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*points at bruce and danny in 'late at night when the nightingale sings'* THESE TWO MFERS MEAN SO MUCH TO MEEEE
no thoughts head empty just these two socially inept fools finding family in one another. like yes you go you funky little death omens stole that one from a comment on the fic, so if you see this you know who you are, discover that family isn't only tied in blood.
bUT onto less mushy stuff: these two being shenaniganizers; tomfools. Bruce realized that Danny didn't actually know he was Bruce Wayne and instead of going "oh actually im bruce wayne" he went; "hrm... how long can i keep this going until he realizes...."
like. i think they deserve to be the sillies. just utter goobers the both of them. like, danny makes the wittiest side comments, dry quips, under his breath towards Bruce while they're out in public (Danny covering his face with a face mask) and Bruce is trying not to laugh. Meanwhile if Bruce makes one sly comment about someone to Danny, Danny's gonna collapse with laughter.
Bruce plays straightman in most of their bits, he has the best fucking poker face. But also I firmly believe he does actually enjoy Danny's puns. Look me in the eyes- look me in the eyes. Try and tell me that a man that willingly agrees to call a car "the batmobile" even after his eight year old ward grows up (thus negating the need to go along with his antics) doesn't enjoy a good, well-placed pun. Look me in the eyes and try to tell me that. That's right you can't.
He's gonna spit out a well-placed pun in the driest, most boring Batman Voice Ever one day while he's getting ready for patrol, and Danny's gonna fucking die of laughter. He's gonna lose his mind. Bruce is going to have a half-dead sickly teenager laughing his lungs out in the chair. That's a new core memory right there, every time Danny thinks about that he's gonna start giggling.
just!!! these two making each other laugh! That's so important to me. So so much. I nEED Danny to get Bruce to smile and laugh and I need Bruce to make Danny do the same. Danny's all snark and sass and Bruce is all deadpan and dry quips. Do you all see my vision.
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc prompt#blood blossom au#firm believer of bruce having a sense of humor. batman being a troll is my favorite thing ever. mister 'i assaulted three [officers]'#they're banned from the kitchen but only when its the two of them unsupervised because they'll make a mess. Danny's not used to working wit#machinery that doesnt spontaneously come to life sometimes and Bruce is Bruce. They tried making a smoothie once and it ended in disaster#there was smushed frozen berries and milk all over the counter and cabinets. it got all over them. the floOR was a slipnslide. danny smelt#like rasp+blackberries all day and so did bruce. the last time they tried to make pancakes together it ended in an impromptu flour fight#flour EVERYWHERe. they both looked like ghosts. Danny started it. he took a glob of the batter and smushed it on Bruce's face.#bruce merely retaliated. that was the incident that got them officially banned from the kitchen without alfred's direct supervision#they can be there individually but not together. that's just spelling trouble#have the vivid mental image of Danny (masquerading as Jackson) looking around Bruce at some other rich socialite with just combination#baffled and deadpan look on his face. before looking up at Bruce and flatly going 'i think we're gonna have to kill this guy Buzz'#and Bruce just takes a sip from his champagne flute. He looks equally unimpressed. And quietly so that only Danny hears him. goes *'fuck'*#except he does it in the Batman Voice. and Danny has to hide his face in the back of Bruce's suit jacket to hide his laughter.#ALL OF THE INSIDE JOKES GUYS. ITS ABOUT THE DOMESTICITY. THE LAUGHTER THE JOY THE GOOD FEELS#*GRIPS YOU BY THE SHOULDERS WITH HEAVY BREATHING* DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE VISION. ITS THE RELEARNING TO LOVE AND BE LOVED
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Silver from Treasure Planet is such a good character.
#i've watched treasure planet quite a few times over my life#and i just watched it again and cried during 4 different scenes#which has never happened. i've never just outright cried while watching it#but the part of silver that cares so much about jim made me so emotional this time#finding the treasure has been his lifelong obsession--and he even said he wouldn't let jim get in the way of the treasure#but then a second later he ditches the treasure to save jim#and even when they're trying to get the portal open and that one pirate shoves jim and makes him fall to the ground#it's absolutely brilliant bc for a moment we see a look of concern/shock on silver's face#and then once the other pirates start getting rowdy and threatening to get rid of jim--silver's face switches to aggression#bc he has to pretend that he doesn't like jim even though he actually loves the kid#so he's worried about the kid on the inside even though on the outside he needs to keep up his image#so the other pirates don't turn on him#details like that remind us that silver is compassionate and is loving--but he has to hide it to keep order and to keep himself safe#crying crying crying ughhh it's so good
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But Lupin is a phantasm.

aka,, I love symbolism. Very much. You'll see me research things like Victorian flower language or the history of zeppelins for YCmS for little scenes only for most of my research to never make it into the main body of the fic bc of workflow. And Arsene's such a beautiful dichotomy of a character; he appears energetic and gung-ho and boisterous most of the time, but when you peel away the public perception of him, there's an inherently melancholy character left behind. And interestingly enough, it is the inverse with Ren/Joker -- he's melancholy to the public, but a spitfire and full of life and energy when in private (the metaverse). I love it. It's probably my absolute favorite character trait to have...
Heavily inspired by this one Goodreads comment: But Lupin,[...] is a phantasm. The only times he really exists is when he takes on a different identity in order to mingle with true people in the real world. The rest of the time, when he acts as what he really is--the criminal mastermind--he is only an idea, a name. He knows of this paradoxical incorporeality of his, too: and he both revels in it and is saddened by it. This combination of euphoria and melancholy proves irresistible for the reader, or at least it did in my case.
And an actual quote somewhere in the first(?) novel: “His portrait? How could I describe him? Twenty times I have seen Arsene Lupin, and twenty times a different person has appeared to me …or rather, the same person from which twenty mirrors would have returned as many distorted images, each one having its own particular look, its own unique shape, its own gesture, its own silhouette and character.”
#myart#persona 5#arsene#persona#p5#ofc i also read into things a little bit too much#like the promo image for the tactica dlc with arsene and the rat#but thats half the fun in fandom anyways#the symbolism is the true friends we made along the way#also also he's holding his actual face like a venetian mask bc#the inherent anonymity and grandeur often reflects a much different person underneath#and all that gliz and glamor cannot hide the cracks inside#:3
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#moversposting#q#help meeee their faces#smitty has a fondness for adorable playful troublemakers that he can't help but love them even with the mischief they cause#<- random asf conclusion conjured from this random image lol#i wonder if scott's wobble goggles can visualize (?) feelings. like maybe that isn't possible but if he could see music notes in rich's#head because there was alot then what if scott could also detect an overwhelming amount of feelings inside#idk how his wobble goggles work.#altho for that to happen both scott and smitty would both be in the know about it#since looking into someone's feelings sounds like a massive breach of privacy and even in rich's case scott asked to look inside rich's#head first before doing so. and his wobbly goggly seem to only work with whatever scott was focusing on at the time of using it#so idk what scenario would it be#but like smitty is faking (?) being annoyed or stern like this but inside he's full of hearts or whatever to represent love and adoration#and scott is like. playfully teasing (? like idk “oh you know you love meee”) and smitty's struggling to keep a serious face because#of that. like a smile keeps trying to creep up his face more and he can't hide it#i can't actually think of a good scenario for that nor if i know it's in character or not but the idea of it is kinda cute lol#well i guess it's pretty do-able without the woobly googles aspect#help i keep rambling about stuff for this show that don't seem to be there in the first place haha
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im too slow to finish this for this solstice so have a snippet of wip ft. terence and bahamut talking
"Each time I return," the dragon wondered, pressing against Terence's pilgrim kiss, "I am astonished to find another that burns so. I should know better. There is always light."
There—the crack at last. Quicker and cleaner than he had expected. Kinder, also. Gently, Terence felt for the fracture inside himself. He pried it apart, breaking it in truth, and folded those ancient eyes within his heart, placing them beside Dion's strained, precious smiles.
No one will look here, he promised. No one has ever thought to.
“It will be a cruel work.” The proud creature did not flinch from the truth, though there was pain in it. He and Dion were well suited to each other, after all. “Do not say you did not know.”
“I've always known.” He ran a hand over the dragon's skin.
“I wonder if you will believe that, at the end."
