#and i got two days off of school lets fucking go
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madamechrissy · 3 days ago
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Let me in your ocean, Swim
The five times Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, and the one that works
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Pairings- Sukuna x F reader (both like 23/24)
Summary- You have known Sukuna your entire life, and he's infuriated you for most of it. Since you were kids on a playground he was picking on you, and you decided you hate him (love him!?) little do you know, he's been in love with you since the moment you met. There were five times he tried and epically failed to let you know. You all don't see each other for two years after college, when you run into him on Valentine's day at the bar- and you think, what better for getting jilted tonight then a hate fuck from Sukuna!? But... no, in fact he needs to finally tell you the truth. Sukuna 5+1 valentines story
CW- MDNI/NSFW- Idiots to lovers, enemies to lovers (kinda!?) Sukuna is TERRIBLE at feelings, reader is bratty, he is lowkey a bully when you're younger, go through the five times he tried to tell you (intermingles with the current night) sweet, angsty, smutty. Warnings oh boy a lot- Explicit sex, sexual tension, tummy bulges, breed kink, oral sex (m and f recieving) fingering, rough sex, creampie, possessive Sukuna, lots of dirty talk, alcohol underage, use of recreational drugs etc, it's me so ofc we have a lowkey breed kink lol- LONG ONE- 14.8k wc- TRUST ME PLZ lol
tracks for this Breathe // On My Own // Me & U // Wicked Games // The High
Comments/reblogs so appreciated if you enjoyyyy <3
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You didn’t expect to be sitting alone at a bar for Valentine’s day, but here you are, dressed to the nines in a beautiful glittery black dress, hair done up, makeup perfect on your skin. You have glittery bangles along your wrist, and red bottom heels, you’re as dressed up as you ever got, but right before your date, your boyfriend decided to break things off with you.
Which leads you to this hole in the wall bar, across the street from the fancy restaurant you’d sat at for an hour waiting on him, only to get broken up via text. Sighing, you order another drink, tensing then when you hear it, the damn voice of the man who you simultaneously couldn’t stand and also had it bad for, for years and years, ever since elementary school.
“Tch, what’re you doing here brat?” You glare up at him, but when you see just how good Sukuna looks, after two years of not seeing him? You falter, lips parted just so as he smirks down at you.
However, his heart is pounding in his chest, despite certainly not showing you outwardly, you take his damn breath away. Sukuna has always found you to be the most beautiful, infuriating little creature in existence. And you’ve just gotten more beautiful, which in itself irritates the shit out of him, it was hard enough acting ‘normal’ around you all his life.
But now?
“What’re you doing here, Kuna?” He snorts, rolling ruby red eyes, leaning against the bar with an elbow propped on it, glaring at you.
“Don’t call me that, god.”
“It irritates you, so I will.” You smile up at him, sipping the rest of your drink, which he eyes disparagingly.
“What’s that pink shit?”
“Oh, like your hair?” You counter, raising a brow, his jaw sets. “Ya want one, Kuna?”
“No, I don’t want your little bitch drink.” You roll your eyes now, as he sits next to you, and your eyes sweep over his starch white dress shirt and black slacks, stretching over muscles that seemed to have only gotten more pronounced since college.
“Not even my cherry, hmm?” You tease, pulling the maraschino out of your cup, dangling it in front of his face.
“That’s long gone, I’m sure, looking all slutty …” He murmurs, right in your ear, you shove at him, scoffing.
“You’re slutty, Sukuna. Pretty sure you fucked a whole sorority last time we caught up?”
“Mmm, rumors, rumors.” He holds up two fingers now. “Gimme something that’s not a little bitch drink, please.”
“So manly, oh heavens!” You pretend to fan yourself and he can’t stop the laughter, but he soon covers it with a glare.
“Get her some more of this pink crap.” He says, and you are a little surprised then, looking at the handsome man who’s had your heart for so long you can’t remember a time before him.
“Are you buying me a drink?”
“I am buying you a drink. I… it’s been a long time.” He misses you, but the words are caught in his throat.
“It has been a long time. Thank you.” You smile as the bartender hands you another dirty Shirley, and hands Sukuna a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He sips at it, eyes darting over your frame, your sexy body that is so well shown in that dress of yours, all he can think of is unzipping it.
“Where’s the boyfriend?” You blink a bit.
“How’d you know I had one?”
Well, Sukuna’s been insta stalking you but he won’t admit it.
“Heard it from our friends, duh. Just because we don’t see each other doesn’t mean I don’t see them.”
“Yeah well, it’s not like… I didn’t want to see you. We left things…”
“Yeah.” He sighs now, running a hand through pastel locks, a hand with black tattoos and black nails, throwing off this corporate vibe he has, something dark about him, but then, there’s always been. “You single on Valentine’s day?”
“I am, officially. Ass of a boyfriend left me across the street via text. And… are you…”
“Yeah, I also got broken up with, but slapped in the face, and in person. Think they planned the shit?” You giggle, shaking your head and sipping your drink, leaning just a bit closer, one of your legs brushing his, strong muscles of his pressing on yours. He damn near moans just at feeling your body after so, so long.
“Maybe they did. I’ve wanted to see you, though… I just…”
“There’s something I wanted to… tell you. Actually. I thought about calling you, but…”
“Yeah? Calling me?”
“So surprising?”
“You hate me? So yeah.”
Sukuna sighs now, sipping his drink again, looking down into your beautiful eyes, your beautiful face, remembering just all those times he’d ruined it with you. Fuck, since the first moment he met you, he was a dick, and pushed you away, all because the shit he feels terrifies him. And over the years, he’s tried, but he thought you were too far gone, nothing but a regret, a memory.
Something to compare every girl he’s with, never you, are they? There’s no one like you.
But you’re here of all places, and though Sukuna thinks shit like ‘signs’ are the dumbest thing ever, he can’t let this pass, not this time. He takes a breath and his lips part, his fingers then brush your hair back, something far too gentle for Sukuna, something that makes your eyes dilate, your little gasp so sexy he can’t think.
“You trying to fuck me tonight?” You ask, and he chuckles, the gentle brush now a rough grip in your hair, leaning over you.
You taste the whiskey on his breath, you feel his lips so close, your breaths mingling, as your hand comes to his shirt, balling the fancy material in your little fist. “That what you want, brat? Me to fuck you finally?”
“Maybe I do.” He freezes then, blinking long lashes, leaning even closer, free hand gripping your waist in the crowded bar. “A hate fuck? Sounds like the perfect thing to forget tonight.”
“Hate fuck, huh?” What you don’t know is, Sukuna is in love with you.
“Never thought of it? I doubt that. I remember things.” You lean even closer, hand now pulling at the nape of your neck, his other hand pressing against your ribcage, thumb right under the swell of your breasts, shooting desire down your tummy, across your body.
“I remember more, trust me. I need… to tell you shit. Okay? Will your bratty ass listen?”
“Make me.”
“I swear to…” You giggle as he slams his lips on yours, exhaling at how good it feels, god was good the word!? How fucking perfect you feel, mushy things he’ll never admit, his heart thudding in his chest. You whimper, this sound from the back of your throat that has him picturing every sound he’s going to elicit from you tonight.
His lips are firm, but surprisingly gentle for Sukuna, different from the couple of kisses over the years, no it’s too much. His tongue slipping between the seam of your lips, and devouring your mouth. Your arms slip up around his neck, kissing him back, arching toward him more and more. Your years of desire come out, your body reacting to his every movement.
You want him.
He needs you.
He pulls back, taking a breath and smirking. “Fucked out expression how? From a kiss?”
“You’re such a dick, I swear to god.” You shove at him now, as the music from the bar vibrates, beating erratic like your heart.
“Listen… if you can actually listen to me tonight, I’ll make you cum so much you won’t even be able to think about your dumb little ex boyfriend. Yeah?” Your chest heaves up and down with your breaths, vivid images spilling through, his white grin flashes under the neon lights. “Can’t think now?”
“I… fucking… okay. I’ll listen to whatever bullshit you want, I guess.”
“Need me that bad?”
“I’m gonna go-”
“No, shit. Shit, no don’t… stop it.” He holds you to him now, sighing as he looks at your pretty scowl, one that just makes him want you more. “Just give me the night to explain some shit, yeah?”
“Fine. But let’s get out of here after this drink.”
“Desperate to be alone, huh?”
“Y’know, that bartender is kinda cute.” You wink at him then, leaning forward, earning Sukuna yanking at your hair. “Ow! Always did that shit.”
“That’s the first thing I wanted to talk about… the day we met.” You rest your chin on your hand now, hair falling just so as he remembers.
*****
The first time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, 4th/5th grade (Kuna age 11, Y/N age 10)
You were the new girl, a little shy but so pretty. And well, when you came up to Sukuna and smiled, asking where your class was, he couldn’t even speak, he just stood there, mouth flopping like some fish as you waited. His little brother Yuuji finally answered you, staring at his brother in confusion. ‘it’s right there across the hall’.
“Oh, thank you! What’s your name?” You smile at him then, and your smile is just too… annoying, yes, it annoys Sukuna.
“Yuuji, I’m in fourth grade but Sukuna is in fifth. What grade are you in?” He nudges his brother, who rolls his ruby red eyes.
“I’m in fourth too! Oh, so you’re Sukuna then?” You ask sweetly, turning to Sukuna, something happens then, Sukuna blushes. “Are you okay?”
He scowls at you now. “Of course I am, what’re you looking at?” He demanded, and your mouth opened in surprise.
“What?”
“Yeah, stop staring, new kid.” You roll your eyes now, shaking your head with a narrowing of your own eyes.
“You’re pretty rude.”
“You’re pretty weird.” You scoff then, and Yuuji is waving his arms up and down, stepping between you.
“Be nice, Sukuna. Um, can I walk you to class?” You nod then, giving Sukuna a glare, as Yuuji whispers in his ear.
“You’re such a jerk, she’s pretty.”
“Tch, whatever.” Sukuna watches as you walk off with Yuuji then, he does not like whatever it is you just made him feel. He’s thankful you’re not in any of his classes until you walk right into art, and you’re nervously standing near the teacher. She introduces you, and Sukuna finally learns your name.
“You can sit next to Sukuna!” Sukuna crosses his arms, jaw setting, and you look at him, wondering just what his problem is.
You think he’s really cute, for such a jerk, as you sit next to him and peer over at his sketch, which is actually really good. Trying to still be friendly, you let him know- “that’s awesome!”
Sukuna scoffs, covering it up quickly, no one has really seen his art, and your compliment makes him blush. “I didn’t show you.”
You frown now, brows knitting together. “Um, sorry, but it’s so cool. Could I see more?”
“No!”
“Um…”
“Just stop talking, would you? Bad enough I have to sit by you.” Your lower lip trembles, and Sukuna feels horrible now. “I’m… look, I’m-”
“Sorry.” You whisper, sniffling just a bit and looking at the teacher, and Sukuna hates himself then, he keeps wanting to say something, anything, but when he finally catches you in the hall, you glare at him.
How are you even cuter glaring!?
“Leave me alone, you’re a… a jerk!” You say then, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.
“Me, a jerk? Why because I’m not fawning over the new girl?”
“No, because you… just are a jerk!”
“Well you’re a brat.” Sukuna says, and you gasp, turning angrily and clutching your books, Sukuna rubs his hand over his face, sighing then.
He really messed that up.
*****
You swirl your straw around your cup as Sukuna sips on his whiskey, looking far too damn fine you think, and you know it’s not the couple of drinks in your system. It’s just him and who he is, everything about him since day one drew you in, despite his best efforts at being an ass to you. You smile a bit as you remember the day that you met him.
“You were so mean, for no reason.” You muse softly, he sighs then, running a hand through pink strands of slick backed hair.
“Yeah, I was… then when I tried to apologize, you scowled at me.” You giggle then, the sound ending him completely, the way your cute nose scrunches up, god had he ever told you? Has he ever really said a compliment more than a handful of times to you?
“I was mad at you, for sure. My whole life people really liked me, but you didn’t at all, and I couldn’t fix it.”
“People pleaser.” You sigh at that, leaning a bit on your elbow, breasts showing far too much in your pretty neckline.
“I am, for sure.”
“When you laugh…” He trails off now, psyching himself up, taking a breath as he studies you seriously.
“When I laugh…”
“Your nose scrunches up… it’s cute.” He mumbles, almost like he’s in pain, and you giggle again, making him smile just a bit before he realizes it.
“It is!? Is that a compliment from Sukuna?”
“There are a lot of compliments I have for you. But, yeah, it’s annoyingly cute.” Your giggles relax a bit, as you now bite your lower lip, tempting him to kiss you all over again. “The things I can’t wait to do to you.”
That sobers you up, sending chills across your entire body, desire stark on your pretty face. “Oh yeah?” Your little breathy mumble wrecks him, but outwardly he raises a brow.
“Is that your attempt at being nonchalant, brat? Oh yeah?” He mocks, you shove at him then, as he snorts in laughter.
“Is that your attempt at being sexy- ‘can’t wait to show you little brat’ pshh.” You’re mocking him in a deep tone, Sukuna can’t stop the smirk.
“Bet it worked, bet you’re all wet, hmm?” You pause now, biting your lower lip again, teeth leaving marks when he gently pulls it from your teeth’s grip. “Nothing smart to say?”
“Shut up.” Is all you mumble, and he exhales, ruby eyes glinting as they watch you so carefully, studying your every feature. “So is that what you needed to say? My laugh is kind of cute?”
Sukuna clears his throat now, shifting a bit on the barstool, running a thumb down the glass. “No. The day we met, I should have told you that… you were pretty, and sweet. And I was an ass.” You blink in confusion.
“Sukuna, are you dying or something!? Is this some end of life apology tour!? You better not be, I swear to-”
“Shut it.” He stops you now, a fingertip to your lips. “I ain’t dying, calm down, can a man not… speak on some shit?”
“Sure, but it’s you, like my mortal enemy? Bane of my existence? Bully the entirety of school?”
One of his big hands is brushing against your bare thigh now, you look down at it, all tattooed, veiny, huge… making your tummy flip. “Maybe I wanted to be more than that.”
“Yeah?” Your voice is a breathy whisper, you half wonder if you’re in some dream, Sukuna being nice to you!? Being so close after so long?
“Yeah. So another drink, another story?”
“Hmm, do I get another kiss if I listen?” You tease, feeling the liquor make you bold, warming your insides. Sukuna’s lips quirk up on one side, his breath tickling your neck when he leans close, lips almost brushing against it. You feel your pulse flutter when his plump lips touch the shell of your ear just barely, like a fire igniting inside you, more than any liquor could produce.
“I’ll not just kiss you everywhere, I’ll fucking bite you everywhere, lick you all over, every…” His lips kiss your jaw line. “Pretty.” Your neck. “Inch.” He’s right behind your ear, that sensitive spot, kissing and nipping just so, you bite back a cry and fail, earning his chuckle. “You’re so easy f’me, huh brat?”
“Oh f-fuck you…” Your grumble makes him laugh, the sound tickling you as hiegrips your chin, tilting it up to look at him. “You’re the worst.”
“I know, I have been, for all these years. Ya ready for the next story? Then I promise…” He’s trailing his fingers down your thigh now, making your knees literally knock together, tummy clenching with an insane need you’ve only felt once, back on the last day you all really talked to each other. “Then we can head out of here.”
“Better be good, if it’s boring I’ll leave.” Your half hearted promise just makes him throw his head back in laughter, as he orders two more drinks, loosening his tie just a bit, making your thoughts haywire. “Where to, then? What trip down memory lane of bully Sukuna?”
Sukuna tenses just a bit, the things that he’s held in so long threatening to spill. “Middle school… more specifically, seventh grade, Yuuji’s party?”
It’s your turn to tense, at the brutal memory, so long ago. “Oh…”
*****
The second time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, 7th/8th grade (Kuna age 14, Y/N age 13)
 You were boogie skating with these fancy rainbow skates you saved all your allowance for, as all your friends were gathered around, some over at concessions, some at the arcade, some skating alongside you. But Sukuna? He was leaning on the edge of the brightly colored wall, watching no one but you, he could pick you out of anywhere, really.
You were so good at skating too, legs crisscrossing to the beat, your friends and his all murmuring about how good you are at it. You’re giggling as you whisper something to your friend Nobara, her and Yuuji were all best friends, along with Megumi, who was sipping on a coke next to Sukuna and Yuuji.
“She’s really good, isn’t she?” Megumi says, and Sukuna scoffs, shrugging.
“I guess.”
“She’s insane at it, she teaches kids and everything.” Yuuji says.
“You got it so bad for her.” Megumi teases, and then Sukuna tenses a bit, looking at you again, then at his brother, who is blushing.
“Nah, she’s just my friend. She’s so pretty though.”
You and Nobara are hopping off the floor, and Nobara looks right at Sukuna then, blinking her brown eyes and narrowing them. Sukuna wonders at just what you’re telling her, as you nervously bite your lower lip, then you’re waving your arms wildly as Nobara skates over to the three of them, and you tentatively follow, color decorating your cheeks under neon lights.
“Hey, Sukuna.” Nobara says, and he leans back on the wall.
“Yeah, what is it?”
She comes closer then, leaning a little too close. “Do you like her?” She says your name then, and Sukuna glares, stuttering, Megumi and Yuuji snicker in laughter behind him when you approach.
“What kind of question is that?” He says, and Nobara glares now.
“It’s just a question, okay? You can’t keep your eyes off her.” She smirks, and you cover your face in embarrassment.
“Ignore her, please.” You mumble, wanting to fall into a hole then and there, as the loud music blares around the rink.
“Everyone says you have a crush.” Nobara continues.
“You do stare at her all the time…” Megumi says, Sukuna turns away then, crossing his arms, feeling so embarrassed he can’t think.
“You don’t have to answer, Sukuna, it’s okay…” You touch his shoulder then, and just a touch from you ruins his middle school brain, when he looks down at your cute little face. “I figured you didn’t, she just…”
“I don’t, not at all.” He says the words so sharply you yank your hand back like it was burned, eyes wide on him now.
“Okay.” You manage, and Sukuna hates how your face falls then.
“You’re such a jerk! Why do you have to say things like that!?” Yuuji says, and he scoffs.
“Always coming to her defense, aren’t you the one with the crush?”
“He’s my friend, Sukuna.” You say, as Yuuji scowls at his older brother.
“Yeah well, I wouldn’t ask you out if you were the last girl in school.” Your face falls now, and everyone gasps, as there were more kids from your class gathering around. Sukuna falters then, but you cross your arms, scowling.
“Good, because I would never say yes! You’re the last boy in the world I’d ever go out with!” You shout it practically, people are all whispering as you skate off then, fury raging through your veins, and Sukuna stands there, as everyone looks at him with confusion.
“What’s your problem!? She really likes you, you’re so stupid!” Nobara hisses, chasing after you now, and Megumi and Yuuji shake their heads, leaving Sukuna to skate off towards the lockers, hastily taking them off as his mind whirls with what he’s just done to you.
You’ve done nothing but be as nice as you can to him since he’s Yuuji’s brother, but that’s the only reason he thinks you’ve tolerated him at all. He picks on you constantly, he tugs at your hair, he’s even snipped a part of it off in elementary school, he may or may not have kept it.
He throws paper balls at you, he tugs at your shirt and makes fun of you, and even through all of it you’ve not done more than scowl, roll your eyes, tell him off. But Sukuna has it bad for you, in fact he thinks he’s in love with you, but he just becomes more of an idiot as you all are getting older. You affect him more and more as you become prettier and prettier.
He watches the way the light hits your face in class and stares dreamily before you’ll catch him, and he’ll scowl instead. He’s an idiot.
And now he knows he hurt you.
As he’s outside, about to walk home, you’re standing against the wall, covering your face, in tears, when you see him, turning away quickly. Sukuna pauses then, his heart breaking, knowing he’s embarrassed you, but he doesn’t know what to say. He walks up, earning your glare, though your eyes are puffy, and your nose is all red from rubbing it.
“I… I…” He trails off, and you shake your head.
“If your goal is to embarrass me, you succeeded. I should have never told her I liked you…”
Sukuna sputters, mouth opening and closing. “You what!?”
“I don’t anymore, don’t worry.” You rub at your eyes now, sobs catching in your throat when you look up into ruby red eyes, eyes that apparently hate you, but you see something different, something softer.
“Why would you like me?” He asks then, and you want to laugh.
“How would I know? You’re a mean jerk, always have been. Maybe I needed you to be mean like that, to really knock that idiot idea out of my head.” Sukuna feels himself breaking inside now, two hands coming to your shoulders, making you gasp as you tilt your head back to look at him.
He’s already taller than anyone, and the more he grows up the cuter he is, the worse your crush gets. The more you hang out at Yuuji’s house, the more you see him, the more you fall, shit the meaner he is the more you fall. You can’t even find it in you to stay mad at him, when he makes your heart race, when you’re drawing doodles of him and you in your notebook.
You asked Nobara not to say anything, but she was so sure that he liked you back, though you knew he didn’t, you knew he hated you. He has since he met you, and you don’t know what you did.
“Listen, I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean it.” You scoff, shoving at him, his hands fall.
“You don’t need to feel sorry for me. I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.”
Sukuna blinks back his own emotion, gulping. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Then why’d you say it?” You look up at him, when your eyes look at him like that he hates himself so much, knowing he’s just lying to you, to himself.
“I just… everyone was…”
“You care so much what people think, despite acting like you don’t.” Sukuna scowls at you now. “Embarrassed to like me?”
“What!? Why the fuck would it be embarrassing to like you?”
“You tell me. Not pretty enough? Not popular enough? I see who you hang out with. Just forget it, I promise I’ll never say I like you again.” You peek at your phone now, sliding it up, but Sukuna cups your face, leaning close, your eyes dart to his lips, thinking for some insane moment he’d be your first kiss.
No way though.
“You’re pretty, okay? Very pretty.” You pause then, mouth open in a gasp, and Sukuna laughs without humor. “How can you think you’re not?”
“I… um… you…”
“I didn’t mean it.” He steps closer, thumb brushing a tear away from your cheek. “I’m sorry I… made you cry.”
“You always make me cry.” You whisper, and he gulps now.
“Yeah, I do. But this time… I’m really sorry.”
You sigh then, hand touching his wrist, making his own pulse race, as he thinks wildly of kissing you, of something he’s dreamed of since he first found out what it was. “You don’t have to apologize for not liking me back.”
“I-”
“But for saying it like that? Yeah it was mean.”
“Listen…”
“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile sadly, backing off when you see your mom’s car pull up, and Sukuna is left dumbfounded. “Don’t worry, I swear I won’t say it again, I won’t even… think it again.”
You know you’re lying.
Sukuna says nothing as you get in your mom’s car, and she’s asking if you’re okay, he watches her hug you for a moment before she begins to drive, and he sees your eyes full of tears again, streaking down your face. Yuuji walks out front then, nudging him as he watches his brother’s eyes glimmer with what looks like tears.
“Why’d you do it?” Yuuji asks, and Sukuna sighs.
“I don’t know.” He admits, Yuuji puts a hand on his back then.
“You’re a big idiot.”
“Excuse me!?”
“You are.”
He was.
*****
Suddenly all that embarrassment floods you, you tense at the memories, hating how vivid they are, after all these years. You nervously look away, downing the rest of your nearly empty drink in one gulp. Sukuna is quiet then, and you wonder just what his angle is, is he here to embarrass you again? Is this some long term bully shit? Is that an apology tour?
“Are you in therapy and making rounds?” You ask softly, voice breaking, and then you feel his hand wrap the back of your neck, resting his head against yours, making you ache for him.
“I don’t feel bad for shit I’ve done, ever, except what I’ve done to you.” You look at him, he’s too close, far too close. He sees your emotions mirroring his own, and it breaks him. “I should have never fucking done it.”
“Sukuna, we were in middle school. It’s fine.”
“It’s not though, because it was such a blatant lie. God how did you not know how bad I was down for you?” You suck in a breath, shaking your head quickly, and hopping off the barstool.
“You’re lying! What even is this shit.” Sukuna pulls you between his thighs, brushing your hair back behind your ear as you tremble. “Sukuna…”
“I am not lying, but I was then, an idiot kid who was mean as shit to you.”
“Why were you so mean?”
“I’m trying to get there. Can you keep listening?” You shake your head, sniffling. Now, it’s just like being back there, back on that day where you were so embarrassed you could hardly face anyone.
“I can’t handle this shit… it’s things I’ve shoved so far back…”
“I know.” Sukuna’s strong thighs are under your tiny little hands, pressing against his muscles under the expensive fabric, as everything fades in the world but him, but the longing that’s eating you both up from the inside. Your breaths come quicker when he looks at you, that intense way, with his arrogant smirk finally not on his face, just once.
“Why do you wanna do this, rehash it?” You ask now, leaning even closer, until you’re right against his body, and he’s bending low.
“I need to tell you some important shit, I just need you to listen. Do I need to reward your bratty ass for some patience?” There’s that smirk.
“Maybe, I offered to hook up, not go through yearbooks.”
“Fine, so let’s get out of here, let you get some air, and we’ll continue. I’ll… take care of you, hmm?”
“Yeah, think you could?” He snorts, rolling his ruby eyes, hopping down, towering right over you, taking over your every sense.
“You ask dumb fucking questions, I think that’s the one thing you know I could do…” He leans right down, cupping your face. “Ruin you for anyone.”
“Big talk.” You’re so full of shit, your body is on fire, your heart is pounding out of your chest, the clothes feel too tight, everything swirls around you.
“You know it’s not.” Sukuna pays for the tab then, walking you out, the cool night air hits you, making you shiver, so he wraps a jacket around your shoulders, shocking you. “You think I’m that much of a dick?”
“Yes.” He laughs then, that booming laugh that makes him throw his head back, as you snuggle against his jacket, inhaling the expensive scent of musky cologne. “You have nice taste though.”
“Bet you do too. A nice taste.” He pulls you against his hard chest, feeling your soft breasts press against him, making his cock hard just from that. “Wanna know how badly I’ve wanted to?”
“T-taste me?” You whisper, all bravado and teasing gone, the breeze gently blowing your hair around as you wait for his driver.
“Fuck yes. Should I right here, brat?” He slips his hand under the lapels of the jacket, slipping over your dress and slipping it up, as people walk in and out of the busy little dive bar. You feel yourself so wet you’ve made a werspot in your panties, panties his thumb finds slowly.
“Right h-here?” You whisper nervously, when his driver pulls up in a whole fucking limo, you blink in surprise at it, as his hands fall.
“You’d let me, so desperate.” You glare again, making him grin. “I love when you scowl at me.”
“Are you feeling okay!? And a limo, pretentious.” You eagerly slide in with his help though, seeing everything one could dream of, as he leans over, pulling out a bottle of champagne, raising a brow, the slits in it just making him sexier, damn him. “You just ride in a limo?”
“Why not? I have these long legs, and I like to be comfortable.”
“Psh…” He pours you a glass of champagne then, and you eye a little white baggie curiously, along with a bag of weed. “Damn you partying everywhere?”
“On occasion, usually this shit is for clients though.” You giggle a bit, sipping the champagne. “I would never offer coke, but you smoke?”
“No, not really. I did once and it made me so stupid.”
“Fair enough.” He closes up the little open box, arm over you casually, kissing his way up your neck carefully, enjoying your sighs of pleasure. “Do you want a reward for listening to two stories?”
“Hmm, what do I get? A gold star?” He smirks, shaking his head and kissing you, the tart of the champagne swapping between your tongues, the kiss is slow, sensual, before it builds, and he’s setting down your glasses. He’s got you on his lap so quickly your head spins, and you’re grinding on his length, gasping in pleasure, your head falling back.
“Holy… f-fuck…” He huffs, all bravado gone when he feels your slick warmth through the layer of his dress pants. “You’re that hot?”
“Am I?” You can’t think, not when you feel his length pressed, making you whimper, which he chuckles at, nipping your collarbone between his teeth.
“That little whine? Fuck… pathetic.”
“I hate you.” You grumble then, shoving at him, but he holds you by your hips, pressing you against him harder. “Let me go, ass.”
“I like you pathetic, sweet, whiny. Sexy as fuck.” You are dragged back down for a kiss, your teeth clicking with the intensity, as you roll your hips more and more, and he slips those hands up, the veins popping out when he grabs you bruisingly. “Everything about you is made to drive me insane.”
“You’re saying insane shit, Sukuna. Is this a booty call, a hate fuck… or…” You pause, gasping as he thumbs your clit over your panties, pressing against the damp fabric, making you whimper again, eyes rolling back.
“Ya think that’s all I want? No, brat, the reason I didn’t do shit… is because… I know I’ll never be able to fuckin’ stop.” You’re flipped under him, back pressing against the seat, as he hovers over you. You yank his tie down, slamming his lips against yours, hungry lips that drink every moan you have when his hand slips between your thighs, yanking your thong to the side.
“Kuna…” He groans, slipping fingers up and down your slit, you’re trembling now, breaths quicker and quicker.
“Need something, brat?” Your brows lower, you have an insult on the tip of your tongue when his finger tip presses your tight entrance, and then Sukuna loses it, shoving his finger all the way in, moaning. “You’re this fuckin tight?”
“Ngh…” You can’t manage an answer, not when he’s crooking his finger just so, pressing that little spot inside you, finding it better than any boyfriend could just the first time, and your walls are gripping his thick digit, while your hand still clutches his tie.
“There it is, ha- feel her, fuck.” Sukuna is simultaneously in control and losing control as he plays you, curling his fingers in syrupy wetness, making you fall apart under him, hips bucking when his thumb presses your clit again. “Like both, that pussy so slutty f’me?”
“S-slutty…” Your brain short circuits, when he slips in two, stretching you out, your dress scrunched up over your hips, he hovers over you, watching every expression on your pretty face avidly.
“That’s it… let go, huh? Make a fucking mess.” You’re panting, you’ve never cum from just fingers like this, not when he’s building that tension, pressing two up and rubbing your clit, until you’re reaching higher and higher. “Feel it, feel her, she wants to cum, just let her, huh?”
“F-fuck!” You scream out then, kissing him deeply, desperately, as he makes your pussy convulse around him, orgasm washing through you in waves, until you’re weak and boneless under him, twitching cunt gripping his fingers, so slick you hear it.
“That’s it, there you go.” He rubs his fingers up and down your slit now, easing up, sucking your juices off his fingers, cheeks hollowing. You gulp at the sight, of the sexiest fucking thing you’ve seen, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Can’t wait to bury my face, eat you so good you pass the fuck out.”
“Wh-what? You…” You can’t function, from fingers, when he kisses you again, slower, letting you taste yourself.
“Can’t wait to make you stupid. Fuck your brains out. Be nothing but me, brat, yeah?” His husky voice, his tight grip, his brutal kisses destroy you, they’re not the kiss you shared last time, not even close, he’s letting go, he’s ending you.
“K-Kuna…” He exhales now, easing off you as he helps you up, your coat having fallen onto the seats, leaving him to caress your bare arms gently.
“Feel better, brat? So needy.” You smack at him, only making him laugh just a bit. “Wanna know what I should’ve told you then?”
“Shit… forgot all of that.” You blink rapidly, disoriented.
“Cock drunk off fingers? So easy.”
“You know, drop me off-”
“Hush, brat.” He yanks you up, sitting you right on his lap, but this time sideways, sipping his drink and then holding the glass to your lips, you sip greedily, sighing and finding your arms wrapping around his neck, as he pulls you even closer against him, burying his face against your neck.
“What did you need to tell me then, Kuna?” You whisper, getting weaker by the moment, the orgasm destroying you, and making you wonder…
What would his dick be like?
His mouth?
If his fingers casually do that?
“I should have told you…” He exhales, pulling you close, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent greedily. “That I did have that crush, fuck way more than that, you were all I could think of. You still are.”
You still now, pulling back a bit, as your eyes lock in the led lit limo, your breaths mingling as they come quicker and quicker. “Y-you liked me?”
He shakes his head. “That wasn’t even the word. There’s a stronger word… one that terrified me then. I was a little ass, a shithead.”
“Yeah you were.”
He glares, pinching your hip then, making you yelp. “Can’t wait to occupy that bratty fucking mouth.”
“Oh yeah? Gonna shut me up?” You whisper, earning his cock leaking precum now, god only you could have this effect on him.
“I’ll shut you up, have your voice hoarse, shove my cock so deep.” You whimper, shifting, and he kisses you again, brutal and rough, teeth almost making your lower lip bleed, his grip on your hips pressing so deep you can’t breathe. “Hoarse from screaming, from my cock stretching your throat, so fucked out you won’t be able to sit or walk.”
“This is a lot of talk, Kuna. How many more fucking stories before you back it up, hmm?” You demand, voice breathy, he smiles then.
“Three.”
“Oh come on!”
“Shut it, brat. You ain’t gonna die, ain’t had my dick this long.”
“Well hurry your mean bully stories up.” You earn a gentle smack on your cheek, only making you whine out, as you smack him back, making him die for you, kissing you again before he remembers.
He needs to tell you it all.
“Make 'em quick, dammit.”
“Slutty brat.” He earns another smack, grinning, white teeth glinting. “Fine, fine… how about that time we kissed in high school?”
You heat up then. “Oh…”
*****
The third time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, junior/sophomore year of HS- (Kuna age 17, Y/N age 16)
By this time, Sukuna already had a reputation, he was the bad boy, always in and out of trouble. He rode a ridiculous motorcycle around, and he always had the new flavor of his month on the back of it. You barely even knew a girl who hadn’t made out with Sukuna… or probably more, but you were not one to care.
Sukuna and you went from enemies to nothing. He quit picking on you, and in some fucked, weird way you missed it, any of his attention. Walking through the halls and seeing him with his arm around a new girl all the time filled you with some odd sensation you didn’t wanna think of.
It’s a party over at Gojo’s house tonight, his parties were kind of ridiculous because of just how rich he was, and he damn near lived all alone. There was an insane amount of people there, as you navigated the party with a red solo cup in your hands, so nervously, Yuuji came bouncing over to you waving with his happy little grin on his face.
“Hey!” He shouts your name, Megumi follows in tow, smiling just a bit, a mere quirk of the corner of his lips.
“Hey Yuuji, Megumi. Where’s Nobara?”
“She’s over there, about to play… suck and blow.” Yuuji snickers now, you giggle at him and roll your eyes, looking over as people are sucking on a debit card, passing it in a circle, you see Gojo there, kissing a girl then, making you blush a bit as they really go at it.
“Oh… that game sounds…”
“Germ ridden.” Megumi declares with a shiver, you snort in laughter then.
“Yes, germ ridden.” You agree, then your heart stops as Sukuna is right in the mix, he’s towering over everyone but Gojo, as he passes the card to and from the girls on either side of him. For some reason, every time you see him you get this feeling, it’s not butterflies, it’s vicious moths, aggressive and beating you. 
Yes, moths you think. Sukuna didn’t give butterflies.
He smirks at you like he just knows something all the time, and nothing could be more irritating. Seeing you now, Gojo shouts your name, waving you three over to the game, the table in front of them was littered with shot glasses and fallen empty cups. “Hey sweets!”
“Satoru, hey!” He gives you a big hug.
“Mwah!” You giggle as he kisses your forehead, Satoru Gojo is a touchy feely friend to damn near everyone, including Sukuna. “Thanks for coming, I know it’s not your scene.”
“I totally snuck out for this, it better be good.” You tease, and Satoru wiggles his brows, brushing back silky white hair, as Sukuna scowls at the gesture. He hated just how touchy he was with the girl Sukuna so secretly pined for.
But you certainly didn’t know he did, in fact Sukuna kept it such a good secret you thought he straight up hated you. Although the picking on you eased up some as you all got older, you’re just getting prettier, sweeter, smarter. You don’t hang out as much with Yuuji, and Sukuna misses you there. He has one class with you and he thinks he’s maybe said a handful of things to you this year.
“You can stand right… here.” Satoru moves another girl over between Yuuji and Megumi, and puts you smack dab between him and Sukuna, making you tense up as you look at him.
“Hah, why her?” Sukuna says then, your fists clench at your sides, Satoru lets out a little laugh.
“Prefer me next to you, baby boy?” He blows a kiss at Sukuna, and he grimaces, earning the laughter of everyone around, except you, feeling just how much Sukuna still can’t stand your presence, for whatever reason.
“God no, okay fine.”
“Yes, I know it's so terrible, huh?” You mumble, Satoru hands you the card then with a smirk.
“No way, you’re the best partner. Get started missy.” You suck on it then, pressing it between your lips and Satoru’s, as each of you passed the card. Along the way it falls across from you, and two people have to make out, everyone else has a drink. You cough just a bit at the burn of this god awful punch you’re sipping then, and Sukuna gives you that sardonic ass look.
“Can’t handle a drink, brat?”
“No, I never have…” He blinks a bit then.
“Oh, shit… why-”
“Pay attention, Sukuna.” Gojo calls, and he turns then, sucking on the card, then bending low, one hand brushing your shoulder as he blows the card on your lips, then you turn and go to blow the card onto Gojo’s as the card clatters to the table.
