dddyprv

[dddyprv]

[dddyprv]

[dddyprv]

Your girl loves to cop for you.

[dddyprv]

pathetically whining “dad can you help me?” when you come to tuck me in & find me spread out & touching myself & frustrated because my fingers just don’t feel as good as yours

[dddyprv]

RAW-MANCE!

Synopsis. First time he can’t pull out = first time he’s losing his mind.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, not pulling out, FÉRAL men, creampíes, heats (Choso), knots, squírting, running from it, he’s BIG, matíng presses, making it fit, true form Sukuna, dp, ínnapropríate use of jujutsu, cúmplay, overstím, jealousy (Nanami’s side), they get REALLY pússydrúnk, pull out game WEAK, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. AIpha Tony just started her shark week, F

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Tight fit!

“Toji, why are you so big- oh.”

Your tear-glazed eyes scrunch closed at the force of one of his roughened palms pressing down on your tummy. Jade eyes widening, gruff breath hitching- “C-can feel myself from the outside, doll.” 

Voice breathy like even he couldn’t believe it. 

He’s hypnotized. That bumpy bulge only makes him plug up more of your entrance with his red, weeping tip, he’s furiously pushing and pushing against that snug resistance from behind. “M’big, she’s tight.”

So feverishly hot, so stuffed- the only thing you can do is thrash your weakened legs against the dampening mattress, “I kn-know that- hck! But what if you’re too-”

“Too big?” Toji’s cutting you off with a roll of his dilated pupils, “Well duh- m’gonna make it fit, silly girl. The only problem will be…” Broad chest shuddering as one of his hands wrap ‘round his swollen hilt with a squelch! “-whether I’ll be able to pull out.”

And oh…he knew he was playing a dangerous game.

Because it was a joke- really, it was a joke to make your cute, split-slicked lips fall into his favorite lil’ ‘oh!’ 

But fuck- if the very second those thick, rasping words depart from his scarred lips, Toji’s chiseled body didn’t buck.

Without him planning it, without even realizing until a singular, sopping thrust rams his bulging inches into you thoroughly- the sudden warmth of your dewy insides making the hulking man gasp.

“Oh, fuck- oh, fuck.” Panting out a shocked breath, the edges of his raven lashes tickle his cheeks as he’s blinking them urgently. Trying to clear his vision, trying to clear his damn mind. “Yer sucking me up s-so much I can barely even move-”

Experimentally, he’s reeling backwards and watching as your maw sags further open. Your pretty gaze turning all cross-eyed and misty, “Oh please- ngh i-it feels so good, Toji.”

He didn’t even have to try. 

Simply massaging your gummy walls with the winding curves of his veins, they’re so damn thick that you can feel him scraping just below your g-spot. Filling out every tiny crevice and nook inside of you with his meaty cock. 

“Oh yeah? T-tight little thing ya are. Sooo fucking tight, mama.” Sinking the sharp points of his canines into his lower lip, Toji’s forced to cling into your hips with one hand in order to sensually ease himself in and out. 

Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing greedily, “O-oooone…” He’s babbling out, teasingly letting the plump ridge of his cockhead snag against your quivering hole. “Two- three…” Whilst you whimper, he’s hiking up one of his muscular legs to angle himself deeper - counting each inch he rummages inside you. “Four- and what’s that?”

“F-five!”

In and out - even the tiniest movements left you seeing stars already. “Seven-” The rounded cap of his mushroomy tip scouring your cunt open like a searchlight, all it takes is the cutest lil’ smooch near your g-spot to make you clench.

“There–!” You’re keening, fingers digging into the softness of your pillows as you gyrate your hips back primally. “So close- ngh- so close there, Toji.”

“E-eight- oh.” It feels so good that he’s losing count. Stuttering and heaving.

Your head’s so heavy and fuzzy whilst being pounded that you can barely even lift it up. Whimpering, it’s just about all you can do to gently swerve your hips downwards until you’re hitting Toji’s tensed core with a spank of your ass. 

Feeling so entirely full that your knees are buckling-

“No-” Just the slightest few centimeters forwards until Toji’s grip on your hips turns bruising, draaaagging you all the way back the distance you’d been driven forward. And more. “Nonono come back.”

Toji’s scratching the very globes of your ass cheeks with his dark happy trail, now damn near bottomed out and yet - it still wasn’t enough. He needed more more more- and he’s ready to plant one of his firm feet straight on top of your sweaty scalp to get you to hold still. 

Seething, saliva-glossed lips pulling back into a snarl– “E-easy there, doll. Yer pussy’s so damn filthy s’driving me craaaazy.” And you could tell, his sloppy cadence was ramming into you even faster, probin’ the button of your g-spot with his slimy tip. “Just a little more a- a little more n’ let me pull out.”

The tight press of his balls aching when you only squeeze around his length tighter, he’s melting on top of you.

Grunting, “Doll-” Bulging his swabbing girth, and you’re tightening so firmly that your trembly legs push together. “-m’serious.” Before he seriously loses whatever’s left of his sanity, that is.

So big that he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to, body refusing to - your bawling pussy too heavenly.

Tighter. 

Tighter until his hoarse pleads stick clammily to your skin, “Let me pull out, mama–” The slightly broken crackle of his deep baritone was barely audible over the repeated squelch of his mazing cock. And oh- you’d made Toji’s voice break. “Let me pull out before I make a ngh- meeeess out of ya.”

Muffling something into the pillows-

He has to manually roam his foot off of your poor head, and you’re bolting up with a wettened pwah! of intaken breath. A puddle of saliva smearing down your lower face, “Want it inside, Tooooji.”

“I-inside?”

And before you know it, you’re being manhandled into a tough headlock by one of his swole arms, the muscles of Toji’s biceps dig into your neck, your throat, your pulse. 

“Tell that to my hah- face-” Grouchy gusts of words strike your features, and you’re mewling as you feel his honed teeth gnaw on your sensitive ear lobe. This angle just perfect for him to smack sultry half-thrusts that make you dizzy.

Babbling, “Want- want it.” Keeping your body hostage even tighter.

Almost as if he was begging you to say otherwise, he’s giving you a taste of your own medicine and it makes your mouth flood with humid drool. Slobbering a slick sheen down the side of his vein-covered forearm, “Please, Toji…don’t pull out.”

“Don’t p-pull out.” Comes his echoing repetition, breathless. Shocked, gone at the very notion that he’s falling back on his knees ever-so-slightly - still unstopping with his cadence. In fact, going even harder. “I-if we make Megs a big brother then s’y-your fault- fuck!”

And Toji knew he was playing dangerously, he knew he could feel the feral twitch of his rock-hard length burying deeply against the door to your womb.

But what he didn’t know was that all it would take was that - the feeling of you getting even more lewdly wetter at the idea of him filling you up - for him to pump his hips in a vulgar stroke and cum. Heavy, hard. 

More than he has in his entire life, Toji’s cumming and cumming so much that he’s almost dazed at how much webbed, white syrup sloshes into your readily awaiting pussy. 

“Didn’t…pull out– oh, mama—” And it’s finally hitting him now, slithering down two of his knobbled fingers to toy open your saturated folds. Watching the mess triiiickle out, “Didn’t…pull out. S’really all inside.”

You’re whining, hazy pupils disappearing to the back of your head once he coats his fingerpads with a few sticky layers of cum n’ plugs it inside your mouth. Letting the salted caramel taste overtake your senses, “Don’t think you’re getting off easy now.”

And those words are abrupt - final.

“Wh-what?”

The questions rush to your larynx before he presses his fat, hefty cock further- “Gonna hafta let me feel her haaaa- alllll the time now-” Rutting, his sharp jaw droops pathetically open before he snaps it shut into a grin. “Gonna hafta let me fill her up. Hafta let me keep it-” Plop! He’s pushing a few dollops of dewy seed with his middle finger, “-inside now.”

Still painfully hard. 

“Finish what you started, mama.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Creampie cutiepie

“Haaaa– stay quiet, my love.” Nanami’s guttural plead scorches your ears, tugging back your restlessly squirming hips with a gentle pinch of your drenched panties.

Rubbin’ his thick fingers right down your dampened folds as he’s puuulling you further down the sleek office desk. Whispering urgently into your popped ears, “Don’t want them to hear- though, I wouldn’t mind…just don’t want them to ngh- hear the noises made by my favorite girls.”

And as if on cue, your needy pussy lets out a slurp of greedy wetness when Nanami drills his fattened cock into you sensually. 

Making your back arch off the frigid table surface at the feeling of his puffy veins tapping your sweetest spots, “K-Ken—” Struggling to wind your boneless legs around his toned waist, “A-are you jealous?”

“Shush, darlin’. And focus on- hah- me. Your husband.”

Not a denial. Nothing but the way he was sagging your plush, puckered pussylips open with his wide girth. With a rude pull on your flimsy underwear as leverage, he’s practically spanking you with his chiseled pelvis. 

Roughly, probin’ your cervix. 

But you knew better - your gentle, sensible husband wasn’t the type to suddenly pull you into his office and pound you right into his desk. All without a condom.

Not until he’d seen that all-new intern ogling you a little too closely, that is-

“Stop thinking.” The cold band of Nanami’s wedding ring sizzles against your cheek as he’s cradling your cute cheeks and squeezing. Mean. “Wan’ you only thinking about- hah- me. About…”

Trailing off- but he didn’t even need to finish his sentence.

He’s pumping all his swollen, aching inches into you like a madman. The sheer raw force of it mussing up his blond hair, curtaining his half-lidded gaze that told you he wanted to devour you right here. Wouldn’t even mind him knowing-

“Kn-knowing?” You’re blinking up in shock at what’d just departed from your husband’s slurring mouth, your entrance saturating a fresh new wave of arousal at the mere notion. 

“Oh, did I say that out loud, my love?” Was he serious? He couldn’t be- ah, but he was. So hazy with how it felt to finally be inside you raw, Nanami’s swabbing your drooling mouth open to suckle lightly on your tongue. Groaning, “Wouldn’t mind them allll knowing, actually-”

Now that he started, he couldn’t stop.

Tawny, tufted ends of his happy trail scratching your back. He’s bottomed-out and still pressing deeper, resting the chubby curve of his balls on your ass cheeks. Spanking- “Wouldn’t even mind them all seeing- because I’m one fucking this pretty pussy, my wife.”

Like he was proving it - to you, to himself, to your sloppy cunt. 

Every rugged whack of Nanami’s curved length makes your mouth froth with saliva. He was just so damn hard that each pulse of his reddened, bruising crown made your walls stretch even further. 

Again and again.

“Wouldn’t mind carrying you out like hck! this- my cum dripping down those pretty legs of yours…”

And then you’re clenching with your snug, velvety-feeling walls and he all but collapses on top of you. Shifting down with a grunt- Nanami’s sweat-slicked abs massaged your front, pearly whites sinking into your neck and marking. Holding himself back.

Choking out- guttural, as if it made him lose his very sanity to even ask, “You…like that, darling?

Nodding, “Y-yes.” Spearheading himself even deeper it felt like - or maybe he was just growing even bigger inside your cunt. Nanami’s hefty cock was so staggering that he’s bruising your sponged cervix with a round, circular stamp. “Please- oh, mmm Ken–”

“Say it- say it again.” Breaths striking out quicker, voice tilting until he sounded almost crazed. “Say you don’t want me to ngh- pull out.”

“I- I don’t want you to- fuck!”

Barely even able to speak with the way he’s fucking the words from your lungs, sounding as if he himself was barely keeping it together. “U-use your words, darling.” But how was that possible when Nanami’s rovering one of his hands to saddle your thighs on his broad shoulders. “Please- want to make sure you can take it all.”

Bending you in half like a lawn chair whilst your limbs dangle over his firm deltoids, he was ravenous.

Resting a capped knee up on the desk to give your sultry g-spot a loooong snog with his split-ended tip, you could feel the circlin’ of his sobbing orifice pushing inside. 

“Because d-don’t get me wrong- love when I cum here–” Letting go of your face with a steaming hot handprint, Nanami brushes your hardened nipples with the band of his cold wedding ring. “And…here-” Lovingly, on your stomach. “And here.” Down, down, down to your clit. “But…”

“But?”

Leaning in even closer, you could practically taste his sweet, sweet desperation for you. Like he was dreaming, “But I’ve hah! always wanted to make your pretty body remember the taste of my c-cum. Mine.”

Stuttering - he was stuttering, begging to not pull out. 

And how could you refuse?

“Ken—” You’re whining, eyes sliding backwards until they’re pure white- and Nanami Kento’s stern lips wobble oh-so-cutely once you’re tugging him in close with a hand around his gulping throat. “Don’t pull out.”

And he doesn’t- oh, he doesn’t.

“O-oh.”

Voice crackling. Those very words are more than enough to make the stoic man burn with a blush, the first time that he’s hearing those words - and he has no idea what to do other than bury his face between your jiggling tits and suck. Breathing, “I don’t…have to pull out.”

Hips thrusting so meanly between your legs that you’re fluttering important documents to the ground. Over and over and over— 

Harder. Sloppier. 

You’re realizing it before he does when he’s crashing the both of you into your highs with a slap of his cock into your slick g-spot. Skidding a line of precum straight down your walls and into your womb-

“O-oh, Kento- not gonna-” Head thrown back, toes curled, maw ajar with so many copious moans and lecherous noises. And yet you have nothing on the wet sounds pulled from your pussy, “Cum—ing–!”

“Yeah? Yeah? My pretty girl—” He’s murmuring breathlessly into your skin, cheek nuzzling where a neat little pool of drunken drool was starting to formulate. “I-I’m not gonna ngh! last either- oh.” Looking down, it’s only then that he’s catching the way your driveling cunt was already stuffed.

The way you’re struggling to hold in the thick, ribbony gushes of seed he’s spraying out. The way he didn’t even think - didn’t even register to pull out. 

“Inside…it’s really- really…pinch me-” Endeared by his request, you’re just about to when- ah, when your husband catches sight of your matching wedding ring. Molten eyes widening, “We’re married?”

Then when you nod- Half-lidded eyes struggling to stay open, “Was already…gonna propose…”

Just that pussydrunk, he can’t even decide where he wanted to watch you more. 

Your prettily fucked-out face, your glinting ring, or the way those gooey splotches of white were splashin’ around inside of you, slightly leaking outside as he moves to tug on your cute office skirt–

“How about we go outside and announce our baby shower in advance, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “Again?”

And Geto was being mean, Geto was being rude– spanking the quivering slope of your pussy whilst you clench and clench around his barreling, hot cock. Oh-so-lecherously pounding you through your nth high of the night-

“Awww, look- you’re cumming again.” He’s snickering from behind you, trapping you in a full nelson so tight that you could barely even squirm your hips back. Barely even breathe- “My gorgeous girl just can’t stop cumming, hmmm?”

You’re helplessly thrashing your legs, body aching for any kind of friction- before Geto’s inhuman reflexes work to curl underneath your thighs and pull. 

The curving veins of his forearms digging into your mounds of flesh, he’s snickering as you start whining into the heady air. “Seriously- look at this hah- mess.” The low, sultry tone of his voice curdling against the crook of your neck, Geto rovers the doughy soft tips of his fingers over the dollops of cum staining your front and smears. 

Drawing a few wet hearts on your tummy from all his own orgasm from rounds prior, “You look s-soooo fucking pretty like this. Almost makes me want to not pull out- oh-”

And Geto didn’t expect his ravaged cock to react like that. 

The tenderly leaking orifice on top of his crownhead twitching, he feels his teeth sink into his plush lower lip with a hiss. Sensitive pink slit rubbing up against the top of your slippery cunt in a way that made him want to cum right then and there. 

Inside. 

“I- fuck!” Geto doesn’t even know what to say, long inky hair falling like a curtain around you two. Panting. Heaving. The muscles of his deltoids ripple as he perks himself up on his elbows to look downwards. Did he seriously almost cum from the thought? “Fuck- what have you done to me, gorgeous?”

“D-didn’t do- ngh! anything…” You’re babbling out stupidly, the gummy channel of your cunt milking his veined cock. 

A slow trickle of drool drips down the side of your glossed lips, one that Geto smears away with a low ‘tch-’ Grunting gruffly, “Don’t even know what you fucking do t’me.”

Oh- oh.

He didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

But right now he was so hypnotized on your drooling pussy, just so drunk on the way your walls tenderized so softly. Gulping him up with greedy squelches that leave your teeth on edge, he was driving his hips up until he was heart-eyed. 

“Wh-what do you hngh! mean, Suguru–?” You’re humming, a smug smile plastering across your face as his words finally register. 

“What are you smiling all cockily about?” He’s seething from behind, pointed chin spraying with a few glittering droplets of spittle. Geto furrows his dark brows and snarls, “J-just because I said I didn’t wanna pull out- that I didn’t wanna cum a-anywhere but inside- hck! that I wanna fuck this pretty pussy forever—”

And he was so big- but his swirlin’, bulbous tip was only throbbing bigger with each word spilling from his mouth. Nuzzling right against your cute lil’ g-spot to slip and slide in mindless half-ruts. 

Warm tears of overstimulation well up in your eyes, “O-oh, right there- right there! Feels so good, Sugu-”

“Oh yeahhh- gonna squirt for me next?” 

“Only if you don’t pull out.”

Oh, fuck.

Just those words were enough for Geto to pound all his rummaging inches between your swollen folds, spine arching powerfully off of the creaking mattress for a good few seconds as he buries himself and holds it there. 

Words warbling with a slight chuckle, with a slight tinge of madness. “Y-you don’t really mean that-” He’s spitting, fighting to keep the dopey smile far, far away from his rosy lips. Jabbing his crowned mushroom tip, pressing. “-do you?”

And Geto didn’t even need to hear your response, he just needed to feel the way you were streaming out even more gushing waves of slick. Mewling, “N-not gonna last–”

“Nuh uh- not what I asked, gorgeous, need you to tell me-” He didn’t even know what he was babbling anymore, only that the way you were whining and the way you were grinding left his brain feeling overheated. “Want you to tell me- can I…really…inside?”

Voice hoarse, almost small like he didn’t even believe what he was asking.

And all Geto Suguru can do is roll one of his cum-topped digits to skid over your perked clit, swervin’ right on time with the pinpricks of his globed tip. Draaaagging his warm tongue over your throat, “Tell me-” He teases, reeling all the way out until his geysering orifice kissed your entrance, “-tell me.”

