking n’ rocking upwards against your snug resistance. Speaking over the creaky bedcoils, “Say it- tell me.”
Arms rested upon his flexing deltoids, you throw your head back after each solid inch he was blowing your cunt up with. Until it felt like your walls were being snagged on to the maximum, “B-big-”
“Nuh uh, princess- biiiig stretch. Say it w’me now-”
“Big- ngh!” You’re fighting against Gojo’s sloppy cadence from behind you to roll your hips back onto his trembling thighs. Deeper. Deeper. “Biiig stretch–”
“That’s right—” Oh, you’ve never been more irresistible to him. And Gojo’s palm massages the bumpin’ bulge being pounded against your tummy, until you can feel every crease of his palm lines. It makes his filthy mouth salivate to feel the stretch inside as you keep swallowing his cock deeper. “Again now- nghhh- biiig stretch.”
“Biiiig stretch- oh, fuck!”
Just about the only thing you can do is spit out a string of swears when Gojo bottoms out and hits the base of your pussy with a sharp spank!
Tendrils of white rubbin’ your outer pussy raw, the circumference of his length bullying inside to stretch your hole into such a cute oh! The exact same shape that your mouth was turning into right now, “Please- fuck mmm–”
Squelches! ring out after every springy bounce you plant on Gojo’s length, your calves burning with the sheer effort it takes to smooch your puckered ring over his tip and slide, slide, slide all the way down to his hilt.
Breathing out in a pant, “Oh, you’ve taken all of me- all of me? Seriously- fuck!” Gojo lets his inexperienced hips drive all the way upwards in carnal, uncontrolled ruts. “Tha’s just right- fuh-fuck back t’me like that mmm-”
“Getting hck! really cocky–” You’re biting, your overworked pussy quivering as you clench. “-Toru.”
And oh, that makes him shatter.
Hips mindless, head flopping backwards, mouth opening with the prettiest, more pornographic whine. You’d just made the Gojo Satoru whine with your pussy.
His drunken gaze only half-opening to stare at you through dilated eyes, glasses completely fogged-up and useless now that you’re roughly riding him. Smart mouth babbling, “D-don’t think you’re- winning–”
It was a competition even now.
Like a race to who could get the other to break first, he’s matching your papping cadence and even more. And through the tears clung to your lashes, you’re spying the way that Gojo’s v-line was swollen n’ red with slamming contact.
Your hand glissading down his sweat-glistening skin to trace his sensitive abs, “Oh yeah? And you think- hck-” Another sluuurping clench, another topple of his head. His sanity. “-y-you’re winning?”
“Still haven’t found the mmm– Gräfenberg spot yet, princess.” He’s smirking, one hand rested upon your right ass cheek to keep on stirrin’ his rummaging length in swivels inside of you. The other thumbing over your neglected clit in the meantime, muttering. “Anterior wall under the urethra…roughly hnghhh– this many inches deep and part of the sensitive clitoral network…”
His split-ending, bawling cocktip probes your glossy walls like a spotlight. Your g-spot being the bullseye that he’s targeting dead on. Grinning.
“-here.”
Precisely, you feel the heat of his prominent spherical cockhead drive up n’ down the entire length of that sensitive bundle of nerves. Digging the curve of his shaft generously into where you saw stars-
“Who’s winning hck! what now?”
Sloppily kissing him, just to quieten the man down. “Oh- sh-shut up.”
“Hm…” Gojo’s accurate whack! of his girth against your g-spot lets off the loudest, most lecherous squeeeelch. And he’s proddin’ his sensitive slit against your cervix just to feel it, “Can you shut up when I fuck you like- this-”
You can’t.
Mewling, your knees hit halt and wedge the swollen n’ aching nub of your clit against his supple palm. Letting his skin streak a good rub over where your core was painfully needy, “Y-you grew bigger.”
“Hmmm–?”
You’re riding him craaaazy with your hips, pussy walls clinging onto his slick cock so tightly that you’re rendered weak with every vein. Every throb. Every growth of his shaft pounding even fatter until you could barely even clench-
Bigger. Harder. Tongue slathering with a glaze of syrupy spit, “B-big– got ngh! bigger.”
“What’s that? What’s thaaaat?” His pummeling dick scouring down your walls, erupting in a proud splosh of rich precum at that cute lil’ compliment. “Bigger? Heh- my princess ngh likes, big- don’tcha?”
At this point you’re driven wild, your dewy pupils circlin’ around the insides of your eye comically. Mouth hanging open with stupid little ‘oh’s’ and ‘yesses.’
Gojo narrows his eyes once you start blubbering, bashing his tip extra hard into your g-spot so that he could have you fully dumb on his cock. “Mmm– c’mon, miss valedictorian.” Lips twitching, “Use your big girl words.”
“Hngh- hard-”
“Yeahhh– m’pretty fucking- hard- huh?”
“Harder.”
Oh- it’s a wonder he didn’t cum right then- shit, Gojo thinks he almost is.
A thin, ropey string of hot seed that hits your womb the moment he’s flattening his feet on the cushion of the bed to thrash a mean thwack! onto your spongy cervix.
Digging his geysering divot so deep against the bottom of your glutinous cunt that he grits his teeth and plugs his weepy crown shut.
Trying not to cum- praying not to cum, “Harder? Harder?” Repeated in such a high, unsteady pitch. His dazed eyes peeking over his glasses and widening, “My girl wants it harder?”
Nodding, “Please, Toru– m’soooo close.”
“Then- greedy fucking- girl- better- take it.” And he wasn’t just pummeling your poor pussy, he was pummeling it like a madman. You could practically see the rippling of his muscular body, sheer power that was being channeled into each thrust.
Each strike. Each damp smooch with your g-spot.
You didn’t even realize you were clawing at his shoulders in an attempt to crawl away until his left hand pushes down on your sweat-matted scalp.
Holding your face still, Gojo watches every cute minute reaction of yours as he goes hard. Then slow. Then sloppy. Alternating his pace until you’re sure you’ve memorized the patterns of his hammering veins on each side. “N’ that means nghh- nooo running away.”
“No runnin’-” Babbling through tears, every strike makes your brain spin. “Not gonna last- nghh fuck…not gonna last, Toru.”
“Swallowing my cock so much- S’this what you wanted after every hah- argument? Every time you yelled? Filthy giiirl, shoulda just asked.”
And Gojo was murmuring such filth into your ear that you can’t help but shrill– “Let me cum- ngh- let me cum-”
“Tch- demanding.”