‘Ooooh’ everyone’s whispering and giggling as Satoru bends low, tilting your chin up to look up into his pretty blue eyes, Sukuna’s fury grows with every second, as he’s never seen you with anyone, thank god.
He could almost pretend you were his, that he didn’t get in his own way, that he doesn’t long after you for every moment of every day until this very moment. When Satoru leans down and kisses you, he feels it like a punch to the gut, something nauseating, seeing his hands on you.
His lips on yours.
Sukuna is downing a shot and having to look away when Satoru’s hand entangles in your hair at the nape of your neck. He’s never wanted so badly till take someone the fuck out, and for what? You’re not his, you probably never would be, it’s not like he has any reason to be this upset. But…
You’re gasping as Satoru kisses you deeply, slipping his tongue in between your lips, and your tummy flutters as he does. Satoru’s breath is sweet, and little does he know yet, he’s your first kiss, then and there in front of countless people. He pulls back with a little smile, his snowy lashes lower over his eyes, as you try to gather yourself, he leans in against your ear.
“You’re a good kisser, sweets.” You smile a bit, laughing breathlessly.
“My first.”
“No way!?” He pulls back and blinks a bit, eyes looking at the huge, furious pink haired man behind you. Satoru smirks mischievously, it’s no secret to him or any of Sukuna’s friends how bad he has it. “I’ll keep it secret.”
Satoru crosses his chest with his fingers in the sign of a cross, and you exhale in relief. “Thank you. Shots?”
“Shots!” You both down shots with everyone, and then Satoru picks up the game again, as you turn just a bit to see Sukuna glaring down at you.
“Something wrong?” You ask curiously, and he laughs then, a mocking sound, shaking his head.
“Why would shit be wrong?”
“Right, you didn’t have to kiss me.” You say with a pat on his arm, and he gulps down more of his drink, before his hand crushes the solo cup.
“Tch.” He says nothing as the card hits him again, and you almost assume it will fall, that he’ll kiss someone, but it doesn’t, not until it hits you, then the card clatters to the fucking ground, leaving you looking up at him wide eyed.
“Oooh, those two!?” Someone says, and everyone stares at you both, it’s obvious Sukuna’s a bully to you, and that you can’t stand him.
“Two kisses in one game already?” Satoru teases, you bite your lip then, looking at Sukuna’s mouth, set in a line.
“You don’t have to.” You say softly, and Sukuna snatches you up against him then, shocking you, your eyes fly to his.
“Think I’m scared, brat?” He whispers.
“I think you don’t want to.” You whisper back, and you expect it, some retort of his, but he slams his lips down on yours, taking over every sense you’ve ever had, tasting your lips and tongue as he devours you then. It’s not sweet and sensual like Satoru, it’s full of everything he’s ever felt, pouring in your lips.
Your hand slides up his arm, across a bicep, thumb brushing it when his two hands find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer. He kisses you hard and brutal, his hands tightening to a bruising touch as he practically growls into your mouth, his tongue moving against yours. You don’t even know what you’re doing, but it feels all consuming.
It’s wild and fiery, and you can feel his heart slamming in his chest, his breathing heavy as yours come in shallow pants, and it’s like everything stops around you. You can’t remember everyone is watching you, can’t be embarrassed when a hand slips up your spine, and he tilts his head to get better access to your mouth. You can’t hear any of the whispers, not with your heart pounding in your ears.
You don’t know why you’re kissing him back with such fervor, why your arms are wrapped around his neck, the boy you hate, right? The boy who’s made school awful at times, who loves to fuck with you almost every day, you think maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the thrill of it all, but as your kiss ends you know you’re wrong. Kisses don’t feel like this, do they?
He pulls back, damn near ready to tear into you here and there in front of everyone, something feral happening to him, Sukuna has already been with a couple of girls, but he never felt anything more intense than kissing you, then seeing your reddened plump lips, swollen from him. It drives his high school brain absolutely erratic, when he cups your face, looking how small you are compared to him.
He pictures lifting you and-
“Okay, okay… calm down or get a room.” Satoru teases, as Yuuji and Megumi have their jaws on the damn floor. 
Everything is spinning now, not from the alcohol but from that kiss, from the intensity of his emotions crashing into yours. You pull away, panting, and his eyes are so dark then, his pupils dilated with something you’ve never seen before. Is it… desire? Is it… curiosity? It feels like something more… something…
You blush furiously, clearing your throat when you realize you’re just standing there with your mouth open, in front of an entire party. Sukuna doesn’t stop staring at you, in fact he can’t rip his eyes off you, nor does he take his hands off you, as you tremble now, goosebumps where his touch still sits on your skin.
“I need some air… too many kisses.” You manage, before running out then, struggling to get a breath, the tiny amount of alcohol is coursing through your veins, mixing with the heat from Sukuna’s kisses.
You’re inhaling the night air greedily, looking up at the starry sky, shaking your head as you cover your overheated face. You’d kissed Satoru and Sukuna, and Satoru had been so fun, so sweet and exciting. But what the actual heck was that with Sukuna!? What was this feeling you can’t shake, you can’t cope with!?
Sukuna dies to go after you, to finish everything he started, to kiss your face, your neck, perhaps more if you were ready. He would be happy just kissing you though, nothing else, if you offered just that, because he’s never felt it. Satoru, Suguru and his other friends are all snickering at him now.
“Go after her, Romeo.” Suguru says, and Sukuna glares at him.
“What? Why?”
“C’mon man, we all saw. Looked like you’d eat her.” Satoru says.
“In more ways than one?” Suguru chimes in, earning Sukuna’s angry glare, he shakes his head then. “Oh stop this… she’s hot, why not go for it?”
“She’s the bane of my existence. A kiss doesn’t change that.”
“She’s available then?” Satoru asks teasingly, as you’re walking back up, getting a drink poured by Nobara.
“Of course she is… it was just a kiss in a game.” You hear him then, and Nobara instantly has her hand comfortingly on your back.
“Don’t pay attention, he clearly was into you.” She murmurs, Satoru eyes you both then, before looking back at Sukuna.
“So if I ask her out you’re cool with it buddy?” He teases with a big grin.
“If you what!?”
“Mmm, ask her out. If you don’t even like her that way?” Sukuna sputters now, and everyone’s whispering about him, about the kiss.
“Why ask me?” He huffs with disdain, and you quietly join back in, this time on the other side of Satoru, Sukuna notices it furiously, making a show of kissing the next girl as the card drops again.
You hate how you feel about it, about him.
As you’re dancing later with Satoru, you watch him sitting on the couch with two girls on his lap, but his eyes are laser focused on you, every motion you make with your hips in a figure eight motion. You feel his eyes like a brand on your skin, like he’s undressing you with them, but he doesn’t come near you, you’re both just across the room, with the energy between you.
The amount of times Sukuna replays this in his mind over and over, the kiss that destroyed him. But instead of telling you how he feels, he says nothing, watching as you move on, and as he pretends he is as well, but is he really? Will he ever be?
*****
You’re remembering the kiss vividly, Sukuna watches your eyes go fuzzy, as you both pull up to his place. You just sit there, nervously shiting in his lap. “Those were… my first kisses. Isn’t that insane?”
“What was insane was that I wanted to kill him for kissing you, I wanted to kill anyone who touched you, kissed you.”
“You did?” You ask softly, he nods then, smirking just a bit.
“Best kiss I had.”
“What!?”
“I should have told you. Not acted like…
“A dick?”
“That mouth, brat.” He is glaring as you giggle. “I acted like I didn’t care, but I did… and your bratty ass dated Satoru after that!?”
“Well, he was sweet and asked me out. What’d you expect me to wait for you to figure it out?”
“Yes.” You both laugh softly then, his strokes up and down your spine making you long for more and more of him, every bit of his body, his touch, his heart.
“Three stories down, why don’t I…” You trail your fingers down his dress shirt, over his rippling abdomen. “Return that favor?”
“Killing me, brat.” He exhales, and soon you’re kissing in his elevator, as you ride up to his fancy penthouse, your breath catching at it. “Ya like?”
“Damn, you’re like rich!?”
Sukuna throws his head back, sliding his jacket off you then, eyeing your skin hungrily, thinking of all the ways he wants to kiss it, bite it, taste it. “Yeah, I’m fucking rich.”
“So humble too.”
“Why should I be? Fuck that.” He then hands you a glass of water, making your eyes narrow.
“Rich as fuck and I get water!?”
“It’s Evian.”
“Psh, where’s the liquor stash?”
He brushes your hair back then, gently. “Want you fully aware for the last two stories, yeah? Then you can have another if you want.”
“Yes, dad.” You tease, then his nostrils flare, making your lips turn up as you watch his reaction. “You like to be called Daddy don’t ya, freaky Kuna?”
Sukuna’s scowl just deepens, as he crosses his arms. “Oh shut that mouth, swear to god.”
“Shut me up- mnh!” Sukuna’s grabbed you right under your chin, squeezing your throat just so, as his free hand grips your ass.
“You listen to this one, I’ll let you suck me. And the last one, I’ll finally lick that pretty pussy.” You whine when he finds your slick heat over your panties, everything going just a little fuzzy. “Fuck you in positions you’ve never heard of.”
“All talk.” He lets you go, shaking his head, kissing you deeply again, you are falling into it, into how good he feels, letting it all surround you.
“Ya know I’m not, admit it.”
“Shush.” You take your water with a shaky hand, drinking it then.
“Good girl.”
Good girl!?
You can’t handle that from him, can’t handle the heat pouring between your thighs, in your tummy, making you ache for him more and more. “This story was about a time you didn’t have water, and you were all over me.”
You draw a blank then, shaking your head. “Psh, what!?”
“Mmhmm. Come, sit down.” He guides you over to an elegant living room, with a spacious black couch, everything sleek and modern, floor to ceiling windows overlooking the night sky.
“Beautiful.” You murmur softly, touching the clear glass for just a moment, he comes up behind you, kissing across your neck.
“I’ll fuck you on this window, let everyone have a show.”
“What!?”
“Let ‘em know you’re mine this time.”
“Sukuna!” You are dragged to the couch, sat down right next to him, his arm around you.
“Sip more water. So thirsty.”
“I really hate you.”
“You say that…”
“Yeah.” He tilts your chin up with two fingers, pressing his lips over yours over and over, little sweet kisses you don’t expect. “Mmm, so… remember your first frat party?”
“Barely! Oh shit I think I got drunk.”
“Oh yeah you did.
*****
The fourth time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, your senior year HS, his Freshman year college (Kuna age 19, Y/N age 18)
“Y’know… S-Sukuna… fuck you’re kinda hot!?” You’re stumbling as you speak to Sukuna that night, dressed in some mini skirt and crop top, showing everything. You make him furious, showing that body that seems to get prettier every year, the top showcasing far too much of your pretty breasts, the skirt showing too much of your sexy thighs.
Thighs he’d die to have wrapped around his head.
“What now, brat?” He demands, and you giggle, clearly shitfaced, you never partied so you’re an insane lightweight. And your friend is currently making out in a corner, leaving you stumbling over to him in heels that make no sense for you, for the girl he’s known so long. “What’s with the skank fit?”
“Fuck you I’m hot.” You giggle, doing a spin, and then nearly falling, Sukuna catches you with an arm around your waist, warm body pressed against his.
“That alcohol spiking that confidence?”
“Jus’ because you don’t think- m’hot doesn’t mean… m’not k?” You toss down your drink, giggling breathlessly, looking up at him with dilated eyes.
“When have I said you’re not?” He asks softly, guiding you away from the crowd, from the eyes of too many hungry frat boys. You somehow end up on his lap, arms around his neck, giggling and scrunching that cute ass nose of yours.
“You’ve said m’pretty like once. In middle school? Thass it, Kuna.”
“God, don’t call me that, drunky.” He brushes your hair back then, and you pause, inhaling just a bit, sudden clarity in a brief drunk haze. “You’re the prettiest brat there is, yeah? You’re gonna forget this. So fuck it.”
“The prettiest brat?” You repeat, and he smiles, nodding, before hissing when you shift, straddling him.
“The fuck are you doing!?” He demands, hands pressing on your waist, while you lean your face low, breath against his lips.
“Jus- wanna kiss. Or more… always wanted you to be-”
“Shh, stop.” He puts a hand on your mouth, shaking his head. “You’re shitfaced, don’t go saying dumb shit.”
You lick at his palm, giggling again, moving your hips, he feels your heat against his cock over his jeans, making him throb then. He was no virgin, far from it, but you make him blush. You make him tremble, and he hates this effect, that you so casually have, and don’t even know you possess.
Since he met you, you’ve done things to him, things that have him jerking it to images of you, memories of you. Practicing all the ways he’d take that virginity of yours back in the day, knowing he was a fucking idiot. Thinking of how he’s stretch that surely tight little hole, how he’s make you his.
But you dated boys, he dated girls.
You lived your life in your lane, he lived his.
You both rarely crossed, aside from your friendship with his brother and mutual friends, he doesn’t think he’d see you. He barely does now, and the way you’re looking at him addles his mind, short circuits his brain chemistry. God the things he wants to do with you…
But…
“You’re trashed.”
“I’m pretty to you.” You murmur, lips far too close, he can practically taste jello shots on you.
“You are.” He figures fuck it, what’s it matter?
You won’t remember.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, finally, after so many years, and you blink rapidly, sobering up almost it seemed, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks as they lower, as you take a breath.
“You think so?” You whisper.
“I know so, fuck who doesn’t?” He holds you still when you wiggle. “Don’t fucking do that, please.”
“Don’t wanna fuck me, Kuna? Don’t you fuck whoever?”
“Fuck you…” He trails off. Fucking you isn’t what he’d do, and he damn well knows it too well.
He’d lose himself in you.
“You wanna fuck me so bad, hmm?” He asks, husky voice breaking.
“What do you think?” You grind on him, his head falls back, moaning as you kiss up his throat, making his hands grip you bruising. “Haven’t I wanted to for s’long, Kuna… wanted y’inside me…”
“Shut the fuck up.” He shoves at you again, ruby eyes narrowing as he looks at your flushed cheeks and glittery eyes. “You’re drunk.”
“So?”
“So you need to get home. Nobara.” She looks up at the shout of her name, eyes wide when she sees you, gently pulling you now.
“Come on baby.”
“No, he wants me, look at him.” You giggle again, and Nobara can’t stop the smirk on her face.
“He does, but… you’re too tired, yeah?” You look at her, then Sukuna, yawning then and nodding as she eases you up.
“Am I?”
“You are. Say goodnight, remember you can’t stand Sukuna, yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” You blink again, stumbling against your friend, Sukuna’s hand cups your face gently.
“Good night, drunk brat.” He kisses your head, shocking you even in your drunk state, before looking at Nobara. “Got a ride?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Sukuna…” She whispers then.
“Hmm?”
“Just let her go if you don’t want to be with her. She deserves more than this… pining away for you.” Sukuna gulps at Nobara’s words.
“I…”
“She’s amazing, you know.”
“Yeah, I fucking know. Trust me.” She sighs, as you snuggle to her, blissfully unaware of the conversation, just mumbling how good Nobara smells.
“She wants to go to another university, but she’ll go here to see you. Let. Her. Go.” Sukuna watches you stumble away, feeling it like a knife to his chest.
God it was difficult to let you go, but were you wasting your chances for someone like him?
*****
“I literally don’t remember it…” You murmur softly then, while Sukuna’s fingers run lazily over your shoulders, sipping more water. “I think I remember sitting on your lap but it’s a blur?”
“Yeah, it was… hard…”
You’re laughing then. “Sorry!”
“Hard in many ways, sure. To turn this down?” You heat up under his praise now, so open for you.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Look at you.” You’re kissing him then, again, you could just keep kissing Sukuna, forever and ever you feel like. Like nothing could rip you from him, when you’re straddling his lap like that night, and he’s exhaling against your lips.
“What was the thing you should’ve said?” You whisper, rolling your hips, grinding your pussy on his shaft, he groans, kissing down the plump curve of your breast, sinking his teeth and making your head fall back.
“I did say it…” He grins, looking at the little teeth marks in your skin.
“Wh-what was it?”
“That you’re beautiful, and fuck you are.” You whimper when he yanks down your top, revealing your puffy nipples, taut and perky with want. “Oh my… fuck…”
He’s sucking one into his hot mouth now, your hands entangled in pastel locks, hips rocking for more and more, he’s dying to sink into you, and you’re dying for him to fill you. “Thank you, Kuna… and… did I say anything that…”
“You kept saying how hot I am.”
“You are, fuck you are. Sexiest man I’ve seen.”
“Damn, simp much?”
“Hate you!” You shove at him and he’s chuckling, kissing back down your breasts, sighing.
“You don’t hate me, shut it. Should we put that mouth to better fucking use?” He asks, and you nod eagerly. “You’re gonna obey that easily? Want it so bad?”
“Oh fuck you and your stories.” You slip down, one knee on one side of him, as you unzip him slowly, he hisses when his cock juts out of the jeans, of his boxers, so heavy and thick. You pause briefly, blushing when you see it, a tattoo around the base of his fucking cock, and a piercing on the tip.
“Cat got your tongue, slut?”
“Slut? You have a slutty tattoo on your slutty dick. And this? This…” You moan then, kneeling between his thighs spread, looking up at him so pretty then his heart flips in his chest, he’s as nervous if not more than he was when he was a virgin. Looking how beautiful you are, face resting on his thigh.
“Then put this slutty cock in your slutty mouth, huh?” You eagerly do as he says, taking him into your mouth slowly, teasing the piercing with your tongue, tasting his precum, salty and bitter, coating your tastebuds. “Mmgh, yeah, like that, pretty little whore.”
His words really should infuriate you, but you love it, jerking his hips up as you suck harder, faster, feeling his hands tighten in your hair, and god he’s losing his fucking mind, and it’s all because of you.
You love it, love the way he’s looking at you with lidded ruby eyes, as he fucks up into your mouth, alternating between gently cupping your cheek and shoving your throat down on his cock, all while looking at you. His eyes never leave your face, you hear his breaths, feel him tense. It’s intoxicating, feeling his cock swell and pulse in your mouth, feeling his eyes on you, watching you take him deep.
“So pretty, look at you, taking cock s’good. S’hungry for it, huh?” He’s mumbling now, trying to be so sure, so dominating of you, and he does, but he’s vulnerable, as your little fingers press against his thighs, as you’re sucking him so deeply. You breathe through your nose, feeling him get harder, impossibly harder, as you take him more and more.
Your cunt is pulsing around nothing, thinking of everything you’ve wanted, listening to him mumbling praise, watching that red streak from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. To make Sukuna blush was something so heady you couldn’t explain it, not as you keep sucking, as you slip his dress shirt up just a bit, revealing the hard, perfect planes of his abdomen.
“Fuck, you’re good at that, hmm?” He whispers, his eyes half lidded, his voice gruff and rough, so fucking sexy, and you moan around his cock, nodding. He’s so fucking big and it’s a struggle to take him all in, but you’re keep trying to, go even deeper, watching his breath hitch, his hips buck upwards. He keeps whispering your name until he yanks you off.
“Lemme suck you off, Kuna.” You plead, and he laughs insanely now, shaking his head as he looks down at you.
“Ya gotta be that good at this!? I’m mad you ever sucked anyone.” He grumbles, glaring now, you pout as he pulls you off, hands firm on your ass when he sits you back on him, and now he’s adjusting himself back in.
“Really!? Not another story, Kuna… I need to tell you my own shit.” You murmur, he puts a finger to your lips, shaking his head.
“I’m almost done, last story yeah? Then…” He rubs your cunt over your panties, so damp they’re sticking to your plump lips pathetically. “Then I’ll make her feel so fucking good, so good I promise.”
“You suck.” You say with a pout, earning another smirk as you try to catch your breath, leaning back against him. “Okay, one more, and only one.”
“You’re such a little-”
“Kuna…”
“A little… pretty ass bitchy ass-”
“Sukuna, I swear to god I’ll hit you.”
“Yeah?” He raises a brow.
“You’re a little bitch.”
“Swear to-”
“I should go.”
“You aren’t going any fucking where. C’mere.” He yanks you back down, as you huff in anger. “I’ll give her what she needs, have some patience. All fuckin night and day, just wait a little longer, huh?”
“F-fine.” You look down demurely, as Sukuna sighs, shutting his eyes.
“The last time we saw each other. Remember?”
“Shit…”
*****
The fifth time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, your Sophomore year of college, his Junior (Kuna 21, Y/N 20)
You weren’t even in the same college as Sukuna, but you still saw him, from time to time. You were close with Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara, and that meant sometimes seeing Sukuna, a girl on either side of him as he’s throwing pong balls into cups, and everyone is cheering for him.
Jock Sukuna.
Frat leader Sukuna.
Asshole hoe ass Sukuna.
You resent him, you hate it but you do, he’s popular and still somehow a huge asshole, he hasn’t changed a damn bit and people fawned over him, girls were all lining up for their turn, all except you. You’re glad you went to a different university, even if you missed your friends, it means you got to miss him being such a whore blatantly in front of the world.
He kissed one, then the other, like they’re both his girlfriends, chuckling until he catches sight of you.
You.
You make his heart race, wanting to thump right out of his fucking chest, tightening it so bad he can’t breathe for a moment. You’re in this gorgeous little dress, too fancy and pretty for some stupid ass frat party. He watches the eyes of everyone on you avidly as you smile, starting to get surrounded by his curious frat brothers, making his murder instincts kick into high gear.
When would everyone figure out you’re his? Shit, when would either of you figure it out, that this is what it was?
That he was in love with you.
That he’s been in love with you, since the first day you ran into the hall, over ten years back, when you’d had hurt in your eyes and your lower lip trembled. Loved you every minute of every day, and every day he falls deeper and deeper into being an idiot, drowning you away with cheap beer and endless annoying girls. Girls he couldn’t care less about, but they were safe bets.
They weren’t you.
Your eyes catch his across the room, sipping on your drink then, smiling up as your friends come to talk to you. Sukuna has maybe seen you three times this entire year, and he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t miss, god he misses picking on you, he misses that scowl you give him, the way you cross your arms.
He leaves the girls next to him, much to their dismay, walking up to you now, and your lips part as your drink sits just a bit down by your side, looking up at him with eyes that haunt his every fucking dream. Your body looks so good he can’t help but picture it naked in every position under him, while he says your name softly.
“Hey, Sukuna.” You manage to sound casual, while he’s shirtless, his already chiseled body buffer than you remember, tattoos already on his abdomen and wrists, ones that weren’t there before, that just make him sexier.
Fuck Sukuna.
Fuck him for being all you think about even now, when you have college, a part time job, a whole life. And you lay there, and think of him, picture him in ways that make you touch yourself, not knowing he’s jerking it in his dorm room to you, sometimes simultaneously, but of course neither of you has figured any of it out.
Clueless.
“You should… play?” He suggests, your brows draw together in confusion.
“Why are you being friendly?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” You sigh then, shaking your head and walking away, making his jaw clench. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused.” You stomp away, and Sukuna chases you, into a room now, shutting the door behind you, you peek around and realize you’re somehow in his room when you see the familiar things you’ve seen his whole life. His game system, his guitar… his collection of panties? “Jesus.”
“Yeah it’s a thing we do.” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, and you shake your head, turning to look up at him.
“Does it make you feel cool? Fucking the cheerleading squad?”
“Maybe it does. What do you care!?”
“I don’t.”
“Good.” He says.
“Good.” You agree, then you’re on each other, kissing each other hungrily, his hands gripping your ass, as you drink his moans.
“Why do you gotta act like this?”
“Like what, not easy?” You whisper, pulling back, and he groans, down on his knees suddenly, making you gasp, as he’s just a breath away from your hot, eager little pussy, lifting your skirt and moaning when he sees the damp spot. “What… are…”
“Lemme finally shut you the fuck up, brat.” He whispers, yanking them to the side just as the door tumbles open, you jerk back so fast as giggling girls pour in. “Don’t… get off me, fuck.” He’s shouting your name, chasing you, but you can’t get out of there fast enough.
What were you about to do!?
“Come back, fuck!” He’s yanking you by your wrist, and you scowl up at him. “Just let me… we’ll get a room, or…”
“No, thank god they came in. I’m an idiot, I have been. Down to be a notch in your stupid bedpost.”
“You’d never be-”
“Good bye Sukuna.” You leave him with watery eyes and a trembling lip, and he hates you more.
*****
You both sit there, staring at each other then, quietly, so much left unsaid over so many years, so much between you both. Your breaths make both of your chests rise and fall, while you wait with bated breath, feeling every bit of his energy consuming you, still tasting him on your lips, his pants still unzipped, your dress still tugging down your breasts just so.
“I was harsh.”
“Nah, you were real with me.”
“What did you want to say, then?” You ask quietly, and Sukuna curses, standing then, walking you back more and more until your shoulder blades hit the cool glass of his window, and you gasp, looking up at him. His gaze is hungry, it’s intense, looking right through you, seeing you. All of you.
“What I should have said, so many times… is that… I fucking love you, okay? In love with you. Stupid in love. Down bad like a little bitch.”
“What!?”
“You really couldn’t fucking tell!?”
You try to process his words, shaking your head now, tears welling up as the emotions hit you. “Like… in love?”
“Didn’t I say it, brat? Ya want some one knee shit, it’ll be eating your pussy, like I should have that night.” He murmurs, and soon he’s kissing you, hungry, desperate, hands touching every inch of you he can. “Love you, brat. Always have.”
“Sukuna…”
“Shh.” He turns you then, unzipping your dress, big hands darting across your back, your waist, your hips, turning you then to face him, leaving you in nothing but soaked panties and a lacy bra. “Should’ve told you, I love you. You’re beautiful, so beautiful you fucking wreck me.”
“Kuna…” He’s moaning again, red eyes bright as he rips your bra off, revealing your pretty breasts to his hungry gaze, cupping them, resting his forehead on yours.
“I was a fucking ass to you, a dick. A bully. A shit.”
“Kuna…”
“Shut up. You don’t have to feel the same, it can just be a fuck if you want, I’ll give you anything.” You’re whimpering, when he’s kneeling, just like that night, his breath hot against your inner thigh, when he runs calloused fingers down your soft skin, eliciting a cry. “I’ll let you fuck my face and thank you, make me so pathetic.”
“Sukuna!” You shout finally, yanking at his hair, pulling his head back to look at you, and he exhales now.
“Yeah?”
“I love you too, you idiot.” He pauses, heart slamming in his chest, and you just nod weakly, tears pouring down your cheeks. “I’ve always loved you, mean ass.”
“Fuck…” He rips your panties off.
“They’re expensive!”
“I’ll buy you all the ones you want, slutty fucking brat. Put this pretty pussy on my goddamn face, now.” He orders, lifting a thigh, swiping a stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, making you scream out, head falling back against the window he’s so shamelessly eating you out against. “Taste so goddamn good, fuck you.”
“F-fuck you, Kuna… just… will you… ah!” He smacks your pussy then, glaring up at you, as you manage a little pathetic scowl.
“Shut it brat, now. Lemme take my time, shit.” He’s back down there, parting your plump lips, dying at just how pretty your pussy is, how the wetness is just oozing. He sips up the syrupy wetness with the tip of his tongue, moaning at your taste, before slipping up to your clit, slowly circling.
“Mnph!” You’re barely able to make a noise, when Sukuna buries his face against you, nose bumping your little twitchy clit, tongue slipping up into your hole, as his hands squish your thighs, pinning you in place. “Ah!”
You feel that grin against you as he sips you up, drinking you, youre eyes are rolling, back, fucking toes curling as he nips your clit then with his sharp teeth, eliciting a slutty moan from your throat. “That’s it, cum all over m’face, slutty lil fuckin brat.”
You can’t even retort, you can’t function when his tongue is flicking the underside of your clit, and he’s watching you with those bright red eyes under those pastel lashes, working you so well you can barely stand. You’re gasping, gripping his hair so hard you’re pulling it, only making his cock harder for you, your eyes shut when you earn another wet smack on your cunt.
“Ah-ah,look at me when I’m eating you out, brat. I wanna see you fall apart f’me, just me, only me.” Sukuna’s possessive words and another smack earn you looking down at him, eyes locking with his. “Ha, that’s it.”
His tongue is flicking and pressing against your clit, when he curls two fingers up inside your gummy walls, cum drooling down his black painted nails, all the way to his rolex watch, cold against your heated skin as he pumps and pumps. “M’gonna… oh my g-god…”
“That’s it, cum like a pretty lil’ fuckin whore, hmm? Just f’me.” He orders, filthy words spitting from his mouth when he curls his fingers just so inside your soppy little cunt, and you shatter then as he works you like he’s always known you, sucking your little clit in his hot mouth.
“Kuna!” You scream out his name as you come, thighs trembling around his neck, eyes rolling back in your skull, panting when he fucks you with his fingers even faster, pushing you from one orgasm into another. “Too much!”
He doesn’t relent, he’s fingering and devouring you simultaneously until you’re a weak, pathetic mess, sweat making your hair stick to your brow, you’re trembling and shaking as it makes you see stars. You’re not even holding yourself up anymore, he’s got an arm around your hips, moaning against you.
“Sukuna, I l-love you.” You mumble weakly, and he chuckles, tickling your oversensive cunt.
“I know you do, baby.” He whispers back, kissing your inner thigh, licking your pussy clean of all your cum before he stands, and you’re taking off his dress shirt with shaky fingers, so shaky he smacks at them. “Can’t even function huh?”
“F-fuck off…” You can’t function, though, you can’t form a coherent thought in an already fucked out brain as he rips off that damn shirt, showing a buff, perfect body, littered in new tattoos you haven’t even seen. He’s quick to get naked, and pick you right up in his arms like you’re nothing. “H-here!?”
“Everyone already got a show.” He smirks, tip nudging your soppy entrance, you’re shivering as you cling to his shoulders, whining desperately. “Wanna give em a better show? Want everyone to see you dripping my cum?”
“Yes.” At your husky admission he grins.
“Slutty little brat. Oh my… fuck…” He can’t take it, when he starts to press inside you, and you’re screaming out at the stretch, as he feels your slick cunt grip him like a vise. “You’re s-so f-fucking…”
“Fuck me, please, please.” You beg, tears in your eyes now, and Sukuna won’t deny you shit, not when you’re begging so pretty, no he fucks into you, hard, thrusting his cock so deep his tip kisses your cervix. “Oh my god.”
“Oh my god.” He moans right with you, exhaling as he looks into your glassy, dilated eyes, so dilated all he sees are the outer rings of your irises when he sinks so deep in your eager pussy. “Ya feel like this, the whole time could’ve been putting babies in this?”
“Kuna!? The f- y-yes! Yes!” You’re screaming as he pounds his cock, so thick it’s stretching you out so hard it hurts, it burns, wearing you down with each pump, the sounds of your slutty cunt echoing in his immaculate fucking penthouse. You’re cumming before he can play with your clit, something that’s never happened, he hits so hard you don’t even need it.
When you cum, pulsing all around him he tenses, pulling then, setting you on the floor and turning you, pressing your tits against the glass as he bends down, lifting your ass up and fucking into you, your hands leaving prints on spotless glass. He’s moaning as his muscles flex, as he pumps his thick, long cock so deep, and you’re throwing your head back, screaming.
“That’s it, again baby, lemme feel your slutty fucking cunt grip me.” He huffs, leaning over the glass and fucking into you, two hands gripping your hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples of your back, as he rails you harder and harder. You’re gasping, twitching, unable to even stand, practically falling on the glass overlooking the night sky.
When Sukuna’s gotten another orgasm, he pulls out again, carrying you like you’re nothing until you’re in his bed, and he’s climbing on top of you, so intimate in this moment, cock drooling with your drippy wetness. He’s entwining a hand with yours, the other grabbing his cock, putting it back inside, your already sore little hole, and you gasp, clinging to him.
“S’good… s’good I…” You can’t form a word, when he’s pressing your thighs up higher and higher, watching the bulge in your tummy at his huge cock wrecking you, making him harder, his precum pouring, cock twitching.
“That’s it, cunt screamin’ just f’me, fuckin’ hear it huh?” Sukuna whispers, eyes and face practically feral, fucking you harder, deeper, as he presses your thighs until you’re folded in half under him. “Answer me, huh? Too fucked out?”
“F-fuck… y-you… K-Kuna you- yes!” You’re whimpering out when he pounds his cock even deeper, and you hear it, the squelching wetness of your soaking cunt, the slap of his balls on your ass, as his face drips sweat right down onto your own, and you’re crying it feels so good.
“Crying sexy!? Is anything ya do not sexy… slutty brat… swear I’ll ruin you for fuckin anyone, yeah?” You just nod weakly, sniffling when Sukuna cups your face between his huge hands, pounding deeper and deeper in your hole, and he’s finally slowing, laughing. “Milking me?”
“Whass that… Kuna…” Your words are jumbled as the man you’ve loved forever beats your poor little cunt up, as he fucks velvety walls until they’re aching, rubbing your walls so good, hitting just that fucking spot, over and over, ridge of that drooly tip sending you.
“That’s it, can’t help yourself, can you? So pathetic, c-can’t stop cummin…” He’s huffing now, leaning over you, so big and strong you feel so damn tiny under him, his power, the way he moves, the way he fucks you like he owns your pussy.
“Ngh…” You can’t speak anymore, it’s all sounds, whines, whimpers.
“Gonna fill this pussy up, gonna be dripping me for days huh? Want me to, don’t ya brat?” He holds your thighs up so high you could hardly breathe, as he works your cunt harder, grinding against you when his tip bruises your cervix. “Answer me, now, use those words.”
“Fill me, please.” You whisper, and he moans, smirking then, leaning so that his lips are a breath away.
“Want me to breed that slutty pussy?”
“Yes.” Sukuna folds then, busting so deep in your cunt, filling you to the brim with his endless spurts of hot cum, until you can’t stand it, so hot and full, you feel Sukuna fucking everywhere. He’s still pumping now, kissing you, moaning his pleasure as your thighs shake against him.
“That’s it, taking it so good aren’t ya baby? Cunt so eager. Slutty.” You just nod weakly, and he laughs. “That's how I shut you up? Could have been doing it.”
“You love my mouth.” You counter, earning his chuckle, when he finally eases your thighs down, kissing you just a bit softer, your nails that have been pressing and leaving marks on his back relaxes now, as you both breathe together, slower and slower.
“I do love it.”
“You love me.”
“Don’t get too annoying about it.” You giggle, and he adores the way your nose scrunches. “Fucking cute.”
“Yeah?” He nods, finally admitting it, what’s been in his heart so long he doesn’t know how he handled it, the lightness he feels of you knowing is so amazing he can’t put it in words.
“Yeah.” Is all he says for now, kissing you again. Soon he’s in the shower with you, ‘cleaning’ you, as he’s drinking your pussy right up on his knees, as the hot spray falls down.
Then, Sukuna is fucking you right on his shower wall, and you’re clinging to him desperately, as his cock works you in ways you could have never known. “Gonna forget anything, anyone, just me, brat.” He huffs in your ear.
Later, it’s no longer Valentine’s day, shit it’s maybe three am? But Sukuna isn’t done with your pussy, no he’s far from it, having you on your hands and knees on his bed as he fucks you, slapping your ass over and over, leaving hand prints. Then he’s prone bone over you, wrapping long fingers around your throat, squeezing as you gasp and cum all over his cock.
“Put a fuckin baby in ya, huh? Want that, don’t ya?” He’s huffing that morning, not like either of you have slept, and he’s laying behind you, you were supposed to cuddle but Sukuna has catching up to do with you, so he’s cradling you, fucking you with your one leg up over his thigh.
“Want it… want it…” You’re throwing your head back, while he’s fucking one load of cum out and pumping more into you, until you’re a sobbing mess, and Sukuna could still go, but you’re passing out, weak and snuggling him.
“You’re so… beautiful.” He whispers as you snore lightly, before rolling his eyes. “And annoying.”
“Hmm.” You mumble, when he shoves at you, and your eyes adjust to the man you’ve always loved, smiling just a little soft for a moment. “You love me.”
“Shut it brat. Stop snoring or I’ll kick you out.” You just giggle, kissing him.
“Shh. Love you Kuna.” You murmur, falling asleep on his chest, feeling for the first time in forever like the puzzle pieces have fallen together, and Sukuna watches you until his heavy eyes knock him out with you, snoring even louder than you. When you wake to him eating your pussy, all puffy and sore, you wonder just what you’re in for.
“Taste us, fuck.” He drinks you up, leaning over, spitting in your mouth then, you gasp at it, at his insane grin. “Taste s’yummy, huh?”
“How about g’morning, hmm?” You manage, coughing just a bit, and he’s nudging his broad shoulders back between your thighs.
“Nah, fuck that.” He buries his face against your pussy, your hands entangling in his messy locks, back arching.
“Please.” You whisper, soon he’s working over you, hand wrapping your throat, as he shoves that thick cock in your sore little pussy over and over, until you’re both losing the day in each other.