#working title is 'lemme talk to the bitch' lmao#I was on a long drive listening to the ost (to sail forbidden seas)#and the image of terence running the length of a cliff and leaping to get the drop on bahamut flying just below him popped into my head#STAY IN HIS BLIND SPOT TERENCE#but yeah the thought of dion actually trying to hide terence from bahamut is compelling to me#this very mythological notion of 'you don't want the gods to notice you'#Dion was so 'lucky' and look at his life#meanwhile bahamut is like pls i just wanna bless him a little bit. he's so good and mortals are so frail#and Terence is TURN ON YOUR LOCATION I JUST WANNA TALK#there are two wolves inside of you one wants to use the phrase pilgrim kiss and the other is crying bc Bahamut Doesn't Have Hands#whatever he's touching a saint#he does believe it at the end. he doesn't go back on it. I'd Tell Them Put Me Back In It. sir terence is The blorbo of 2023.#writing tag
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So fucked up that I spend all my time creating things and making art and then if I finish it I'm like "huh, neat" and hide it away
#idk where to even post it#like i dont WANT to hide it but a lot of it isn't good enough to post and when i do finish something#im too self conscious to post it anywhere bc i know no one gives a fuck abt the source content#i keep starting new accounts to post all my art and then i either get no interaction and get sad or i get too much interaction and feel#like i have an image to uphold#thats why i hardly post here anymore bc i don't wanna like idk piss people off? or be embarrassing#i hold all of my passions and obsessions inside bc I'm embarrassed but i think I'm gonna blow up one day#i need to not give a fuck but if someone says a mean thing to me ill die#ive written an entire books worth of fanfic and it just sits in my folders for me to read and pick apart
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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.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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if I had known years ago that they would rerelease the paperback haruhi suzumiya light novels with the original covers, I would have never gotten rid of my old books orz
#I might be in the minority but I love those old paperback covers#precisely because they are so basic and hide the anime-ness of the book#they’re simple and clean and colorful#and the original image is just inside as an insert anyway#don't mind me having a moment#I shouldn’t have gotten rid of them in the first place but alas#the casualty of one annual book spring cleaning#(lately it’s been hard to donate books because I worry I’ll be nostalgic for them later T_T)#(like now…)#(honestly I’m not even really nostalgic for all of them just disappearance lol)
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I never talked about this but I do have my little self indulgent headcanons for Akechi. I acknowledge that not being canon but I want to share it anyway - Akechi is bigender in my head. Or at least somewhat fluid with his gender. Hear me out why I like to think that...
So basically look at him for a moment. Look and tell me that he doesn't look at least a little feminine.


I'm not saying that he looks like a woman, no. That's foolish to assume. You can still clearly say that he's a guy. I just mean that he looks as if he has a feminine touch to his appearance. This is probably due to him being desgined to look like one of those 'pretty anime guys' but it still sticks out to me.
I headcanon it that Goro chooses to look like this - Still a guy, clearly, because he cannot be open about this. Yet he makes himself look like that on purpose, to be in touch with his more feminine feeling side. Therefore he watches his entire appearance - Hair, figure, skin, etc. Not just that but to keep his pitch I imagine that he practices his voice to never become too deep.
Essentially he strives for the balance, just enough to not arise suspicion that he may not be identifying just as a guy. Yet he also wants to still feel comfortable in his skin. He doesn't need anyone else to know, hence why he doesn't mind not being open about this. For him it's most important to feel comfortable with at least one aspect of his life and express himself.
Also when mentioning his 2nd Persona, Loki. This post has the screenshot I am referencing. Long story short, it points out that Loki in Norse mythology can also appear as a woman.
I like to think for this headcanon that a part of this reflects Goro's own identity. While I say bigender I could also see some fluidity, his mood shifting. Feeling more masculine or feminine depends. It doesn't influence interests and personality in any way, it is just a personal feeling deep down. Also I want to emphasize that you don't need to be 'traditionally masculine or feminine' to feel a certain way about your gender. It depends on what you feel most comfortable with!
Also I feel attracted to him. That's enough proof for at least having feminine traits. /j
Bonus: I like to think that he would be fine with he/him and she/her respectively. I would use both interchangeably but I don't know if it would become confusing. Besides, I fully acknowledge that this is a headcanon and by no means canon in any way! Just some self indulgence on my part. Canoncially Goro is male. The bigender thing is mainly coming from my own self indulgence.
Also it is kinda funny to think about being every flavor (since I identify as genderfluid). In the end it wouldn't matter to us though. We love each other and that's that. No need to shove our relationship under a label. Though it would be funny confusing people with this.
Ok ramble done. Sorry for taking up your time like that. Back to the usual program.
#Nimue's Rambles#The Akechi Files#Headcanon edition! This is not canon in any way! I want to just stress that AGAIN! This is my headcanon thought only! So don't mix it up!#Shivering as I share this ngl... Time to go into hiding!#If interested I could dive more into it and refer to Goro by 'she/her' too. I'm usually hesitant as it is hc stuff.#(It won't affect canon complaint fics. I'd like to stick as close as possible in canon for those. But self indulgent fics are fair game)#Also it is a bit of an own comfort. Having a partner who feels similar about their gender feels liberating.#“Male? Female? Other? How about more than one and it depends on the current mood instead!? Screw being put inside a box!”#<- How I feel constantly so I like the thought that Goro might feel the same. (S)He just isn't vocal about it due to public image.#Also (s)he is content with no one knowing. As long as (s)he feels comfortable that's all what matters.#I'm fully supportive though! Yes you can be my boygirlfriendthing and I will love you for it! Ok I'm done rambling now.#f/o community#fictional other community#romantic f/o#f/o headcanons
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𝜗𝜚˚⋆ GIVING ROOMMATE TOJI A HONEY PACKET TO MAKE HIM HARD
You’re digging through the kitchen drawer for a pen but instead, you find a single, slightly crumpled honey packet— one of those ones from a diner Toji probably pocketed without even thinking.
That’s when the memory hits you: someone once told you honey boosts testosterone. Supposedly gets the blood flowing or something like that. You don’t know if it’s true but suddenly, you’re struck with the image of Toji randomly getting hard for no reason— looking all confused and irritated and the idea of teasing and laughing at him for being a confused old man is too good to pass up.
You find him at the kitchen table, slouched in one of the chairs with a pile of mail in front of him. He’s fresh off work, still in his dusty jeans and oil-stained shirt, arms looking way too good folded up like that. His hair’s a little messy with his bangs cascading down his forehead and slightly tickling his eyes. He smells like outside yet he still looks like sin.
You casually slide the honey packet across the table like it’s a top-secret document. He glances up. “What’s this?”
“Just try it,” you say softly, feigning innocence as you open the fridge for a drink. “Natural energy booster. Thought it might help after work, y’know?”.
Toji raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t question you. Just casually tears the packet open with his teeth and licks the honey off the edge like it’s nothing. You watch from the fridge, biting the inside of your cheek to hold in your laugh. It’s criminal how fucking good he looks doing something so simple. You grab your drink and vanish to your room before he can notice the grin creeping onto your face.
It takes a while but maybe thirty, forty minutes later, you hear him shifting around on the couch. You peek down the hallway— and fucking shit.
He’s still lounging there, TV on but he’s clearly not paying any attention. One hand is resting on his thigh, the other tucked under his head and his hips keep shifting. You freeze when you notice the obvious shape straining against the front of his sweats. It’s not subtle either— it’s blatant. The fabric’s tented, and he keeps adjusting himself with this irritated little scowl like he’s trying to figure out why he’s getting an erection without warning or doing anything.
You casually walk into the living room, trying not to beam. “You good?” you ask, doing your best to sound normal.
Toji grunts. “M’fine. Just—” He sits up a bit straighter because you were there, then glances down at himself. He frowns. “Dunno what the hell’s up. Got this fucking—”
He stops short, noticing your eyes lingering where they shouldn’t be. He tugs the hem of his shirt down over his crotch but it doesn’t do much. “You seeing this shit?” he mutters, looking genuinely confused. “Haven’t even been thinking about anything”.
You shrug, taking a sip of your drink. “Weird. Could be the honey,” you offer innocently. “You know, some people say it boosts testosterone”.
He stares at you. “You serious?”
You nod, lips twitching into a grin.
“…You gave me a fucking boner on purpose?” he says slowly, piecing everything together. You can’t help it. You burst out laughing like a immature child.