“Please-”
“Better…how about ‘pretty pl–’ oh fuck.”
Before he can revel in his victory, before he can tease you any further - you’re reaching one of your jittery hands behind your back and palming at Gojo’s tight, aching ballsack. Tracing your sultry touch just where he was red n’ raw with the slamming impact of your ass.
Hips speeding up, creaking getting louder.
“Oh hah- haaaa–” Gojo tosses his head back and bucks- bucks and bucks and bucks as if he was trying to milk your orgasm sooner. Rovering thumb pressing down on your clit like his favorite button, “Cheater, cheater~”
You didn’t know who was off worse - you who was drooling out a sappy puddle after every repeated three slams of his cock each passing second. Letting your droopy body be manhandled into bouncing in a S-A-T-O-R-U that you’re not even sure Gojo realizes he’s making you spell out.
Didn’t even register. Didn’t even know.
Or Gojo who was trembling with every squeeze of your gushing walls, frantically letting his glasses slide off even further so that he wasn’t hypnotized and on the verge of losing just by watching you ride him dry.
You’re too hot to handle.
A perk that you’re immediately abusing as you push his glasses cleanly back onto his nosebridge n’ smudge away the misted fog.
“Ngh f-fuck–” Chin hitting your sweaty chest once he’s manoeuvering you into a wiiiide O to muddle together the letters of his name. Claiming your pretty pussy. Claiming him. “-fuck you, Satoru.”
Gojo leans in closer with puckered lips, close enough to kiss. “I’m fucking you, princess.” To shut you up while sucking on your tongue while it hits.
And Gojo’s so caught up in every movement of your body that he doesn’t even realize he’s finishing off in such a wet, voluminous way until it’s dripping out of you. Mouth parting, “O-oh…”
Your own orgasm takes over your body like a wave, being suddenly hit with strikes of white-hot pleasure that send goosebumps trailing down your spine. Every push of Gojo’s slick shaft feels so good that it makes your vision flash white, whimpering each time his slimy mushroom tip was kissin’ your sweetest spots.
“Cumming–” You’re calling out belatedly, hips creaming yourself on his. “I’m– oh.”
“H-heh.” And Gojo was actually giggling- giggling. Faintly noting the hot-headed mess that was his brain right now, he could only flutter his long lashes at each spike of pleasure and stare.
Ogling the way your puffy pussylips were gulping after every streak of his cum, the creamy white mess pouring out into you until your womb felt heavy.
Over and over he’s thrusting inside, making- almost forcing his cock to pour out every drop. Every ounce until it was dry.
Showered, sloppy wads of seed plastered across your hole, you could feel the pearly mess dangling out of you each time your cunt hit his pelvis. Formulating a ring of syrupy cum that made Gojo just swallow past his parched throat, “I win.”
“No.” You’re huffing. Stubborn, even as you’re sagging down until your face was cushioned by his pecs, perking your hips to milk out his last few dredges until Gojo was cumming dry. “I win-”
Dry- you’d made him cum dry.
Humping upwards so that oodles of sap would slip down your cervix and make you shudder. Both your popped ears buzzing with the splat! of cobwebbed cum that glues down your thighs. “Nuh uh, princess. I totally won that.”
“Hngh- yuh uh.”
“Nuh-”
And maybe you were the least drunken of the two, because you’re the only one with enough murky sense right now to put an end to the endless argument.
Shutting Gojo Satoru up for once in his life by reaching your hand over to dig underneath his navy pillow - searching for that glint of something you’re sure you’d caught in your lustful haze moments prior.
He can only lay beneath you and blush and blush once you pull out…that.
The PocketPussy3000 he’d named after you– the very same one he’d fuck up into night after long, lonely night thinking about his damn “rival.”
Fuck…he should’ve known the valedictorian wouldn’t forget.
“Named after me, huh? Cute.”
Indignantly pushing up his frames, “Wh-what is the meaning of this-”
“Let’s consider it a tie.” You croon, in that exact tone he knew was dangerous. And his brainy suspicions are proven correct when, the very next moment, you’re pulling yourself off of him with a dampened pop!
Letting a stream of ivory creamy swoosh down below to sheen his pale thighs - Gojo has never looked prettier, you think.
“Oh- oh my god…ngh- oh my god, princess.”
The apples of his cheeks scorching, mouth gaping, tired n’ thoroughly overstimulated pink cock flinching when you hover that rubbery toy over. Letting off a sopping slurp as you start to bully his reddened tip between the folds and jerk him off– “Round two?”
.
.
.
“It can’t be-”
“So that last time seriously wasn’t about studying?”
“You owe me five thousand yen.”
And you swear you’re catching about half the class and Yaga himself exchanges betting pools of money the very moment you and Gojo enter the lecture hall. Together. Hand-in-hand.
Fuck- was your rivalry really that infamous?
Because Gojo’s fingers weave even tighter with yours as you pass by countless stares, numerous cellphones out to take paparazzi shots of the markings on your neck that you’re sure will end up on some sort of campus bulletin board by the end of the hour.
Ah, maybe you should’ve done one of those ‘soft-launches’ first…
Too late for that, you think, seated at your usual spot on one of the first few rows and wearily watches as Yaga happily counts the spoils of his bet.
Sneaking a glance at your gloomy boyfriend, you try not to snicker- not only did he receive a stupendous second placement on the last exam, tied with you, it’s as if every single person here blatantly couldn’t tear their eyes off of his hunched, blushing figure.
Nervously pushing his glasses up to his bangs– “Maybe we should ah…‘cut class’ as they call it, princess-”
“So-” There’s a slamming weight of a strong forearm on your shoulder, ringed fingers possessive - and another one on Gojo’s - that could only mean one person. “Unless my milkshake was spiked again, I take it that the scheme- I mean, study session went well? Even though I did get first place on our last final.”
Before you can answer, Geto’s husky voice heats up your ear, low. Dangerous. “Y’know, I hear this next assignment’s a…group project.”
when you accidentally back your ass up a little too much into his crotch and he gives your waist a quick squeeze, lowering his lips by your ear as he grumbles out a low “careful”
probably not that interesting to anyone else, and too small a thing, but it's quite intriguing for me
the frey girl robb's supposed to marry, roslin, shared a slight physical similarity to sansa... she had chestnut hair, which is a mix of brown-red (A Storm of Swords, p. 712). she was also gentle natured and had a talent for music- which can also be seen as similarities to sansa, who was gentle and had a love for music and romantic things
in a way, he betrayed sansa twice- once when he refused to exchange jamie for her, and once in although unknowingly, going for someone who looked the opposite of her instead of someone with a similar feature and doing so lead to his demise
SYNOPSIS: You were tired of constantly being treated like a thing to protect by your older stepbrother, Caleb. Having reached your breaking point, you punch him. These are the consequences of your actions; the aftermath spelling out the beginning of the end.