“Please-” You’re prattling away, and he’s hanging onto your every word as if he was still in disbelief. “-don’t pull out.”

And he doesn’t- he doesn’t, he doesn’t. 

He’s sinking his fat, pounding cock even deeper and still bucking until he bottoms out. Even after.

Once. Twice. Thrice- treating your poor g-spot like a dartboard until you’re bursting straight into your orgasm. Cunt bawling with a sparkling squirt- it left your head all stupidly white-hot to throw your head back and cum.

“Fuck- f-fuuuck– Sugu–” Your breath catches, heart racing once you’re feeling a splattered puddle of something wet on your shoulder. “Cumming- o-oh my god-”

Sluggishly turning your head around to find that oh- Geto was tearing up, his sensitively stinging length rubbing your sappy walls raw. The red, sheeny curve of his cockhead flinches- and Geto feels fit to burst. 

And he does - squirting, splurging out a few messy wads of translucent white. 

There’s so much of it that you’re feeling a few wettened wads splash all over your cervix, Geto’s cock pushing your pussy so wiiidely agape that your walls struggle to take up all of him. 

Panting- pushing his tensed abs into your back, higher and higher until the curve of his ballsack spanks your cunt. His sweatily flushed forehead falls onto your shoulder with a plop!

“Gorgeous…” Overstimulated, run raw. You were gulping out every droplet of cum he’s pumping out, and Geto thinks he must be in fucking heaven. Kiss-bitten lips wobbling, voice breathy - he was never going to be the same again. “M’never pulling out now.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - HEAT

“This- this heat.” Choso’s spitting, the trembly curves of his fingertips latching underneath your thighs to hoist you into the sloppiest mating press possible. Bending you pliably into angles you didn’t even know were possible- you swear the cheeks of your ass weren’t touching the bed anymore. “It makes me so…”

Whimpering, you’re watching with unsteady breaths as Choso lazily falters his pummeling pace. 

Letting his long, throbbing length slooow down, he’s making sure your hole can feel every carnal scratch of his zig-zagged veins, every pulse of his tip, every push. 

Your sweet, half-curse boyfriend’s cock was so big that every reel backwards of his slender hips left your entrance flooding with syrupy slick. Pushed out of you once he’s filling up every nook and cranny- 

Choso can’t help but swab his doughy fingerpads over that glittery gloss, lapping it into his mouth with a plop! “-thirsty, baby.”

“You’re so greedy, Cho.” You’re cooing out, wrapping your hands ‘round his neck and making him grunt. He was just too sexy whenever his cursed heat took over this time of year.

Fingers latching into his silken, brown hair, you’re using the lewd leverage to grind yourself down on his scouring cock. The dual spanks of skin-on-skin making Choso’s face droop into your neck and breeeeathe in that scent of you.

Slobbering with droplets of saliva, “N-ngh- I know, baby–” He’s whining, huffin’ and puffin’ in your saturated clouds of pheromones - he couldn’t get enough. “Can you p-please move your hips a little slower? S’gonna make me cum…”

“Awww, poor baby—” 

“Don’t tease.” Nose crinkling, playfully caressing the splotchy area of your g-spot with a few more probing pushes, it’s like Choso was trying to make you just as drunken as he was. 

But every thrust, every ram, every smooch into your deepest depths only made him more hypnotized. Push after push after push- he’s gnawing down on his cute pink cheeks to try and stop those wailing whimpers from leaving him. 

Planting your feet flatly on the damp mattress, you can’t help but perk your hips and maze the bulging roundness of his mushroomed tip across your cervix. “Mmm– ngh, what’s that, baby?”

“No- n-nooooo, don’t do that- don’t look at me like that or m’gonna cum.” He’s squeezing his mahogany eyes shut, long lashes glinting with a polish of tears. Clamoring his v-line to glissade down your teary slit, “M’gonna cum m’gonna cum-”

And Choso’s just about to pull out his weeping shaft, he’s just about to let off the most pained grunt before he’s pouring out a steaming hot mess of seed all over your tummy- before–

“S’that sooo–?” 

Without warning, without anything, you’re interlocking your ankles in a circle around his pretty waist. The flesh of your heels digging in deep against the dimples at the bottom of his spine, deeper. 

“N-ngh- let me- pull out-” Choso whines, eyes frantic. Teeth snarling- his canines simply drip with mouth-watered saliva, “Pull out pull out– otherwise m’gonna make a mess of this pussy.”

You’re flinching once his thumb comes hovering back down on your sloppily lustrous pussylips, painting his digits in all the sap leaking from your entrance. Heaps of it. 

Choso darts his half-lidded eyes away from your intense gaze and blushes such a bright, scorching red from the tips of his ears. “If I cover her in my cum I- hck! won’t be able to see her.” Another of his stray hands clawing onto your leg tight, his pace was hard. 

Rough. More curse than man- every thrust of his powerful hips left you darting further up the mattress. And Choso with his urgent bucks followed- never letting you get away. “Can’t hold it in, baby—”

“Well what if I hngh- want it inside, Cho?”

His handsome jaw drops, he gapes- body moving before his mind as he shoves you down even deeper into this mating press, until your hamstrings were burning. Swollen lips moving up and down stupidly - soundless. 

“Awww, do you want that too, baby?” 

Yes- yes. 

Stray strands of chestnut brown dangle to and fro once Choso can only nod fervently. Feverishly. And the only thing more out of control than him was his rummaging thrusts, leaving a firm thwack! on the door to your womb that just left you wanting more. 

“She’s just so soooft n’ warm it makes me wanna make her- drool–” Drooling himself down the ends of his dopey grin, and it wasn’t just the heat talking. “Wanna make her a mama- s-so you better let me pull…unless…” 

Swerving his hips into you even deeper, your ankles yank him until the ridges of his abs were bumping down your front. 

“O-oh my god- ngh- baby–” He’s battering mindlessly, pre spilling out of him like a broken hose.

And you swear you see him slip out a few beaded tears at the raw tightness of your cunt. Jackhammering against the snug resistance of your hole-

Until you could feel his thighs shivering, until you were keening at the bulbous, utter fatness of Choso’s base. 

“Y-you…” He croaks out, making you blink your heady eyes open in question.

Only to find Choso Kamo gaping down below. 

“Baby…you just took my knot.” 

Oh. 

And it’s the last thing said before Choso lets his head fall back with a strangled jumble of your name. Over and over like a mantra while he cums–

“S-so this is what it feels like.” Looking genuinely dazed, eyes all glassy. “This- th-this? S’this even ngh! allowed? S’too good- m’filling you up. M’filling you up and it feels too good.”

“Fuck- fuck– m’so full, Cho.”

He’s shivering viscerally with your every squeeze, trying to claw down your legs. Nibbling on your throat, “You’re letting me cum- really? Really, really letting me cum just this once?” Watery eyes of his staring dead-on into yours, he’s letting his mouth drop into an oh! with every one of your nods. “R-really? But that means m’gonna cum inside you ngh- so fucking muuuch.”

“I-I know—” Body limp with the sheer pressure he was putting on you, scraping the ballooned-up curve of his crownhead down your mushy innards. 

Your eyes roll back with a mewl just as soon as the splash of his ropey seed hits the bottom of your cervix, gluey wads of its sticking to your walls and making Choso shudder at the filthy second skin of it inside you. 

“G-gonna pump you allll full-” Snarling, fighting against the way that the fat knot positioned on the base of his cock meant that he couldn’t properly fuck you into the bedsprings just the way he wanted to. Snagging on the tight hole of your cunt and gyrating to stir your goopy insides, “-fuck- fuck I can’t stand leaving this cute hole a-all lonely. Wanna fuck you properly soooo bad—”

You’re whimpering once one of Choso’s ringed fingers comes rovering down to squeeze his fattened hilt and swear. 

Vision flashing white, blood manipulation seeping out, you can feel his barreling shaft harden-

He’s not even done with you before he’s preparing for more, “Knots o-only last haaaa– half an hour.” Before nudging your sultry folds apart to watch you drool. The hooded peripherals of his gaze locked onto where he’s pushing a knobbled thumb inside– “Until then…”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - You vs. Two

“Easy there- easy, brat.” Two of Sukuna’s big, beefy arms come curling around the small of your back, easily sprawling you out across his chiseled pecs with a simple tug. “Gonna fuck yourself stupid. Although-”

You’re whimpering, the only thing that you can manage to do right now while he’s manhandling you on top of his dual, throbbing cocks.

Clawing down a third of his palms on top of your sweat-matted crown to push you down his barreling lengths like some doll. It’s just so cute the way you’re shrilling yourself hoarse once he’s swirling your tight insides with both thick, globular tips. 

Snickering, “-ya already are pretty fuckin’ dumb on my ngh– cocks, huh?”

Brows furrowing, you’re flapping your spit-glued lips a few times to slur out a coherent response. “F-fuck you–”

“Nooo, little human.” And the smile the King gives you is dangerous, both sets of his devilish lips quirking up into something sleazy. Sukuna slouches further backwards against the headboard and bounces his tattooed knees. Just once. 

Just once to render you speechless on his plump lengths. So swollen that the tiniest rut leaves you arching your back and drooling– “I’m fucking you–”

“P-please-”

“Now now–” The pointed claws of his black fingernails scrape gently down your exposed throat, “Can ya feel me all the way up in that hah! pretty throat, huh?” Just probing your g-spot, once. Twice. Repeatedly. “Every vein? Every inch– heh, how about every drop?”

And you’re so far gone with just a few of his vulgar whacks to your sweetest, most tender spots.

Your heavy head is already starting to feel dizzy- so cockdrunk after every bullying ram that by this point Sukuna’s the one that’s moving you to meet his roughened tempo. 

One clammy hand gripping either side of your restless hips, you ogle the sheer natural bulge of his biceps as he manhandles you. Draaaagging your dripping wet cunt all the way from the strawberry orifices of his tip n’ dooown to hug his twin bases. 

Nestled cutely on the curve of his fattened balls, “I-I wan’ it, Kuna–”

“Want what?”

Lips wobbly once he knocks into your g-spot harder. He’s fucking you so thoroughly that you almost feel shy mumbling, “Want you to- mmm– not pull out.”

Oh. 

His rude lips drop - both sets of them. Hips rutting, girths bulging to stretch your walls even further apart, the edges of his candyfloss hair beading with a lather of sweat. With only a few words you’d all but ruined him and fuck-

“What did you say?”

Sukuna wasn’t taking this lightly- no. 

He’s promptly spanking the fourth n’ final of his hands across the lower half of your face, atoms in the air pressurizing with cursed energy when he manifests that infamous second mouth right across his palm to kiss you.

Sukuna watches you with a dazed glint in his crimson eyes as he thrusts. As he punishes your sopping wet pussy with his rummaging cocks, “Oooo- you need ta wash that mouth out, brat.” The slimy edge of his tongue slithers between your lips and makes you mewl- “What have I said about talking out of that ngh! pussy, hm?”

“But– mmpf–!”

“You better talk to me from this pair of lips, human.”

Knees weak with the sheerly raw points of stimulation everywhere, it takes you a few more gyratin’ bounces to gather your thoughts. 

Maw ajar and stinging once he finally pulls his cursed mouth back with a claggy pwah! “B-but I want you to, Kuna.”

And shit- the minute those words register in his pussydrunken mind, the ancient lights of his chamber flicker. Some burst- 

“F-fuck.” You’d made the King of Curses’ gruff baritone break, “Yer fucking serious about cumming…inside?”

“Yes- please.” You’re nodding, watching through your own hazy eyes as his mouth parts lewdly. “Not gonna l-last–!”

Sweltering breaths heaving, cocks fattening up until each nudging length was almost too much for your tight pussy to handle. 

Lightning bolts of his veins bashing against your sides, he’s bumpin’ into his own pounding lengths and shivering. Two arms snaking up and down your arched spine, “Tch- d-don’t think m’this affected because of- of that. S’just so fucking tight I can barely even move.” 

And it was true- he’s so big with both his twin, rock-hard cocks that Sukuna could only half-thrust into your gaping entrance at his point. The globular curves of his tips pushin’ into you so desperately that you could practically taste his neediness. 

But you could see the way that the sharp edges of his ears painted a feverish red, tattooed inner-thighs glazing with so much of his syrupy, buttery precum.

Your jaw drops as you take in the sheer volume making you slip n’ slide into his battering rams, “Want it- want it, Kuna- ins-”

“Don’t.” Canines gnawing onto the plush edge of his bottom lip, one of his palms creeping up again to leave your babbling mouth slurping with kisses. He was ruined, bit by bit. 

And he’s pumping his full, rounded crowns into your g-spot again. “Cum f’me instead, b-brat.” Making sure you won’t be remembering that little stutter with the way he was making your vision flash with pleasure. “Shut up and cum.”

When you did it was with Sukuna biting back a moan himself, guiding the mushy ends of his tips to swerve into your cervix once more. Your womb. Everywhere. 

“Can’t pull out, huh?” He repeats to himself, almost breathless with a snicker. “Take it then- take it-”

It was bucketloads, absolute torrents of milky white that were flooding your tight channel. Sukuna wasn’t just covering your velvety cunt with all his seed, he was drenching you in it until it overspilled. Loaded up wads webbing down each of his lengths, soaking his pinkish happy trail completely.

So much of it that you can feel splosh around in your throat, that thickly cloying texture tasted on your tongue. “Th-there’s so much, Kuna–”

“Awww, c’mon girl. You can take- every- drop-” Punctuated with a rugged thrust that sent your spongy cervix bruising, the slightly-circular motions of his toned pelvis makes warm sap smear across spots you didn’t even know existed. “Fuck! Look at you- movin’ those ngh- hips like you’re swallowing it all up. Been greedy for it?”

Reaching your limp hands up to cradle his neck and hold on for dear life, Sukuna flinches at the splat! of cum that slips out of you and hits his v-line. “Can feel you mmm- filling me all inside, Kuna–”

“Oh…now that’s fun.”

Rapidly- urgently manifesting his second mouth to slash across his abs, “Looks so much better droolin’ from your cunt like this- n’not anywhere else, brat.” Monstrously tonguing the glutinous puddle formulating underneath you n’ your slick, “Look at it mixin’ all together-” 

You’re sobbing out every time he slides the flattened edge of his tongue between your legs. Teasingly sliiiiding back and forth, “Tch- wish I had a third mouth.”

“For what?” As if you already didn’t know.

He was just hypnotized by what he saw below, only grinning- squeeeelch! goes the motion of his softened tastebuds slipping inside your hole. Fuck. “Itadakimasu”

♡ INO TAKUMA - Till it breaks?!

“Oh.” Comes out Ino’s dampened gasp, the soft puff of air scalding where his toned arms held you into a cute full nelson. 

And your spine arches back into the way his washboard abs tense, into the way his broad chest heaves your boneless body up n’ down. Right in the very same angle that he first felt that heavenly taste of your slick, raw pussy walls. “O-oh.”

Startling your burning skin with a wet splatter! of drool from his ruby red lips, “I think the hah! condom broke, pretty.” Motioning to drag his sloppy length back, Ino bites back a sensitive hiss at the saccharine squeeeelch. “Lemme just-”

And then he does it again- that same little, addicted brush of the splotch where that flimsy rubber was torn. Right on top of where your sweet boyfriend’s flared mushroom tip was so big that he’d shattered the condom open, driving up a tentative dig into the bottom of your pussy.

You’re feeling your mouth drop into a softly panted oh! “T-Taku–?”

“Yes- yes!” Snapping right back into reality, Ino’s pressing the doughy fringes of his fingertips into your thighs to manhandle your hips. Almost as if he couldn’t bring himself to move. 

“I should just-” Massaging and massaging the hot, reddened curve of his cockhead past your walls- it really doesn’t help that your sweet, sweet insides just kept on sucking him back up each time he’s carnally scraping his length down. Trying to pull out. “I reeeeeally should…”

Ah, he was so cute with his rosy lips wobbling in concentration. Chestnut brows furrowed whilst he tried to will himself to try and reel back from your dripping wet pussy. 

You find yourself tittering, craning your neck to plant an innocent peck near the corner of his mouth. “You can just not pull out, baby-”

“B-but if I don’t pull out how will I- oh.” 

You’re ogling at the exact moment it hits him.

When Ino’s molten eyes widen, his tawny lashes fluttering ever-so-slightly, the prettiest pink flush scorching all over the apples of his cheeks. And his cock- oh, his cock practically ravages your gooey innards with a throbbing jolt. 

Mouth gaping open silently a few times before he’s finally, finally finding his voice. “Can I? I shouldn’t- I really sh-shouldn’t, sweetness-” And your heart almost pangs in disappointment when he’s pulling out of your dewy entrance with the loudest sluuuurp-

-only to toss away the useless remnants of that rubber and slam back in.

“B-but you just feel sh-shoooo good—!”

“Hck- oh!” Whines clog up in your throat once Ino’s pinning you to him with a strong forearm, the slippery glide of his length making sure you feel every patterned vein imprinted into your walls. 

Ino swirls his cockhead in an experiment heart all over your cervix and gasps at the utter wetness that greets him. “H-how m’I even supposed to compete?” Comes out his pained whine, followed almost immediately by the thwack! of his rounded balls striking your treacly cunt. 

Making him snap his head down- loud. Fuck- you were so much louder when he didn’t have a condom on. Squelch after squelch resounding like music in his ears every time he slams upwards. Scolding, “D-don’t talk back to me.”

“Taku, baby, are you okay–”

“That goes for ngh! you, too, pretty- do I look okay?” Hooded lids widened, his usual baritone was botched with cracks. Octaves higher. “R-raw? Seriously? S’fuckin’ unfair- who said you can feel this good- soooo fuh-fucking good.”

And you’ve never seen your gentle boyfriend like this before. 

Never seen him so mindlessly rutting with his cadence, never seen him so feral every time he’s pummeling his hips into the mounds of your ass. 

Bruising his thighs against yours, his ballsack against your entrance. Ino was balls-deep and still trying to rover his bawling orifice further across your plush cunt. 

So harshly that you’re bowing your back and clamoring behind you to hold onto the headboard-

“Don’t run from me when you’ve been ngh! holding out-” Ino spits in a seething tone from behind, free palm gripping your wrists like adhesive. He tugs them down and hold you right at his complete n’ utter mercy, unmoving. “You’ve been holding out- th-this? Felt like this n’ you’ve been holding out, sweetness?”