He rubs a hand over his face, groaning in annoyance. “Fucking brat,” he mutters, and when he stands up— yeahhh, there’s definitely no hiding it now. The fat bulge in his sweats is very prominent and you shamelessly glance down again.
He catches you.
“Oh, you like that?” he says teasingly, a slow smirk creeping across his face now. “All that just for you, huh?”
Your laughter dies in your throat. You did not think this far ahead. Toji takes a slow step toward you, still adjusting his sweatpants. “You think you’re real funny, sweetheart. Gonna be even funnier when I make you deal with it”.
You blink up at him, your heart racing.
“Still feeling like a joke to you?
You open your mouth to answer, but your brain has completely short-circuited. The taunting grin on his face grows wider when he sees the panic start to creep into your expression.
Toji watches you squirm for a second longer, then chuckles low in his throat, eyes glinting with amusement. “Look at you,” he murmurs, taking one more step toward you, close enough that you can feel the heat rolling off him and maybeeee even the tiniest hint of his hardened bulge pressed against your tummy, but you don't dare look down. “All flustered over a little blood flow”.
You glare at him, trying to muster a comeback, but he just leans down a bit, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Y’know, if you wanted to see my dick that bad, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask”.
Your jaw drops. “What?! I did not!”
He starts laughing— really laughing this time, the kind that makes his shoulders shake as he straightens back up and ruffles your hair like you’re a dumb little sibling who walked straight into a trap.
“Oh my fuck, your face,” he says between laughs. “Worth every second”.
“You’re the worst,” you hiss, shoving his arm annoyingly but he doesn’t budge.
“And you’re a little brat,” he throws back, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Giving a grown man unsolicited honey just to watch him pop a boner? That’s sick behavior, kid”.
“You didn’t have to eat it!”
“You slid it across the table like a damn drug deal!”
You try to storm off, but he catches your wrist gently just as you turn. You pause, blinking up at him again, and he just gives you a crooked smile and murmurs, “Next time you wanna see it, just knock”.
Your whole soul leaves your body.
He lets you go, snickering to himself as he flops back down on the couch like he didn’t just commit a crime against your sanity.
#Roommate Toji— My beloved#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#toji fushiguru#toji jjk#toji imagine#toji smut#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji fluff#toji x female reader#jjk series#jjk imagines#jjk x female reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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thinking about getting pounded by colleague!gojo in his office after hours, thinking no one else is around. He has you bent over his desk, your panties pushed to the side while his thick cock stretches you open, leaving you a drooling mess. But then suddenly, colleague!nanami walks in, completely dumbfounded by the sight in front of him. He stands there in shock, the papers he was holding in his hand now scattered on the floor while he watches you, his colleague, being fucked dumb by the gojo satoru. “Nnnngh, t-toru! N-nanamiii!” You’re trying your hardest not to moan, completely embarrassed that he’s seen you in this light. “I know he’s standing right there, sweets.” He bends down close to your ear, his breath fanning across your sweaty skin. “He likes it,” he whispers, an evident smirk in his voice.
You can’t help but stare at the blonde in front of you, an obvious bulge in his slacks, his cheeks dusted a light pink. “Isn’t that right, Nanami? You like watching our pretty little coworker getting fucked, don’t you? You do have a crush on her after all,” he chuckles. He grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look nanami in the eye while you take his cock, feeling his throbbing tip rub against your cervix. Nanami slowly steps forward, his eyes fixated on you. He reaches his hand out, gently caressing your cheek, swiping the pad of his thumb over your swollen lips. You look back at him with teary eyes, noticing the stern look on his face. You can’t tell what’s running through his head, but god he looks so good in his new suit and his disheveled hair, not to mention his raging bulge that was right in front of your face.
“N-nanami—ah! Fuck!” Your eyes squeeze shut at the sheer force of the gojo’s thrusts. Nanami unbuckles his belt, making quick movements to get his aching cock out. His chest heaves up and down, moving rapidly as he reaches into his slacks, his cock springing upward. He should be angry, furious to see you like this with gojo, it should be him that has you bent over his desk, but in a twisted way he doesn’t mind it. He likes seeing you in a such a vulnerable state, nearly on the verge of tears and desperate enough that you don’t care if you’re caught. He slowly strokes his cock just inches away from your face, settling his thumb in your mouth, encouraging you to suck it.
“This pussy is so fucking tight, mmm. You like having him watch? I bet you do.” Gojo lets out a breathy moan, sinking deep in your sopping cunt, making you moan around nanami’s finger.
Low grunts and whimpers erupt from nanami’s chest no matter how hard he tries to hide it. He follows the same pace gojo is fucking you at, imaging how warm and wet your cunt is as he stares down at you, noting the way your tongue swirls around his finger. “Don’t take your eyes off me, baby,” he says with a shaky breath, his grip tightening around his cock, moving his wrist in circular motions. He tosses his head back, his adams apple bobbing up and down, heavy breathing and shallow moans bouncing off the walls of the small office.
“S-shit, sweets! Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Gojo grunts, his grip on your hips tightening, sure to leave indents in your skin. “God, you feel so fucking good! Gonna let me cum inside you? Say yes. Say—” You nod your head without hesitation, eyes focused on the way nanamis movements grow faster, biting on his bottom lip. His smears his precum over his swollen tip, dragging his hand all the way down and back up his shaft.
Gojo slams into you one last time, jolting your body forward as he paints your walls with his sticky cum, feeling his cock throb inside you with every drop he releases into you. “Nnnngh, fuck!” He slowly fucks his cum into you, squeezing the flesh of your ass and spreading it as he watches how your pussy grips around him.
Nanami’s breaths grow louder, his cheeks now flushed red just like the tip of his cock. “O-open for me, baby. Yeah, yeah just like that. So fucking perfect.” His eyes roll back when you stick your tongue out for him, just mere seconds later he cums all over, letting out the loudest moans. He milks his cock, not letting a drop go to waste.
Both of them try and catch their breath, your legs feel like jelly and your pussy completely sore. “Gonna let Nanami have a go at you next time?” Gojo teases, helping you stand to your feet. You shyly glance over at him, as if you haven’t just swallowed his cum and looked in the eye for the last few minutes. “What if he asks nicely, hm?” Gojo presses wet kisses to your neck, his hands roaming over your body and down to your ass.
“Unless she doesn’t want me to ask nicely. Maybe she just wants to be forced down and fucked.” You feel nanami’s breath on the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine, completely sandwiched between these two men. His hand comes up from behind, wrapping around your throat to pull you back for a kiss, his tongue swiping over your lips and into your mouth. You kiss him back, sloppily.
“Might have to take her somewhere else to fully have our fun then.” Gojo reaches under your skirt, licking a stripe across your ear and down your neck.
#—☆classyrbf#jjk#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk smut#gojo x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#nanami smut#gojo x reader smut#nanami x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader#nanami kento x reader#gojo satoru x reader smut#nanami kento x reader smut#jjk x reader smut#nanami drabble#gojo drabble#jjk drabble#jjk gojo#jjk nanami
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Israel blows up Gaza's "Palace of Justice" compound which housed the Palestinian Supreme Court, the Court of Appeal, the Court of First Instance & the Magistrate. 100,000s of vital case documents are gone. Deliberately targeting civilian infrastructure is a War Crime!



Israel's soldiers took victory images inside the Palestinian Supreme Court before blowing it up into pieces. This proves the facility constituted ZERO danger to the Israeli military & no militants were hiding inside it at the time it was destroyed. Again, a war crime!
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#ya know what ive been looking for apartments since i got my voucher!!!#but lemme tell you...#i just seen a listing where ALL of the images of the inside of a house were AI generated#like...and it was a legit listing from a real estate company not a scam like i originally thought#like??????#why would you do that???? just take pictures yourself?????#unless the place looks nothing like that and you tryna hide all the holes and rat shit or smth#wtf#like seriously wtf#i almost wanna write to them and ask why tf theyre using ai images in place of real ones#see what happens#maybe watch them squirm a little
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JEALOU$Y. ☆ CALEB.
𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦. at the end of the day, you and caleb are just childhood friends—nothing more, nothing less. so, when you mention going on a date, it’s totally logical that he wouldn’t care, right? if only that were the truth.
𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. fem!reader, current!caleb, zayne mention, jealousy, pet names, praise, oral ( fem. receiving ), cowgirl, unprotected p in v, creampie. 𝑤𝑐. 5.4k.