And that was the last time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, but this time it worked, and you felt the same the entire time
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If you enjoy I'd love to hear your thoughts I put a lot on this onnne
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rissouu · 3 days ago
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I KNOW IM YOUR FAVORITE, gojo satoru ཐི♡ཋྀ
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ᖭི༏ᖫྀ in which: he may be your ex, but that doesn’t mean you can just move on.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ wc: 2.9k words.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ warnings: lots of angst, dark content (not really), sexual content, pussy!drunk gojo, stalker!gojo, heavy possessiveness, mentions of violence, pet names, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, baby trapping (but y/n wants it), gojo sucks ur feet for literally 1 second, yandere gojo (ehh), cunnilingus, overstimulation, toxic!gojo (barely), ex!gojo, and etc.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ notes: okay look this shit is very freaky, and it’s loosely based on the song hold me down by daniel caesar! and gojo is a stalker y’all, this is your only warning babes.. please leave now if you’re uncomfy! he is kinda crazy in this but in a lovingly way.. y’know? not proofread either so not too much on me!
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when you walked into your apartment you couldn’t help the exaggerated giggles you let out. it was embarrassing actually, acting like a school girl in junior high all over again. the reason for your happiness was pretty simple— you just had your first date.
your first date since you broke up with your ex, gojo.
that was about a year ago now.. a year since you and the love of your life parted ways. up until recently you’ve never had the guts to put yourself out there again, always scared that one day you’ll just end up hurt again.
but your whole view on dating changed when you met this guy at a grocery store. he offered to pay for your entire cart, and it was well over $300 worth. you found the gesture sweet, and from there you two exchanged numbers.
he was no gojo of course, but you had to move on at some point. it’s already been a year, if gojo didn’t reach out yet, then maybe that meant he’d moved on too.
well.. so you thought.
you were so caught up in the excitement from how well your date went, you barely even realized you were still in pitch black.
“fuck i got so distracted i forgot to turn the lights on.” you chuckled to yourself, flipping the light switch on and hanging your purse on the door.
you didn’t know why but you had a feeling you weren’t alone, like someone was watching you— or better yet breathing right down your neck.
the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear the drop of a pen. but something felt off about your apartment, and you were never one to ignore your instincts.
just as you were about to retreat and run out the door, a familiar voice had you stopping in your tracks.
no. fucking. way.
“where were you?” the achingly familiar man smiled, trying his best to hide the dangerous aura oozing from his body. he knew exactly where you were, and always have. you didn’t know it yet— but he’d been watching you for a while now. ever since you dumped him which was more than a year ago now.
technically it was stalking.. but he didn’t like to call it that. in his mind, he was more of a guardian angel— just making sure you’re okay and still breathing.
how else would he check on you since you blocked him on everything else?
the white haired man was sitting on your couch with his head tilted— clearly waiting for an answer although he already knew where you were to begin with. it was pretty easy to keep tabs on you.
you stared at him, a small frown forming across your face. you were feeling weak in the knees. the first thing you wanted to do was jump on him and tell him how much you missed him.
but you knew you couldn’t do that, not anymore. the two of you just didn’t go together, or at least that’s how you felt a year ago. you couldn’t get back with him, you wouldn’t. no matter how much it hurt.. it was better than dealing with his unstability.
“what are you doing in my house, gojo?” you folded your arms— staring back at him with the same expression he was giving you. that’s what he loved about you, you weren’t easy.
with the blink of an eye, he was up from the couch and coming closer towards you. the man easily towered over you so to say he was intimidating was an understatement.
instead of answering your question he just stared at you with a blank expression— and you did the same exact thing. this was common with you two, just staring at each other in silence until one of you dared to speak up.
about five minutes later, gojo finally cracked. you silently praised yourself for being able to last longer than him.
with a low chuckle, he shook his head— slightly licking over his lips. “i think im the one asking the questions here, hm? so answer me.”
you scoffed at his arrogance, seems like some things just never change. “i was on a date if you must know, now get the hell out of my house.”
as soon as you got your words out he couldn’t help but to laugh. honestly, gojo didn’t even know what was so funny, maybe it was the way you said it.. you really thought you held some type of authority?
“and now you’re laughing at me? what’s so funny?”
that only made him laugh more, truth be told gojo wasn’t even trying to laugh, but you trying to be somewhat “mean” was taking him out because you were nothing like that.
you were one of the kindest people he’d ever met, so this little act you had on was amusing to him.
“shit, im sorry!” he clutched his stomach, letting one last chuckle out before continuing. “it’s just.. you really think im falling for this little act of yours?”
your face was quick to scrunch up— finding every bit of his words disrespectful. but it was gojo, so what could you really expect? his bluntness would probably be the death of him.
“excuse me? need i remind you, we are not together anymore gojo!” your voice came out a lot shakier than you’d hoped for it to. what the hell was going on with you?
“well clearly i know that, or else i’d go and kill that fucker you were out with tonight.”
throwing your hands in the air you muttered a strand of curse words, it’s impossible to get through to someone as hard-headed as him. “please just see yourself out.”
before he could respond, you walked off toward your room. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him or his childish antics, he’d already managed to ruin your entire mood. all this did was remind you why you keep your heart locked away— because of arrogant assholes like him.
“there’s no need to be rude, y’know? i just wanna talk to my favorite girl.” gojo followed you to your room— just like you knew he would. god, he’s so annoying.
it looked the exact same as the last time he was here except for the empty wall where the pictures of him used to hang. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest heavy, and heart pang in sorrow. could you really have been done with him for good this time?
“whatever, just don’t get on my bed.. i don’t know where you’ve been.”
‘stalking you’ he chuckled to himself before completely disregarding your request, and plopping down on your bed anyways.
you decided not to scold him for doing exactly what you said not to do. that’s just who gojo was, no one could boss a man like him around.
you weren’t even being serious either. in hindsight, you really did enjoy having him around. as much as you hated to admit it.. it reminded you of the old times, when it was just you and him against the whole world.
“i missed you, y’know? you just up and left without a word.. and next thing i know im blocked.” even though he tried to hide it you could hear the pain in his voice. losing you was like losing a piece of him too, he couldn’t stand it. he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel.
the only reason the man was able to keep it together was because he was watching you, ensuring you weren’t completely out of his life.
it sounded crazy. hell— it was crazy, but when it came to you he’d do anything.
“i know.. & im sorry for the way i handled that. i just felt like we needed to move on, try new things…”
“i don’t want to try new things!” he scowled, quickly sitting up from the bed to face you. “i want you.. just you. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”
the air was thick, and the room felt like it was caving in. your body was practically on fire listening to him say the words you’d been craving to hear.
“and about that date of yours..” he cooed, running his hands up your thighs and slowly spreading them. “we won’t be worrying about him anymore, will we?”
that little date was never a threat to gojo to begin with. both you and him knew that, but he took manners into his own hands just to mark his territory.
gojo made sure to corner the poor guy as soon as your date was over, and needless to say.. a few threats were all it took. you should be happy he didn’t do worse, it ran across his mind to kill the poor guy at first.
“i..if we do this then no more bullshit okay?” your soft hands gripped his chin as you forced his beautiful blue eyes to meet yours. “none of that childish stuff this time. we’re both grown so we need to act like it, we’ve had a whole year to fix ourselves.”
every time the two of you got back together it turned into complete chaos. gojo wasn’t the best man out there, and you weren’t the best woman. both of you had your own flaws regardless, but you two needed each other.
that was well established the first 10 times you guys broke up, and unsurprisingly you always ended up back in each other’s skin.
gojo’s gaze on you was heavy, almost as if he was trying to study your every breath and blink. all of the dumb, childish expressions on his face from before were far gone.
“yes princess, whatever you want.” he softly spoke as he sunk his head into the skin of your stomach, littering you with soft kisses. “i’ll do whatever you want..”
gojo spoke so gently— his voice softer than ever as he pushed you on your back, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.
you stared at him intently, waiting to see what he would do next. one thing about gojo was he always had something up his sleeve, and part of you knew where this was headed.
when his rough hands gripped the waistband of your flimsy skirt, you didn’t complain. actually you found yourself wanting more, longing for more.
“y’gonna let me get a taste baby? missed her s’much,” soft lips trailed up your thigh— leaving small bite imprints on the flesh. this was his way of staking his claim on you, marking you as his and only his.
you couldn’t stop the shaky sigh that fell from your lips, or the silent nod you gave to your ex-boyfriend for him to continue.
the grin that spread across his face was taunting almost, and intimidating. when that skirt of yours was out of the way, gojo moved on to the black-lace panties. his personal favorite.
“so what, you wearin’ these for other people now?” the fucking nerve of you, he couldn’t believe this. to stoop that low.. well that just won’t do. it seems like he had a few things to correct now that he was back. “fuckin’ answer me. be a good girl for me, yeah?”
your eyes locked with his and all you saw was silent fury, you could tell he was pissed. “not wearing them for anybody toru. just didn’t have any clean ones,”
a lazy grin covered his face at the remembrance of his old nickname, the way it fell from your lips so softly always managed to send heat straight to his dick.
he finally got his girl back.
faint kisses to your cunt had your legs shaking in anticipation— and the soft gasp that left your lips did nothing but egg gojo on as his tongue met your aching clit.
“pussy’s still fuckin’ pretty as ever,” with a low voice his eyes were closed shut, in hopes to savor every last bit of you. when his hands came up to your thighs he couldn’t resist the urge to spread them even further.
the man wanted to explore every inch of you since it’s been so long. so so long since he’s spent some personal time with that pretty pussy of yours.
“w..wait- fuck toru!” you whined when his lips found their way to your pulsing clit, folding his tongue up and down the gooey slit.
his assault to your pussy didn’t stop there. next his thumb was sliding down your sticky folds, not stopping until it was past your tight walls.
your mouth fell open at the intrusion. his thumb wasn’t long but it was thick, causing a bigger stretch than you’d expected.
“so good. taste’s s’good princess,” gojo mindlessly babbled, every word sending vibrations straight to your pussy.
gojo felt like he was out of his body. out of his mind, and he hadn’t even been inside you yet. just what the fuck were you doing to him?
finally fed up with the throbbing ache in his pants he latched onto your clit for a third time, giving it one last kiss before pulling away.
the man couldn’t wait any longer— he needed to be inside you, and he needed it now. before you knew it he was sliding off his sweats and everything underneath it, leaving him completely exposed.
your pussy throbbed just from the sight of him.. you didn’t know how much longer you could wait either.
“don’t worry mama, im ready for ya’.” a low chuckle left his throat when he saw you were just as desperate as him. “you ready for me?”
his blue eyes met your low ones when he slapped his tip against your folds. next he was sliding inside of your pulsing hole with ease, forcing your mouth open.
“o..oh my gosh!“ you winced at the familiar stretch, your walls involuntarily clenched around his dick— trying to push him out.
“n..no- fuck. none of that, y’hear me?” gojo whimpered at the feel of being squeezed, he couldn’t even move you were squeezing him so tight.
the man hovered over you, lips grazing your ear as he coaxed you. “let me in baby, you can do it. i know you can,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck and resting it there.
his words of encouragement had you opening up quicker than he expected, and with every second he was inching deeper into your pussy. gojo felt like he was in a dream— or better yet, on cloud 9. after all that time you still feel the exact same, heavenly.
his strokes were gentle at first, but they sped up when he realized how long he was away from you. a whole year.. never again.
“n..never ever gonna let you keep this shit from me again.” gojo groaned with an edge in his voice that you couldn’t recognize.
your shaky hands wasted no time sliding under his shirt, feeling on the happy trail that covered his v-line. “not gonna take it away toru, ‘s all yours!”
gojo grinned at your words as he pressed onto your lower stomach. with his free hand he gripped onto the back of your thighs and brung your freshly done feet up to his mouth.
his lips wrapped around your toe— eyes locking with yours as he sucked on it. his strokes only got deeper, and you whimpered at all the different sensations at once.
“‘m not gonna pull out,” he admitted as he switched from sucking to leaving small kisses on your foot. “gonna cum so deep in this pretty pussy. never gonna leave me again.”
you were so out of it. drool everywhere, hair messy, tear stained cheeks.. anything gojo said went in one ear and out the other. the man could do whatever, you didn’t care.
“mm yes, don’t pull out. want it s’bad, fill me up please!” small whines filled your throat when you felt a familiar pressure in your abdomen, your pussy wrapping around him even tighter than before. how was this even possible?
gojo’s pace got faster, strokes sloppier.. he was slowly but surely losing all the sense of control he once had before. “f..fuckk ‘m gonna cum toru, so close!”
you gasped when his thumb flicked your clit, looking up at the blue eyes that never left your frame. your legs shook in overstimulation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold it in.
“let it out mama, you’re okay. gimme all of it- shit.” he hissed as his dick twitched at how tight you were squeezing. “fuck fuck fuck, you’re gonna be such a pretty mama. s..such a pretty wifey, all f’me.”
you threw your head back as chills covered your entire body. the both of you were completely out of touch with reality, not caring about anything but the feeling of one another.
“‘m cumming toru! mhmm ‘m cumming,” you exclaimed, bringing your hand to his stomach. it wasn’t long before the built-up pit in your stomach finally snapped, coating his dick in a ring of your juices.
gojo was close behind you, a whimpering mess as his stomach tightened. before he knew it he was filling you up— spilling his load inside of you, not a drop to be wasted.
“f..fuck yeah. take it mama, it’s all yours. all for you.. gotta give you everything.” he chanted praises as he gave you one last stroke, pushing his cum even deeper into you where it belonged.
your voice was shaky when he called you, so shaky that at first you thought you wouldn’t be able to respond. but even so, you did.
“you’re never leaving me again, understand?” the edge in his voice was back, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach do flips.
“yes toru, i understand.”
if there’s anything you learned from this at all.. it’s that you could never leave a man like gojo satoru.
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©rissouu 2025 (this one’s for dulce y’all so thank her, it took me forever *sigh*)
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Bottled Up (Satoru Gojo x Reader)
MDNI SMUT 18+ CONTENT
Gojo can’t cum. Too much on his mind, not enough time to himself, not enough chances to indulge. It’s becoming a matter of personal hygiene. He can't go on like this. He needs help. Your help.
Ao3 Masterlist.
WC: 7.4k Warnings: casual sex, raw sex, penetrative sex, kissing, kissing SLOPPY, oral m!receiving, discussion of anal but not present really, improper use of cursed energy, doggy, begging, crying, desperate whiny Gojo, brief mention on former satosugu,
------ Wow can you guys even believe? I actually wrote something about Gojo!! Tbh writing about/for him intimidates the fuck out of me but i have some longer form ideas about him so this was a good exercise. I hope y’all like it. -Doodle
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Satoru can’t cum. He’s broken. His balls dried up. His dick died. His cursed energy overloaded and rendered him impotent. Limitless misfired and clogged him completely. It was the only way to explain why he hadn’t cum in two months.
He used to be able to cum. Fuck, he used to cum too easy. Ten years ago he would jerk off before hooking up so he didn’t cum too fast. He was so fucking sensitive, every touch or graze could send him shivering. Now he would have given anything for his days as a quick draw. That life was over.
Do people have cum caps? Like a finite amount of times they can orgasm and an excess of masturbation and experimentation in his youth had burned through his chances. He wants to believe that if he had known how wasteful he was, he would have acted differently, but it was a lie. He was too instinctual, everything in his nature, his upbringing, had taught him to trust his instincts above all else. They kept him alive, kept him going, kept him satisfied. But now, a vital piece of the puzzle was missing.
It was the sixty-sixth day in a row. He got home around eleven pm, an earlier night than most. His apartment, with its spotless, professionally tended, interior that betrayed the depraved chaos burning inside of him. Dropping his keys and shoes at the door he groaned into the silence at the way his work pants shifted against his throbbing erection trucked down his left leg. This was the part that was growing painful. The sensitivity. It started just around his pelvis, any brush of fabric or misjudged distance between himself and curses, near his hips would send a shaking beat of pleasure up his spine. But it spread, and spread. Even the car seat against his back was starting to turn him on. Last week Principle Yaga touched the back of his neck by mistake and his eyes rolled back. His black blindfold was working finding more work by the day. He started leaving limitless up constantly, well, more constantly. Only dropping completely after he had crossed the threshold of his home. Anything else was too risky.
Today had been rough, he woke up aching between his legs, the coldest shower he could stand helped to bring it down, but not for long. On the way to work he had to cross and re-cross his legs, a difficult feat at his height, over and over until he got to the school. Because of his existence in the good graces of the universe, there were no classes, only a brutally endless string of meetings. Not good, but at least…seated. By the time the final meeting was dismissed he thought he could bite through a cement support beam. On the way out, one of the higher ups patted him on the back, limitless blocking it from making contact, but he found a tantalizing urge to let it pass through, just for the contact.
He was fucking ruined.
Passing through the mainroom, up the staircase to the bedroom, he pulled his blindfold from his eyes, blinking a few times, snowy eyelashes relaxing from their position pressed against his eyelids. Finally in his bedroom, he pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor, already breathing hot and deep. He passed his bed into the ensuite bathroom, clicking the light and taking in his own reflection.
Fuck, he looked rough.
Skin sallow. Muscles strained and tense. Still handsome, of course, but drained. Like he had been wrung out.
And alone.
Satoru clicked the light off. He couldn’t go there.
He walked himself over to the bed, lithe hands finding his belt and unfastening it, slipping his pants down his legs. A relieved sigh left his mouth as the tight garment was removed. He sat on the edge of his bed, palming his desperate erection. He was shivering, the stimuli so overwhelming already. He wasn’t hopeful, but he was too desperate to stop. Keening back onto the bed, he let his eyes close. He didn’t want to see, the only sensation he wanted was to feel himself, touching himself, bringing him to the peak that felt so insurmountable. He was diamond hard now, finally he pulled himself free of the confines of his briefs. Taking his length into his hand, circling his palm over his barren tip.
He couldn’t even precum anymore.
He groaned in frustration, scooting back further on the cushy mattress, his briefs joining his discarded pants on the floor. He spit onto his hand, coating his dick from base to head, easing his strokes. He let his head fall back against the pillows, dredging up memories of past lovers to try and aid his efforts. He wasn’t really a porn guy, not above it, certainly. But it was overstimulating, bright lights, too colorful, just overwhelming to his already heightened senses. He preferred to rely on his own mind, he was in total control there. Or at least he used to be. His mind was too full of other bullshit to wander into the salacious. Work, always work. Lesson plans, missions, reports, meetings.
Fuck.
He reset, turning over onto his knees, moving one of his silken pillows under him, opting to rut against the soft cushion. One hand underneath pressing it against his length. His head hanging heavy under his shoulders, sweat dripping down the slope of his nose. The cold silk pillowcase against his cock, making his sweating body erupt into goosebumps. He slid his hips, gasping out shuddering breaths. It felt so good, so cold and soft against his begging erection. The muscles in his back rippled, swelling and beckoning under his frosty, even skin. The light of his bedroom cast gorgeous shadows on his back and hips, bringing out his excellent physique. The shadow of his spine, the lat muscles under large, perfectly worked arms, almost appearing as angel wings in the low, soft glow.
He brought his thoughts to long shapely legs, thighs shaking under his touch. Lips, wet and swollen, against his own. This was working, his breath was starting to catch in time with his hips against the pillow. He let his mind continue to wander and increased his speed. Glute muscles flexing hard as images of bodies he once held, some with features he knew well, some less familiar but still worth remembering. Some too familiar, silky, long black hair falling into his mouth. Dark violet eyes, full, strong arms.
No. Not that. He couldn’t go there either. There was nothing left for him anymore.
It killed his momentum. Still aching below but too stormy on top. Stilling his hips, slouching over the mattress. He took a few deep breaths, trying to take in the room around him in pieces, grounding himself in the present. In reality.
He wiped his wet hand over his face then on the sheets below him, gripping hard. This was getting ridiculous. He felt pathetic. Tears burned behind his blessed eyes. He felt broken. He felt shame bubbling behind his navel. He couldn’t live like this. He needed to cum. He needed to release all of this build up and get himself right.
Satoru pulled his phone from the discarded pants and tapped it a few times. Until he found just what he was looking for.
Your phone screen illuminated your dark bedroom. Your humidifier was on, your lights had been long turned out. You had just fallen asleep after some restless tossing and turning. The screen lit up again, this time chiming out a text notification. That jarred you from the warm grip of dream and made your head spring up. You glanced at the screen, trying to read the too bright notification with sleep still coating your eyes. But before you could, it changed to the dimmer incoming call screen. It vibrated on the nightstand, suddenly too loud to ignore. You sighed, and retrieved it.
It was Gojo. He was calling you. You hadn’t seen him in months. fuck was that right? You thought back. You hadn’t seen him in…six months. The last time you left his gorgeous, perfectly styled, agonizingly well put together apartment, it hadn’t been on bad terms, by any metric, but it wasn’t like you were falling into each other's arms either. There hadn’t been any blow out or agreement not to see each other anymore, it just fizzled out. You were sure you had been disappointed when the calls and texts slowed to a trickle, but it wasn’t like you were dating or anything. You had hooked up a few times earlier in the year. No more than four times total. Okay, six times. Okay, nine times. Okay, you lost track somewhere in the second month. What really qualifies as hooking up these days, anyway? Just penetration or sexting? Oral? Hand stuff? Hand stuff in public? Other stuff in public? What should even qualify if you were keeping track -- which you weren’t! You answered the call.
“Do you know what time it is?” You sighed out, smiling through your feigned annoyance.
He purred on the other side of the line, “hmmmm, what are you wearing?”
“Pajamas, because it's almost one in the morning.” your voice was hoarse, sleep having laid your vocal cords to rest.
“Sounds hot.” You could hear his stupidly sexy smile, “You should come over. Can’t waste an outfit like that at home.”
You laugh, already planning how quickly you could pull yourself together, and whether or not the trains were still running, “You’re kidding me. I haven't heard from you in months. You call at an ungodly hour and expect me to come running over at the drop of a hat?”
“You don’t have to run, I’ll send a car.” He coos.
You laugh again, stretching in your bed, letting out a soft groan.
“mmmm, do that again.” His voice grew heavier, there was some suspicious sounding rustling on his end.
You stayed quiet, wanting to see if you would hear anything else and wanting to deny him.
“Now don’t be like that, baby.” He whines, he sounds pathetic “I need your help. It’s an emergency.”
You got out of your bed, still taking your sweet time, savoring his helplessness, “An emergency, huh? Nothing fatal I hope.”
His tongue clicks on the other side, “hmmm, it’s hard to say. Could be a fever, I’m feeling…hot.”
You hate that a line so corny is making you bite your lips to keep quiet. You slipped into a cuter, but still comfy lounge set, a bit more versatile than your pajamas “Sounds contagious, maybe it would be best if I stayed home…”
“Please!” His voice changed, cracking and almost panicked, “I need you, please.”
There was no version of this conversation that ended any other way, “Send the car.”
“Already outside.” You heard his face split into that gorgeous smile you couldn't resist, not even over the phone.
When you arrived at his front door, you didn't even have a chance to knock before he swung the door open. And fuck he looked good. Bad, but good? Not bad, just…disheveled. He hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on, inhumanly muscled torso glowy and flushed, his hair matted and unkempt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The long, angled white scar healed from an injury long past going from his shoulder to his opposite hip. You traced the line with your eyes, recalling the first time you had seen it, how he had moved your fingers over it, getting you used to the feeling of it under your touch, assuring you that it was long healed and nothing to fuss over. Every inch of him was perfect, despite his pain, his history. You couldn’t resist the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Your ogling did not go unnoticed, looking up to his face you saw the smile you had heard so much of recently.
“Miss me?” He opened the door wider, allowing you to enter, ducking under his arm.
“Yeah.” You admitted rolling your eyes and stepping inside, leaving your shoes at the door.
You took in the sleek, cavernous town house around you. His decor hadn’t changed at all, a lovely front room, a staircase along one windowed wall, leading up to his bedroom. If you were to press further into the main floor, peeling back shoji screens you would find more bedrooms, frozen in time just as they were last left by their former inhabitants, his office, barely ever touched, a gorgeous bathroom complete with a personal sauna. For someone who spent nearly no time at home, he really did have the house dreams are made of.
“I can get you something to drink if you want.” He offers, shutting and locking the door.
“That’s okay. You sounded pretty desperate on the phone, I’d hate to keep you waiting.
He wasn’t totally ready for this part. Having to explain what was going on with him. He shifted a bit, he wanted you so bad. He needed it. He needed every part of you right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“Come on Gojo, you got me out here. Don’t get shy on me now. What’s the big emergency?” You set your bag down on his expansive kitchen island, not subtly eyeing the absolutely incomprehensible bulge tenting the front of his sweats.
“It’s been so long, why the rush, Sugar?” He plays coy, approaching you with a suave gait, moving past you to the refrigerator, “Sparkling water? Still? I can go down to the cellar if you want something stronger?”
“Gojo…” You raise your eyebrows.
“I have tea or coffee if you prefer. Some sodas, you like diet right?”
“Gojo come on---”
“You know i'm not great in the kitchen but if you’re hungry I could---”
“Satoru!” You cut him off, finally pulling his attention from the icebox, “What’s up with you?”
His white eyebrows knit together in the center, making his eyes droop pitfully, “I can’t cum.”
You can barely hear his confession, and you must have heard him wrong so in earnest you ask, “What?”
“I can’t cum. For weeks, nothing. I try and I try and just…nothing.” He blurts, simultaneously relieved and mortified.
You know you shouldn't stare, that you should say something, but you’re dumbfounded. There was once a time, not too long ago even, where he had you bent over this exact counter pushing through his own leaking orgasm to bring you to tears. And that had been the third round that night. You always thought he was the untouchable man, a paragon of self control and pushed limits. To think of him unable to even pleasuring himself, it felt impossible.
“You can’t cum?” You say dumbly.
“Well now that you have repeated it, I think I must be cured, you can go now.” He rolled his eyes, leaning his shoulder against the fridge, fighting the hiss that bubbles in his throat from its chilling surface against his heated skin.
“I’m sorry!” You put your hands up like you had been caught, “It's just a little hard to believe! I never expected you to….struggle…in this…area.”
Gojo’s eyebrows flew up, every word you said made it worse. You could feel it but you couldn’t stop yourself. You were apparently determined to put every foot possible in your big stupid mouth.
“I just mean because you’re usually so good! How could this happen, are you sick? I don’t know why I would even ask that! Obviously you’re not sick, you're just….having some…dysfunction.”
“Why would you say dysfunction?” He stared at you, ego bruised but still amused at how poorly you were handling this.
“I didn’t mean like that! I Just---”
“Any other word. Any word in the world you could have said, and you go with dysfunction.” He chuckles, his own embarrassment now vacated completely in wake of how flagrantly you had just shit the bed.
“That was super dumb, and I’m really sorry. I have no idea what to say.” You just gave up on the second half of the sentence, knowing nothing you were saying was going to help.
“I don't have erectile dysfunction, the erection is not the problem,” He doesn’t have to gesture below his waist, the subject of conversation stands perfectly at attention, pushing against the flimsy fabric, “It won't go away, I’m stuck like this, and I can’t think about anything else, and I can’t get anything done. I need your help, you have to help me get rid of it.”
Your chest warmed a bit, a sly canary eating smile crossed your face, “So you called me, huh?”
“Yes I called you.” He sighs.
“Out of everyone you could have booty called to help your infinite boner, you call little old me? Gojo, I'm touched!” You sound like you're accepting a Nobel prize.
He rolls his eyes, “I knew you were going to be annoying about this.”
You took a seat at one of the bar stools at the counter, resting your head flirtatiously on your perched hands, “So like when you were choosing who to call, what made you pick me…am I just that good?”
You were, fuck you really were. He had thought about you so many times, Your perfect body, your pretty eyes, your soft hair, your legs around his hips, your fucking mouth. It had been too long over all, but it had been far too long since he had been with you. He called you because he knew you were great, and because he trusted you. He could be honest with you without judgement, your current reaction notwithstanding. He knew that he could count on you to be discreet and up front. There weren’t any guessing games when you were together, he didn’t have to guess or grasp for clues at how you were feeling. He knew you.
“That’s right.” He nodded, willing to let you have this.
You let out a teasing school yard oooooooooooooh. Batting your eyelashes and grinning widely, feeling like the absolute queen of the universe.
But he was growing impatient, “You gonna help me out, or what?”
“Sounds like I have quite the reputation to protect, how long has it been exactly?” You eyed him up and down.
“Still about twenty centimeters. Give or take.” He answers, “Oh! You mean--two months.”
“Months? Two MONTHS?” You gawked and then caught yourself, “I’m sorry I know that doesn’t help…I just can’t believe you’re upright. How are you not hospitalized?”
“If this conversation takes much longer I may have to be.” He crosses the room to you, leaning over where you are seated on the counter, putting his arm around you to grip the back of your chair.
You lean back, taking in a breath as he leans closer. Fuck, he’s so handsome. Perfect pearly skin, hair soft and fluffy, those fucking eyes holding you still under their gaze.
“Come on, Sugar, help a guy out. We’re friends right? Friends help each other.” His breath is sweet against your face.
You feel hypnotized, looking between his eyes and lips in a dizzying circle. His cocky demeanor you were so used to was crackling, you could see beads of sweat that had formed on his brow, his tongue wet and heavy kept his lips parted, drawing you closer. He smelled like him, warm and clean, the whole place smelled like him. You were completely in his arena, but you still had all the power. The Strongest asking you for help, begging even, you felt high. You tilted your head up, close to his face, catching his eyes,
“What are friends for?” You closed the distance between you, locking your lips together.
He is quick to pull you closer, making your breasts press hard against his chest, drawing a moan from both of you. His tongue slips past your lips, and maps the interior of your mouth quickly. Reacquainting himself with your taste. Even just a kiss, a real kiss, made his body shudder. His left hand holds your face, his long fingers splayed over your cheek, from your neck up to you temple, his right hand held the back of your neck, keeping you firm in place against him. You are far handsier than him in this moment. You can’t stop yourself, you missed his body, his kiss, him. Feeling his toned stomach, around his hips to his back, digging your nails in just enough to see if he gasps. He does not. Far too focused on the sloppy, dripping kiss he waited so patiently for. He’s leaning over you, pushing you further and further back, making you dangerously close to falling off the stool below you. But of course, his hand grabs your back, holding you still, right where we wanted you. Just past the point where you would have to engage your abs, but not far enough for you to want to hold yourself up. Muscles right on the precious of passive ability and focused contraction, forcing to to rely on his hold, trusting him completely, and he could feel you would relax into his palm, melting into his touch.
“Fuck, Gojo. You really are desperate.” You giggled as his kissed moved down to your jaw and neck.
He moaned against your skin as your nails clawed at his lower back, nodding his head passively, running his tongue over your pulse point.
“You’re so pretty.” He hooks your leg over his hip, pressing the problem child erection right against yours clothed cunt, drawing a shaky gasp from you.
“Not here.” He pulls himself away. “Upstairs…do this right…let’s”
He’s not finishing any of his sentences, you almost worry if whatever problem that resides in his cock could be spreading to his brain. But maybe it was contagious because you can’t bring yourself to care. Holding your hand a bit too tight, he pulls you forward and up the staircase to his bedroom. He doesn’t bother shutting the door, no one else has lived here in a long time. The house is quiet, bar from the panting breaths that drip from both of you, the rustle of clothes, and the reconnection of hot, desperate skin. You kiss him again, pushing him back toward the bed. He allows you to push him onto the mattress, disconnecting your lips.
“So?” You flirt, standing naked before him, letting him see all of you, “how do you wanna fix this?”
He has shed his sweatpants in the shuffle, propped up on his elbow, the other hand giving himself long, slow strokes.
“I’ve been dreaming about that mouth, baby.” He chews on the interior of his bottom lip, “show me if you’re as good as I remember.”
He spreads his legs, allowing you a good long look at how hard he really has become. Angry, pink tip swollen, veins along the shaft straining against the skin. The lower ab muscles are so strained you think they might pop. You had almost forgotten how fucking big he is. Everything about him was too big. His broad, strong body, his long spindly legs, built, strong arms hanging below his hips, those big hands with their knuckly fingers, his long, thick cock and the ego that accompanied. Seeing all of him, how big he was, made a shock run up and down your spine.
How the fuck had you fit this thing inside of you before?
“Oh, don’t be shy now,” he echos your earlier words, “you can take it.”
Not to be out foxed, you steel yourself and sink to your knees in between his spread legs. He stops stroking himself, leaning against both elbows now, waiting with held breath for you to begin.
Your put your hands on his knees, massaging them down and up, feeling the taut muscles of his thighs, the soft hairs under your hands.
“You think about me a lot?” You kissed the side of his left knee.
“Mhm.” His head hung backs exposing his delicious, wiry throat.
His adam’s apple bobbed as he gasped, you ran your nails down his legs, making his hips jerk upward.
“Don’t tease baby, it’s bad enough already!” He begged.
Fuck he sounded good like that. No one could swing the pendulum of pathetic and cocky quite like Satoru Gojo.
“Two months huh?” You carried on, giving open mouthed kisses up his thigh between thoughts, “you must be sooooo sensitive. Poor baby.”
He nods, his eyes squeezed right, trying to focus on every sensation you’re giving him.
Finally you reach the divot between his hip and the base of his pelvis, the internal hinge of his thigh. You ran your tongue along the muscle, tasting the salt of his body. His hips jerk again.
“Please!” He cries out, the lamp at his bedside flicker off and on again.
“Careful Satoru.” You warned, “all you had to do was ask.”
You swirl your tongue around the swollen, aching tip of his dick. Looping around the underside of the head and sliding your mouth down further.
Satoru was in heaven, his eyes rolled back in his head, he fought to keep his hips still, he didn’t want to hurt you, but fuck he wanted more.
You slide your tongue along each beautiful vein, making a perfect map in your head of the topography of his penis. Pulling off and sinking back down again you could take him all the way to the base, coarse white hair ticking your nose as your relaxed your throat to accommodate him he fell back against the bed, one hand moving your hair off your forehead so he could see your pretty face. He didn’t know what he wanted to do more, relax into the pleasure and let it wash over him, or watch you take him further. He leaned up to watch, just as your peeked on eye open to see him falling apart. But the eye contact was too much for him to bear, he felt his cheeks erupt in a blush, and he fell backward again, using one arm to shield his eyes.
You tutted, running his cock along your lips as your spoke, giving it sloppy kisses to make the syllabals, “oh Satoru, look at me, baby. Doesn’t it feel good?”
He nods but doesn’t look up. He can’t bear it. Your weepy eyes filling with tears from the lack of breath, your lips swollen, encasing his cock head. Your hair pulled to one side, giving him a perfect view of your hollowed cheeks as you suck and pull at him. With your spit coating his cock, the sensitivity has doubled. Wet, schlucking sounds fill his bedroom, alongside your haughty moans. Or wait…that’s actually him moaning like that. He doesn’t even recognize himself, he’s panting, sweating, begging. He didn’t even realize he was talking but the praises have been spilling from him continuously:
Yes
Baby yes just like that
Fuck you’re so good
You’re so pretty
Fuck you’re doing so good
Feels so good
Baby
Fuck
Sugar
So pretty
So good
I can’t I
Please baby make me
Fuck you’re
Agh
Oh
Fu
Oh
Ah
O
I
All he can manage by the time he looks back at you are open vowel sounds. It’s feels fucking incredible, perfect, if this were three months ago he would have cum in an instant. This was the closest he had felt, but it still wasn’t enough. He had to be inside you. The hand keeping your hair back rounded your face, his thumb pushing against your lips.
“I need to fuck you.” He says breathlessly, “I won’t cum until I fuck you, please.”
You pull off of him, a little disappointed that you wouldn’t get to brag about your head game, but you push it aside and join him on the bed. Clingy as he is, he pulls you close, kissing you hard again. Your mouth is wet with saliva and pre cum. He didn’t have the time to be impressed at your skill bringing forth the pearly substance, he coveted so greatly. He was too focused on being as close as two people can be. You move to straddle his lap, but he shakes his head, breaking from your lips.
“Bend over.” His mouth is wet now, both of you wet from lips to chin.
You grin and climb off him, stacking a few pillows to give you something to rest on and presenting your hips to him. Satoru is getting his bearings back, he feels more in control now that he has moved onto his knees behind you. Desperate as he is he can’t resist brushing two feather light fingers down your spine, watching you arch as he drags them further and further down. Your spine snakes, your hips sway, his fingers find the cleft where your spine meets your ass, a perfectly little dimple, waiting for his hands to paw at, your breathy moan eggs him on, sliding further down, feeling your tight asshole clench from just the lightest of contact.
“You remember when you let me back here?” He circles it, reminiscing, “you were so tight. fuck, you felt so good baby.”
“Remember when you let me back there.” You tried to sound tough but your position bent over with your head buried in your hands made it difficult.
“Mmmmhm.” He felt his dick twitch again, remembering when you had fingered him open, sucking him in tandum, he swore he saw an angel that night.
And here you were again, having rushed over in the middle of the night just to help him, trembling under his fingertips. Maybe you really were an angel. His very own guardian angel. If anyone could bed a steward of the divine it would be him.