PAIRING: caleb yizhou x f!reader
WORD COUNT: 2.4k
⚠ CONTENT WARNINGS: dubcon, pseudo/stepcest, non-consensual spanking/impact play, humiliation, blood, violence, power dynamics/imbalance, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, vaginal fingering, manipulative aftercare
A/N: minors dni. this was supposed to be a short drabble idk what happened. anyways, angry caleb with a nosebleed anyone?
ao3 mirror.
“You always do this, gege!” you whine, and Caleb thinks you look breathtaking as always, but especially so with the way tears of frustration bead at your lashline and how that damned pout of yours makes his cock stir.
The restraint it took to not ravage you right then and there almost makes him want to groan.
Instead, a slight frown tugs at his lips as he looks down at you.
“He’s no good for you, pips. Why do you always go for the shitheads?” And why won’t you ever look at me the way you do at them?
You looked as if a scream was about to tear itself from your throat.
“Who are you to tell me who’s good for me or not?!” your voice was rising to a dangerous volume, and Caleb was glad grandma wasn’t home.
“I’m not your girlfriend!”
“You may not be,” Caleb grits through his teeth, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t look out for you.” The way a good boyfriend would do.
At this point, the tears that were welling up in your eyes now fell freely and slid down your cheeks. It broke Caleb’s heart that he was the one making you cry, and a flash of regret might’ve flickered across his face, but you were too busy wiping your sleeve against your eyes to notice.
“You need to understand that not every boy will have your best interests at heart,” Caleb goes on to say softly, but his disapproval still remains weaved within his words, “trust me on this.”
You slowly lower your arm from your face to glare at him from below your lashes as betrayal is written plainly on your features.
“Then why were you snooping through my phone, Caleb?”
His face pales.
“Pips, it’s not like—“
You cut him off with your quiet tone and unwavering gaze.
“You were the one who violated my trust in you, and you dare to tell me to trust you when you go so far as to look through my messages? Not only that, but you also deliberately found out my boyfriend’s address just so you could threaten him? What, did you really think I wouldn’t know? What’s wrong with you?”
Caleb’s eyes were downcast, his frown beginning to quirk up into an infuriating small smile.
“So, you’ve got me there,” he replies with a leveled voice, sunset eyes going on to peer at you as the most punchable expression you’ve ever seen him wear makes your insides boil and simmer with anger.
“Aren’t I pathetic?”
It was as if the fractured lines within you finally gave way as something snapped, and you reeled your clenched fist back before connecting it firmly against his nose. You didn’t even register that you did it until you spot the red seeping from his nostril.
Not expecting your violent retaliation, he had stumbled a step backwards, eyes widened in shock as he looked at your just as shocked face, to the now bloodied hand he had just used to touch his now broken nose, then back to your face.
You watch in abject terror as you see the surprise morph to hurt in his eyes, then to how it darkens like a storm cloud; the calm before the downpour of a quiet fury you’ve never seen him direct towards you now settled onto your frozen form.
With a vice grip like unyielding iron, Caleb drags you screeching by the wrist up the stairs.
“I-I… I didn’t mean to—! Gege, that hurts, stop—!“
Your frantic stammering does nothing to deter him from shoving you hard onto his bed as he closes the door behind him with a jarring softness.
“Do you know,” he begins lowly, “how many times I have let you off the hook?”
Words seemed to be lodged somewhere between fear and your throat. All you could muster in response was a tiny nod.
“How many times I have been nothing but a good brother to you?”
As he talks, he slowly approaches you, feet stopping right before the foot of his bed.
You crawl backwards out of fear until you reach his headboard.
“You’re not getting away scotch-free this time, no,” he barks out a laugh before he’s on the bed inching closer to you.
“You’re going to be punished, and you’re going to see just how mean gege can get.”
“Caleb, let me go! I’m sorry!”
He shakes his head. “It’s too late for sorries.”
With ease, he yanks you down by the ankles; then, in a flash he pins your wrists above your head.
The blood from his nose drips onto your face as his hovers above yours, its metallic taste meeting your tongue as it dribbles into your agape mouth.
It tasted like the beginning of the end, like a jigsaw puzzle falling apart, like the pieces of it will never be able to be connected the way they once were ever again.
Then, your eyes travel down his body to see the tented up fabric of his jeans. Your eyes widen— part trepidation, part incredulity.
“Are you seriously hard from—“
Before you could finish your sentence, his crimson-stained lips crashed against yours, the taste of his blood becoming ever more omnipresent to you.
He growls into the kiss as you squirm around beneath him. Your whimpers were muffled before being silenced by his tongue wrestling against yours.
Why was heat flaring up within your core? Were you… liking this as much as he was?
After a moment, he pulls back, a string of shared saliva stretching from his lips to yours. He looks at you with an indiscernible look in his eye before going to sit at the side of the bed.
Without the tenderness that usually accompanied his words, he sharply demands:
“Get up. Strip and lay across my lap.”
“Caleb, I don’t think we should be doing this.”
His steeled stare doesn’t budge from you. “That wasn’t a question.”
Biting at your lip, you do as you’re told; you shrug off your top, then slip out of your shorts and panties.
“No bra?” Caleb’s breath hitches in his throat. “You want to be ogled at by men, don’t you?”
He doesn’t wait for your reply before he impatiently jerks you towards him by the hand. You get the memo and sprawl yourself down onto his lap.
A large hand deceivingly trails up the back of your thigh to the flesh of your bare ass.
”Count.”
Without waiting for your reaction, that same large hand was mercilessly and swiftly raised in the air before striking you on the left asscheek. A loud yelp leaves you.
“O-One,” you begin.
Your stepbrother wordlessly raises his hand again. The palm of it meets your skin once more, and another cry falls off your lips.
”Two!”
Deceptively, Caleb’s palm caresses your reddening behind. But what relief it provided was short-lived as it was struck against the meat of your ass again.