𝑛𝘰𝑤 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. jealou$y — the neighbourhood.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request
Doomsday has finally dawned upon Linkon City, though Caleb seems to be the only person truly affected by this catastrophe.
It was all his fault in the grand scheme of things. He hadn’t been clear enough, hadn’t shown the full extent of his feelings for you. But above all, he should have never offered Zayne those measly words of advice.
He should have known that the doctor had ulterior motives. Why else would he have called Caleb up one week ago to ask about you of all people?
It was a mean ploy, truly. Anyone and everyone knows about Caleb’s inability to shut up about you, his sole weakness was being exploited right in front of his eyes and he was none the wiser. The questions seemed harmless then. Posed as genuine curiosity, Caleb would have never been able to decipher the hidden intent behind each word that Zayne spoke into the receiver.
What are her days off? What does she do in her free time? You said that the restaurant around the corner from Akso Hospital was her favorite, yes?
In retrospect, he should have absolutely seen this coming. But then again, nothing could have ever prepared Caleb to hear those four life-altering words slipping from your lips.
“I have a date.”
A record scratches in his brain, forcing him to halt his steps for an abnormally long time before he slowly turns to face you. “You… what?”
Hearing the words repeated in that saccharine tone of yours only added salt to the wound, oddly enough. It physically pained him to ask for more information about your date, though he managed to hide his disdain with that boyish grin of his and a bit of lighthearted teasing.
But inside? That little green monster was stirring, and there was very little he could do to quell it.
Begrudgingly, he managed to get the key details before forcing himself to stow away in his bedroom and… think. Next Thursday. 6 PM. Maltosio Restaurant. With Zayne.
The next week passed by in an agonizingly slow fashion. It was as though each X that marked a passing day was a physical blow to his already aching heart, and those adorable images of the kittens on his calendar (the calendar that you picked out) did very little to help him.
Subtlety was never his strong suit, but then again, desperate times call for desperate measures. And believe Caleb when he says that he is very much desperate.
“Soo…” he’d drawl, leaning over the back of the couch to peer down at you. “I heard there’s a screening of that movie you’ve been wanting to see at the drive-in next Thursday. Wanna come with?”
You perked up like a ball of excitement, and for a moment, Caleb allowed himself to get his hopes up, but your frown quickly dissipated them. “Next Thursday? Oh, no, I can’t make it! I’m going out with Zayne, remember?”
Of course he remembered. That was exactly why he hadn’t let up—not even once—in his attempts to distract you just enough to make you forget all about your dinner plans. He could take you out for a nice dinner too. Say, that’s actually a good idea…
The next day, Caleb tried that one.
“Oh, pip-squeak,” he sang, his airy voice ringing through your apartment as he walked down the hallway. “I got us reservations at the restaurant in Skyhaven that you’ve been itchin’ to check out.”
You perked up, just like you did before. “Really?”
He nodded with a triumphant grin, internally patting himself on the back for his own good idea. “Mm-hmm. Next Thursday. Got us those window seats you wanted too—the ones that overlook the city.”
And once again, your gaze softened, and an all-too-adorable pout tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Oh, Caleb, I’m sorry. I’m busy that day.”
You really are too sweet for your own good. He can’t even blame Zayne for taking an interest in you, he’d be downright shocked if any man with two seeing eyes had the audacity to not think that you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Caleb sure does. He always has. He always will.
It wasn’t long before the day of reckoning was upon him. Thursday evening. Sunlight cut through the blinds in the living room, casting golden hues across the vast space. Much to his dismay, the trashy reality television you’d left on the screen did very little to soothe his worries.
He fidgeted with the dog chains you’d gifted him, his thumb brushing along the gift that you had so kindly given him. It was a testament to your bond. A bond that something as trivial as a single evening apart couldn’t tamper with… right?
“Caleb!” Your antsy voice cut through the air, forcing his wandering mind to snap back to reality.
He was up and down the hallway before you could even say another word, pressing a flat hand to your door to nudge it open. It was then that he saw you, all dolled up in your robe with your favorite dresses laid out on your bed.
Your hands grasp onto two of the hangers, holding them up side-by-side to help him get a better look at them. Though, his eyes were noticeably distracted, contorted in an unfamiliar lovesick expression as they pierced into yours. “Quick! Which do you think is cuter?”
Caleb blinks—once, twice, three times—until he forces himself to finally look down at the dress options in your grasp. He’d seen you wear them plenty of times before, and the thought of someone else seeing you in such beautiful fabric nearly made his stomach lurch.
He raises his forearm, leaning against the doorframe as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, c’mon, that’s an impossible choice. You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.”
It was a typical response, one that you were expecting, though his lack of advice made you hmph as you lost yourself in your thoughts. “Well… I hear polka dots symbolize happiness and stripes symbolize slipping between realms. Pretty interesting stuff, huh?”
“Very interesting,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up at the mere sound of your voice. “Is that why you buy so many things in those patterns?”
You quirk an eyebrow, confusion etching into your expression. “Huh? What else do I buy that’s…” It quickly dawns on you, and you can feel heat creep up your neck and reach your face. “You’re a jerk.”
Caleb can’t help but laugh, taking a few steps into the room so that he can properly look at each and every one of the dress options laid out on your bed. “What’s the matter? If I remember correctly, someone was beggin’ me to do her laundry. Somethin’ about the laundry machine being sooo far and your feet hurting sooo bad.”
Huffing and far too flustered for your own good, you shake your head. “Well… well I didn’t realize you were so observant.”
He clicks his tongue, absentmindedly pinching your side as he leans down to rest his chin in the dip of your shoulder. “Tsk. You know I’m always observant when it comes to you. Even if it’s remembering something as trivial as the patterns of your cute little undies.”
You swat him away. “You’re so annoying!”
To that, he can only chuckle, giving your sides a brief squeeze before taking a few steps back. “Alriiight, alright, I’ll leave you alone.” Before exiting the room entirely, he hangs onto the doorframe, giving you a soft smile. “I’m serious though. You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” His lips curve into a smirk. “But if you want my input—you know I’ve always been a sucker for seeing you in florals.”
And with that, he whisks away, silently hoping and praying that this date will fall through on its own. Plopping back down on the couch, his eyes are practically glued to his watch. 5:48 PM. It wouldn’t be long before Zayne would be knocking at the front door—punctual as ever. Oh, it made him sick.
How could he have done this? To you, to himself? Caleb should be ashamed. He should be the one sitting across from you later tonight, holding your hand and listening to you ramble about whatever your heart desires. It should be him. It would have been him if he wasn’t so damn afraid.
But the sound of approaching heels clicking along the hardwood floor quickly snapped him out of his pity party, prompting him to look over his shoulder. And there you were once again, now adorned in a floral sundress that had made him lose his mind more times than he’d like to admit.
Under his breath, he can’t help but mutter, “Yeah, you’re gonna kill me…”
It was his favorite dress of yours, too. You really were trying to kill him. A white dress that was littered with blue flowers, the fabric fit you perfectly, loose and fitted in all of the right places.
Zayne didn’t deserve to see you like this. Plain and simple.
Standing from the couch, he lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “There she is,” he says, taking your hand to spin you around a single time. His smile only widens as he sees yours. “You look gorgeous, just like I knew you would.”
You roll your eyes with a bashful smile, one that he has to physically fight the urge to kiss away. “Oh, you flatter me,” you say through a laugh.
He shakes his head, bringing a hand up to gently smooth down a pesky hair on the top of your head. “Can’t be flattery if I mean every word of it.”
A breeze wafted through the open window, blowing the fabric of your dress ever so slightly. The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers infiltrates the living room, though the scent of your perfume and something that was uniquely you had his full attention.
“Y’know, you can be pretty nice when you want to be,” you say, raising an eyebrow.
Chuckling, he simply nods, his large hands settling on your middle. “Yeah. When I want to be.”
You brush past him, padding over to the back door. Pushing it open, you step out onto the warm concrete patio, breathing in the fresh air that the backyard had to offer you. Spring in Linkon was always a delight, though the warmth that Caleb radiates behind you serves to be the most comforting thing about the entire scene.
His hand comes to rest on the curve of your shoulder, his fingers nimbly pulling at one of the straps of your dress. With his heart rate shooting through the roof, he forces himself to take a moment. He needs to get this right. This may be the last chance he’ll be able to do this.
