#X — CRACK
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naturalbrutality · 2 years ago
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   Time to let out a lil’ steam.
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      1, 2 and a ,1 ,2 ,3
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 ♪ I HATE EVERYTHING. I”M SO GODDAMN TIRED ALL THE TIMEEE.    EXISTENTIAL DREAD IS LOOMING OVER ME AND I’M NOT EVEN THIRTY YYYET. WHY IS DEKU SUCH A TRASH CLOWWWNNN. HE’S SUCH TRASHHHH -  ♫       deep breath
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    T̗͚̯̬̍͟R̬̮̂ͭ͡Ạ͙̱͙͚̯̺̻̉ͯ͐̿͝S̢̮̹̟̺̹̈̓Ḩ͉̭̳͛̌ͫ̉ C̨̣͚͓̗͕̪̗͈̿L̼̣̣͎͚̻̐̇͟O̢̬̟̬̭͎̬̣͑Ẅ̋̈́̿҉̞̪N͖̘̖̠ͩ͘ͅN͈̠̳͖͐̃͑͂́N̖̼͓̳̯̮̍́Ñ̫̼̟̓͞ͅN̗̭̣̥͉͆ͭ͋ͧ̀ͅ ̝̳͖̟ͥ͠ͅ  D̲̩̄̎̈́̚͘E͛͏͇̺͎͇̫K̛͙̳ͭ̋Ư̠͓͙̯̭ͯ͒̅Ủ̺̜̞͉̞͖͡ͅU̧͕̳̰͙̠̜͚ͮ̓̊̚ͅŪ͙̪̪̠̔ͥ͡U̶̙͖̮͙̝̦ͯU̵̻̪̬̭ͦ͛ͬU̳̞̎̽͞Ṳ̴̣̣̣̭̲̟ͤ̾̿Ǘ͎̝̥̑̂̐͜U̙͙̝̝̳͚ͩ͜U̪̹ͨͧ̊ͬ͘ 
                                                                I̴͇̻͍͈͔̼̰̅    ̗̣̦̎ͧ͟H̸͉̣̞̩̺͐ͅAͤ̑҉͚̜̰Tͮ҉̩̱̹̟̟̖̝͕Ė̩͎͗̓͟   ̷͖͕̥̩̲̋̚Ỳ̻̯̪̦͜O̡̥͉̖͖̖͈̺ͫ̔ͣU̵͙̬̝̟̪͊ͬU̸͔̪̳̮̜̥ͫ̓̚U̴̯̭̲̔̾͑͑Ṷ͙̱̝͎̿̓̀    E̵̖̟͓̰̥͚̐ͫĂͣ̈҉̹̦̖̰̝̞̟T̸̯̯̤̞̜̾ ̛̖̟̔̉̒ S̞̗̟̬͕ͮ͟H̶͉̠̯̗̲̰̳ͦ̍̏̎Į̱̹̯̝̝͛̏̽T̹͔͗ͫ̏ͩ͞ ̞͖̯̫͇͋͡ A̓͒͏̦̬N̬͔͖̖̼͔͔̫̓̇̇͜D̥͍͔̹͚͉͓̿͢ ̷̻̭̹̦̦̎͂ͅͅͅ D̸̳̯̺̹̬̐̽̅I̛͔͔̫̊ͣͭ̒E̸̫̤̜͖̰͇̞̤͊E̺̦̦͙̞ͮ̇̌͜E̯̤̯̺͗̾̚͟E͍̺͙̾̋ͭͭ͡Ḙ̷̠͍̟̤̺̤̗́́E͚͍̺̙̼̮̅̕E̯̳̊́̿̃͝
                                                                                                 drum         solo
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jackalspine · 6 months ago
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@schnuffel-danny hehehe
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regarding this post: from schnuffle
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jjk4isen · 2 months ago
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super annoying gojo satoru when a girl comes up to you and asks you if he's your brother even after clearly seeing him grabbing your ass and saying super cheesy lines to you to make you only roll your eyes at him.
and you're stuck dumbfounded because it's not rocket science to figure out that you two are a thing just by looking at the both of you because the clingy bastard is quite literally stuck to you everywhere you go, whining and pleading for yet another kiss after stealing several from you.
and it's the same clinginess that prompts him to answer in your stead "yes actually. we're siblings" he beams a smile at you and you scowl, why the hell is he feeding onto this random girl's delusions like that? can't he take the hint?
you're not done scrutinising him when he grabs your chin with his big ass hands and smashes his lips onto yours, tugging and devouring your mouth into an extra sloppy kiss for the girl to take a hint.
he pulls away, a smirk on his lips as he licks his lips where yours had been a second ago. "is that obvious enough?" he chuckles, eyes never leaving yours as you see the girl storm off in the corner of your eye.
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blkkizzat · 7 months ago
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❝DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY!❞
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⏯ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER
⏭ summary: your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? college au.
⏭ cw: virgin!satoru, gentle sex then rough sex , spanking (ass & pussy), slight sugar daddy/baby dynamic, coercion, dubcon, ecchi/pervy/freak nasty satoru, apprehensive bimbo!reader scared to nut, reader is also a bit of a tsundere brat but this isn't brat taming per se, oral fixation, toe licking, riding, prone bone, missionary, pussy eating, deep-throating, forced gagging, fingering, squirting, edging, olfactophilia, hand-job, protected & unprotected sex, bdsm references, masturbation, bit of somnophilia, pet names: Bunny (reader is called that in lieu of y/n), suggestions of geto x reader, mentions of satosugu and shokohime.
⏭ a/n: in my crack smut bag again cause this white haired demon wont let me rest until i write this nasty shit. fr tho this fic 13.3k and literally 10k of it is Gojo fucking you six ways to sunday. fyi this is the same y/n from nerd!geto but this is a different version of that AU where suguru is the one who has rizz and satoru is the nerd. y'all better read this or i'll never write gojo again istg lmfao. also shoutout to @halosdiary for beta reading and telling me it was good enough to post lol.
eta: y'all won. its a series now lol
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“FUCK YEAH, LET’S GO!!! I ALONE AM THE CHAMPION OF THE DIGITAL WORLD!!!”
Startled by Gojo’s sudden outburst—you nearly rolled off the bed. 
Thankfully Suguru is sitting next to you and caught you before you fell off completely. 
Fully energized by his win Gojo sprang up from his elaborate PC setup, bouncing around the room in celebration. Fist-pumping the air he couldn’t contain his excitement after winning the Tokyo Regional Qualifiers for the Digimon Online TCG. 
“Guys, hey guys! See! I told you I’d win! I’m the strongest! The digidestined!”
You and Suguru exchanged exasperated glances before side-eyeing the hell out of Gojo.
This went on for a good 10 minutes so you had since returned to mindlessly scrolling TikTok, not wanting to encourage your grown-ass-almost-22-years-old-best-friend’s excitement over a children’s game.
“You sure showed those middle schoolers, Toru.”
Suguru quips with a smile. He’s clearly being sarcastic but Gojo is unfazed—nothing could damper his mood.
“Damn straight I did!”
Both you and Suguru have to chuckle, rolling your eyes at his childish enthusiasm. 
Despite the shared sentiment of annoyance over your best friend’s hobbies, you both were just happy to have Gojo back again. Two long years had passed since his parents made him travel the world on a rotation program, tasked with visiting the various Six-Vision Industries offices he would one day inherit. 
Being the nerdy genius he was, Gojo stacked a mass of university level credits in high school. So even with missing the first two years of college he’d still be joining you as a third year at your university come fall. 
After being apart for so long it was refreshing to hang out again and kicking it at Gojo’s mansion had been a daily occurrence since the start of the summer. Although things had definitely changed in the two years Gojo had been away there was one thing that certainly hadn’t.
Gojo was still a fucking huge otaku nerd. 
You’d thought his time spent in the business world would have matured him. However, being abroad, away from his friends and spending all day around the ‘stinky old fogeys in suits’ as he called them, only made him retreat further into otakudom. 
That much was evident as his collection of posters, figures and manga had somehow only seemed to grow even with him away. 
“Alright, while I just would love to stick around and hear more about you destroying the dreams of 12 year olds Toru—beach girl just texted me, gotta bounce!”
Suguru tries to leave but Toru clings onto him practically spider monkeying himself onto his back in an effort to get him to stay. 
“Sugu! Don’t leave! We’ve already been apart from each other for too long~~”
Sighing, Suguru attempts to pry his incorrigible bestie off of him.
“Satoru, you just spent the last 5 hours playing Digimon acting like me and Bunny weren’t even here. I’m sure if you go back to playing you won't even miss me.”
Gojo continues to pout as he whines for Suguru to stay.
“But I miss you already Sugu!”
Gojo presses his cheek against Suguru’s as Suguru’s eyebrow begins to twitch.
“I know! Invite your date here! Our chef is 10 times better than any restaurant you’d go to and you know we have an infinity pool grotto and onsen!
While the offer was tempting as any potential date would be thoroughly wowed by the decadent splendor that was the Gojo Family Residence—Suguru would also thoroughly cuck himself once his date was given the grand tour. 
Particularly the stop which included Gojo’s anime figure and otaku memorabilia rooms. 
While a good number of them were harmlessly nerdy shonen or slightly ecchi isekai figures—the rest? Well the rest contained every kind of freak nasty hentai figure you could think of—shibari, futanari and even the classic La Blue Girl tentacle dioramas—it was like a horny museum. 
Although at this point it should be considered a horny mausoleum as no woman who walked in would be walking out still in the mood—it was surely a place where horny went to die.
“Uh yeah, sure next time Toru….”
Suguru reaches back to pat Gojo on the head reassuringly. 
Lying as he was more than certain there wouldn’t be a next time. There wasn’t even going to be dinner—this was purely a hookup situation. 
“...but she’s already waiting for me outside my place—gotta run!”
Realizing Gojo still wasn’t letting go, Suguru sighs realizing this would require him utilizing his Judo training. 
In one swift movement, Suguru manages to shoulder-wheel Gojo and toss him onto the other side of his massive bed. The bed rebounds as he lands, slightly lifting you off your belly but you still are more interested in your phone. 
This isn’t the first time Suguru has Judo thrown Gojo off of him (likely wouldn’t be the last either).
Saying quick goodbyes before Gojo could recover, Suguru manages to slip away.
“Traitor!!! So much for bros before hoes!”
Utterly dejected, Gojo crawls up next to you on his massive bed.
“At least I still have you here Bunny.”
“Uh, not to pile on but you know I’m only here until Shoko and Utahime text me they are ready to go to the mall, right? I’m in dire need of a new handbag!”
Now clinging on to you Gojo throws another small tantrum as the weight of half his sinewy body presses into your back, his lean muscular arms wrapping around your shoulders.
“Not you too, Bunny puhleeease!”
You’ve known each other since you were in diapers so it wasn’t odd for you, him or Suguru to be found giving the others platonic cuddles like this—often all together too. The both of them were always so much bigger than you so you often enjoyed the comfort and security of always being the filling in the cuddle sandwich.
Gojo rests his chin on your shoulder watching as you continue scrolling TikTok. You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before his irritatingly hyperactive nature gets the best of him, and he starts poking around your phone to click on other videos that weren’t the 'mystery and makeup' ones you were watching.
“Toru, you know you could get a lot of your own hoes to hang out with if you weren’t such a huge otaku nerd…”
You had to swat Gojo’s hand away again as he tries to click on another prank video and he rolls off of you with a frustrated sigh. 
“...you’re almost as good looking as Suguru…”
Muttering the last part of that under your breath. Arguably Gojo’s features were just as if not more striking than Suguru’s. 
He was too hot himself for all of it to go to waste for being such a big dork.
“I’m sure Sugu would be happy to teach you ‘the way of the fuckboy’ if you asked Toru—that is if you’d actually go out clubbing like a normal 21 year old.”
“Why would I do that though? My house is 100 times better than a club!” 
Touché. 
While no one in your friend group was what someone would consider poor, Gojo’s wealth paled in comparison to anyone else’s and that went without saying. He’d had everything—if not more—than even the nicest tokyo club had. This was all thanks to his parents as socialites in their own right, often entertaining businessmen, dignitaries or foreign representatives with their ultra-exclusive parties.
“Besides, it wouldn't work—”
Gojo continued to pout.
“—Suguru would just get all the hoes anyway.” 
Easily able to walk up to even the most standoffish looking women, Suguru would have them reduced to bashful school girls in under 5 minutes. The women were always willing to hand over their numbers or drop any immediate plans to hang out with Suguru instead.
A good number of them had boyfriends already too.
Yet despite having the looks, Gojo opening his mouth ruined any advantage his lustrous blue eyes, exotic snow white hair and sharp handsome features gave him.
“Well, Suguru has a normal 21 year old’s room for starters, Toru. Not full of nerdy ass anime posters and Digimon tournament trophies.”
Gojo goes quiet. 
Driven from an early age to fill his head with knowledge of politics, technology, and international business relations, he spent the precious free time he did get with his friends or consumed by his own interests. Interests which just happened to be a bunch of otaku shit—Digimon in particular. 
It was an escape he’d cherished as a child and that didn’t change growing into adulthood either, if anything he needed it more now.
When Gojo doesn’t answer you look over to see him actually sulking for real now—face buried in a giant Agumon pillow plushie. 
What a crybaby. 
But the crybaby was one of your besties so you decided to lighten the mood and tease him a little.
“Ya know Toruuuu….you could just fuck Sugu then. Don’t think I haven’t seen y’all get a lil’ handsy during our cuddles!”
You give him a playful smirk and mime grabby hands at him.
“Oh and you haven’t? Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck Suguru either!”
No longer appearing mopey, Gojo is up and laughing again. Mission Accomplished.
“Hey! I never said I wouldn’t but this isn’t about me, this is about you finally getting some play!”
You snap back but you’re blushing.
Like damn, who hadn’t thought about fucking Suguru though? 
“It's not the same if he makes me bottom! Plus no one thinks I can get pussy!”
Gojo grumbles, hugging his Agumon plushie to his cheek. 
You can’t help but notice how cute and baby girl he looks all pouty. 
He’d definitely get women lining up around the block of his huge ass mansion if he could at least get to the dating phase without giving out the otaku ick. 
“Because you can’t Gojo—Hoes don’t want to fuck guys who play Digimon!”
“But you’re a hoe and you like digimon too!”
Turning to look at him, you’d had half a mind to slap the shit out of Satoru but he had said it so earnestly. There was no sass nor malice behind his words. 
Besides, you were a hoe. That wasn’t something you ever denied.
You sigh. 
“Yeah I am a hoe now and I—keyword—liked Digimon. But that was back when I was a kid, Toru!”
Gojo scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“Listen, you’re my friend so m’gonna keep it a buck with you—a guy concerned with being digidestined is definitely not pussy destined, you digidork!”
You playfully hit him with the pillow you were laying on, not wanting him to start sulking again. 
Finally stimulated by something interesting Gojo wastes no time joining the pillow fight you initiated and you tussle with him on the bed until you both are exhausted and out of breath. 
Of course you come out of it victorious though. By the end you’d pinned both the pillows and Toru under you. 
Gojo however is back to pouting.
“Ugh, Bunny seriously though—I can’t go into junior year of college as a virgin!”
You smirk at his complaints as the answer is obvious.
“Throw away your figures and digimon cards then.”
“I’d rather die.”
“A virgin? At this rate you will.”
Gojo huffs in defeat as you settle comfortably on top of him this time. 
You’re about to reach for your phone again until you see a curious look flash across his face—the kind of look he always had as a kid when he thought of a hair-brain scheme that would lead to getting you all in trouble.
“Toru—what is it? And why do I have the feeling m’not gonna like it?”
You pull away cautiously, but his large hands grip your waist, stopping you and causing you to squeak in surprise.
“Hm, I dunno—was just thinkin’... why don’t you fuck me, Bunny?”
Your deadpan expression has Gojo scrambling, holding you closer in a vice grip when you try to squirm away. 
“Hey! Wait, I’m serious! Come on, Bunny! I need the experience and you always tell us about all your hookups! You have the experience—help a guy out!”
Staring at him skeptically you considered.
I mean sure, you always thought Gojo was attractive, more so since he returned this summer nearly a half a foot taller—but he was Gojo Satoru.
Your dorky, goofy, pervy otaku bestie practically since birth! 
You couldn’t just go and fuck him could you?
God, you could only imagine the taunts you’d get if word got out. Your friend group would never let you live it down! 
“Nah Toru—that would be too weird!”
“Huh, how come? You said I was almost as attractive as Suguru earlier!”
You stiffen.
Fuck, he’d heard that after all. 
“Ooo, ooo! Annnnd, you said last week you wanted a sugar daddy… Well, hi! I’m right here!”
The huge grin on his face has you frowning although more so because he was actually making some sense for once. I mean you were half-joking when you said it—well, let’s be honest not really. 
However, you mostly said it because while your family was well off enough, you still weren’t living in the lap of luxury by any means like a Gojo clan member. Unfortunately for you though, you were born with the expensive tastes of someone who was. So while you could afford a cute Chanel bag or a MCM wallet here or there, you’d set your sights on something higher—a coveted Hermes Birkin. 
Toru certainly could afford to buy you a whole truck load of them with what his family made in less than an hour. 
Nevertheless that wasn’t really the issue at hand. 
In spite of you being far from a virgin, there was actually a good reason why you wouldn’t be a good choice for Gojo to lose his v-card.
“Er, em—that’s really not the issue, Toru…” 
Trailing off you’re the one pouting now as you glance at your nails. 
“Then what? Don’t tell me our lil’ Bun Bun is shy now? Over lil’ ol’ me?”
Gojo teases you by sticking out his tongue—chuckling when you snap your head up to glare at him.
“You wish…” 
You grumble, chewing your lip now and debating whether or not to tell him the truth while Gojo looks at you with wide and glassy puppy eyes. Shaking your head you come to the conclusion you could trust him with your secret. 
He was the virgin otaku after all—he’s the one who should be embarrassed here!
“It’s just that…I–I can’t cum.”
Gojo just blinks at you. 
Clearly confused with metaphorical question marks surrounding his head as that's definitely not the answer he was expecting.
“I’ve slept with plenty of guys before but I never had an orgasm. I don't even really get close—I mean, sure, it feels good, I guess—mostly just a little weird. I heard some people just can’t and maybe that's me.”
You shrug, a bit nervous to look Gojo in the eye as you thought he may tease you further about this but was lost in contemplation. Almost as if he was seriously trying to do the biological math around what you’d just told him.  
After about a minute more he finally asks—
“—Does Suguru know?”
A simple question, unloaded in tone as Gojo is genuinely curious but it leaves you flustered nonetheless. 
“What?! Are you crazy?! Why would I tell him?!”
“Just figured if anyone could then—”
“—Hell no, Toru! Besides, what if he does? I’m not trying to be reduced to a fuckboy’s pick me if he ends up being the only man alive who can give me an orgasm!”
Sure Suguru was hot as fuck—as was a lot of your other fuckboy friends (Toji and Sukuna)—but you definitely didn’t want to end up like the dickmatized girls that would follow them around and literally box each other in the streets over some cock. 