”Three,” you sob out with a hiccup, jolting slightly in his grasp. Your gaze remains on the carpeted floor as heat not only rises to your asscheeks, but also to the ones on your face. You were a tad curious what expression he was sporting right now, but knew better than to look.
”Four.” Tears of humiliation well up in your eyes this time.
”Keep moving around so much and we’ll start again from zero,” comes Caleb’s flat voice devoid of any joviality that you were so used to hearing from him.
You try to give him a small nod in acknowledgement amidst your breathy whimpers, but Caleb tuts in dissatisfaction while pinching the fat of your ass hard enough for you to shriek “yes gege!”
As the fifth spanking lands, your tears were now streaking down your flushed cheeks and your voice began to wobble while continuing to count.
”N-Nine…”
If only you were able to see the hardened yet pitying expression on his face.
But bad girls needed to be punished, and you were no exception to the rule.
Two fingertips dance along your slit, now coated in your slick— Caleb quirks a brow, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.
”What’s this? Are you seriously wet from this, pipsqueak?”
Your ears burn red at him using your own words against you from earlier; your immediate reaction was to deny it, but he had already made it clear that he was onto you and the way you actually enjoyed this with your stepbrother of all people.
An impatient resounding slap echoes when it meets its mark and you hiss in pain. “I asked you a question,” he chides.
You bite your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.
”Oh? So it’s like that, huh.”
Smack!
That last one hurt more than any of the others, evident through how you wail out his name.
”I didn’t tell you to stop counting either.” Caleb’s tone was resolute and pertinacious.
”Ten!” you cry out, “yes I am, sir!”
”Yes, you are what?”
A beat passes before you think twice about ignoring his questions again.
”I’m wet because of you, gege!”
“God, you’re soaked,” he muttered, almost reverently. You wanted so badly to deny it, but when you’re rewarded by his long digits dipping within your folds, the shameful slickness there told the truth for you. You couldn’t help the embarrassingly lewd mewl that escapes you at how the two of them easily slide in with the help of your natural lubrication.
”Now was that so, so hard?” Caleb rhetorically asks as you squirm around atop his lap. You can feel his neglected bulge poke your stomach with every motion you make.
His deft fingers curl upwards to repeatedly stroke your walls, eliciting another drawn out moan from you as they directly make contact with your g-spot. The obscene squelching noises resulting from it cause you to squeeze your eyes shut in burning shame.
”Look at me,” he orders.
You oblige by turning your head with a sniffle. By now the blood from his nosebleed had dried up, the fading red stripe from his nostril down to his shirt reminding you of your monumental mistake.
When your tear-stained face peers up at him, something in his stare softens, but only by a small margin. He hated to see you cry—always had ever since you would bruise your knees at the playground when you two were little—but he knew this was necessary to make amends for your misstep out of line.
Actions never fail to have consequences, as you would come to thoroughly learn.
”There’s my girl,” he says with a slight quirk of his lips, “y’know, I’ve always wondered how you would scream my name and come undone by my touch. Not like this, however.”
You stay silent, unsure of how to proceed with this conversation. You also did not want to incur more of his wrath by saying the wrong thing.
Much to your relief, he continues it for you by sighing and issuing another command.
”Sit up.”
Obediently, you straighten yourself up on his lap, wincing as the sore flesh of your ass chafed against the rough material of his jeans. You wrap your legs around his midsection before burying your face into his chest.
And then it was like the dam broke, the brunt of your mixed emotions surfacing and coalescing into more intense, body-wracking sobs. You unreservedly snivel into his shirt as you shed more and more tears.
His arms tighten around you when he notices your smaller form begin to quiver like a leaf in the wind. Only when he realizes you’re speaking does he relax his hold while leaning back to hear you more clearly.
”I’m s-sorry,” you babble, your words tumbling out one after another while being intermittently punctuated by hiccups, “it was spur of the moment, I’m sorry for hurting you Caleb, you didn’t deserve that…”
Your beloved gege cups your face in his large hands, the pads of his thumbs brushing sweetly against the wet skin underneath your eyes; the very same pair of eyes he swears will be his downfall one day.
He rocks you both with a gentle back-and-forth movement, shushing you in an attempt to soothe you as the hand splayed against your back rubs mollifying circles into the skin there.
Even as he cradles you, you can feel it— how he wasn’t comforting you to exactly make you feel safe. He comforts you to remind you: you belong to him.
“Gege’s here. You’re safe with me— safe from yourself, too. You just don’t know it yet.”
It felt safe. But only because he’d made everywhere else unsafe.
Caleb holds you without another word until you tire yourself out from your weeping. As you succumb to sleep within his arms, he carefully lays your head against his pillows before fetching a throw blanket nearby to drape over your peacefully slumbering frame.
For a long while, he sits and watches as your chest slowly rises up and down with every shallow breath you take. He tenderly moves the stray strands of hair away from your serene countenance.
Finally, he gets up to go to change shirts before going to the bathroom. He stares at his reflection with a hand raised to lightly trace the crusted trail of blood that extends from his nose, down to his chin.
Seeing the aftermath before him made it all so much more real to him— he also couldn’t help the small laugh he had to himself. He knew he had taught his little sister how to throw a good punch well, so naturally she got him so good he was sure his nose was definitely broken.
But, one little punch wasn’t enough to deter him from exterminating the latest pest in his and her life.
One day you’d understand. Of that, Caleb was certain of.
He fishes his phone out of his jean pocket to swipe it open. Then, he navigates to his notes app where your boyfriend’s address is laid in waiting for him.
459 Twilight Boulevard.
Quietly so as to not disturb you, Caleb gets up to pluck his gun from the drawer of his nightstand. He leans down to give you a light kiss against your forehead, to which you adorably crinkle your nose in your sleep.
He chuckles, the sound ominous amidst your innocent breathing.
”I’ll be right back, pipsqueak. Gege has some business to take care of.”
Summarized: You reject your bully’s confession, he doesn’t take it lightly. (Dubcon/noncon)
You didn’t think of anything when your bully dragged you in to the men’s gym dressing room, you’ve grown used to it and fighting back is psychically impossible for you anyway.
But this time instead of threatening you about making his homework, he had something else in mind.
“I like you y/n” he forced a smile, but it horribly turned into his usual smug, cocky grin instead.
Your lips parted. No way.
A weak, mealy voice slipped out of you, “what..?”
“You heard me.” His brow furrowed, also showing clear annoyance in his tone.
Your mind went blank.
“How many times do I have to tell you” he leaned in, towering over you as he tapped on your forehead with his index finger “I fucking love you, dumbass.”