“I… look, there’s something that I—”
But suddenly, the sound of rapping knuckles at the front door cuts through the tense silence. Both of your attention is drawn to the closed door, and having left the back door open, you both have a clear view of it.
You turn around to face Caleb, offering him a sheepish smile. “That’s probably Zayne.”
He only nods, forcing his hand to fall back to his side. “Yeah, probably.”
This was it. He was losing you. It stung to know that this was no one’s fault apart from his own. His inability to be honest about his feelings, his lack of forwardness with you… what was he expecting? That you’d never date? That he could keep you happy forever without offering you anything more?
It was a stupid fantasy, one that had earned him this spot. But when he saw you turn to leave, your eyes still locked on his, a surge of panic shot up his spine. His eyes flit around—the grass, the flowerbeds, the hose… that was currently filling up the pool…
“Be mad at me later,” he suddenly says.
Your eyebrows shoot up. “Wha— ah!”
Before you could even begin to process what was happening, you were suddenly pushed back into the chamber full of chlorine infested water. Caleb watches with a wry expression as you shoot up from beneath the water, splashing aimlessly as you swim towards the edge.
“What the fuck was that?” you bark, perching one elbow up onto the concrete as you reach the other one out to him. “What the hell are you looking at? Help me out!”
Caleb can’t even protest, not with the incredibly irrational stunt he’d just pulled. “I’m sorry, pip-squeak, I just…” And so, he reaches down, his hand clasping around yours… until you pull him forward with all of your strength and send him tumbling into the pool too.
And when he comes up for air, you splash him the moment he opens his eyes. Serves him right. The chlorine will sting his eyes almost as much as your mascara is stinging yours right now.
With that, you pull yourself out of the pool, a trail of water marking your path as you wring out the fabric of your dress. After that, you disappear inside of the house, leaving Caleb to rub his eyes in utter defeat.
He gives you both a long stretch of alone time before he retreats back into the house like a kicked puppy, his head hanging low as he runs a hand through his wet strands of hair. You’ve evidently told Zayne that today wasn’t going to work anymore, judging by his lack of presence, and that thought alone makes Caleb more happy than he should be.
Sucking in a short breath, he knocks twice at your shut bedroom door. “Honey? It… it’s me.”
“Go away,” you retort without missing a single beat.
Caleb pokes his tongue into his cheek as he leans forward, resting his forehead on the cool surface of your bedroom door. “C’mon. Just… talk to me.”
It doesn’t take long before the door is swung open, revealing an incredibly angry version of you with a freshly cleaned face. He opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, to try and rectify the situation in any way he can, but you beat him to it. Quickly.
“How dare you?” you spit, jabbing your index finger into his chest. “What was that, Caleb? Are we ten years old again? Your method of communication is… is pushing me into the damn pool?”
He sighs, catching your hand to unfold your closed fingers. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I—”
“No!” you cut him off, sticking your other index finger into his chest. “It’s your turn to listen. You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, you’re all I’ve ever known, all I’ve ever wanted. Do you know how it feels to have everything you want dangled in front of you for so many years, and… and just torn away? Time and time again?”
Caleb is rendered speechless, his brows furrowed in both confusion and a sense of odd relief as you unleash all of the thoughts that you’ve kept hidden for so long. He doesn’t bother catching your other hand, instead, he allows you to repeatedly jab at his chest. It hurts, but he can handle it. Just like he can handle the words you’re saying.
“So, you know what? I decided that enough was enough!” you continue, your index finger pressing wildly into the hard planes of his chest. “I wasn’t going to wait around, I wasn’t going to pretend, I was going to move on! And… and I was going to!”
He tilts his head, his amethyst eyes growing fuzzy as he looks down at you. “Was going to?”
You huff, eyes narrowing as you jab your finger into his chest for a final time before turning away from him. “Well, I’m not exactly going on a date anymore, am I?”
Caleb nods, though you can’t see it. He leans against the doorframe, his gaze tracing your silhouette through the soaked fabric of your dress. Sighing, he straightens off the wall, but before he can turn away, you spin around to face him.
“And you know what else?” you huff. “You know the solution to this problem just as well as I do.”
He nods his head with a single jerk of his chin, beckoning you to continue. “Yeah? What’s that?”
You step closer, and for the final time, you stab your finger into his pec. “You need to grow a pair.”
Inhaling deeply, all he can do is smile. It infuriates you and he knows it, but he just can’t help himself. He takes both of your wrists and tugs you forward until your chest presses against his own, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek.
You’re slowly simmering down, the heat of your outburst dissipating as your skin cooled. With your eyebrows still furrowed, all you can do is look up at him, daring him to speak. To do anything.
“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip.
Swallowing thickly, you nod. “A little.”
He slowly nods his head, his fingers curving along your jaw before he cups your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “Is there anything I can do to help with that?”
You can feel his breath fan along your lips, cool and minty and just about everything you could have ever fantasized about on your own. You part your lips to reply, but this time, Caleb is the one who beats you to it.
“We’re making puddles all over the floor, you know.”
Glancing down, you see the truth in his words. The pool water dripped from your respective clothing and gathered around the two of you, making a wry smile find your lips.
“Oh,” you breathe, “I didn’t even notice.”
“I like to think I’m pretty observant when it comes to you,” he murmurs, smoothing his free hand along your side until it grasps onto the fabric of your dress. “Need some help with this?”
You look up, meeting his gaze once more. “With… with what?”
“Well,” he drawls, his fingertips brushing along your outer thigh as he slowly drags the fabric upward. His movements are hesitant and cautious, his eyes flickering between each of yours. “You’re wet. I’m wet. Maybe we can… help each other dry off.”
Your eyelids falter as they flit between his, your gaze instinctively falling to the plush curve of his bottom lip. “Okay,” you murmur.
A smile tugs at his mouth. “Okay. Arms up.”
Slowly, you lift your arms above your head. His hands work together to slowly push the fabric of your dress up and over your head, letting it slip onto the floor with a wet plop.
His breath is nearly torn from his lungs the moment he sees your bare skin, so beautiful and soft and made to be his. Hesitantly, his fingertips trace the curve of your hips with a sense of reverence.
“Do you need help too?” you ask, your voice breathy from the restrained sense of need that has come over you.
Pausing his exploration of your bare skin, Caleb finds himself nodding, almost immediately lifting his arms over his head. “Please.”
And now, you take the opportunity to do the same. Slowly, you peel his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aimlessly into the laundry hamper near the door. Your gaze traces over the defining lines of his abdomen, your touch doing the same as it trails southward.
His lower stomach tenses up as your fingers brush against the hem of his jeans. He can’t help the way his eyes flutter shut, the way a touch so simple can nearly bring him to his knees. Breathing shakily, he leans down to rest his forehead on yours.
“Careful,” he breathes in warning, his voice taking on a raspy tone.
You almost startle at the unfamiliarity of his voice, though you push your hesitation aside as your thumb brushes over the button of his pants. “But… these are wet too.”
A huff of air leaves his mouth, the sound something between a low laugh and a groan. He forces his eyes open, his stare meeting your own. “Trying to get me naked before our first kiss? I have to say, you’re full of surprises.”
Faltering, your hands fall away from his pants. “You’re right, I… I’m—”
Caleb can’t help but chuckle, taking a hold of your hands to bring them right back to where they were before. This time, he guides your fingers through the motion of unbuttoning his pants. “Kidding,” he whispers against your lips. “Besides… we’re good at multitasking, yeah?”
You’re nodding before you can truly process his words. “Yeah.”
His lips crash onto yours with a groan that omits from deep within, the button of his jeans finally popping open from your ministry. The zipper went next, tugged down along with the fabric entirety until he was left in only his boxers.
His hands roam your curves greedily, eating up every inch of skin that he has deprived himself of for far too long. Your waist, your hips, your thighs—he needs to feel you in any way possible.
And you return his eagerness so well, wrapping your arms around his neck as you draw him in even closer. His hands worked quickly, hoisting you up until your legs wrapped around his waist as he walked the both of you over to your bed.
Laying you down on the mattress, he takes the initiative to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip to gain access that you readily give him. He can’t help but moan into your mouth, the sweet taste of your tongue tangling with his own forcing his brain to short circuit in a way he’s never experienced before.
You kissed him like there was no tomorrow, and he was loving every second of it. Your hands fisted into his hair while your lips moved in tandem with his, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as his hands gave your hips a firm squeeze.