You weren’t much of a fighter anyway and your face was far too cute to be getting scratched up.
Pussy should be put on a pedestal, not the other way around. You’d continue to be orgasmless before it came to that.
“Mm, but Shoko and Utahime know?”
You’re blushing more than ever this time.
“Um, yeah—T-They said once I realized all men were worthless to call them and they’d give me multiple of them.”
Gojo snorted at that but he was now convinced you both could help each other. 
“So we have no other options—then it's settled!”
In one fluid motion Gojo snatches away the pillows from between you and swaps positions—now with you on the bottom.
“Huh–wait—Toru!?”
Gojo groans.
“Come on, Bunny! I want pussy, you want to cum on top of getting that Bikram bag—
“—Birkin bag.” 
You corrected him.
“Yeah that one! So let’s help each other out, eh?  PULHEEEASEEE—Just the tip?”
You weren’t at all convinced that Gojo—whose sexual knowledge came purely from JAV, hentai and onaholes—could make you cum.
But then again sure, fuck it, why not?
You were getting bored waiting for Shoko to call you anyway and if Toru was willing to come off a Birkin for a lil’ pussy, you might as well fuck him. 
None of the other guys you had fucked even came close to making sex this worth it. Frankly this would be worth it even if you didn’t actually cum.  
“Fiiiine Toru, let’s have sex—”
“FUCK YEAH!”
“—BUT we’re laying down some ground rules!”
Sitting up with a straight back, Gojo obediently awaited your orders.
“Anything you want Bunny, name 'em go’on!”
Gojo’s overenthusiasm was like a puppy and you were sure if he had a tail it would be thumping on the bed like crazy now. 
You wanted to crack a smile but you know from prior experience that if you give men an inch they will take the whole goddamn mile—and Gojo of all people was no exception—so you are firm as you sit up to look in his eyes and lay down the law.
 “First—like you said, just the tip.”
Gojo started to protest but the raise of your eyebrows had him changing his tune immediately.
“Got it! Got it! Just the tip would be amazing Bunny, what else?”
He chided himself and you continued.
“And secondly, just because you bros have no loyalty, it’s still ‘chicks before dicks’ over here. You better get your nut quick cause I’m still leaving to go purse shopping when Shoko and Utahime call me.”
Gojo waves you off with that rule. 
“Psh, we should have plenty of time, it's almost 6pm! They’ve probably been too busy bumping their own purses together to go shopping with you for one. You haven’t heard from either of them in hours!”
Fair point—wildly out of pocket, but fair. 
Still. 
“Bumping Purses!? Really, Toru?”
“You know I’m not lying—but that’s it then, right Bunny?”
Not waiting, Gojo throws his shirt off and starts fumbling with the ties on his sweats before you stop him.
“Nah, Toru, hold your horses! One more rule!”
Freezing mid-action, Gojo's hands are shaking as he expectantly gazes at you, waiting for the last condition before you give him the green light.
“Finally, third—and most fucking importanly—if you make any, and I mean even just ONE—otaku reference, especially Digimon while you’re inside me I’ll snap your lil’ digidick off, understood?”
Gojo swallowed. 
Hard terms to live with but something he would be willing to abide by for pussy.
“Yes ma’am! Got it! Just the tip, you will ditch me for the purse bumpers and no Digimon!”
Gojo repeats your rules matter-of-factly. 
You roll your eyes but are satisfied enough he understood and you wave him off in the direction of your bag.
“Good. Now, be a good boy and go get a rubber out of my purse.” 
Bolting over to your purse Gojo grabs a pack of condoms and is back on the bed in an instant.
Reality sinking in on what you were about to do and who you were about to do it with, you suddenly become hyper aware, appraising Gojo. 
You note just how much in the two years since high school he’s grown. Still a bit lanky in areas but overall he filled out more for sure and his muscles were much more defined rippling underneath his skin as he eagerly clambered over you. Gojo still possessed the same piercing sky blue eyes that lit up a room but they looked all too predatorily hungry now that he was hovering over you. 
You swallow.
You’d feel almost completely out of control of the situation if it wasn’t also for the bundle of nervous energy radiating off of Gojo—his hands spasming like he might bust his pants the moment he touches you.
You try to maintain your composure, but your jaw drops and your eyes widen in shock when he finally pushes his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion.
Gojo was fucking huge!
“Toru—what the actual fuck?!”
Third leg was a massive understatement. 
I mean you didn’t think he’d be small—you’d been around him enough in boxers, sweats, pjs, etc growing up—but you didn’t expect this. 
He was definitely a grower and Christ did he just fucking grow!
Gojo looked puzzled until he followed your wide eyed gawking down to his lower half. 
Heh. 
“Am I the biggest you’ve seen, Bunny?”
Growing prideful Gojo pokes at you a bit and your ogling only grows more incredulous. 
You didn't know if he was the girthiest but certainly the longest by far. He’d actually puncture a lung if he stuck that whole monstrous thing in you!
It would literally have to be just the tip and you are thanking God right now that he’d already agreed to those terms. That would be much too uncomfortable to cum from and you are beginning to question how the pornstars manage. This wasn’t a JAV but Gojo, if his company ever went belly up, certainly had a promising career on OnlyFans ahead of him.
Gojo’s chest puffed up ten times more from your staring as he slipped the condom on (which only fit two-thirds of the way down). 
“O-Ok, Bunny now you!”
His cock throbbed more violently the longer you looked at him. The anticipation is contagious to say the least and you can't help but feel your chest warm at his eagerness. 
Gojo wants to get the attention off of him and you smile at him knowingly.
“You mean you don’t want to take my clothes off yourself?”
The thought never occurred to Gojo but he dumbly nodded. Your yelps echo in the room as his massive hands are on your hips faster than lighting pulling you towards him. 
The motion causes your tits to jiggle, the soft mounds moving freely beneath your spaghetti strapped halter and Gojo berates himself on how he only now is noticing you weren’t wearing a bra all this time. 
Gojo’s mouth goes dry at your nipples, already peaked and poking through the thin fabric. 
Your nipples pucker further when the crisp air of the A/C hits them after Gojo pulls your top overhead and you arch up to assist, not realizing you presented yourself to him like a treat to a dog. 
“T-Toru!!!!”
Gojo wraps his strong sturdy arms fully around your body. Pressing his face deep into your chest as his warm wet lips latch onto a nipple. His mouth now suctioned to you, Gojo swirls and flicks his tongue around the hardened bud. Gojo moans around your flesh, pleasantly surprised at how addicting the sweet salty taste of your skin is. 
If Gojo wasn’t sure he had an oral fixation before he surely knows now. Zoning out everything else except for the sloppy sounds of him worshiping your breast, he relishes the contrasting textures of his rough tongue suckling the soft skin of your swelling bud. 
Gojo surely would have been latched onto you for hours and you are only able to pry his head away when he releases your nipple with a wet pop to take a breath.
“TORU!!!”
You’re panting and red faced as you yank his head back. 
But Gojo is a man solely focused—tongue hanging out off his mouth captivated by how cutely your areola puffed as it glistened with his spit and fighting overwhelming desire to get the other one in a similar state.
“Huh–Bunny, b-baby—you taste so good n’ your tiddies are so nice—so fuh-kin’ soft.”
Gojo’s tongue is hanging out of his mouth drooling as he attempts to dive back into your chest. you feel his heavy cock on your thigh as his hips begin to rut against you. 
This was too much!
“Stop Toru! You’re being too rough, they are sensitive! Besides, times’ ticking! Remember I have no problem leaving you blue balled if Shoko or Utahime call me!” 
You do your best to give him a disapproving look as you blush.
“Awe but you seemed like you were liking it, you were whining loud enough.”
“Shut up n’just get on with it!”
“Yes ma’am~~”
Enjoying your breasts so much Gojo almost forgot he hadn’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. 
Making quick work of your shorts, Gojo manages to pull them down just over your core but is stunned once again as he burns the image of the skin-melding fabric of the mesh hot pink g-string covering your cunt. The thin satiny straps dug into your supple hips amplifying your curvaceous form.
Fucking slutty as hell!  
Rivaling that of even his most favorite and most scandalous hentai figures. 
This was so much better, so much more lewd as the clingy fabric struggles to cover the fat of your plump pussy lips—not like the transparency of them left much to the imagination. 
God help him, he just wants to tear them off with his teeth and open mouth swan-dive into your dewy lil’cunt—-pushing his tongue deep into your peachy core tongue fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you until he drowned in your milky nectar—but he has to restrain himself.
You probably wouldn’t like that too much given your reaction earlier and he’d die if you’d happen to just call the whole thing off.
Mouth drying and hands twitching—Gojo is trying so hard to be a good boy and contain his more perverted instincts.
“Earth to Toru! Y-You good?”
Gojo looked like a tightly wound coil ready to pop in every sense of the word and you hated that his nervousness was making you nervous too. 
So on edge you almost jumped once his eyes snapped up to meet yours.
“G-Great, Bunny…j-just fine.” 
Gojo’s voice falters, becoming more pitchy and you giggle. As much as Gojo wants to look at your pussy as he peels the flimsy moist fabric off of them he couldn’t do that at this moment—he would actually bust his pants.
Instead, Gojo leans in to kiss you, but you block him. He ends up kissing your palm instead.
“Toruuu… that be too weird, we’re friends remember?”
“Yeah friends who are fucking, Bunny! You mean you won’t let my tongue in your mouth but you’re letting my dick inside your pussy?!”
You knew it sounded nonsensical even before he said it back to you. But your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could barely hear him anyway.
You didn’t know what you were scared of this time? 
You had let all your other previous hookups makeout with you but Gojo was different. 
This felt entirely different.
You didn’t know why, you just knew it was and you were apprehensive of the unfamiliar emotions he was stirring in you and this wasn’t supposed to be anything more than an arrangement between friends.
“Don’t you need to warm up tho Bunny? Obviously m’no pro at this—but even I know a little bit more foreplay is usually needed?”
Your heart beats louder at his concern but you push that aside trying to focus on your breaths. 
Satoru should have been the easiest lay but for a reason that alludes—you were coming undone before him.
“Shut up Toru and just fuck me! The foreplay stuff doesn't matter, it won't make a difference anyway, m’not gonna cum! Also you’re big af so grab your lube. We're gonna need lots of it!”
Toru pouts but follows your commands without fuss. 
Although he’s anxious to get his dick wet he also is still thinking of how he can hold up his end of the bargain other than a stupid purse. 
You said he didn’t need to but he wanted to. 
The thought of finally losing his v-card excited him but there was something that made his cock throb harder at being the first man to give you an orgasm. 
But you don’t want him to touch you beyond what was absolutely necessary, so how was he going to accomplish that exactly?  
Gojo was a genius and had the IQ score to prove it, he’d be able to solve the problem once he was inside you, right? 
Turning back to face you after retrieving the lube from his nightstand, Toru has to grab the base of his cock this time to keep from prematurely coming in the latex that was already starting to thicken with his precum.
There you were laid out like a slut—panties pulled to the side—fingering yourself a bit to loosen up, having reconsidered his suggestion of foreplay when the twitching on your thigh reminded you of how big he actually was.
“OH SHI—”
You notice his jaw hanging open, utterly entranced as his eyes follow the motions. 
You knew you should be letting him do this to get the experience but honestly there was no sense in setting Gojo up for failure—delivering a significant blow to his ego when he inevitably couldn’t make you cum. You didn’t want to damage him even more if he felt it was his fault your pussy was apparently broken, you having tensed up completely every time a guy had tried before.
But you can’t deny you are getting some pleasure—if only through your own amusement—as you grab his cock and pump the lube he poured down his latex covered shaft, still fingering yourself—much to Gojo’s delight and wonder of seeing an actual real pussy up close. 
Gojo sucks in air and groans pitifully as your hand spreads the cool gel over his length which only intensifies his ache to be inside of you. 
“C’mere, Toru…”
You beckon sweetly, guiding him forward with your back against the pillows, you tease the crown of his tip through your folds preparing him for missionary. 
Gojo nearly bites a chunk out of his lip when his thick cockhead finally catches over your slicked entrance and you’re left wincing.
“T-Toru, e-easy—o-ok? Not too deep...”
A breathy confirmation shudders out of Gojo as he’s easing himself into your warm tightening cunt. The stretch is immediate which mentally confirms for you he is also the girthiest you’ve ever had as well. 
Your heels dig into his hips to brace yourself while he hovers over you, arms shaking.
“FUUUUUHHHH—”
Even with the rubber on, Gojo still thinks he might melt from how warm and tight you are—so much better than even his onahole with the custom grip and heating features. 
Screwing his eyes shut, Gojo has to count backwards from a million, recite Japan’s national anthem, list the GDPs of the top 10 wealthiest countries—anything—or he will cum too soon or worse, crack and drive his hips until he’s all the way to the hilt from the way your dangerous lil’ pussy is sucking him in.
God, it felt like your slutty cunt had a mind of its own calling for him to push in a lil’ deeper, greedily begging for him to go a lil’ further but Gojo resists. 
Sweat beads on his brow from the exerted effort of sheer willpower to keep his promise to you.
To Gojo’s credit, he really is doing his best, only a little less than a third but due to his length that's still a lot. 
Your eyes wander up to Gojo’s face and away from where he is wholly splitting you open, lest you clench on him even tighter and you knew you needed to relax. Even if you weren't really feeling much but the overwhelming strain from the tight fit, looking at Gojo you were happy that he appeared to be in bliss at least. 
His eyes still squeezed shut, mouth hanging open and spittle flowing down his jaw Gojo was in his own world as he continuously babbled nonsense about how perfect your cunt felt around him.
Just the tip in you for all of 20 seconds and already pussy drunk from just this much. 
“B-Bunny, Oh SHHIII–B-Bunny—m’cute Bun—FAH-ACK s’gud—m’gonna cum soon UHH–pussy feels s’good—oh-oh my god!” 
Although his entire body is quaking with pleasure, the few functional brain cells that survived the fiery blaze of your sinful lil’ pussy are still thinking of you. 
Gojo tries to give some attention to your neglected lil’ clit, but a single swipe causes your leg to jerk and you promptly push his hand away again.
“N-NO! Pleaseee, m’too sensitive Toru! J-Just focus on your thrusts! Y-You’re s’close, m’can feel your cock twitching i-i-inside me...”
Gojo wants to challenge you on this—suspecting from the way your cunt felt constricting around him you felt something pleasurable then—but he’s too far gone and much too inexperienced to keep focused on anything else. 
Especially when you are so explicitly describing him fucking you. 
Grabbing his face you bring your foreheads to touch to help calm him so he’d last a bit longer. Although you still hold his face to prevent him from kissing you, he's close enough that you're sharing the same breath, now looking into each other's eyes. 
He struggles to maintain eye contact though before the magnetism of your heated core had them rolling back again.
You're still not close to cumming, yet you are beginning to enjoy the warm comforting feeling of being this full as he holds you close, his short thrusts gaining momentum. 
Sharing intimacy with someone you actually cared about for once is really nice and you wouldn't mind having more sex like this even if you couldn't cum. 
Thumbing over Gojo’s moist lips you coo sweet praises to him as he desperately moans around your delicate appendage. Suckling your thumb between his lips and nursing on it until he can no longer contain the heavy breaths that overpower him and fan across your face. 
Sharing the same exhaled breath is making you light headed and you mewl at the keen sensations it stirs in your pussy that has him full on gasping now. Gojo releases the whiniest moan as he falls into you, unable to support his arms any longer. 
Showering your neck with open mouth kisses as his body curls more into yours.
However it all proves far too much when Gojo faltering more in his promise, slips more than halfway into your cunt—instantly filling the latex as it balloons inside of you as you scrape your heels against his back.
SHIIIIIT! He s’big! 
Despite nearly splitting your poor pussy into two at the end though, Gojo did such a good job for his first time. 
You’d forgive him just this once though as you wrapped your arms around his head, gently petting his undercut. His heaving breaths quiet under your soothing touches, finally ceasing the stream of his spit and tears that had been pooling in your collarbone.
Staying like that for a while holding him while his heartbeat calms to match yours and his length softens inside you. You close your eyes peacefully for a few moments before you hear your phone vibrate next to you. 
It's Shoko!
Shoko’s text apologizes for the delays and offers to get dinner instead—promising to go shopping with you and Utahime tomorrow since they got held up and you make plans for dinner in two hours. 
Perfect. That gives you plenty of time to clean up and get yourself presentable. 
“Did you cum even a lil bit, Bunny?”
Oh sweet baby, if you have to ask…You think to yourself but it's not poor Toru’s fault your pussy is out of order.
“Um, no Toru baby—but you did so well! Ya know you’re actually pretty cute and considerate when you get a little pussy. I’m sure you’ll manage to make any girl you happen to get naked happy!”
Gojo counters you with a disappointed look still panting slightly as he pulls out and rolls over bringing you towards him to cuddle. Allowing him, reasoning that you don’t have to get up right this second.
Yoour back meets his chest and it’s then you notice the condom still inside you. Figures since it was much too small in the first place. Yet you couldn’t complain as it managed to do its job due to Satoru not going all the way in. Breathing out you grimace a bit as you still had to give it a pretty good tug to lodge the filled latex out of your sore cunt. 
“Goddamn Toru, you were pretty backed up huh?”
Having witnessed the entire display from over your shoulder and the sight of the light blue rubber covered in your fluids while drooping heavily with his own has Gojo’s dick stirring again as you jiggle the rubber demonstrating its fullness before tossing it into the bin beside his bed. 
Conflicted Gojo broods for a while as he hugs you to him. 
While his body felt mostly satisfied, seeing you still unsatisfied put a huge damper on his mood. 
Sure you had told him you couldn’t come—but would any girl cum without much foreplay or stimulation? 
Even the darker hentais and JAVs he’s seen had more foreplay than this!
Hmmm... 
Thinking over the experience again in his mind he had a hunch that if right could cure your lack of orgasms but needed you to let him fuck you once more to be sure. 
“So you’re gonna hit and quit just like that, Bunny?”
He teases clinging onto you again when you try to maneuver out of his embrace.
“No time for more cuddles Toru—Shoko texted, we’re getting dinner in two hours.”
“Wait! Bunny! That’s so far away—Let me go again, pleeeease!”
Gojo is determined this time to make you cum for real! And, yeah you know—your slick heat sliding up and down his cock again would be a highlight too.
“Toru–”
“—Come on bunny! We solved my problem but we haven't fixed yours, you still haven't cum yet!”
“Toru, I thought we understood we were never going to solve my problem in the first place—so don't stress! Also I know this is probably the first time a girl has said this to you and actually meant it—but it's really not you!”
Gojo puts his negotiation face on. 
You wanted to play hardball? Bet.
“I’ll give you my black card for a whole week!”
Gojo turns you around to look him in the eye so you could see how sincere he was, he really wanted to try again—he knew he could make you cum this time!
You sighed. 