“Now say it back.” His words snapped you back to reality.
“I— I don’t… uhmm” you slowly backed away as you scanned the area for your classmates, anyone.
no one, besides the two of you and the fancy bouquet laying on the floor.
“Go on.” His voice dropped lower.
“I don’t love you.” Your words had caught you both in surprise as you tucked your shaky hands behind your back.
He paused before letting out a faint chuckle while he dramatically clapped “look who is acting all tough, you little whimp.”
Your stomach flipped.
“That’s not what I asked.” He pushed you lightly making you stumble backwards, to taunt you.
With no avail he grew irritated, he pushed you harder this time, slamming your back against his locker “Repeat after me, I. love. you. too.”
In the brink of tears you did what he asked— anything to make him leave you alone. “I- I lowe y— I love you too!”
He grinned uncontrollably, the sight of your teary eyes gets him so fucking hard, so damn cute. “Now gimme a kiss”
Your first kiss with him? To hell! Yet you couldn’t make yourself to move away.
“Cmere” he groaned as he pulled you up closer to his face, making your heart go crazy.
Now forcefully on your tippy toes and with no other option, you reluctantly gave him a peck on his cheeks.
“I know you can do more than that, cmon” He gently held his hand on the back of your head, keeping your head in place as he roughly kissed you.
He had been yearning for this day to come.
_______________________________________________
ALSO THANK YOUU SO MUCH for the generous complimentrr
You hated family vacations, but this one genuinely seemed to be one of the worst ones in a long time. Of course your parents got themselves the huge suite at the beach resort you were staying at. Of course they booked your room too late so there was only one room left available for you and your brother. And of fucking course, as if it couldn't get any worse, there was only one bed in the room.
Your brother comes out of the bathroom, toothbrush in mouth, wearing black sweatpants that hung low below his naked chest. You look up at him briefly, not wanting to stare as to not provoke him. Ever since he started going to the gym, he's been much more physical with you. If you reach over for the remote to change the channel he's watching, he's wrestling you to the ground and forcing you to say sorry. When you refused to give him the last cookie you spent hours making, he picked you up and squeezed your waist so hard you couldn't breathe. He kept going until you tapped out and gave him the cookie. He was growing a huge ego, and there was no way you were going to inflate it.
You put up pillows as a divider on the bed; you were not going to let that asshole push you to the edge of the bed while he sprawled his huge body out.
He cocks his head. "What are you doing?"
"Putting up a divider. Stay on your side, please. This bed is small enough as it is." You try to sound sweet, but you don't think it's working because his eyes narrow and darken. Fuck.
When he goes back into the bathroom, you quickly crawl under the duvet. You need to sleep as soon as possible. When the bed dips from the weight of him, you've already entered dreamland.
Hours later, you're awoken by gentle murmurs, weight, and heat you're not accustomed to. You see the pillow divider you put up thrown carelessly on the ground. Your eyes shut close when you realize his fingers are grazing dangerously close to your breast, his fingertips daring to touch closer to your nipple. Your back is warm from the heat of his chest and his arm is loosely slung under and around your neck.
"Sissy, why don't you want to be close to me anymore? I want to touch you." He whispers as he talks to himself -- a bad habit our parents have been trying to break.
He continues to rub your breast until he finally has the courage to cup it. He squeezes lightly as if hesitant, but this is soon replaced by full on kneading. You close your eyes tighter and try to control your breathing; he cannot know you're awake.
"You used to love when I touched you. Did you forget or do you just not love me anymore?" His caresses become more aggressive as he continues rambling.
"You love me. You love my touch. You just won't admit it." His tongue drags a wet line from your shoulder blade to the beginning of your jawline. "You loved when I tickled and cuddled you as kids. I'll make you remember, even in your sleep."
And then you feel it. His growing cock rests on your ass, demanding attention. Your jaw clenches, hating the way you can feel your undeniable wetness pouring out of your pussy. His hips start to grind against your ass, and you regret wearing your thin sleep shorts.
"You love me. You love me. You fucking love me. You have to love me." His words repeat over and over like a prayer as his hips move faster. Your cheeks redden and it takes everything you have not to move or moan. His hand clamps on your breast like a vice.
"I'll make you love me. Nngh. I'll make you, fuck, remember. You'll be begging for me. You love me. Mmm. Tell me you do." His words are clipped by quiet moans and groans until finally his hips still and you feel something wet on your back.
Your eyes water, but you don't know whether it's from the humiliation he just put you through or the fact that you're so wet that your sleep shorts are soaked through.
Then he gets up, picks up the pillows on the floor, and arranges them as the divider between the two of you. He rolls away, his back facing you. It was like nothing ever happened. Yeah, nothing ever happened.
pt. 2 here
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hello this is my first post :) i've also never written smut or anything of this nature before, so i'm using this blog to practice. thanks for reading.
Warning: yandere behaviors oncoming please read at your own risk. Minors DNI this ain’t for ya
My little Sugu-princess
Being the little sister of The Satoru Gojo and a member of the prestigious Gojo clan was one thing.
Life in one of the great clans wasn’t as easy as it seemed. The expectations were towering, endless, and often suffocating. You weren’t necessarily weak—far from it—though you certainly didn’t measure up to your older brother.
Suffice it to say, you faced a significant amount of criticism from the elders and your family. It didn’t help that you and Satoru were so close in age—only two years apart—or that you bore such a striking resemblance to him, with your stark white hair and vivid blue eyes.
No—the family’s disappointment in the skill gap between you and your brother was painfully obvious, and they made no effort to hide it.
Their disapproval only made it easier for them to try and treat you as though you were lesser.
Keyword: tried.
Having ‘Toru as your big brother, however, was an entirely different experience.
From the moment his mother introduced you to him—the tiny, white-haired, blue-eyed baby swaddled in her arms—he was captivated. Utterly fascinated by the idea of being a big brother, even if he had no clue what that actually meant.
As the two of you grew older, it all clicked into place.
Satoru couldn’t get enough of you. His cute little sister, his perfect look alike. He never hesitated to shower you with attention, and he made no effort to hide his blatant favoritism.
Where others saw weakness or disappointment, Satoru saw someone precious. Someone who was his, and his alone.
You were largely harassed by your family and the clan members, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint when it all began. What you did know was that it was constant, relentless. You’d never forget the way the maids would shoot you nasty glares before scuttling off, or the way you were often harshly scolded for being “too loud” when wandering through the clan house.