His lips trail down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your neck and the curve of your shoulder as he uses his grip on your hips to pull you flush against him. A gasp leaves you at the feeling of his erection pressing against your clothes sex, the friction so delicious that it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.
Caleb is so far gone, kissing his way along your arms, your neck, your sternum, all up until he reaches the valley of your breasts. He wastes very little time there, licking a trail to your nipple before sucking the peak into his mouth. His other hand palms at your other breast, kneading the soft flesh in his palm.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, his hips rocking forward as he switches sides, latching onto your neglected breast and giving it a hard suck. “So beautiful.”
His descent continues as he mouths at the soft skin of your belly, your hips, your inner thighs. His eyes depart from yours as they settle onto the fabric covering your cunt, and a grin stretches across his face. Polka dots.
You scoff, softly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t even say it.”
Chuckling, he leans in to press a kiss on the damp patch of fabric. “Wasn’t gonna say anything, baby.”
His fingers hook beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs and tossing them aimlessly. His lips press feverish kisses to your ankles, your calves, your inner thighs, and eventually, the mound of your pussy.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispers into your heat, hiking your legs up and over his shoulders and he pulls your sex closer to his mouth. “So damn worth it.”
A cry leaves you as his tongue delves in deep between your legs, his eyes slipping shut as he lets out an unabashed whimper into your sex. His grip on your thighs only tightens, keeping your legs spread apart as they threaten to press in on his head.
He wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t. He needed to have you in the way that he’s dreamt of for so long, in the way that he’s thought of time and time again as he fucked his own fist to the thought of you. It was filthy, it was lewd, but it was honest.
You tasted better than he could have ever imagined, his tongue eagerly lapping at your inner walls before his lips sealed around your puffy clit, sucking hard enough to make your back bow off the plush mattress.
The stimulation is leaving you feeling overwhelmed, your hands pushing into his hair as your trembling thighs test the strength of his grip. You whine, eyes slipping shut as your head tilts back against the pillows.
“It— it’s too much—”
“Be good,” he finds himself saying, pulling you right back to his mouth as he continues to feast on your pussy like a man starved. “You can take it, baby.” Caleb cracks open his eyes, sucking harshly onto your clit before releasing it with a wet pop. “Go on, pretty girl. Say it.”
You whine, though you hardly have the brain power to say anything else apart from what he’s asked of you. “I… I can take it,” you breathe.
He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your sensitive pearl before nipping at it. “There you go.”
It doesn’t take much longer for your legs to begin to tremble once more, your body writhing in his grasp as he sets you any way but loose. Your hips buck up, a final resort for reprieve as he works you over the edge.
Caleb redoubled his efforts, spreading your thighs even wider. Soon, the warmth pooling in your lower stomach was far too much to bear, far more intense than anything you had ever experienced before.
“I’m… I’m coming,” you gasp out, hands gripping tightly onto his dark locks of hair.
And when you do, his flattened tongue laps at your honeyed release. He works you through your high, his movements eventually slowing down as the twitching of your hips gradually calms.
He pulls off of you with a wet pop, pressing soft kisses to your swollen clit. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, pressing another peck on your mound before he moves back up your body once more to slot his lips against yours.
You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only spurs you on further. Your hands grasp onto his shoulders, and in one swift motion, you flip him onto his back. Caleb looks up at you with a starry-eyed expression, but when you straddle his hips and sit in his lap, he has no words of protest. None at all.
“You really are full of surprises,” he says, running his hands along the warm skin of your thighs.
Tugging him free from his boxers, he helps you remove them from his body, leaving you both entirely bare together. He sits up, his back pressing against the headboard as he tugs you closer to him.
“I need you,” he whispers, pressing a longing kiss on your stomach as you shift to straddle him once more. “Please, baby.”
You gaze down at him, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Please what?”
He leans into your touch, his hands settling onto your waist as he pulls you lower, the head of his cock pressing against your pussy. “Make yourself feel good. Please.”
Caleb’s own cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue, both from the embarrassment that his own lack of experience brought upon him and the reality of finally having the love of his life in such an intimate way. His amethyst eyes search your face, as if searching for a permission that he didn’t know how to ask for.
Dipping your head, you press a soft kiss on his lips. Simultaneously, you swivel your hips until the tip of his length catches your entrance. You slowly lower yourself, feeling the way his cock stretches you out, filling you up in a way that only he can.
He smiles at you, cupping your cheek with his hand. Brushing a thumb over your bottom lip, he kisses you gently. “You feel so good,” he whimpers into your mouth, his other hand resting on your hip as you roll your hips in a way that has his breath hitching in his throat. “So fucking perfect.”
Your movements are timid at first, consisting of a slow and meticulous rocking of your hips. His cock stuffed you full, his tip kissing the deepest points of your inner walls with ease, earning a muffled whimper from your mouth that his lips swallowed up eagerly.
Caleb’s hands grasped tightly onto your hips, helping you set a pace that had the both of you losing your mind. He leans backward, his head tilting against the headboard as it slams against the wall with each intense grind of your hips.
“Good girl, give it to me how you like it,” he breathes, eyes cracking open to watch the way you look down at him as you work yourself on his length. “Use me however you need me, baby, there you go.”
Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him in for a longing kiss. “I… you— you feel so…” you stammer, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder as you lose yourself on his cock.
He nods his head in agreement, turning his head to press a kiss on your damp cheek as he gently pets your hair. “I know, I know.”
You lose yourself all together, your legs shaking as you tighten your hold on him. “Caleb!” you moan.
His hips help you the rest of the way, his grip on your hips keeping you firmly planted as he meets your movements with thrusts of his own. “I know it, baby, I’ve got you,” he pants through a smile, guiding you through a few more fleshed out grinds on his lap. “Atta girl, use those hips.”
His arms wrap around you entirely, crushing you against the hard planes of his chest as you slowly ride the both of you through your shared orgasm. In that moment, in your house, in this space that belonged to you and Caleb alone—the two of you became one.
Heavy breathing and hammering heartbeats is all that consumes the two of you for a long while, skin to skin with far too much bliss brewing in your chests for either of you to handle alone.
Huffing softly, Caleb runs a hand up your side. “You okay in there?” he asks, turning his head to pepper soft kisses along your cheek. “C’mon, I need some proof of life.”
You chuckle, shaking your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “Shut up, give me a second.”
He merely smiles, wrapping his arms around your middle once more as he tucks your head beneath his chin. Thirty seconds after finishing and you’re already mean. “There’s my girl.”
Caleb’s hands smooth over the soft planes of your back, giving your hips a soft squeeze as he revels in the feeling of your heartbeat drumming against his own. He can’t help himself from pressing a few kisses on the top of your head, his arms opting to wrap even tighter around you.
“I love—” he cuts himself off, eyes widening dazedly. Would that be too much? A confession of his undying love not long after ruining your date and making love with you for the first time? After a stretch of awkward silence, he kisses your head once more. “I love… cuddling with you. You’re so soft.”
You smile, nuzzling even closer to his chest, your nose brushing against skin. “Mm, I love you too, Caleb.”
His eyes widened, though he knows that communicating his confusion is futile. You knew him so well, too well.
“You do?” he whispers, turning his head just enough to look down at you.
In response to that, you nod. “Mm-hmm. I’ll love you even more if you tell me that you didn’t cancel those dinner reservations.”
Caleb smiles, running a hand over your hair. As if he’d given up his last ditch effort to take you out. “You know I didn’t.”
𝑛𝘰𝘵𝑒. rip zayne i still love you king!!! also i actually don’t really know how to write for caleb… so… i hope this didn’t suck! this is the only fic that managed to break my intense writer’s block that i’ve had for the past two months. reblog/comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate you reading so much <3
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request
#♥︎ tojicide#my louvre#caleb x reader#caleb x you#caleb x y/n#caleb love and deepspace#love and deepspace caleb#love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#l&ds caleb#lnds caleb#lads caleb#caleb smut#love & deepsace x reader#love & deepspace#lnds smut#lads x you#lads smut#lnds x reader#lads x y/n#caleb
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Needy
Pervert!Yuuta x Reader

Synopsis: Yuuta has avoided the touch of women for years due to having a homicidal jealous curse attached to him. Hell, he has even avoided touching himself. But something happens that makes him break
Warning: Male masturbation, pillow humping, edging, mentions of breeding, pining
Pt.2
~
Having a homicidal jealous curse attached to you 24/7 that threatens to murder any woman that comes close to you, changes a man.