You couldn't really be mad at him—in fact, it was actually the cutest thing—that he wanted to keep trying for your benefit—but you didn’t see the point when it would just lead to the same result. You don’t even need to glance down to see Gojo’s cock was just as resolute as he’s already recovered and fully bricked—length pulsing against your ass. 
Well—given his last performance you were sure he’d last all of five minutes and if you had his black card for a whole week you were about to tear the entire Hermes store up—a Birkin and a Kelly in every color!
Hell, maybe you could even get the coveted baby pink ostrich one. 
“Mmm’kay, Toru—black card for a week! No limit!”
“Yup of course! Oooh no—Wait, no rubbers and I'll let you have my new g-wagon too! I hear raw sex is sooo much better you will cum for sure then Bunny!”
Well you knew a good bargain when you heard it.
Throwing the unopened condoms to the side you laid back down.
Imported European cars are stupid expensive to get in Japan and if he was coming off a g-wagon—especially as it was a custom powder blue matte with dune colored seats and shiny platinum rims—then he could have as many two-minute pump sessions as he wanted.
He’d likely pass out from dehydration in less than twenty tops anyway.
“Okay, but same rules as before except no cumming inside Toru! I mean it! It's too much of a mess to clean up after, it’ll be dripping all night especially all that you came last time…”
The thought of your gooey tender cunt weeping his nut for hours has Gojo’s balls tightening in want of making it a reality—but he knew if all went to plan you’d be begging for it! 
First—he needed you to take a more active role this time. He saw you settled back onto the pillows and that simply wouldn’t do. 
“Um Bunny, can you be on top? I-I’m dying to see what your cute tiddies look like jiggling all crazy like in my face.”
You cover your chest, frowning in offense at his more debauched ecchi preferences but you agreed nonetheless. 
Relenting as it’d likely have him cumming sooner and then you could finally get ready to meet the girls—all in your new g-wagon, although you’d definitely have to make up a lie as to how you scammed it out of Gojo.
Gojo takes your place on the pillows, amused as now it’s his turn to beckon you forward. Steeling yourself, you embarked on your climb to mount him. Tall and lean with wisps of hair sticking to his face Gojo looked more like he belonged in a painting, unnerving you that a face only an artist could sculpt admired your body with his lustful gaze. 
He was too sexy for his own nerdy ass good like this and you failed not to whimper when his strong hands settled at your waist.
Lube in your hand you smirk, gaining some confidence back when you hear Gojo hiss as the cool gel once again spreads down his fiendish girth that pulses restlessly at your touch. The sensation is all the more agonizing without the latex barrier hindering him as your, your silky smooth palm glided over his bare cock before tugging back the sensitive foreskin covering his crown head. 
Licking your lips you almost want to bend down and taste the pre marbling like a pearlescent jewel on his pretty exposed cockhead.
He’d probably cry like a baby if you did, you mused with a grin. 
Good God girl snap out of it! 
You chastise yourself—no, you had to focus and end this quickly before you lost your mind. The idea of fucking Gojo beyond what he could buy for you started to get more appealing and you couldn’t allow that.
Readying yourself to mount him this time you realize your pussy is quivering in anticipation of the stretch—it was uncomfortable last time so—why was your body reacting this way?
Your own pussy betraying you as she seemed to yearn for the opportunity to gobble him up, taking him in with less resistance in spite of you. Flexing around the thick intrusion inside your core you shiver in feeling the curve of every vein on his girthy cock as you lowered yourself onto him.
The way your pussy flexed as a jolt of electricity ran through you scared you—a new sensation bubbling up inside, threatening to make you lose yourself in the feeling.  Must be survival instincts you rationed—your cunt scared for its life never having encountered such an acute danger like Gojo’s dick before.
The burn was pleasurable this time, sucking in sharp breaths at every slight movement of him moving inside your core. Yet Gojo is in even more bliss—from the serpentine motion of your hips cascading over his own to how your your puffy pussy lips looked so wonderfully parted, stretched open around his cock—FUCK!
How was he going to complete his plan if his brain just started turning to mush everytime your dangerously succulent cunt grinded against him.
“O–ooo shiiiiiit!”
“Y-You okay, Bunny?”
Although Gojo himself looked like he was in agony his face was reddening from how good your raw gummy walls were surging around his length.
“Hhnng, fine Toru—y’er j-just big.” 
Gravity was your natural enemy in this scenario and you took him a bit past halfway this time.
Wanting to distract you, his large hands grope your tits but you knock him away—your stomach fluttering. 
“What's wrong, this time?”
“...s’n-nothing, it’s—just put your hands on my hips, it helps me so my legs don't get tired.”
You lied.
Well your legs were quivering but more pressingly your heart started to race and you didn't know if it was because a cock like this could actually relocate your uterus to your lungs or if you’d actually started catching something similar to romantic feelings for Gojo Satoru. 
Either one was unacceptable in your book.
“Hurry up and cum, Toru!” 
However Gojo is about to say something, your phone rings.
“I-Its Utahime…”
“Don’t answer Bunny! Focus or you’re never going to cum!”
“I can multitask, Toru! Besides, on the small chance I do I know it's definitely going to take longer than the two minutes you lasted before.” 
Hushing Gojo’s protests and eyes flaring at him to be silent, you answer the call. 
“Bunny!”
“Hime!”
You greeted each other with your usual peppiness—like Gojo wasn’t 6 and a half inches deep with 2 and half more to go—give or take—inside you.
“What’s up? Oh erm, what am I doing—”
A sly and haughty smile plays on his lips and you scowl at him.
“—I’m still at Gojo’s and no—I’m not doing much at all right now! Haha—yeah. I can definitely talk, of course!”
Gojo frowns as his eyes narrow and to placate him you start half heartedly rotating your hips.
You still looked sexy as hell though. Even with less effort expended it was still a workout as shown by the sheen of perspiration glowing off your body. That delectable sight combined with the light swaying of your tiddies was more than enough for him to cum if he just focused on himself.
But he was determined not to this time, not until you had.
“See Toru? They were helping Shoko’s parents!”
You stick out your tongue and he makes a face back at you.
“Oh what?—s’nothing—Ha! Well ok! He said you were too busy bumping pussies to go to the mall with me! Psh—typical am I rite? Huh—put you on speaker? LOL O-OKAY.”
Snitch! 
Gojo mouths to you offended you’d rat him out like this as Utahime’s voice shrills through the phone.
“Satoru you loser! You have to talk about our pussies cause you could never have one of your own in a million years!”
Snorting with laughter Gojo is more than amused. 
If only they knew.
You pale signaling at him to ‘STFU’ or he could finish himself off.
“Aww, is that so Utahime? I’m so hurt.” 
The mischief in Gojo’s voice is obvious—he’s clearly mocking you.
Annoyed with him getting the upper hand and feeling sassy, you pile on—
“Exactly Hime! I mean he might get some—but a total otaku like him wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if he even ever got in—EEP!”
A heavy handed smack comes down on your ass—hard. 
The force ripples its way into your cunt causing you to feverishly tighten as your tongue pushes a low moan out between your lips.
“Oh ho ho—what's this? You actually like getting spanked huh, Bunny? You dirty, dirty girl…” 
Gojo is whispering again before his hand once more swats at that same cheek.
The sting causes saliva to pool in the corners of your mouth. 
If looks could kill Gojo would have died a horrible death—that is if you could focus enough to even glare at him. You’re absolutely mortified—too consumed by the spanks that fiercely rained down on your reddening bottom, your pussy getting shamelessly wetter with every hit.
“AH–FAHHH—”
“Bunny! What’s happened?!”
You hear Shoko’s concerned voice this time.
“N-N-Nothing, G-Gojo’s being mean to me cause I told on him! H-He pinched me so hard Shoko!”
“Liar!”
Gojo mouths again and his demeanor turns absolutely devilish. 
Oh? So that's how you wanted to continue to play? 
You were such a brat sometimes but then again so was he and his competitive nature soared at the challenge.
“Oh did I? Like this, Bunny?”
Gojo’s  palms cup your tits roughly before he pinches them, twisting your nipples causing the slobber that collected to dribble down your chin and onto your chest.
“Shiiii—T-Toru! S-STOP YOU A-AHHH–SSHOLE!!”
The grip his thumb and forefingers have on your sensitive buds intensifies and you can barely keep the phone in your grasp as you hold it out arm extended to keep your cries from being heard. 
With only one hand free there’s no way for you to worm nor pry his hands from your tits as you are still struggling not to sink lower and choke on your own tongue from the electrifying sensations assaulting your cunt.
This couldn’t be what it was like could it? This overwhelming feeling?
You didn’t want to admit it but as tear-inducing as the sensations were—they felt real fucking good. 
Your hips began involuntary rocking as your core now craved how Gojo’s cock scraped against your walls like it was trying to carve itself even deeper inside you if you’d let your hips drop just a little bit lower. 
“Toru! Stop picking on our Bunny! Don’t make us come over there and kick your ass!”
The sweat that now runs down Gojo’s brow threatens to blur his vision but he’s locked in and focused. The phone situation being so fucking raunchy combined with the way your pussy is creaming on him (despite you trying your hardest not to feel good) has him stressed. 
Swallowing he had to try hard to keep up the act as well as please you without cumming—it would be a feat if he accomplished it to say the very least.
God, this was all so shamefully vulgar. 
Did you do this on purpose answering the phone? 
He didn’t even know this was a kink of his—or yours apparently.
But your “problem” was now clear to Gojo:
It’s not that you couldn’t cum, it’s just that you were scared to cum. 
Any real stimulation triggered your fight or flight. 
You were perfectly capable, you just needed a bit of forcefulness—however the effect of it terrified you and you bolted from it every time you had sex with someone—until now. 
Heh, there would be no more running from the nut for his little bunny rabbit.
Gojo wonders how far into his ecchi depravity he can take you.
“Your Bunny, huh?”
Gojo's eyes squinted as if he could stare down Shoko and Utahime through the phone.
You were his. 
He was the one who was going to make you cum and frankly he didn’t give a fuck anymore if Shoko or Utahime heard it—in fact he wanted them too.
Planting his feet into the bed, Gojo’s form shifts as he swiftly grips your waist simultaneously bringing you down while driving his pelvis up—pummeling his entire length into your guts. The prickly patch of groomed hair at his base tickles your poor abused lil’ clit which had been forcibly nestled into them—the result of being smashed against his pubic bone. 
“FUHCCCK—MUTHERFUHH—SHHHH–HIIIIIT!!!” 
Vision momentarily blacked out and burning with tears mixed with your running mascara, your pussy still reeling from the sheer magnitude of Gojos long girthly length now all the way sheathed and practically tearing through your womb. Your eyes are firmly lodged in the back of your head, the electrifying vibrations cause you to drop the phone entirely. Your world is spinning from experiencing your first small orgasm that only increased intensity as your efforts to escape Gojo are in vain. 
Your cervix is screaming at the probing intrusion of his bulbous tip ramming so far up into you but Gojo has you anchored to him unable to flee from his onslaught of thrusts.
If you could string together a coherent thought you would have wondered if in fact your stomach had been relocated next to your lungs as you felt so full you couldn’t breathe. 
Your pussy violently spasms around his girth, creamy fluids seeping down onto his base from your cunt sloshing around him.  Gojo grips your cheeks spreading you wider increasing the squelching noises echoing from your cunt.
Shit though, Gojo thinks your perfect pussy might actually break his dick off from how fervently you were clenching him. 
Tongue fully lolled out of your mouth, you’re grasping onto Gojo’s shoulders for stability as your saliva drips down his pectorals.
“BUNNY!! Are you still there?? What’s that noise?”
Shoko and Utahime’s calls for you go unanswered. Gojo on the other hand is grinning, albeit through gritted teeth, pleased at how his long trunk-like cock is rendering you nonverbal. 
“Hehe, you definitely came a bit that time didn’t ya—ya nasty lil’ Bunny, don’t lie.” 
“N-N-Nooo T-Toru–s’like I-I c-can’t breathe—”
“Heh, a’course you can baby Bun—that's what it feels like when you cum, even I know that.”
SMACK!
Another firm smack to your ass has your cunt quivering wildly.
You feel like the virgin in this situation now—and honestly—are you not? 
Did those other dicks really count? 
It felt like you were having sex for the first time as this was a totally different experience even from the earlier round with Gojo.
“Don’t worry though, now that I know what kinda shit you’re into—I’mma take care of that pervy lil’ princess pussy sooo good, Bunny.”
Oh god—That couldn’t be true could it? 
Spanking? Nipple twisting? Having your insides pushed up to your throat? 
You didn’t actually like this kinda freaky shit did you?
Yet your body’s reactions remain true even if your mind doesn't want to accept the cause of the fire that is burning within you. Your pussy is in raptures at the feeling of being molded into the exact shape of Gojo’s cock—veins and all.
“HELLLOOOOO BUNNY!!!!”
Absolutely pleased with himself Gojo retrieves the phone.
“Awe p-poor thing, just stubbed her toe runnin’ from me. My—SHIII–room is—FUHHH—k-kinda a m-mess—S-See? I almost tripped just now too. Isn’t that right Bunny?”
Gojo brings the phone closer and you bat it away wishing he would just hang up and spare you the humiliation. Although humiliation seemed to be your new kink as mirroring his earlier actions as you’re pathetically moaning into his skin. Gojo’s masculine scent, mingled with the salty aroma of perspiration, floods your senses, making you feel even more lightheaded, increasing the sloshing of his cock buried deep in your cunt.
The crude noises that rang from your bodies squelching and slapping against each other renders Gojo unable to keep up the charade either. Making up a quick excuse—he has to go get ice for your toe—he quickly hangs up on Shoko and Utahime whose puzzled protests of concern he couldn’t give a single fuck about anymore. 
God fucking you while on the phone with them was so fucking hot, he’d have to get you to do it again—maybe with Suguru next time, he’d probably even be into it.
“Hey B-Bunny—y-you think Shoko and Hime were naked too?”
You groan.
This fucking hentai otaku perv—you already told him that they were helping Shoko’s parents! 
You want to glare, scream, chastise, get up—but you can’t—you’re at the mercy of him ruthlessly drilling up into your cunt and can only heave out tired mewls in reply.
“Fuuuck–imma cum again soon! Do you feel the way your naughty lil’ cunt is squeezing like she wants to wring me dry, wan’t me to give it all to your pussy Bunny?”
“N-Not i-inside m’pussy, T-Toru!” 
A devious smirk appears. 
Heh, yeah he promised not inside your pussy.
Without warning Gojo rips his cock out from your sopping core and manhandles you onto your back. Thinking he will simply cum outside somewhere you're finally able to breathe again and you exhale—only to feel his monstrous length being shoved down your throat.
Your eyes shoot open. 
Greeted with the image of Gojo's heavy balls in your face, his ball hairs tickle your nose as you gag around his girth straining your throat open wide. You think if he didn’t reach your lungs through your guts he certainly would now that he’s eight and a half inches down your esophagus.
“You said i couldn’t cum in your pussy Bunny, so let’s use that pretty lil’ mouth pussy instead—sweet fuck, ya know she’s almost tighter than your actual cunt.”
Your hands fly to the outside of his thighs pawing over the sweat glossed skin as you drag your nails down them, leaving welts in an effort to get him to ease up. The potent musk of your shared lust that had dripped down his balls was now rubbing on your face assaulting your senses. 
It was fucking nasty, so gross and yet your own pussy betrayed you—burning with an ache to be filled again at the smells that stimulated your own primal hedonistic urges.
“Awe, don’t be like that. I know you like it rough, yeah? I haven’t forgotten about you either baby.”
Gojo of course at this point isn’t talking to you but your cunt.
With one hand squeezing your already constricted airway, Gojo’s other snaked its way over your body and reeling it back before delivering a mean open palmed slap to your clit. 
The sound of your soaked cunt echoed through his room and he almost came from that alone as your fluids trickled out of you faster, further soiling his expensive sheets.
“This pussy likes being spanked more than those cherry cheeks of yours huh, Bunny? I know my filthy hentai pussy does.”
You’re obviously unable to answer but the way you’re gurgling moans around his cock lets him know this is exactly what you like. Thrusting two thick fingers into your quivering core his burly appendages bullied themselves in as far as they could go. 
“You know—G-God, FUCK you’re tight—Bunny, you know I read in an h-manga how girls can squirt from a lack of air and a little bit of prodding, s’ppose—S-SHIII—t’be something in here that sends em absolutely wild.”
Fingers searching deeper it's not until Gojo pulls back to add a third that he scrapes past a firm spongy spot that has your legs buckling.
Astonished by the amazingly sexy reactions of your body—Gojo’s eyes are blown out wide over how much your clit swells, your hole twitches and your juices spurt out of you as your tears run over your cheeks to wet his balls further. Gojo doesn’t even need to thrust as your throat tightens around him like crazy with him jamming his fingers into that particular spot over and over.
Lost in your own ecstasy you’re proven wrong as contrary to your belief you thought his otaku sex-ed would be to his detriment to his skills. However it's exactly because of all of the lecherous and depraved shit he collected and consumed did he know exactly what to do to you now that got you all messed up. Eyes lodged into your skull, squirting and practically blacking out with his dick stuffed down your throat on his long dexterous fingers abusing your cunt.
��SHIIIIIIT—”
With a keen grunt Gojo cums, pumping loads of viscous fluid down your throat forcing you to gorge on his thick cum. 
“F-Fuck Bunny are you a throat goat? M-Milked me dry...”
He’s still driving his pliable fingers in and out of you, his arms are shaking from his own orgasm but he doesn’t care. Nothing on earth could stop him from replicating the beautiful sight of your pretty lil’pussy spurting out juices that run all the way down his forearm.
“…heh, looks like I can milk you too, Bunny.”
Gojo finally dislodges his dick out of your throat but still runs a hand through your pussy folds to rub soothing circles on your clit. You whimper through your coughs as you spit up some of his cum, still gagging after what were mere minutes but seemed like hours of choking on his beefy cock.
Vision spotty, tremors run through your body—both ends so thoroughly fucked out—that it doesn’t register that Gojo is once again lifting your body bringing you towards the edge of the bed.
If you thought Gojo was going to give you aftercare from having used your body like one of his anime fleshlights, you’d be correct—but not before one last round. 
Lifting your hips off his luxe bed Gojo positions your wobbly legs on his shoulders. His eyes are blown out and crazed with his own twisted perversion. Weakened and spent himself as cock twitched from overstimulation but he’s never been a quitter—determined to make you cum again and again before one of you finally passes out.
Your toes wiggle and you keen as his tongue ravenously dips between your toes. Trailing his tongue past the arch of your foot to bite your heel.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Bunny—the best pussy in the whole world, how could you ever think she was broken? You were just waiting for me to use her huh?”
“S-shut up–Toru, j-jeez…”
Your windpipes had been fucked raw and you’re croaking which to your dismay only seems to turn Gojo on more and he’s tapping his tender engorged cockehead on your clit. Your brows pinch together as you bite back moans from his frenulum catching and chafing so wonderfully over your clitoral hood.
“Puhleaseeee, Honey Bunny! Let me fuck you a bit more now that we know you are as ecchi coded as I am, m’kay my pervy princess?”