And then there was your mother, whose gaze had once been so warm and soft, now replaced by cold indifference.
It was a loneliness you felt more deeply than you cared to admit.
Satoru, of course, picked up on the way you had started retreating into yourself. And he couldn’t stand it.
He began sticking to you like a second shadow, refusing to leave your side for long. Whether it was spending more time with you or dragging you along on one of his whims, he made it his mission to ensure you were never alone.
When that wasn’t enough, he didn’t hesitate to make his point with the elders, the family, or anyone else who dared to mistreat you. If protective was the word people used to describe him, it was an understatement.
But could you blame him?
How could he sit back and stay silent while his adorable little sister was harassed by a bunch of bitter old geezers—or worse, by the maids who should’ve known their place? Satoru wasn’t one to let things slide, not when it came to you.
And he was always there for you.
Always on your side, always finding a way to lessen that crushing loneliness. It was hard to feel bitter about your situation when you had him—your constant, your protector, your big brother who refused to let the world break you.
And deep down, you couldn’t say you didn’t know why they treated you the way they did. You were weaker than Satoru, much weaker. And to the clan, that would have been bad enough. But you had committed another, even graver sin in their eyes.
You had been born the wrong sex.
No—you didn’t come close to meeting their lofty standards—not by a long shot. And Satoru clung to you throughout your childhood, shielding you from most of the harsh words and even harsher punishments they hurled your way.
But as he grew older, Satoru began to understand his position more clearly—the privileges and power that came with being the sole heir of the Gojo clan. The strongest sorcerer in the world, blessed with both the Limitless Cursed Technique and the fabled Six Eyes.
And he was fed up.
That was how he found himself face-to-face with the current head of the clan, confronting the source of your undeserved bad reputation.
“Your responsibility? Ha! Don’t make me laugh,” Satoru sneered, his voice thick with venom. “You’ve done nothing but treat her like garbage since she was four. A bunch of hypocrites, every last one of you.”
The Clan Head’s brow furrowed, his attempt at authority wavering under the weight of Satoru’s words.
“Satoru, you’re being unreasonable. She needs to know her place in the clan—”
“Unreasonable?”
Resentment flared in his striking blue eyes, the intensity of his stare enough to freeze the room. His cursed energy seeped from every pore, enveloping the space in an oppressive, suffocating weight. The silence was deafening.
Satoru didn’t care. He wanted the old man to fear him. No, more than that—he needed him to feel the full brunt of his hatred, the loathing that burned in every fiber of his being.
“Me? Unreasonable?” His voice dropped, cold and cutting. He stepped forward, each word sharp as a blade. “Let me make this crystal clear: From now on, my sister will be under my care. None of you will approach her, scold her, teach her—anything.”
His gaze locked onto the Clan Head, sharp and unrelenting. Despite his youth, Satoru carried an authority that left no room for argument. The unspoken threat in his eyes was impossible to miss.
I’m stronger than you, old man.
The Clan Head faltered, the weight of Satoru’s presence pressing down on him. He opened his mouth as if to argue but stopped, his resolve crumbling under the oppressive force radiating from the boy before him.
And with that, the argument ended.
The decision was made: your care was officially placed in Satoru’s hands.
From that moment on, Satoru refused to let anyone exert authority over you. Not the elders, not the maids, not even your own mother dared to interfere. His word became law where you were concerned, and he enforced it with unwavering resolve.
But while his victory granted you the protection you so desperately needed, it came with a price. No one in the clan was willing to challenge Satoru’s authority, and as a result, they chose to ignore you entirely.
For years, Satoru was your guard dog, your protector, your one and only ally. He was always there—shielding you from the harshness of the clan and the indifference of the world. But soon enough, the day came when he had to leave for school.
And soon enough, he wouldn’t be there for you.
Not in the way you needed him.
For the first time, you’d have to face the world without him by your side.
The thought haunted Satoru. Desperation to ensure your happiness and safety gnawed at him, even at the expense of his own reputation. His behavior became increasingly erratic—snapping at anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way and clinging to you like a stubborn child who refused to let go.
No matter how protective or affectionate he was, the growing anxiety inside him never faded. If anything, his fear of leaving you only made him more attached. He hovered constantly, watching over you with the intensity of someone who knew he was running out of time.
In quieter moments, he even entertained the idea of taking you with him. What if I just brought her along? It wasn’t impossible, was it?
But deep down, he knew that wasn’t the answer.
“Toru,” you called, your voice playful and lilting, “are you excited to be going to school soon?”
Without waiting for an answer, you leapt onto his back, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck with a cheeky grin. Satoru stumbled slightly but quickly recovered, his instincts sharp even with his Infinity kept off—a deliberate choice he made around you. He knew how much you loved ambushing him with your “surprise attacks,” and he’d never deny you that joy.
You had always been with him, and he had always been with you. The thought of being apart for the first time was unsettling, almost unthinkable—for both of you.
Satoru’s playful demeanor masked the worry simmering just beneath the surface. He knew how much his absence could affect you.
Loneliness was his greatest fear for you, knowing how deeply you relied on him for comfort and connection. But even more than that, the idea of the clan taking advantage of his absence made his blood boil.
He would never forgive himself if they hurt you while he was gone.
He chuckled softly at your antics, adjusting you on his back as he strolled through the garden. Your feet swung back and forth lazily, brushing against his sides, but he didn’t mind. He’d been on his way to yet another pointless training session, but with his departure looming, spending time with you felt far more important.
Satoru ignored your question, choosing not to answer. He knew that whatever he said might dampen your excitement or make you sad, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that. Instead, he let the silence settle between you, though it weighed heavily on his mind.
This might be the last time he’d hear your cheerful voice calling out to him until summer break. The thought lingered, bittersweet, as he carried you a little further, savoring the moment for as long as he could.
Finally, he spoke, breaking the tension with a forced cheerfulness. “We’ve got to do something fun before I leave!” His voice wavered slightly, softening as the emotion he’d been holding back began to seep through. “I’m gonna miss you so much, imouto.”
You tightened your arms around him, burying your face into his shoulder. Neither of you spoke for a moment, letting the weight of his words linger.
Then, the day finally came.
Satoru was leaving for high school. The idea of staying in the dorms, away from the suffocating halls of the clan house, sounded like pure heaven. Freedom, independence, a chance to live on his own terms—it was everything he’d dreamed of.
But leaving you behind? That was an entirely different kind of pain.