“Fuck–!” Your spine aches with the white-hot ruts he’s bucking into you, the pointed globe of his shaft stirring your insides in a way that made you jostle with each swerve, too. “Mmm– right there, baby.”

And once he’s finding your g-spot he’s never leaving it alone. 

Spraying out a thick battering of warm pre all over that particular bundle of nerves before he jerks his hips and bruises it. Making you throw your head back and clench–

“D-don’t!” Ino gasps, watery eyes drooping with the sheer heat inside your soppy pussy. He felt like he was just melting into you, abs almost melding into your back with each skim. “Makes me go crazy- m-makes me wanna haaaah- cum…inside.”

The very moment he admits this, you coo. Partially shifting your body around to take in his scorching blush, the way that Ino tries to hide away behind his unruly bangs. 

You curl your fingers around one soft lock and pull- making him whine. “When I say don’t ngh- pull out- I mean don’t pull out, Taku–” 

And that was it- that did it. 

In all of two flutters of your lashes, Ino’s snapping. 

All those long, hard years of training letting him trek his powerful forearms underneath your thighs and haul you all the way in half. The caps of your knees hitting your tits, his cock hitting the bottom of your pussy.

“Then…get ready.” 

Crazed, babbling. It’s all the warning you’re getting before Ino froths out generous helpings of creamy white cum. The thickened dollops settling near your womb and sprinkling to and fro once he’s pumping it even deeper. 

You’re whimpering, body jolting at the low hum of reverse cursed energy that seeps from Ino’s fingerpads. Without him even realizing. 

“Taku– o-oh my god you’re ngh- cumming so much.”

More than usual - so much more than usual. 

Ino’s wild tempo meant that your poor entrance was gaping with all the leaky knots of his seed, milking and milking every single ounce out of himself. 

“Oh my god- you squeeze me even tighter when I cum inside, pretty- s-so I just have to…” Until his balls ached with nothing. The strawberry divot homed at the end of his length sputtering out once- twice- before Ino had wrung himself to cum dry. “Shit- don’t know if I can c-cum anymore. But I want to- I need to.”

“Nghhh– fuck!”

Every slurp! that echoed from your overspilling pussy whenever his cum leaked was speaking to him. And Ino was nodding– oh, what a monster you’ve created. 

Lightly groaning as he finally pulls out with a filthy drag, it takes him all of two seconds to flip your buzzing body over and give you a pussydrunken grin. Raw n’ ravaged. “R-ride me dry, pretty?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “J-just the tip.”

It’s about the fifth time Gojo’s breathily repeating that mantra - maybe even the fiftieth since he’d promised he could handle fucking you without a condom— with just the tip. 

And your boyfriend’s deepened voice cracks numerous octaves higher every time he’s pinpointing your insides with the red, bulging tip of his cock. That rounded crown swirlin’ a sultry smooch right into the spots that make you cutely keen–

“T-Toru! Ngh- oh my god, you’re in so-”

“-deeeep, yeah?” He’s snickering from behind, clouded pants leaving the back of your neck humid. And your overworked bedsprings creak! once he’s sidling his shivering thighs from behind, jostling you up with each meaty limb. “S’alright, my girl. You can take it- you will. S’just the…”

And he can’t even hold his train of thought- can’t do anything but let the tender grooves of his veins tickle your pussy. Rubbing sweetly up n’ down across your walls, deeper. Harder. 

“-tip.”

Teary eyes damn near bulging out of your head, “F-fuuuuck!”

So hard that you’re being driven further up the bed by his sharp hipbones - but he doesn’t let you move a millimeter. Immediately curling the right set of his long, pale fingers around your throat and draaaagging you backwards. 

“J-just the tip.” Gojo’s gurgling - babbling. Syllables coming out just as unsteadily as he’s mindlessly rutting with his swollen, veiny cock. You’re so cute taking everything he gives that he can’t help but chuckle. “See? See?” Eyes wide, tone hoarse. “You’re gonna- hah! take it like my good girl. Take my fat fuckin’ tip until I pull out, m’kay?”

Splat! Splat! Splat! You’re so dazed that the only thing reeling you out of your cockdrunken little reverie is the spray of treacly saliva that leaks from between his clenched teeth. 

He’s slobbering. 

Your lips flap stupidly, sparkly beads of spittle decorating your own chin as you’re whirling your head over your shoulder. “H-huh? Oh.”

Oh, Gojo Satoru doesn’t look like he heard you. 

He didn’t even look like he was breathing. 

Half-lidded eyes oh-so-murky that it’s a goddamn miracle they’re even shifting downwards to stare at your puffy, puckered folds. Huffing out a little ‘oh’, Gojo’s slouching his toned bodyweight on top of yours n’ cradling you into a filthy, filthy French kiss as he pounds you silly.

“Just the tip-” And it’s a good thing he’s smearing his syrupy mouth over yours - because one particularly harsh ram leaves you screaming. Drinking in each of your pretty noises into his breathy mouth. “Shhh sh sh, s’alright s’alright. Don’t run.” You didn’t even realize that you were fisting the silky coverings of your pillowcase and attempting to crawl away until he clings tighter ‘round your throat, hauling you back down. “S’just the tip- just the- ngh-”

And usually - usually - you would’ve given him a piece of your mind. 

Because it wasn’t just the tip. Gojo was so big - so long, and you could feel almost every inch of his hot, throbbing girth. Pushing open your plush walls until he’s filling up every nook and cranny; way, way past the flared ridge of his cockhead to stretch and stretch and stretch you out on his shaft.

Hell, you could almost feel the plump curve of his ballsack lazily nudging your puffy pussylips. 

“Toru–!” Your lungs heave with the effort to raise your voice above a mewl, “This is more than the tip- hngh.”

“Wh-what do you…” Fat dollops of sweat beading down his temple, it takes him everything - every last shred of his sanity to finally look. To finally get his fuzzily sparking brain to realize- “…oh”

And you don’t know what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t for Gojo to plant yet another experimental whack to the bottom of your cervix. Letting your hips jitter underneath his palms, he’s groping a handful of your ass. 

“Then…” You can only watch once he breaks away to tilt his head cutely, cherry-pink maw sagging as if he was hypnotized. “-halfway, sweetheart?” 

Swervin’ straight into your g-spot with three spanks each second, he’s tunneling you open with such lecherous sluuurps. “Mhm, hngh- oh, halfway and-” Hissing, Gojo’s long, angelic lashes flutter once he’s feeling his aching balls squeeze. Close. “-and then I’ll pull out, okay?”

“But you’re shoooo—” It was music to his ears watching you stumble over your syllables with your adorable voice, and it only made him go harder. 

“S-s-sooo mean, huh?” Mocking you, “But I hafta- can let myself go o-only halfway or I…won’t be able to pull out.” If he was in any better state of mind, he’d rather have died than confess to anything so pathetically drunk on your pussy. Laughing- “Just imagine, if I didn’t pull out…h-heh, imagine.”

Oh, that was a dangerous line of thought. 

He’s never done that before. Anything more of that and he’s going to drive himself crazy already, feeling goosebumps raise on the back of his flushed neck as your cute, sappy insides clench.

Milking his prolonged length all the way from his fattened tip to the plump, split-ended circle of his tip. Still murmuring, “How cute- Imagine if I didn’t- pull- out-”

Deeper- he doesn’t even register it. Again and again until both you and the bed frame sing. Harder- he’s still thinking about what he said. 

You’re almost sobbing once those tufts of ivory white at the base of his cock massage your skin raw, bullying you into the mattress with just his prominent v-line. You moan, “I-it’s more than- hck! halfway in, Satoru–!”

“Oh.” Gojo heaves, Gojo snickers. “F-fine. You win.”

And you didn’t even have the time to wonder what he meant by that before he tenses his abs and punishes your hole with a rugged slam. Animalistic. 

“Y-you win- you win you win you- ngh- win-” He’s spitting through gritted teeth, so harshly that the strongest tastes pure metal on his sizzling tongue. “You win n’ this is what’cha gonna get.” Filling up with saccharine trickles of saliva, he scrunches his chin and now fully - mercilessly - gives you a solid few thrusts. 

Gripping on tight to your left ass cheek with one hand, every hold he has on you is pulling you back after every recoil. A bubble of high-pitched laughter departs from his lips as soon as he watches himself siiink all the way in. Over. And over. And over again. 

Groaning, “Can’t take it anymore- can’t- fuck!” He can’t even bear the thought of pulling out anymore-

“C-can’t pull out?” You’re whispering, eyes widening as soon as Gojo gasps, hit with the realization that he was rambling his thoughts out loud without even realizing. Just that pussydrunk.

“N-no.” Comes out the confessional response, brows furrowing as he’s reaching below to give your neglected clit a sweet, buzzing pinch. “You win, just don’t make me ngh…pull out. Please, sweetheart?”

You made the powerful, cocky strongest beg. 

And as he says this he can feel himself cumming - can feel his cursed energy flare out of control. Bolts of tiny blue lightning straying from the edges of his peripherals, oh-so-thoroughly locked down on you and your sloppily thrusting cadence. 

No- he was muuuch more focused on the way that he could see with his Six Eyes. Murked walls of your sopping pussy covering with layers of syrupy white cum as he counts underneath his breath, ‘one…two…’ 

Digging the clean-cut crescents of his nails into the side of your pulsating neck, harder. Sloppier. ‘…three.’

Exactly in time to watch you fall apart as your orgasm hits you like a damn freight train. 

“Fuck- fuh-fuuuuck! Toru m’cumming m’cumming.” So pretty letting your thighs twitch with the white-hot pleasure, your toes curl in pleasure as you position your hips to let his steaming crownhead plunge. 

Bottomed-out and still aching to go deeper.

Barrelling in a rummaging tempo so sinful that thick droplets of sap ooze out of you, sticky n’ pure white. It makes Gojo’s breath hitch to watch the slicked mess pouring from your stuffed hole, glazed shaft so blissfully reeling back- only to not pull out. “I…inside.”

“Y-yeah ngh-” You’re humming with delight at the cobwebs of cum his girth mixes like frosting, so warm and heavy inside of you. “A-all inside, Satoru.”

So far delayed - his melty brain stalls just a few more pumping shudders before he can even think of opening his mouth again. “Did you take the pill, sweetheart?”

“…no.”

And Gojo Satoru can only smile and oh- oh, the look in his eyes made you jolt right to your very core. You weren’t getting off easy. Or walking. “Good.”

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week!

Plagiarism not authorized.

[dddyprv]

" lucky charm ! "

contains— female reader, spit, creampie, multiple orgasms (reader), sixsome, full nelson, double penetration, oral sex (m & f receive), anal, unprotected, toji calls a girl a bitch, toji being soft, mlm scene between geto & gojo, reader masturbates, mind breaking, nanami cameo, reader has a belly piercing, no penetration from geto this time

a/n— since u guys and i personally love dork!reader x jjk football team, i decided to write another one! prequel here you'll probably have to read that one first for this to make sense, also do not come for me because i have no clue about what goes on during football >.< this is also kinda rushed, let me specify that this is a college au too

word count— 9.1k… i apologize in advance

the whole football team is truly convinced that dork!reader is their "good luck charm."

ever since that night, when they all took turns with you in the locker room, fucking you until you were a babbling mess, they haven't lost a single game since. and now, with tonight being the night of the championship, and the team's reputation on the line, they aren't taking any chances.

it started out small, toji letting you wear his football jersey to cover up after they tore your outfit to pieces, the oversized fabric swallowing you up as he smirked at the sight. gojo carrying you on his shoulders, letting you wear his football helmet and laughing each time it fell over your eyes with any little movement you made, and geto sneaking you into games for free, so you can be in the stands, cheering for your favorite boys. they loved it, loved knowing their favorite girl was always there, watching, supporting them, belonging to them in a way nobody else could.

oh, and as for their girlfriends? well, the way you were just a bit too loud for their boyfriends whenever they scored a point earned you more than a few nasty looks, not that you cared. they definitely notice you, the way you're always at the football games, always getting their boyfriend’s attention, and they hated it. not because they actually love their boyfriends, but because the idea of some dorky girl stealing their spotlight was unbearable. the truth is, you are pretty, just as much as they are, and worthy of attention. but you're shy, kept your head in a book. it took a hit on your social life, sure, but that didn’t matter. because their boyfriends‘ didn’t seem to mind at all.

the stadium lights burn brightly against the dark sky, a sharp contrast to the biting cold air that nips at your bare legs. the crowd buzzes with excitement, fans bundled up in thick jackets and scarves, but here you are, shivering in your too-short miniskirt and your cropped top, stubbornly refusing to cover up. you'd spent so much time getting ready, doing your makeup, making sure you looked cute for them, and now, standing at the edge of the field, you wonder if you should've picked something less revealing. but it's too late for second guessing, especially when you hear a familiar voice call out—

"there's our girl."

warm hands settle on your shoulder as geto leans in, his lips brush against your temple before he moves over in front of you. the others aren't far behind—toji, sukuna, gojo, and choso—following closely behind, surrounding you with their broad, towering frames. their presence is overwhelming in the best way. "tryin' to look extra pretty for us tonight, huh?" geto murmurs, his thumb wiping off some of the smudged gloss at the corner of your lips with his free hand, he's clutching his football helmet tightly in the other. it's true, you wanted to look pretty for the guys today, glossy lips, cute little outfit, your hair worn down instead of pulled back into your usual ponytail, but with the weather being practically freezing since the sun isn't out anymore, you look silly in your white miniskirt, to anyone that isn't gonna fuck you, anyways, that barely reaches where your thigh and ass meet. but when you catch the way they're all looking at you, as if you're the only thing worth staring at, drooling like starving dogs, it felt worth it.

still, a tiny feeling of self-consciousness bites at you. should you have worn a different outfit? something that wouldn't draw so much attention to you? wouldn't make you feel so aware of yourself? “o-oh, do i offend?” you innocently ask, raking through your hair with your fingers and smoothing down the back of your skirt. "you wouldn't let us go into the biggest game of the season without a little extra luck, would you?" geto asks, mock sadness in his voice as he pouts. you fidget with the ends of your hair, dropping your head to stare down at your shoes on the dark green grass only to notice just how much bigger the guys are than you as they stand around. "don't go all shy on us, y/n." toji chuckles from beside geto, his hand finds your chin as he places a gentle finger beneath it and tilts your head up so you're looking right at him. his gaze holds nothing but affection, and it makes the heat burning your face and the tips of your ears worse.

he's close enough that you catch the faint scent of cologne and sweat on him, his jersey clinging to his broad shoulders. the soft warmth in his gaze makes your stomach twist, and suddenly, you feel too seen, too small in the midst of them. gojo chuckles from beside toji, arms crossed over his chest as he leans in, eyes scanning over you in a way that makes your stomach flip. “what’s with the face, princess?” he teases. “you were all confident a second ago."

your fingers twitch, and you can't stop your hand from moving to your face as you slip your glasses off, tucking them away as the insecurities settle in. maybe you'd look better without them—prettier, like the girls they're usually seen with. but the moment your glasses come off, your vision becomes hazy. toji's handsome features you were just staring at go blurry. you can feel your eyes crossing and you blink, squeezing your eyes shut as if that'll help. before you can fumble for them, sukuna, who’d been watching with a smirk, walks over and plucks your glasses from your hands with an amused scoff. "nice try, sweetheart." he mutters, carefully sliding your glasses back onto your face again, adjusting them.

the moment your vision clears and your eyes go back into focus, choso whistles lowly from his spot beside sukuna. "much better," he coos, ruffling your flat-ironed hair before tilting his head with a dramatic sigh. you open your mouth to protest, you'd rather sacrifice your sight if that meant knowing you looked good, but gojo beats you to it, his usual grin stretching wide as he leans in. "honestly, i dunno why you even tried that, you’re already gorgeous.” he says, “don’t hide this pretty face from us."

heat sizzles on your cheeks, but before you can process gojo's words, sukuna swoops in and wraps his muscular arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him until your chest is pressed against his abs. “m’ so happy our girl came to see us.” he murmurs, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, he drops his head so your foreheads are pressed against each other as the tip of your noses touch. you smile up at him, cupping his face with your hands. "alright, alright, that's enough." you hear toji say as he and the rest of the guys crowd around you two, toji makes the first move, leaning in as he starts kissing your cheek, gojo nuzzles his nose against your neck before latching his lips onto your skin, geto stands behind you as his large hands explore your waist, choso presses soft, lazy pecks along your shoulder, while sukuna smirks and tilts your chin up, stealing a quick kiss right from your lips.

you feel your heart skip a few beats as you pull back from sukuna's lips, his eyes locked onto your flushed face as he stands straight up, allowing everyone to get a good look at you. "look at 'er." toji drawls, his voice laced with amusement. "all dolled up, looking cute as hell." his green eyes drag down your body, lingering just long enough on your smooth thighs and the hem of your miniskirt to make your thighs press together. "almost too good to be true."

sukuna huffs a low laugh beside him, reaching down to toy with the edge of your skirt. "you wore this thing just for us, baby?"

"mhm!" you proudly declare, nodding your head and lightly pinching the fabric of your skirt. your lips tighten in an upside-down smile, you twirl a lock of your hair around your finger and slightly sway. even though you're shy, you crave this kind of attention. and just like that, the insecurity gnawing at you starts to fade. maybe you don't fit in with the cheerleaders, maybe you aren't as loud, as confident, as perfect as they are, but these guys don't seem to mind. in fact, they love it.

"you cold, y/n?" toji's smug expression fades into something softer, pure concern in his voice. his brows knit together as he shrugs off his jersey, pulling it over your head without waiting for an answer, the fabric heavy and warm as it falls past your knees. "there, don't get sick trying to be cute. you already are."

sukuna smacks his lips, watching toji with an amused look. "man, look at you," he drawls, shaking his head. "all soft for her like some lovesick puppy." gojo snickers, elbowing sukuna. "never thought i'd see the day when the big bad toji fushiguro gives up his jersey and his dignity in one move." toji grunts, adjusting the jersey on you like he didn't hear them. "shut up." his hand lingers on your shoulder, tugging the fabric into place, and yeah, they all see it.

"aww, she's blushing." choso calls out, smiling and patting your shoulder.

before you could respond, a sharp, piercing whistle cuts through the air. "enough." coach nanami's voice is flat, unimpressed as he walks up to the huddle with his arms crossed. his usual stern expression is set in place, brows furrowed as he glares at the group. "get your asses in gear. now." the guys groan, shaking their heads as they start to ready themselves for the game. geto sighs dramatically, stepping back. "guess we'll have to pick this up later."