The very thought shames you and you think your heart might seize from embarrassment if it doesn’t give out from pleasure first and your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest chest from all the pet names Gojo is bestowing upon you. 
“Toru…”
You try to reason with him through your defeated huffs as you press your legs shut together.
“...y-you made me cum from your fingers n’ your cock.. Y-You won. Pleaseee—I-I don’t even think I can cum any more.” 
Not convinced Gojo pushes your legs back.
“Oh, is that right? Let’s ask her then!”
Gojo delivers another smack onto your slippery pussy as if on the command of her new owner your obedient cunt immediately leaks a bit more creamy slick onto his palm.
“See, baby? She says you can though and that she’s tired of you running from it Bunny—”
Still hugging your legs together in his grasp, Gojo lowers himself to rub his cheek against your pussy like it was his favorite pillow. 
“Don’t fret my pervy lil’ pussy I won't let Bunny deprive you any longer from what you really need.”
You groan yet Gojo is more gentle this time as he gingerly rolls you onto your belly and lifts your hips to slide his giant Agumon pillow underneath.
Urgh, did it have to be this one!?
There's no time for complaints though once Gojo spreads your cheeks wide. A glob of spit hits your crack as his thumb prods against your shy puckering rear hole while he humps his cock between the fat of your thighs through your soggy swollen folds. 
“Shiiit imma fuck this tight lil’ bunny hole next time baby, m’kay?”
The threat causes you to shudder yet all your back talk and sass is gone from his illicit preparations as he elicits heady mewls from your hoarse throat. Your cunt flutters eagerly to have him fill you again as his fingers imprint themselves into your bottom.
The anticipation is so intense as bracing for his size ripping through you you nearly fail to notice Gojo is now humming to himself—humming—THE DIGIMON CHAMPIONS THEME SONG!?
OH HE HAD YOU ALL THE WAY FUC—
—And suddenly you’re screaming again, eyes glued to the back of your skull as his hips jerk forward, drilling his dick past your walls to pound directly into your cervix with the tempo of a  madman.
OH FUCK! …s’good!
You finally surrender letting your cunt control your brain as you throw ass back to meet his frenzied thrusts. Like a drug addict from the first real taste your pussy is already addicted to the feeling of his cock destroying you.
“S’toru–S’toru–S’toru–FUHHHHCK!”
His name fell from your lips like a mantra, the only word your brain—now thoroughly fucked smoothed—could remember.
The sight of you chasing your own pleasure as your ass slammed back onto his pelvis, your skin rippling as it bounced and splashed frothy fluids onto his abs sent him further into perverse degeneracy. 
“F-Fuck Bunny—baby, this pussy too good—We can’t tell Suguru for a while, kay? He’ll want to fuck you too and this pussy is just f’me. Suguru gets all the pussy s’tell me you’ll keep yours f’er me. Thought you were broken but you just needed my cock this whole time—”
Burying your face in the sheets bashfully at the mention of Suguru, your cunt pulls more taut around Gojo’s cock.
“—FUHH, g-go out with me yeah, Bunny? Love you s’much—SHIIIIT—buy you whatever you want—t-take you where you want—this dick s’yours Bun Bun—all yours!”
Plunging into deeper if it were even possible Gojo’s blunted nails drug into the fat of your ass and hips, it wouldn’t scar but it would certainly add to the inevitable bruising. 
“I’ll never even look at a non 2D woman again as long as I have you as my lil’ onahole—shit I’ll never even buy one of those again unless it's in the shape of your pussy—F-FUCK, w-wait–y-you think we could get one made in the shape of your pussy–my girlfriend’s perfect pussy?!”
It’s too much—too overwhelming and your mind is slowly but surely being corrupted by Gojo. Otherwise the image of him whining while fucking a onahole casted from your cunt as he watches you finger yourself would have never in a million years popped into your mind. 
Determined to see you unhinged in every respect, Gojo didn’t want to deny you pleasure but if he had to be a little mean to you so you could finally be honest with him then so be it. 
Slowly pulling out, your expression is near frantic as you look back at him. Your mouth gaping and babbling nonsensically for him not for him to stop—you were so close.
Gojo simpers, relishing in your cute cockdrunk face scrunched with confusion from him pulling out so suddenly. 
“W-Words baby, c’mon I just spilled my heart out here!”
Your pussy weeps longingly for Gojo’s cock as your body shakes with a yearning begging to be filled again. 
God help you, you want him. 
You want him and his sinfully curved demon dick badly, it’s all you could think about—Not even remembering what life was like before he so perversely rearranged your guts.  However, not only did he know how to hit all your spots, he knew you—and despite him completely disregarding all of the rules you had initially set, he was the first guy who actually cared about how you felt during sex, even if he was a perverted otaku.
There was simply no use in denying it any longer. 
You caved.
Tears streaming down your face as you hiccupped your admission of affections for him, red-faced and flustered.
“S’toru, I-I’ll be your girlfriend—need you n’need your cock s’much—”
Pressing the side of your face against the mattress you bring a shaky hand through your legs, fingers slipping over your slick as you part your pussy lips—your vacant core exposed and fluttering, begging for him just as hard.
“—m’also you’re onahole T-Toru, I promise i’ll only fuck you, j-just please keep fucking me, i wanna cum on your cock, want your cum in me Toru baby!”
You might die from the shame of it all once you sober up from being utterly cockdrunk and stupefied but all you could think about right now was Gojo’s hard dick laying heavy pipe back into your cunt.
Something snaps in Gojo.
Head over heels for you now, Gojo knew from that moment on he’d never let you go. 
Real or 2D—no could compare to you in Gojo’s eyes. 
Toru finally found something he loved more than digimon—your perfect lil’pussy.
And he was going to show her how much he loved her right now.
Taking what was so graciously presented to him this time around, you’re short circuiting once he’s finally inside you again your most base needs being satiated turning you into a cockfiendish whore crying for him to fuck you harder as you grip his sheets like you could rip them apart. 
His strokes become more merciless, unrelenting on your pussy and Gojo leans his weight onto your back, legs bent crouching on top of you, his hips becoming manic they thrashed forward in short heavy thrusts to hammer you into the mattress.
Gojo himself is beyond gone. 
Disregarding all promises of mentioning otaku shit while he was wrecking your cunt.  
“Fuck bunny this feels better then what I thought Agnewomon’s pussy would be like— you'd look so sexy in that cosplay. Gonna have you dress up for me and show you off at cons. I’ll buy you whatever you want, anything, the whole fucking world yeah? Just fuck—wear those those vibrating panties while you cosplay too, you’d like that?”
You tightened groaning at his debauchery, something that was not missed at all by Gojo who by this point had fucked his own self dumb in your angelic cunt. White strands of his hair stuck to both of your faces as he tiled your head back so he could see how desperately those little hearts danced in your dilated pupils before they were reduced to nothing more than mere splotches whiting out your vision.
“Fuck u really are a slut huh bunny? Tightening at the thought of all those otaku perverts looking at you in that skimpy outfit while I control the buzzing on that lil clit. But they can’t have you—m’the only otaku pervert that knows how to make you cum!”
Delirious with melodic honeyed cries spilling from you, you just wanted him to stop talking—pointing out every single time your body responded to his ecchi tastes becoming your tastes and now just yearning for a taste of him. 
Reaching back you’re pulling him down to smash your lips together. Messy, but you could care as Gojo tried to swallow your tongue fucking his own into your mouth with a force that matched his cock. If fucking you was heaven then kissing you was nirvana—he’d give you the whole world if he could keep fucking you like this forever.
Gojo needs you to cum again soon as the feral need breed your tummy until it swells with his seed has him losing the little sanity he even had to begin with. A virgin until today he’d saved up so much waiting for your tight cunt this whole time. 
Moving his lips away from yours only for air, your chest heaves harmonies cries from his hand weaving under your bodies. Jittery fingers swiped frantically over your clit, hurling you towards your euphoric climax as his lips descend back upon yours.
“Cum Bunny—I got ya baby.”
Deliberately plowing himself harder against your cervix, your body seizes up releasing tension into pure white energy that you swore was pumping through your every vein as an extension of your pussy as his heavy load spurts to paint your walls and sear your insides as his thrusts continue to swill his seed inside you, pushing it further into your womb—-thank fuck for birth control.
However that was the last thing you remember before you go limp, temporarily blacked out as you swear you’ve transcended to a celestial plane of existence. One where all slutted out souls went to escape from the unearthly pleasure they’ve been tortured by. You don’t know how long you’ve been out but you're squirming as you come back to consciousness. Realizing your now back on your back as your hips involuntarily rocking against something thick and wet. 
When you finally manage to open your eyes you're greeted by Gojo tongue slurping at your clit and lapping up the cum oozing out of your battered hole like it was a refreshingly creamy bowl of kakigori. His hands embedded themselves into your thighs pinning them to the bed nibbling on your clit and having your already overstimulated core climaxing on his tongue once more.
Strings of your sticky nectar connect his tongue to your cunt as he looks up at you. Having the audacity to grin lovingly at you as if he didn’t look like a downright starved and deranged man with a sheen of shared fluids dribbling down his chin. He’s pussy drunk once again this time buzzed off the pungent yet sweet taste of his cum marinating in your creamy tenderized cunt.  
Gojo is cheesin’ at you like he’s found his favorite spot in the world—and he had as far as he was concerned.
“You said it was too messy, remember Bunny? The least I can do to make it up to you is scoop every drop out of your runny lil’ cunt with my tongue! What kind of boyfriend would I be to have all this cum soaking my Bunny’s slutty little thong and spilling down her thighs while out to dinner—so I decided to have mine a little early.”
FUCKING HELL—DINNER! What time was it?! 
Disordented, your head is fuzzy and you could feel the soreness settling in your muscles. You didn’t think you’d be able to get out of this bed in the next 24 hours, let alone make it to dinner—if you hadn’t already missed it! 
“Nnnn, n-not like I can go anymore Toru, s’all your f-fault!”
Your bruised lips poke out into pout. Gojo chuckles at you how cute you look and he rises up from between your thick thighs to boop you on the nose as he gazes adoringly at you.
“I know princess m’sorry—I already texted Shoko saying you couldn’t, don’t worry~~”
But your eyes widened as you were now fully worried. 
Worried as to what the fuck Gojo actually texted them! 
“T-Toru—”
“—I just told them you weren’t feeling well, was that okay?”
Quickly assuaging your fears—you can relax a bit for now (although you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do later) as Gojo pulls you to him again and softly kisses your neck, hands returning to your ass to rub soothing circles on your chaffed skin. 
Relaxing again floods sleep into your eyes. A welcome godsend honestly, so you can process everything that just happened, especially Gojo aggressively fucking a love confession out of you. 
“And m’sorry if I got carried away Bun… but you were so good for me, so fucking perfect! Just relax and I’ll take care of you! I’ll handle everything—for you and your nasty lil’ cunt. I love you both and I’ll keep both my pretty girls happy forever! I promise!”
Gazing at you with cartoonishly sparkling eyes, you have to look away from Gojo lest your ears altogether burn up in embarrassment from his shameless and yet a hundred percent earnest vocalization of affections that somehow still got your heart racing.
“—oh and my parents will be here tomorrow—we can tell them right? They will be so excited! They've been telling me since I was little I shouldn’t let you get away! Ooo! Ooo! Maybe now that we're dating they’ll let us use their sex dungeon! We need to think of a safe word though Bunny—”
Scarcely comprehending anything he is saying to you, your mind like your pussy had been fully liquified. Both ruthlessly corrupted by Gojo’s long otaku cock and pervy ass fantasies which is no surprise seeing as his family even owns a—
HOL’ THE ENTIRE FUCKUP—A SEX DUNGEON!?
Like a shot of caffeine directly into your veins your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you blink at him dumbfounded, mouth hanging open.  
“Doesn’t that sound fun, Bunny!? My parents are so cool! When I turned 18 my dad even gave me some of his rare and one-of-a-king hentai figures for my collection to get me started and then—”
Tuning him out you’re gagged at the unexpected revelations—and his parents always seemed like such charming n’ decent God fearing people too. Well known to be ruthless in the business world, but upstanding global philanthropists nonetheless.
Well the apple sure as hell didn’t fall too far from the sordid sex fiend tree, that was for damn sure!
Clearly you had no idea what you were getting yourself into or had unleashed by agreeing to be Gojo’s girlfriend. I mean, could no longer deny your growing feelings for him—plus he did just give you multiple back-breaking-terrifyingly-mind-numbing-earth-shattering-orgasms. Not to mention, you would definitely be getting one of every Hermes bag ever made if you wanted one—but at what cost?
Your Dignity? 
Self-respect? 
The right to call yourself a functional and contributing non-degenerate member of society?
Who knows really…
Although perhaps dating a Gojo, the next heir at that, you’d be too rich and highly regarded for people to even care (we’ll except for your friends giving y’all hell but you could eventually make peace with that).
You internally groan as the gentle touches on your bottom morph into lustful gropes and you know your brand new boyfriend would not be granting rest for your totally demolished lil’ pussy anytime soon unless you could distract him a bit.
“—Toru, Toru baby listen, please.”
Interrupting him, you muster the energy to put on the sweetest face you can manage in your exhausted state. 
And of course, Gojo, as always and yet unknowingly, tests the limits of your tolerance.
“Yes, my whittle Bunny, my kinky baby girl—hentai goddess divine?”
Gojo nuzzles your nose in an eskimo kiss as he showers you with ‘loving compliments’. 
Scrunching your face, you grit your teeth through your already weak smile to stop yourself from losing it at him referring to you as ‘hentai goddess divine’—y’all would definitely be having a talk about that as well as appropriate in-public pet names later though.
“Babyyyyy—I’m so sticky and sore, why don’t you be a good boyfriend and get stuff ready for us to take a bath, hm? Maybe find me something else to wear too, hm?”
You did need a bath and you calculated even with his energetic disposition it should take him at least 15-20 minutes to delegate the tasks and get everything together considering how huge his mansion was.
“Oh! Of course, of course! Just wait here! I’ll be right back, my ecchi angel.”
Brow-twitching you sit up to wave at him with another strained smile as he scrambles to put on pants and heads out of his room.
You sigh tiredly and make yourself comfy on his cloud like pillows. 
Thinking he’s finally left and you can savor some much needed time to make peace with what you got yourself into by agreeing to be the girlfriend of an otaku nerd like Gojo Satoru—
—when his head suddenly peaks back in the room with a sheepish look on his face.
“Heh, you know Bunny, was thinking—you really didn’t think I could code crack your cute lil’ cunt now did ya?”
Your eyes are closed but your fists are balling angrily gripping onto the pillows surrounding you.
“Don’t worry Bunny, yours is the only pussy my dick is digidestined for!”
With that, Gojo narrowly avoids the Agumon pillow plushie that is swiftly hurled at his head as he dashes away from the door, his merry yet hysterical laughter echoing through the halls.
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
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⏭ a/n: this fic was wayyyy too long but i've been kinda mean to y'all gojo glazers lately rejoicing in your sorrows cause you are now miserable like the rest of us lmfao, so consider this y'alls bone :P tbh im kinda surprised this is the first full gojo fic i've written lol, it was fun tho cause otaku!gojo is a freak for pussy would drive you insane in all the right and wrong ways. i still have invisible man gojo and ceo/professor gojo planned tho (plus that frat boy satosugu request).
eta: serieslist
reblogs and comments are my life's blood ty ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ
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celestie0 · 4 months ago
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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]
title. around the clock
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Hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision.
ᰔ pairing. babysitter/boxing au - underground boxer & babysitter!gojo x college student!reader (f)
ᰔ summary. when underground boxer gojo satoru becomes a little strapped for cash, he gets a day job as a babysitter for a five-year-old kid named yuuji who most definitely has adhd (but that’s besides the point). the kid’s mom gave gojo two rules, and two rules only: don’t accidentally kill my son, and do not flirt with my daughter. he’s pretty sure he’s got a good hold on the former, but he’s got no self control over the latter.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, smut, casual sex, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of crack, slight age gap (reader’s 22 & gojo’s 27), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, gojo is a sleazebag that cares?, sort of porn-coded smut except there’s a lil bit of lore so it’s kinda porn w plot, uhh having sex with risk of getting caught, gojo beats people up at night & then plays father figure to a 5 y/o during the day, mentions of violence/alcohol/drugs/blood/cigarettes
ᰔ word count. 12.6k
a/n. hiiii friends jeez it feels like FOREVER since i've posted some good ol' smut (still has plot tho xd)...hopefully you enjoy n see ya at the bottom! lmk if i missed any warnings! if you asked to be tagged but didn’t get tagged it’s bc you have your tags off aaa :( even when some ppl tried to fix it i still couldn’t tag them i’m sorry!!
alsoooooo so very much love to @starmapz for beta reading this for me :”) really helped me w my posting nerves haha. she is also a wonderful jjk author pls go check out her works!! 💕 ART CREDITS: @/3-aem
➸ masterlist
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2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): heyy um i’m sorry if this comes off kinda rude i just am kinda bad with this but i was wondering if you could text my mom for questions about yuuji’s care instead of me?
2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Oh 2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Yeah, sure
2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sorry i know my mom doesn’t know much ab how to take care of him bc i was the one that took care of him for a while but i just really want to separate myself from that guardian role now that i’ve transferred to NYU yknow? :/ i think it’s not my place anymore. i just wanna be big sis now haha
2:46pm Gojo Satoru: I get it. Sorry if I was making you uncomfortable with my texts
2:48pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): no no not uncomfy by it, thanks for looking after him. it’s just i’m kind of busy n stuff so it can be distracting 
2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it
2:52pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): and it was kind of an issue with his last babysitter
2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?
2:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeahhh like he would keep textinf me n stuff uhh kinda weird things… i told my mom about it and she was super pissed so she fired him
2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?
2:56pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah he was always “accidentally sexting me” n like he sent me a dick pic once sooooo yeah
2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Who tf 2:56pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll go beat him up
2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): oh no no its fine lol 2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): please dont beat anyone up 2:58pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i’m not saying you’re like him tho i just think maybe less texting unless its an emergency okay?
3:00pm Gojo Satoru: Are you sure because I will totally go beat him up for you
3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO I DONT WANT YOU TO BEAT ANYONE UP FOR ME 3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): also no offense but you dont look like you could beat someone up
3:01pm Gojo Satoru: WHAT 3:02pm Gojo Satoru: Tf you mean “no offense” that’s literally the most offensive thing you could say to a guy
3:04pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeaa i mean you have muscles ofc but in the ‘ohhh i wanna look good for instagram’ way and not like real man muscles yknow
3:06pm Gojo Satoru: Ok princess next time you visit home and go on one of your stupidly large grocery hauls I’ll make sure you carry all those groceries in by yourself 
3:06pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): I WAS JUST JOKING 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): YOURE SO STRONG TY FOR ALWAYS CARRYING THE GROCERIES INSIDE 3:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): PLEASE KEEP CARRYING MY GROCERIES INSIDE
3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Nah 3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Should we be texting right now? I’m not sensing any emergencies here
3:11pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): pls. my groceries :(
3:16pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll let the kiddo know you say hi 👋🏼 
The irony of it all was that, if Gojo really wanted to, he absolutely could beat the shit out of someone. And he has, hundreds of times, pseudo professionally. Although that isn’t something he’d admit to you, out of fear that you might relay that info back to your mom who would then become mortified that she’s entrusted her five-year-old son’s life to the hands of an underground boxer. 