“I thought you needed my help.” You whined.
He giggles, leaning over you, close enough that his lips touch your ear, his heavy cock pressing against your slit,“Just making sure you’re as needy as I am.”
He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear, making you squeal. Of course he remembered all your sensitive spots. He returned to his knees behind you, spreading you open, marveling at the mess you had made. Dripping honey onto the bed, onto your thighs, on his hand. His mouth floods, the desire to bury his head between your legs quickly matching his desire to cum.
“Later.” You whimpered, having read his mind, “you need my help.”
He beams, “so selfless.”
Finally, after an hour of build up since your arrival, the agonizing time waiting for you to get here, and the two months of celibacy that had brought him here, he aligned himself at your drooling hole, your spit was still shining along his cock but he ran either side though your folds anyway, making sure he was wet enough. He had fucked enough and had a big dick for long enough that he knew taking it all required some specific anatomy or a lot of prep, usually both. And while you were familiar with him, and giving yourself so willingly to him, he didn’t actually want to hurt you.
“Satoru please just—-“
The rest of your sentence would never see the air of his bedroom. It’s conclusion stolen from you and replaced with a pathetic scream as he pushed inside. He had meant to ease in but as soon as he started he couldn’t stop himself, he bottomed out in his first thrust. A loud smack of your ass hitting his hips still resounded in the room as he pulled back and thrusted in again. Your back arched evilly, dangerously close to snapping your spine in half. Despite his tunnel vision, Satoru eased his hand up your back, effortlessly smoothing it and gripping your shoulder for more leverage.
“Yes! Oh fuck yes.” He grunted, thrusting in an evil pace.
You couldn’t even speak, he was so deep, you were willing to bet his made an impression agains the front of your stomach. On your pillow pedastule you sank further, and reached up one formerly supportive hand to grip his on your shoulder.
“Sa…sa…” you panted out, not even able to string his name together.
He moved to long, languid, but devastatingly deep thrusts, the hand on your shoulder holding the side of your neck now, “that’s it, sugar. Say my name. Say my name, baby, come on.”
You tried, you really fucking tried but the letters wouldn’t come, “S—Sa—-sss.”
Your eyes rolled back, crumbling completely into the silken pillowcases, not caring if your spit or tears ruined the fabric. He spanked you once hard, making your head shoot up.
“I said say it.” He grunted.
Cocky for a man who was nearly in tears over the phone because he couldn’t bust.
“Satoru!” You finally spilled, his cock pushing hard against your g spot, “Satoru! Satoru please! Be gentle!”
Now that your voice had found you again it was hard not to beg him for mercy.
“Please baby, please! Fuck that’s so good.” You babbled, bringing a sick smile to his face.
He fucked harder, deeper into you, reveling the way your walls fluttered around him. You were so tight he had initially worried he was going to split you in two. But you are his angel, he should have known better than to deny your divinity. Satoru could hear your moans increasing in pitch and becoming choppy. He reached around your hip, finding the perfect pearl between your lower lips and circling his middle finger around. The clench that followed sent you both keening. His fingers brought forth an orgasm you didn’t think was nearly as close. Your hips shaking, biting into the pillow to keep from screaming.
“No baby, let me hear you.‘I need it.” He panted, not stopping his fingers on your clit or his evil thrusts, seeming deeper and deeper every second.
You tried to lift your head but felt dizzy, your vision wasn’t right, your clit throbbed beautifully but made you aware of how fast your heart was. Gojo pulled out turning you on your back, reinserting himself with a kiss to your cheeks.
“Don’t pass out on me, okay? I need you baby, I need your help. Help me, please.” He thrusted slower, only moving a few inches at a time as your came down from the mind fuzzing orgasm.
You nodded, coming back to yourself, you pulled your legs over his hips, your hands moving down the curves of his body. He slower thrust gave you time to admire him. He really was so beautiful. Looking at the sun and having to look away beautiful. His skin was reddening from effort and arousal, splotchy flushes that still couldn’t take away his perfection. The divots on his shoulders, the smell of his sweat, the taste of his spit. Fucking him felt like being completely encompassed in perfection incarnate. And you couldn’t feel luckier to have the chance to be so. He opened his pleasure screwed up eyes, those glowing blue irises, that contained so much of what everyone thought he was, looking down at you with so much trust, so much vulnerability, your heart lurched into your throat.
“You okay?” Satoru scanned your face.
You nodded, pulling him in to kiss you again, feeling his soft hair under your fingers. You held on as he increased his thrusts again. Speed, depth, power, all of it ramped back up to fainting orgasm levels.
Satoru was on the verge of tears, he couldn’t do without again. He couldn’t not cum one more time. He wouldn’t make it. He would bury himself into any hole you offered him again and again and again until he was free from this. Reaching back and pulling your leg over his shoulder, he allowed himself even deeper into you. He watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, your mouth drop open to catch hot, stolen breath from him. He wanted to make it easier, slotting his lips against yours and kissing you deep, tasting your pleasure. He swooned, his heart felt so tight and full it could burst, he was so grateful for you. For your body, your generosity, your care for him that you made look so simple. He knew he wasn’t an easy person to care about, but it seemed to him like you had never considered it cumbersome. Kissing you he felt the tears long built up by restriction begin to fall, wetting his own cheeks as well as yours.
“Satoru are y—-?” You worried against his lips, your hand in his hair moving from. A harsh grip to a soothing pet.
He shook his head, although you were right, “it’s okay. Thank you. Just thank you.”
He kissed you again and carried on thrusting, long and deep. He found your other hand and took it in his own, interlocking your fingers. Hips hard and fast, the friction not enough, he needed to touch every inch of you with every inch of himself. Your pressed against his chest as you moved to match his thrusts, putting aside the emotions that had arisen and remembering your purpose for being here. He had to break away from the kiss, pushing his forhead against yours, gasping out as you synced your thrusts together.
Oh.
Like a dim lantern in a barren desert, a non phosphorescent illusory light in a cave, the shine of climax came into his view. Still holding your hand, one of your legs over his shoulder, bending your body into a bizzare position, he chased it with everything he could. Drilling himself into your drooly, puffy pussy, again and again, causing you to cry out.
“Baby almost, cum with me, please! Pleasepleaseplease.” He squeezed your hand a bit too hard, your fingers felt cramped.
Well, they would, if you could feel them. And your leg would likely feel strained, if you could feel your hamstring still. But you couldn’t feel anything except the white hot pleasure bursting inside of you everytime he pushed against your gspot. Not breaking away from his hand, your other shot between your legs circling your clit, making you tighten up around him. Satoru cried out, the devilish squeeze of your walls felt like the last barrier between him and total bliss.
“Please baby, please.” He can’t control his voice, he doesn’t care, nothing matters when he is this close, “yes, cum around me. I need it. Cum.”
Your eyes flutter back, your head pushes against the pillow, your body erupts into cooling, overwhelming bliss.
Finally, his torment turns, the ache in his stomach unraveling. He can’t believe it, it’s finally about to be over, he feels your body shake underneath him, your hand gripping his so tightly, your cries filling his bedroom. Just at the precipice Gojo, steals one last look at your pleasure struck face, and he falls.
The lights in his bedroom bloom, swell, and overload. Bulbs bursting as he pumps himself through the most earth shattering orgasm he has ever known. Line after line of thick, long stored cum spilling from him into your waiting cunt. The room is plunged into darkness, he buries his head in your neck, panting hard.
You smile as you feel him filing you, and continue filling you. He had always cum a lot, he joked that it was his lineage begging him for continuation. But this was, beyond. Load after load of hot, desperate cum. He pushed his hips closer to you, his body yearning to become fused to yours. To never separate again.
You move one careful hand up his back, feeling the cooling sweat at his neck, the soft hair at the nape. His breath slows against your skin, but he doesn’t yet push himself off of you, keeping his heavy frame collapsed on you. But you don’t dare complain, committing the heat of his body to memory. The moonlight from the window is now, thanks to his discharge of power, the only light in the room. Your eyes adjust slowly, his features glowing in soft blue-white light. The air in the room is thick and full of both of you. Had you an eternity to indulge yourself in this moment, it would still feel too intangible to recall. But you try anyway.
Once his eyes have stopped spinning in their sockets like some knock out cartoon, Satoru pushes himself off of you, staying inside, just hovering above your body. His misty blue eyes look over every inch of you in a second. Taking in everything about this moment, how your skin reflects the moonlight, your eyes heavy and half lidded with sleep and bliss, your soft smile waiting for him to say something. But he wasn’t ready yet, he pressed his lips to yours again, firm but not desperate. He’s kissed you lavishly and with no burning sense of time. It could be called lazy if it weren’t for the focused decadence behind his mouth. He finally separates, thin silks of spit still unbroken between you two.
You brought your unheld hand to his face, cupping his cheek, watching as his eyes flutter shut. You could see tears drying on his cheeks, overwhelm and gratitude thier origin. The moon brought them forward for your viewing, you swiped a thumb under one eye. They both open under your touch, filling with something unreadable. He let go of your hand, opting to mirror your hold on your face, using one long finger to brush away a hair gelled to your sticky forehead.
“Thank you.” He reiterates, the frantic gratitudes from before nullified into a sincerity that made you nervous despite the juxtoposition of his cock still inside of you.
“Anytime, Satoru.” You can feel your cheeks heat, but your bliss doesn’t waver.
He slid out of you slowly, careful not to jostle his tingling, overstimulated length.
You both are left panting once he has been removed completely. He moved onto his side next to you, on his back, breathing up into the dark ceiling. You realize that you had no way of knowing what time it was. The thoughts of work and responsibility tomorrow we’re beginning to gnaw at the edges of your mind. You should get home soon, leave him to his new sexual freedom. You’d imagine he would be ready to pass out if he wasn’t asleep already. The expulsion of cursed energy enough to knock out the lights, enough to send him comatose.
You should know better than to underestimate him. Gojo sits up, stretching his long arms in front of him, allowing the formerly clenched back muscles to reset. Leaning back against his hands he looks down to you.
“I gotta change the bulbs and reset the fuse box. You wanna stay here? Once I’m done we can go again.” That flirty smile quickly irresistible, “orrrr, if you help me I’ll be done ever faster and I can thank you properly.”
You rolled your eyes, giggling, “I’m still recovering from the last favor I did for you. Come get me when you’re done.”
You settle back into his bed, the luxe duvet the perfect cloud-like weight on your shoulders. The smell of him clinging to every stitch of his sheets.
He moved off the bed, slipping on his underwear and making quick work of changing the burst light bulbs. This wasn’t the first time a miscalculated charge had knocked out the electrical system of his house. He had a private grid, it wasn’t that elegant but between the solar panels on the outside and a small self sustaining aquaphir underneath, it was nearly entirely self sufficient. So it was simple enough to fix when it did happen. When he switched the fuse box, the electric hum returned. Back in his bedroom he found you sleeping, curled up in his bedding, snoring softly. He moves some hair off your shoulder, fingers gentle on your thin, soft skin. Bare except for the duvet pulled over your shoulders. He crouched next to you silently, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. He was lucky to have you, someone who would help him so readily, so selflessly. Someone he could trust and confide in. It had been a long time since he could trust someone like this. Still standing over you, he watched as your stirred, sleepy eyes opening to take him in, squinting against the refreshed lighting.
“Coming back to bed?” Your sleep riddled voice charmed.
“Oh I’m not done with you yet.” He moved into bed beside you, taking your body in his arms once again, his lips fighting home under your jaw.
He really was insatiable.
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YAY!!! I hope y'all enjoyed this one. It was fun to write and fell together really easily. I am a lot less intimidated by writing gojo now. But I would love to hear yall's feedback on how it came off!! PLEASE! again, i have a much longer, more structured idea for him that I am wanting to build up to eventually so i would really love to know what yall think. Doodle <3 <3
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lenniexprime · 21 hours ago
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Rejection.
“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”- C. S. Lewis
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tfa! optimus x teen! senior! reader.
rejection fucking sucks dude. I hate getting those rejection letters. I really do. But honestly, I can't help but appreciate and be thankful for the schools I've gotten into. However, something about this is grief is only letting me cope through writing it. Share it with me, yeah?
┕━»•» «•«━━━━━┙︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ - Not Edited
Look at you... A college-bound senior, getting ready to take on whatever comes your way.
You've made it thus far...what can stop you now? The challenges are getting good grades, staying on top of things, and doing well on every test. You stayed up most nights, studying or doing homework. You've skipped out on days at the base or to hang with the rest of your friends on days or weeks before tests.
You may have messed around years before, but this year, this is your senior year. No room for mistakes, no room for too much error.
You've impressed yourself and others with such determination to get good grades on everything.
If you were being honest with yourself, that really wasn't the hard part. The hard part was the fact that you had to apply to colleges, get the right documents in, and ask for recommendation letters.
The stress took and is still taking over the majority of your whole life.
If you didn't think the weekends were getting more like weekdays before, then you definitely are now. You could barely catch a break and if you ever did it was so hard to get back into the grind of things. As time went on, you found you had little interest in doing things you enjoyed before. You looked at your video games differently, you could barely stay entertained for a whole movie, and your homework wasn't getting any more interesting.
One day, you were sitting in base, telling Sari about the dangers that are ahead of her in the years coming, but when two bots came in just as you were talking about how you found no interest in things anymore, she couldn't stop but just stare back at you while staring at the bots behind her, working on something.
You honestly didn't care about talking in front of the bots about your problems though. You didn't think they'd care that much about the situation.
Sari couldn't get the look of worry off of her little face as she stared between you and the bots. You didn't care much about it until she got up and left as soon as Bumblebee came.
You sigh and lay back on the couch, looking to the side, hearing thumps behind you.
"We are no strangers to losing interest in what we may use to enjoy due to excessive stress, but that does not mean you can't try," Ratchet says crossing his arms. "It is always nice to have a hobby or something to distract you," Optimus chimes in, his deep voice making you finally look back. You sigh.
"Also we're here, it doesn't hurt to talk to others during times of struggle," He adds.
Ratchet then walks off, leaving Optimus and you behind.
"My communication issues suck, but not only that but it's hard for me to try to communicate my teenage feelings to a 8-year-old and alien robots who have little to no knowledge of what I could be going through in here," You point at your head.
"Yes, we may not know, but at least you know you have a support system," he says quietly. "You were talking to Sari earlier, yes?" he asks rhetorically.
You close your eyes, shaking your head, putting it down. "Yeah Optimus, thank you," you mumble. "It's just hard, plus not only do I have to stay on top of grades, but I'm really nervous about being accepted to these schools," you say, hands motioning how you feel.
You look up at him again. "I'm scared of getting rejected..denied..worse," I say mumbling again.
Optimus looked at you, living in his own stress and despair, it's not easy seeing such a young human like you stress like he does. Everyone has their own responsibilities, but it gets to a point. He doesn't want you to be scared of rejection, he wants you to accept it, to learn from it, to push you through it. He remembers how he was, getting kicked out of the academy, he felt rejected and denied. He was still trying to recover. He wants you to understand that it's okay to make mistakes, to make tough decisions, or to be okay with a school denying you. It didn't define who he was (partially) so it shouldn't defy you.
"I understand your fear, I was there once, I had the pain of being denied, of being rejected almost," He went on, sitting next to you. "You have to understand that rejection and failure make us stronger people," He finishes, looking at you. "Don't be afraid to be sad, but don't let it take over your whole life. It's one moment out of many successes you're yet to have." He smiles at you. You smile back, finding some peace in what he had spoken to you. Maybe he found peace in his own words too.
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vi0l3tluvsu · 1 day ago
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“Pretty Kitty!”
Tate Langdon and service cat!reader
tags: Tate and reader being cute, kinda silly, you help manage his thoughts, cat dad Tate,
!!not proofread!!
A/n: idk I thought this idea was so fucking silly 😭😭 so here you go guys you’re welcome
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You tiptoed along the headboard, tail lightly flicking here and there until you sat just above Tate’s head. His alarm was going to go off any minute and it was your job to make sure he actually got up for school.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! “It’s another sunny day in-“ Tate groaned at the sound of his alarm and rolled over, he hadn’t pressed snooze, he completely turned it off. You stretched, leaning to paw at his hair and face, he gently swatted at your paws, attempting to get you to stop. However, this swatting only ended in you slipping from your stoop and landing on him.
“nmmmrrrrEEOW” you attempted to skitter away but got caught in the sheets and couldn’t get free. Tate lazily sat up on his elbows and giggled at you. You growled slightly, eyeing him.
“Okay, okay, I’m up, alright?” Tate pushed himself up and flipped the covers onto you, wrapping like a baby in the thin green blanket that he’d been hoping you would land on. You purred as he held you while he prepared to get ready for the day; brushing his teeth, combing his wild blonde hair, picking out clothes. Every item he contemplated wearing he asked you about. “What do you think? Is it a blue sweater day? No, I don’t think so either.” It was ironic, you always thought it was a blue sweater day.
Once he was dressed Tate made sure to get you dressed too. Since you came with him everywhere, you too had a closet. It was a repainted American Girl Doll closet filled to the brim with dresses, sweaters, and rain accessories. Sometimes, Tate would layout options for you to wear and let you paw at whichever one you wanted, but not today. Today was inportant for him, it was his first day of Junior year and he needed you to look the best you could so people wouldn’t stare as much. It wasn’t like you ever left your carrier unless you alerted, but his worry overpowered any rational thought about you not actually being seen. He pulled out three options, one was a green and black plaid pleaded dress, it matched his sweater. He sighed, putting it back. The second was a wool, light blue sweater, when he pulled it out you meowed and weaved between his legs to stop him from putting it away. He smiled, taking notice to your interest.
“You wanna wear this one?” He cooed, scooping you up. You meowed happily and pawed at the sweater, he rolled his eyes and put you down on the bed to put the sweater on you. After the struggle to get you into the sweater you insisted on wearing, he put you on his shoulder and the two of you went downstairs to eat breakfast before he put you in your carrier and rode his skateboard to school and you had to listen to teachers drone on about how their summer was and every class syllabus.
“I told you, you cannot carry that mangy thing around like a doll.” Constance was leaning on the kitchen sink, sipping on her morning coffee when Tate rounded the corner, you were comfortably laying on him like a weird scarf, stretched out around his neck, tail flicking about. “Seriously, Tate, what if it nicks you.” Tate huffed, rolling his eyes as he lifted you and placed you on the floor. He poured you some breakfast and then made himself some, talking with Constance as he ate. You finished quickly, turning and rubbing up against his legs, meowing and purring to get him to pick you up again. Constance sighed, a disgusted look coming across her face, “you coddle that thing too much.” Tate huffed again, bending down and finishing his breakfast next to you on the floor. You curled up in his lap and purred, calming the small anger building inside of him.
“I’m going to school.” Tate slummed as he picked you up and placed his bowl on the island counter, bragging his bag from the entrance way before heading outside and placing you in your carrier. He slug you over his shoulder and rode his skateboard to school.
For September it was surprisingly warm, the small wind from the skateboard making you feel slightly uncomfortable in the heat. “Almost there!” Tate called down to you as he came to a slow stop at a crosswalk. A group of teens came up next to the two of you, kids from his school.
“Nice pussy!” The driver shouted, “guess that’s the only kind you can get!” Tate turned to yell something back but as the light turned green they sped off down the road. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth and riding onward to the school’s parking lot. He cooled down a bit as he walked to his advisory period, it was a little hard for students to understand why he had two bags, until you meowed through the mesh window at him. His face flushed as you pawed at the walls of your small enclosure, you’d been trained all summer to tolerate it, and you could! But not when Tate was obviously becoming worked up by all the people coming in and out.
He attempted to hush you, nudging the bag for you to stop pawing and mewing, but when that didn’t work he just became more embarrassed. “Come on.. hey.. stop..” he whispered, reaching a hand into your carrier. You started licking his hand, rubbing your head against it and purring. His embarrassment went away a little as you did this. Mission accomplished. He smiled, petting and stroking your fur until you rolled over and went to sleep at the sight of him being calm.
A couple of periods went by without a hitch, you awoke a few times and Tate fed you your wet food, gave you his coat, but it seemed overall the first day was going to be alright. During his lunch period, Tate took the two of you to the library, unpacking his lunch and yours.
“Alright Pretty, time to eat for real.” He poured your wet food into a small dish and unwrapped his own food as you started to eat. When you looked back up, the teens from that morning were there.
“A cat and its little bitch, huh?” One laughed, reaching over and picking you up by the scruff. “Aww so helpless.” A second said, throwing their head back in laughter.
“Hey! Give them back!” Tate stood, looking from you to the boy to you. “You can’t do that, they’re working.” Tate started to approach, but the second boy grabbed him by the collar, holding him just too far from you to catch if you fell. “Seriously! This isn’t cool.” Tate stuttered through his sentence, he was starting to get worked up but you couldn’t sooth him from here.
“Poor Tate, right? With a service animal. I bet you just carry the cat around for fun.” He shook you slightly, causing a small hiss to escape you. “Ohh kitty’s got claws?” He poked at your stomach and as a split reaction, despite being trained, you bit him. You weren’t supposed to be away from Tate anyhow, and you were being threatened. “Ow! Fucking thing.” He dropped you, and once you hit the floor, kicked at you. Tate’a emotions bubbled to the surface and, before anyone could react, he punched the first boy in the face full force. His fist retracting on impact as he shook out the pain. “Aw FUCK!” The boy shouted as he hit the floor, the second was quicker on his feet, sending a hand across Tate’s face when Tate bent down to get you.
Tate’s thinking was just a little faster, however, and he hit the second kid square in the gut, sending him to the ground too. You were curled up under the table when he bent down, careful of where he touched you. “Are you alright, pretty kitty?” He cooed gently at you, putting a hand near your face to smell him. You got up slightly, crawling over to him and rubbing your head against his arms as he scooped you up once again. You purred, cuddling up to his chest and slowly falling asleep, a hand brushing on your fur gently, kissing your head, and coddling you.
The end because I’ve had this wip saved for awhile >_<
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friedchops · 14 hours ago
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Toxic Suguru on the mind..
18+ MDNI - DEAD DOVE, baby trapping, fem reader, fwb, implied/referenced cheating, misogynistic content?
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• Suguru who comforts you after your boyfriend dumps you. You’re a sobbing mess. You thought you two would be together forever, thought the ring was coming, that you’d be his wife.
• Suguru who strikes up a drunken deal with you after your boyfriend dumped you. You’ve both been lonely, pent up, needy, and you’re friends, have been for years. What’s not to love?
• Suguru who is the best partner you’ve ever had. Fucks you however you ask, be it gentle and slow, murmuring how good you feel, how well you take it, how beautiful you are, or hard and fast, telling you you’re made for it, he loves your body, never wants to let it go, ect
• Suguru who’s the best person to ever get aftercare from. He’s all loving kisses and running you baths and making sure you drink water.
• Suguru who can tell you’re wanting more, can see you glancing at couples in grocery stores, restaurants and rewatching rom coms, staring longingly at flowers, liking posts about baby fever
• Suguru who loves the cookies you bake, the leftovers you bring him to his work, the little notes you draw in his bathroom mirror.
• Suguru who knows you’d be the perfect little housewife/girlfriend/partner, just not for him.
Suguru can see it now. You, clad in a pretty little plaid dress, a baby on your hip, stirring dinner at the stove. Maybe your husband works white collar- he’s an accountant, works in finance, maybe even a lawyer, he makes clean money, good money. He’s vanilla. Brings you flowers. They’re always the wrong ones though, because that’s just how men are.
You’d be so proud of your pretty little diamond ring, showing it off on social media, fingers intertwined with your husband’s. The problem is, you’d get lonely. The kids would go to school, the silence of the house ringing in your ears. You’d get a pet cat but he’s too relaxed to care. You need attention. A special kind.
And unfortunately, your sweet, loving, pays-all-the-bills husband can’t make you cum. Not like Suguru could. He can fuck you, sure, but he can’t bring you to pure bliss. It’s fine though, he’s got money. Besides it’s too late, you’re married now.
Suguru can imagine some suburban chump coming home, calling you honey, baby, sweetheart, all the things Suguru used to. He can imagine you swelling with another man’s child.
No. He won’t let that happen. He won’t let you get that little taste of happiness.
It’s a terrible thing of him to do. To poke holes in his condoms. He just can’t imagine losing you, he can’t imagine letting you go. He knows you’ll be so scared, so disappointed. To have a child is one thing, but to have a child out of wedlock? Well, that’s frowned upon. But Suguru, oh, he’d hold you, rubbing soothing circles on your hips while you sob into his chest.
“My parents are going to kill me,” you manage between sobs, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. He’s oily from a hard day at work in the shop, he’s older than you too, even if just by a few years.
“Shh, baby, I know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, not letting you see the cruel of amusement glint in his eye. “I know, sweetheart.”
He’d take care of everything; the bills, the kids, you. the only catch? You might not get that ring. You might just get two kids and a codependent relationship. Or who knows, maybe he’d show you off, introducing you as his wife even if you’re just engaged, slapping a ring on your finger before your first prenatal appointment.
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unsen · 1 year ago
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someone did some fucked up shit like real fucked up shit then stopped responding and when i realized they weren’t gonna respond i told them “i’ll haunt you like your dead grandma” and apparently that’s the worst thing anyone has ever said to this person and im sorry girl but i hope someone who isn’t a nice person is mean to you one of these days
#so this fucking bitch ok#her bf got kicked out of his house with he was staying with her#she rents a room and her roommates said they don’t give a fuck if he stays a bit#last night i let him stay a few days bc she was ‘overstimulated’#keep in mind the bf is homeless rn since he got kicked out#he stays a few days#she picks him up right before new years#few days later he calls me up and tells me she told him she’s gonna take 3 years to focus on school and worth both full time#and only see him two days out of the month#and where does she tell him he’s going?#my house#when was i asked about this?#never#so she drops him off on the 10th#picks him up a few days later again#and while they’re leaving he says ‘i’ll be back on the 19th’#so i guess that was when he was supposed to live with me#in a studio apartment#for 3 years#a day after she dropped him off i hit my social limit#i messaged her ‘imma need you to come pick him up after work’#she starts spamming me asking me what’s going on#then before i had even told him i asked her she calls him and starts yelling at him telling him she’s not picking him up#and to go to a homeless shelter#so i tell her dude he’s your boyfriend he needs help just help him#and she’s like i can’t pick him up im sorry#and i was like dude no im putting up a boundary you need to come get your man#AND YOU KNOW WHAT SHE FUCKING SAID?#‘i’m putting up a boundary too im not picking him up’#bitch you dump your boyfriend at my house without asking me you don’t get to put up boundary
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fushitoru · 2 months ago
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infect me with your love
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pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader
summary ⸺ you have always existed in gojo satoru’s shadow. he is a physics prodigy, a person that everyone endlessly admires for his intelligence and charisma, and you hate him for taking the spotlight that you deserve to share with him. but it all changes one day at 5:07AM at your starbucks job when gojo barges in, ordering ridiculously sweet drinks and posing existential questions. is there more to gojo that meets the eye, and is it linked to the vigilante swinging around New York City?
warnings ⸺ college au, academic rivals to lovers, SMUT, tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, basically the holy trinity, reader works at Starbucks (BOYCOTT tho), set in NYC, both reader and gojo are physics majors, mentions of SA, attempt at SA on reader but nothing too graphic, some violence, gojo swings reader across NYC so might trigger fear of heights?. SPIDER-MAN KISS SPIDERMAN KISS, injury and mentions of blood, mentions of gun, inappropriate use of webs LOL, fingering, oral, p in v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied
playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics
a/n thank you for @avaults my POOKIE for beta reading this. this has been a journey and my first longfic and i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it it's my baby:')
if u don’t wanna read the smut just skip the part after they make up, it’s not necessary to the story and is the ending scene. but just to be clear, minors dni.
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist | spiderman!gojo masterlist
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fun fact: starbucks opens at 5am.
of course, that depends on your local hours and where you live, but in the campus starbucks you worked at, your manager fortunately didn’t really care if you showed up to your opening shift a bit late. after all, no professor or undergrad is waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a fuckin coffee; if they really needed a pick me up, they’d go to get the free alcohol at one of the frats that was still partying. 
matter of fact, your manager didn’t really give a fuck what you did as long as you didn’t get the shop blown up or the matcha spilled (it was expensive). this meant you could leisurely wake up at 4:45am and set up the display muffins and cake pops when you arrived in the shop at 5:20am. really, the manager ought to reduce the hours because all you do is finish your readings for your gen ed history classes on the canvas app on your phone. so, really you get paid for doing your homework on your shifts—not that you’re complaining or anything.
that is, until gojo satoru.
first, let’s get the record straight about who gojo is. gojo is a physics second-year—same as you–who is the bane of your existence. up until a few months ago, you never saw gojo satoru outside of classes (where he was dozing off) unless you happened to show up at a frat party, which was only a few occurrences when you got peer pressured by your friends. clearly, he was a “work hard, party hard” type person because he frequents the frats more than the library while having the grades to make up for it because he’s a prodigy. he’s charismatic and smart as fuck; right out of middle school he was studying manifolds and abstract algebra while the rest of the high school freshmen were learning the quadratic equation and the concept of variables. he probably learned what gravity was at age of two and was doing research in quantum field theory by the time he got into college. 
take the last time you saw him outside of class, at office hours with professor yaga.
the air in professor yaga’s office is thick with the scent of old textbooks, the hum of the overhead lights adding to the familiar quiet. you’ve been waiting all week for this chance, and you’re armed with a question that’s supposed to signal i’ve done my homework. you lean forward, trying to project confidence as you ask, “i read in your last paper that you’re working on optimizing error correction in quantum computing systems. is there a reason you prioritized stabilizer codes over surface codes?”
professor yaga’s brow lifts, impressed, and you can feel the warmth of his approval starting to settle around you. “ah,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised, “you’ve actually read it. that’s... a complicated question.” he leans back, launching into an explanation, and for a second, you think this might actually be it—the moment he notices you for your dedication, your depth of knowledge.
but then, the door creaks open behind you.
you tense, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach even before you turn around. of course, it’s gojo satoru, strolling in like he owns the place. his bag is slung over one shoulder, and he’s flashing that easy grin that never seems to falter. he spares you the briefest glance before zeroing in on professor yaga.
professor yaga’s face shifts instantly, a mixture of annoyance and resignation flashing in his eyes as he sighs, “gojo. nice of you to join us.”
“hey, i was just passing by,” gojo says casually, though he’s clearly anything but. he doesn’t pass by anywhere without making an entrance. “thought i’d check in on how everyone’s doing.”
the glint in yaga’s eyes sharpens, and he fixes gojo with a look. “when’s that last problem set coming in, satoru? i’ve had enough late assignments from you for one semester.”
at this, another professor at a nearby desk chuckles, casting an amused glance at gojo. “don’t push him too hard, yaga,” he says as if gojo’s delinquency is something charming, a shared inside joke. “kid’s already got the department’s highest scores without trying.”
oh, for god’s fucking sake. you force yourself not to roll your eyes, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag as you sink back in your chair. of course, all it takes is for him to show up and somehow you’re rendered invisible. just minutes ago, professor yaga was engaging with you, treating you as if you might actually belong in this room with your carefully constructed question. now, he’s utterly distracted, entirely absorbed by whatever pseudo-flattering insults he’s throwing at gojo. and, for the record, that stupid, balding professor is wrong. you have the same fucking scores as gojo, so you’re equals.
you’re not even sure gojo realizes he’s doing it—that he has this magnetic, obnoxious effect on everyone in a room. but that’s exactly what grates on you the most. he pulls all eyes to him, like he’s some cosmic force everyone’s compelled to admire. and you? you’re just… there. not that it’s any different than the usual experiences you’ve had as a woman in stem, always feeling like you have to prove yourself five times over. but somehow, gojo makes it worse.
and he does it all effortlessly, like physics is some sort of playground where he can breeze through research and exams, sprinkling charisma wherever he goes. he’s probably off writing his own theories on manifolds while everyone else is struggling to keep up with quantum mechanics. meanwhile, here you are, clawing for every shred of recognition, only to watch it fizzle as soon as he steps into the room.
he flashes a grin at professor yaga. “i’ll get it in,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “i’m just, you know, prioritizing. some of us have… extracurriculars.” he doesn’t wink, but he might as well.
you resist the urge to scoff, sinking deeper into your seat as the frustration bubbles up, sharp and hot. it’s not like you’re jealous. you’d rather endure anything than admit that. but watching gojo waltz in and immediately siphon off any attention you’d managed to earn feels like a slap. if he could just stop showing up, or better yet, stop pretending to be so casually brilliant, maybe—just maybe—you’d have a chance at something other than this routine invisibility.
you let out a huff, pretending to check the time, imagining you had somewhere better to be. you have brilliant, observant blue eyes following you out the door, but you’re too busy trying to keep yourself together until you reach your dorm, where you ugly cry it out.
which, of course, brings you to mornings like this one, where you actually do have to be somewhere. namely, behind the counter at the campus starbucks, opening up shop while most of the world is still asleep. you catch sight of the green mermaid logo ahead, just visible through the dim haze of a 5:07 a.m. chill.
and right beneath it, there’s a familiar head of silver hair.
your eyes have to double take on the man who seems to be looking a bit slouched, tired and leaning against the light pole while tapping his foot. the muscular yet tall stature and white hair are unmistakable; it’s the same ones you’ve dreamed about throttling. but you’re so confused as to why he’s there that you just decide to wordlessly walk towards the store and open up, ignoring his presence until his voice cuts through the morning silence.
“doesn’t this store open up at 5?” his voice sounds tired and groggy, you notice. 
“uh, yea,” you answer tentatively, shrugging. “but, um, no one comes until 7 so i show up late.”
his eyes narrow and somewhat playfully (well, as playful as he can sound at the ass crack of dawn anyways), he asks, “don’t you know time is of the essence? seems pretty irresponsible to me that you’re not showing up on time.”
you just stare at him for a bit because, after all, this is the guy you’ve been having the murderous equivalent of wet dreams about for the past year talking to you in a friendly, joking, familiar way. needless to say, you’re at a loss of words in your slightly flustered state, so all that comes out is a short “sorry” before you’re walking in, getting ready to put on your apron and setting the oven on to heat up the croissants. 
gojo follows in after you, choosing to sit at the table closest to the counter. he sets the backpack he had on his back down, rummaging through and whipping out his laptop and plugging it in. it’s a heavy old thing, and gojo’s biceps strain as he pulls it out and you almost snort when looking at it in its entirety. a gaming laptop.
 but you don’t do that, because laughing at someone who’s a stranger to you would be mean, no matter how much you hate him, so you resort to setting up the counter and getting some powders out. bending over, you get the newly shipped box of cake pops, deigning to put them out on display until you’re interrupted with a cough.
you turn, looking inquisitively at gojo until he points down to the counter, indicating that he wants to order. you mumble, “just a second!” before you continue hauling the box to put it on the top counter where you can easily unpack it and brush your hands, walking up to gojo and getting the system ready to take his order. 
and your fingers are poised on the buttons until you realize that no order is coming out of his mouth. you blink, and he blinks, keeping a stoic face that nevertheless poorly conceals an amused expression.
“…what can i get you?” 
at that, he pouts. “no good morning? no chirpy hello?”
you just stare at him for a good second. what the fuck?
“what?” gojo frowns. “shouldn’t you do that to every customer?” you realize belatedly you’ve said it out loud in your shock, but shake it off nonetheless. 
the silence lingers after gojo’s teasing comment, making you acutely aware of the odd situation: you’re standing there in your work apron, face-to-face with the man you’ve imagined taking down in your head a thousand times, and yet here he is, tired but playfully trying to chat you up. you should hate this—he’s getting under your skin, but for some reason, you just feel unsettled, disturbed that he’s so human.
you don’t trust your voice to not crack while making eye contact with him, so, instead, you focus on your screen. you settle on a simple, flat, “morning,” without a hint of cheerfulness, staring down at the register like it’s your lifeline.
gojo’s eyebrow quirks at your half-hearted greeting, but he says nothing, opting instead to study you with an amused glint. you can feel his gaze, like a weight on your skin, and it almost makes you shiver. he leans forward a little, propping his elbows on the counter, his posture loose but expectant. his playful energy is barely masking something beneath it, something harder.
gojo's grin is wide, almost boyish, and it makes your stomach churn more than it should.
“see? was that so hard?” he says, leaning forward on his elbows like he’s settling in for a chat. his tone is too friendly for someone who’s never exchanged more than a glance with you in class—someone you’ve been actively avoiding whenever possible.
you scowl, moving to the register to finally punch in his order. “what would you like?”
“hmm...” he taps his chin, dragging out the silence. he’s enjoying this, that much is obvious. “surprise me.”
you blink, fingers still poised over the buttons. “surprise you?”
“yeah,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “you work here. you know what’s good.”
you want to throttle him. really, truly throttle him. there’s no way this is real—no way the gojo satoru is sitting in front of you at 5:07 in the morning, asking you to surprise him with a starbucks order like he’s some quirky regular.
and yet, here you are.