"but don't go anywhere." choso gives you a pointed look, his fingers briefly squeeze your wrist before he lets go. "we wanna hear you cheering for us."

gojo smirks, reaching out to tap your chin. "loud and clear, yeah?"

"yeah," you breathe, barely registering your own voice.

you watch the three of them take off towards the middle of the field, but before sukuna follows, he quickly crouches down until his lips are at your ear. "cheer the loudest for me." his voice a raspy whisper, then he's gone, running after the others, leaving you grinning to yourself. you turn your attention back towards toji who's already staring at you. "aren't you gonna go?" you ask, nodding your head towards the field. "yeah, yeah.” he mutters, but makes no effort to leave. instead, he lets his gaze sweep over you, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “just let me admire you a little longer. you’re so damn cute wearing my jersey.”

before you can even think of a response, nanami's sharp voice cuts through the moment.

“fushiguro!”

you whip around to see coach nanami, arms crossed, his sharp eyes snapping over at you in toji’s oversized jersey. “what the hell is she doing with that on?!?!”

toji sighs, dragging a hand down his face before stepping back, but not before he tugs the fabric into place, making sure you're covered properly against the cold air. "relax, coach,“ he drawls, already jogging off toward the locker room. “i’ll grab another one.”

coach nanami exhales hard, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. his clipboard slips from his grip, hitting the ground with a dull thud. "dealing with college boys is a fucking nightmare."

he mutters something under his breath again as he bends to grab his clipboard, shaking his head like he's this close to losing it. but you barely notice it, your focus lingers on toji's retreating form, the warmth of his jersey still heavy on your body. it smells like him too, like worn leather, faded cologne, and a hint of sweat, and you fight the urge to bury your nose in it.

"you're unbelievable," coach nanami sighs, dragging you out of your thoughts.

"what?" you blink up at him with giant eyes thanks to your lenses, feigning innocence.

his tired gaze flicks between you and the team warming up on the field, then back to you, deadpan.

"just... stay out of trouble," he mutters, turning on his heel.

the stands are already packed with students, alumni, parents who think their kids are going to make it to the NFL, and locals all gathered for the championship game. the energy is buzzing. you should be focusing on that, but instead, your attention shifts to the sidelines, to them.

sukuna is the first to notice you watching, he smirks, throwing you a wink before rolling his shoulders like he's showing off. you watch how the muscles in his tattooed arms flex, and it gives you a shameful heat between your legs. geto catches on next, and even from this distance, you can see the teasing glints in his eyes. gojo, of course, takes it a step further, making a big show of blowing you a kiss. choso's stretching on the field, his eyes locked onto your figure with intense concentration.

you step onto the bleachers, slowly and quietly walking to an open spot with your cherry slushie and ketchup and mustard covered hotdog from the concession stand—your favorite. as you walk, you notice how the sound of conversation starts to die down, not all at once, but as if everyone you walked by went silent, finding staring at you to be a lot more interesting than whatever they were talking about. you keep your head down, pretending not to notice, but you can feel it. the weight of everyone's eyes on you, the murmurs passed between groups.

by the time you take a seat on the silver bleacher, it's clear, the excitement of the game or the players making their entrance, none of that is what gets people talking.

it's you.

wrapped in toji's jersey, oversized and undeniably his.

"wait, isn't that toji's?"

"yeah... why does she have it?"

"does she know him like that?"

you hear the whispers behind you, feel the stares burning into your back, some confused, some sharp with irritation. your stomach twists, a knot tightening deep in your gut as you clutch the jersey in your fist, gripping the fabric like it might somehow shield you from their scrutiny. you shift your weight, fighting the urge to shrink into yourself and disappear into the crowd. you nervously take a bite of your hotdog even though the energy you feel around you just killed your appetite.

cowering away isn't an option anymore, the cheerleaders have already seen you. and judging by the way some of them are glaring, they're not glad to see you. one of them makes a sharp scoff you can hear since your standing behind her on the bleachers, and it makes your heart sink. their boyfriends are the stars of the show, they should be the ones getting all the attention, but here you are. tucked away in an oversized jersey, the one that belongs to another girl's man, stealing glances and soft smiles that belonged to them. you don't miss the way they're eyeing you, how their perfectly manicured fingers tighten around their pom-poms, how their lips curl slightly.

"god, she's always here," one of them mutters to another under her breath, but it's loud enough for you to hear.

"it's pathetic," another sneers. "she's not even that pretty."

you swallow hard, fingers twitching at the hem of the jersey.

you knew this was coming, they've never liked you. always had something to say about how you looked, what you wore. they picked you apart about everything, and this moment brings you back to memories you'd rather forget. the worst part is, they aren't wrong. you aren't like them. you aren't a cheerleader. you don't have perfectly styled hair or expensive clothes, or the confidence to walk across campus like you own the place. you're just... you.

"focus!" coach nanami barks at the team, blowing his whistle. "game starts in five!"

you squeeze the jersey tighter in your fist, finger's twisting into the heavy fabric. okay, maybe this whole thing was a mistake. maybe you should've stayed home, watched the game from your dorm, spared yourself the humiliation—

"oi."

your head snaps up at the sound of a voice, deep and rough, cutting right through the chatter. the whispers die down almost instantly, and suddenly toji is right there. standing in his newer jersey he ran off to retrieve.

he's not looking at the crowd, not sparing the cheerleaders a glance, not paying attention to anyone except you.

"toji?" you ask, craning your head up as he reaches out, his rough fingers grazing your thigh as he tugs at the hem of his jersey. he's making sure it's still snug on your body and doing its job to keep you warm. "aren't you gonna go play?"

"yeah, i am." he mutters, but his eyes don't leave your face. his jaw tightens, turning his head to the side just for a second before he scoffs. "just didn't like the way those bitches are ogling at you." it takes you a moment to realize who he's talking about, so you shift slightly, leaning past toji's broad frame, and sure enough—you see the cheerleaders. their glossy lips are curled into little sneers, arms crossed, their eyes locked onto the two of you like they're barely restraining themselves from marching over. yeah, the loser nobody hangs out with gets to wear a football player's jersey, so what? you want it to be a silent flex that you took their man. but the practical part of you takes over, and you quickly duck back behind toji. your fingers curls around his sleeve as you press yourself against his chest.

"that's cute," he huffs out a laugh as he feels the top of your head on his abs, shaking his head. "you gonna hide beneath me all night?"

"no..." you, admittedly, felt safe hiding beneath him, as if he were a shield for everyone's current awkward staring.

"wait... are they actually—"

"what? since when?"

toji smirks, knowing exactly what he's doing, he wants them to see. "there," he murmurs, giving the fabric one last tug before letting it go. you blink up at him, lips parted, unsure of what to even say. he just grins, reaching out to ruffle your hair before turning back toward the field.

"don't move," he calls over his shoulder, voice teasing as he jogs to join the rest of the team. "gotta win this game for our girl, yeah?"

you've been holding your breath the entire time.

watching as toji plows through the defenders, and sukuna stiff-arming a smaller player on the opposing team so hard he hits the ground. "too slow, dumbass." he sneers before launching the ball across the field to geto, who catches it effortlessly, barely breaking his stride. choso is calm, his eyes narrowed as he watches the other players. the moment he sees geto launch the ball into the air towards him, he sprints. weaving through the players with percussion and catching it before tossing the ball to gojo.

you can't look.

the pressure it too much, the pounding of your heart against you ribcage is deafening in your own ears as you swallow thickly and squeeze your eyes shut.

then—

the stadium buzzer blares, the announcer screaming into the microphone, "TOUCHDOWN SCORED BY GOJO SATORU!"

they won... your boys won!

the stadium erupts, a deafening mix of cheers and screams shaking in the air as everyone jumps up, hugging and celebrating. on the field, the players swarm each other, a chaotic mix of bodies clashing victory. you catch a glimpse of the opposing team, some shaking their heads, others already trudging off the field in defeat. their coach looks like he's about to lose his mind, throwing whatever was in his hands to the ground before gripping his hair in frustration.

"yes!" you cheer, arms flying up as you beam at the celebration around you. the energy is overwhelming, everyone’s screams ringing in your ears. without thinking, you immediately rush down from the stands and onto the field. to no surpise, gojo is already rushing towards you. your feet barely hit the ground before he grabs you first by your waist, lifting you up effortlessly. "did you see that?! we won!" he laughs, spinning you around.

"i saw!" you giggle, clinging onto his shoulders. the second he sets you back on the ground, sukuna swiftly grabs you next, pulling you into his chest as he smirks against your ear. "cheered the loudest for me, huh? knew you would, sweetheart." his usual smugness is dripping from his voice.

"delusional," geto scoffs, pushing sukuna aside as he wraps his arms around you, hugging your head and inhaling the scent of your strawberry scented shampoo that still lingers in your hair. "i knew you wouldn't let us lose."

choso pulls you in next, his arms are tight but warm as he lays his head on the top of yours, murmuring a quiet, "our good luck charm."

you don't spot toji anywhere as you turn your head to scan the field, then he appears right behind you, tugging you out of geto's grip and spinning you around to look at him.

he's soaked in sweat and breathing hard, but his grin is wide and all for you. he hugs your waist tightly, "we won, baby." his voice is low, warm.

"i know, congratulations!" you breathe, grinning so hard your cheeks ache.

"don't congratulate us, sweet thing." gojo says, playing with a strand of your hair. "we owe it all to you."

"and you looked so damn cute watching us do it." toji adds, his hand squeezing your waist

before you can even roll your eyes, he yanks you up off of your feet. you gasp, legs dangling as his lips crash against yours.

the kiss makes your head full fuzzy, heat and hunger forming in your core. toji's hands are gripping your waist like he can't stand the thought of letting you go. your fingers twist into his jersey—well, his other jersey since you're still swaddled in his old one.

you forget about those lingering stares, the whispered remarks, the cheerleaders who looked at you like they wanted to murder you, the jealous glances thrown your way. the world around you slowly seems to go silent, no crowd, you judgment, nothing—just you and your boys.

"hey, don't hog her, old man," sukuna grunts, yanking you from toji's arms and into his own. his sharp grin is wicked, his hands wandering down to your plump ass and he gives it a rough squeeze,

“sukuna!" you yelp, giggling.

"sukuna," choso warns, but the way his grip on your wrist tightens betrays him too, doesn't want to let you go.

"what? can't help it." sukuna shrugs, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of toji's jersey draped over you, flipping it over your skirt as the cold air kisses your exposed skin. sukuna sharply inhales your scent, hugging you close as his whispering voice sends a sharp jolt through you. "not my fault she's so sexy."

your breath catches, but the guys don't miss it. they never do.

"getting shy, sweetheart?" geto teases, stepping behind you. "you were so confident screaming for us just a second ago."

"s'not fair," you mumble, suddenly aware of the way they're all looking at you with hungry stares. the boys who just won the biggest game of the season and only want one thing to celebrate groping you in front of everyone.

"no?" gojo tilts his head with faux innocence, "then what is fair? 'cause i think we deserve a proper reward, don't you?"

“alright, that’s enough of this,” toji grunts, he hauls you up and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. "let's show her what we really want."

“toji—?!” you squeak, your hands immediately gripping the back of his jersey as you lift your head, turning it to look at him.

“relax, sweetheart,” he says, giving your ass a playful smack that makes you jolt and kick your leg. “time for the real celebration.”

the others don’t even question it, if anything, they’re laughing, trailing closely behind as toji strides off the field with you in tow. you were always meant to end up like this, a girl in her skimpy little outfit being carried like a sack of potatoes on a man's shoulder.

“what makes you special enough to have her all to yourself?” choso huffs, his jaw ticking as his dark eyes lock onto yours. he drags his tongue over his bottom lip, slow and deliberate. with that, you remember how his cock felt in your mouth, the weight of him on your tongue, the warmth of his cock stretching your mouth, the way he groaned when you took him deeper. heat floods your face, your breath hitching at the memory. you swallows hard and immediately advert your gaze which makes him chuckle.

“well, she is wearing my jersey.” toji smirks, gripping your asscheek again as you wiggle in his hold. you feel his arm tightening over you, “keep squirming, and we’ll handle you right here.” he warns, his voice is smooth but you don’t miss the promise.

that shuts you up, you slap your hands over your face even though you wouldn’t mind if they took you right here, on the field for everyone to see.

you turn your head back around just in time to watch the last of the crowd start to clear out—parents, students, faculty leaving the stands and off the field until it’s quiet, until it’s just you and them. the atmosphere is still heavy with the buzz of the win, but none of that matters now. it’s just you and your boys alone on the field, their footsteps are slow behind toji, trailing you both across the field and toward the locker room doors. you can feel their eyes burning into your body. winning the championship wasn’t enough for them, toji’s carrying the real prize on his shoulder right now, anyways.

you know exactly how this night is gonna end.

toji carries you inside of the locker room, arms snug over your lower back. the humid air thick with sweat, musk, and testosterone floods your senses, dragging you back in time. “can you take dick, pretty girl?” your breath catches in your throat as your brain goes back to the first time you were ever here, pressed against sukuna’s muscular body, clawing at his broad shoulders and struggling to hold yourself together as you got your guts rearranged and pounded. your thighs press together as the throbbing between your legs returns, your chest rises and falls too fast, fingers tangling in toji's jersey.

“you’re quiet all of a sudden,” gojo murmurs behind him, looking at you. “what’s wrong?”

you look up at him, head titled slightly with your lips caught between your teeth.

sukuna leans in close, his grin sharp. “she remembers," he clicks his tongue. "don’t you, baby?"

of course you do. how could you forget? it was your first time getting fucked, your first time getting your poor virgin cunt stretched open by huge athletic dick and they didn't even bother to go easy on you. you remember the way you sobbed, begging for the break you never got.

how could they forget?

“she’s getting all shy,” geto teases, reaching out to brush his knuckles down your arm as you cling onto toji’s back.

“actin' like we haven’t seen every inch of this pretty body,” toji chuckles, squeezing a greedy handful of your ass as he shifts his hold, cradling you in his arms bridal style before he lowers you down so you can sit on the bench.

you sit in front of them, shrinking beneath their gazes, surrounded. everywhere you look is a tall, horny body that's already had you and wants you again. deja vu settles into you as you swallow thickly, looking up and giving them doe eyes.

choso steps forward, fingers curling around your waist, thumbs pressing lightly into your hips. he bends to your height, his dark eyes stare into yours as he tilts his head with a soft expression. “do you remember how it felt?” he whispers, voice ghosting over your lips. “right here, on this bench? you were shaking so bad.”

your eyes soften as you nod, slow and shy, lips parting just slightly.

"aww," gojo coos, grinning at you as he crouches beside you. "she's nervous. you're not scared of us now, are you?"

"i'm not," you whisper, voice small.

you say you aren't nervous, aren't nervous for another around of five dicks taking you again, that sounds amazing in your mind, in fact, but your body language gives you away. your fingers twist at the hem of toji's jersey, and your breath stutters when choso's hand grazes your shoulder, his palm warm against your skin.

“she’s remembering how good i felt inside of ‘er,” sukuna chimes, his voice dark with amusement as he leans against the wall, arms crossed. “bet her cute little pussy’s already making a mess in those panties.”

“i think she liked it too much last time,” geto hums. his fingers slip beneath jersey, dipping into the waistband of your skirt, he tugs the fabric off of your belly gently, letting it snap back against your skin. “look at her squirm.” you gasp slightly, feeling geto’s fingertips trace patterns across your stomach.

toji’s hand returns to your thigh as he takes a seat on the bench next you, thumb drawing lazy, possessive circles just beside the edge of your panties. “still so soft,” he mumbles. “you want it again, don’t you?” he’s looking at you, green eyes trailing over your features. “you wanna feel our dicks streching every opening you have out?”

truth is, you’re not shy because they’ve fucked you before. you’re wondering if they’re noticing the acne dotting your cheeks, if they think your braces make you look juvenile, if your glasses—those stupid, ridiculously thick things—make your eyes look comically big. you glance away, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“hey,” toji murmurs, voice dipping low as his hand catches your chin, turning your face gently back to him. “don’t hide. you look so fucking cute like this.”

you glance over at him, lips parted and your breaths shallow. there’s no hiding it right now, they read you an open book. the heat in your chest spreads all the way to your core. a smile curls across your face, right now you’re just a shy, but eager thing. “yeah,” you breathe. “i do.”

“see? there’s our smile.” toji grins down at you, pinching your cheek playfully before standing upright and steppiing back. “hmm,” sukuna hums, already stalking closer. “you’re still wearing too many clothes.” his fingers tug at the hem of the oversized jersey still draped over your body, his jaw ticks, eyes narrowed. “you should be wearing mine.” he mutters beneath his breath, a smug look curling his lips.

“strip.”

the single word cuts though the air. you immediately snap your head up at sukuna as his words cut through the air. your heart skips beats as your lips part. you blink, pulse thudding in your own ears. they—they want you to take your clothes off? right here, in front of them? by yourself? you hesitate for a bit, and the air around you grows hot and still, five sets of eyes are locked in you now, and they all look like they’re about to pounce on you.

“uhmmm,” you scratch your head, blinking. “you… want me to get naked?”

“duh.” geto says, smirking as he crosses his arm. “you’ve got two hands for a reason.”

the others chuckle lowly, the kind of laugh that sends heat crawling up your neck. your eyes flick between each of them, choso watches you with that quiet, shy, pink-colored blush across his cheeks, he’s patient. toji leans back with a knowing smirk, like he’s already seen this play out in his head. sukuna looks like he’s gonna tear those damn clothes off of you himself, his jaw tight. gojo’s gaze is steady and unreadable, but you know he’s growing impatient as well. and geto? he’s already palming his heavy, budging cock through his uniform, shameless and nearly shaking with arousal.

“hm, okay!” your fingers curl beneath the hem jersey as you pull it over your head, gently placing on the bench behind you. you pull your shoes off then your socks, leaving you in nothing but your crop top and your miniskirt. the cool air in the room brushes your exposed skin, hardening your nipples beneath your shirt. you slowly begin to lift your top, rolling the fabric up inch by inch, reaching the soft swells of your breast. their gazes don’t waver, if anything, they darken. then comes your skirt, you hook your thumbs under the waistband, shimmying down your hips, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. now, you’re standing before them in nothing but your magenta thong.