But he needed the money. A night-time job didn’t really make daytime money, not when they could easily replace him with the next dude the second he gets knocked out of the ring more than twice, let alone if he let it happen once. And although he sometimes made large sums, it wasn’t stable income. He needed a back-up plan, and so babysitting it was. 
The babysitter working nights at unsanctioned dojos and gyms located in the back of cartel blocks, knocking teeth out of men twice his size, would put any decent mother into a coma or induce some episode of syncope, hence why it wasn’t something he put on his resume before he got hired. Not that he even needed to provide a resume; your mom seemed desperate to cover the position as fast as possible, that promotion at work was moving faster than she wanted to, and Gojo’s beneficial attribute that he possessed as a candidate to look after her son, compared to all the other potential hires, was that he had a penis.
He likes the kid. Yuuji. He’s got kind of a short attention span, and makes Gojo weary of his age. Hold up, that makes him sound like he’s geriatric, he’s really only the ripe old age of twenty-seven, but the immortality and infinite stamina that a five-year-old boy has on him is enough to have him huffing and puffing at the end of every single evening shift he takes on with the rascal. 
Fighting is all sprint, and no stamina. Sure, there might be some more seasoned boxers that might disagree with him, but for someone as young as him in the field, it’s the tactic he’s been forced to gain. If he draws a fight on for too long, he'll get killed by a forty-two year old man with steroids clogging up his adipose tissue and enough  testosterone to grow a full-body beard by the time the sun starts to set. No, his strategy is to knock them out within the first fifteen seconds. Use their weight against them, and whatnot. A tactic he’s found has worked, since he’s been undefeated thus far. 
He can never wrap his head around it. The drug lords that run the rings who’ve gained millions the night before from selling crystal meth only to lose it all the night following in the second Gojo hooklines a solid punch to their betting boxer’s chin, making them see God & their Momma before they tap out (if they’re even able).
He doesn’t pocket much money from it, not anything compared to what the men who bet on him end up making at least, but it’s a decently solid sum. How lucrative it really is depends solely on what he thinks the value of his life is.
It’s not unheard of, boxers dying in the ring. Turns out, rich drug dealers care very little about the sheep they’ve captured to perform their entertaining little stunts. But Gojo wasn’t doing all of this to feel some sense of work-life pride, no, it was just sustenance. When basic needs are not met, humans resort to the most animalistic of all behaviors, and while he’s not proud of what he does, he can’t deny the fact that it’s turned him into an adrenaline junkie that gets a rush in his veins every time he knocks a jaw loose.
But balance was key. And hence why he’s a boxer by night, babysitter by day. For at least four days a week, he gets to pretend he’s the king’s most trusted appointed knight, or he’s the radioactive tyrannosaurus rex that wants to tyrannize all the other dinosaurs, or maybe he’s the evil power ranger (he always forgets which color that one was) that is determined to make the world a living hell by smashing mr. potatohead against the bunk bed post a billion times for all the other toys to see. Or whatever other imaginative hyperfixations Yuuji imposes on him in the later afternoon once he’s had his bowl of spaghetti-O’s and is ready to play. Lately, the kid’s been really into space. They’ve got all sorts of space toys these days. Back in Gojo’s day, he just had a good ol’ Buzz Lightyear.
“One rule, that’s it: don’t accidentally kill my son. Actually, one more rule. Don’t flirt with my daughter.” 
There’s a part of Gojo that believes your mom kind of knows he’s up to shady shit at night, otherwise why else would she clause for him to not flirt with you if she didn’t read the slight swell to his eye and the healing gash across his cheek as anything other than this boy is trouble and I want him nowhere near my too-good-for-him daughter of reproductive capacity since that’s the exact tale of how I became a single mother in the first place. Or maybe he inherently looks like he’s up to no good? He’s not sure which angle is more offensive, and which one was more flattering. Well in any case, she entrusted Yuuji’s life to him, despite acknowledging the plausibility of harm, and that means she overall thinks positively of him, right? ……right?
The first night he met you, it was awkward to say the least. Gojo spends most of his nights performing deadly stunts for middle aged men with potbellies, and most of his days hanging out with a five-year-old (one who he’d argue is his only friend at this point). Sure, he’s got some people he sees occasionally back in his high school hometown when he can brave hearing about how everyone’s in college now or doing a masters or they’re working respectable nine-to-five day jobs meanwhile he has to lie to his Pops that he’s been working in insurance for the past two years. Listen, in fairness, he probably makes the same amount of money as an insurance broker would anyways, but he can’t exactly own up to the identity of his craft. 
Anyways, the point is, he’s not used to seeing other people his age anymore. There’s the occasional hook-up with girls he hasn’t seen since Mrs. Tracy’s homeroom period back in sweet two-thousand-sixteen, or his twice-a-year hangout with Suguru where he only learns the day of where he's visiting from since the guy moves around more than Gojo can keep up with. But save for that, he mostly just sees your mom and then Yuuji. 
So seeing you standing in the kitchen for the first time when he went to put Yuuji’s half-finished GoGurt back in the fridge was startling to say the least. When the sight of a woman startled him, he knew he needed to start getting out again.
You were on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab at something over the fridge, and wearing these ridiculously short shorts to where he could see the curve of your ass, his line of sight trailing down the skin of your bare legs. He couldn’t see anything of your form above your shorts, given you were wearing an extremely baggy t-shirt with NYU on it in big bolded university letters. As far as he knew, you were a senior at NYU, studying psychology, made dean’s list consecutively for the past three years given the way your mother posted all your stellar transcripts up on the fridge (he gets that she’s proud of her daughter, but doesn’t that kind of stuff usually end in grade school?) But other than that, it was all the information he had on you.
“Here,” he said, pressing his front to your back, maybe just to get a feel, as he reached over to you to finally grab the box of cereal you were swatting for, the one that he purposefully placed at the back because Yuuji learned how to climb counters recently. “Is this what you want?”
He had heard you gasp, spinning around on your heel fast, staring up at him with wide eyes like you weren’t expecting some random man to be in the house right now, and your first instinct ended up being to grab the knife out of the kitchen knife block and lunge it straight at his torso.
If it wasn’t for his boxer reflexes, he’d have ended up at the ER that evening. Or dead. All depending on the strength you could pack into a stab. But instead, he deflected it, though not without a gash to his torso through the fabric of his shirt, one that you spent the rest of the evening profusely apologizing for and eventually mending to with cotton balls and neosporin. 
“I didn’t know you were my little brother’s babysitter,” you mumbled with a small wince on your face as you dabbed ointment on the wound while he pulled the hem of his shirt up to his shoulder. He’s never had an injury tended to before. It was nice.
“It’s fine, I get it, totally acceptable response to seeing a random dude in your house.”
He remembers the curl of your eyelashes while you stared down at his bare upper half, something he imprinted on his memory rather than the concern in your face as your fingertips traced the scars across his chest. He hoped they made you feel better about the one you just slashed into him, because after all, what was one more? 
He knows he shouldn’t have, but he kissed you that night. Two minutes before your mom came home, and right after you bid him goodnight with one more apology, he backed you up against the door of your bedroom, his hands on your hips pulling you towards him, and his lips pressed against yours. Something seamless, from candid conversation that was heading towards an end, to full fledged making out against white-painted wood, his teeth nipping at your lip and he wondered just how touch-starved those university boys were leaving you given the desperate way you’d clinged to his shirt for dear life as he deepened the kiss.
The moment only lasted one minute and fifty-seven seconds, and in the remaining three, your mother’s key pushed into the front door and he had to pull away. Always, on the dot, 10PM, she was home. It was how he knew he had two minutes left to make a move in the first place.
So much for no flirting.
6:57pm Gojo Satoru: Bahahah I accidentally forgot where yuuji’s epipen is 6:58pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 6:59pm Gojo Satoru: Turns out this can-o-soup was just covering it in the cabinet
7:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): ??? why did you need to find his epipen
7:08pm Gojo Satoru: Oh he accidentally took a bite of my pad thai 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: I freaked cuz I thought it had peanuts in it but I remember I asked for it without any  7:09pm Gojo Satoru: shit’s crazy
7:10pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY THE FUCK DIDNT YOU TEXT ME????????
7:12pm Gojo Satoru: YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT ME TEXTING YOU UNLESS IT WAS AN EMERGENCY ?
7:13pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): SATORU YOU THOGHT HE ATE SOMETHING W PEANUTS IN IT AND YOU FORGOT WHERE HIS EPIPEN WAS THATSS A FUCKIGN EMERGENCY
7:15pm Gojo Satoru: THE KID IS DOING FINE HES ALIVE JESUS LEAVE ME ALONE 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: See. he’s chill 7:17pm Gojo Satoru: with intact airways might I add 7:18pm Gojo Satoru: Also isn’t he a little too old to still be watching baby sensory videos?
7:20pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah my mom thinks he has adhd :(
7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh
He tried to keep his word though (although he doesn’t recall ever giving it) out of the respect he had for your mom. She was a hard-working lady, single mom of two who went from working three jobs to now being a major administrator at a big law firm near the outskirts of town. It was an underdog story if he’d ever heard one, and he loved an underdog story. 
But a little texting here and there wouldn’t hurt, right? Or so he thought, until you told him to cut it out with the contact. Maybe you were just trying to be the good one in this situation. After all, hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision. Still, he’ll eventually get your replies to his which shirt should Yuuji wear to the park? and look, the toothfairy gave him the butt of a joint and a couple thumbtacks for his front tooth. he’s ecstatic texts, although in a less timely manner than before when you weren’t trying to preserve propriety. And when you’d occasionally visit every other weekend, he’d do his best to keep his hands in his pockets, and you’d fill up your nights with hangouts with your hometown friends to avoid spending too much time with him at the house. A silent agreement to not fuck each other, it was. 
4:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): send pic of yuuji pls i miss him :(
5:04pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo]
5:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): IS THAT BLOOD?!?!?!?!
5:09pm Gojo Satoru: chillllllll it’s fake. We’re working on his halloween costume
5:09pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY DOES IT HAVE BLOOD?!?!?!?!?!?
5:10pm Gojo Satoru: He wants to be a baby xenomorph and I'm his parasitic host. You know that iconic chestburster scene from the old school alien movies? yeah
5:12pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): satoru please for the love of god just dress him up as a dinosaur or something
5:13pm Gojo Satoru: I’m not the one that came up with the idea, okay? It was him
5:14pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): because you let him watch adult swim with you before putting him to bed. you’ve deranged his brain.
5:14pm Gojo Satoru: He needs it. Builds character.
Gojo was living a double life, and if someone asked him, he’d say it was less of a Clark Kent way and more of a Bruce Wayne way, although in reality, he knows it’s close to neither. He’s no superhero with a concealed identity fighting crime, he’s a con artist that’s tricked a hard-working woman into hiring him just because he’s trying to save up enough money to get the fuck out of this godforsaken town, given he’s not knocked dead before then for the crime’s amusement.
But Yuuji looks up to him now. And Gojo’s grown attached to him too. He taught the kid how to tie his own shoes and piss inside the actual toilet like a real man. And that kid’s the only thing that’s made him question any of this. Maybe that’s what dads feel, suddenly held to all this impossible responsibility and the pressure to stop doing stupid shit so that you’ll stick around to see your kids get older. The thought that there are eyes on you now, eyes that are innocent and hopeful and learning, and because they know nothing at all, you feel the responsibility to protect them from everything. For fucks sake, remind him to never become a dad. 
“Do you like my sister?” Yuuji had asked him out of nowhere one afternoon after he just got home from preschool, stacking a blue cube over a yellow one at the dining table.
“Uhh,” Gojo starts. He wondered if your mom had put a wire on the kid, so his answer was as diplomatic as he could manage. “Yeah, she’s cool. You’ve got a cool sister.”
“But. But.” Yuuji stutters, trying to find his big boy words. He stretches up higher to reach the top of his stack of blocks, but he only has so much arm real estate at the age of five. “Do you like her like you wanna kiss her?”
Gojo grabs the block from the kid’s hand, for a moment questioning Yuuji’s decision to want to put a blue block over another blue block, but he figures aesthetics are the least of a kid’s concern, and so he places the block where Yuuji wanted it. 
Why does the kid know what kissing is anyway? Do kids know that kind of stuff at that age? Isn’t a kiss to a five-year-old just something their mom gives to them before they head off to preschool for the day? And not something that happens between adult men and women? Maybe he should stop watching that adult swim in front of him.
“No. I don’t want to kiss your sister,” he says, again, because he is suspicious of a wire. It was a lie and then some, because he wants to do a lot more than just kiss you.
Gojo lifts the RedBull he was nursing up to his lips and watches Yuuji in the corner of his eye as the kid stares at his growing stack of blocks with a concentrated expression on his face, his chubby fingers squeezing tightly into little round dimpled balls, like he’s putting together all his tiny brain cells together to form another coherent thought before turning to face Gojo on the chair.
“It’s ok. You can kiss her if you wan’ed to. You can marry her too,” Yuuji says.
Gojo almost spits out his RedBull. He barely manages to swallow it, a broken cough immediately leaving his throat when some of the liquid goes down the wrong pipe and he’s smacking a fist against his chest to knock the sanity back into himself.
“Where the fu—…where the flip did that come from?” he asks, blinking back tears from the rasp in his throat.
Yuuji’s small shoulders sulk as he sits back on his heels. “I want a papa.”
Oh fuck that hurt. Jesus christ, there was nothing more sad than that. Yuuji has literally never known what it’s like to have a dad, since his had left before he was even born. Gojo’s not really close to his old man by any means, but he had still been a fatherly figure in some pivotal moments when he had needed it growing up. Kids need their dads. And he’s seen enough people lose their way without one to know that the value of them is really underestimated.
He’s also kind of shocked that Yuuji really did think of you as his motherly figure. Maybe since it had always just been him and his dad, Gojo learned how to self sustain from a young age, and he and his dad became accustomed to just looking after their own interests to avoid the headache of tending to one another. My land is my land, and your land is yours, and there was the occasional Saturday night spent together with his dad’s millions of beer bottles emptied dry on the carpet in front of the 1992 box TV as the two shared a greasy pizza from the place down the street. That was the extent of family solidarity that he knew.
But he can’t imagine being barely eighteen and having to take care of your little brother all by yourself because your mom was too busy trying to put food on the table and was too poor to hire a babysitter. Your mom tried so damn hard to keep you away from the single teenage mother life, but somehow ended up giving it to you by proxy in the end anyway. It was no wonder you wanted space now that Yuuji’s a little older and your mom can afford a babysitter. No matter how much you might love your sibling, being their effective guardian out of pure necessity had to have taken a toll.
Gojo clears his throat before he speaks. “Buddy. If I married your sister, we’d be brothers. I wouldn’t be your dad.” 
Yuuji’s eyes light up at the word brother. “Brothers? Me and you?”
“Yeah. Bros.”
The kid giggles, all bubbly with cheeks rounding fully and eyes sparkling. Gojo reaches out to ruffle at his hair before Yuuji gets down onto one stubby leg at a time from the chair then bolts towards the kitchen.
“Juice!!” he yells somewhere around the corner out of sight.
Gojo sighs, staring at all the toys he pulled out for Yuuji to play with, all left in a scattered mess across the table. He gets up out of his chair and heads towards the fridge. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your juice, you little demon.”
The conclusion he comes to, and it might read like an obvious one, is that kids don’t really know the reality of life, hence why adults hide so much from them. 
This is what he thinks of tonight when he wraps his worn out boxing tape around his hands and his wrist, tightening it with his teeth, and he can smell the sweat and grime from them. The back of the underground gym had an old dated locker room, and as Gojo stretches his neck side to side while sitting on the stiff metal bench, he eyes the peeling red paint of the locker in front of him, blurring vision making it look like spilt blood. 
His phone pings with a text. He shuffles inside his duffle bag to look for it while his other hand scratches at his bare chest.
1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): hhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): omgomgomg sor y i’m 
He blinks at the screen, confusion flashing across his face. He types one letter, but then he sees three dots and a speech text bubble in the bottom left, so he waits for you.
1:09am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i drunk :(
The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. 
1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell
1:10am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): at a apartyyyy
His eyebrows raise slightly, the thought of you tipsy on some frat party couch flashing through his mind, yet of all things you could be doing at that frat party, you’re texting him? Must be a really boring party.
1:11am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): whyyy are you aawake?
1:12am Gojo Satoru: Couldn’t sleep 1:12am Gojo Satoru: Don’t you have a midterm in the morning?
1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): wtf hwo do you knwo that
1:15am Gojo Satoru: Your mom keeps your schedule posted on the fridge
1:15am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): im so fucked;’;(((
He snorts. He’s got a bit more life experience than you, five-ish years to be exact, more than enough time to master the no-hangover hangout, but just before he can offer you some advice, he sees another text from you. 
1:16am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): can i tell u smething 
His gaze flits up to the ceiling briefly, and he hears commotion outside the thick walls of the locker room. The previous fight was over, and fast. The guy must’ve been knocked out in under twenty seconds tops, which means that Gojo was next up against whatever superbeast just beat him up. 
1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure
He stands up, placing his phone down on the bench before he flexes the muscles in his arms a couple times to get the blood flowing into them. And there’s the noise of another ping. Actually, four.
1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sonetimes 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i thikn of  1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): when u kisse me 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): *kissed me
His eyes widen slightly, irises dry to the ashy cigarette smoke from outside lingering in the air, and his heart rate picks up a bit. An adrenaline junkie with close to no fear in his veins due to the way his amygdala’s been fried to a crisp from years of boxing, yet he’s got his breath hitched from the memory of your soft lips against his. It makes the blood rushing through the muscles of his arms rush somewhere down south instead.
Loud banging on the door of the locker room jolts him out of his trance, and he’s stiff around the edges once more.
“Satoru! You’re up, man,” he hears Danny, the fight coordinator, yell at him from the other side of the heavy & poorly-installed steel door.
Gojo sighs, glancing down at the texts on his phone. To respond, or not to respond. You’re off your face, clearly chatty from the alcohol, and he knows for certain you’ll regret every life decision you’ve ever made once you wake up in the morning and see the self sabotaging behaviors you’ve engaged in tonight. He knows that responding to you might put you at ease rather than straight up ignoring you, but the feeling will pass, and he has a match to win with no more room left to stall.
He makes his way out the locker room, pushing past the crowded halls of people underneath dim flashing club lighting, some dudes angrily jerking to face him when he pushes past them with a stiff shoulder, only for their eyes to widen when they see just exactly who pushed them. 