“fine,” you mutter, punching in the order for the sweetest, most ridiculous concoction you can think of. caramel drizzle, extra whipped cream, a pump of every syrup in the back room—you’re not going easy on him. “that’ll be eight dollars.”
he doesn’t blink at the ridiculous price. of course, he doesn’t.
pulling out his phone, he taps it against the card reader and flashes you another grin. “thanks, i’m sure it’ll be great.”
you barely resist the urge to roll your eyes. “uh-huh.”
as you move to make the drink, the silence between you stretches uncomfortably. you’ve spent so much time thinking about gojo, despising him, that now that he’s here, right in front of you, you don’t know how to act. and the worst part? he seems perfectly at ease, completely unfazed by the fact that you’ve spent the better part of a year dreaming of his downfall. he’s back to looking at his stupid heavy ahh gaming laptop, and as you move over to put in copious amounts of caramel pumps, you notice that he’s on cool math games playing fireboy and watergirl and almost snort out loud. he’s locked in on his game, his legs moving up and down anxiously, reminiscent of an ipad kid.
after a few minutes of assembling his monstrosity of a drink, you slide it across the counter. “here,” you say, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.
gojo raises an eyebrow at the drink, the sheer volume of whipped cream threatening to spill over the lid. “wow,” he says, sounding genuinely impressed. “you really went all out.”
“you said to surprise you.”
“i did,” he admits, grabbing the cup and taking a slow, deliberate sip. his eyes widen slightly at the overly sweet taste, and for a brief moment, you think you’ve won.
but then he smiles again, that same irritatingly carefree smile, and you know you haven’t. 
“so,” gojo begins, leaning back in his chair like he’s settling in for a long conversation. “what’s a genius like you doing working the early shift at starbucks?”
your hands freeze mid-clean, and you glance at him sharply. genius?
you can’t tell if he’s being sincere or mocking you—probably the latter, considering who he is—but the word still lingers in the air between you, unsettling.
you scoff, trying to brush it off. “gotta pay the bills somehow,” you mutter, going back to wiping down the counter. but gojo’s gaze is heavy on you, and you can tell he’s not letting it go.
you glance up at him. “look, i like having time to think in the mornings. it’s quiet. besides, no one’s lining up for coffee before 7, so it’s not like i’m missing anything.”
gojo chuckles softly, but there’s something off about it. “thinking time, huh?” he repeats your words, but there’s a strange edge to them, like he’s mulling them over. in fact, you think you just realize that he’s been acting oddly this entire morning, restlessness evident in his figure. he taps his fingers on the table, his eyes flickering to the window, watching the gray morning light spill into the shop.
“doesn’t it ever feel like…” he trails off, brow furrowing slightly. “i don’t know… like you should be doing something else? like… something more?”
his question hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken, but you get the feeling he’s not talking about you. there’s something in his voice, something that sounds like he’s grappling with his own thoughts, with his own place in the world.
for a moment, you’re tempted to brush him off. to tell him he’s overthinking things, that he’s gojo satoru and he already has everything laid out for him. but something stops you. maybe it’s the way he looks—his usual confidence slightly cracked at the edges, his playful tone masking something else. something deeper.
you shrug, turning back to the counter. “i mean… it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”
there’s a pause, and you can feel the weight of your words sinking in. gojo goes quiet, really quiet, and when you glance back at him, his usual smirk is gone. he’s just… staring at you, eyes narrowed slightly like he’s trying to figure you out.
“just… showing up, huh?” he repeats softly, almost like he’s testing the words. his fingers stop tapping, and he leans back in his chair, his gaze unfocused, like he’s somewhere else entirely. somewhere in his own head.
you don’t say anything else. you’ve said your piece, and somehow, you know it hit deeper than either of you expected. there’s a strange silence between you now, not uncomfortable, but heavy with understanding.
gojo stands up after a long pause, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. he looks at you, his usual grin slipping back into place, but it’s softer now. less cocky. more real.
“maybe you’re right,” he says, and this time there’s no teasing in his voice. “sometimes it’s enough just to show up.”
and with that, he gives you a small nod, turning and heading out into the cold morning. the door swings shut behind him, and for a second, you just stand there, staring after him.
something’s shifted. you don’t know what it is, but it feels like the start of something. something bigger than just a rivalry.
you shake your head, turning back to the counter. it’s too early for this shit.
“you know, i didn’t get your name.”
gojo’s voice cuts through the low hum of the espresso machine as he leans against the counter, that same insufferable grin plastered across his face. he’s here again, of course, only this time it’s during your closing shift. the place is quiet, almost deserted except for the occasional customer who swings by for a quick coffee before heading back out into the cold.
you look up from the equipment you were cleaning, already annoyed. “i’m pretty sure we’ve shared at least one class every semester.”
you weren’t trying to hide the pettiness. gojo, for all his academic genius, clearly couldn’t be bothered to remember you—a recurring face in his orbit. it’s not like you were expecting him to remember you, especially among the sea of faces in lecture halls, but something about the way he strolled in, acting like this was just some cute, quirky meet-cute, got under your skin.
gojo quirks an eyebrow in confusion, his gaze drifting up toward the ceiling as if searching the recesses of his mind for your name—only to come up empty. “are you a grad student?”
you flash him an exasperated look. “just for that, i’m not telling you.”
grabbing a towel to wipe your hands, you step out from behind the barista counter, heading towards the trash can just behind him to restock the straws. as you make your way to the supply room, you can feel his eyes following your every move. to your surprise, gojo starts walking toward you, his presence looming as you dump the straws into the container.
it isn’t until you turn around that you realize he’s standing right next to you, bent comically at the waist and squinting at something on your chest. heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks as you realize his proximity and move to take a step back. 
he wasn’t ogling you (thank god), but instead, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron.
"ah," he says, straightening up with a triumphant grin. “there it is. y/n, huh?” the way his mouth rolls over your name slowly makes you feel a bit weird, because after all, this is the guy you’ve shit talked about in your diary finally acknowledging you existed, but before you can reflect on the feeling, you bristle again in annoyance. 
“really? you had to get that close just to read my name?”
gojo doesn’t seem fazed by your annoyance, in fact, it only seems to amuse him further. “hey, i was just trying to be thorough. gotta make sure i get it right, you know?” his grin widens, and you swear he’s enjoying this way too much.
“thorough. sure.” you turn away, trying to busy yourself with the straws again, but the heat still lingers on your face. his proximity had been… unexpected. and a little too close for comfort.
when you’re done with the straws, you steel the courage to turn your body so you’re facing him, making an indication with your hands for him to move out of your way. instead of him giving you space to leave the cramped corner, he leans against the counter now like he practically owns the place. in doing so, he effectively pins you against the corner of the coffee shop, leaving you no option but to fiddle with the straws while pointedly avoiding his gaze, but not before you see the pout on his face. “you’re not going to ask me for my name?”
“i know it. it’s gojo.” you immediately curse yourself for letting your lips loose.
fuck. he squints his eyes in what you perceive as suspicion. “how do you know my name?”
“i saw it on your credit card information.” you couldn’t exactly tell him how you’ve stalked him (as well as how inefficient you found a function in his 6th grade robotics code), so that would be a plausible enough reason. 
but gojo, of course, doesn’t let up. “so, y/n,” he starts. “you going to the party next week? you know, for halloweekend?”
ah, halloweekend. the ultimate weekend for getting excuses to dress slutilly, excessively drink, and get laid. at your college, it was an even bigger deal, with people partying for all three days of the week’s end as well as the weekend before and after halloween. you shook your head. “i don’t think so.” that phys 321 assignment was not going to finish itself, nor were parties really your scene.
“what?” he immediately crosses his arms across his chest, frowning and leaning closer to you to squint at you. “why?”
you sigh inwardly, awkward at the prospect of him bugging you further about your life. “i’m bu—”
you’re interrupted by the sound of the door opening and instinctively move to get behind the counter to take the new customer’s order; at first, you thank the heavens that you got a distraction from gojo, that you’re not alone anymore, but seeing who the customer was, the hope extinguishes like a candle face with wind.
you both see a man swagger in, the same guy you’ve noticed hanging around far too often lately. his eyes immediately lock onto you, and a slow, sleazy grin spreads across his face.
“hey, look who’s still here,” the man says, sauntering over to the counter like he owns the place. “my favorite barista.”
you tense, forcing a smile. “what can i get you?”
he doesn’t answer right away, his gaze sliding down your body in a way that makes your skin crawl. “i was thinking…” he drawls, leaning in closer than necessary, “you and i should hang out. you’re always here, and i’m always here, so it’s like fate or something, right?”
your stomach churns, and you take a small step back, maintaining your composure. “i’m good, thanks.”
but he doesn’t let up, leaning further across the counter. “come on, don’t be like that. just one drink. you deserve it after a long day.”
“i really can’t—”
“don’t be shy,” he interrupts, a grin spreading wider. “i’m a nice guy, i promise.”
before you can think of another polite rejection, gojo steps forward, his body language shifting entirely. the playful air around him evaporates, replaced by something colder, more dangerous. he positions himself squarely between you and the guy, effectively cutting off the man’s view of you.
“she said no,” gojo says, his voice firm, low. “so why don’t you fuck off?”
the sleazy guy blinks, clearly not expecting the sudden shift. his smile fades, and he glares at gojo, sizing him up like he’s considering pushing back. but one glance at gojo’s unwavering stare, and the guy decides it’s not worth it. with a muttered curse, he turns and leaves, the door swinging shut behind him.
you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the guy’s been bothering you routinely; part of you thinks that he’s still not going to leave you alone, but the rest of you visibly relaxes, the weight of this guy’s harassment lifting off your shoulders under gojo’s protection.
gojo turns back to you, the usual teasing smirk creeping back onto his face, though his eyes are still sharp. “you okay?”
“yeah,” you manage, though your voice is quieter than you’d like. “thanks for that.”
“don’t mention it.” he shrugs it off like it was nothing, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now—something protective. “i know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself, but i figured i’d speed things up a bit.”
you roll your eyes, trying to shake off the tension. “you’re such a hero, gojo.”
“always,” he replies with a wink. and just like that, the moment’s lightened again, the balance between you restored, though there’s a subtle shift in the air. something unspoken between the two of you—an understanding, maybe.
you don’t acknowledge it out loud, but as you go back to restocking, you find yourself glancing at him more than before. and for the first time in… well, ever, you don’t completely mind his presence.
fast forward a few hours, and after a bit of conversation, gojo finally leaves the fine institution that is your campus starbucks. right now, you’re alone and finishing cleaning up. you lock up, the starbucks finally closed, finishing your last task for the night. it’s quiet—too quiet, actually, with the usual streetlights casting strange shadows across the empty sidewalk. the air feels heavy, like something unseen is lingering just out of reach, watching from the dark. you shake it off, telling yourself you’re just tired and letting your nerves get to you.
as you start your walk back to your dorm, the feeling only grows. the street’s nearly empty, and with each step, the silence presses in closer. it’s fine, you tell yourself, picking up your pace. but then you hear it: the echo of footsteps, faint but unmistakable. heart pounding, you speed up, every instinct telling you to just get back. almost there. you just have to cross the alley—
“hey there,” a voice drawls, and your stomach sinks. a hand moves to grab at your shoulder, making you turn quickly. what meets your vision is the same guy from earlier, his grin widening in a way that makes your skin crawl.
you try to move out of his grip, but he grabs you harder, cutting off any escape. “aw, don’t be like that. i just wanted some company.”
your throat’s dry, but you manage, “i said no.”
he doesn’t even pretend to listen, his gaze trailing over you with that same leering interest. “no need to be so uptight. i could make this fun for you.”
your back hits the wall of the alley. trapped. he leans in, his breath warm and sour against your face, one hand reaching out as he says something sleazy that you can barely hear over the pounding in your ears—
and then a voice cuts in from above, all easy humor. “y’know, i always thought this city’s trash problem was bad, but this is something else.”
your heart leaps in your chest at the small flicker of hope, that someone has the balls to try to rescue you. but as you—and this creep—turn, you find no evidence of another party present, only his mysterious presence. 
“who’s there?” the guy snarls, his grip tightening so much that you wince. “why don’t you get lost if you know what’s good for you—”
“dude, don’t you have any rizz?” the mysterious boy retorts.the stranger has a youthful voice, someone of your age.  “the way you have to resort to sexual harassment is just sad. you guys are always sooo predictable, you’re so gonna tell me to scram or something.”
the man scowls, hand leaving your arm in an effort to search for the stranger in the dark. “why don’t you mind your own business, punk—”
and he’s interrupted, because a shiny, silver something flings out in the darkness and lands on his face, sending his arms in a frenzy to uncover what it is. the man rips the sticky, silver webbing off his face with a growl, looking around wildly, his expression shifting from confusion to anger. his eyes dart through the dark alley, searching for the source of that cocky voice, but there’s nothing—just shadows and the faint flicker of a streetlamp somewhere down the block.
“who the hell are you?” he snaps, twisting his neck as if he could scare whoever’s hiding out there into the open. “show yourself, you bastard!”
a chuckle echoes from the darkness, bouncing off the brick walls. “wow, real tough guy, huh? but you should work on those anger issues. they’re, uh…a bit unbecoming.”
the man spins around, and another burst of webbing flies out from somewhere unseen, sticking to his shoulder this time. he yanks it off with a frustrated grunt, his head whipping from side to side as he tries to locate the stranger.
“you think this is funny?” he spits, voice raised in a mix of fear and fury.
“depends. do you?” the voice is closer now, almost like the stranger is right above you, yet no one’s there. “or is this just a big overreaction? all i did was suggest you rethink your approach. go to therapy or sum’.”
the man snarls, fists clenched, starting to look downright unhinged. “get down here and say that to my face, punk!”
“as you wish.”
with a soft thump, a figure drops from above, landing directly in front of the guy in a low crouch. in the dim light, all you see at first are the blue and black accents on the otherwise white suit, his head tilting up, illuminated just enough that his white, wide eyes glow with a certain playful menace. and then, your eyes widen as you gasp to yourself. 
you’ve seen him before.
okay, pause.
you’re a busy college student, one who stays entrenched in the bubble of upcoming exams, assignments, and problem sets that you don’t check the news often. in the off chance you do turn from your usual consumption of social media during your breaks to the news, you only have time to read the big headlines.
so you did read somewhere that in your university’s city of new york city, there was a masked menan—vigilante that had beat up a few guys near a shawarma joint or prevented some shootings at a nightclub. new york city was full of incompetent cops that were on the lookout for him (a/n acabbbbbb) since this guy was a vigilante, some kind of superhero slinging around on webs. some name—spiderman.
but before you could read more into the article, your soul almost left your body when you got a canvas notification saying your midterm was graded, so that was the end of that.
alright, pause over. back to now.
“hi!” spiderman chirps, giving him a friendly wave before ducking just as the man throws a punch. the swing goes wide, and spiderman straightens up with a disappointed sigh. “see, this is why i’m the one with the web powers. you’d hurt yourself with these moves.”
without warning, the man charges again, swinging in rapid succession, but each one misses as spiderman easily sidesteps, practically dancing around him. “oof, dude, how did you make it this far in life with reflexes like that?” he ducks another blow, slipping behind the guy to give him a light tap on the shoulder as he passes.
the man stumbles, eyes flashing with frustration, and lets out a roar, reaching down to pick up a loose brick from the alley floor. he raises it above his head, face twisted in a snarl.
“oh, so we’re improvising now?” spiderman quips, and before the man can bring the brick down, a strand of webbing shoots out, sticking to the brick and yanking it from his grasp. it flies off somewhere into the alley, landing with a dull clatter.
the guy stumbles forward, off balance, and spiderman takes the opportunity to web his feet to the ground, immobilizing him in place. the man struggles, pulling his legs, but he’s stuck fast.
“ever heard of boundaries?” spiderman asks, tilting his head with mock innocence. “or, like, self-restraint? you should look into it.”
the man glares, seething, still struggling against the webs. “you think you’re some kinda hero?” he sneers.
spiderman shrugs, glancing over at you, catching your gaze in a way that makes you feel both strangely comforted and seen. “nah, hero’s a big word. i’m just your friendly neighborhood guy with slightly above-average reflexes.”
with a frustrated yell, the man finally wrenches one arm free and makes a desperate lunge, his fist connecting with spiderman’s side. spiderman lets out a small grunt but only wobbles slightly before grinning. “okay, buddy, playtime’s over.”
before the man can even react, spiderman sends out another web, this time at his wrist, effectively pinning him to the alley wall. he struggles, face twisted in anger, but spiderman just raises a gloved hand to his lips as if hushing a child. then, in the lull that follows, you remember the thick quantum mechanics textbook in your bag. without thinking, you yank it out and, in a burst of adrenaline, swing it at the man’s head. the book lands with a solid thud, and he slumps, finally, into silence.
spiderman looks at the unconscious man, then at the textbook in your hand. he lets out a low whistle. “you know, i’ve always thought textbooks were a weapon of choice, but that’s next-level dedication.” that’s when you realize just how tall he is compared to you, and you can’t help your excitement when you realize that he’s here in the flesh.
“nice hit, by the wa—”
“it’s you!” you exclaim. 
“what?” he sputters, white eyes widening almost comically. “me? oh,” then he straightens up, “yea, yea. just your friendly neighborhood spiderman. rescuing pretty girls from creeps, kinda my thing. ” he shrugs.
you continue, excitedly, “right, you’re the one on the news—” you move your hand to point at him but quickly wince, the pain of the man’s grip catching up to you. 
he doesn’t miss the movement, eyes squinting at you. “hey, we’ll have to get you home. do you trust me?”
you look at him, clutching your arm in pain, and really take a moment to check him out. he’s saved you, he’s probably six feet tall, and his ass looks fantastic in his suit. at this point, you’re looking at him with heart eyes. but you can’t exactly tell him you want him to propose, so all you utter out is a “y-yeah. my dorm’s randall.”
he doesn't waste any time. with a quick nod, he hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he aims a webline up toward the buildings. “hold on tight, randall’s just a swing away,” he murmurs, his voice light but steady. his hand settles on your hip, and you can't stop the way your stomach flips at the contact.
before you can even process what’s happening, he launches the two of you into the air, the city blurring beneath your feet as you cling to him, fingers gripping the fabric of his suit for dear life. his arm stays solid around you, his grip somehow both gentle and strong. he lands lightly on the roof of your dorm, setting you down carefully like you’re something fragile. and he steps back, dusting his hands off in the most nonchalant way possible, like he didn’t just take you on the most exhilarating ride of your life.
“this is your stop,” he says, that signature, almost cocky smile playing in his voice.
“uh… yeah. thanks. for the rescue,” you manage, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. you don’t know if “thank you” is enough—it doesn’t even come close to covering what you feel.
but he just shrugs, taking a step back. “all in a day’s work,” he says. “or night’s work, i guess.” he pauses, giving you a quick once-over. “get some sleep, yeah?”
and just like that, he gives you a small, almost playful salute and vanishes, swinging off into the night as easily as he’d appeared, leaving you standing on the rooftop with your heart still racing.
back in your dorm room, you drop onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling as tonight’s events replay in your head: the alley, his voice cutting through the dark, that cocky smirk, the way he felt holding onto you as you soared over the city lights. a tiny part of you wonders if you imagined the whole thing—if maybe you’re just the victim of some wild, sleep-deprived hallucination.
but no, your arm still aches from where the creep grabbed you, and you can still feel the ghost of his hand on your waist, steady and reassuring. you bite your lip, a smile creeping onto your face despite yourself.
just before sleep finally claims you, you let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “the city’s vigilante, huh?” you murmur, as if he’s somehow still listening.
the thought is wild, a bit surreal—and strangely comforting.
“one caffe americano!” you call out, reading the label on the cup before handing it over with a small nod. the customer takes it with a quick thanks, and you return to the counter, barely holding back a yawn. the events of last night flicker through your mind—a web-slinging hero, an alley, the lingering ache in your arm—and you shake it off. there’s no room for distractions. life as a college student means the grind never stops, especially on a morning shift right before class.
when your coworker finally arrives, you let out a quiet sigh of relief, grab your bag, and step out into the brisk morning air. the chill helps wake you up as you make your way across campus, hoping to catch up with your friends before the lecture starts. just outside the building, you spot utahime, sitting on a bench, waiting with her usual tired smile.
“hey, finally off the clock?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“yeah, barely,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “i’m still running on fumes from last night. you guys save me a seat?”
“of course. nanami’s already inside,” she says, gesturing toward the building.
you sigh. “you won’t believe the things that happened last night.”
she gives you a look, in the traditional utahime protective-mother-hen type way. “what happened?”
you give her the rundown of what happened, the guy (who she bristles at, gives you a slap at your hand to tell you that you should’ve told her earlier, kento would’ve been able to beat his ass if she hadn’t gotten to it first) and how spiderman saved you. “i would give him what he’s missing,” you sigh, dreamily. 
utahime looks at you in a judgmental way. “and that’s all you got from this? for fucks sake, he’s a vigilante, you don’t know if he’s started to tail you or not. pooks, he could literally be dangerous. try to convince your boss to let someone else get your night shift.” as soon as you open your mouth to protest, she cuts you off immediately. “and no, i don’t give a fuck about your people pleaser tendenci—”
“we’ll revisit this conversation later.” you give her a sweet smile as you start to speed walk, door of the lecture hall of the 9am section of phys401: intro to quantum algorithms, falling in with the usual stream of students after you hear an irritated “yea, cause i’m gonna kill you otherwise.” the familiar chatter and echo of footsteps make the day feel almost normal, grounding you as you weave through the hall.
inside, you quickly spot kento’s shining, disney prince-like blonde hair, who has saved seats for the three of you near the middle of the hall, away from the ugly, smelly grad students who always crowd the front. he gives you a quick nod as you settle down beside him, flipping open your notebook. the reliable calm on his face helps ease the lingering jitters you hadn’t realized you were carrying.
“long night?” he asks, glancing at the dark circles under your eyes.
“you could say that,” you mumble, not quite ready to get into details. instead, you wave it off. “just work assignments, and getting jumped, the usual.”
nanami breaks into a series of shocked coughs, and you hurry to pat his back as he undeniably burns his tongue on the coffee he was taking a sip of. “what?”
his rather loud exclamation sets off stares from people sitting closer to you both, so you give utahime, who lets out a quiet groan as she’s settling into her seat beside you, a knowing look. “it’s a long story, i’ll tell it to you later.”
he reluctantly settles in after that, not because he has a choice but because yaga is starting to address the class by asking about the weekend and getting his usual blank stares in return until a voice you recognize as suguru geto’s is saying something to undeniably piss him off, but you don’t register quite what it is exactly because the door opens and any attention on geto is directed to the boy with white hair and blue eyes tiredly walking into class. 
he’s about ten minutes late to the lecture, which is already weird because he’s usually about 27 seconds late, not that you keep count. but also, normally gojo is the picture of confidence and cockyness, making some of the female grad students whisper things about him that you don’t think they should be for the five year gap between them and gojo. 
but today, he looks different—messy, unkempt, with shadows under his eyes and a weird angle to his torso, the way he walks, and the way his opposite hand is subconsciously hovering around his side.
your brows knit together as he heads to an empty seat rows behind you next to geto, ignoring the stares of half the room. it’s so out of character for him that you can’t help but wonder what’s going on. you shoot utahime a knowing look, and she stifles a laugh, barely managing to keep a straight face as she watches gojo slink to his seat. nanami’s usually impassive face exchanges a look with you as well before he turns his attention back to professor yaga’s opening remarks. gojo slides into the row behind you without a word, avoiding everyone’s gaze—or so you think, until you feel it.
as you attempt to listen to professor yaga, you can’t shake the sensation of eyes boring into the back of your head. you resist the urge to turn, telling yourself it’s probably nothing… except the feeling lingers, so strong that your pulse ticks up a notch.
“okay, now that we’re all here,” yaga says in a dry tone, barely able to hide his irritation as he glances pointedly in gojo’s direction, “let’s begin with today’s lecture on grover’s.”
professor yaga taps the board, and the projector switches to a set of slides titled quantum speed-up and the grover search algorithm. he launches into his explanation, voice clipped. “grover’s algorithm provides a quadratic speed-up for unstructured search problems, a notable advantage in quantum computing. but can anyone tell me why this isn’t considered an exponential improvement?”
you raise your hand, as does nanami. a subtle shift of movement in your peripheral vision draws your eye to gojo, who’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. yaga’s attention lands on nanami first, and he gives a succinct answer about how grover’s algorithm yields only a quadratic speed-up in terms of computational complexity. as he answers, you swear you catch gojo watching you, again, through the corner of your eye.
determined not to let him get under your skin, you lean over to whisper to nanami. “what’s with him today?”
nanami, still watching yaga, raises a brow. “maybe he finally realized that he can’t get by without skipping class today.”
utahime snickers quietly. “doubtful. more like he thinks it’s funny to waltz in whenever he likes and still ace every test.”
“exactly.” you sigh, drumming your pen against your notebook. gojo’s rare absences don’t even seem to faze most professors. and despite his unpredictable attendance, he’s always managed to stay miles ahead. today, though, something’s… different about him. like he’s made a life changing decision in the past 48 hours.
“moving on,” yaga says, pointing to the board where the next slide materializes. “the heart of grover’s algorithm lies in its use of an amplitude amplification technique, where we iterate a search oracle along with an inversion process. pay attention—this concept of iterative improvement will become key when we start covering variational quantum algorithms.”
as yaga delves deeper into amplitude amplification, you manage to focus, jotting down notes on the necessary steps in grover’s search. yet each time you settle into the lecture, you feel gojo’s gaze pricking at you. the first time you turn around, there’s nothing there—just him slouched, seemingly absorbed in whatever he’s staring at on the ceiling. but then, you sense it again and, on your second glance, you catch his blue eyes meeting yours, and he quickly looks away.
what’s his problem? you give him a questioning look, but he’s adamantly not looking at you, trying to look nonchalant as he’s pulling out his laptop. he might look like a student taking latexing notes of what yaga’s yapping about, but the way he’s using his mouse more than he is his keyboard tells you that he’s probably on papa’s freezeria instead.
you decide that you’re going to waste your time wondering how gojo’s brain functioned, so you instead focus back on the lecture. after all, you didn’t understand any of the lecture notes you took notes on before and what it said about the diffuser in the circuit. 
“now,” yaga’s voice sharpens, pulling you back into the room, “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of being late.” his eyes slide back to gojo, who remains oblivious, leaning back with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as the sound of his name brings him back to the lecture.
gojo doesn’t even look phased. instead, he raises a hand casually, like he’s about to ask a simple question. you can feel the anticipation ripple through the room—half the students are waiting to see if he’ll fumble, and the other half already know better.
“professor yaga,” he drawls, “don’t you think amplitude amplification is a bit of an oversimplification? the way it’s typically presented, you’d think grover’s algorithm was just… guessing with style.” he flashes an infuriatingly smug smile, drawing out the pause before continuing. “but we both know it’s more about quantum phase inversion, right? the oracle reflects about the mean state, iterating with a precision that isn’t just luck. or maybe that’s all too technical?” he leans back, feigning innocence.
the smugness in his tone makes something flare up in you, and before you can stop yourself, your hand shoots up.
“actually, gojo,” you interject, your voice louder than you intended, “calling it “guessing with style” is a very gross oversimplification. grover’s algorithm isn’t about intuition or luck. it’s about optimization. it’s not just about spotlighting a target like a rando guess, it’s more like rotating the probability in a controlled manner—with iterations—to amplify the correct solution. not just some quantum trick or guess.” you cross your arms, leaning back in your chair as you stare him down. “it’s not even that bad, compared to what we have classically.”
as soon as you spoke, it seems that the fight and mischievous look in gojo’s eyes fades, replacing it with something that shockingly looks like him being flustered as he averts your gaze, looks to the ceiling, and murmurs something like “yea, that’s basically most of quantum computing, desperately trying to prove we’re not just wasting our time” but yaga interrupts him, clearly a bit annoyed at the two know-it-alls that you and gojo were acting like. 
“now,” yaga says, shifting back to the lecture as if nothing happened (probably because he wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit), “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of missing lectures.”
you’re just left confused as to why the conversation didn’t escalate like the typical academic rivals in movies, because you’ve definitely seen gojo bully some people who didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about instead of just blushing like some schoolgirl. regardless, you can’t help but notice the thrill that you felt, having finally argued with him, having been seen as someone worth arguing. you try to temper it as yaga continues onto the rest of the lecture.
“i can’t believe you’re making me go.” you tug at the hem of your white corset, paired with a matching skirt, still incredulous at how utahime managed to talk you into attending one of the infamous halloween frat parties. the night air is crisp against your exposed shoulders, and despite your complaints, you shiver more at the thought of wasting the next few hours among sweaty strangers than the actual cold.
utahime, walking beside you in a devil-red version of your outfit—complete with horns perched precariously on her head—looks far too satisfied with herself. she adjusts the horns with one hand, giving you a sidelong glance that practically drips with smugness.
“stop pouting,” she chides. “i’m not going to let you waste another night holed up in your room, buried in manhwa or quantum physics. i’m pretty sure there are cobwebs growing in your—”
“utahime,” you hiss, cutting her off with a mortified glance around.
“pussy,” she finishes, completely unbothered. “i’m going to find you a guy to hook up with. i’m not saying you have to go all the way, but flirting? kissing? maybe something more? very healthy. highly encouraged.”
your mouth falls open in protest, but before you can get a word in, she fixes you with a sharp glare, her dark eyes flashing with all the authority of a disappointed parent. “don’t even think about arguing with me. i swear, if you don’t at least try to enjoy this, i’ll make it my personal mission to find someone for you.”
“i can’t believe this,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “you’re supposed to be my friend, not my pimp.”
“oh, i’m your friend. that’s why i’m doing this. you’ll thank me when you’re sixty and not crying about how boring your college life was.”
“i’m not boring,” you counter. “i’m selective.”
“sure,” utahime drawls, clearly unconvinced. “and whatever weird sexual tension you’ve got going on with gojo doesn’t count.”
you scoff, stopping in your tracks to stare at her. “what tension? we’ve literally talked once this week. and that was the first time we had a conversation.”
she doesn’t respond, already scanning the scene ahead. the street of frat houses looms just ahead, glowing with gaudy orange lights strung up across balconies. the bass from the nearest party reverberates through the pavement underfoot. it’s already crowded, hordes of people shuffling in and out, laughing, shouting, and showcasing their half-baked halloween costumes.
you follow utahime’s gaze to the nearest house, packed with enough people to make the windows fog up. just the thought of squeezing into that humidity makes your stomach churn.
“looks crowded,” you mumble. “maybe we should—”
before you can suggest retreating, utahime grabs your wrist and practically drags you toward the house. “nope. you’re coming in. no backing out now.”
the moment you step inside, the smell hits you. sweat, stale beer, and an undercurrent of what you can only describe as frat-house musk. your nose wrinkles, and you instinctively recoil, pulling your arm free from utahime’s grasp.
“god, it smells like a gym locker in here,” you say, covering your nose.
utahime doesn’t seem fazed. she’s already scanning the room, her eyes landing on a beer pong table set up in the corner, surrounded by cheering students. “this is perfect!” she says, beaming.
“for what? contracting a fungal infection?” you mutter.
but she’s no longer listening, her focus shifting as a tall, broad-shouldered guy in a makeshift cowboy hat approaches her and then stops in front of both of you, his stare fully enthralled by utahime. “hey,” he says, a bit suavely, in the way that makes you inwardly roll your eyes because you know she’s going to eat it up. she likes it when they’re a little ugly, and this guy fits the bill. 
“hey,” and she giggles, making you have to physically fight the urge to puke, “what’s up?”
 they exchange a few words, and before you know it, she’s smiling in that way that tells you she’s found her entertainment for the night.
“go ahead,” you say dryly, waving her off. “i’ll just fend for myself.”
utahime starts to protest, but you’re already beelining for the kitchen, trying to get a drink that’s not too crazy to survive the night. it’s surprisingly less chaotic in the kitchen, though the counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and some questionable punch that looks radioactive. you scan the room, your eyes landing on a cupboard that might hold something simple—like water. a series of ding! ding! ding!’s go off in your mind as you find the pack of plastic water bottles. 
standing on your toes, you reach for the handle, but it’s just out of your grasp. you huff in frustration, shifting to get better leverage when a hand way bigger than yours suddenly appears above yours, effortlessly grabbing the item you were reaching for.
“let me get that for you.”
you turn to thank the person, the words dying on your lips when you see who it is.
gojo.
he’s standing impossibly close, his signature smirk firmly in place, but there’s something almost casual in the way he looks at you, as if this is the most normal interaction in the world. you swear you’re so close that you can see like the two open pores on his otherwise flawless skin, as his eyes inevitably drag themselves downwards to scan your outfit for the night—a shitty angel without wings and halo (you couldn’t be paid two shits to put in the effort; both of the top and skirt were utahime’s, anyways.) then, his eyes meet yours again, a bit of playfulness in them. 
“well, well,” he drawls, handing you the water bottle. “never thought i’d see you here.”
you take the bottle, trying to ignore the brush of his fingers against yours. “didn’t have much of a choice. utahime dragged me.”
his grin widens. “classic. let me guess—she’s off trying to find her soulmate at the beer pong table?”
“something like that,” you mumble, not wanting to give him the entire story. twisting the cap off the bottle,  you take a sip, hoping he’ll just leave you alone, but instead, he leans against the counter, looking entirely too comfortable.
“so,” he says, tilting his head, “i heard through the grapevine that you had a run-in with that spider-man guy this week.”
that makes you pause mid-gulp of water, instead coughing a bit as you try to swallow it down without basically drowning in kirkland signature natural spring water. you’ve only told like, three people outside of kento and iori, so you’re confused why he knows this information, but you continue on regardless. the memory of spider-man swinging in to save you flashes through your mind, and you can’t help but smile softly to yourself. “it was amazing. he’s—he’s incredible, honestly. the way he just swooped in and handled everything? so fast, so precise. he’s like a real-life superhero.”
you’re basically gushing to him, and you realize that a bit too late as you look at his face to gauge his reaction. he’s looking at you with a newfound interest, albeit a bit too conflicted to fully tease you about it when he says, “sounds like you’re smitten.”
“maybe i am,” you admit, laughing. “i mean, who wouldn’t be? he’s brave, he’s kind, and he doesn’t even stick around for the credit. it’s like he’s this selfless, untouchable figure.” you also kind of want to give him a sloppy toppy for saving you like that, but you spare gojo the details. 
“untouchable, huh?” gojo echoes, his tone turning a bit wry and…jealous? “sounds like someone’s got a crush.”
you roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and you think gojo can tell with the way you’re heating up and bashfully looking at the ground. “don’t be ridiculous.”
“i’m just saying,” he continues, leaning closer, “if that’s your type, you might want to raise your standards. superheroes are overrated.”
you raise an eyebrow. “and what, you’re not?”
he grins, that infuriatingly charming grin that makes you want to simultaneously punch him and laugh. “i’m better. i’m real.” he then puts his hands on the counter behind you, caging you between them until your knees are lightly brushing, and suddenly his face is so close that small little breaths from his nose are fanning across your face. “i can prove that to you.”
and you hate your body for being so…reactive and enthusiastic to his smooth-talking, face flushing. despite that, you try to put on an air of nonchalance. “god, you’re insufferable.”
“really?” he teases. his hand leaves the marble counter to hover at your hip, his hand subconsciously tracing your curves an inch above your skin. the motion, firm but tentative as if he’s waiting for you to give him the green light, makes you shiver as you subconsciously move your hips to finally have the skin-to-skin contact. and your skin sings in happiness as he draws circles into the area right below your skirt, even momentarily dipping just below, to which you realize that he’s treading very close to your panties, since your skirt’s really short.
"yea," you basically sigh, hating yourself for how breathy your voice sounds. 
it seems to have an effect on gojo because his eyes darken as he murmurs, "wastin' your time on that spiderman guy."
maybe it's the fact that it's late (you've been getting sub four hours of sleep this past week) or the lights in this humid frat bring a heady air, but all academic-rivalry-overshadowed-woman-in-stem history between you and gojo disappears in your brain as you rake your eyes up and down his torso and then look at him through your lashes. "who should i spend my time on instead?"
he gives you a little smile as he stares down at you, eyes raking over your face, catching at your lips and then going back up again to meet yours. “i don’t know, someone who’s as smart as you,” he murmurs.
“yea?” you laugh out breathlessly. your faces are so close that in normal circumstances, you would worry about how you both looked so close together, one hand on your thigh and the other splayed on your waist. “and how would you know how smart i am?”
satoru starts, lips coming closer and closer. “because i—”
but he’s interrupted, because you both hear a “satoru” and pull apart, breathing heavily as you both turn to look at the offender standing in the entrance of the kitchen: suguru geto, gojo’s best friend, looking more tired than anything as his eyes catch on you, then going to gojo with a pointed look. it’s not hard to figure out what was going on based on how disheveled you both look, your skirt crooked and his shirt crumbled, and your cheeks heat. before you can say anything, however, suguru sighs and says to gojo, “there’s a burglary happening nearby.” then, he turns but not before giving you a nod. “make sure to stay safe.”
he promptly leaves, leaving you confused standing there. was this such an emergency worth noting that he interrupted his best friend?
you try to seek the answer in gojo’s face, but he has this conflicted, annoyed countenance and you suddenly feel kinda of insecure because he’s raking his hand through his hair, staring painfully at the ceiling then at you. at the same time you utter out a “uh–” he says “i have to go.”