“fuck,” toji exhales, his eyes darkening as he looks you over. “you look even better than i remember.”

they can see the outline of your cunt, the thin strip of your soaked thong barely covering anything. the shiny jewelry in your belly button catches the light, drawing attention to how it glistens so perfectly against your skin. choso silently moves toward you, gently spinning you around until your back rests against his chest. he leans down, brushing his lips against yours in a soft kiss. you follow suit as you move your arm to cup his face with your hand. his palms glide over the soft curve of your belly, squeezing your waist before one hand snakes down past the band of your panties.

you gasp into choso's mouth as your tongue laps around with his, his fingers sliding between your slick folds. you feel their hands all over your body, tracing your hips, brushing your arms, tugging the thin band on your panties that could easily rip. the way you feel so open, right there and available makes you hornier than ever. gojo's in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pressed his bulge onto your barely cunt through your thin lace thong. your eyes fly open as you feel it, the pulse right beneath you and begging to feel your warm walls gushing around it when you cum. someone's lips are on your neck, their teeth gently scraping your skin. you can tell it's geto's breath brushing against the shell of your ear, his hands palming your soft, plump sss as his fingers curl into the plush of it.

choso pulls back from the kiss, a line of spit connects your lips to his as he stares down at you. "you gonna be good for us, pretty girl?" he huffs, catching his breath after kissing you. "bet that mouth of yours could make us all see starts." before you can even answer, gojo presses his twitching cock through his uniform harder against your wet cunt, feeling your juices start to leak out and seep through the fabrics. "you remember how good we made you feel last time, hm? how sweet you sounded with your mouth full?" he laughs softly as he feels you tremble, pressing a kiss on the side of your face.

choso slides his hand along your waist, eyes soft but dark with lust. "you can handle us," he murmurs. "we'll go slow. or not." his fingers hook beneath the band of your panties as he tugs them down until they pool around your ankles, leaving your cunt exposed for all of them to see. he picks you up, carrying you back to the bench, your back pressed against his back. "spread it, show everyone how much you want it." he whispers into your ear. you spread your puffy cunt apart, showing off your glistening pink insides. "like this?" choso keeps your legs up by locking his arms around the back of your knees, making sure you're absolutely on display and vulnerable.

"fuck, she looks so delicious and innocent." you hear someone murmur. you watch toji crouch down between your legs, licking his lips and staring at your leaking cunt. "been thinking about how sweet this pussy tastes since last time. "aaah!" a whimper slips out of your mouth as he lowers his head and licks a long stripe up your slit. the moan that rips from your mouth is cut short, because sukuna grabs your jaw and turns your head towards him.

"you're not getting off that easy, open up and let me feed you this dick." he doesn't wait for you to nod, his twitching cock is already thick and heavy in his hand as he pressed it against your lip. "and don't use your teeth, we can't have those braces getting in the way, can we?" your body jolts as toji's tongue flicks against your clit, hot and relentless, and you part your lips on instinct, letting sukuna slide past your tongue. the stretch burns, but you moan around him anyway.

"that's it," sukuna growls, one hand tangled in your hair and the other cradling your jaw as he starts to fuck your mouth slowly. "fucking perfect." toji groans between your legs, fingers spreading you wider as he licks you open. "she's dripping," he growls. "tastes like she's been waiting for this."

above you, gojo chuckles, cock already out and twitching in his hand. your lips are stretch around sukuna's dick gojo grabs your hand and sticks his cock inside, you instinctively stoke it as gojo reaches down to your cunt to gather your slick and spread it all around his shaft. your hips twitch against toji's face, trying to grind down and he answers with a rough suck to your clit that makes you moan around sukuna's dick as he grabs a handful of hair from the back of your head and forces your head against his pelvis.

"she's close," choso says as he watches, feeling your body jerk against him as he moves one of his hands to play with your boob. and that's when you feel another tongue making laps around your clit alongside toji's. your eyes fly open as you pull sukuna's cock out of your mouth to watch geto and toji licking your pussy like it's the best thing they've ever tasted.

"guys—aaah!" you whimper, grinding harder against both of their faces and you feel it, you feel yourself squirt as the move move to watch it. "good girl!" toji praises as him and geto lap up your juices, geto moves a bit lower to clean up the mess you just made that's leaking down into your tightest hole. your jaw aches, throat raw from taking sukuna so deep, and your arm burns from how tightly you're stroking gojo, but you don't stop. you can't stop. not when toji and geto are making you see stars with their tongues, their mouths warm and wet, taking turns sucking and licking until your thighs twitch uncontrollably.

and through it all, choso keeps you steady in his lap, hands soft on your tits, fingers rubbing your nipples until they're painfully hard and sensitive.he's murmuring against your temple, saying things you can barely hear over the moaning and slick sounds around you.

then, slowly, the touches start to fade.

toji pulls back from between your legs first, his mouth wet with your slick. "look at you," he pants. "fucking wrecked already." you whimper as geto presses one last kiss on your clit before rising to his feet, eyes dark and hungry. gojo huffs a soft laugh, grabbing your chin and making you look at all of them standing over you now.

"who's taking her first?" sukuna grunts, still stroking his cock lazily in his hand. "she's soaked."

"i'll do it," toji says without hesitation, already peeling off his clothes, his cock thick and hard as it bounces free. "i need to feel that tight little pussy gushing around my cock." choso eases you off his lap and helps you lie back on the bench, legs still trembling and glistening. your limbs feel like jello, but you arch your back on all fours, aching for more.

toji steps between your legs, his hands rough as they grab your hips and drag you toward the edge. he spreads you open with his thumbs, groaning at the sight of your dripping hole. "still so fucking wet," he mutters. "you want me to stretch you out, baby?"

you nod helplessly, tongue still thick from sukuna's cock. your voice comes out soft and ruined. "yes... please." you arch your back deeper snd sway your ass, your cunt clenching desperately around nothing and begging to be filled up to the brim. you look back at toji with glossy eyes as your cheek is pressed against the bench

toji holds the base of his thick cock, dragging his fat mushroom tip between your slick folds as it bumps your clit with makes you mewl. "mmmph, p-put it in already!" you softly beg, which makes the guys chuckle. "she's so cock drunk already, dumb little whore." gojo teases. toji lines himself up and pushes inside, slow at first-but he's big, and you feel the burning stretch all the way to your lungs. your back arches with a cry ripping from your throat.

"fuck, she's tight," toji groans, hands bruising on your hips as he starts to thrust, steady and deep. you feel his tip pushing so far inside of you, poking your gut as you wrap your arm around you belly, feeling the shape of his dick bulging through you. he lands a glob of spit onto your asshole, rubbing it around your little hole with the pad of his thumb as he starts to slowly slip it inside.

the others circle around, watching, stroking themselves, eyes locked on where tojl's cock disappears into your soaked cunt over and over and dragging out covered in a thick sheet of your slick. "look at how she's gripping him," gojo murmurs, his hand sliding down your throat, thumb resting just under your jaw. "bet she's gonna cum just from getting filled."

"won't last long," sukuna smirks, fisting his cock. "not when she's clenching like that."

toji grins down at you, sweat dripping from his brow. he watches as a white ring of your arousal bubbles at his shaft, his cock starts to leak precum which makes it easier from him to slip in and out of you faster as he picks the up the pace. your plush ass jiggles against his abdomen as he yanks your free arm behind your back. "you gonna cum for me first, sweetheart? show them how good i fuck you?"

your body answers before you can. the orgasm tears through you suddenly, violently, your legs kicking, cunt pulsing around toji's cock as he growls and fucks you through it. you're barely holding on, legs trembling, body slick with sweat and spit and cum. tojl's still panting above you, cock twitching as he pulls out and lets your pussy drip down onto the bench, but not before he buries himself until his red tip is flush against your cervix, releasing his own load of hot, stick cum as it squirts out in thick ropes. he licks his lips as he looks at your raw, pink hole—all stretched open and used :( you think maybe they'll let you rest, after they all watched you get fucked like that, there’s only so much a girl can take.

they don't.

"you didn't think we were done, did you?" sukuna laughs, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you over like you weigh nothing. you squeal, dizzy, arms trembling as you brace yourself on all fours. choso is already lying back on the bench, thick cock standing straight up between his legs. "come here, baby," he murmurs, pulling you toward him. you straddle him instinctively, thighs trembling as you lower yourself onto his length, your cunt already dripping and eager as his tip starts to split your entrance open. he groans, head tipping back with his hands gripping your hips to keep you steady. "fuck—just like that."

sukuna's behind you again, his cock resting heavy between your cheeks, "hold her open," he barks, choso's hands slide to your ass, spreading your cheeks apart and holding you open wide for sukuna's gaze. your breath catches. "you ready to take both?" choso groans, lining himself up beneath your drooling pussy while sukuna's cock rests against your tight, untouched hole. he spits, the filthy sound echoing in the locker room as lands on your hole. sukuna rubs the head of his against your rim, letting his precum smear around your hole with the spit. "she's shaking." choso breathes, looking up at with, concerned tangled with lust.

"she can take it," sukuna grins, grabbing a fistful of your hair. "she's our little toy, remember?" you breath catches, then turns into a scream as sukuna pushes histhe first stretch making your whole body tense. choso pushes into your soaked cunt at the same time sukuna starts to press into your ass, both of them groaning low as they stuff you full from both ends. it hurts-it burns-but it's so much, too much, and your body starts to melt into it.

"fuck, she's tight," choso hisses. "gripping me like she was made for this." sukuna moans against your back, lips brushing your spine. "she's squeezing me too," he pants. "she's fucking perfect." their thrusts start slow but get brutal fast. they pound into you like they're competing, their cocks dragging over every sensitive spot until you're screaming, drooling, babbling nonsense. you feel like you're going to break apart. choso’s hand slide to your hips to give your movement, “you’re taking us so well…” he whispers.

gojo's in front of you again, stroking his cock lazily. "look at her," he laughs. "fucked so dumb she doesn't even know what hole is getting filled."he grabs your face, slaps your cheek lightly, and taps his cock against your lips. “open up, baby.” you do, instantly, and he slides it into your mouth. you moan around him as sukuna slams into your ass and choso drives his cock deeper into your dripping cunt from beneath you. drool drips down your chin as he gojo feeds his fat cock to you. "good girl," he breathes, both hands holding your head steady as he starts to fuck your throat. "that's it. choke on it."

your body jolts with every thrust, stuffed to the brim, brain melted into nothing but desperate moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. you're just a hole for them now, for everyone, used and filled. behind you, sukuna bites into your shoulder and growls through his teeth. his thrust grown sloppier as he chases his high, you feel both of their cocks throbbing in both of your holes and your body jerks from the force of it. choso’s breath is hit against your chest, his moans muffled by your bouncing tits. the bench creaks under all of you. their bodies slapping into yours. then, they both cum at once, sukuna spilling into your ass, choso filling your pussy to the brim. as sukuna buries himself to the hilt in your ass and groans through his orgasm, choso bucks one last time into your soaked pussy and spills everything he has inside you. your body sags, twitching under the weight of it all-cum leaking from both holes, drool sliding from your lips.

you moan around gojo's cock as the hot rush of it floods you, leaking down your thighs instantly. a creamy mess of white oozes out from both your holes, slicking your thighs and pooling on the bench beneath you.

"fuck," sukuna hisses. "you're ruined."

"nah," choso murmurs, feeling his own cum start to force his cock to slip out of your pussy. "she's perfect."

"our perfect little cumdump," he breathes, reaching down to rub your clit with slow, lazy circles. "still twitching."

"and she's gonna take more," gojo growls, snapping his hips hard. "hold still." he groans as he slips is cock from your mouth, slapping it on your puffy lips before sukuna pulls out of your asshole, choso lifts your hips up as his own cum forces his cock to slip out.

you barely register the shift, feel strong arms hook under your knees, yanking you upright with shocking ease. your legs are bent, spread wide, and your arms are suddenly pinned up over your head, trapped behind gojo's neck as he locks you in place.

gojo groans, still fucking your cunt . he pulls out just long enough for geto to kneel between your legs, licking at your clit while gojo pushes into your pussy, still wet and dripping with choso's cum.

"full nelson, baby," gojo breathes against your ear, lips curling. "you ever been fucked like this?" his cock grinds between your slick folds, nudging your overstimulated clit. you can't respond, your voice is caught in your throat. your body bounces in his hold, tits jiggling, cunt clenching around him, already soaking wet and leaking down his shaft. he fucks up into you mercilessly, using you like a fleshlight while you whimper and twitch. "nah, didn't think so. let me show you how it feels to be completely helpless."

you can't even speak, then he trusts up into you, hard. your whole body jolts in his grip, helpless and suspended, your cunt stretched again and again as gojo fucked uo into you mercilessly. your tits brunch, spit and tears streak your face and your pussy drools around his cock, dripping everything choso left behind. "so full," gojo groans. "tight little hole milking me."

geto crouches in front of you, watching your ruined face with a hungry smile. "still drooling," he murmurs, before leaning in to suck your clit between his lips, his hand sliding up to cradle gojo's balls, massaging them gently. "fuck, look at her, gojo pants, snapping his lips harder. "can't even talk."

you can't. not when geto's tongue flicks your clit and gojo's cock hits that spot so perfect inside of you. "g-gojo! m' gonna cum..." geto crouches in front of you, watching your face twist with every thrust. "look how fucked out she is," he says, licking his lips. "still drooling." you look down at geto who's already looking up at you, making eye contact as you watch his tongue move so fast on your clit it's almost a pink blur.

he leans in closer, sucking your clit into his mouth with a rough pull that makes your eyes roll back. he doesn't stop there, his hand slides to cup gojo's balls, massaging them while gojo pounds you like he's trying to rearrange your guts. "still so fucking tight," gojo huffs, snapping his hips up hard. "you're gonna milk another load out of me, aren't you? greedy little thing."

your moan rips out of your throat as he lifts you higher, thighs trembling. his cock pushes in slow, stretching you open, making you feel every inch as he sinks into the mess choso left behind. you can't think. geto's tongue on your clit, gojo's cock pounding into your stuffed cunt, your body jerking from overstimulation and pleasure that borders on pain. "she's full," geto groans, tongue circling your clit while his hand reaches up to massage gojo's balls as they slap against your ass. your moans come in helpless little sobs, your body shaking as another orgasm crashes down on you.

"fuck, i'm close," gojo groans. "you feel that? gonna fill you up too, baby. you're gonna be dripping with all of us." gojo grunts as he buries himself deep and cums inside, warmth flooding you all over again, hips stuttering, and geto groans as he sucks at your clit until your whole body convulses. he laps up gojo's cum and your squirt as it leaks down his ballsack. gojo pulls out, putting you down and laying you back on the bench in the old cum.

when he finally lowers you down, your thighs are trembling, your holes leaking and fluttering.

they leave you there for a moment, gasping, twitching.

then toji grabs your chin and lifts your head. "show us."

you blink, dazed. "h-huh?"

"show us your pussy," gojo grins, sweat-slick and panting. "show us how messy you are."

they help you onto your back, spreading your thighs wide. you reach down with trembling hands, spreading your pussy lips apart to show them how absolutely ruined you are. thick, creamy cum leaking from your holes, glistening, sticky and shiny with sweat and spit.

your shaky fingers are still between your legs, holding yourself open, letting them stare at the mess they've made of you-every fold glistening with slick and cum, leaking down your thighs and soaking into the bench.

"don't close 'em," sukuna warns when your legs start to tremble. "keep it spread, slut. you wanted this, remember?"

you nod weakly, your face burning, throat too raw to speak.

"good girl," gojo grins, ruffling your hair like you're some dumb little pet. "now show us how much you love it. c'mon—play with that messy little pussy, make it nasty."

your breath hitches, but you obey. fingers dipping into the warmth leaking out of you, smearing it over your clit. your legs jerk instantly, the overstimulation sharp and brutal, but you keep rubbing slow, wet circles, cunt twitching as they all watch.

geto crouches beside you again, brushing a thumb down your cheek. "look at that," he murmurs.

"you're so ruined, and you're still getting off. are you proud of yourself, little cumrag?"

"say it," choso mutters, hand wrapping around his half-hard cock again. "tell us what you are."

"i'm-i'm your c-cumrag," you whimper, eyes filling with tears as you keep touching yourself. "just your-fuck—just your hole. i like it. i wanna be used. i wanna be filled-again—"

"she's close again," gojo says with a laugh. "what a filthy fucking girl."

you cry out, hips jerking as you rub yourself harder, the pressure bubbling too fast-your whole body shaking as another orgasm slams through you, muscles tensing so tight you nearly collapse.

"fuck, you're so cute when you break," sukuna huffs.

you go limp, breath ragged, your fingers still slick with their cum and your own.

then, finally, someone lifts you up.

"alright, you did good," choso says softly. "let's clean you up." he carries you into the showers as the others follow. you barely register it, too dazed to move on your own, but warm water starts to rush down your back. you're in the locker room shower, pressed to gojo's chest as he holds you upright while the others wash you off gently, soap slides over your sore body, rinsing away all the filth, but their touches linger-soft, teasing, affectionate.

"we'll get you dirty again soon," geto promises, brushing your hair back from your face with a kiss to your temple.

[dddyprv]

Hot Nerd Summer - G.S.

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.”

A/N. Hehehe I MISSED Nerdjo so I just had to…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[dddyprv]

STUCK WITH YOU - GOJO SATORU

summary. Gojo Satoru—strongest, cockiest, and, according to him, the hottest man alive—bows to no one. Until you came along and suddenly, he’s on his knees.

word count. 10.6k (i..dont know)

content. mdni fem! reader, zombie apocalypse au, violence, blood, pet names, satoru is a certified tease, cute banter because we love that here, they're so down bad for each other, smut, oral (fem rec.), p in v, loss of virginity (reader), praise, breeding, creampie, overstim, soft satoru <3

author's note. i miss my man

The sky had been burning when the world ended.

You were fifteen—just a kid with scraped knees and a heart too big for the horrors it was about to witness. 

Sirens wailed through the streets, helicopters thundered above, and the sharp stench of smoke and decay clung to the air like death itself. One moment, your parents were urging you to run, voices trembling with fear. The next, everything shattered. A scream. Blood. The gurgled breath of something that wasn’t quite human anymore.

You had survived. Somehow. Alone.

But the cost of survival was everything.