There’s strippers in the ring, doing some routine for pre-match, and Gojo narrows his eyes at the man he sees laying back over the rubber boundary rope, head tipped back up to the ceiling with a wicked grin on his face. So that was his opponent? He’s never seen the guy before. Was he from a different district? Different district talent was tough, you had no background info on them, while they’ve been preparing to be here for weeks. Hence why boxers tend to do better when they visit a different district than they do in their own. There have been rules made to limit these types of fights, mostly over outrage that it was unfair to bid on them, but they were also usually more entertaining to watch. Gojo’s got a sick feeling to his stomach as the strippers clear the ring.
“Hey,” Gojo calls out, grabbing Danny by the back of his collar and dragging him towards him and away from the girls stepping down onto the floor, “what’s in for this fight?”
Danny glances up at the ceiling. “Tarp’s bettin’ tonight, so it can’t be anything less than ten grand for you. I’d say tops fifteen?”
Gojo narrows his eyes further, then glances off into the ring again. The man stands up, and Gojo gets a better look on his face. He’s got short hair, neon green in color with a dark fade underneath and tattoos all over his face. But those eyes. They were freakishingly red, and it made him uneasy. He knows the type. The type of boxers that do this to genuinely hurt people for thrill. Make no mistake, Gojo understands he’s made himself out to be like that too, gaining some kind of rush out of this profession, but this type of fighter was different. The type to literally continue smashing a dude’s face into the floor until they’re a bloody mess even minutes after the winning call, and no referee to stop it because that’s the kind of action the spectators wanted.
Danny reads his line of sight. “That’s Gale. Newton’s new boxing toy. Came outta nowhere about a month ago. He’s undefeated so far in his district, and Newton specifically wanted to see you up against him tonight,” Danny tells Gojo, resting his elbow up on his bare shoulder. “Chances are he’ll compete with Tarp for final bid if you win this one. I’m talking twenty-five grand in the next if you can knock him out in this.”
“Uh-huh,” Gojo acknowledges, rolling his shoulder so Danny’s elbow falls from it. Forget the money, he just wants to make it out of this alive.
He sets his foot up on the square, ducking through the dividing boundary straps and the tacky caution construction tape that the gym thinks creates an exciting ambience. He hears the static of the speakers as the announcers call out Gojo’s name, then this other guy, loud bass club music booming through Gojo’s chest as he tries to take a few deep breaths through the thick air of this low-ceiling arena. 
The dim overhead lights flickered, casting shadows over the makeshift ring, and the crowd pressed tight around at every perimeter area, yelling and pushing, one even tosses a beer bottle on the square and it shatters, spreading glass all across, a few shards reaching Gojo’s feet and he looks down at them with a shudder. A fight immediately breaks out in the crowd over something related or possibly entirely unrelated, and he’d have no way of knowing as he swipes the shards away with his heel.
The influential men always sat up on higher seating, off towards the back in their own VIP section where they suck in the smoke of fat cigarettes and peer through 100% tinted sunglasses to assess the boxers they’ve bid thousands on. The light reflects off the golden grills of their teeth with every snarl at any passerby that gets too close, like a lion in its den. That’s what the sanction was called. Lion’s den.
Gojo sighed, eyeing the twisted grin of this Gale guy across from him. Was that his real name? Usually, foreign district guys get nicknames. Gojo’s always thought the nicknames were tacky, and he’s accumulated some of his own over the years, but to his ears, none of them ever really landed, although The White Fox admittedly was kinda nice. Reminded him of throwback shooting games. 
He sucked a breath in through his teeth, holding his hands up in front of his chest in weak fists, storing energy in them in the form of pure anticipation alone, and then the bell rang.
His opponent lunged towards him immediately, fists flying in a barrage of reckless strikes, and Gojo’s eyes momentarily widened in the briefest moments of hesitation he had been allowed before ducking and dodging every one of this guy's shots, then jumping a step back to create distance.
Fuck. He was fast. Not just boxer fast, athlete fast. There was a difference. And it wasn’t a good one to be up against.
Gojo picked up light on his feet. He couldn’t win this one fast, that much was certain. One single careless or reckless move, and he’ll get tackled. He knows that by the malicious look he sees on that guy’s face, grin wide like he’s some cannibalistic beast. 
Stepping back towards the center, Gojo purposefully set himself up for Gale to swipe a vicious hook towards his head, before Gojo last minute ducked down, crouched to the floor, and swung his leg out to knock the guy off balance by his ankles, and he falls onto his back with a loud thud!
There’s a moment of momentary silence from the crowd, right before Gojo put the man in a torso-lock, twisting him in a way a human body should absolutely not be twisted, hearing the grunts of pain and the crack of spine even through the shouts of the crowd.
He can hear it. Kill him! Knock his fucking teeth out! Snap his neck like a goose, man! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM!
He feels like throwing up. 
Gojo looks up at the referee, who wasn’t really a referee, just there to run the clock when there was action and only barely stop it before near death. “This is enough, right?” he asks.
The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”
Gojo lets go of his opponent, leaving him there to heave for a moment before he gets up onto his feet again. Just needs one more, and he’s a winner. Ten grand in his pocket, and he won’t have to come back here for a couple weeks.
Gale gets up, swiping at the spit that had trickled out the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and he had an enraged look on his face. The second the bell rang for the second round, he exploded forward towards Gojo with even more fervor than before, gritted expression with a thirst for violence fueling the storm of punches he was throwing towards Gojo but he tried to remain calm, light on his feet, swiftly duck and avoid before he can find another opportunity to clear a sharp, clean jab right to the ribs—
sometimes, i think of when you kissed me
Gojo misses his strike, leaving his guard wide open, and Gale takes the opportunity to land a solid punch straight to his jaw, sending his mouth guard flying straight out of his mouth into the air, and knocking him backwards onto the ground with a thud and then he finds himself staring up at the rusting metal ceiling and a ringing in his ears that almost matches the roar of the crowd.
His head is in a haze, dizzy like where one second could feel like a millennia. He feels a soreness underneath his chin, a pain that radiates to his mouth, and he briefly swipes his tongue over his front teeth to make sure he still has all of them. 
What the fuck was that? That intrusive thought. There’s no intrusive thoughts allowed in life or death situations, not when he was always just one smash to the head away from a permanent concussion. But, fuck, he can’t help it. Can’t help thinking of you. Even when his vision has gone blurry and he should really be weary about what happens next in this ring, his mind’s just thinking about you, at some frat party, tipping back shots of tequila and waiting for a text-back in response to your tipsy ones. Were you even waiting up on him? Have you already passed out on the couch, or were your friends dragging you back to your dorm? Or are you fucking some other dude right now? Has he got his hand up your top, squeezing at you, sleazily feeling you up before spilling beer all down your shirt, and are you kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, your phone now somewhere long slipped between the cushions of the couch and out of sight?
Even though it’s still sore, he tenses his jaw. Grinds his teeth, even. Tasting blood somewhere along the line of his gums, he realizes his lip is split. He licks at it, the flavor of copper more rich on his tongue, and he clenches his fists tightly. Why’s he thinking of that right now? It just pisses him off, the thought of you with some other dude. Maybe that’s what he needs to win this fight. Spite. Although he’s not sure why the guy across from him at the ring has to pay for it.
He lifts his head up off the ground, and while it felt like years he had been down, a glance at the timer tells him it’s only been a solid four seconds. A solid four seconds that his opponent had to fully charge a lunge towards him with the look of death in his face, raising his elbow up into the air in time with his leap, ready to come straight down, and Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight above him from where he’s still lying on the wood.
“Shit—” he cusses, rolling his body over to the side so that the dude falls straight down onto the floor rather than elbow Gojo in the fucking ribs, and then he gets back up on his feet. 
Stakes were high, he has to end this, he has to end this now, and he flexes the muscle in his right bicep, channeling everything he has into this one blow, and before Gale even really has a chance to turn around and face him again, Gojo’s already three-fourths set up a knockout undercut that he drives straight up the guy’s chin, with so much force it has him lifting up off the floor, a vertebrate stretch to his spine before he’s sent flying backwards and slammed against the tight rubber lining of the ring to where he was half hanging over it.
The room fell silent for a split second, then erupted in a roar as the referee fell to one knee beside Gale, checking him for any semblance of consciousness, and when he found none, he waves the match off. 
Gojo’s eyes flit up towards the lion’s den, the only opinions that he really needed to care about were sitting in those mahogany chairs with glasses of scotch swirling around in their hands, and he sees some of them looking straight at Gojo before leaning towards one another and discretely talking about something he can’t make out because he doesn’t know how to read lips.
He feels someone tug at his arms from behind, pulling him to crouch down and he balances back on the balls of his feet. He glances down through the ring at the floor. Danny was leaning against the wooden surface of it. “Dude. Go.” He jerks his head towards Gale, who still laid there sprawled across the now stretched out rubber perimeter bands. “Go fuck him up. Knock a few more teeth out, I don’t know, get some more blood out of him.”
“What?” Gojo huffs, yanking his arm away from Danny’s grip. “The fuck are you saying?”
“I told you, man, Newton’s here and he’s got his eye on you. Go give him a show,” Danny says, “do it.” And when he sees clear frustration on Gojo’s face he sighs. “Twenty-five grand, consider that, will you?”
Gojo sneers at the man, an awful taste in his mouth as he spits blood towards Danny’s feet. “Go fuck yourself on his cock if he wants a show that bad.” And then he ducks underneath the bands and hops back down onto the floor, pushing past people who were trying to grab at him and pull at him and lift him up and even throw him down until he made it through flashing hallways and back to the locker room.
He shuts the door behind him, sliding the bolt lock into the frame so no one can follow him inside, and then he leans his weight back against the chilling steel before tipping his head back until it hits the surface too.
He lets out of a few deep breaths, then stares down at the sting he finds over his knuckles. Red and blistering from the last punch he delivered, and he’s almost certain he broke a bone in his hand. Fuck. It was bleeding across the cuts, too. He had to figure out a way to get it all healed by tomorrow, as if that was humanly possible, just because he doesn’t want Yuuji questioning him about it.
Yuuji. For fucks sake, when has he ever thought about the kid this much? When has he ever thought about much of anything when he’s out here or in the ring? He’s a babysitter by day. He’s a “part” of your family when the sun is up and normal functioning society is breathing their lives into the clean air. That’s it. He’s no five-year-old’s caretaker in front of all these primetime drug lords, and he certainly shouldn’t be thinking of you when facing big, burly men he’s aiming to rough up, all within the dead hours of night. So then how come these thoughts are on his mind at all times, twenty-four-seven, around the clock?
He heads further into the locker room, glancing down at the bench where he’d left his phone, then picks it up, neck craned all the way down to glance at the screen as he holds his phone by his hip because he doesn’t have any energy to pick it up any further towards his eyesight. 
He sees your messages. You never sent any follow-up ones, just your horrendously typed out sonetimes, i thikn of when u kisse me *kissed me across the span of four texts, and Gojo runs a tired hand down his face.
He tips his head back to groan at the ceiling, guttural with no basis other than a release of all the pent up frustration of every sort, then he types in a couple messages to you,
3:23am Gojo Satoru: That’s nice 3:24am Gojo Satoru: I think about fucking you all the time 
—and then tosses his phone into his duffel bag to call it a night.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
You’re awoken to your alarm blaring heavily, and you whack your arm across your nightstand table beside your tiny twin-size bed to hit the snooze button, then rub your eye with a loose fist while smacking at the residual taste of alcohol you have on your tongue. 
“Mm…” you mumble to yourself. And then the thirst hits you. The overwhelming, intense, unquenchable thirst that leaves your mouth feeling like the Sahara desert before you grab your twice-dented Hydroflask from the nightstand, twist the cap off and chug about twenty ounces of water in one breath. 
You let out a deep exhale and fall back into bed, your hand resting on top of your water-filled tummy, and you stare up at the ceiling of your dorm. 
Last night was horrible. You knew you shouldn’t have gone to that frat party, especially given you have an exam in—you checked the time on your phone—about an hour, and an hour was not enough time to recover from the raging hangover headache that’s pounding through your head. But your roommates insisted you went, and so go you did. You never knew what to expect, always torn between shaving your pussy before you go or throwing on a stained pair of sweatpants to keep the guys away instead. Sometimes, it was a combination of both. But last night, you ended up drinking more than you usually do, and that always led to poor, poor, poor decisions, in which all the sense of pride you had in yourself was washed down with the puke that you hurled into the upstairs toilet. 
You grab at your phone again, briefly seeing that your friends had sent you some photos from the night. You immediately swiped off to the side to dismiss the notifications, because as far as you were concerned, you never wanted to see those photos in your life.
And then, in the briefest of moments, you saw a familiar name in your notifications that made you heart skip a beat.
Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)
With an immediate gasp, you pulled your phone to your chest and held it there, blinking up at the pale yellow ceiling, your heart picking up in rhythm.
Oh fuck.
That was right.
You drunk texted him last night.
You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.
Fuck.
Mortified was an understatement, possibly because you don’t even remember what you said, and so you don’t even want to see what he replied with.
You groan, rubbing both your hands across your face then kick your sheets back with your feet like a child having a temper tantrum because you were so embarrassed you had even texted him at all last night. I mean, he was hot. A little older than you, really gorgeous eyes, tall, and, yeah, you gave him shit for the Instagram muscles thing, but that’s only because you thought he’d find it cheeky that you were trying to humble him despite the fact that he’s more toned and ruggedly sculpted than any other man you’ve ever met. You didn’t want to have a flustered schoolgirl attitude because it would just seep through to his ego.
In any case, he was hot, there was no denying it, so can you really blame yourself? But still. There was collateral with this. You had to see him every other weekend. He knows your family, even your extended since they invited him to Thanksgiving dinner a couple weeks ago. A high-risque drunk text recipient if he ever was one (of course he has been, look at that face). Why couldn’t you have just drunk texted ECON160 guy from last semester who Clit DJ’d you underneath your desk at the back of the lecture hall instead?
The thing that made you nervous about Gojo Satoru was that he was just so…confident? Like, in that I was raised to be this way confident and not that I fought inner demons my whole life to barely end up this way confident, y’know? Never had to fake it ‘til he made it, he just was. At least that was the kind of energy you got from him, and unfortunately for you, it was nerve wracking but enticing all at the same time.
You sigh. “Stupid. Stupid. Stuuuuuupiiiiidddddddddddd. You. Are. So. Stuuuuuupiiiiddddddd,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair to grip at the strands.
You pull your phone away from your chest, and finally brave yourself to read the texts from your notifications screen, but not without blurring your vision a little to further stall. And then you finally refocus it to read them. The first one you see has you gasping—
3:24am Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter): I think about fucking you all the time 
It has heat spreading across your cheeks, and you blink at your screen, then quickly swipe up to read the previous messages with rushed glides of your index finger on the screen to see that he had sent it to you in response to your barely coherent texts about how you still so often think about that time he randomly pressed you up against the door of your bedroom to kiss you that night you first met him.
I think about fucking you all the time
At 3 in the morning? He decided to send that text at 3 in the fucking morning? That was the devil’s hour. What’s he trying to tell you? 
Oh come on, you’re not stupid. And you know he isn’t either. The sexual tension was palpable, it was there since the day you two met and you almost stabbed him, and also everytime you were visiting the house, and his shoulder brushes against yours when he’s trying to get past you in the kitchen, or when you’ve got Yuuji in your arms and the kid is clinging to Gojo’s sleeve because he wants him near him at all times. There’s even sexual tension over the phone, in those stupid texts he sends you all the time about meaningless child care stuff, and honestly, those little updates made your day.
But… you don’t know much about him, and your mom would kill you if she ever found out you wanted him. And she’d probably pulverize him if she found out he ever made a move on you. Cremated without leaving a trace behind would be an understatement. She thinks he’s no good and she thinks you’re too good. You know she’s warned him before to not get close to you, as if she was pre-emptively expecting him to try to get in your pants like it was some canon force of the universe, hence why he’s probably so fucking awkward around you whenever she’s there too. Like if he accidentally got caught staring at your ankles, your mom would light him on fire, so he’d rather not risk it by just avoiding looking at you at all.
Your mom has always been protective of you. Your father was a deadbeat, one she thought she loved, only to watch him leave. And she had to raise a baby all by herself. He re-entered your lives right before you graduated high school, knocked up your mom again with Yuuji, and guess what? Left again without a trace. To be doubly humiliated by a man is a fate you wouldn’t wish on any woman, but that’s exactly what your mom went through. It was a wake-up call for her, though. No more living paycheck to paycheck like you had been your whole lives up until Yuuji was born. The kid doesn’t even know how lucky he is with everything he has right now. Your mom worked her way up the corporate ladder and made something of herself and now you guys were comfortable, so it was safe to say she had some sort of right to look after her daughter, of whom she simply doesn’t want to follow in the same naive footsteps of her youth.
You get it. She wants to break the generational cycle. But it made being with men tough on all fronts, let alone dating. You could never bring a guy home because he’d never be enough, even if he cured cancer or could make you orgasm while doing a sixty-nine handstand. And while her overbearing paranoia over what you do or where you are or who you’re with has since dimmed slightly since you officially moved out to finish your last year of higher education at NYU, you can still feel her disappointment from a hundred miles away when you’re making out with some random frat guy on his beer-stained couch at eleven AM on a Tuesday.
But you got to college. You’ve already made it this far. You’re on dean’s list. You graduated high school as salutatorian. You’re the most highly decorated cello player in the state. You won Miss County pageant when you were sixteen for your philanthropic efforts towards feline leukemia. You did online community college for three years so you could stick back after high school and help your mom raise Yuuji, which meant that you had to forfeit your scholarship to Cornell. You’ve spent your whole life being good, you just wanna be bad for a little bit.
And if bad meant fucking the hot and mysterious babysitter, then so be it. 
You pick your phone up, begin blasting what the hell by Avril Lavigne on your dorm room bluetooth speaker, then type a message to him that says—
10:34am you: do it then
—then shove your phone under the sheets and belt out the lyrics aaaall my life i’ve been good, but now, ahhhh i’m thinkin’ what the hell!!! while kicking your feet and clutching your pillow.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Gojo has no clue what divine entity has overcast their gratuitous spirit over him on this blessed Monday afternoon, but he’ll thank them for it later once his balls are empty. 
He’s got you on your back, sprawled across the couch in the living room, the first fuck being a rushed one that you offered him with before he has to go pick Yuuji up from circle time at preschool, which wasn’t ideal, but he’s delirious at the sight of you underneath him right now. Your little NYU shirt, a tighter one this time, bunched up over your bare breasts, otherwise entirely naked other than the flimsy panties dangling at your ankle, and the view of the tip of his cock looking hot and heavy against the velvet of your cunt, slowly pushing in, feeling the warmth of your walls squeeze around him paired with the sweet moan that leaves your lips, makes him fall forward with a bracing hand dug into the cushion by the side of your head because the sensation feels so fucking good he can hardly keep himself upright.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pushing himself in further to try and bottom out but he’s still got a couple inches he needs you to take, and so you curl your hips upwards towards the cieling to make more room for him, practically putting yourself into a mating press and soon enough he’s balls deep, “you on any birth control?”