He hated the thought of you being alone in that cold, unfeeling house. He’d already made up his mind, though. When the time came for you to join him in high school, he would find a place for the two of you. Somewhere far away from the clan house. Maybe a little apartment near the beach, within train distance of the school. A place where you could finally breathe, free from the expectations and judgment of the clan.
Two years.
He could wait two years.
You missed Toru like crazy after he left. The future summers never seemed to come fast enough, and when they finally did, they never lasted long enough.
His absence left a void in the clan house, one that was difficult to ignore. Yet, in a strange way, it worked in your favor. With Satoru gone, no one paid you any attention. The sharp criticisms, the constant scoldings, and the disapproving glares—all of it stopped. You were left alone, ignored.
And while the loneliness stung, you didn’t mind the peace.
In that newfound quiet, you turned your focus inward. Day after day, you practiced your cursed technique, working tirelessly to ensure you wouldn’t be an embarrassment when it was finally your turn to join him. Your older brother was so strong, so effortlessly cool—everything you aspired to be. You wanted to make him proud, to prove that you were worthy of standing next to him.
When summer finally arrived and Satoru came home, you couldn’t help but notice the change in him. He seemed lighter, freer. Being away from the stifling walls of the clan house had done wonders for him, and his happiness was undeniable.
It made you happy to see him like that. But in some small, selfish way, it also made you sad.
He had found a kind of peace you still couldn’t grasp, and though you were thrilled to have him back, it reminded you of just how far away that freedom felt for you.
Eager to show him how much you’d grown, you demonstrated the progress you’d made in your cursed technique. His reaction didn’t disappoint, showering you with endless praise.
“You’re amazing, imouto! You’ve come so far!” Satoru beamed with pride, ruffling your hair affectionately.
Moments like these reminded you why you worked so hard. No matter how much time passed, no matter how far apart you were, your big brother’s approval was worth everything.
Later that evening, as the two of you lounged in the garden, Satoru told you stories about his time at school. He told you all about the friends he’d made, particularly someone named Suguru Geto.
The way he talked about Suguru—with a fondness you rarely heard from him—sparked a tiny flicker of jealousy in you, though you’d never admit it out loud.
At the time, you didn’t think much about what he said, but it intrigued you all the same. Satoru had never spoken so warmly about anyone other than you.
It made you eager to start high school yourself. To make your own friends, form your own memories. You had spent so much of your life confined to the Gojo estate, rarely allowed out of the manor, let alone given the chance to interact with others.
Most of that isolation, though unintentional, had been orchestrated by Satoru himself. He’d always insisted it was too dangerous for you to roam the streets the way he did. “It’s different for me,” he’d say confidently, brushing off your protests. “But you? I can’t risk it, imouto.”
Still, you couldn’t help but wonder. What would it be like to step into the world? To meet people your age? What kind of friendships could you form?
Would you even know how to talk to someone your age?
The few people you had interacted with so far were either indifferent to you or outright hostile. The thought of venturing into something new—meeting new people, creating your own memories—was both thrilling and...terrifying.
Despite your curiosity, one thing remained certain: no one could ever be better than your big brother.
You’d told him that countless times, a truth you held onto tightly. And every time you said it, it only served to inflate his already massive ego. Not that you noticed—or cared. To you, it wasn’t flattery; it was just the simple truth.
Satoru truly was the best big brother. No one else could compare.
And just like that, two years flew by. Before you knew it, you were finally enrolled at Jujutsu Tech, stepping outside the high fences of the estate for the first time in what felt like forever.
To say you were ecstatic would be a gross understatement.
This time, you weren’t staying behind—you were leaving with him. You’d finally get to see the campus he’d told you so much about, the place that had seemed like a distant dream during those long, lonely years.
It felt almost surreal how easily it had all come together. Automatic enrollment, all thanks to being Satoru Gojo’s little sister. His recommendation alone carried immeasurable weight, and his unparalleled influence in the jujutsu world sealed the deal without question.
The ride to the school felt like an eternity, your excitement bubbling over as the car rolled to a stop in front of the campus gates. Stepping out, you found yourself momentarily awestruck by the sight before you.
A heavily wooded temple stood at the heart of the campus, surrounded by lush gardens that seemed to stretch endlessly. The serene beauty of the place was breathtaking, far beyond anything your brother’s words had prepared you for. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant hum of cicadas, and the faint scent of earth and greenery created an atmosphere so calm, so peaceful, that it felt like a world away from the stifling halls of the Gojo estate.
Satoru nudged you forward, his excited chatter flying over your head as you took in the sights. He led the way toward the dorms, and though the two of you would be in different classes, the thought of being here—together—was enough to keep your spirits high.
At least now, you weren’t stuck in that damn house.
Settling into the dorms was surprisingly easy. The room you were assigned was slightly smaller than the one you’d had back home, but it was cozy and comfortable. Most of your belongings had been delivered ahead of time, neatly arranged and waiting for you.
What struck you as strange, though, was the emptiness. The hallways were eerily quiet, and you couldn’t spot another girl in sight. It made the space feel… unsettling.
“Not many students enroll,” Satoru had mentioned, brushing off your concerns like it was no big deal. And maybe it wasn’t—to him. But you couldn’t help feeling a little nervous.
This was your first real step into the outside world, and though you had Satoru by your side, the unfamiliarity of it all was both thrilling and unnerving.
Meeting your new classmates was… interesting. There were two other first-years joining you, both boys. Still no girls? You tried not to let it bother you, but it felt a little strange.
They seemed nice enough, but you couldn’t ignore the way they looked at you when you first met—as if you were some rare specimen to be observed. Not surprising, given that Satoru had no doubt made a name for himself on campus.
Kai, the taller of the two, was the first to speak. He circled you with a casual, almost lazy air, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “You a Gojo?” he asked, his tone light but curious. “Yeah, you definitely fit the look.”
You instinctively took a small step back, unsure how to respond. The question seemed so obvious it made you want to roll your eyes and say duh. Was it the hair? The eyes? Those features practically screamed Gojo, so what was the point of the interrogation?
Kazuo, the shorter of the two, spoke next. “What’s your cursed technique like?” he asked, his wide eyes filled with excitement. Cute, you thought absently. Though, definitely not cuter than your big brother.
Despite your lack of social experience, the conversation began to flow more easily than you expected. Kai and Kazuo seemed easygoing, and before long, you found yourself relaxing around them. It felt like the beginning of a solid friendship, and you felt genuinely excited to start classes.