“oh.” you blink. a why brews on top of your tongue, but you temper it, reminding yourself that you’re not close to gojo like that. needless to say, you feel a little embarrassed as you watch him jog out of the kitchen with a little wave to you. you want to overanalyze gojo’s last look to you, the one that looked a bit like disappointment and yearning, but you shake it off, staring at the 16.9 oz plastic water bottle in your hand that you forgot about.
taking a sip, you cringe as you become more aware of your surroundings and the state you’re left in because of gojo. that your panties are a bit more sticky—you reach under your skirt to adjust them so they don’t stick to your crotch so much—and you’re hot all over. 
then reality comes crashing back. what the hell did you and gojo just do right now?
you groan out loud, banging your head against the fridge, but as you reel back, in your peripheral you see  someone there. your head shoots to see the guy who’s now looking at you with a weird expression as he undeniably waits for whatever freaking out you were doing to gain access to the fridge. 
“sorry,” you blurt out, and gather yourself to beeline for the exit. god, you needed to find utahime.
the soft hum of a tv in the corner of satoru’s apartment provided the only sound, save for the faint rustle of suguru flipping through a textbook. the remnants of takeout—boxes of half-eaten pad thai and a pile of discarded chopsticks—littered the coffee table between them. satoru leaned back on the couch, legs stretched out, staring at the ceiling like it held answers he hadn’t thought to ask yet. he held a small foam ball, tossing it up and catching it over and over. his mind, however, wasn’t focused on the ball but on you.
it was starting to feel like an obsession. he’d always been able to compartmentalize things—his studies, his friends, his other responsibilities. but you? you’d broken through the usual barriers in his head, wedging yourself firmly into every free thought he had.
“do you think she likes me?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.
suguru glanced up from his book, his expression unreadable. “who, starbucks girl?”
satoru scoffed. “she’s not starbucks girl. she’s…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers against his knee. your name lingered on his tongue, oddly weighty in a way that felt almost unfamiliar.
suguru smirked. “oh, she’s got a name now? progress.”
“shut up.”
but he couldn’t shut his mind off, not when you kept taking up space in it. it wasn’t just that he’d noticed you now—really noticed you, for the first time. it was more than that.
satoru had always known who you were. you weren’t exactly easy to miss. in a program full of ugly guys who didn’t shower and loud personalities, you had carved out your niche by being the cold, unreachable one. the one who didn’t bother with group projects unless she had to, who barely engaged in conversations beyond what was strictly necessary. other guys in the program talked about you, of course. they always did.
“frigid,” they called you. “too serious. probably thinks she’s better than us.”
they weren’t entirely wrong. you were better than most of them, but not for the reasons they assumed. satoru had read your work—papers that brimmed with insights that most of their half-baked theories could only dream of. he could tell you put in the effort in your classes and research, while all the guys left shit-talking had to rely on their grad student mentors to be able to write a legible paper. for fucks sake, he doesn’t even thing anyone could code in qiskit or cirq like you could; he had skimmed your notes once, left them behind after a lecture, and found them meticulous and sharp before he turned them into the professor to return to you.
and yet, despite the brilliance you carried with you, you had never given him a second glance.
that day at starbucks, though.
satoru rolled his head to the side, gaze drifting toward the window. he hadn’t expected to see anyone at five in the morning, let alone you. he’d been desperate for answers then—he had spent his night staring at his hands, which had seemed to keep ejecting spider-like webs after he’d been horribly sick. he knew he shouldn’t have gone fooling around in new york’s subway tunnels at 3am with suguru and shoko, but after a seemingly-harmless spider had bit him, he had been reeling from the discovery of his newfound powers and grappling with the weight of what they meant ever since. 
and there you were, unlocking the starbucks, bleary-eyed but no less composed.
you’d handed him his coffee, not interested in him the entire time, and he remembered blurting something out—something ridiculous about fate or responsibility, his usual bravado faltering in the quiet of the moment. he had been spiraling, unsure of who he was anymore, and you’d said something.
what was it again?
“it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”
the words had stayed with him, carved deep into the corners of his mind. you didn’t know it, but they had pulled him back from the edge that day. since then, he’d started noticing you in ways he hadn’t before.
the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. the furrow of your brow when you argued as respectfully as you could with a professor (gojo knew you were holding back, though, and the thought always made him smile to himself because if he wasn’t an idgafer he would be incensed like you at the idiotic teacher). the smile—rare, fleeting, but utterly disarming—that occasionally lit up your face when you talked to utahime or that guy you were too friendly around, nanami.
“you’re doing that thing again,” suguru said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“what thing?” satoru asked, sitting up straighter.
“brooding. you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”
“no.”
suguru arched an eyebrow. “you’re a terrible liar.”
satoru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine. maybe i am. but it’s complicated.”
“how is it complicated?”
“she doesn’t like me,” satoru said, shrugging. “at least, not as me. she likes spider-man.”
suguru blinked, clearly unimpressed. “you’re being stupid bro.”
“i’m not being stupid,” satoru argued. “she thinks spider-man’s this amazing, selfless hero. she doesn’t know i’m just some guy who can’t even figure out how to flirt with her without making an ass of himself.”
suguru leaned back in his chair, regarding satoru with an almost pitying look. “so let me get this straight. you’re worried that she only likes spider-man, even though spider-man is you. like it’s some kind of split personality thing?”
“well, when you put it like that—”
“it sounds dumb,” suguru finished. “because it is dumb.”
satoru glared at him, but suguru only shrugged.  but how could he not think about you? even now, the memory of your voice—calm, steady, and unexpectedly warm—echoed in his head. you had this way of looking at him, like you were peeling back layers he didn’t even know he had. and that smile... he groaned inwardly. he wasn’t supposed to be so drawn to you, wasn’t supposed to imagine what it’d feel like to have you smile at him like that all the time.
“look,” suguru continued, “if you like her, shoot your shot. you’re already overthinking this, and you haven’t even done anything yet. what’s the worst that could happen? she says no?”
“or she laughs in my face,” satoru muttered.
“which would be deserved, honestly,” suguru said, smirking. “but seriously, you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.”
satoru didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the takeout boxes on the table. he wanted to believe suguru was right, but there was a small, stubborn part of him that wasn’t so sure.
because it wasn’t just about rejection, or even whether you liked him as satoru or spider-man. it was about what came after. if he let you in and something happened to you—if his double life brought danger to your doorstep—he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself.
but then there was suguru’s voice in his head, steady and persistent: you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.
amidst a week of endless projects upon projects and other miscellaneous assignments from your research group partners (since the grad students loved to pile their work on top of you, the helpless undergrad), you find yourself nursing a hot chocolate while on top of your dormitory building’s roof. 
you find sanctuary, coming on here for time to yourself whenever you find yourself stuck in a busy week. quiet, solitary, with a view of the city lights flickering like scattered fireflies. you hugged your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as you stepped onto the roof, your laptop tucked under one arm, a mug of tea precariously balanced in the other hand. the air was crisp, biting just enough to sting your cheeks.
setting your mug down on the ledge, you perched beside it, pulling up your knees and balancing the laptop precariously as you typed. the words on the screen blurred after a while, blending into the chaos in your mind. frustrated, you closed it with a snap and leaned your head back to gaze at the stars.
“rough night?”
you startled, spinning your head around so fast your tea nearly toppled. but you can’t find anyone, just the sound of soft footsteps landing somewhere not visible to you. 
“you scared the hell out of me,” you sighed, clutching your chest.
“sorry,” he said, though his tone didn’t sound all that apologetic. “didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“then maybe don’t sneak up on people like that,” you muttered, still trying to calm your racing heart.
he chuckled, and the sound was warmer than you’d expected. “noted. so, what’s got you out here at three in the morning? don’t tell me you’re pulling an all-nighter.”
you sighed, the initial shock fading into a dull thrum of shyness. “it’s not an all-nighter if the night isn’t over yet.” then, you squint at a random spot, pretending it’s him. “besides, why are you here? shouldn’t you be out stopping robberies or saving cats from trees?”
“done and done,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the ledge. “now i’m just enjoying the view.”
you turned your gaze back to the skyline, hoping the darkness hid the faint heat creeping up your neck. “so, what’s a guy like you doing on a random rooftop at three in the morning?”
“could ask you the same thing,” he countered.
you hesitated. for some reason, admitting the truth to him felt easier than admitting it to anyone else. “just…needed a break.”
“from?”
“everything,” you said, exhaling slowly. “classes. expectations. people.” you paused, then added with a faint smile, “not you, though. you’re an exception.”
“oh?” his voice lightened, carrying a hint of playful intrigue. “should i feel honored?”
“maybe,” you said. “it’s not every day you get to meet a real hero.” then, “okay, but why do you always hide in the dark?”
his voice is smug, meant to be playful. “it adds to the mystique?”
you pout. “what if i call the police?”
“it’s not like the cops can catch me anyways, baby. their shitty coffee and donut filled asses aren’t enough to keep up with me.”
you really try not to flush when he calls you that pet name. “is success getting to you?”
“what success? most i hear is everyone debating whether or not i should be experimented on.”
“really?” you teased. “that’s not what i saw on my for you page last time. there are girls out there who want you to sign their tits after you rescued that baby.”
then, you hear the soft thud of nimble feet dropping onto the ceiling and turn your head to see him in all his glory. he has a muscular figure highlighted in his white suit, blue and black lines traveling their way across his body. casually, he stretches and then drops down to the floor, sitting cross legged from across from you as if joining you in a regular gossip sesh. he puts his elbow on his knee and rests his head on his hand. “are you one of those girls?”
you laugh sheepishly, turning away as heat creeps up your face again and your heart hammers, because you can’t exactly tell him that, yes you’re absolutely enamored with him after he saved you that day and yes, you do indeed want him to sign your tits.
“you should do that more,” he said.
“what?” you look back at him, wide eyed in confusion. 
“laugh.”
the way he said it, low and almost reverent, made your cheeks heat. you busy yourself with toying with your cardigan, scooting yourself away from the edge and closer to him. “and you should stop being such a flirt,” you said, though there was no bite in your voice.
“can’t help it,” he said, leaning closer. “it’s kind of my thing.”
“is that right?”
“mm-hmm.” he paused, then added, “you know, there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“what?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.
“take my mask off.”
the words hit you like a gut punch, dissolving the playfulness that had filled the air seconds ago. you blinked up at him, searching his face—or at least what you could see of it—for any sign that this was some elaborate joke. but there was no hint of humor, no smirk tugging at his lips. he meant it.
your fingers hovered at your sides, hesitant. “are you sure?” the question came out soft, barely audible, but it felt like it echoed in the quiet night.
“never been more sure of anything,” he murmured, voice low and steady.
you swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. slowly, almost against your better judgment, you reached up, fingertips brushing the edge of his mask. the fabric felt smooth, warm under your touch, but your nerves were anything but.
with a deep breath, you peeled it back. bit by bit, his face came into view—a shock of white hair, impossibly sharp features, and finally, those eyes. those unmistakable, infuriatingly familiar blue eyes. your breath caught, and for a moment, the world tilted sideways.
“gojo?”
the name fell from your lips before you could stop it, unsteady and disbelieving. your mind raced, trying to piece together the impossible puzzle that had just landed in front of you.
he grinned—that grin, the one that always made you want to slap it off his face and yet somehow managed to disarm you every single time. “hey.”
“hey?” your voice cracked as you took a step back. “that’s all you have to say? hey?”
“would you prefer, ‘surprise’?” he quipped, his grin widening as though this was the most normal thing in the world.
you laughed, the sound a little hysterical but real, like you couldn’t contain the storm of emotions rushing through you. “surprised? you’ve been… you’ve been spider-man this whole time?” the words felt foreign on your tongue, like they didn’t belong in the same sentence as gojo satoru—the one you’d argued with in class, the one who had no problem making you want to tear your hair out. and yet here he was, standing in front of you, the last person you ever would have suspected to be the city’s most infamous masked hero.
gojo gave you that crooked grin, the same one he wore when he thought he had won—when he thought he had it all figured out. “i know. it’s a lot to take in.”
you stared at him, trying to make sense of it, but no amount of logic could bridge the gap between the gojo you knew—the guy who drove you up the wall in class and always had a cocky comeback—and the masked hero who had saved you and the one you had a crush on.
you didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or cry. 
you take a shaky breath in, still trying to process everything. “you... you saved me, gojo. you’ve been right there, all these times, and i had no idea it was you.”
“guess i’m just that good at keeping secrets,” he said, his tone playful, but there was something more there, something softer, that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. his eyes held a flicker of something—maybe vulnerability, maybe uncertainty.
the weight of the moment hung thick in the air between you, and for a long second, you didn’t know what to say. this revelation was like the ground beneath you had cracked wide open, and you were left staring into an abyss that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
finally, you shook your head, letting out a short breath. “this is insane.”
he didn’t seem bothered by your reaction, though his eyes darkened just slightly, the smirk still there, but with something a little more honest creeping into his expression. “yeah. but you’re handling it better than i thought. kinda thought you would faint, or something.”
the world had shifted, but somehow, with gojo now sitting in front of you like this, with the mask off and the man behind the myth revealed, it felt like the pieces were finally starting to fall into place. even if they didn’t make perfect sense yet.
and yet, something about his presence—his undeniable realness—felt oddly grounding. he wasn’t the invincible spider-man anymore. he was just gojo. the gojo who had somehow become more than just your academic rival, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit more than that.
something in gojo’s facial expression shifted to something a bit more hesitant, a little nervous as he stands and extend his arm out to you. softly, he asks, “do you trust me?”
“yes.” you took his hand, standing up as he flashes you a charming, yet mischievous grin, one so shit eating that you regret saying that. “why?”
“i’m taking you for a ride. consider it an apology for freaking you out earlier.”
you hesitated, looking between his outstretched hand and the city skyline just beyond your college campus. “i don’t think this is a good idea—”
“you trust me, don’t you?”
and somehow, against all logic, you realized that you did.
“fine,” you said, stepping closer to him to cling onto him. 
he pulls you closer, and as he does so, he cranes his neck down to meet your eyes, smiling giddy. “anywhere you wanna go?”
you think for a moment, but know immediately the place where you’d like to visit that’s open at this ungodly hour. “do you know that one shawarma joint—-”
before you can even finish, the wind whips around you as gojo slips his mask back on, pulls you closer to him, and uses his free hand—that is, the one that’s not clinging onto your firmly—to shoot a glistening web, one that you saw when he used it on the man who harassed you in the ally. it clings onto a nearby building, and then you’re off the ground, soaring through the air.
you let out a scream of terror against gojo’s chest, tightening your arms around him. you can feel a laugh rumble in his chest, a boyish chuckle as he peers down at you and shouts, “are you having fun?” 
“gojo,” you whine, burying your head into his chest further. despite your initial fear, exhilaration creeps its way into you as you the city blur, skyline jumping and dipping as gojo effortlessly swung you both around. 
when he finally stopped, landing gracefully on a secluded rooftop, you were breathless—not just from the ride but from the way he was looking at you.
“you good?” he laughed, panting from the exertion and tenderly using his hand to rake his hand through your  hair, which, you note out of embarrassment, must’ve been messed up from the wind passing through it.
“i hate that you made me dizzy, but yea, i’m good,” you mumble, pulling out your phone to open your camera, fixing your hair.
when you’re done, gojo looks at you with the manic buzz you can only have at 3am. “ready to get some shawarma?”
the streets were eerily quiet, the kind of silence only a city at 3am could have. just the two of you, your footsteps echoing against the pavement, the occasional glow of a streetlamp painting your path.
“okay, that shawarma was like, mid at best,” gojo walks alongside you. he’s thrown on a sweatshirt and gray sweatpants over his suit, walking alongside you on the street. your stomachs are full, and you suggested a walk to be able to digest the bigass bowl you both ate.
“nothing tastes better than something you’re eating when you’re supposed to be studying, instead,” you shot back, hiding your little smile as you cross your arms while strolling. the shift between you and gojo was so jarring that you’re still reeling at it, but what is 3am if not for big life changes?
“yea, that’s fair,” he sighs, crossing his hands behind his head as he continues strolling beside you.  “so,” he continues, “now that i’ve officially blown your mind with my secret identity and fed you some incredibly mid shawarma, what’s next? should i fly you to paris, or is that too cliché?”
you roll your eyes, but deep inside, you’re really biting back a grin. “relax, bugboy. maybe first let me recover from being swung like a human pendulum.”
gojo stopped walking, turning to face you with a playful glint in his eye. “you’re still thinking about that, huh? admit it—you loved it.”
you raised an eyebrow. “i screamed into your chest for a solid ten seconds. does that sound like love to you?”
he tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “i dunno. there’s a fine line between terror and thrill. and judging by how tightly you were holding onto me…”
“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, but your voice lacked bite.
“and yet, you’re still here.”
his words hung in the air, the playful edge softening into something quieter, more sincere. your steps faltered, and you looked up at him, the absurdity of the night fading into the background as your gaze held his.
“guess i’m curious,” you admitted.
“curious, huh?” he said, taking a step closer. “careful. curiosity killed the cat.”
without thinking, you blurted, “at least i’ve got a fifty-fifty shot, right?” the words barely left your mouth before the regret hit, your inner voice screaming at you for making a lame quantum mechanics joke at a time like this. schrödinger would be proud, you thought bitterly.
but then gojo laughed—not the teasing, obnoxious kind of laugh or the weird look you’d expect, but a genuine, boyish chuckle that reached his eyes. he smiled at you, soft and unguarded, and suddenly, the space between you seemed to shrink.
the flickering streetlamp cast a warm, uneven glow over the two of you. in that moment, the sprawling city felt impossibly small, narrowed down to just him and the pounding of your heart in your ears.
gojo reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “you know,” he murmured, his voice low, “i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.”
your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest. “do what?”
“this.”
before you could respond, he closed the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was somehow both soft, yet electrifying. for a moment, time seemed to stop, the city around you fading into nothing as the warmth of his touch anchored you in the moment.
when he finally pulled back, his grin was back in full force. “so, was that better or worse than shawarma?”
you blinked at him, still trying to find your footing in the aftermath of what just happened. an immediate feeling of bashfulness crept over you because not only did you just kiss spiderman, you just kissed gojo. there are girls who would kill to be in your position, and that makes you flustered as you turn your head away from him so you don’t have to make eye contact. “i hate you,” you mumble half heartedly, cheeks burning.
gojo doesn’t let you off so easily. his thumb brushes gently along your chin, coaxing your face back toward his. his touch is warm, deliberate, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
“oh my god,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “are you embarrassed? you’re so cute.”
when the warmth of his hand leaves your chin, you open your eyes, shocked as you find out that he’s nowhere to be seen. you call out a tentative, “gojo?” 
somewhere behind you, to the left, comes out a muffled shout. “i’m here!” you whip around, your brows furrowing as you follow the direction of his voice. it’s coming from an alley just off the street, dark and bathed in shadows.
“seriously?” you mutter under your breath, your annoyance half-hearted, making your way toward the sound. you find yourself at the mouth of the alley, the dim glow of a distant lamp barely illuminating his silhouette.
gojo’s perched on the side of the wall like it’s the most natural thing in the world, one leg propped up, his mask pulled halfway up to reveal that damn smirk. “you’re slow,” he teases, his tone light and infuriatingly smug.
“what are you doing?” you ask, crossing your arms.
he gestures toward himself. “you came looking for me, didn’t you?”
you roll your eyes, stepping closer despite yourself. “what, did you think i’d just leave you lurking in some alley like a creepy insect?”
“well,” he says, shooting a web to stick on the bottom of some stairs of one of the buildings to hang upside down, “you could’ve left, but i had a feeling you wouldn’t.”
before you could retort, he shoots his web closer to something on top of you, now dangling upside down yet again but his proximity even closer, stealing the air from your lungs. his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face, lingering just long enough to make your knees feel unsteady.
“so,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “are we doing this again, or are you gonna keep pretending you hate me?”
your heart stutters, but before you can overthink it, you pull his mask down even further to uncover more of his lips, and you join them together—this time, softer, slower, as if savoring the moment. you grab at his chin to pull him closer to you, you both sighing into the kiss, and then smiling giddily each time you pull back, only to come back in.
and just like that, you start to fall into…something with not only the vigilante that’s swinging around new york, but also gojo satoru, your long-time rival.
when satoru swings by your dorm next, he doesn’t expect his heart to lurch so much at the view of you so cozy.
it’s undeniable; you and satoru have been dancing around each other. you’re not exactly a hook-up to each other—you two haven’t had sex—but you’re not exactly girlfriend and boyfriend. and it’s not something casual, either. he doesn’t reveal that he’s spiderman just to get into girls’ pants. 
you’ve both developed a sort of rapport, he supposes. it’s been stolen glances during phys401 and late nights spent talking or, occasionally, making out. you’ve even started to nurse his wounds, if he ever shows up with bruises and blood matting his suit. one of the perks of you having a single. 
he’s even fallen asleep overnight, especially on friday nights when he doesn’t have lecture in the morning. some of his things, like some spare equipment and suits, have even found their way into your closet. 
you’re both on a dangerous roller coaster, and satoru is closing his eyes on the fall down. 
but right now, he’s perched outside your window like a creep. you’re sitting on your bed, cross-legged and squinting at something on your laptop, and satoru smiles to himself as he sees your tank top and shorts and just how homey you look. you probably know satoru is coming, but you’re so comfortable around him that it makes his heart ache. he shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop.
satoru lightly taps on your window, his knuckle brushing against the glass softly, not wanting to startle you. you glance up, catching sight of him, and there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips.
you get up, and satoru follows the movement of your bare legs with his eyes as you slide the window open. “you know, most people knock on doors like normal humans,” you say.
“i like to keep things interesting,” he shoots back, climbing in effortlessly. the faint chill from the night clings to him, and his hair is slightly disheveled from the wind.
he glances around your room, catching sight of your scattered notes and the distinct look of frustration etched across your face. “what’s got you looking so miserable?”
“phys401,” you reply with a resigned sigh, flopping back onto your bed. “this problem set is impossible.”
satoru smirks, peeling off his gloves and mask and plopping down beside you. “let me see.”
acquiescing, you hand over your notebook, watching as he scans your work with intent, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to understand the statement to prove. he makes a few thoughtful noises, before grabbing a pen and scribbling something down. “here,” he says after a moment, “you’re overcomplicating this step. instead of doing the tensor product you did, you could just make this zero by taking an inner product, since they’re orthogonal states. the rest will fall into place.”
you squint at his messy, rushed handwriting, and sure enough, the proof seems to come together. “how are you so good at this?” 
“physics prodigy, remember?” he teases, leaning back on his hands as he lays down on your bed.
“thanks for the help,” you say softly, your eyes lingering on him a beat too long. he’s kind of dreamy, you think. the moonlight filters across your window, giving his platinum hair a sheen as his cerulean eyes look into yours with kindness. 
his smirk fades, replaced by something softer, something unspoken. “anytime.” he then makes a show of stretching out his limbs, purposely bumping into you with one eye open smugly to observe your reaction, to which you glare at him. he spots your notebook, picks it up, and flips through it. “you know, for someone who complains so much about phys401, you’re not half bad at it,” he teases, scribbling something in the margin of your notes by grabbing a stray pen next to him.  
you roll your eyes, shifting so you’re cross-legged on the bed, facing him. “not all of us are physics prodigies, satoru. some of us actually have to work hard.”  
he chuckles, handing the notebook back to you. “hard work is overrated when you can just charm your way through everything.”  
you snort and joke, “if charm was all it took, i’d have aced the midterm.”  
there’s a beat of silence as you glance down at his notes. he’s corrected a mistake you hadn’t even noticed, and his scrawled proof flows so effortlessly it makes you a little envious. “how do you do that?” you ask, more to yourself than him.  
“do what?”  
“make it look so… easy,” you say, frowning slightly. “everything. physics, life, swinging through the city.”  
satoru leans back on his palms, his smirk softening. “trust me, it’s not as easy as it looks.”  
you glance up at him, surprised by the honesty in his tone. “what do you mean?”  
he shrugs, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze flickers away from yours. “i mean, everyone sees the guy with the jokes and the perfect test scores, but no one sees the late nights or the bruises.” he gestures vaguely to his chest, where you know the bruises from his spider-man escapades hide. “guess i’m just good at pretending.”  
you sit with his words, the weight of them settling between you. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” you say softly.  
his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the mask—the real one—drops. “i know,” he says, just as softly.  
the air between you feels heavier, like the world has shrunk to just the two of you. you’re hyper-aware of how close he is, the faint smell of the night clinging to him, the way his knee brushes against yours.  
“thanks,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “for letting me be here. for…” he trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up.  
your breath catches. “satoru…”  
“yeah?” he says, leaning in slightly, his voice lower now.  
“i…” you trail off, not even sure what you were going to say.  
he leans closer, and it feels like everything around you stills. his hand finds its way to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “can i?” he asks, his voice barely audible.  
you nod, and then his lips are on yours.  
the kiss starts tentative, almost shy, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. it deepens, his hand sliding to your waist as you pull him closer. the tension that had been building for weeks—months, maybe—finally snaps, leaving nothing but heat and want in its wake.  
his weight presses you back into the bed, and you can feel his heart racing against yours as he pins you to the bed, now on top of you. his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin, and as his thumb traces shapes into your circle and closer to more sensitive areas, a sigh escapes you.  
that’s when he freezes.  
he pulls back, his breathing uneven, his eyes wide and filled with something like fear. “we can’t,” he says, his voice hoarse.  
your heart drops into your chest.
“why not?” you ask, trying to catch your breath.  
“because,” he says, sitting up and running a hand through his hair and he’s heaving. “because i’m spider-man, and you—” he breaks off, looking anywhere but at you. “you deserve better than this. better than me.”  
you sit up, pulling your shirt back into place and looking at him, hurt. “that’s not your call to make, satoru.”  
“i’m trying to protect you!” he says, his voice rising in agitation. he sits back onto his heels, raking a hand through his hair as he looks at the ceiling, as if in pain.
you can’t believe him. his self-righteousness irritates you to no end, especially after you’ve bared your soul, and now your body to him, something you considered intimate. you feel conflicted—whatever you had, it didn’t have a label. but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want that to be true. badly.
“and who asked you to?” you snap back. “i’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving.”  
“i know that,” he says, his tone softening. “but if something happened to you because of me…” he shakes his head. “i couldn’t live with that.”  
the anger bubbling in your chest boils over, and you snap. “so what? you’re just going to walk away? after everything?”  
he stands, his expression pained. “i’m sorry,” he says, heading for the window.  
“don’t you dare apologize,” you say, your voice trembling as you stand by the foot of your bed, hating how your eyes brim with tears. “if you leave, don’t bother coming back.”  
he pauses, his hand on the window frame, before glancing back at you. “i’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time, before slipping out into the night.  
the window clicks shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence, the ache in your chest threatening to swallow you whole. 
the whir of the espresso machine and the gentle hum of background music fill the mostly empty starbucks, the occasional customer wandering in like clockwork. it’s a quiet shift, the kind you’d usually relish—except today, the quiet only makes the knot in your chest tighten.
you’re stationed behind the counter, staring blankly at the milk steamer as it hisses, lost in your thoughts. that is, until utahime’s voice breaks through.
“alright, spill,” she says, leaning her elbows on the counter beside you.
you glance at her, eyebrows raised. “spill what?”
utahime rolls her eyes, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “oh, please. you look like someone stole your favorite pen and broke it in half. what’s going on?”
“nothing,” you lie, turning back to the steamer. “i’m fine.”
utahime’s skeptical gaze bores into you. “you’re a terrible liar. nanami, back me up.”
from his spot at a nearby table, nanami looks up from his book, his sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto you. “it’s boy trouble,” he says flatly, like he’s solving an equation.
your head snaps toward him, a glare already forming. “excuse me?”
“it’s obvious,” he says, setting his book down and regarding you with his usual piercing gaze. “you’re distracted, you look upset—it’s boy trouble.”
utahime perks up, leaning closer. “wait, is he right? is this about a guy?”
you let out a groan, leaning your elbows on the counter. “can you two not gang up on me right now?”
“so it is a guy,” utahime says, her tone turning smug.
“i didn’t say that,” you retort, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you.
nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection. “you might as well just tell us. it’s not like we’re going to let it go.”
you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “fine. it’s… someone i liked. someone i thought liked me too. but he freaked out and said it was too…dangerous to keep going.”
utahime frowns, her curiosity replaced by concern while kento snorts. “dangerous? what does that even mean?”
“that’s what i’d like to know,” you say bitterly, the frustration bubbling up as you speak. “he acts like he cares, but the second things get serious, he bolts. like i’m some fragile thing that can’t handle it.”
nanami leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “he might not be scared of you. he could be scared of what it means for him. of responsibility and commitment. some people run when they feel too much.”
utahime nods, her hand resting gently on your arm. “whatever his problem is, it’s not fair to you. if he can’t get it together, that’s on him, not you.”
you glance between them, the weight of their words settling in your chest. “i know that,” you say quietly. “it just… sucks.”
“of course it does,” utahime says, her voice soft but firm. “but you’re not the problem here. don’t let him make you think you are.”
nanami picks up his book again but pauses before opening it. “and don’t let him live rent-free in your head. if he can’t see what he’s giving up, that’s his loss.”
their support feels grounding, like a steady hand in the middle of a storm. you manage a small smile, nodding. “thanks, guys.”
“anytime,” utahime says, flashing you a reassuring grin. nanami simply nods, returning to his book but keeping an eye on you like always. for the first time all week since gojo left your room, the heaviness in your chest feels a little lighter.
the knock at your window is faint, almost timid, but it jolts you out of your daze. you sit up in bed, your heart pounding as your eyes dart toward the window. it’s late—so late it’s early—and for a moment, you think you imagined it. you hate to admit it, but because of your boy troubles you haven’t been able to sleep all week. you’re also no stranger to imagining ants crawling up your body or phantom noises, so you adjust in your bed, trying to go back to sleep.
then it comes again, a little louder this time.
you throw off the blanket and pad over, the chill of the floor biting at your bare feet. when you pull the curtain aside, your breath catches.
satoru.
he’s crouched outside, his suit torn in places and soaked with blood. his head lolls slightly, like he’s barely holding himself up, and when he lifts his gaze to meet yours, it’s tired and pleading.
you don’t think—there’s no time for that. you unlatch the window and shove it open, reaching out to help him inside. “satoru, oh my god,” you breathe, your voice shaking.
“hey,” he mutters, his grin weak but still so unmistakably him. “sorry for the mess.”
“shut up,” you snap, guiding him onto your bed and setting him down with gentle hands, ones that contrast your tone with him. “what the hell happened?”
“nothing i couldn’t handle,” he says, wincing as he tries to sit up straighter and flashes you a sheepish smile. “you should see the other guy.”
“you’re bleeding everywhere, satoru. you clearly didn’t handle it.” you grab your first aid kit from under the bed and yank it open, your hands trembling.
“i’ve had worse,” he murmurs, but his bravado is thin, cracking at the edges.
“stop talking,” you say, your voice trembling and cracking. “just—just stop.”
for once, you thank the gods that he listens.
you work quickly, cutting away the shredded fabric of his suit and cleaning the worst of the wounds. it’s not pretty—his torso is littered with bruises and gashes, the kind that make your stomach turn—but you keep your focus.
when you press a disinfectant-soaked pad to a particularly deep cut, he hisses, his hand flying to grab your wrist.
“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him with a tender look in your eyes. his expression matches yours, and your faces are so close to each other that you can’t bear it anymore, going back to your work.
his fingers loosen but don’t let go, his grip warm and grounding. “you’re good at this,” he says softly, his voice rough.
“yeah, well,” you mutter, ducking your head to avoid his gaze. “you’ve given me plenty of practice.”
the silence stretches as you finish bandaging him up. when you’re done, you sit back, your hands still trembling as you place them in your lap. “you’re an idiot,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
he laughs, soft and hoarse. “yeah. i get that a lot from this girl i know.”
you look up at him, and the weight of everything—his injuries, his secret, the distance he tried to put between you—crashes over you. “you can’t keep doing this, satoru. you can’t keep pushing me away just to show up like this.”
his smile fades, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “i know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “i know, but…”
“but what?” you demand, your voice cracking. “you’re spider-man? you think that’s an excuse to keep shutting me out?”
“it’s not an excuse,” he says, running a hand through his messy hair, matted with even more blood. his or someone else’s, you’re not sure. “it’s a reason. i don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
“you think i’m not already hurting?” you snap, the anger bubbling to the surface yet again. “you think it doesn’t kill me to see you like this and know i can’t do anything to stop it?”
his eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like a little boy, lost and unsure. it is then that it hits you that he’s just twenty. a college student, not someone who’s wanted by the cia or someone who’s battled terrorists. for fucks sake, he can’t even legally drink. 
and your heart can’t help but melt as he says, “i just… i don’t want to lose you.”
“then stop trying to,” you say, your voice softer now. “stop pretending like you’re protecting me by keeping me at arm’s length. let me in, satoru.”
he stares at you, his breath hitching like he’s holding back a thousand words. then, in a rush, he closes the distance between you, his hands cradling your face as he presses his forehead to yours.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.”
you exhale shakily, your hands finding their way to his wrists. “just stop being an idiot, okay? stop trying to do this alone.”
he nods, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “i promise,” he says, and for the first time, you believe him.
a cramp gripping satoru’s entire leg is what wakes him up. 
he winces in memory of the injury; one of those stupid terrorists had too good of an aim, grazing his leg while he was mid-air. it hurts like a bitch now, and he moves to lay on his back, until something stops him. roses.
he looks, bleary eyed, to you. the floral scent coming from you, making him dizzy. his body cocooning yours. 
you both unconsciously moved in your sleep so that you were spooning, your fragrant hair, soft from shampooing, tickling his throat with your ass in his crotch.
nestled right against his morning wood.
good fucking lord, he groans to himself, then starts to panic because if you wake up and realize he had a raging hard-on while you were sleeping, you would definitely think he was a creep. he’s already on thin fucking ice. so naturally, he starts to recite the star spangled banner while trying to will his boner away.
oh, say can you see—
to no avail, because you huff softly in your sleep, soft and warm body unconsciously leaning back to grind your ass against his lap, turning his dick to steel.
“oh, fuck,” he curses out loud, using his hand to cover the lower half of his face and clench his eyes shut. you feel so sweet, innocently adjusting while he can’t even control his lust for you.
but once the grind seems to continue for a bit too long, more than what can be chalked up as adjusting in your sleep, he peers down at you. you’re awake. 
and because satoru’s selfish, his hands creep up your tank top, settling on your bare stomach, where he knew you were ticklish. as a result, you wiggle, and he uses this opportunity to pull you even closer to him, right up against him. 
“baby,” he says, making his voice all deep and sighs on purpose, just to be unfair to you. “is this okay?”
you whine, and he settles his face in your hair, the strands of it tickling his skin as he inhales in the scent of you. “i thought it was a dream.”
he smiles into your hair. you make him feel like sunshine incarnate, and the rush he’s getting right now is akin to the one he gets jumping off the empire state building. “no, this is very real.”
“hm,” and you continue to drag your ass into him, murmuring in a soft voice that makes him want to take you right there and then, “it still feels like a dream. like you’re not real, right now.”
oh, what he would do to make you say his name in that same voice; he wants to whisper all the things he wants to do to you right now. “i know, baby. you feel like a dream.” his hands continue to slide up and up your torso, groaning at your sharp intake as he gently fondles the softness of your breasts. 
you overwhelm his senses, teasing him, and when you let out a whine of his name, satoru snaps.
“i’m going to make you feel good right now. tell me if it’s a fucking dream,” he grits out, ignoring whatever cramps that were screaming at him to get on top of you. 
you gasp out a “satoru,” wriggling in his grasp, and he can’t take it anymore. he brings up one of his hands. shoots a web that lands right on your left hand. then your right hand.
satoru just tied you up using his webs.
you look at him in whatever version of shock you can muster in your tired state. “satoru, what the—” but you’re muffled, because he’s kissing you, hard, roving his hands up and down your body and grabbing whatever he can as if he’s devouring you while making out with you.
“do you know,” and his eyes flash dangerously while looking down at yours, “how you’ve teased me with these shorts?” his hands trails down to the waistband of the offending piece of clothing, pulling it to make it snap against your skin. you jump, looking at satoru desperately, who’s left you bare at his mercy, subject to his super human strength as he grabs your shorts with both his hands again. “every fucking time i’ve sneaked up in to your room, it’s been so hard to not fuck you senseless in these flimsy things. it’s only fair you pay the price, right baby?”
it’s not like you have anything to answer him with, having lost all brain cells being fucked out like this. he pulls them down, and if he had laser vision, he would have stared through your panties long ago, eyes fixated on the crotch that was nearly translucent with the amount of slick going through it. burying his face right in between your thighs, he noses at your cunt before groaning. then, he uses his teeth to grab onto the middle and pull. until your pussy is bare to him.