“Uh-huh,” you moan, eyes closed and head tipped back with one hand squeezing your own tit.
“I can cum inside then, yeah?” he asks you, pushing your knees to your chest, slowly drawing his hips back and you squirm underneath him.
“Let’s get there first, and then we’ll discuss,” you breathe out.
“I’ve been there for the past ten minutes, baby. I could cum at any second with the way you look and feel,” he informs you flatly, because it was just the truth and you had to know it, then he feels himself twitch inside, slowly working up to a languid rhythm, almost fearfully like your mom’s going to pop out somewhere around the corner with a camera crew ready like one of those retro TV shows just to humiliate him on national television for not keeping it in his pants like she’d told him to. 
“Harder,” he hears you whisper, and he rolls his eyes shut to just focus on the feeling. The feeling of your nails grazing down the skin of his chest and his abs, tracing the scars he’s collected over the years, and he feels you tightening around him. He leans down to kiss you, fucking you properly now with the squeak of the couch springs echoing across the room, your hums of moans seeping through his lips until he’s fully taking them on with an open-mouthed kiss of sloppy tongue. 
The fact that it was wrong felt right to him, and he realizes in this moment he’s lost all sense of control. He wasn’t just an adrenaline junkie that liked to rough up dudes, he was an adrenaline junkie that wanted to fuck you against all better judgement or moral compass. The way your tits were bouncing, the slap of skin on skin, his balls slapping against your ass while you wrap your legs around him tighter, all convincing him that any consequence made it worth it.
“Good,” he groans the praise, pinning your hands above your head as he rams his hips against yours, your cute moans and squeals sounding like literal music to his ears and he feels heat spread all the way up his neck, “goooood, keep squeezin’ me like that, fuck.” He slows down momentarily, just to take a moment and watch, really look and see the way his length disappears inside of your pretty self with every push forward, and then he works back up to a relentless pace that has you tipping your head back with a slack jaw and eyes closed tightly shut, sprained expression of pleasure spread across.
“Oh, oh my god, Satoru—” you mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips.
“Fuck, I’m gonna—” His hand finds it’s way between your legs, calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your clit and you jolt underneath him, gasping as your hand shoots out to dig your nails into his bicep for purchase. “I’m gonna cum, better tell me where you want it.”
“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”
He presses his mouth against your cheek in a lazy smile, “Atta girl,” he drawls before pushing your ankles down as far as they’d go near your ears, folding you in half and then reigns all hell into your cunt. He should really care a bit more about your pleasure, but testing your flexibility like this with both his hands holding you down was doing sinful things to his brain, and besides, you had yourself covered with the messy circles you were rubbing over your clit. It was hot to see that too, your nimble pretty fingers so close to the place where he was pounding into you. 
“Oh shit, shit, shit—” he grunts when starts to see blistering white in his vision, balls straining with a pleasure that was almost painful. The moment he finishes feels like hot flashes in his brain, a heat like the cum he begins to paint inside your walls in time with your release, thrusting over and over and over, each one more staggered as he lets off a long, drawn out groan that comes from deep within his chest with the feeling of you milking him dry and the sound of you enjoying every second of it. He can’t remember the last time he came this much or this hard and even after coming down from the high, he feels the remnant pulse of your orgasm around his now half-flaccid dick.
He leisurely pulls out, hearing you let out a soft whimper as he marvels at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you and down towards the couch, before he scoops it up with a couple fingers and pushes it back inside. You grip his wrist tightly, but you weren’t stopping it, that motion of him plunging it all back into you.
“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.
“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.
He pulls his fingers out of you, coated with sex, then plugs your pussy with the fingers of his other hand because he kinda likes the idea of you walking around all day with him inside of you, so he doesn’t want it getting out. He’s then pushing his other fingers past your lips, pleased to find he’s met with not even so much as a grazing of teeth, and he grins, “bet you take a dick in your mouth as good as you take it down here.”
Your furrow your brows at him, the pout of your lips seen in the way they were puckered to lick his fingers off clean, and when you release the suction with a smack of your tongue and his fingers were wet from your saliva now, his eyes narrow with desire. You push his face away with the heel of your palm to his forehead. “Flattery won’t make me suck your dick.”
“Alright. So? How is it?” he jerks his chin towards your face, pushing against your hand with his forehead until he’s hovering over you again, “taste good?”
“It’s cum, Satoru.”
He shrugs. “Bad?”
“No,” you say, and you can’t make eye contact, “good.” You sigh. “Hot. I don’t know. Salty, sweet. I’m the sweet. You’re the salty. And this conversation is obscene.”
He kisses you, capturing your lips softly, tongue darting out to taste what’s on yours. “I like it that way. Dirty. Nasty. Obscene, whatever.”
There’s the slam of a car door heard from the driveway, and the two of you instantly make eye contact with round eyes.
“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”
He gets up off the couch in a panic, and heads to the window of the living room fully butt-ass naked, then peers through the blinds to see—
Your mom was making it up towards the front door, rustling with her keys in her purse. And the last thing he sees before he turns around to face you is her pushing the keys through the lock.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he cusses, finding his boxers off of the floor, hopping on one foot with his cum & slick coated dick flapping around and slapping against his thighs unceremoniously as he tries to get one leg in through them and then the other. You’re trembling as you hook your panties back into place, pull your shirt back down your torso, and even in his extremely panicked state, he’s still sad he can’t freely stare at your tits anymore. You’re rummaging for your skirt in a haste, looking everywhere for it, and he finds it underneath the coffee table before tossing it to you and then he side-to-side hops towards the coat closet while he pulls his sweatpants up over his ass, in time for you to quickly run and shut the door of the closet closed just before the front door of the house swings open.
The inside of the coat closet is dark, barely enough space in there for a six-foot-four two-hundred-and-twenty pound man, but it’s better than being balls deep inside his boss’s daughter on the couch when said boss just came home from work.
He hears conversation on the other side of the door, albeit muffled, and he presses his ear to it to hear better while he tucks his dick into his boxers from where it was hanging over the waistline.
“Mom! You…you’re home so early,” he hears you squeak out.
“Yes,” your mom says, “The rest of my meetings today are online, so I figured I’d come home when there’s less traffic.”
Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.
“I see, I see, how was your day at work?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.
“Fine.” And then nothing. The silence could mean that was all she had to say, since your mom wasn’t really a woman of many words, or it could be a silence that means she’s suspicious about something. “Darling, why is your skirt flipped up and tucked into your panties? Your whole butt is showing.”
Through the wood of the door, he hears you softly gasp. “Oh, um, I just went to pee. Must’ve—…must’ve got caught when I pulled it back up.” 
“I see,” your mother says, and Gojo can hear her dropping her heels down near the shoe rack at the entrance. “You know, I really don’t like those short skirts you wear often. Maybe it’s just your generation, but I think it looks tacky and cheap.”
“Mom,” you say, in as stern of a voice as you can manage without sounding embarrassed.
Your mother sighs. “In any case, where is Satoru? I still would like him to go pick up Yuuji. I don’t have the patience to sit in preschool & daycare traffic right now.”
“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” you chirp, and then he hears you let out a small oh no before you lean even more weight against the door, this time somewhere lower, and he realizes you’re pressing your ass against it. His eyes narrow with a small frown, and then he realizes— his cum must still be trickling down your thighs. You couldn’t put your panties on fast enough. 
Shit. That’s hot. A little fucked up, but hot. He feels his dick harden against the fabric of his boxers, and he rests his forehead against the door, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat as he slips his hands down his sweatpants and then gives his cock a firm squeeze. The thought of you discretely swiping his cum up your inner thigh and smearing it against your thin panties so your mom doesn’t catch sight of it dripping down your legs has him slowly working up to a rock-solid erection, and he almost lets out a broken grunt from the feeling.
“What?” your mother says, “what do you mean you don’t know?”
“I’ve just been watching TV this whole time,” you say, “last time I saw him…he was…um, in the backyard pulling weeds?”
He lets out a small scoff through his nose at your cover-up. Cute. And not bad. 
Your mother sighs loudly, and he glances down at the strained veins on his dick as he tugs it through his hand, the tip rearing and appearing flushed and dripping with precum. God, you were just on the other side of this door. Less than a few inches away, and he’d be inside of you. 
“I’m going to take a shower. Go find him and tell him to pick up Yuuji soon. But before then, change into something less revealing,” your mother says in a more or less detached tone, and he can hear the stomps of her footsteps up the stairs from above him in the coat closet.
The two of you wait at least a solid minute, and just when the coast is clear, he hears you turn the knob of the coat closet and slowly crack it open.
“Okay, I think she’s in the shower, I hear the water running,” you whisper at him, “you can go now—” You glance down towards his groin, your jaw dropping. “What—…Satoru, why the fuck is your dick staring at me right now?!” you whisper-hiss at him.
He pulls you into the coat closet, pushing your front against the door to where it clicks shut, and you gasp when his hands pin your wrists crossed behind your back and his dick presses into the plush of your ass.
“You talkin’ to your mom while your pussy’s stuffed full of my cum was the single hottest thing that’s ever grazed my lizard brain,” he tells you, flipping your skirt up and hooking your panties to the side, his index finger briefly brushing against your entrance to find it still leaking from the way your walls were pulsating from his words. And then he aligns his tip to your entrance. “Now keep quiet while I do this, ‘kay?”
“Oh—” you gasp, your cheek pressed against the door as you arch your back and push your ass out for him, “okay—” you say, barely vocalizing the first syllable before he’s already stuffing himself inside of you with one solid glide of a push, making you yelp loudly and he has to instantly cup a hand over your mouth.
“Shhhhhh,” he hisses at you, immediately starting to pound you from behind, “told you to— fuuuck,” he catches sight of his length covered with a mix of your glassy arousal and his white cum, now starting to cream at the base of his cock, “jesus christ—” he breathes out, squeezing the flesh of your ass harshly with his other hand and you let out another yelp, “I told you to fuckin’ keep quiet.”
“I’m—mff,” you muffle against his palm, “I’m trying but,” your hips move back in time with his, “feels good, feels too good,” you mewl, and his hand desperately yanks up the fabric of your shirt so he can squeeze at your breast.
“Yeah?” he grunts, hypocritical for telling you to keep it down when he was slamming his hips against your ass with so much fervor he wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was reverberating across the entire house, “you like it when I fuck you while your mom’s all clueless just up the stairs?” His rhythm falters, feeling his release building, and his hand reaches in front of you to rub your clit, making you drop your head against the door with tightly closed eyes. “Gets— you—wet, doesn’t it?” he torments you, his lips near your ear as he slams his hips against you harshly with every enunciated syllable. 
“Mhm, mhm,” you easily agree, or maybe that’s because it’s all you can really articulate, and he angles his hips up so his balls slap more fervently against your clit, making you scream into his palm while he picks up the pace of the circles he draws on your clit and in one, two, three— beats of his pounding heart, he feels you come undone around his cock, gushing wetness leaking out of you, he can feel the mess of fluids splattering on the skin of his thighs due to each of his heaving thrusts as he cusses out a fuuuuuuckkk before spilling his cum inside of you, a short-lived and thicker release this time that has you mewling from overstimulation, and in a few following thrusts, he’s given you everything he had to give.
His eyes open, he wasn’t even aware he had shut them in the first place, and he glances down at where the two of you were joined. Rings of arousal coat the length of his half-pulled-out dick, and the second he retreats all of it, a bulging push of his cum seeps out of you, dripping and pooling all over the hardwood floors.
“Holy shit, I wish I could take a picture of this,” he says, taking a step away to commit the sight to memory, your legs trembling and still slightly spread, ass pushed out and when you wiggle it a little, he lets out a huff of an exhale because he just can’t believe how sexy you are. Are all college girls like this? He’s never been to college, his old man’s been trying to get him to go for years, but maybe this is what finally convinces him.
“No pics,” you breathe out once you catch your breath, standing up straight slowly, “that’s my one sex rule.”
He takes a step closer to you, flipping your skirt back over your ass while you shimmy your shirt down to cover your chest. “That’s the only rule you have? Anything else goes?” he asks.
You spin around to face him, his eyes briefly flitting down to the still exposed skin of your midriff. “I have a feeling I’d be making up more specific rules if it was with you.”
He smiles, his hands grabbing your hips before pressing you up against the door again. “I also had a rule. It was to not fuck you. Wait, no, to not flirt with you. Which, technically, I didn’t do.”
You blink your eyes at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“What?” he asks, genuinely confused, “I didn’t.”
“Huh—” you scoff, “how do you think we got into this situation in the first place?? You didn’t just say wanna fuck? You were insufferably flirty with me.”
“Nahhh nah nah nah nah, baby, that’s not flirting,” he tells you, thumb running circles over your hips, “that’s, like—…I don’t even fuckin’ know how it worked on you to be honest, I was just being stupid.”
“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”
“I never said you were stupid?”
“Well you said you were being stupid so me falling for it must mean I’m stupid.”
“Pshhh. You’re cute. Pulling weeds, by the way? Adorable.”
Your hand slowly roams up the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching at your wrists until you uncovered up to his collar bone, and you stare at his skin. He tries to not let the way his heart’s beating faster show through the heave of his chest. 
“Why do you have all these scars, anyway?” you whisper to him.   
“Too many girls tryna stab me,” he tells you.
You roll your eyes. “Seriously.” Your thumb traces the one you had left on him. 
“I—” He stops himself.
Does he tell you? Should he tell you? What, just because he’s seen you naked and you took his dick like a queen he’s supposed to open up to you about these things now? He doesn’t know. Maybe he could? Maybe you already suspect what he does at night. And if not, at the very least, I’m an underground boxer might make you think he’s hot? At the very worst, you’ll report him to the cops and he’d get fired as your little brother’s babysitter then thrown into jail, but not before the busted cartel gets him first.
“Maybe I’ll tell you some other time,” he says, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling it from his chest, “no hyper personal details until you’ve had my dick in your mouth at least once or twice. That’s my one rule.”
You snort. “I could’ve guessed that rule from a mile away.”
He hums. And then there’s the sound of steps creaking down the stairs above the two of you.
You both make eye contact, eyes widening, internally yelling at each other: how the fuck did we get into this situation twice?!
This time, Gojo opens the door and stumbles out of the closet, leaving you inside of it, just in time for your mom to come down the stairs.
“Satoru. I was looking for you,” she says as she rounds the post. “Have you picked up Yuuji? He has to go for his swimming lessons soon.”
“Ah, nope, was just about to head out,” he says, letting out a cough to diffuse tension, “sorry, I was—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind him, “…pulling out some gnarly weeds.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “I see. Well, thanks. If you want, I can add a gardening stipend to your paycheck. Let me know.” And he’s not sure how to respond because he’s not sure if she’s joking. 
He heads out the door, the keys to your mom’s minivan in his palm as he throws them up into the air and catches them a couple times. And just before he gets inside the car, he turns on his heel to face the house and pulls his phone out of his pocket to type in a message for you.
3:22pm Gojo Satoru: Send over those me-specific sex rules soon
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.
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[the end]
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a/n. hope u enjoyed im shitting bricks posting this bc i haven't posted a oneshot smut since february but thanks so much for reading i appreciate u!! i got way too invested in the whole underground boxer thing 😂😂 but the fact i managed to keep everything under 12k is an accomplishment to me bc if u read my other fics you know i’m a yapper LOL i have another kind of a similarly written smut oneshot n it’s a lil angsty (totally different au tho) i’ll probs post that one next but yea i really like, hmm, i really like exploring entire characters within a short amount of time i enjoy writing the obscure lore drops xd it’s been kinda fun so far anywho much loveee hope to see u around! <3
➸ masterlist
taglist:
@joemama-2 @erencvlt @pickuptruck01 @hanakotateyama @nuronhe
@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat
@sirencholia @sorcerersseestars @horisdope @to-dabi @staoru
@aliidarling @ninjaturtletoes @lavender-hvze @lanadelreylover11 @chckn-pi
@satoryaa @gojodickbig @v4mpieres @reinam00n @sleepyyammy
@haikomaiko @tbzzluvr @myahfig4 @arabelluhhh4200 @bloopsstuff
@nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf @badbclub @blackunecorn @geniejunn @n0tviv
@verystrawberryhottub @iheartshopping @peonysfordayz @dreamsxmerci @aishies-stuff
@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh
@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru
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list4r · 5 months ago
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“Baby- it’s too hot for this shit, cut it out.” Toji grumbles as you once again, cling to him. It’s the hottest night of the summer and Toji is probably sweating in every crevice in his body. It doesn’t make it better when you cling to him like a koala. He tries to move you gently, just wanting a little room between your bodies. That turns into a failure as you tangle your legs together with his, only holding onto him tighter. Don’t get him wrong, he loves when you two cuddle. But not when it was hotter than any hell.
He finally gets a sense of relief when he hears the shuffle of the sheets behind him. The bed feels a little lighter and the room gets a little too quiet. Toji turns around and furrows his brows. “The fuck?” He leans over the edge of the bed and sees you lying on the floor with a pillow.
“What are you doing down there?” No answer so he tried again. “Baby get off the floor, that can’t be comfortable.”
“No you hate me.”
That causes him to scoff. “When did I say that shit?”
“You didn’t want to cuddle me.”
“It’s like a million fuckin’ degrees in here. It’s not because of you, I just don’t want to sweat my balls off.”
“Kay.”
So you really weren’t going to come back to bed and that causes him to raise an eyebrow. He stares at your back for a few minutes before getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. “You can get off the floor now, I’ll hold you… or whatever.” When he gets no answer he sighs loudly. “Fuckin’ fine.”
That’s how the both of you end up on the floor with your arms and legs wrapped around him. You basically use him as a pillow, but it’s okay. As long as you’re comfortable and happy he’s fine with a little back ache and sweat. “Lucky I love you…” Toji mutters before placing a kiss on your head and closing his eyes with a quiet sigh, but you don’t miss the slight upturn of his lips.
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tiedsuccubus · 5 months ago
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What position was nanami’s mom getting clapped in to create such a beautiful man
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nanaslutt · 18 days ago
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sending them a pic of you in their underwear
ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, higuruma, shiu, ino, shoko, uraume
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ʚ cont: suggestiveness, fluff
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
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jinjeriffic · 2 months ago
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DCxDP - Death and Taxes
Broke college student but also the Ghost King Danny looking at the stack of complaint forms in his inbox about people cheating death. In a stroke of sleep deprived inspiration, he issues a royal decree that anyone who has properly died before (I.e biologically dead, not just clinically dead) is still a citizen of the Infinite Realms, even if they were resurrected. And have to pay income tax to the Crown.
He establishes the Infinite Realms Revenue Service, recruits the ghosts of some meticulous accountants and sends them after all the assholes who think they can escape Death and Taxes. Starting with the worst offenders (ie those who have escaped death the longest/most often). Your tax bracket scales with how many times you died.
Just picture Ra's al-Ghul, in the middle of giving some speech to his assassin cult when this Phil Coulson looking ghost dude shows up behind him to "discuss the back taxes he owes to the Crown".