-

The woods are silent, save for the crunch of your boots over frostbitten leaves. The moon hangs high above, pale and cold, casting everything in an unforgiving glow. You keep your knife gripped tight in one hand, the other cradling your growling stomach. It’s been three days since you last found anything remotely edible.

Every snap of a branch, every whisper of wind feels like a threat. Years alone have trained you to expect the worst.

Then you pause.

Smoke. Just a wisp of it in the air. You sniff again, slower this time. It's faint, but definitely there.

You move like a shadow, quiet and cautious, weaving through trees toward the scent. And then you see it:

A flickering campfire nestled in a hollow clearing, throwing gold and orange light onto the figures beside it. Two men. Asleep—at least, you hope they are. One is lying flat on the ground, the other propped against a log, limbs long and sprawled, a blindfold covering his eyes.

There’s food by the fire. Real food. Bread. Cans. Water.

You inch closer, heart hammering. It’s been years since you’ve seen other people. You don’t know if that makes this moment safer… or far more dangerous.

You creep into the circle of warmth, fingers itching toward the supplies. Just one thing. That’s all you need.

You barely breathe as you crouch beside the campfire, the heat brushing against your frozen skin like a long-forgotten comfort. Your fingers tremble as you reach for a loaf of bread—real bread—but just as your hand closes around it, your boot nudges something metallic.

CLANG.

The tin can hits the ground, and for a moment, silence swallows everything.

Then—movement.

You whip your head toward the two figures by the fire. One shoots upright in an instant, long-limbed and alarmingly fast. The other groans awake, slower, disoriented. You don’t even have time to run.

"Don't move," the taller one says—voice low, commanding. You meet his gaze and—holy hell.

Snow-white hair, cerulean eyes. He stands like someone who’s fought the world and won. His blindfold hangs around his neck, exposing everything. It's him—the one with the voice that makes your skin prickle and a face that doesn’t belong in this nightmare world.

"Well, well," he drawls, taking a step forward. "And here I thought we were the only pretty faces left."

You swallow, frozen. His companion grabs a weapon, steps forward too, more cautious.

"Who are you?" the second man demands.

The white-haired man’s eyes never leave yours. He smirks.

"She’s hungry. Look at her. Poor thing."

You clench your fists. You’ve survived too long to be pitied.

"Touch me and I swear to god—"

The man raises his hands, mockingly innocent.

"Easy, sweetheart. No one’s touching you… unless you want us to."

You scrunch up your face, disgusted and his grin widens just a little.

You lift your knife. “I don’t want trouble. I just need food.”

“I’d say knocking over our supplies in the middle of the night is kinda trouble,” the dark-haired one says. His hair is tied back, strands falling loose around his face, his grip on his weapon steady. “Who are you?”

You swallow thickly. It’s been so long since anyone’s asked you that. Your voice is hoarse. “Just someone trying to survive.”

The white-haired one takes a lazy step forward, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Chill, Suguru. She’s not here to kill us,” he says, and then turns back to you. “You got a name, mystery girl?”

You eye him warily. “…Why do you care?”

He grins. “Because mine’s Gojo Satoru. And this grumpy one is Suguru.”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell her our names, dumbass.”

But Gojo—Satoru, apparently—just shrugs, looking far too amused for someone who just woke up to a stranger trying to rob him.

Your fingers tighten on your knife. But something about him… those eyes… that voice…

“You really gonna stab the guy who might be your best chance at staying alive?” he asks, cocking his head. “Come sit. Eat. Or run. Up to you.”

Your stomach growls loudly.

Satoru grins wider. “That’s what I thought.”

You slowly lower your knife, but don’t put it away—not yet. Your eyes stay locked on them as you inch closer to the fire. The warmth should be a comfort, but your muscles are still taut, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

Satoru sprawls back onto a log like he’s done this a hundred times. He’s still smiling—lazy, smug, like he’s enjoying this little show. Suguru doesn’t relax. He stays seated, but his eyes follow your every move, knife still held tight in his hand.

You kneel beside the fire, close enough to reach the food, far enough to lunge away if you need to. There’s a dented pot with some kind of stew, still warm, and a few pieces of bread wrapped in cloth.

“Help yourself,” Satoru says, waving a hand like he’s offering a royal feast. “We even warmed it up for you.���

You shoot him a glare but reach out cautiously, taking just a little. You sniff the stew first. Watch them.

“Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned,” Suguru says dryly.

“That’s what someone who poisoned it would say,” you mutter, tearing off a bite of bread.

Satoru snorts. “She’s got a mouth on her. I like her.”

You ignore that. Instead, you eat slowly, eyes flicking between them. They don’t move. Suguru keeps watch. Satoru lounges like this is the most interesting thing that’s happened all week.

“How long have you two been out here?” you ask finally.

“Long enough,” Suguru says, tone clipped.

"Too long," Satoru says, tossing a pebble into the fire like this is just another lazy night for him. "We move around, but we've got a base. Old prison, about twenty miles from here. You?"

You don’t answer right away.

“Alone,” you say after a beat. “I’ve been alone.”

The fire crackles between you.

Suguru’s gaze softens—just for a second. But Satoru’s smile stays.

“Well,” he says, stretching out his long legs, “you’re not alone anymore.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m not staying.”

“Didn’t say you had to.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But something tells me you might not leave either.”

He’s not threatening. He’s just… certain.

You’re crouched by the fire, still tense, still not entirely trusting, when Satoru leans back on his hands, head tilted.

“You should come with us,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You’ll be safer.”

Your eyes flick to Suguru—he doesn’t hide the way his jaw clenches.

“She could be a liability,” Suguru mutters. “You don’t know her.”

“No,” Satoru agrees, grinning at you. “But I like her.”

Suguru sighs, deep and disapproving, but you see it—that soft flicker in his eyes that means he’s already given in.

Satoru turns back to you. “We’re heading out at first light. If you’re in, pack whatever you’ve got.”

You nod, hesitant. But, maybe… maybe this is the start of something.

-

A gentle nudge to your shoulder. Then a voice, light and annoyingly cheerful.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. Big day today.”

You blink awake to Satoru crouching beside you, white hair a wild halo against the rising sun. He grins.

“You snore, by the way.”

“I do not.”

“You do. It was cute.”

You groan, dragging a hand over your face. “Remind me why I agreed to come with you again?”

“Because I’m charming,” he beams. “Now come on. We've got a long way to go—and Suguru’s already in a mood.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe he wouldn’t be if you stopped talking.”

“Ohhh, savage!” he clutches his chest, stumbling back like you just stabbed him. “You wound me, stranger.”

You roll your eyes and sling your bag over your shoulder. “Not a stranger anymore, remember? You practically adopted me last night.”

Satoru grins, falling into step beside you. “True. You’re my problem now.”

“Joy,” you mutter, but your lips twitch despite yourself.

Suguru’s already waiting up ahead, arms crossed, brow arched like he’s already tired of this nonsense. “You two done flirting or should I keep walking?”

You open your mouth to protest, but Satoru gets there first.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Suguru.”

“I will leave you in the woods,” Suguru replies flatly.

“You’d miss me in an hour.”

“You wish.”

You stifle a laugh and glance between the two. “Are you always like this?”

Satoru flashes you a grin. “Buckle up, sweetheart. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

-

The trek through the forest had been relatively quiet—birds rustled above, trees whispering overhead, and Satoru talking your ear off. But midway through the journey, something shifts.

Suguru’s head tilts first, eyes narrowing at the faint crunch in the distance. Not a squirrel. Not a rabbit.

You hear it next.

Low. Guttural.

A hiss.

Then another.

They come from the trees. Slow at first—one stumbles into view, then two, then more. Rotting limbs. Glazed-over eyes. That sickening gurgle of hunger.

“Aw, shit,” Satoru grins like it’s a party. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

Suguru already has his blade drawn, calm as ever. “Don’t play around, Satoru.”

“No promises.” He rolls his shoulders, cracking his neck with a sharp tilt. “Time to impress the new girl.”

The first zombie lunges—and Satoru moves. A blur of motion, too fast to follow. The undead’s head twists unnaturally before it even hits the ground.

Suguru moves more fluidly—clean, precise slashes. No theatrics. Just deadly efficiency. His blade slices through two more, not even a drop of blood on him.

But they just keep coming.

Your heart pounds in your ears. Adrenaline surges. You’d been careful to avoid confrontation all these years, but this is different. You're not alone anymore. And you won’t be dead weight.

You draw your blade—sharpened scrap metal turned makeshift machete—and steady your breath.

One charges. You duck, spin, and drive the blade clean through its skull. Another reaches for you. You kick it back hard, burying your weapon in its chest before pulling it free with a grunt.

Satoru whistles low. “Well damn.”

“Focus,” Suguru mutters, cutting another down.

You move together now, three separate forces of destruction.

Satoru’s grinning like a madman, whirling and laughing with every kill. “You seeing this? She’s got bite!”

Suguru flicks blood off his blade. “You could take a lesson from her.”

Zombies litter the ground within minutes. The forest falls silent again—except for your panting breaths.

Satoru walks over, brushing blood off his cheek. “Well, that was fun. You good?”

You nod, chest still heaving. “Peachy.”

“Okay, badass,” he says with a grin, then nudges your shoulder playfully. “I take it back. You’re not just some lost little stray. You’ve got some claws.”

Suguru simply gives you a once-over, silent approval in his gaze.

You sheath your blade. “Told you I could handle myself.”

Satoru grins wider. “Yeah, and it was hot.”

-

The journey's been long, your legs aching from the endless trek, your guard never once lowered—not even with Satoru’s ridiculous jokes or Suguru’s unnervingly sharp eyes on you.

But when the trees begin to thin and the rusted silhouette of a massive abandoned prison looms ahead—walls towering, fences lined with jagged barbed wire, and lookout towers standing tall like watchful sentinels—you feel something you haven't in years:

Hope.

Gojo stretches lazily, like the walk didn’t faze him at all. "Home sweet hellhole," he grins. "Bet you weren’t expecting this kind of palace."

Suguru doesn’t say much, just gestures for you to follow. The guards on the watchtower whistle low when they see the trio approaching, and the gates creak open. Inside, the prison yard is alive—people bustling, fires burning in steel barrels, children laughing (actual children), and survivors moving with purpose.

You're stunned. You didn’t think this kind of order still existed.

A kid runs up to Gojo. “Satoru! You’re back!”

“Obviously,” he winks, tossing his jacket at the kid. “Miss me?”

You stare, wide-eyed.

“You’re like… respected here?”

“Terrifying, isn’t it?” Gojo deadpans. “Stick with me, newbie. I’ll show you the ropes. Maybe even let you survive.”

Suguru glances back, quiet for a moment. “Don’t get too comfortable. It’s safe, but it’s not paradise.”

Gojo leans closer to you as you're led through the gates.

“Don’t worry. If anything tries to eat you—aside from me—I’ll kill it.”

Your face burns and he just smirks like he’s got you all figured out.

“Aww, don’t get all shy, now. Where’d all that bite from earlier go?” he teases, voice low and entirely too smug.

You shove him with a scowl, cheeks still flaming. “Shut up, lecher.”

He stumbles back with a dramatic gasp, hand clutching his chest. “Lecher? Ouch. You wound me, sweetheart.”

Suguru sighs ahead of you. “Ignore him. He gets like this when he’s not punched often enough.”

Gojo just throws an arm around your shoulders, unbothered and still grinning. “Admit it, you missed human interaction.”

You glare up at him. “I missed silence.”

“Too bad,” he chirps, “you’re stuck with me now.”

You follow Gojo through the looming gates of the old prison turned fortress, the creak of rusted metal echoing off cold concrete walls. The place is… intimidating, but secure. High fences, makeshift watchtowers, guards with weapons patrolling like hawks. Survivors glance your way—curious, cautious—but no one approaches just yet.

“Well,” Gojo grins, throwing his arms out dramatically, “welcome to paradise, sweetheart.”

You shoot him a glare, but before you can answer, a voice calls out.

“Don’t call new recruits that, Gojo.”

A tall woman leans against the infirmary doorway, cigarette dangling between her fingers, lab coat stained with faded blood. She looks you up and down, then flicks ash to the ground with a sigh.

“Ieiri Shoko. I’m the doctor over here,” she says. “You look like hell.”

“…Thanks?”

“She means ‘you’ll fit right in,’” Gojo says brightly, nudging your shoulder. “She’s got a warm heart under all that… nicotine.”

Before you can respond, another figure approaches—sharp, calculating, blond hair swept neatly back and a stern face that reads no nonsense allowed.

“Nanami Kento,” he introduces himself. “I hope you know how to follow rules.”

You stiffen slightly. “Depends on the rules.”

Gojo chuckles. “Play nice, Nanamin. She’s new.”

“And she’ll stay alive longer if she learns structure.”

You barely have time to absorb that before someone barrels into the conversation like a human golden retriever.

“Gojo-sensei! You’re back!”

A pink-haired young man skids to a stop beside you, eyes wide with excitement. “Whoa—new person?! Hi! I’m Itadori Yuji!”

You blink, overwhelmed by the sudden burst of energy.

“Yuji,” Gojo sighs fondly. “Tone it down a little, yeah? She’s been through it.”

Yuji’s smile softens. “Right, sorry. Still—welcome. You hungry? We’ve got canned peaches! They’re not that bad if you hold your breath.”

A scoff cuts through the chaos.

“That’s how you welcome someone? ‘Peaches if you hold your breath’?”

You turn to see a girl with sharp eyes, short auburn hair, and a confident stance stroll up like she owns the place.

“Kugisaki Nobara,” she says, hand on her hip. “Don’t let the dumb smiles fool you—Yuji’s annoying, but he’s not dangerous. Usually.”

Yuji pouts. “Rude.”

And last, from the shadows near the barracks, a low voice.

“Don’t overwhelm her.”

A tall boy steps forward, dark hair, brooding expression. Cold eyes meet yours briefly before shifting away like he’s already bored of this interaction.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

You blink. “Nice to meet you… all.”

“You’ll get used to the chaos,” Nobara says. “Eventually.”

Gojo’s grin widens, like a proud dad watching his weird little family.

“See? Told you you’d like it here.”

You’re not sure yet. But for the first time in years, you’re not alone.

-

The base is a repurposed prison, all concrete walls and rusted bars, but the way Gojo walks its halls, it might as well be a palace.

“Welcome to paradise,” he grins, pushing open a barred door that creaks like it’s complaining. “Don’t let the charming décor fool you. The rats love it here.”

You roll your eyes but follow him in. He gestures with a dramatic sweep of his arm. “Your very own cell—er, suite.”

The room is small, but clean. A bed shoved into one corner, a patched-up mattress, and even a chipped mirror on the wall. You nod, impressed despite yourself.

He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I gave you the one with a window. You can thank me later.”

You smirk and step back out into the hallway. “Trying to impress me, Gojo?”

“Oh, absolutely. I’m a peacock in the apocalypse, baby.”

You laugh under your breath and follow him down a narrow hall. There’s a dip in the concrete, a crack in the floor you don’t notice until your boot catches—your heart jumps as you pitch forward, but Gojo’s arms are immediately around you.

Strong. Steady. Warm.

“Careful now,” he murmurs, voice all silk and smugness. “You fell for me already?”

You’re pressed against his chest, your breath caught in your throat, face heating up. He doesn’t move right away—his hands settle on your waist, casual and intimate in a way that makes your stomach flip.

You shove him off with a flustered glare. “Shut up, lecher.”

He grins, wide and infuriating. “That’s more like it.”

The rest of the tour is quieter. You pass rooms where others sleep, the mess hall, the infirmary where Shoko’s set up shop. You even glimpse Yuji hauling supplies with Nobara snapping at him in the distance.

But then Gojo stops in front of a heavy iron door—no windows, no markings. His face changes. The joking fades.

“Whatever you do,” he says, voice low, “don’t go into the commissary. Not alone. Not ever.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. His blue eyes sharpen beneath his snowy lashes.

“Because even monsters like us keep our secrets somewhere,” he says softly. “And some doors are locked for a reason.”

You stare at him, heart knocking against your ribs.

Gojo Satoru, unshakable, untouchable… looking haunted?

Your skin prickles.

But he flashes you that lazy grin again, like nothing happened. “Now come on. You haven’t seen the courtyard. Yuji likes to wrestle people out there—it’s horrible. You’ll love it.”

And just like that, the moment passes… but the warning stays.

-

The rooftop’s quiet late at night.

The chaos of the base fades into a hush, just the distant hum of wind brushing over cracked cement and rusted fences. You lie back against the cool surface, arms behind your head, eyes fixed on the sky above. For once, it’s clear. A spatter of stars gleam like glass shards across a velvet sky.

You let yourself breathe.

No infected. No screaming. No fear.

Just the stars.

Footsteps approach—light, familiar, cocky.

“I knew you were a stargazer,” Gojo says, easing himself down beside you with a dramatic sigh. “You’ve got that dreamy, melancholic look. So poetic.”

You don’t look at him. “You’ve got that annoying, uninvited energy. So parasitic.”

He barks out a laugh. “Ow. You wound me, sweetheart.”

A beat passes. Then another.

You can feel him watching you, but for once, he doesn’t speak.

And somehow, that’s more unsettling.

“…You alright?” you ask, finally glancing his way.

He’s leaning back on his elbows, white hair messy from the wind, blue eyes locked on the stars—but they’re distant. Quiet. A far cry from their usual teasing glint.

“I’m heading out tomorrow,” he says casually. “Scouting mission. Few days tops.”

You blink. “Oh.”

Something flickers in your chest. It shouldn’t. Not like this.

“Oh,” you repeat, softer. “Right.”

A part of you wants to ask why he’s going. Another part wants to pretend it doesn’t matter. You settle for neither, chewing your lip, trying to ignore the weight settling in your gut.

Satoru glances at you then, his smirk lazy but his voice just a touch softer.

“Try not to miss me, yeah?”

You scoff. “I’ll throw a party the second you leave.”

“That’s what they all say,” he murmurs, leaning just a little closer. “Then they realize how boring life is without me.”

His smile is all mischief—but behind it, there’s something warmer. Something real.

And for once… you don’t fire back. You just look at him.

Maybe you’ll miss him a little. Just a little.

-

You don’t expect his absence to linger. But it does.

You feel it in the small silences—the way the mess hall feels quieter without his dumb jokes echoing through it, how sparring sessions feel colder without him barging in with some smug, offhanded comment about your form.