In Yuuta's case that meant that sex was out of the question. In fact, everything involving the slightest bit of physical intimacy was out of the question. Handshake? Yuuta would rather not risk it. Hugging? Sure if you wanted to get your head chopped off. Even when Yuuta joined Jujutsu High and became able to control Rika better, his ways of avoiding women had already been so ingrained into him, that any kind of intimacy was just foreign to him.
This didn't mean the Yuuta didn't think about it. He even indulged in the small things, like replaying the sex scene in a movie or eying the women in Todo's magazines he would bring on occasion. But that wasn't enough to quell the thrumming in his head or the whisper in the back of his mind craving more. Yuuta truly thought he could ignore it all though, that is, until he met you.
At first, it was easy for him to treat you as nothing more than a friend, a classmate. He could ignore how peculiarly beautiful and kind you were. He could brush off how your witty remarks during tough missions always made him laugh, and how the light, airy giggles that escaped your mouth when Yuuta did something unintentionally funny made butterflies swarm in his stomach. Then summer rolled around, and you started wearing more revealing clothes—short skirts and tights instead of long pants, which were apparently "easier to train in" you told him.
And it was only when you innocently bent over to pick something up one afternoon, when Yuuta accidentally caught a glimpse of your white underwear that dug into the fat of your plump butt, that the dam finally broke. When you turned around to bashfully apologize for accidentally flashing him, Yuuta was already gone. Unbeknownst to you, he had fled to his dorm room, struggling to hide his painfully hard dick in his pants.
Yuuta barely makes it to his bed before he is pulling down his black uniform pants and wrapping a shaky hand around his thick cock. He's not an idiot, he knows how to jack off, but there is something different right now. When in the past the few times he touched himself was to quickly get rid of arousal, now Yuuta finds himself yearning for something more.
He slowly drags his hand down his shaft and the satisfaction is immediate: just one stroke sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through his entire body. The pleasure is mind-numbing, and just a taste of it has him yearning for more.
“Oh fuh-“ Yuuta's voice comes out breathless. He screws his eyes shut and darts a tongue across his lips to wet them. Almost immediately his mind wonders back to you, how delicious your ass looked, how beautiful you are, how beautiful you would be with your lips wrapped around his dick. How would your breasts feel in his palm? What would your face look like if he tweaked and sucked on your nipples? God, what would your pussy feel like.
Pap pap. Yuuta was starting to create a semi fast rhythm, white precum collecting in the spaces of his fingers as he furiously glided his tight grip up and down his dick. He doesn't just want to think about you; he wants to obsess over you. He doesn't just want to feel pleasure; he wants to drown in it. No, he wants to drown in you.
He's practically panting right now imaging himself inside you. If he felt good right now, how good would the real thing be? Oh he bet the squeeze around his dick would be delicious, he can practically hear you whining his name. Yuuta's legs trembled as his hand gilded over his overstimulated red tip and down to his heavy balls. Jesus this was good, so good, he needed more, Yuuta needed more friction because god if he couldn't have your pussy right now he at least needed to pretend.
Through heavy pleasure-filled lidded eyes, he glanced to the pillow next time him.
He was becoming greedy.
Fuck it.
Without much of a thought, Yuuta grabbed the pillow, folded it in half, laid on his side, hastily put his dick between the white cloth, and started to thrust. The friction is delicious. It makes his toes curl and desperately thrusts his hips into the soft pillow.
“Mmmm, mmm mhm” he whimpers. Your name is on the tip of his tongue, but he can barely speak so much as think. There’s a tingly warm feeling building in his stomach, the pleasure is overtaking him. What would you think if you could see him like this? Would you call him a pervert or maybe would you help him? Oh, what a dream that would be, your soft hands wrapped around him, oh he bet that you could make him feel better than this pillow ever could.
“Ah-Ah Y/n please….” The thought of you is consuming him, you don’t know it but you are giving him the best pleasure he has ever experienced in his life. Yuutas thrusts are becoming frantic, desperate, he could taste his release on the tip of his tongue. His black hair is starting to stick to his forehead from the sweat and he realized he should have taken off his white uniform coat because it was getting so hot. He was so close, so close to cumming, he hates how this pillow isnt you, isn't your pussy, after this, he promises to himself that he won't ignore you or your beauty anymore, he’ll obsess over you, kiss the ground you walk on, he’ll take care of you so good and -and oh, oh my god, he wants to breed you, fill you with cum-
“Ah-ahhh~”
Yuuta’s hips stutter into the pillow and thick ropes of cum coat the fabric. The pleasure makes his legs and mind go numb and he’s left panting, whimpering from the after shocks.
No, after this Yuuta will never avoid you again.
#yuuta smut#yuuta x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta okkotsu#jujutsu kaisen yuuta#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen#jujustu kaisen fanfic
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# PUSSY TALK !! (vi x reader)

$YNOPSIS. you’ve been feelin’ a little insecure about yourself lately. good thing you have a girlfriend who’s head over heels for you, no matter what! // wc. 2.4k
warnings. insecure!reader, talk of body image + weight, face sitting, spanking (ass + clit), praise, dirty talk, stripping, oral sex, size kink (?), teasing, fingering, begging, squirting, overstimulation, mirrors, awkward aftercare, spooning, pet names
NSFW below the cut. minors, stay away. enjoy your read!
Dresses aren’t your favourite piece of clothing. They never have been and they never will be, and even as you stare at yourself in the floor length mirror of your bedroom, you absolutely hate how this dress looks on you.
When you asked for something flared that would hide your curves, you didn’t expect your tailor to make you look like an overstuffed cream puff. The flared sleeves hang off of your arms like misplaced scraps of fabric, and the material pools at your feet, surrounding you in an unceremonious circle. You look frumpy, you feel frumpy, and nothing in the world could have convinced you that this is the dress you were going to wear to the annual Councillor’s Gala.
“What the fuck…” You turn around to inspect the back, and it’s even worse than you thought. It seems as if the tailor has attempted a daring backless design, but to you, it just looks like a gaping hole, the fabric tight and loose in all the wrong places before messily accumulating just above the apple of your ass. It looks horrible, and if you weren’t insecure enough, this dress makes you feel like a laughing stock.
And that’s when the dreaded words come out of your mouth. “I seriously need to lose weight.”
Someone doesn’t like that, because out of nowhere, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and a sharp chin on your shoulder. “And why’s that? I think it looks perfect.”
Vi loves seeing you in dresses. She thinks they make you look so graceful, no matter what shape you choose. It solidifies the fact that you are her perfect princess, and she will never understand why you hate them when they make you look so pretty.
She also doesn’t understand this whole weight thing you have going on. If anything, one of the things that first had her on her knees for you was your body, and like now, she always feels a need to be touching it, whether it be stroking your thighs or kissing your collarbone or, like now, wrapping her arms around your perfect waist and pulling you into her chest.
“‘M not perfect though, Vi,” you grumble, hands running along the sides of your chest and resting over where her hands cradle your tummy. “I look like a creampuff.”
“Creampuffs are sweet. I like creampuffs,” she says, her eyes making contact with yours in the mirror as she noses your neck. “I like you.”
You roll your eyes and whine. “I know you like me, Vi. But that’s not gonna change the fact that I hate this dress.”
“Take it off then.” She says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, like you’re not going to be stuck in it for three whole hours, playing the part of a member of high society whilst trying your hardest to ignore the obvious stares at the atrocity which is your outfit. You want to tell Vi that it seriously isn’t as easy as that, but you’re distracted by her hands slipping into the open back of your dress.
“I can help you,” she whispers in your ear, and you can feel the cold metal of her nose piercing against your heated skin. “Take it off, I mean. Relax.”
“Vi…”
“Can we try something?” She begins to kiss your neck slowly, and you whimper when you feel the rough scar on her lip brush against your heated flesh. “I know you’ve been feeling some way about your body lately, and to be honest, I have no idea why because your body is already so fucking perfect…” Her hands slide up the insides of your dress, and you lift your shoulders automatically as she slips those god awful sleeves off of your shoulders. “There’s something I want you to do for me.”
After all this time, she hasn’t broken eye contact once, and you notice her eyes go dark when she shoves the front of your dress down, only to find your perky nipples staring right back at her. “What is it?”