Every magic user worth their salt is suddenly swamped with messages from panicked villains and heroes who are trying to figure out wtf is going on and how to get out of this. Constantine is sweating bullets.
Danny hires Valerie to do mortal side "casework", because a, she's just as saddled with student debt as he is b, has worked fast food and knows how to handle asshole customers c, doesn't take shit from anybody.
Imagine Vandal Savage, Felix Faust and Red Hood awkwardly sitting in a waiting room with a stack of documents each, ready for their number to be called so they can dispute their claims. Being called in and utterly flummoxed at the unflappable, bored young woman at the desk who somehow has files on everything about you - birth record, death record(s), who you killed and when records... now declare your income as a crime lord/dictator/sorcerer, sir.
Meanwhile Danny is planning on how he can allocate the taxes to open a soup kitchen for Lunch Lady to work at and similar shit. He is determined to be a good king, dammit!
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guiiay · 1 month ago
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the spear of longinus
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 2 months ago
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Not telling the JJK men you love them back over the phone
Tags: smau, fluff, crack, suggestive (only on Toji’s and Nanami’s slides)
An: I saw this prank being done on TikTok by a girl and her boyfriend, so I tried to replicate it in smau format with the JJK men so enjoy :) alsoooo how are we feeling about the new contact photos 🤭
Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Toji, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi, Inumaki
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creamflix · 21 days ago
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part two here
dumbass boyfriend sukuna who's hands are too big for a phone so you get him an ipad with a sim card in it.
this man straight up whips out an ipad in public when he's grocery shopping and face times you to ask what brand of milk do you need or something. you've probably turned on a lot of accessibility tools as well for him (made the font size bigger especially). and no password for him because he finds it stupid and a waste of time. definitely uses the pre-installed photo-booth even though he never admits it.
you need to beg him to not carry his ipad on dates because he wants to take pictures of you, so he grumbles and takes your phone instead. again, hands too big to click on the shutter button so you invest in a tripod/selfie stick with those button photo clickers on it so he uses that to take photos of you. demands you share every single picture with him, even the blurry or "bad" ones. fascinated by airdrop (if you have an ios)
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imfoive · 28 days ago
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Skz fake texts ── bf! SKZ Calling them “Husband” randomly strong dose of delulu
Warning: mentions of cursing, suggestive
── all fake texts
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Requested.
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retiredteabag · 3 months ago
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Missing you while you’re away
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Including: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Yuuji, Megumi
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
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calist4r · 13 days ago
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Tie him up
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⤬ asking the jjk men to be your christmas present :3 aka tied up under the tree
incl ⤬ Nanami Satoru Suguru Toji Choso Ino
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jungwnies · 19 days ago
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TIKTOK TREND WITH YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND | "we listen and we don't judge"
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୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : "we listen and we don't judge" trend
୨ৎ : genre : humor, angsty only if you squint ୨ৎ : tws : light teasing, SLIGHTLY suggestive for lewis and charles ୨ৎ : word count : 3255
୨ masterlist ৎ
ᡣ𐭩 a/n : race weekend !! can't believe lewis is finally breaking up with mercedes :'(
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ʚ・max verstappen
you and max were sprawled on the couch after dinner, scrolling through your phone, you came across the "we listen and we don’t judge" trend and turned to max with a mischievous grin.
“max, we’re doing something,” you announced, setting your phone down.
he raised an eyebrow. “what now?”
“it’s this trend. i’ll say ‘we listen and we don’t judge,’ and you have to confess something funny or random you’ve kept from me. then it’s my turn. we go back and forth, no getting mad. deal?”
he smirked, clearly intrigued. “sounds dangerous. but alright, i’m in.”
you grinned. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge.”
max leaned back, rubbing his chin like he was deep in thought. “alright... sometimes, when you’re not around, i watch rom-coms. and yes, i cry a little.”
your jaw dropped, and you smacked his arm lightly. “you cry? you don’t even tear up during sad movies with me!”
“no judging!” he reminded you, laughing. “your turn.”
you sighed, biting back a smile. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes when i say i’m folding laundry, i’m actually just lying on the bed scrolling on my phone.”
max blinked, a laugh bubbling out of him. “seriously? i knew it took you way too long to fold a few shirts!”
“no judging!” you shot back, grinning. “your turn.”
he grinned, leaning in a little. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i told you i’d stop eating stroopwafels late at night, but i have a secret stash in the garage.”
you gasped dramatically. “the garage? max!”
“you said no judging,” he said smugly. “your turn.”
you rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge… remember when your favorite hoodie ‘got lost’? i actually stole it, and it’s hidden in my closet.”
his eyes narrowed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. “so that’s where it went! i’ve been looking for it for months!”
“it’s comfy!” you defended. “last one, your turn.”
max smirked. “we listen, and we don’t judge… when i say i’m working late at the simulator, half the time i’m just watching motorsport documentaries.”
you stared at him, stunned. “max!”
he laughed, throwing an arm around you. “hey, at least i’m consistent. no judging, remember?”
“fine,” you muttered, shaking your head but smiling. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”
ʚ・lewis hamilton
it was a rare, lazy afternoon at home with lewis, the two of you stretched out on the couch with no obligations for the day. you were scrolling through your phone when a trending couples game caught your attention. immediately, you knew lewis would make this hilarious.
“lewis,” you said, nudging his arm.
he turned to you, smirking. “what is it now?”
“we’re playing a game. it’s called ‘we listen and we don’t judge.’ i’ll say that, and you have to confess something funny or random you’ve been hiding. then it’s my turn. but no getting mad.”
his smirk deepened, clearly intrigued. “no getting mad? sounds like this might end in trouble.”
“just go with it,” you said, grinning. “you’re up first. we listen, and we don’t judge.”
he leaned back, tapping his chin like he was debating the perfect confession. “alright… we listen, and we don’t judge. i once borrowed your face cream, and now i’m low-key addicted to your skincare routine.”
you blinked at him, your jaw dropping. “you’re the reason i keep running out so fast?”
he grinned sheepishly. “your stuff’s top tier. what can i say?”
“unbelievable.” you shook your head, but you couldn’t stop laughing. “fine, my turn. we listen, and we don’t judge... i sometimes hide the remote under the couch cushion when you won’t stop flipping channels.”
his mouth fell open in mock shock. “that’s why i can never find it?!”
“no judging!” you reminded him, biting back a laugh.
“alright, alright,” he said, sitting up straighter. “we listen, and we don’t judge... when i say i’m texting toto, sometimes i’m actually looking at old pictures of roscoe.”
you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “roscoe’s been getting all the attention while i’ve been sitting here, huh?”
“he’s my boy,” lewis said with a shrug, a proud grin on his face. “your turn.”
you smirked, thinking for a moment. “we listen, and we don’t judge... i may or may not have eaten the last slice of cake and blamed it on you forgetting it in the fridge.”
he pointed at you, his eyes wide. “you did that? i thought i was losing my mind!”
“no judging!” you said, giggling.
“fine,” he said, shaking his head but laughing. “last one. we listen, and we don’t judge... i keep your voice notes on my phone and listen to them when—”
before he could finish, you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “lewis!”
he was already cracking up, raising his hands in surrender. “you said no judging!”
“and you’re breaking the rules of decency!” you shot back, hitting him again as he laughed harder.
he eventually grabbed the pillow from you, pulling you into his lap. “you’re lucky i love you. even if you ate my cake.”
“you’re lucky i love you,” you teased back, resting your forehead against his. “even if roscoe gets all your attention.”
ʚ・george russell
it was one of those chill evenings at home, where neither of you had any pressing plans. george was scrolling through his phone, half paying attention to whatever was on tv, when you suddenly sat up with a mischievous grin.
“george,” you started, already giggling.
he glanced over, instantly suspicious. “what have i done now?”
“nothing… yet. but we’re playing a game,” you said. “it’s called ‘we listen and we don’t judge.’ we take turns confessing random, stupid things, and the other person can’t get mad or judge.”
he narrowed his eyes, clearly trying not to laugh. “this sounds like a trap.”
“it’s not a trap!” you promised. “come on, i’ll start. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you’re out, i play f1 23 just so i can crash your car and watch it fly into the barriers.”
his jaw dropped. “my car?! my poor car! how could you?”
“no judging!” you reminded him, grinning. “your turn.”
he sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “alright, fine. we listen, and we don’t judge… once, when you were in the shower, i tried on your slippers, and honestly? i get why you love them so much. they’re so soft.”
you stared at him, stunned, before bursting into laughter. “you mean to tell me you’ve been walking around in my fluffy bunny slippers?”
“not walking,” he said defensively. “just… trying them on.”
“sure,” you said, still laughing. “okay, my turn. we listen, and we don’t judge… one time, i accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the wash and blamed it on the dryer.”
george’s eyes went wide. “that was you?! i thought i’d bulked up!”
“no judging!” you said quickly, holding back another laugh. “your turn.”
he leaned back, a mischievous grin on his face. “we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you’re asleep, i watch those weird, satisfying carpet-cleaning videos on youtube.”
you blinked at him, trying not to laugh. “you’re telling me you’re out here binge-watching carpet scrubbing at 2 a.m.?”
“they’re oddly relaxing!” he said with mock indignation. “your turn.”
you smirked. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i stole one of your racing socks once because i couldn’t find mine, and i still have it.”
“oh, so that’s why i’ve been missing one sock this whole time!” he said, pointing at you dramatically.
“you weren’t supposed to notice!”
george laughed, pulling you into his arms. “this game is wild, but now i’m going to look at my socks, slippers, and sweaters very differently. also, we’re getting you your own racing socks.”
ʚ・carlos sainz
it was one of those laid-back evenings, the two of you lounging on the couch, tiktok videos filling the quiet air between laughs. carlos had his phone propped up on the armrest, both of you scrolling through videos. when you came across one of those “we listen and we don’t judge” videos, your eyes lit up.
“we should do that,” you said, grinning at him.
carlos raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “tú y yo? (you and me?) i don’t know… are you sure you’re ready for my confessions?”
you crossed your arms and smirked. “oh, please. i bet you have nothing on me.”
“alright then,” he said, locking his phone and turning fully toward you. “we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you ask me to fix something around the house, i pretend i don’t know how so you’ll do it.”
you stared at him, wide-eyed. “carlos! you’ve been faking it?”
“no judging!” he said, smirking back at you, completely unfazed. “your turn.”
you shook your head in disbelief but couldn’t help but laugh. “fine. we listen, and we don’t judge… i once took a picture of your car keys just so i could send it to you and pretend i had your keys when i’d lost mine.”
his eyes widened. “wait, so you’ve been using my keys to trick me into thinking you didn’t lose yours?!”
“yeah, well… no judging!” you said, grinning.
carlos leaned back, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “okay, we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you get me to help you clean, i do half the work and then take a break to watch racing highlights on my phone.”
you stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. “you’re literally cleaning with one hand and watching f1 with the other?”
“isn’t that multitasking?” he said, shrugging with a teasing grin. “your turn.”
you rolled your eyes, but your lips couldn’t stop smiling. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i’ve been secretly eating your chocolate stash. and no, i don’t plan to stop.”
carlos leaned toward you, pretending to be shocked. “¿qué? (what?) you’ve been stealing my chocolate? that’s it, i’m hiding it next time!”
you giggled, shrugging innocently. “no judging!”
carlos pulled you closer, laughing softly. “alright, alright. you’ve won this round, but next time, i’m keeping my keys—and my chocolate—locked up.”
you smirked, resting your head on his shoulder. “no judgment, remember?”
ʚ・charles leclerc
charles was sitting at the piano, playing casually, while you were scrolling through tiktok. you stumbled across the "we listen and we don’t judge" trend and couldn't resist showing him.
“amour, look at this. we should try it.”
he looked up from the keys, a playful grin on his face. “what is it? another tiktok trend i’ll regret?”
you showed him the video. “it’s a confession game. we take turns sharing things we’ve kept secret, and the other person can’t judge. we listen and we don’t judge.”
he raised an eyebrow. “you know i’m already regretting this, right mon amour?”
you laughed. “don’t be dramatic. we listen and we don’t judge.”
“alright, alright,” he said, stretching. “i'll go first…we listen, and we don’t judge… i used all your shampoo in the shower once, and when i realized it was nearly empty, i just told you it was already like that, so i threw it out while i was cleaning.”
you blinked, looking surprised. “charles! and you didn't even buy more!”
charles laughed. “at least i put it in the recycling, right?”
“no judgment…i guess." you chuckled, shaking your head. "alright, your my. but i’m keeping track of this, and i'm checking how much shampoo is left every time i get in the shower!”
you take a deep breath before giving him a cheeky grin, “okay, we listen, and we don’t judge… when i told you i knew how to cook that fancy dinner, i was actually watching youtube tutorials the whole time. i burnt it twice, so i just pretended i forgot and ordered something instead.”
charles burst out laughing. “i knew it! it tasted too good to be true. so, you’ve been secretly lying to me this whole time?”
you shrugged innocently. “we listen, we don’t judge.”
he raised his hands in surrender. “fine, no judgment.”
then, he leaned in a little closer, his grin turning slightly mischievous. “okay, last one, but don’t judge, alright amour? i… sometimes fantasize about you in that dress you wore the other night… and how it’d look when you—”
“shut up, charles!” you cut him off, quickly throwing a pillow at him. “don’t say that out loud!”
charles just laughed harder, hands up in defense. “what? you said we listen and we don’t judge!”
“i didn’t say you could be that honest!” you shot back, laughing as you tried to grab the pillow back.
he grabbed it first, pulling you closer and holding you in his arms. “you’re lucky i love you, even when you’re stealing my shampoo.”
you grinned, leaning your forehead against his. “you’re lucky i love you, even when you make me blush with your terrible flirting.”
charles winked. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”
ʚ・lando norris
you and lando were sprawled on the couch, both scrolling through tiktok when you came across the “we listen and we don’t judge” trend. you smirked, nudging him.
“hey, this looks fun. we should do it,” you said.
lando glanced at the screen, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “oh, i’m so in. i’ve got a few things i’ve been meaning to get off my chest.”
you laughed, knowing this could get interesting. “alright, we listen, and we don’t judge.”
lando immediately sat up straighter, ready to spill. “okay, okay. i’ve got one. we listen, and we don’t judge… i’ve been telling you i’m really good at making spaghetti, but the truth is, i just pour sauce over it and hope for the best. i don’t actually know how to cook it properly.”
you stared at him. “wait, you’ve been lying about being a chef this whole time?”
lando shrugs, looking way too proud of himself. “hey, it works. you still like it, don’t you?”
you couldn’t help but laugh. “i don’t even know what to say to that. you’re like a pasta fraud.”
he leaned back, looking smug. “i’ve never been caught, so it’s all good.”
“alright, my turn,” you said, smirking. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i once accidentally ate all your leftover pizza and just left the box in the fridge like nothing happened. i thought you wouldn’t notice.”
lando’s eyes widened. “noooooo, you didn’t! you ate the pizza and didn’t even say anything?”
you nodded, trying not to laugh. “yep. i was hungry.”
he rubbed his temples. “this is worse than the spaghetti. at least i knew what i was doing with that!”
“hey, we don’t judge,” you shot back.
lando paused, looking like he was trying to think of something equally embarrassing to share. “alright, alright. this one’s a good one. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes when i’m on facetime with you, i don’t really pay attention. i just let you talk while i’m scrolling through instagram or playing games. but i’m good at pretending like i’m listening.”
you stared at him, wide-eyed. “what? no way. so all those times i thought you were listening to me, you were just—what? ignoring me?”
he winced, shrugging. “i mean, yeah. but i still love you, i promise! i’m just multitasking.”
“lando!” you threw a pillow at him. “i can’t believe you! that’s a whole new level of rude.”
he ducked, still laughing. “we listen, and we don’t judge!”
you rolled your eyes. “yeah, well, i’m judging. big time.”
then you paused, smirking. “fine. one more. we listen, and we don’t judge… i once tried to sneakily eat all your chocolate bars, but i was so obvious about it that you caught me before i even finished.”
lando couldn’t help but laugh. “what?! you didn’t even hide it well?”
you shrugged. “i panicked, okay? i thought i could get away with it.”
“i can’t with you,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re lucky i love you, even though you’re a snack thief and a liar.”
you grinned. “i’m lucky you love me, even though you can’t even cook spaghetti properly.”
he smirked. “you’re lucky i still cook for you, pizza thief.”
ʚ・oscar piastri
you and oscar were curled up on the sofa in your shared apartment, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok. a video popped up showcasing the "we listen and we don't judge" trend, and you nudged oscar with your elbow.
"hey, this looks fun," you said, grinning. "we should do it."
oscar, his eyes still glued to his phone, shrugged. "sure, why not?" he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "though i can't imagine having any confessions that are that scandalous."
"oh, you'd be surprised," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "everyone has secrets, oscar."
he chuckled, finally tearing his gaze away from the screen. "alright, let's do it. we listen, and we don't judge."
you took a deep breath, a mischievous glint in your eye. "okay, here goes. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have 'accidentally' shrunk your favorite mclaren hoodie in the wash. like, significantly."
oscar's eyes widened in horror. "you what?!" he exclaimed, leaping off the couch to inspect the damage. "not the hoodie with the papaya stripe! that was vintage!"
you winced, trying to hide your amusement. "it was an accident! i swear! i must have mixed up the settings on the washing machine."
he held up the shrunken garment, now more suitable for a toddler than a formula 1 driver. "y/n, this looks like something a chihuahua would wear!"
you burst out laughing. "okay, okay, i messed up. but hey, maybe it'll make a comeback as a crop top?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
oscar sighed, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "alright, alright. my turn. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have accidentally reversed your car into the mailbox last week."
your jaw dropped. "what?! the mailbox that's now leaning at a 45-degree angle? that was you?!"
he cringed. "yeah, about that… i was in a bit of a rush, and i may have misjudged the distance."
"misjudged the distance?" you repeated incredulously. "oscar, you're a formula 1 driver! you judge distances for a living!"
he shrugged sheepishly. "everyone makes mistakes, okay? besides, it's not like i crashed an actual race car."
you shook your head, still in disbelief. "this is unbelievable. what's next, are you going to admit you can't actually cook?"
oscar's eyes widened, and he quickly changed the subject. "okay, your turn! let's hear another confession."
you smirked, knowing you had him on the ropes. "alright, fine. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have pretended to like your favorite band just to impress you when we first started dating."
he gasped dramatically. "you mean you don't actually enjoy listening to that obscure australian rock band?"
you cringed. "okay, maybe 'enjoy' is a strong word. but i've grown to appreciate them… sort of."
oscar burst out laughing. "this is too good! i can't believe you've been faking it this whole time!"
you playfully punched his arm. "hey, at least i tried! besides, it's not like you haven't exaggerated your cooking skills."
he grinned, pulling you closer. "touché. well, i guess we're both full of surprises."
you snuggled into his side, still chuckling. "yeah, i guess we are. but hey, at least we can be honest with each other, right?"
"absolutely," he agreed, kissing your forehead. "we listen, and we don't judge… mostly."
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