At night, you find yourself back on the rooftop. The stars are still there, but they don’t sparkle like they used to. It’s stupid, you tell yourself, because what kind of person starts depending on a man like that?

He’s loud. He’s infuriating. He teases you relentlessly.

But… he saw you. When you thought no one ever would again.

Shoko notices the way you’ve been spacing out more. She doesn’t say anything until the third night.

“You okay?”

You nod. Too quickly. “Fine.”

She squints at you. “You’re not fine. You’re moping.”

“I’m not moping.”

She clicks her tongue. “Acting like someone’s girlfriend.”

You nearly knock your cup over. “I’m not—!”

But you don’t finish that sentence. Because the words feel too close to something you’ve been avoiding.

You try to bury it—tell yourself it’s just concern. You’re just… grateful. It’s not like that. You don’t miss his stupid smirk or the way he always stands too close just to fluster you. You don’t care about how his hair always looks so damn soft, or how his voice drops a little when he’s serious with you.

You don’t.

You don’t.

Then the whispers start.

“No signal from the scouting team.”

“They were supposed to be back by now.”

A cold chill snakes down your spine.

You start going to the gate more. Just to check. You pretend it’s coincidence.

It’s not.

You catch yourself gripping the straps of your bag harder than usual. You’ve never hated waiting so much in your life.

Until one evening—

The gates finally creak open.

Your breath catches in your throat as the guards call out a name. Several figures walk through the archway, dust and blood clinging to their clothes.

And there he is.

White hair, blue eyes. One sleeve ripped off, a gash on his collarbone, dried blood staining his neck—but he’s alive.

“Satoru,” you whisper, already walking forward.

His eyes find yours instantly. That grin pulls at his lips like it never left.

“Aww, did you miss me?”

You don’t answer. You just hit his shoulder. “Idiot.”

But then your hands linger, and before you can stop yourself, you’re pulling him into a tight hug.

He stiffens, just for a second. Then his arms slide around you, strong and warm.

“Try not to cry too hard,” he mutters, voice light—but there’s something tight beneath it.

“I hate you,” you mumble into his shirt.

“Sure you do,” he chuckles, and when you pull back, his smile softens.

You don’t know what this feeling is. Or maybe you do. You just don’t want to name it yet.

But you know this: You’re glad he came back.

And for now, that’s enough.

-

You wander the halls of the prison alone, the hum of fluorescent lights above your head flickering inconsistently. Satoru had taken the kids out back for training, and with nothing to do and no one to bother you, you figured you’d finally explore the rest of the base.

The place was massive—too massive. Each cell block looked like the next, corridors looping endlessly into each other until your curiosity outweighs your sense of direction. One door, rusted and slightly ajar, catches your eye.

You should’ve turned around.

You push it open.

Inside is dark, dusty. Shelves line the walls, broken crates and old rations tossed everywhere. You wander deeper, hesitant but unaware. That is…until it hits.

The smell.

Rotting flesh, stagnant air, the thick, unmistakable stench of death.

And then—movement.

Shuffling. A low groan. Shadows twitch. A hand smacks against a shelf and knocks it over with a crash.

They're here.

Your eyes snap wide and panic sets in instantly. There are so many.

You run.

You shove a metal shelf in their path, throw an old stool, anything you can get your hands on to slow them down. Your breaths are shallow, desperate. But just as you near the exit—

Your ankle gives out.

A sick snap, searing pain, and you crash to the floor with a cry. You scramble backward, pressing yourself against the wall, using your good leg to kick anything that comes close.

This is it. This is it.

You squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding.

Gunshots.

The sound like thunder crashing right next to your ear.

You blink up, barely processing the white blur tearing through the undead like paper.

“I told you not to go in here!” he shouts, voice slicing through the chaos.

“Satoru—!”

The zombies turn just in time for Satoru to drive his fist into the nearest one’s chest, cracking bone and sending it flying back into the others like bowling pins.

“Seriously?” he growls, stepping in front of you, his broad back shielding your crumpled form. “I leave you alone for five minutes.”

One lunges from the side. Gojo ducks effortlessly, grabs it by the throat, and slams it into the ground so hard its skull splits open on impact. Another claws at his shoulder, but he just grabs its wrist, twists, and kicks out its knee in one brutal motion. It collapses, and he doesn’t even look as he drives a sharp piece of wood through its head.

And then—you're in his arms. Just like that.

Lifted effortlessly, pressed against his chest as he strides out of the hellhole.

You cling to him, trembling.

“I didn’t know it was the commissary,” you whisper between sobs. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know—I just—God, I’m so sorry, Gojo, I—”

His voice is low, firm, but gentle. “Hey. Breathe. I’ve got you.”

You look up at him, lip quivering. “I—I made you worry…”

“Yeah, you did,” he says with a wry little smirk, but his eyes are too soft, too relieved to match it. “Don’t ever do that again, got it?”

You nod.

“Good,” he murmurs, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from your face. “Because if I lost you... I’d have to kill the rest of the world just for pissing me off.”

Your breath hitches.

You stare up at him, heart pounding, face flushed from more than just the sprint for your life.

“W-What kind of psycho logic is that?” you mutter, trying to deflect, your voice barely steady.

Satoru smirks down at you, still holding you effortlessly in his arms like you weigh nothing. “C’mon, don’t act so surprised. I’m dramatic, haven’t you noticed?”

“You’re insane,” you whisper, trying not to combust under his gaze.

“And you’re blushing,” he points out smugly, nose nearly brushing yours. “Kinda cute, actually.”

You twist in his hold, hiding your face against his shoulder. “Shut up,” you mumble, voice muffled.

He laughs softly, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Can’t. Teasing you is the only thing keeping me sane these days.”

You can feel the tension slipping away, replaced by something heavier, warmer. He lowers you gently onto a nearby bench just outside the danger zone, kneeling before you like it’s second nature, hands skimming your calves as he examines your ankle again.

When he looks up this time, his expression is different. Less playful. More raw.

“I meant it, you know,” he says quietly. “You scared the hell out of me in there.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” he cuts in, hand brushing yours. “But next time, brat, wait for me. No solo adventures.”

Your lips twitch. “You’re calling me a brat now?”

“Borrowing the title. Think I earned it after saving your ass.”

You huff a laugh, cheeks still warm. “…Thanks.”

His grin softens. “Anytime.”

And just like that, you both sit there—his fingers still wrapped gently around your hand, his thumb rubbing absent circles over your knuckles—as the adrenaline fades and something else takes its place. Something quieter. Heavier. Charged.

-

Satoru insists on carrying you the whole way to the infirmary, ignoring your every protest.

“This is unnecessary,” you mutter, burying your face in his shoulder to avoid every curious glance.

“You twisted your ankle and almost got mauled. Humor me,” he says, smug but gentle, like the two can coexist in him with ease.

He kicks open the infirmary door with his foot.

“Delivery for one idiot who wandered into a no-go zone,” he calls out casually.

Shoko looks up from her desk, raising a brow at the sight of you both. “Well, well. If it isn’t the base’s golden boy and his damsel in distress.”

“I wasn’t distressed,” you blurt out instantly, wiggling in Gojo’s hold.

“Oh?” she hums, amused. “You sure? Because I could’ve sworn I heard ‘Gojo! Help!’ from all the way down the hall.”

You splutter. “That’s not— I mean—”

“Loudly,” she adds with a pointed smirk.

Satoru just laughs and sets you down on one of the cots, his hand lingering a little longer than necessary on your back before stepping aside.

“She’s fine. Just the ankle,” he says. “But maybe check if she sprained anything else. She fell pretty hard.”

Shoko moves closer, completely ignoring the medical part for now, because she’s too focused on watching the both of you squirm.

“Ohhh,” she teases, eyes sparkling. “Look at the two of you. Cute. Almost like a couple.”

You and Satoru freeze at the exact same time.

“Nope!”

“Not a couple!”

“Definitely not!”

You shoot each other a panicked glance and then immediately look away, flustered messes in stereo.

Shoko snorts. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

You glare. “Can we just focus on my ankle now?”

“Fine, fine,” she drawls, clearly enjoying herself. “Just sayin’. Wouldn’t be the worst match. You get saved, he gets to play hero. Very fairytale.”

“I hate all of this,” you mutter under your breath, while Satoru just smiles to himself, unbothered but definitely pleased.

When Shoko starts wrapping your ankle, he leans against the wall with his arms crossed, watching.

And you swear you see it—that tiny, knowing glint in his eyes.

Like he wants her to say it again.

Because maybe, just maybe… he doesn’t mind the idea.

-

It’s later that night when there’s a knock at your door. You’ve barely had time to settle in, still awkwardly hobbling around on one foot with your bandaged ankle.

“Who is it?” you call.

“It’s your favorite,” comes the unmistakable voice from the other side.

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the tiny smile tugging at your lips. “Didn’t know Nanami suddenly got chatty.”

A muffled chuckle. “Ha. Hilarious. Open up.”

You limp to the door and unlock it. Satoru is standing there, a little disheveled, hands full.

“Brought you dinner,” he says casually, holding out a tray with two mismatched bowls, steam still curling from the soup. “Figured you might be tired of Shoko’s painkillers and snark.”

You blink, caught off guard. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” he says dramatically, stepping in without being invited. “That’s what makes me so noble.”

You laugh despite yourself, and he grins like that was the goal all along. He sets the tray down on your little desk, then gestures toward your bed.

“Come on, sit. Can’t have you falling over again. One near-death experience per day is my limit.”

You sit, trying not to look too charmed when he settles next to you—close, but not too close—just enough for your knees to brush.

“I still feel terrible about earlier,” you say after a moment, poking at the edge of your bowl. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You didn’t worry me,” he says too quickly, too nonchalantly.

You glance up. “Liar.”

He sighs and leans back on his hands, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Fine. Maybe I panicked a little. Sue me.”

A silence lingers, not uncomfortable. Just… warm.

Then, softer: “Don’t do that again, okay?”

You look at him, really look at him—the shadows under his eyes, the slight dip in his brow, the way his voice softens when it’s just you and him.

And something in your chest stirs. Something that’s been creeping in, slow and steady, ever since he offered you food by a fire that first night.

You nod. “I won’t.”

He glances over, catches your gaze—and doesn’t look away this time.

There’s something unspoken passing between you. Familiar. Intense. Safe.

“You’re really something, y’know that?” he murmurs.

You raise a brow. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

He smirks. “Depends. You gonna fall harder for me if it is?”

You flush instantly. “Satoru—”

He laughs and nudges your bowl toward you. “Eat before it gets cold, princess.”

You grumble under your breath but dig in.

And Satoru?

He watches you with that same lopsided grin, heart doing something stupid in his chest.

Because yeah—maybe you fell.

But maybe he’s been falling, too.

-

It’s past midnight when you stir.

The pain in your ankle has dulled to a throb, but it isn’t what wakes you. It’s… something else. A presence. Warm. Close.

You blink against the low glow of the hallway light seeping under your door, and when your eyes adjust—

You see him.

Satoru.

Slouched in the chair by your bed, long legs awkwardly folded, head tipped to the side, snowy hair falling across his face in soft, messy tufts. His mouth is slightly parted, breathing slow and even. His arms are crossed, like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep there.

Like he was just keeping watch.

Just in case.

Your heart does a little flip.

You shift quietly, trying not to make a sound. But even with all your care, the mattress creaks—barely. His eyes snap open immediately, hand twitching toward a weapon that isn’t there. Pure instinct.

Then he sees you. And relaxes.

“Oh,” he breathes, voice gravelly with sleep. “You’re awake.”

You sit up slowly. “Were you… here all night?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Not all night. Just since… y’know. Evening.”

You squint at him. “Satoru.”

He sighs. “Fine. Yeah. All night.”

You stare at him. “Why?”

He shrugs, suddenly sheepish. “Wanted to make sure you didn’t wander off again and get yourself eaten.”

You frown. “You should’ve slept in your room.”

He smirks. “What, and miss out on babysitting you?”

You chuck a pillow at him.

He catches it easily and grins. But when he sees you holding his gaze, that grin softens.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he admits, quieter now.

Something gentle settles in your chest. You pull your blanket up and scoot slightly to the side.

“…There’s space. If you’re tired.”

He blinks at you. “Are you asking me to cuddle, orrrr…”

You glare. “I’m offering you a more comfortable sleeping arrangement.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

He slides in beside you carefully, so carefully, like you’ll break if he jostles you too much. And then you feel the warmth of him next to you, his presence steady and solid and safe.

“…This okay?” he murmurs, his voice a whisper in the dark.

You nod.

And slowly, slowly, you feel his fingers brush yours under the blanket. He doesn't hold your hand—not yet. Just touches.

Testing the waters.

You don’t pull away.

And in the silence that follows, you hear his breathing even out again.

But yours?

Yours is all over the place.

-

Morning sunlight filters through the barred window, casting soft stripes across your face.

You're warm. So warm.

Your cheek is pressed against something solid. Something that rises and falls gently beneath you. And there’s a hand resting at the small of your back, pulling you closer, keeping you there.

Your heart skips.

Your eyes blink open—and there he is.

Gojo Satoru. Asleep. Face relaxed and serene, messy white hair haloed in gold light. His other arm is curled under your pillow, supporting your head like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And you're lying on top of him.

Your breath catches in your throat.

You should move. You need to move.

But just as you're about to untangle yourself—

Click.

The door creaks open.

You freeze.

“Oh my god,” comes Shoko’s voice, casual, amused, and way too smug. “Well, well—what do we have here?”

You nearly leap out of bed, scrambling to sit up—only for your body to protest painfully, and you wince with a hiss.

Satoru wakes with a start, blinking up at Shoko in confusion before slowly realizing the position you're in.

“Oh,” he says blankly. “Morning, doc.”

You swat his shoulder. “Say something useful?!”

Shoko just leans against the doorway, arms crossed, grinning like she’s discovered the world’s juiciest secret. “No no, don’t let me interrupt. I was just checking on the patient, but clearly, she’s in very good hands.”

You’re burning. “It’s not what it looks like!”

Shoko raises a brow. “Oh, so you weren’t cuddled up like two lovebirds all night? Should I tell Nanami you’ve finally found someone willing to put up with your nonsense, Satoru?”

He stretches lazily and pulls the blanket back over himself with a smirk. “Actually, yeah. Tell him. Maybe then he’ll finally stop lecturing me about responsibility.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. “I’m never going to live this down.”

Shoko chuckles, walking away. “Nope. I’m telling everyone.”

The door clicks shut behind her.

Silence.

You glare at Satoru through your fingers. “This is your fault.”

He grins. “You offered me a spot on the bed, your majesty.”

You shove a pillow at him. He catches it—again.

And then he smiles, soft and teasing, voice still a little raspy from sleep.

“...So. Want me to sleep over again tonight?”

“Get out.”

-

The first few days are rough.

You try to walk without limping. Try to reach for things on your own. Try not to feel like a burden.

But then there’s him.

You wake up to warm food at your bedside, Satoru leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin. “Brought you breakfast in bed, sweetheart. Don’t get used to it—I’m not always this nice.”

He very much is.

He offers his arm without asking when you need support. Doesn’t mention it when you wince or grit your teeth. Just lets you lean on him, like you’ve always belonged there.

You try to carry something heavy across the hall—he appears out of nowhere, snatching it from your hands. “Tsk. You trying to die or what?”

You try to help in the kitchen. He catches you wobbling and swoops in with a hand around your waist. “Whoa there, Bambi. What happened to ‘taking it easy’?”

You try to sneak off to explore the base again. He corners you in the hallway with a look that says absolutely not. “You’re still healing, brat. Unless you want me to carry you everywhere again?”

Cue your entire face combusting.

He’s annoying. Cocky. Ridiculously persistent.

But…

He adjusts your blanket when you’re asleep on the couch. Tucks a water bottle by your side without saying anything. Teaches you how to balance properly on one foot so your ankle can recover without straining the other.

And at night, when you think everyone’s asleep, you catch him checking on you—quietly, carefully. Making sure you’re okay.

You pretend not to notice.

But your heart notices. It notices everything.

-

You stand in the middle of your room, shifting your weight onto your healed ankle, then back again. No pain. No tightness. Just a deep breath and the quiet realization:

You’re better. Finally.

The door creaks open without warning—because Satoru never knocks—and in he strolls with his usual swagger and two mugs in hand. “Morning, sweetheart. Brought you—"

He stops in his tracks.

You’re standing. Not limping. Not clutching the edge of the bed for balance.

Just… standing.

He squints, slowly lowering one mug. “...Why aren’t you in bed?”

You raise a brow. “Because I’m not dying?”

“Oh no. Absolutely not.” He sets the mugs down and points a very offended finger at you. “You don’t just get to get better without warning me. I was emotionally invested in this arc.”

You laugh. “Sorry to ruin your Florence Nightingale fantasy.”

“Ruin? Excuse you, I was thriving. Who’s gonna let me spoon-feed you now?”

You roll your eyes, limping toward him just to mess with him. “I could pretend, if it makes you feel better.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He walks over before you can say anything else—his hands hover, cautious at first, then one slides to your waist. “You really okay?”

You nod. “I’m good. Really.”

Satoru lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Then he grins. “Alright. Guess that means I can stop being your personal nurse and go back to being your favorite nuisance.”

You’re smiling. He’s back to teasing. But there’s a softness in his eyes that lingers a little too long, a thumb that brushes your hip before falling away.

He missed taking care of you.

And maybe, just maybe, you kind of miss being taken care of.

-

You’re jogging laps around the edge of the prison yard, the early morning chill nipping at your cheeks. It’s peaceful—quiet enough that your footsteps and the rhythmic beat of your breath are the only sounds you hear.

Until a familiar voice breaks through the silence.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite brat, back in action.”

You slow down, a smirk tugging at your lips as you turn toward the voice—and promptly choke on air.

Satoru.

Stretching.

Shirtless.

His snowy hair tousled from whatever ungodly workout he’s been doing, sweat gleaming on the hard lines of his chest and abs like the universe conspired to craft a Renaissance painting just to spite you. His sweats hang low on his hips, revealing that infuriating V-line that should not be legal in a post-apocalyptic society.

You blink. Once. Twice.

He grins, catching the way your eyes are very not subtly stuck on him.

“Like what you see?”

You scowl, instantly turning your gaze to a very fascinating patch of dirt on the ground. “Please. I’ve seen better.”

“Mmhm.” He takes a deliberate step forward, arms crossing over his annoyingly perfect chest. “Name one.”