“oh, fuck you’re so pretty,” he curses, lapping at your sweetness. his tongue roves up and down your folds, and if your hands could, they would be pulling at his hair solely because you were so sensitive. but you were trapped, thighs gripped in his strong hands and your arms trapped by his ultra-strong webs. “my good girl.”
then, you feel pressure at your opening. “sato—” you squeal but are immediately interrupted by your own moan as he curls his long, thick fingers, eyes observing your every movement as you squirm, electric shocks running up and down your body as he hits your spot dead-on.
and he notices, because the motherfucker chuckles. “oh, so that’s the spot, huh?” he purrs, visibly pleased as he memorizes it and abuses it, hitting it with every stroke. you barely notice him add one finger, add two fingers as he starts to suck on your clit. overwhelmed with pleasure, you’re only brought back to reality when he rips all contact away from you.
“what—” you mumble mindlessly, until you see what he’s doing. he pulls his sweatpants down. and he’s not wearing boxers, so you drool when his cock springs out, leaking copiously and hard. without taking his eyes off you, he pumps it to its fullest length, and you’re just staring in awe at its sheer length.
“what’re you looking at, baby?” he teases, using his hand to wiggle his cock in front of your face to mock you. “want it so bad, isn’t that right?”
you glare at him half-heartedly, but whine regardless. “just put it in, gojo.”
“oh,” and he flashes you a smile that makes a big danger sign in red flash across your mind. “it’s gojo, now is it?”
 “satoru,” there are tears brimming in the corner of your eyes, the ones that make satoru even more aroused at your want, “please. i need it.”
a boyish grin and a forehead kiss that has you reeling at his duality. “anything for my woman in stem.” with that, he pushes in, both of your eyes rolling back as his cock is engulfed by your gummy walls. soon after, he starts thrusting, desperation fueling both of you as you cross your legs behind gojo’s back, the deeper angle making his thighs shake while fucking into you. 
he grabs your face, gives you a tender kiss. “fuck, i love this pussy. so sweet for me.” 
you give him a wanton moan in return as he continues to thrust deep, tender strokes into you. “satoru, ‘m not gonna last long.” with the amount of foreplay he’s done alongside how sensitive you are, you’re steadily reaching your orgasm already, and with the way satoru’s now tightly gripping the sheets beside you while thrusting inside you, he is too.
wet squelching noises echoes across the room, and you know the neighbors can hear the obscene plap! plap! plap! coming from skin meeting skin, your hips against his. he buries his face into your neck, panting at your ear until he uses his hand to wrench your face towards his.
“i love you,” he groans, forcing your eyes to meet his. “i love you forever and will do so. so you can’t break my heart,” and he’s desperately thrusting again, “and you can’t leave me. please.”
at his confession, you break, back arching as you also squeal out a iloveyou while gasping loudly, hips rolling to rise against his as he fucks you through your orgasm. quickly, his thrusts veer into overstimulation and you whine. “toru.” he takes one look at your state—face impossibly flushed, hands tied, and pussy absolutely engulfing his cock, and his orgasm hits him like a truck, making him gasp and bend and break as he goes to heaven and back with the aftershocks of your orgasm making your pussy clench around him so beautifully. his cum enters you in hot spurts, making you exhale sharply at the feeling as he comes down from his orgasm, collapsing next to you.
for a few minutes, heavy breathing fills the room, both of you catching your breaths. until satoru breaks the silence. “so, what’s it like to fuck a superhero?”
you take one look at him—all smug and propped up on his elbow—and spidey sense be damned as you try grab a pillow. key word is try because you’re then wrenched back with a reminder that you’re still bound. “satoru,” and you give him a sickly sweet smile, the one that he knows means he’s in trouble, “when are these going to dissolve?”
and satoru pretends to be deep in thought, but you can see him trying to inch off the bed slowly, as if to escape your wrath after his answer. “uhm…maybe five hours?”
if it weren’t for the damn spidey sense that he had, he wouldn’t have been able to escape the swing of your legs as you looked at him murderously. “satoru gojo you will unhand me from these webs this instant—-“
“i don’t know,” he shrugs, shit eating grin in his face. “you look kinda sexy in bed like this. mad at me.” but when your eyes flash with anger, he hiccups nervously, telltale of the fact he won’t mess with you.
“i hate you,” you groan out, pouting like a petulant child while you glare at the ceiling.
 satoru comes close to you to bend at his waist and give you a forehead kiss. “no, you don’t.” 
you give him a pointed glare, telling him not to be testy. “clean me up. now.”
at your expression, his eyes widen in fear and he salutes. “anything for you, ma’am.”
at his retreating form, you giggle and sigh to yourself. you never would’ve known that spider-man would be the one fetching a clean up rag for you after fucking the shit out of you, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
when satoru comes back, he cleans you up, tenderly, as if he is afraid that you will break. you’re a little drowsy when he returns to you, but he doesn’t dare try to wake you up when he hears little breaths from your nose indicating you’ve fallen asleep. after he finishes his job, he admires your features.
satoru lingers for a moment, his gaze softening as he watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest. the weight of his responsibilities presses on him, as it always does, but tonight, it feels heavier—like a tether pulling him between the life he’s chosen and the life he craves.
you, so peaceful in sleep, represent something fragile, something precious. and that terrifies him. because what if he fails? what if the cost of being spider-man is losing the one thing that feels real?
still, he knows he can’t walk away—not from this city, not from you. with a deep breath, he leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead, a silent promise lingering in his chest.
“i’ll keep you safe,” he murmurs, barely audible. “no matter what.”
instead of leaving, satoru settles down beside you, careful not to disturb your rest. the city can wait, just for a little while. for now, he wraps an arm around you, grounding himself in the warmth of your presence. as your breathing evens out against him, he lets his own eyes drift shut, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifting. today, he chooses to stay.
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kinktober masterlist | general masterlist | spiderman!gojo masterlist
a/n ok if you're ever curious what being fucked in the ass with a wooden dildo no lube is like, just try to write this fic or any longfic. it's 4am, this a/n is short and unintelligble just like most of this fic but it's been a journey, im very sentimental because of this fic and i hope you guys like it. ok im going to pass out so pls ignore all typos xoxo but please flood my inbox im excited to see yalls reactions when i wake up
plspls pls comment and reblog!!!
TAGLIST
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gods-favorite-autistic · 3 months ago
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Shoutout to getting in a fight with my friends over them constantly making fun of me and them saying they would do something about it and then it just keeps happening. I love conflict resolution.
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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 11 months ago
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Heylo my maggotsies... I'm sorry to do this but I have a thing that I really, really need to do (thank you Ash for helping me realise that) but I'm terrified to. so well. I'm going to make one of the posts (Neil reblogged me a couple of days ago so I feel pretty safe making one now since he only lurks by once in two weeks so this is as good a time as it gets to make a post and not expect many notes, yes I'm an overthinker and I'm actually scared of this getting notes).
Sigh. Here goes.
...I'm scared of even typing it.
Nope okay I can do this let's go.
If this post gets 1k notes, I'll look up jobs in design and film making that don't need a college degree.
2k notes, I'll sign up for an Alliance Francaise course so I can have another language on my CV, and I'll find a course that teaches me how to use design software.
5k, I'll look up distance learning alternatives, because just talking about physical college yesterday made me spend the whole morning and afternoon today in and out of nightmares screaming. Fuck.
10k, I'll tell my mum that I can't do the offline college. She's been talking to me about it, but I've been dodging because I'm not well-off and I really need to be earning and idk how to do that without college and I feel so guilty.
15k, I'll officially back out from the college (does that count as dropping out, if it hasn't begun? maybe half. i am a college and a half dropout, my 11th grade self would hate me and my 10th grade self would refuse to believe it).
I don't know what I'll do then. I don't know how to live as trans here in India, I don't know how to earn enough to be able to help my family, I don't know what I'm good at and I'm so fucking terrified. But. I spoke to @random-doctor-on-the-internet last night (I love you Ash you're such a fucking amazing human) and they made me realise that well maybe landing in a hospital with steroids to relieve an allergy attack because of exam stress isn't normal and so.
Well. Here I am. I know I can't do it, but I'm scared to risk everything, it's just not something people do here, dropping out. But also (TW s**cide statistics mentioned below the cut)... And so I've just. Got to do it, got to save myself and say no to college (cue say no to school, kids joke). Somehow be brave enough. And yeah.
To quote a financial express article: "In an alarming situation, a total of 7,62,648 suicides were reported in India between 2018 to 2022, Of this student suicides account for 7.6% at 59,239". Maybe if more people did say fuck you to the system here, that wouldn't be the case. That number could have been 59,240 (aside from everyone who wasn't counted and hushed up), that could have been me, and I don't want to put myself in that situation again. You know? Yeah.
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madamechrissy · 18 days ago
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Ex Husband Toji
MDNI- NSFW- explicit sex, dirty talk, oral (m and f recieving) lil bit of rough sex, Toji calls you doll and Mama, creampie, breed kink, reader is Megumi's mom and Toji needs another kid lol
Ex Husband Toji who you're so mad at, because he's late picking up Megumi for his day to take him to school again, so you decide to go directly to his house, banging on the door.
Ex Husband Toji who overslept after working all night, and feels awful he's fucked up again, but when he sees your cute little scowl, he's instantly turned on, because fuck he misses you so much.
Ex Husband Toji who smirks, licking his full lower lip as his dark green eyes drink you in. 'still in your pajamas, huh doll?' earning you shoving at his chest now, crossing your arms. 'was supposed to be your day to take Gumi, no I wasn't dressed!' Toji really likes this crop top, the strap hanging off your bare shoulder, your nipples perk up as he stares, earning a smug grin
Ex Husband Toji laughs as he says 'could've just told me you wanted to get off, y'know' earning your smack on his cheek, which really just makes him hard for you as you stomp in his house. He's shirtless and in sweats, you're trying to avoid looking at his chiseled, muscular body because if you stare too long you'll remember how good he fucked you, so you cross your arms, glaring and say 'I actually have a date tonight, Toji'
Ex Husband Toji scowls now, stepping up to you, he's so big he takes over the whole little home it seems, his big rough hands gripping your bare waist, thumbs pressing against your rib cage. 'what's that now, doll? I must've fuckin misheard' you scoff, shoving his hands off 'didn't mishear shit, we're done you know that' he yanks you to him now, and when you're pressed against his body? your brain short circuits as he leans down so close you taste the cigarettes on his breath
Ex Husband Toji slams his lips on yours, you feel that scar rubbing against your mouth, as his tongue devours you, lapping in and out so fucking messy. No one fucking kisses you like that, no one can do this to you, but you can't fuck him again, this keeps happening and you have to move on. You back away then, panting, eyes locked on his, and then he says it 'I fuckin miss you, so much y'know that? miss you cummin on m'face'
Ex Husband Toji may or may not then have your thighs spread on his kitchen table, he may or may not have your sleep shorts yanked to the side, and he may or may not have his face buried between your thighs. He's lapping you up, tasting your sweet arousal all over his mouth, as he looks up under sooty lashes. Your hands yank his inky black hair as you gasp, while he fucks your gummy walls so goddamn well, crying out 'still h-hate you, T-Toji' earning him leaning back with a devious fucking grin, as he smacks your cunt.
Ex Husband Toji who watches you tremble and whimper as he spits on your clit, watching the bubbly liquid drip between your lip, slipping two thick fingers into your tight little hole, cock throbbing under his sweats as he remembers how good you feel clenching him. He's not been with anyone else, how could he? 'T-Toji, f-fuck!' you're screaming his name, eyes rolling back while he scissors those fingers in and out of your soppy little hole, which flutters around them. 'ya gonna cum f'me doll? let me see it... there ya go'
Ex Husband Toji Has you cumming all over his fingers, white hot stars blinding you, as it washes all over, no one could do this to you, and soon he's got you turned and bent over the table, legs dangling pathetic as he slides those slutty grey sweats down, releasing his thick heavy cock, that shoves in your soaking wet cunt, stretching you so good. 'Ah! oh my god!' you have tears in your eyes as he grips your hips, begining to fuck into you, slamming your cervix as his balls smack your little twitching clit
Ex Husband Toji loves how you feel so much, muttering 'f-fuckin missed this, missed your cunt gripping me... cum on doll, cum again lemme feel her' you need no urging, you're pulsing around his cock in the middle of his messy ass kitchen, on his old table scattered with cards and gambling tickets. He shoves your head down as he grips a wrist, pulling it behind your back and bottoming out, stuffing you so full you're soaking him completely, gasping for a breath.
Ex Husband Toji who busts inside you, muttering 'need a lil brother or sister for Gumi, don't we, mama?' and you're just nodding weakly, feeling his load so deep inside you, fucking up your guts as he's still fucking into you, he tilts your chin, slamming his lips on yours as he leans over you, big hands taking over your body, cock twitching in you. 'stop this shit, come home' he whispers, you pull away then, on trembling legs, glaring up at him.
Ex Husband Toji hopes he knocked you up again as you go off on him for being late, as you act like you're going to leave, only for you to be on your knees sucking yourself off him, and as he's fucking your throat he's pretty damn sure you're not going on any date at all
permatag list: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric 🩵
Toji Masterlist
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sloaneispunk · 10 days ago
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“teacher’s pet” (mdni 18+)
teacher!in-ho x you
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when in-ho’s wife tragically passed, he found comfort in a certain student in his class. how far was he willing to go with a student?
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
in-ho had a perfect life. stable job, great friends and a loving wife.
he loved his wife unconditionally, they had the perfect relationship. they rarely argued, and the sex was amazing.
but his life came crumbling when he received a phone call from the hospital. his wife had gotten into a car accident.
in-ho was lost after that, for a few months he stepped down from teaching. he spent his time trying to find his happiness again. it was hard, he was stricken with grief, he thought there was nothing else for him in life.
eventually in-ho felt like he should get off his ass and do something.
he met with the principal of the school he was teaching at, wanting to get back.
he thought of it like a distraction, just something he could look forward to in the daytime.
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
it was the first day of school, students were pushing and shoving to get to class.
you entered the classroom with your friends, seeing a new, unfamiliar teacher at the front of the classroom, taking your seat at the back.
“good morning class, my name is mr in-ho, i’ll be your new math teacher this semester.” the teacher announced as he turned to face the students.
“hey, he’s pretty hot.” you turned to look at your friend with your mouth hung wide open, slapping her on the arm as you both laughed.
lesson went on as per normal that first day, mr in-ho spent the hour introducing himself and getting to know everyone.
as the bell rang, signalling the end of class, everyone packed their bags frantically.
“that’s all, i’ll see everyone tomorrow.” mr in-ho said.
as the students got up to leave, a loud thud was heard from the front of the classroom.
“get up, nerd.” you heard.
you sighed, walking towards the girl who had been tripped by another student, helping her up as you glared at her bully.
“fuck off, what do you want?” you asked, taking a protective stand in front of the poor girl.
the bully said nothing, simply turning on his heel and leaving.
by now, all the students had left, leaving you, the girl, and mr in-ho behind.
“t-thank you.” the girl said, bowing her head as you frowned.
“you don’t have to thank me. he shouldn’t be doing that… are you okay?” you asked.
she then nodded, giving you an awkward smile as you scurried off.
“hey, what’s your name?” you heard a voice call out from behind you.
“oh, i didn’t realise you were still here.” you replied, seeing the new teacher behind his desk, packing his bag. “i’m y/n. y/n l/n.”
“that’s pretty.” he commented, offering you a small smile.
“thank you.” you blushed.
“that was really kind, what you did there.”
“oh, yeah, he has been really mean to many students. poor girl just didn’t have anyone looking out for her.”
“you’re a good girl, y/n.”
oh.
“t-thank you?” you chuckled nervously.
“what’s your next class? maybe i could walk you there.” mr in-ho said as the two of you stepped outside into the hallway.
“english. but i think i’ll be the one leading you.” you joked, causing him to let out a laugh.
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
that night, in-ho went home feeling better than he had been the past few months. he felt like he had really connected with his new students.
they were so kind, so gentle, so sweet…
no, you were.
you were so kind, so gentle, so sweet.
the interaction he had with you kept replaying in his mind, he couldn’t think about anything or anyone else.
you reminded him of someone he used to know, and that fueled him.
the next day, he went to class as per usual. however, he didn’t take your class until noon, which meant he had to wait patiently for your class.
by 11am, he got pretty bored he had to admit. in-ho felt like he was just going through the motions, teaching the different batches of students that came in one after another.
however, when the clock striked 12, oh he was excited.
what he was excited about? he didn’t know.
he then heard a familiar laugh echoing through the halls. he turned to the door, waiting expectantly for you to come through.
the door flew open, revealing not only you to his dismay, but your group of friends surrounding you. he couldn’t make out what you were laughing about but he was incredibly intrigued.
“good afternoon.” you said cheerfully as you gave him a small wave before you took your seat.
in-ho felt a wave of flush run through him, he cleared his throat and ruffled his hair. “good afternoon, y/n.”
“oo, someone already made a move before the rest of us.” your friend teased, nudging your elbow playfully as you rolled your eyes.
time passed quickly as in-ho taught his first lesson to your class. he had found himself stealing tiny glances of you as he walked around, trying his hardest to not make it obvious.
his heart was beating so quickly he thought he could pass out.
maybe he was being delusional, or maybe even hallucinating, but he swore at times when he stole glances, you were already staring. and that made him nearly choke on his words multiple times.
after class, he stayed behind again, hoping that you would somehow approach him, striking up a conversation.
but you didn’t.
someone did approach him, but it wasn’t you. it was your friend.
“so… where did you teach before this? do you like it here? how is it like teaching our class?” she bombarded him with questions.
you took it as a sign to leave.
as you walked out, you turned for one last look. but to your surprise, you were met with the eyes of mr in-ho, as soon as he had been caught, he looked away, pretending to be interested in the conversation.
“see you tomorrow, mr in-ho.” you called out. but before he had the chance to reply, you had left.
somehow, you felt jealous. jealous that he was talking to someone like you first did. but why did it matter? he was just your teacher afterall.
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
that night as he got home, in-ho dropped all his things. he practically ripped open his shirt and unbuckled his pants as fast as he could.
god, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.
he thought of your soft voice and your innocent face as he started to stroke himself.
‘fuck.’ he cursed as he started to go faster, his mind racing with images of your face.
he could almost hear your voice calling his name again. he replayed your laughter over and over again like a broken record.
in-ho went to sleep that night with you and only you on his mind. he knew he was fucked.
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
weeks went by and in-ho found himself getting bolder and bolder.
within a month, he moved on to not so subtle touches.
as he paced around the classroom teaching, he took your seat at the back of the classroom to his advantage. he tested waters initially, brushing against your arm as he walked by.
when you seemed okay with it, he tried to deepen the contact.
he would place a hand on your shoulder as he passed you. when you didn’t move away or seemed uncomfortable, he knew he hit the jackpot.
his touch started to linger for longer than it needed to. somehow he craved touching you more and more.
what made him more desperate was the fact that he could smell your perfume whenever he walked anywhere near you.
it messed with his head in the best way possible.
furthermore, he started to notice how his actions took a toll on you. whenever he gently touched your shoulder, you would draw your legs together. was he really turning you on?
if he had happened to see you in the hallways, he would call you by name, greeting you, even starting small conversations.
he loved how everytime he did so, you light blush would creep onto your cheeks and you would struggle to meet his gaze, looking anywhere but into his eyes.
if this continued, he didn’t know how much he could take. all the cock-teasing, the small interactions.
he wanted more.
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
( bungee jumping off their own - 2001 )
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lord-radish · 1 year ago
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There's this post I keep trying to write about listening to the mountain goats at work but it comes down to it being the only music I would feel comfortable being "caught" listening to. And that opens up a whole can of worms about where that comes from, which you wouldn't necessarily think - like usually it's like "ahaha I wouldn't be caught dead listening to this" - but it's most of my music taste and I managed to realise where it comes from.
My sister would put me down and belittle me for things like that. Like we used to play a lot of SingStar 80's, but there was one time - like legit the only time in years of us owning the game - where I went to sing "I Want to Know What Love Is" by Foreigner, and she teased me by saying "hahaha, [mallard] wants to know what love is!" and making me feel really embarrassed and shitty for just wanting to play that part of the game.
And that was how she approached pretty much anything that would make me look vulnerable. Like the reason I had never tried to play that song before is because it was something I thought she'd pick on me for, which she then eventually did. She mocked me for YouTube videos I watched sometimes, or for crying at a movie one time. She even managed to turn me saying that I was reading into some weird, gross jeer about how I said I was "breeding", like what the fuck right?
So if I'm at work by myself and I can put some music on, I put the Mountain Goats on because if someone walked in, I would feel less ashamed being caught listening to that than most of my music library. And I like the Mountain Goats, but I hate that I can't let go of that shame or insecurity because it's too much to deal with. That embarrassment is amplified by the thought of being judged as harshly as I have been for my interests and behaviours in the past.
#messyposting#there are times where I've said and done some fucked up things but my entire childhood was enveloped by being bullied#i was bullied at school and then I was bullied at home. and she would go 'i protected you from bullies!'#and to her credit she did protect me a few times. she probably protected me plenty of times I didn't know about#but it doesn't excuse the constant mockery and shame. it doesn't excuse her ruining one of my new years by choking me#it was for like two seconds but it shocked me to the point of silence. which was the point because my excitement got on her nerves#she was a closeted lesbian with undiagnosed bpd - and I'm applying that from like age 8 to her eventual 20s - but it doesn't change things#i feel sorry for her hardships but the treatment I got at home was scarring and horrible#she's not the only source of that - we have a mutual dislike of our mother's partner - but she's a huge factor in it#and she *still* makes fun of me and laughs it off as 'you'd do the same to me'#like no I fucking wouldn't. i grew up#I'm cutting her out of my life. I just am#I used to spend entire days just consumed by these thoughts of fending away my former best friend#as he tries to rationalise his way back into my life against my wishes#lately I've been thinking of telling my sister off and cutting her out of my life#refusing to let her see my home and just screaming at her to stay out of my life#literally all of this started with a Tumblr post about how the mountain goats are a good band to listen to at work. at least to yourself#it was like 'tmg are the only band I like to listen to at work' and I was gonna break down why. and then it hit me why#yeah that's the repressed shame that comes from a lifetime of bullying and being put down and othered all the time#most of all from someone at home because you have no escape
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cybersunnie · 26 days ago
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the look of love | collection
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RAFE CAMERON meets the new art teacher.
includes fem!teacher!reader / uncle!rafe / reader goes by "miss sugar" / fluff / grumpy x sunshine / family dynamics / safe to read! / wc 1.5k
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Sarah already had her own family. Two rascals, Jackson and Josie. Meanwhile, Rafe didn’t. He had no kids. Nada. Zero. And he planned to keep it that way for a while.
As much as he loved his niece and nephew, they depleted his desire to have any. They were both rowdy and talkative and an awful lot like their parents. 
It scared him. 
He didn’t need more John B’s and Sarah’s walking the earth. Those little devils.
And yet, he was on his way to pick them up from school.
He never had to before. It was typically JJ, Kie, or anyone who wasn’t him. But apparently, the Pogues were more swamped than usual and had a ‘customer issue’ at their little Surf Shop. Whatever that meant.
Safe to say, Rafe wasn’t too thrilled about it. He was a busy man—the CEO of Cameron Development, to be exact. Children didn’t fit in his schedule. At least, that was what he told himself on the lonelier, quieter days. But family was family, as his dad always said. So, when his sister had called him, pleading, he reluctantly agreed. 
When he pulled into the pick-up zone, driving along the curb, he spotted his niece and nephew. They were hard to miss, not only because they were the only kids in front of the school, but because of the woman accompanying them. You. 
With the sweetest smile Rafe had ever seen, you stood between them, hands clasped behind your back, your eyes darting between the two children as they talked over each other. 
Rafe stopped in front of them and rolled the windows down. The youngest of the two, Josie, was the first to notice. 
An exaggeratedly loud gasp left her lips, her eyes wide. “Uncle Rafe!” 
That set off a chain reaction. 
Jackson looked up, his brows furrowed. “Uncle Rafe?” 
Rafe didn’t know if he should feel offended.
Then, your gaze shifted away from the kids, meeting his eyes through the passenger window. Time slowed. He saw your smile soften, and you waved at him. His heart lurched out of his chest, the feeling foreign and borderline uncomfortable. 
What the fuck?
But he didn’t have time to dwell on the feeling as his niece and nephew rushed towards his car.
“Uncle, uncle, uncle,” Josie chanted, panting like she ran a mile. “You’re pickin’ us up?”
Jackson stared at him with narrowed eyes. “You never pick us up.” 
Damn, what was this kid’s problem?
“Yes, Josie. And, well, they’re busy at the Surf Shop,” Rafe sighed, unlocking the car doors to let them in. “So, you guys got me for today.”
Through the rearview mirror, he watched the children clamber into the vehicle, feet kicking and hands flying as they argued about trivial matters—I always sit on the left side! So? I got in first. You’re being a butthead! I’m telling mommy you called me a butthead!—and so on. He chuckled, his lips curving into a grin.
Suddenly, you spoke, “They’re special, huh?” 
Your voice was warm and inviting. He didn’t know a person could sound so lovely.
When Rafe looked at you, he forgot how to speak. Every word he knew? Gone. And you barely did anything. You were just standing before the passenger door, staring back at him. He couldn’t help but notice the smudge of orange paint on the bridge of your nose. 
“Yeah, definitely,” he ultimately said, nodding.
You extended your right hand out to him through the open window. He saw more dried paint on your fingertips. “I’m Miss Sugar, the new art teacher here.”
Ah, that explained it. 
“Rafe.” He shook your hand, his eyes locked on your face. Your hand felt soft but far from fragile. “Rafe Cameron.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” you beamed.
Did you ever stop smiling? Your cheeks should be hurting at this rate. 
He nodded, letting go of your hand before he looked like a creep. “Pleasure’s all mine.”
“Oh, Uncle Rafe,” Josie called, rummaging through her backpack, “me and Jackson made a paper chain thingy with Miss Sugar! Look, this one’s you!” 
He turned his head, eyes squinting at the paper doll chain she held up. Josie explained they made it during the after-school program, where she and Jackson spent a few extra hours each day. There were nine cut-out paper dolls, with what he assumed to be Josie at the start and him at the end. It was rough around the edges, but what did Rafe expect from a five-year-old? And the longer he stared at it, Rafe figured he was a last-minute addition, his hand glued to Sarah’s doll, the paper there wrinkled. 
From the corner of his eye, he saw you tilt your head into his car, looking at the kids. You seemed proud. It made him wonder what it felt like to have someone be proud of him.
“That’s really nice.” Rafe looked at his niece, who grinned brightly at his praise. He then stared at the frowny face drawn on his doll. “Why’s everyone smiling except for me?”
“Because you’re always grumpy,” Jackson replied bluntly. 
Little Josie slapped a hand over her mouth and erupted in giggles. Of course, his nephew was the one behind it.
Seriously, did this kid have a vendetta against him?
“Okay, you—” Rafe caught sight of your amused expression, and he bit back his words, “—I’m not always grumpy.”
You tried to cover up your laugh with a cough. “Yeah, he doesn’t look grumpy right now,” you defended, though it was far from convincing. Then you shot him a wink, and the gears in his mind stuttered and fell apart. Were you flirting with him? Or was it more of an ‘I got your back’ sort of wink? 
Fuck, why did he even care? He needed to pull himself together. 
“Anyways, I have to get back now,” you sighed, and the kids protested almost immediately. He saw a frown tug on your features, and you moved to the backseat window, cooing a mix of ‘I know’ and ‘I wish I could stay longer’ that eased their complaints. Eventually, you moved to the passenger window again, telling him a sweet, “Get home safe.”
Rafe felt himself having to fight back a smile. “Thanks.” 
You pursed your lips, your fingers tapping the window seal. “Don’t be a stranger, Rafe Cameron,” you said, stepping back from his car.
Jackson and Josie shouted their goodbyes to you before he could respond, but your words rang in his ears. Don’t be a stranger. He watched you wave to him and the kids before turning on your heel, your long skirt dancing around your legs as you made your way to the school’s entrance. Once you disappeared behind the door, he eased off the brake and pulled out of the pick-up zone.
As Rafe drove the kids home, the wind whipped through the open windows, the music on the stereo hummed softly, and his niece and nephew whispered to each other in the backseat. What about? He didn’t know, nor did he want to know. But he suspected they were up to no good. 
Josie cleared her throat with an over-the-top ahem, ahem! “Uncle Rafe?”
“What?”
She didn’t waste another second. “What you think of Miss Sugar?”
Rafe stared hard at the road. He had many thoughts about you: beautiful, messy, stunning, smiled too much, gorgeous. 
“Uh, she seems nice,” he answered, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “Why?”
“Just wondering!” Josie chirped.
Silence fell between them.
He thought that would be it, and then he heard more whispering. Dread flooded his body. Rafe tweaked the stereo volume higher. They hadn’t caught that you piqued his interest, right? No, that would be ridiculous. They were kids. They would be none the wiser.
At least, he thought so until his niece asked, “Do you think she’s pretty?”
No wonder the Pogues called her Nosy Josie. It all made sense now. And, of course, he thought you were pretty. Who wouldn’t?
Rafe sucked in a breath, scratching his brow. “I’m not answerin’ that.”
Jackson grumbled, “I told you, Josie.” 
“You didn’t!” 
And a new argument ensued. But for once, Rafe was content listening to their high-pitched shouts because that meant the attention was off him. He didn’t want to be pestered about you any further. If Josie had kept pushing, he feared he would be sent down a rabbit hole, you consuming his thoughts.
But maybe he had already fallen down the rabbit hole. He was just too busy denying it.
Soon, Rafe arrived at their home, and the kids hopped out of his car and ran to their parents. Sarah thanked him for picking them up as John B took them inside—Josie sat on his hip, with Jackson walking beside him. He brushed it off, even offering to pick them up from school more often. His sister looked surprised and a little skeptical, but she didn’t question his change of heart. 
While Rafe Cameron didn’t have time for children, he could make time for you.
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sunnie speaks! i realized miss sugar is barely in this WHOOPS!!! but i hope you guys found his dynamic w jackson and josie fun, haha! i sure had a fun time writing it :D let's chat about rafe cameron / teacher!reader
if you like my work, consider following @sunniefics to stay up to date on all my future fics!
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gojoest · 1 month ago
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curiosity (part 2) — gojo satoru
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MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns, childhood best friends to lovers, college, no curse au, once again mention of ex gfs (one of them makes a brief appearance), pining, reader wears boy shorts, reader is a virgin (no virginity loss), so is satoru lol, mutual masturbation (handjobs + fingering), he cums on your belly (accidentally), pussyjob, first kiss, kind of proofread (sry if tenses are messed up), wc: 5.3k, dividers by @/cafekitsune 
this takes place the morning after the handjob you gave satoru and is basically a long ramble about two childhood best friends exploring each other’s bodies (nowhere near in moderation) but finding it difficult to redefine their bond. 
part 1
a/n: i didn’t think i would get around to writing a continuation but here we are... i fear there will be a part 3 as well in the future :’) i hope you enjoy! <3 
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Last night Satoru and you slept together, in one bed, for the first time in years. 
Sure, it wasn’t just sleeping like you initially (and very confidently) suggested. Curiosity got the better of you after he, although not intentionally, showed you a side to him you had never seen before. And so, you got a bit handsy. 
Satoru stopped sharing a bed with you during sleepovers sometime early into high school. ‘You always hog the blanket’, ‘You toss and turn a lot’, ‘You breathe too loud’, ‘It’s too hot’... — is what he would say, and you didn’t think much of it. Shrugging it off as him being a rude idiot, trying to make you look bad. 
There was no way he’d actually tell you that he had started popping frequent boners around you, courtesy of puberty along with these unrequited feelings he started harboring for you the day you moved into his neighborhood at the age of four. 
It was embarrassing. He couldn’t possibly come clean to you — you were best friends. What if you came to hate him? What if you started avoiding him? 
He spent his high school years trying to get over you. He started dating around. But he never felt the same way with any of the other girls, a clear sign of which was his actions and the lack of dedication toward them. He’d often forget about promised dates or picking them up after school to walk home together because he was too busy following you around. Helplessly. Hopelessly. He couldn’t just leave you on your own even for a second, the thought of seeing another dude hanging around you would scare the shit out of him. Trying to let go yet strongly clinging to you. You didn’t need to like him back as long as you didn’t like anyone else either. Just stay by his side. 
And now, college isn’t any different. 
Well, it wasn’t. Until last night. 
Satoru couldn’t sleep after what happened while you dozed off quickly, as if the events that took place were nothing out of the ordinary. You seemed oddly comfortable which, truth be told, rose concern in him. 
He had a lot of questions. 
Do you like him? Weren’t you supposed to be at least a bit nervous if you did? Or were you simply so curious about these stuff that anyone would’ve been fine, it just happened to be him? He’s glad it was him. But what will happen with you two now? Will things be awkward? Can you go back to how you used to be? What is he supposed to say to you once you open your eyes? Will you start avoiding him? Should he pretend like nothing happened? 
“Shit, I fucked up”, he whispers, thumbing his forehead like he’s trying to get rid of a headache that isn’t even there. 
Please don’t avoid me, he thinks as his gaze shifts to you, still sleeping soundly. 
You were drooling on the pillow in your sleep. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were crusty, the dried residue sitting in the inner corners of them. The entire blanket was on your side too, covering only you while he was out in the open, his feet cold.  
What’s so good about you anyway?, he thought for a good minute. A soft smile creeping in on his lips. He couldn’t come up with a single thing that wasn't. 
“Mff...”, you let out a drowsy yawn and your eyes flutter open. Rolling on your back, you stretch your arms up and turn your head to look at Satoru. “Mowniiin’ ”, you drag out through another yawn. 
Satoru’s heartrate picks up. Here comes the moment he’s been dreading — facing the consequences. “Hey”, he greets back, a little bit dull in order to mask his nervousness as he acts out in his head all the different possibilities and the plausible end of your friendship. 
“You don’t have a boner again, do you?”, you ask bluntly, unaware of the sweat and blood he’d been shedding in an internal battle up until now, filled with fear that today might be the day he loses it all. 
“Really now?”, he gives you a look. Your crudeness is astounding him but in a way it also lessens the worry in his chest. “You’re really going to ask me that?” 
“...do you?”, you turn on your side again, a glint of amusement in your expression. 
“You know I am. Don’t you see it yourself?”, he clicks his tongue. 
You snicker to yourself. Of course you do. After all, the blanket was wrapped around you only while he laid exposed next to you with no layer to cover the bulge in his shorts. 
“Morning wood?”, you look at it. “Or is it because of me again?” 
“Stop assuming things, it’s morning wood”, he states point-blank. “It’s always like this when I wake up”, which was a lie. It didn’t always happen, or at least it wasn’t this insistent. 
“Hmm”, you nod. “Maybe you’re not cumming enough?” 
“That’s not how it works”, he sighs. “And this is definitely not something I’ve ever expected to hear from you” 
“Hmm”, you nod again. Peeking at him mischievously. “Can I—” 
“No.” 
“But—” 
“Cut it out, will you? What’s gotten into you ever since last night? Asking to touch me and what not?”, he snaps, frustrated.  
“But you let me” 
“Men can’t say no to that when they’re about to bust”, he lies, kind of. “But what the hell is wrong with you?” He thinks it’s so unfair to test him like this when he’s the only one with feelings. It is quite cruel of you. 
“I don’t know”, you shrug, a guilty pout on your mouth. Satoru never raises his voice at you unless something is really bugging him. “I’m not sure myself, but I liked it, what happened last night... I enjoyed it”, you quietly admit. 
“You did?”, his voice goes back to normal, but this time it’s his eyes that snap wide. A slight sense of hope creeps in inside his heart now. Maybe this little slip-up could kick start something, he starts to think. 
You nod. “Didn’t you like it too?” 
“...I did”, his face heats up and he covers it with a hand. The essence of the conversation and the fact you liked touching him made his cock even harder. It wasn’t just a simple morning wood at this point. 
“I want to do it again”, you tell him. “But do you?” 
“You ask me stuff like this when I am horny and expect me to turn you down?” He slowly slides his hand down his face, stopping it right over his mouth and cupping it into his palm. “Are you sure?”, his voice muffled. 
You shake your head affirmatively, with zero hesitation. “Can you touch me too? I got really wet last night while jerking you off... Your struggling face and the sounds you made were really...sexy. I wanted to cum too”, a tint of embarrassment in your tone now that you were saying this out loud. 