And then you ran into Satoru.
“Toru!” you called out, your face lighting up as you spotted his tall, lanky form in the courtyard. His back was to you, and he seemed deep in conversation with a small group of students. Smirking to yourself, you prepared another one of your “surprise attacks.”
With a playful leap, you pounced on him, causing him to stumble forward slightly before easily catching his balance. Spinning around, he grinned widely, his excitement obvious as he set you down.
“Well, look who it is!” he said, ruffling your hair with a playful grin. He seemed just as thrilled to see you, though it didn’t take long before he quickly pulled you over to his friends.
Turning back to the group, his tone brimmed with pride. “Guys, this is my little sister!” he announced, gently nudging you forward to stand in front of the two upperclassmen with him.
The girl stepped forward first, her warm caramel-colored hair matching the kindness in her eyes. She introduced herself, and you recognized her name immediately—she was the healer your brother had mentioned. She was even prettier than you’d imagined, exuding a calm, friendly energy.
The boy, on the other hand, was an entirely different presence. He stood nearly as tall as your brother, but where Satoru radiated lighthearted energy, this boy was all sharp edges and quiet intensity. His black hair was tied back in a neat bun, and his dark purple eyes seemed to pierce straight through you, observing your every move.
You knew who he was instantly.
Satoru had spent hours talking about him, and now, face-to-face, you understood why.
Suguru Geto.
And, honestly? You could immediately see why your brother admired him so much.
He was pretty damn handsome.
He was everything your brother wasn’t—where Satoru was soft, Suguru was hard. Where Satoru was bright, Suguru was dark.
And did you mention he was incredibly handsome.
Your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, you froze. His steady, piercing gaze seemed to root you in place, leaving you completely flustered.
“Hey! Hellooo?” Satoru’s voice snapped you out of your daze. Your face flushed hot as you realized you’d been staring.
“Aww, Suguru!” Satoru cooed, his voice dripping with exaggerated delight. “Looks like my lil’ sister’s got a crushy-wushy on you!”
Before you could respond, he grabbed your cheeks and squished them together, leaving you flustered and fuming.
“Shut up, Toru!” you yelled, your voice muffled and your face burning as you swatted at him, trying to pry yourself free.
Your attempts to smack him only made him laugh harder. He threw up his Infinity, keeping you at arm’s length as he continued his merciless teasing. “Aw, look how cute you are! Blushing so much! Suguru, isn’t she adorable?”
You shouted in protest, smacking at the invisible barrier, completely oblivious to the reactions of the two upperclassmen.
Suguru watched you with quiet amusement, his gaze softening just slightly, while the girl giggled under her breath. You hadn’t noticed their stares, too busy plotting ways to throttle your brother once he lowered his Infinity.
Suguru couldn’t peel his eyes away from you.
When Satoru had mentioned his little sister, he’d described a small child—someone he imagined tagging along like a baby duckling. What he hadn’t expected was… you.
Your white hair was styled in a neat half-up, half-down look, accentuating blue eyes that rivaled even your brother’s show stopping gaze. And your features? Sharp yet delicate, striking enough to put a model to shame.
Of course, you were a Gojo. It only made sense.
Still, Suguru found himself taken aback. If he had to describe you, you were like a lovelier, softer version of Satoru. The thought amused him briefly. If only Satoru wasn’t so obnoxiously irritating.
He caught himself silently hoping you didn’t share your brother’s personality.
What exactly had he expected when Satoru said his “baby sister” would be joining them this year? Certainly not someone who could knock the air out of a room just by walking into it.
Satoru’s relentless teasing snapped Suguru out of his thoughts.
“Satoru, enough teasing. You’re going to make her cry,” Suguru quipped, his tone carrying a playful edge as he poked at his best friend’s side.
“‘M not gonna cry!” you screeched, voice cracking slightly as you flushed a deep crimson. Your cheeks and ears were burning, and Suguru could tell you were teetering on the edge of tears—whether from embarrassment or frustration, he wasn’t sure.
The automatic thought that popped into his mind caught him off guard. Pretty.
He cleared his throat, brushing the thought aside, though his lips twitched upward at your flustered expression.
Satoru barked out a laugh, and Suguru couldn’t help but join him, their laughter ringing out as you continued to swat futilely at your brother’s Infinity.
p.2
come home
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
cw: explicit, creampie, having a horny ovulating gf is…not for the weak and Toji finds out the hard way.
Toji’s the type who prides himself on his stamina—he’s built like a tank from years of mercenary work and raw physical conditioning, so he can usually go hard for multiple rounds without much complaint. But when he’s truly worn the fuck out—maybe after a long job, or you’ve already milked him through 3-4 rounds…
“You tryna kill me, huh?” Scars across his torso glistening, abs still twitching. You push your hips back anyway, feeling the wet slide of him. His hand immediately clamps down on your hip—“Don’t,” he warns, “I’m tapped, baby. You already squeezed every drop outta me.”
But he doesn’t pull out as you reach back, fingers finding the thick base of him where you’re joined, stroking what’s left exposed. He twitches inside you instantly, a helpless little jerk despite how overstimulated he is.
“Easy—shit, too much,” he muttered, head falling back, but he didn’t stop you. “You really want another one that bad?”
You nod against the pillow, voice small. “Please, Toji… just one more. Need to feel you again.”
He groans like you physically hurt him. Drops his forehead to the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “My fuckin’ horny girl,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Already fucked you through four loads and you’re still wantin’ more.”
He shifts bracing his one thick forearm beside your head so he can lever himself up just enough to change the angle. The other arm snakes under you, hooking around your waist to keep you pinned as his hips begin to roll forward in lazy shallow grinds. Stirring himself inside you, letting the friction build in torturously small increments.
You’re whimpering into the sheets now, thighs trembling, cunt fluttering around him like it’s trying to pull another orgasm out of his empty balls.
Toji’s rhythm stutters. His breathing turns ragged, almost panicked. “Fuck—fuck, I can’t—gonna—” He slams in one last time, and just… stays there.
“You happy now?”
You nod, dazed, smiling stupidly into the pillow.
“Good. ‘Cause that’s it. I’m done. You try for another one and I swear to god I’m tappin’ out, tyin’ you up, and sleepin’ for sixteen hours while you cockwarm my dead dick.”
a/n: No bc imagine another round? And another? maybe one more?
tangentwithtanner
andulkaphoto
vaporwave
janainaart
jacobvanloon