“...”

“That’s what I thought.”

You huff and start jogging again, forcing your eyes to stay forward. But then he jogs up beside you—shirtless and smug, of course—and easily matches your pace.

“You sure you’re fully healed? What if you, I dunno… trip and fall again?” he says, tone mockingly sweet. “Need me to catch you, princess?”

“I’d rather faceplant into a zombie.”

He laughs, low and lazy. “I dunno, that sounds painful. Better to land on something soft. Like me.”

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he nudges you playfully with his elbow, “you’re still jogging next to me. Who’s really winning here?”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth crawling up your neck. But deep down, you know.

He’s definitely winning.

-

After the jog, Satoru insists you “cool down” with some light sparring. You roll your eyes, but follow him to the training mats anyway. He’s already bouncing on his heels when you step in front of him, still shirtless, still smug.

“You sure you’re up for this?” he teases. “Wouldn’t want to break you again.”

“I’m more worried about bruising your ego,” you shoot back, taking your stance.

He whistles low. “Feisty. I like it.”

The sparring begins—light jabs, easy dodges. You’re nimble, focused, but he is... effortless. Every time you swipe at him, he ducks with a grin. When you go in for a kick, he sidesteps and lets out an exaggerated yawn.

“You done yet, sweetheart?” he asks, still dancing around you. “At this rate, I could do this blindfolded.”

“Shut up and hold still!” you lunge at him again—this time faster, bolder—but he grabs your wrist mid-swing and spins you around so fast the world tilts. Before you know it—

You’re pinned.

Back hits the wall. His hand holds your wrists above your head, other arm braced beside you. His body is dangerously close, breath fanning your cheek. His tone shifts, deeper. Rougher.

“You keep mouthing off like that,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming, “I might start thinking you want me to put you in your place.”

Your breath catches. “I—”

“Hmm?” he leans in, lips ghosting your jaw. “No witty comeback now?”

You try to move, but his grip tightens just slightly. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind you that this isn’t a game anymore.

“I could kiss you right now,” he whispers, “and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. “You wouldn’t.”

He smiles. Slow. Dangerous.

“Wanna bet?”

Your breathing is shallow, heat rising to your cheeks. You’re acutely aware of how close he is, the way his chest brushes against yours with every breath, the sharp glint in his eye, the smirk that’s far too smug for your sanity.

And then—

His lips graze your neck. Barely there. A soft brush of heat against your skin. You flinch—not out of fear, but from the jolt that shoots down your spine. Goosebumps bloom instantly. His breath tickles your skin.

“Sensitive,” he hums, lips ghosting up toward your jaw, “...cute.”

“Satoru—” you whisper, voice barely audible.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. His gaze drops to your lips, heavy and unblinking. And he leans in, slower this time, like he wants you to feel the anticipation. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat—

And then—

“AM I INTERRUPTING SOMETHING?”

You both jolt like you’ve been electrocuted.

Satoru spins around with a groan, still caging you against the wall. “Shoko. Seriously?”

She stands a few feet away, arms crossed, one brow cocked and a wicked smirk playing at her lips. “Wow. Could cut the tension with a scalpel. Should I come back later or just pass you a condom now?”

“Shoko,” you squeak, face on fire, squirming to escape Gojo’s hold.

He lets you go reluctantly, chuckling under his breath. “You wish you caught the good part.”

“I did catch the part where your face was buried in her neck like a starving vampire,” Shoko deadpans.

You bury your face in your hands.

Satoru just laughs. “You jealous?”

“Please. I'd rather not watch my coworkers dry hump in public,” she says, already turning on her heel. “Anyway. You two lovebirds done? I need one of you to help with supplies.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gojo waves her off. Then he glances back at you, still all flushed and flustered, and leans down one last time to whisper in your ear:

“To be continued, princess.”

And just like that, he strolls off like nothing happened.

You're left against the wall, heart pounding, neck tingling, completely and utterly undone.

-

It’s quiet for once.

Most of the clan is out on a supply run or patrolling the perimeter. You’d offered to stay behind, helping Shoko reorganize her medical supplies before wandering off with a basket of laundry—warm clothes folded under your arm as you pace the empty corridors of the prison, barefoot, relaxed.

You finally set the basket down in the communal quarters, humming under your breath while sorting through what belongs to who. It’s… peaceful. The late afternoon sun slants in through the high windows, bathing everything in warm light.

Until—

“Picking up where we left off?”

You jolt, nearly dropping the shirt in your hands.

Gojo.

Leaning against the doorframe, casual as ever, sleeves pushed up, hair a bit messy like he just woke from a nap. His eyes are glinting beneath the lazy droop of his lashes, and that smirk—that godforsaken smirk—is unmistakable.

He saunters in before you can get a word in.

“Geez, you sneak up on people like a damn ghost,” you mumble, cheeks already burning as you turn back to the laundry.

“Aw, don’t be shy now,” he teases, coming closer. “You weren’t so shy when I had you pinned against the wall.”

You stiffen. “You got interrupted. Big difference.”

“Oh? So you wanted me to kiss you?”

You glare at him over your shoulder, but he’s already behind you, arms slipping around your waist—loosely at first, giving you a chance to push him away.

You don’t.

“I was thinking about you,” he murmurs against your ear. “All damn day. Thought I’d come see how you were holding up without me.”

“I was fine,” you huff, but it’s so breathless it betrays you instantly.

He chuckles. “That right?”

His hands glide up your sides, slow and sure, fingertips teasing the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, sweetheart. Just admit it—you missed me.”

You turn in his arms, glaring—but it’s weak at best. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Maybe,” he leans in, forehead brushing yours, voice dropping, “but I still remember how fast your heart was beating last time.”

You swallow.

And this time? There’s no Shoko to walk in. No patrols due back. No reason to stop.

You hesitate for a beat.

And then you pull him in by the collar.

The kiss is feral. All teeth and tongue and breathless gasps. Weeks—months—of tension snapping all at once. His hands find your waist, gripping tight as he hoists you up like you weigh nothing.

“Fuck—” he groans against your lips. “You’ve been killing me, y’know that?”

You wrap your legs around his waist and tug him closer. “Good.”

He pulls back, grinning. “Oh, you wanna play it like that?”

You don’t get a chance to answer before he’s kissing down your jaw, your neck, dragging that maddening tongue of his down your collarbone. His hands are everywhere—palming your hips, your thighs, sliding under your shirt like he owns you.

Which, at this point, maybe he does.

“Tell me to stop,” he pants, hovering over your lips again. “Tell me now, and I will.”

You look him dead in the eyes, tug his shirt over his head, and whisper:

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Your back hits the nearest wall with a muffled gasp, Satoru’s mouth already on yours, hungry and hot. His hands roam your body like he’s memorizing it with touch alone, fingers tugging at fabric with a frustrated groan.

“Off,” he growls into the kiss, already pulling your shirt over your head like it's offended him. He sets you down to pull your pants down along with your panties. And the moment you’re bare before him, he stands back, breath catching in his throat. His eyes—icy blue and blown wide with lust—roam your figure, landing on your chest like he’s just been given the meaning of life.

“…Can I motorboat your tits?”

You blink.

You laugh, startled and breathless. “Are you—are you serious right now?”

His lips curve into a wolfish grin, and he’s already surging forward to kiss you again. “Maybe next time,” he mumbles between kisses. “I don’t think I can wait to taste you now.”

You arch a brow, teasing, breath catching when he trails his mouth down your jaw. “Next time?”

He chuckles, low and dark. “You think I’m letting you off the hook after this?” His hands slide down your waist, thumbs stroking your hips. “Nah, sweetheart. I’m gonna ruin you.”

Then he sinks to his knees.

The grin fades into something hungrier, more reverent as he kisses the inside of your thigh, dragging his teeth gently across soft skin. “Spread ‘em for me,” he says, voice a whisper but firm. And when you do, he groans like he’s just tasted something forbidden.

You cry out the second his tongue touches you, hands flying to grip his hair. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t want to. It’s slow, torturous—his pace deliberate as he works you open, devouring like a man starved. His moans vibrate against your skin, and when your legs tremble, he just pins them open wider, groaning, “That’s it… let me hear you, baby.”

Your back arches as Satoru licks another slow, devastating stripe up your core, tongue curling at your entrance before he moves to suck gently on your clit. Your fingers tighten in his hair, thighs instinctively trying to close around his head—but his arms loop under your knees, spreading you wider, holding you open like he owns you.

“You're not going anywhere,” he mutters, eyes flicking up, glazed over with lust and something dangerous. “Told you. I’m gonna ruin you.”

Then he’s back at it—slower this time, tongue flattening against you, then circling, dragging soft groans out of you as the tension coils tight in your belly. He eats you out like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you, savoring every movement, every moan he draws. He alternates between deep, dragging strokes and sharp, teasing flicks, lips closing around your clit to suck just hard enough to make your breath hitch.

You cry out, hips bucking up into his mouth, and he growls—low and throaty—as if turned on by how wrecked you already are.

"Fuck—so sweet," he groans, voice muffled against you. “Could stay down here all night.”

And he means it. He shifts slightly, tongue plunging into you now, slow and shallow, nose nudging your clit as he drinks in every sound you make like it fuels him. Every little tremble, every whimper—he devours it.

He doesn’t stop. Not when you start trembling, not when you whine his name in warning. He keeps going, lips slick and relentless, until—

Your vision whites out. Your body tightens, back bowing, mouth falling open on a silent scream as you fall over the edge, pleasure shattering through you like a storm.

Only then does he pull back, lips and chin glistening. He breathes hard, eyes dark and blown, grinning like he just won a war.

“That’s the sound I wanted to hear.”

He stands up again to pick you up, carrying you to the nearby table, settling you on it, completely bare under the low light, legs parted slightly, chest heaving. You’re flushed, trembling—not from fear, but anticipation. Nerves. Heat. It’s all crashing together in your head, and he sees it.

His hands move to his waistband, fingers curling beneath the fabric of his pants. He tugs them down with practiced ease, freeing himself—and your breath catches.

Your eyes drift down instinctively, and your stomach tightens at the sight of him. He’s big. Thick, flushed, already hard and aching.

Your pulse stutters, nerves flickering to the surface. “Oh…”

“Hey,” he says gently, fingers brushing your cheek. “You okay?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. “It’s just… I’ve never done this before.”

Satoru freezes for a moment. His expression doesn’t shift much—but his eyes, bright and blue, soften in an instant.

“…You haven’t?” he asks quietly, tone a stark contrast to the sinful smirk he wore earlier. You shake your head.

He exhales slowly, like he’s grounding himself. Then he leans in and kisses you—slow, patient, loving.

“Well, fuck,” he murmurs against your lips. “Now I really have to behave.”

You blink up at him. “You? Behave?”

He chuckles, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. “Okay, maybe not completely. But I’ll go slow. Make it good for you. You trust me, right?”

You nod.

“Good.” His voice drops a little. “Then let me take care of you, yeah?”

He’s gentle—so gentle it almost breaks you. His lips move from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, to your chest. He pauses there, kissing over your breasts, fingers caressing your sides as though you might disappear if he’s not careful.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes. “Gonna remember this forever.”

When he finally lines himself up, he doesn’t rush. He keeps kissing you, whispering into your skin.

“Breathe with me,” he says. “Nice and easy, baby. Just relax.”

The stretch burns, but his voice never leaves you. His hands never stop moving—stroking your sides, brushing your hair from your face, thumbing away the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmurs. “So tight, fuck—squeezing me like you were made for me.”

Your breath catches, eyes fluttering shut.

“Look at me,” he says softly, “I wanna see your face.”

You meet his eyes—blown wide with emotion, affection, reverence. And that’s when he starts to move. Slowly, so slowly you can feel everything. Every drag, every pull.

“Feels good?” he asks, and when you nod, he smiles like you’ve just handed him the universe.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, picking up pace just a little. “Takin’ me so well, sweetheart. My pretty girl, lettin’ me be her first.”

You moan—part embarrassment, part bliss—and he kisses the sound from your mouth.

“Can’t believe no one’s touched you like this before,” he mutters against your skin. “But I’m glad. Glad it’s me. Glad I get to show you.”

He starts rolling his hips deeper, each thrust slow and purposeful, coaxing pleasure out of you bit by bit.

“Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

You’re already gasping—your body burning, overstimulated from the build-up and the way he moves inside you. Every drag of him is a stretch, a delicious ache, and you’re trying so hard to keep up, to breathe, to hold yourself together—but it’s too much.

And then it hits.

Your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave—louder, sharper, more intense than the last—and your body tightens instinctively, your walls fluttering around him like they don’t want to let him go.

“Fuck—” Satoru’s voice breaks, a guttural groan tumbling from his throat as he stills, trembling above you. “You’re gonna ruin me, baby…”

His grip tightens on your waist, jaw clenched as he tries to hold back—but you’re squeezing him so tight, so perfect, and his restraint shatters.

“You’re killin’ me,” he grits out, starting to move again—deeper, slower, more intentional—but there’s an edge of desperation now. His forehead presses to yours, breath ragged. “Feels so good—fuck, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You shake your head, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, barely able to form the words. “Please…”

He kisses you hard—like he can’t help himself, like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. “You’re doin’ so good for me, sweetheart. So, so good…”

“‘Toru-” you whimper.

That breaks him.

He groans, slamming into you harder, mouth finding your neck as he nips and kisses down to your collarbone. “Fuck. Say it again.”

You whimper again, brain hazy. “‘Toru…”

He kisses you slow then, deeper. Rough pace never faltering, but his hands gentler now—one wrapping around your waist, the other brushing the hair from your face.

“Mine,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re mine now, yeah?”

You nod desperately, legs locking around his hips. “Yours.”

“Damn right,” he grits, driving into you harder, chasing both your highs with everything he has.

The overstimulation has tears stinging your eyes, your legs trembling, voice catching on every moan. And when that next orgasm builds too fast, too hard—it snaps through you like a live wire. Your body arches off the table, clamping down around him again—

—and Satoru snaps.

“Shit—take it, baby. Let me fill you up, yeah? Gonna make you mine, fuck, you already are—look at you...” he chokes out, thrusting deep one last time before he comes, spilling into you with a long, breathless groan. His arms wrap around you as if to anchor himself, holding you so close, like he needs to feel every inch of you, inside and out.

“Look at you,” he murmurs between pants, pressing kisses across your face. “Takin’ me so well… You’re mine now, yeah? All mine.”

You nod, dazed and boneless, wrapped in his warmth.

And he stays like that, inside you, forehead resting against yours as he murmurs soft, reverent praises—like this wasn’t just your first time.

Like it was everything.

Your body’s still trembling—nerves fried, skin flushed, heart thudding against your chest as if it’s trying to burst free. You’re barely aware of anything except the warm, strong arms pulling you into a careful embrace, the kiss he presses to your temple like it’s the most sacred thing he could ever do.

“Hey…” Satoru murmurs, voice all honey and rasp, rough around the edges but impossibly gentle. “You okay?”

You nod, chest rising and falling against his, cheeks still hot, but there’s a smile on your lips.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Just… wow.”

He laughs softly, the sound low and breathy as his fingers brush along your spine in lazy, soothing strokes. “You were incredible,” he says, and he means it. Every word. “So good for me. So perfect.”

Your face scrunches with a flustered noise, burying it into his shoulder. “Stop…”

“Never,” he grins, nosing into your hair. “You don’t get to be all pretty and sweet and make those sounds and expect me to stay quiet about it.”

You groan. “Satoru—”

“Shhh.” 

His palm rests on your back as he holds you close, thumb drawing lazy circles. You can still feel the dull, pleasant ache of him inside you, the heat he left behind. His breath is warm against your cheek. Safe. Comforting.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmurs again, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw. “First time and you still managed to rock my fucking world.”

Your heart stutters. “Wasn’t just the sex,” you say quietly.

He stills for half a second—and then he smiles, soft and genuine.

“I know,” he whispers.

You’re still breathless, body flushed and boneless in his arms when Satoru gathers you close, lips pressed gently to your temple. The air between you is warm, quiet save for the distant hum of life around the base. He shifts a little, glancing down at the table beneath you both, and you catch that flicker in his eyes—guilt, soft and creeping.

“I should’ve…” he starts, voice low, almost sheepish. “Shit, I should’ve taken you somewhere better. A bed, a blanket, something that wasn’t a hardass table. It was your first time and I just—” He pauses, brows pinching like the regret’s eating at him now. “I got selfish.”

You lift your hand to his cheek, thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth. “Hey,” you whisper, leaning in until your lips ghost over his, shutting him up with a kiss so soft, so full of emotion it makes his heart stutter.

When you pull back, your smile is small but sure. “It was more than okay. Because it was with you.”

Satoru blinks, breath caught in his throat. And for once, the man with a mouth like a wildfire doesn’t have anything to say.

Until he pulls you tighter into his chest and mutters, “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You just grin into his skin. “Guess we’ll go down together then.”

Then silence. Not awkward, not tense—just full of warmth. Full of everything. His arms around you. Your fingers laced with his.

You don’t say it. Not yet. But maybe one day soon.

For now, the way he holds you like you’re something to be cherished?

It’s more than enough.

author's note. finally have time to post consistently! last month or two were BUSY so couldn't do much </3 i'm proud of how this one turned out ^^ also, shoko is such a baddie i love her

please do not steal, modify, or translate my work.

[dddyprv]

thinking about my husband encouraging our son while he pounds me into the bed. helping him breed me cuz he wants a little brother. telling him exactly how to fuck a baby into his mom. cumming on my son’s cock and having his dad’s hand on my throat. my son cumming inside me and then replacing his dick with his fist and pushing all his cum into my cervix to make sure it takes. knowing when his little brother grows up he’s gonna teach him how to make his mom cum like his dad did. i need to be sedated

[dddyprv]

K9

[dddyprv]

daddy can’t wait, as soon as I get out of school he can’t wait to stick his big c0ck in me >_<

[dddyprv]

@xandersgoodgirl

[dddyprv]

forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal forced analforced anal forced anal forced anal forced analforced anal forced anal forced anal forced anal <3

[dddyprv]

can you touch me like you did last time daddy? i promise not to cry and fight this time

[dddyprv]

rape-bait daughter 🤝 pervert dad who sneaks in her room every night and fucks her.

[dddyprv]

i think hearing “this is how fathers love their daughters” as he’s sliding in for the first time would heal me

[dddyprv]

disrespectful doggy >>