“Sit on my face,” she states simply, hands coming round to rub at your tits. “I want all of it, baby. Your whole body. I want you to fuckin’ suffocate me.”
You probably will. You stare at your girlfriend in the mirror incredulously, because there’s no way in the universe that you’re going to sit on her face. Not in a million years, and certainly not today. “No.”
“Give me one good reason why not.” She has a point, because it’s getting increasingly hard to refute her when her hands are making their way underneath the front material of your dress, letting it drop to the floor and revealing your regulation panties. “Go on, give me one good reason why you shouldn’t sit on my face.” Before you can open your mouth to protest, Vi smiles and bites your shoulder. “And your weight is not a valid answer.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Violet.”
“Yes, baby?” She acts like nothing is wrong, like asking you to crush her skull in between your legs a couple hours before the most important event of the year is a completely normal request. And she continues to act this way, even when she slips her hand into your panties, fingers eagerly in search of your clit. “So what I’m hearing is you don’t want to sit on my face, and you don’t want me to make you feel so good that you forget all about this stupid dress and that stupid gala?”
Your back arches into her chest when she starts rubbing your clit in small circles, lips widening into a smile as she watches you unravel against her. “That’s not what I said.”
“So why are you acting like you don’t want it?” She’s taunting you now, fingers halting all movement on your clit and sliding down lower, tips starting to tease your quivering hole. “Because I know you want it, baby. She’s telling me you want it.”
You hate how Vi can read you like a book. You do want this, but you’re worried, and she makes sure to eliminate of all of that worry by slipping her fingers into your cunt, mouth dropping open in wonder when you begin to crumple against her.
“Vi, please.”
“No.” Stubborn. “You’re not cumming unless you’re where you're supposed to be, princess. My game, my rules, and no amount of that pretty begging is gonna change that.”
You bite your lip as you feel her palm grind against your clit, fingers speeding up and continually assaulting your sweet spot. It’s so hard not to beg her to let you cum, especially with the way she’s holding eye contact with you so intensely.
“Say the words, and that orgasm’s yours,” she mumbles, smile ever present as her fingers alternate speeds. “Come on baby, I know you can.”
You can, you will, and you do. Your pleas to cum are replaced with nonsensical begging and whimpering, your hands futilely clawing at her biceps as you try to rip her fingers away from your weeping hole. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it, just let me cum, Vi, please-”
All of a sudden, the pressure building up inside of you dissipates, and you notice Vi licking her fingers clean as she backs towards the bed. “That’s what I like to hear,” she laughs, sitting down on the bed in a way that has you weak in the knees. “Come take a seat, princess.”
Embarrassingly enough, that’s all it takes to have you stepping out of the pool of fabric on the floor and crawling onto the bed towards her, legs planted on either side of her hips as you bend over and catch her lips in a heated kiss. It’s loud and it’s messy, her hands sliding up your thighs and onto your covered ass as you grind down onto her knee, tongue intertwining with hers in a clash of passion and need.
“Good fucking girl,” she groans, squeezing the flesh of your ass before slapping it hard, drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. “Come on, baby, c’mere, come sit.”
Your hands splay the surface of her chest as you push her back onto the bed lightly, chest heaving gently with every heated breath you take. Vi looks up at you like you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, because to her, you are, and she wouldn’t want to be underneath anyone else.
“There she is,” she whispers as you situate yourself comfortably on her chest. “My pretty girl, huh?”
“I’m nervous,” you mumble, hips beginning to move slowly as you plant your hands on either side of her head. “I… don’t wanna hurt you.”
“Trust me, you won’t.” She captures your hips in her strong hands and pulls you further up her body, letting you hover just above her collarbone. “I’ve lifted this perfect body with my own two hands before. What makes you think a little face sitting will hurt me?”
In a way, she’s right. Vi is strong, more so than most people. If it got too much, she would be able to move you effortlessly, and-
You’re pulled out of your train of thought by the feeling of Vi’s nose nestling in between your legs, rubbing up against your pulsing clit under your panties. “Vi…”
“You’re thinkin’ too much, baby,” she groans, voice muffled in between your thighs. “Just do it.” This time, she doesn’t leave you any time to think, because she’s now mouthing at your cunt through your panties, strong arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you ever closer. You gasp in surprise, one hand coming up to grip onto the headboard as you fight not to lose balance.
Another thing about Vi: she’s impatient. And when you hesitate to begin moving your hips, she does it for you, fingers pulling the seat of your underwear to one side and arms pushing you down hard.
“She’s so wet, baby, I don’t know how you can say you don’t want this.” Her tongue darts out to lick your throbbing clit and you whine, hips stuttering as you stare hazily at the mess of pink hair in between your legs. Vi is staring up at you with lust swirling in her eyes, and you can feel her smile on your cunt as her tongue slides downwards to your entrance. “I mean, she is practically begging me to eat her out. Is that what you want?”
Before you can answer her, you’re caught off guard by her hand slapping at your clit playfully, sending pleasured shockwaves throughout your system. “ ‘M not talking to you anymore, silly,” she laughs, thumbs rubbing at the area she just assaulted. “I’m talking to her, since my girl doesn’t seem to know what she wants anymore.”
“Stop it,” you grumble, but Vi pays no notice, resuming her languid licks on your pussy. Your protests are quickly turned into prolonged whines and whimpers of her name, the pressure once taken from you beginning to build in your core with each shallow thrust of her tongue into your hole.
“Not until she’s satisfied, angel.” And she means it, because the grip she has on your thighs is nothing next to lethal, and you feel yourself begin to shake as the pressure builds more and more. “And she’s getting close, don’t you think?”
She is. Your head begins to swim and you tangle your fingers in Vi’s hair in an attempt to stabilise yourself but it proves futile, mouth dropping open as you beg her to let you finish. “Vi, please, please, I’m sorry, I-”
“Nothin’ to apologise for, angel, you’re doing a great job.” You have no idea how she still manages to speak when she’s being all but crushed in the trap that is your quivering thighs, but her voice drives you ever closer, your hips grinding down onto her happily awaiting tongue as you chase your orgasm desperately. You want it- no, you need it, and when she begins to massage your ass sensually, you think you might just squirt.
“Vi...”
“Yeah, baby? Is she telling you something?” She loves playing this game, delaying your orgasm as long as possible whilst making it impossible to hold yourself back. It feels like her hands are everywhere because suddenly her thumb is massaging your clit, and you’re begging her like there’s no tomorrow.
She seems satisfied by your begging, because she takes one arm off of your thigh to use her fingers to fuck your needy cunt. “Cum for me baby, c,mon. Give it to me.”
And give it to her, do you, and in gracious abundance at that. Your juices drench her face unceremoniously as you twitch above her, spine shaking as you hold on to her hair for dear life. You’re all but riding her tongue, and she’s moaning profusely into your cunt, the vibrations only heightening your sensitivity. And try as you might, you can’t pull her away, her mouth a suction as she pushes you unforgivingly into overstimulation.
When you’re all but ready to surrender your stability to her relentless assault in between your legs, you feel a strong pair of hands lifting you off of her mouth gently, and light kisses being littered all over the expanse of your thighs. Vi’s mouth travels along your skin lazily, her powdery blue eyes looking up at your shaky form with nothing but love etched into her irises. You barely begin to register the sweet praises she gives you, instead basking in the afterglow of your intense climax mixed with the feeling of her hands stroking your back.
Moments later and you’re laying down on the bed next to her, curled in a foetal position as you fight the army of sleep threatening to overthrow you. “Are you tired?”
“Mhm.”
“Why don’t you… skip the gala? Stay here with me, I’ll cook, and…”
You think the difference between the Vi laying next to you now and the Vi who made you climax to the brink of passing out is a cute one. She’s never been too good with aftercare, instead trying to make awkward conversation in an attempt to divert from the fact that she just rocked your world in more ways than one. “We can stay home. I’ll tell the organisers I wasn’t feeling too well.” That, and the fact that god awful dress made you want to bust a nerve.
Vi smiles at you gently, and you wish you could stay like this with her forever. “Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.”
© this work belongs to choslut. do not copy, translate, repost or feed my work into any regenerative ai system.
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#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane smut#vi arcane#vi x reader#vi smut#league of legends#league of legends x reader#league of legends smut#fanfic#x reader
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