Your abrupt and not at all anticipated confession had Satoru almost chocking on his own saliva. Due to shock, it went down the wrong pipe when swallowing, leading him to cough profusely. “I am starting to think that you’re plotting to kill me one of these days” 
“It’s because you told me to come to you if I ever get curious about other things” 
“I clearly did not mean murder” 
You chuckle, and slowly peel the covers off you, throwing them out of the way and kicking them behind you. The shirt you’re wearing rolled up, exposing the boy shorts on your lower half and a damp spot visibly staining them on the front. 
“You're wet", Satoru points out, surprise and smugness mixed in his expression.  
“I thought you didn’t like to state the obvious”, you huff, rushing to fix yourself, but he reaches for your hand and stops you in your tracks.  
“Is it because of me?”, he looks at you with a glint of hope, giving you a taste of your own medicine, while guiding your touch toward his crotch. His other hand pulling his shorts and boxers down, just enough to take his cock out and press your hand on it — feeling less awkward and a little bit more confident about this now that he sees clear indications of your arousal. 
Sure, you touched him last night, but you didn’t see him... It all happened under the covers, so this was a first. He was big, both lengthy and girthy. Veiny too. Precum slicked the tip of his cock. The head was pink while the rest — a lighter shade but still a bit darker than his complexion. You didn’t think of it as pretty, yet it was stirring weird, unknown emotions and desires in you. 
“...yeah, ‘cause of you... I think”, you bury your face in the pillow, shying away, but at the same time you shamelessly wrap your hand around his length, giving it a slow first stroke, causing his breath to rasp in his chest. The needy little pant he let out the second you made contact with him urged you to rub your thighs together, the tension in your lower half growing heavier. 
Now with your roles somehow reversed, you realize how embarrassed he must’ve been last night... 
“Can I?”, he swallows nervously. His hand, slightly shaking, held out in front of your clothed pussy, waiting for your verbal permission before he goes any further.  
“Go ahead, I was the one who asked in the first place”, you reassure. 
Just like he did for you, you help your shorts down for him and place his hand between your folds. “But—”, you pause, timidly flinching at the foreign touch. “Don’t push your fingers very deep, I— well, you know...” 
He smiles. “I know, don’t worry”  
He was aware that you never had your first time. Neither did he, which you would probably never guess. 
Despite his rich and lengthy dating history, Satoru never went that far with any of his girlfriends. Not that the opportunity was never present — he had the looks and he had the charm so naturally they would throw themselves at him quite often. But he simply never desired them enough to even pop a boner. Well, sure it happened a few times here and there and only because some of them resembled you way too much. 
At the end of the day, his dick and his mind were oddly connected. And his mind, it was still stuck on you. Perhaps, deep down, he always hoped that one day you’d be his first. 
Just like last night, you were laid on your sides again, but this time both of you had your hands in each other’s pants. Your faces so close you were touching foreheads and breathing into your mouths. Not kissing, just breathing and exchanging pants and lewd moans as you worked your hands through the pleasure of the other, reveling in the sounds you each made.  
"Is this, um, okay... like this?”, he breathily asks, but what he truly means is ‘Am I doing this right?’, while he’s got his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles, and two of his fingers — index and middle — carefully gliding over your inner lips. 
You hum, biting your lip in an attempt to swallow the obscenity threatening to roll out of your tongue. Your mind was slowly going blank. “I-it f-feels real-ly g-good”, you manage through multiple pants. “Too g-good", you add, your grip letting loose around him, slowing down the strokes, the more he teased your folds. But, his free hand grabs yours, squeezing you back around him while he starts to buck his hips into your fist — a subtle reminder to maintain your ministrations, to not forget about him. 
You huff at his actions, but it’s only fair — you acknowledge.  
He must have quite the experience, you think. This thought a bit bothering you on itself, that he’s had his hand down other girls’ pants before, maybe his cock too, so he’s able to multitask like this... While this is a first for you. Unsure why, you feel like slapping him the more you think about it, picturing him with other girls makes you oddly jealous, but his fingers ease you back into pleasure. You’ll get mad at him later, you think. 
“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?”, he nuzzles his nose against yours — since both of his hands were busy now, this was the only way of asking you to look at him. 
He wanted to see your eyes and confirm for himself that you were indeed alright, that he was really doing this right because he’s never done it before, only seen it in porn. He was afraid that he’d get too distracted and hurt you unintentionally. You felt so good against his fingers that it was enough to make him lose control. All the wet dreams he’s had in the past can’t compare. He already had a lewd depiction of you in his mind that he used to jerk off to — about the way you’d look and feel down there, about the noises you’d make, about the ways your face would contort with fervor... But he realizes now that he was too frivolous and lacking in imagination. The real you beats it all. 
You look at him, your brows slightly lifted, lips closed but twitching in betrayal, threatening to let out the loud moan building in your throat. His fingers scarcely prodding in only weakening your resolve. 
“Let it out”, he speaks to you softly. “Don’t hold it back”, again with that sweet, sweet voice. 
"Shit, you’re so foul when you use that kind of voice”, you audibly gasp, and then let it all out.  
He chuckles. 
His pace quicker now, greedily trying to drag more moans out of you. His entire palm, squished between your legs, now covering your pussy, rubbing harder against your folds with his middle finger slightly curled so the tip of it darts inside you with every movement. Not too deep, just enough to not break your hymen. It was driving you insane and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You’re certain you have never been this loud in your entire life. And you really wanted to slap him again because you were the only mess right now, your urge going stronger after witnessing that cheeky expression on his face, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, too focused to make you cum — maybe he was paying you back for last night. 
But alas, you couldn’t do anything about it. You lost control, completely as he hit just the right places and brought you overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure. 
“Did it feel good?”, Satoru curiously peeks at you as you try to catch your breath. 
“Yes”, you heave. His hand was still there, fingers fumbling with your folds, hence why the tremors washing through your body took longer to quiet down. “Very”, you add. 
“Will you help me finish too?” 
You nod, fixing your loose grip around his cock but moving it in a quite relaxed manner, slowly. 
“Are you doing this on purpose?”, he huffs. 
“No. What’s the rush?” 
“We have classes” 
“We’re already late” 
You squeeze, your strokes now steadier — not faster, but heavier — as you drag your hand up and down, earning a gratifying groan out of him. “We can skip altogether”  
“And?”, he pants, with eyes half-lidded he looks at you. Are you going to suggest what he’s thinking about too? 
“We can stay like this for a bit” — you gather your pace. “Wash up” — accelerating it more after the pause. “Have breakfast” — and some more. “And do this all over again” — and... 
Satoru opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moans low and throatily as his orgasm starts to build up. 
Was it the way you moved your hand or what you said that made him crumble so fast, he was not so sure. But it was quite the intense thing. He bucked his hips a little until every bit of drop was out, and he did so in a way that made you clench. The way he squeezed his eyes shut, nose scrunched up while he bit his lower lip, his hand gripping your waist to steady himself as he thrusted into your fist... It was way too of an arousing sight. 
He made a huge mess too. His cum sprayed all over your belly, uncontrollably. Your hand and fingers coated in it too. 
“Shit— I didn’t mean to”, he panics, jolting and rushing to grab some tissues from the nightstand, but you stop him. 
“It's okay”, you reassure him. “I think I like it”, you confess. “Next time you can cum on me intentionally” 
“There is really something wrong with your head, we should go get you checked out”, he mocks, but he hides his face in the pillow to conceal the smile stretching on his lips along with the already existing blush on his cheeks. Next time, huh?  
You stayed in for the day. Just as you suggested, you lingered in bed for a little longer, bickering back and forth, which put Satoru at ease. He was sick worried, but things were still the same between you two. Not quite as they used to be, considering last night and this morning, but you were still you. There was no tension, nor any awkwardness in the air. 
You washed up together over the bathroom sink, bumping hips as you brushed your teeth. 
He always kept a spare toothbrush for you for when you’d stay the night. He diligently changed it with a new one every now and then. Although you didn’t have any clothes over at his dorm room, he gave you his while complaining how thoughtless you were for not bringing spare clothing with you, only causing him more trouble with piling up more laundry. But he liked it, secretly. His t-shirts looked good on you, like you were his girlfriend. He didn’t have any clothes back at your room either, at first. There was no way yours would ever fit him, so he brought some and left them there. You always washed them with your clothes and they smelled like the detergent you’d always use. It made him feel like he was your boyfriend. 
Later, you had breakfast, and after that — another session of exploring your bodies. Again, you only used your hands. He sat you on the table and fingered you while you stroked his cock. 
You played some games, read manga, took a nap, ate lunch, and then you did it again. 
And again, after dinner. 
Then some more before you went to bed. 
You never kissed though, not yet. As if the kiss itself meant something entirely different in the light of what you were doing, something more intimate than masturbating each other. 
Day two and three were no different, you stayed locked in and repeated. You ate, you fucked each other with your hands, and you slept. 
Nothing changed on the fourth either, only that you ran out of food but ordered takeout. 
“Can you make it a bit spicy?”, Satoru spoke on the phone to a nearby restaurant he’d frequently order from. So frequently in fact that they knew his order by heart, and asking for the dish to be spicy was unusual of him.  
“Huh? You always make we don’t put any spice in your food? Are you sure?”, the takeout clerk gasped from the other side of the line. 
Scratching the back of his head, Satoru looked around to see if you were still in the bathroom before he spoke. “Yeah, I know. But, um— my girlfriend likes it”, he said, his face heating up with a red hue. 
You weren’t his girlfriend. Neither of you made an attempt to redefine your relationship, and he was too afraid to make the first step. What if you were simply acting out this way because you were indeed just curious?  
Either way, he wanted to say it. To say that you were his girlfriend. And it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. People would often time confuse you for a couple, and he’d never flat out deny it. You never knew about this though, it always happened behind your back. Either his friends being too nosy, or an old lady on the street telling him how good you looked together after you ran off to pet a stray cat. 
On the fifth day, some friends got a bit worried. You were gone for almost an entire week, skipping classes, so that was a given. 
suguru: wtf bro  suguru: u alive? 
satoru: yeah  satoru: more than ever 
suguru: huh 
satoru: i might have a shot with her  satoru: i'll tell u later 
suguru: with who? 
satoru: ur mom i've been pining over since i was four  satoru: be fr now  
suguru: wait  suguru: HER her??????????? 
satoru: yeah HER her 
suguru: wow it's happening? 
satoru: idk  satoru: ...kinda 
suguru: good luck bro  suguru: if you fuck it up i'll try my chance with her  suguru: so make sure u do ur best LOL 
satoru: i will beat u up and block u 
Naturally, it started to feel less awkward the more you did it. ‘Are you hard?’ or ‘Are you wet?’ being the initiating lines you were both dying to hear now, knowing well what they’d lead to. The answer was always ‘yes’, there was no denying that you were both hard and wet around each other for the most part. 
At some point you began skipping the questions, just letting your hands roam and find out. Consent was always silently present. 
Even when you weren’t being naughty with each other, it was different. You had definitely started seeing Satoru in a new light, which scared you a little bit. The way you looked at him, and the way you caught him looking at you — it wasn’t the same as it had been. There was more to it. 
On the sixth day, you tried something different.  
“My hands are tired”, you complain. 
“Let’s try something different”, Satoru proposes. 
He lies on his back, holding his cock flat against his stomach. “Hop on it” 
“What—”, your eyes pop out in shock. “I’m not ready for that, yet”, you squirm, holding your face in your palms. You were curious about intercourse, of course, but you were also scared. All the forums you scrolled through had a different take on it — some netizens said the first time was painful while others claimed they only felt a slight discomfort but nothing more. Many mentioned bleeding too. You didn’t know which category you’d fall into. And as much as you wanted it, the idea of putting Satoru’s cock inside you was quite intimidating. He was big. Will it even fit?  
Satoru chuckles. “I don’t mean that — just straddle me, sit yourself right on top of it and rock your hips back and forth” He points at his cock, “See, I am holding it down for you so it won’t enter you. You’ll just hump against the length of it and nothing more. It’ll feel good, I promise” 
You peek at him from between your fingers. “Okay”, you timidly agree. 
It was good, but short-lived. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to finish in this position because Satoru came too soon and too hard, his entire body shivering continuously. He had no idea what he was getting himself into when he proposed it but having your warmth and your slick on his cock directly from the source messed him up. It took him every ounce of restraint not to just slide it in and have his way with you. 
On the seventh day, after all the things you’d done, you finally shared your first kiss.  
It was nothing nearly romantic like it was in the books and in the movies. In fact, it kind of happened out of spite. 
It was around lunchtime. You both felt like eating pizza today, and so you ordered. In the meantime, while waiting for your food to be delivered, you hopped in the bathroom to take a quick shower. 
Satoru wanted to join you too, but you kicked him out, telling him to wait for the delivery guy. With a tail between his legs and a hangdog face he crawled back on the bed, huffing and puffing loudly so you could hear him and maybe pity him enough to invite him back... 
His brilliant performance of a sad puppy was interrupted by a knock on the door. This was quick, he thought, and jumped out of the bed, thrilled — he could pay for the food and sneak in to play with you... 
He quickly tossed on a shirt and put on some shorts on the way to get the door. 
It was not the food. 
It was his ex, standing on his doorstep with her arms crossed over her waist, eyeing him demandingly. 
“Don’t tell me you’re so heartbroken over our breakup that you would lock yourself in your room and skip classes for an entire week?”, she scoffs. 
“Did you forget who broke up with who?”, Satoru snorts. 
For sure, she did not. Satoru did it quite cruelly, over text after ghosting her for three days. It was not his proudest moment but he didn’t care enough to feel guilty over it.  
And she was fully aware of it too. But still, she liked him a lot, in fact she liked him ever since orientation and it took her an entire year to work her way to him. She was desperate. 
She sighs deeply, dropping the attitude now. “You never replied to my messages” 
“Didn’t see” 
“You did, but you left me on seen” 
“Must’ve forgotten to answer” 
His answers were short and dry. The timing was simply bad, and he wanted her out of here before you came out of the shower, concerned that her being here would create a misunderstanding in your head. 
“Look, I am sorry I said all those stuff about your friend. But it bothered me, okay? You treated her more like a girlfriend than you did me, your actual girlfriend... I was constantly under the impression that—”, before she could finish a third voice cut her off. 
“’Toru”, you yell from behind him. “Is it the food?” 
Your hair damp, a towel wrapped around your body, you saunter over to the door from behind him to peek, but your feet freeze in place. 
Oh? That girl... his ex. 
You woke up happy this morning, in fact you woke up happy every morning for the past seven days but now your mood was foul all of a sudden. That same odd feeling you’d get whenever you thought of Satoru with another girl creeped in in your chest. While you brushed it off easily in the past, you couldn’t quite do so now. The irritation grew more insistent. Your demons were threatening to act up. 
“...there was something going on between you”, the girl finishes her sentence, then pauses to let out a short laugh and shake her head in disbelief before she continues. “I guess my hunch was right, huh?” 
You step a little closer, standing right next to Satoru. 
Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on came over you. Of course, you could read the room — she obviously came here to mend things up. And you were not happy about it. Not in the slightest. Was this annoying feeling tugging at your chest called jealousy? You didn’t have a reason to hate this girl, she did nothing to you. Yet... 
“Well, well. Aren’t you a smart one?” — you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth right now but you didn’t have it in you to stop.  
Utterly amused, Satoru stared at you. He was shocked, in a pleasingly new way. A semblance of an idiotic smile plastered on his lips while he did nothing to stop you. 
“Should I perhaps solidify your hunch with a proof so you stop running after someone else’s boyfriend?”, you glare at her. 
Standing on your toes, you clutch a handful of Satoru’s shirt with both hands, pulling him down to the level of your face for your lips to reach his, and kiss him. 
Helpless in the face of your lips laid against his, he lets out an audible gasp. The sound of it vibrating against your mouth. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thinks, but his eyes close anyway, melting into the softness of your lips. There was no tongue, just a long peck, and he couldn’t help but smile into it. 
Without breaking the kiss, you look at the girl from the corner of your eye, and you slam the door in her face. 
“Good riddance”, you murmur after pulling away from Satoru, and walk back inside. 
He never knew that a simple kiss like this could make him so dizzy that he would lose his balance and stumble. As if his feet got caught in something he involuntarily took a few sharp steps forward, putting his arms out to steady himself and avoid falling face down. 
“Hey”, he called out, slowly following behind you. 
“What’s her deal anyway?”, you keep going at it, still beyond irritated. “Didn’t you guys break up?” 
“Hey”, he speaks again, stepping closer. 
“And she's pestering you like this? The audacity...” 
“Hey—” 
“What!”, you yell, turning around to give him a scolding too because, knowing him, he probably didn’t end things with her in a manner that was polite and proper.  
...but he was right behind you, smiling at you affectionately with his eyes. It made your breath hitch, and your chest — feel a bit peculiar. 
“Hey”, he repeats again, softly. His hands squish your cheeks inside his palms and he slowly cranes his neck down. “Did you mean it?”, he asks through a whisper. 
You shift your gaze to the side, avoiding to look at him directly. “Did I mean what?”, you puff. 
“Calling me your boyfriend”, he tilts his head to the side, blocking your view and forcing you to look at him. 
“No... I was just saving your ass” — you try to break free to prevent the heat on your cheeks from warming the skin of his palms, from giving you away. But he’s holding you still. 
He leans in closer and whispers, “Would it be so bad if I was your boyfriend?” 
It was not a question as much it was a plea. Let me. 
“You’re a bit of a jerk sometimes, so maybe? I know for sure people will judge me for my poor taste” 
“Your mom won’t, she likes me”, he points out, proudly. 
“She likes you more than she likes me, her own daughter, so her opinion is invalid. In fact, she would tell you to go pick someone better”, you snort, and he laughs. She really did love him like her own son. After all, he grew up in her hands along with you. You spent day and night together, in and out of each other’s houses. 
“I am serious”, he gives a gentle squeeze around your face, an attempt to snap you out of the ongoing banter because he was desperate to know. You didn’t give him a proper answer, but you didn’t reject him either — there was still hope, he thought. “Would you hate it?” 
“...I don’t know”, you let out quietly, conflicted. 
“Should we try? Or are you only curious about my body?” 
“See? You’re kind of a jerk after all”, you pout. “Will things change... between us?” 
“Aren’t they already changing?”, he smiles. 
You hum, softly tugging at the hem of his shirt with both of your hands. "I don't want to lose my best friend if we screw this up” 
“Same”, he nuzzles his face closer. “That’s why, we won’t screw this up”, he quietly chants into you like a promise, drawing his lips to yours tenderly before either of you have the chance to panic any further about the implications of this change. 
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xxsabitoxx · 1 year ago
Text
Breed | Kinktober
Satoru x AFAB Reader + Higher Up Suguru
Warnings: Mild dub-con, fucking with the intent of getting pregnant, creampies, pussy eating, voyeurism, drunk sex, use of pet name "princess", Satoru talking you through it, Satoru having a big ass cock ngl hehe, biting
A/N: Day 4... I got really carried away. Lordy lordy... enjoy
WORD COUNT: 6.2K
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You swore you didn’t hear him right, your eyebrow cocking upwards as you opened your mouth to say something but Satoru beat you to it. “You want us to do what?” he sounded just as lost as you, face twisted in a grimace as he hoped his best friend would say it was nothing more than a sick joke. “I want the two of you to breed.” Suguru repeated with his easy going smile, eyes shifting between the two very concerned faces before him. 
Ever since becoming a higher up in the Jujutsu world, Suguru had started to change. 
“You… you’re joking, right?” You laughed a bit, eyes shifting to the white-haired man beside you to try and see how he was taking it. Sure enough, Satoru looked completely confused, blue eyes scanning his best friend’s face for some kind of inkling that this was all a prank. “I’m not joking, quite the contrary, I’m dead serious.” Still though, he was smiling, completely unphased. “Yeah, bull shit… I don’t know why you’d think it’s okay to make such a–”
“The higher ups and I have been discussing things. Since the two of you are undoubtedly the strongest of our generation, we want you two to produce children. We want to know if you’ll create sorcerers just as strong, if not stronger than the two of you.” You felt yourself stiffen, immediately off put that he had totally interrupted you to spout the most foul shit you’d ever heard. “We aren’t some fucking experiment.” Satoru stated blandly, arms coming up to splay across the back of the couch you two were sitting on. Suguru still seemed unphased. 
“I don’t see why you two wouldn’t accept the offer.” You gasped, feeling Satoru stiffen beside you as Suguru said such blatantly ignorant shit. “Why wouldn't we accept? We aren’t even a couple! Never mind the fact that you want him to breed me like I’m some bitch in heat?!” you practically screeched, still partially believing this was a sick joke. Suguru’s smile faltered a little now, a crack in his facade that sent a shiver straight down your spine. “You two would be wise to accept the offer. I’m giving you a choice. The rest of the higher ups would not.” 
“You’re not giving us a choice.” You immediately countered, mildly aware that Satoru’s arm was lowering a bit, as if to wrap around you protectively. “Oh but I am, dear y/n.” His hands clasped in front of him, that smile creeping back up his face as his eyes shut. You both shared a glance, eyes returning to Suguru as he exhaled and opened his eyes again. “Either the two of you fuck and let me watch, or the higher ups will sit in and watch you instead. I’m giving you the choice to do this comfortably or do this in front of many watching eyes.”
“I decline both options.” Satoru said with an air of annoyance, not willing to subject you to anything you didn’t want. “That is not an option, Satoru.” Suguru immediately countered, eyes shifting over to you. “Really what is the harm in this? You two can have some fun and then go on with your lives.” Suguru tried again, not grasping how this was a huge deal. “You want me to get her pregnant, Suguru. That is not something you can just move on from.” You remained quiet, still reeling from the fact that Suguru was dead serious. “Not only that but you are looking me dead in the eye and telling me this hypothetical child would be at the whim of the higher ups.”
Suguru knew how strongly Satoru felt about this matter, he had since their high school days. For the man across from you to be so blindly devoted to this inhumane experiment, he must have been brainwashed. “Suguru… did they threaten you or something?” Your voice was a little weaker now, Suguru may think the two of you only have two options, but you knew Satoru well enough to know a third. If it came down to life or death, Satoru would choose death. Not of you or himself, but of the hierarchy in the Jujutsu world. You were both strong enough to do it. 
“Not at all, dear y/n. I just think this would be highly beneficial for not only the two of you but the rest of the jujutsu society. The Gojo clan needs an heir, if you two were to produce a child, it would bind both the Y/L/N clan and Gojo clan together. It would be utterly unstoppable with the two of you at their heads, a perfect child to take the reins when that time comes…” Satoru made a fake gagging sound, lifting his blindfold with one finger to look at Suguru. “Don’t tell me you really believe all that bull shit they’ve been feeding you.” Suguru’s calm aura faded completely at that, smile dropping from his face as his eyes became cold. 
“Either we do it the easy way or the hard way. You fuck each other, or they’ll force it upon you. I, as your friend, implore you two to take the easy route. I mean really, even if she doesn’t get pregnant, at least you’ll have had a good time, no?” That clicked something in your mind, body straightening a bit as you mulled his words over in your mind. “I’m not going to fuck someone who isn’t willing, Suguru.” Satoru sounded completely uninterested now, letting the blindfold snap back into place as you sat up a little more. “Satoru…” you started, turning your body to face him. His head snapped in your direction, the tone of your voice was different. 
Knowing he could still see you with the blindfold on, you turned your body and pressed yourself a little closer. Carefully, you brought your lips to his ear, using one hand to hide your mouth so Suguru couldn’t read your lips. “Why don’t we just play along, Satoru?” You swallowed, face feeling a bit warm as you settled again so he could reply. Much to your surprise, he turned his body so he could lean and whisper against your ear. You half expected him to just blurt his answer out. You held your breath as Satoru’s breath ghosted your ear, large hand easily blocking his face from Suguru’s view. “I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” 
You sigh, letting him move away so you can press your lips to his ear again. “I’m fine with it, we can have fun with each other, can’t we?” you pulled away, shrugging your shoulders to say the decision was his. Satoru huffed out a laugh, one arm still draped over the back of the couch as he used the other to pull at his blindfold again. “Suguru, name a time and a place. We’ll entertain your request.” Your heart skipped, trying to remain composed as Suguru gave the two of you a sly smirk. “I’m glad you’ve made the right choice, we have a few things to discuss before we decide those main factors I’m afraid.” Still, he seemed thrilled at the thought. 
“Then discuss them now, Suguru. If we are doing this, you need to act fast before we change our mind.” you appreciated that Satoru was now speaking for the both of you. It was giving you time to properly sort out your thoughts. “No need for such hostility, Satoru. I just want to figure out when the best time is for dear y/n. After all, she needs to be ovulating when you do this.” You stifled your shudder, you weren’t fond of being discussed like some dog that was about to be bred for his own personal gain. “I’m due to get my period in about two weeks time.” 
You were lying, your cycle had just passed. But you knew if you told him you were currently in your ovulation period, the sooner this could be done and over with. “Well would you look at that, I came to you at the right time.” Suguru smiled, clearly he had done a little research beforehand. Beside you, Satoru was visibly confused, clearly having no understanding of a woman’s cycle. Not that you really expected him to in the first place, but you had to admit it was a bit amusing. “If that is the case, Suguru. Why don’t we get this over with, here and now?” you drawled, falling back into the couch and subsequently, Satoru’s arm. 
“That works for me, does it work for you, Satoru?” You and Suguru were both looking at him now, a sigh leaving his plump lips before speaking. “Yeah, works for me.” Somewhere in the back of his mind he couldn’t quite believe you were willing to do this, especially after being so adamant about not wanting to. Something Suguru had said clearly convinced you, though he couldn’t be quite sure. “That settles it then, I’ll treat the two of you to drinks for accepting my offer.” You snorted, pushing yourself up and off the couch. “I expect a lot more than drinks, Suguru.” you patted your skirt, flattening any wrinkles that had formed while sitting. 
“Dinner and sweets!” Satoru added, standing to his full height and stretching dramatically. “What he said, Suguru. You owe us big time.” You crossed your arms, watching your long time friend look between the two of you before heaving a sigh. “Alright, fine. Dinner, drinks and sweets.” Satoru cheered triumphantly, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you headed out the door. “Only one drink for Satoru though, he’s a lightweight and needs to perform.” you couldn’t help but snicker, Satoru’s face turning a shade of red as he yelled at Suguru for saying such things. 
“It’s the truth and you know it, Satoru.” was all you managed, trying your best to keep up with the pace his lengthy legs set. “Who’s side are you on?!” he pulled you a little closer, nearly crushing you to his side. “I guess I should be on yours, shouldn’t I?” you teased, trying to ignore the new found flurry in your heart when you talked to him. But part of you couldn’t help but wonder, did he feel it too. Of course you would let your emotions start to toy with your mind, knowing full and well what would happen within a few hours time. 
“S-shit… oh fuck…” Satoru choked out, blindfold pushed back and sitting on his head like a headband. Your teeth were sinking into the junction between his neck and shoulder, making his hips jerk up against yours. Suguru had cut Satoru off after one drink, the white-hair man getting more than tipsy off of it because of his low tolerance. You, on the other hand, had been three drinks in when Suguru cut you off. Having a better tolerance than Satoru did not equate to you being any less sloppy. Suguru was quickly learning that, eyes wide as he watched the two of you make out on the couch within the hotel room he had rented for the night. 
You hadn’t even made it to the bed, your hands all over each other the moment he swiped the card and the door unlocked. Needless to say, Suguru didn’t think he would be in for such a ride. “E-easy! Fuck… y/n please!” Satoru whimpered, fingers digging into the flesh on your hips as you bit a little harder. You wanted to taste blood, desperate to leave a permanent mark on the man below you. Though, even in your intoxicated state you still had a heart. You eased up, lapping at the indents on his skin to try and soothe the damage. Satoru’s hips were restless, bucking into yours every few seconds. Each time your clothed cunt met his covered erection, a wave of molten heat spread through your already too hot body. 
Behind the two of you, Suguru was getting comfortable in the plush chair that sat in the corner of the room. He had only consumed one drink, a buzz settling under his skin but not impairing him enough to let you two have free reign. “Don’t you dare waste a drop of his cum, if you’re going to grind on each other like horny teenagers, at least strip.” You audibly whined, looking over your shoulder to glare at Suguru. Though it wasn’t threatening at all, you looked like a child trying to intimidate an adult. “You heard me.” was all Suguru responded with, his tone demeaning as your face flushed. Satoru took your distraction as the perfect opportunity
You gasped, body falling forward against his as his fingers dug into your thighs. Hauling you up, Satoru made quick work of tossing you on the queen size bed, the white sheets quickly crumpling as you fell onto it. “You heard him, strip.” Satoru’s voice was mocking, and yet he was quickly undoing the top half of his uniform. You rolled your eyes, clearly disgruntled by your dominance being stripped from you. But you couldn’t complain, your skin was prickling with sweat, your own uniform sticking to you uncomfortably. Your fingers fumbled a bit as you undid your top, shouldering it off after a moment with Satoru’s eyes glued to you. 
“You need help?” he breathed out, looking at the fabric of your bra hugging your breasts perfectly. “No, I’m fine…” always stubborn, you undid the button on your wrist and yanked your arm out, repeating the motion on your other arm with a little struggle. “Done yet?” Satoru’s knee sunk into the mattress, hands coming down to press into the linen as he waited for your “okay” to crawl on top of you. “Yeah, done.” you groaned, tossing the white button up at Suguru who managed to catch it. Maybe your reflexes really were slowing down from the booze. Satoru sighed, crawling fully onto the mattress and connecting his lips with yours. 
Your hands came up to wrap around the back of his neck, legs spreading to accommodate him as you slowly laid back. You had to groan into the kiss, Satoru’s teeth grazing your lower lip for entrance only made you feel more defiant. You were slightly pissed he had moved so fast, you hadn’t even gotten the change to admire his toned torso. Which was something you had been most looking forward to, you knew the man was built but he was always hiding it under his uniform or baggy clothing. One of Satoru’s hands was splayed by your head, supporting him so he didn’t crush you under his weight. The other hand was cupping your cheek, trying to coax your stubborn jaw open for him. Still, you were managing to resist. 
“Such a tease, y/n.” Suguru cooed from his spot, hand shamelessly adjusting his half-hard cock. Of course he’d enjoy this, how could he not? Satoru pulled away, gasping as you stared up at him. “She is, won’t open that pretty mouth for me… so cruel.” he whined, cheeks flushed pink as he dipped his head lower to return the favor you had paid him earlier. This time, it was your turn to gasp, fingers digging into the back of his neck since there was no hair to grab… curse him and his undercut. Satoru’s teeth were sinking into the same point on your body, making a mark that would match the already bruising bite you left behind on him. “F-fuck! Satoru!” 
Your eyes shut, the warm pain blooming on your neck was only making the throb between your legs worsen. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be a masochist and a sadist at the same time.” Suguru mused, watching your eyes open slowly, head turning to glare at him. Still, he only smirked, fist pressed into his cheek as his other hand now began palming himself. You looked away, skin vibrating with the realization that Suguru was also getting off on this. “Satoru… ease up!” you whined after a moment, the feeling nearly dizzying as he finally released the skin he had clamped down on. Perfect teeth indents were left behind, the slight swell of blood appearing in some of them. He swallowed, throat dry at the sight. 
“So pretty…” he murmured, head lowering to lap at the mark before trailing his lips up your neck and jaw. “Let me taste you this time, please?” you nodded, dazed as he slotted his lips over yours once more. You were a little easier on him now, mouth opening to accommodate his eager tongue. You shivered as you tasted the slight metallic blood mixing with the fruity cocktail he had consumed earlier. You were envious, he had managed to break your skin but you hadn’t been able to break his. No fair! Your fingers scratched at his skin the more you thought about it, pressing your head into the mattress to create a little distance so you could catch your breath.
“Please…” you gasped out, unsure of what you were asking him for. Yet, he seemed to understand perfectly. Satoru placed one last kiss to your slightly swollen lips before his head dipped lower. Carefully, he kissed down your neck to your chest, burying his face in your sternum, cradled by your breasts. “Can I take this off of you?” He asked even though he knew the answer was yes, still you nodded. Satoru’s hand slipped around your back, the other still supporting himself. You helped by rolling over a bit, allowing him to nimbly undo the clasp of your bra. He tugged it off of you, holding in a shaky breath as he admired your bare skin. Your nipples were pebbling under the cool air of the room, making your cheeks feel warm as Satoru clearly observed them. 
No words were spoken as his head lowered again, tongue running along the valley between your breasts before making the decision to go left. You tried to suppress your noises as his nose dragged along your skin, his tongue leaving a wet trail as he lapped around the pliant skin. He made a point to avoid your nipple, wanting to tease you until you were squirming. You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, not willing to give in so easily, still annoyed you were being dominated. “C’mon sweetheart, let me hear that pretty voice.” Satoru pulled away enough to speak, chlorine blue eyes shining even in the dim hotel light. You held his gaze for only a moment before looking away, lips wobbling as he returned to sucking bruises on your breast. 
A quiet, barely audible sigh left your lips, and that seemed to be enough for Satoru. A loud gasp slipped out of you as his lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue flicking across the sensitive bud before he sucked. It was a dizzying feeling, each movement sending a shockwave of pleasure straight down to your cunt. You wanted to feel him, every single inch, that realization tore a moan from your lips as your fingers moved from his neck to thread in his hair. “Satoru… I don’t want to be teased…” You could feel your panties sticking to your cunt as you squirmed, the feeling mildly uncomfortable until you found the right angle. If you moved just right, you could brush against his erection. 
This earned a low groan from Satoru, his teeth grazing your nipple in retaliation. Suguru was still watching, amused as the two of you toyed with one another. “Satoru please!” you cried out again as his teeth actually sunk into the tender flesh, making your eyes water as you tugged on his hair hard enough to pull his head away. The only issue was that he didn't let go, you tugging him away from your chest only caused him to pull at your nipple. A shrill cry left your lips this time, hands immediately letting his hair go as his head lowered to a more tolerable distance. You were panting, your heartbeat racing as Satoru’s free hand moved to cup your other breast. 
He was putting all of his weight on his knees, but that didn’t stop you from feeling the brunt of his weight. “Satoru…” you tried again as he finally let go of your nipple. Still, he didn’t answer you, slim fingers tugging on your other nipple as his eyes focused on yours. You looked completely fucked out already, pupils blown and eyelids heavy as you stared up at him. “Gonna fuck you real good, princess.” Your lips parted at the nickname, not expecting it to have such an effect on you. “Then get to it.” you whined, missing his warmth the moment he straightened. He was towering over you know, giving you a full shot of his muscular torso. 
“Can I take your skirt off?” he asked for your permission yet again, eyes shifting to where his blindfold sat by the pillows. It had slipped off his head when he took his uniform off, but he had the intention of using it for something else later on. “You can, please…” breathless, your hips lifted so he could hook his fingers in the waistband and tug them off of you. Satoru did just as you wanted, pulling your skirt and panties off in one go. You sighed in relief, not at all embarrassed this time when Satoru shamelessly admired your bare cunt. “Pretty.” It was more to himself than you, either way it made you whine. 
“I want to see you, Satoru.” You whined, arms reaching out to try and grab for his waistband. Your hands missed, making you burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to push yourself up. Satoru smirked, undoing his pants with leisure as he looked you over. “You were doing so good at hiding the fact you’re not sober.” He comments, watching you give up and flop back onto the bed with your legs spread around him. He had managed to get his pants off without making a fool of himself. As for his briefs, they were still hugging his hips, straining tightly as his hard-on pressed into the soft material. Behind you, Suguru was chuckling at Satoru’s comment. 
“Yeah, you’re just as bad as she is if you think she was hiding her intoxication.” Still, he was mildly impressed that Satoru had stripped as far as he had without falling over. “Hurry up and pull your cock out.” you groaned, tired of the men’s banter. There was a time and place and it wasn’t now, when your cunt was aching with the desire to be filled up. “Fuck…” Satoru hissed at your words, reaching down to push his briefs, ignoring the way Suguru groaned at your desperation. You swallowed the moment his cock sprang free, slapping up against his abdomen and nearly pulling the air from your lungs. He was big to say the least. Not only that, he was girthy, the kind of girth that would hurt no matter how prepared you were. 
“Damn…” was all you managed to croak, lip trembling a bit as he got his briefs off the rest of the way. Satoru smirked, your reaction stroking his ego in perfect time with his fist stroking his cock. You met his gaze, silently begging him to do something. Satoru took the initiative, grabbing under your knees and pushing you further up into the mattress. “Don’t work, I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt…” You wanted to ask what he was about to do, but your answer came seconds later as he lowered himself onto his stomach, half of his body hanging off the bed as he settled between your spread thighs. You tried to suppress the strangled noise that left your throat as Satoru’s nose dragged along your inner thighs, shamelessly inhaling the smell of your arousal. 
“S-satoru!” you squealed, hands coming up to cover your face as he groaned. “You smell so fucking good.” You whined, thighs twitching to close around his head but his hands managed to stop you before you could successfully do it. Your head tilted back, too embarrassed to look down at your body and see Satoru start kissing your inner thighs. Suguru watched with dilated pupils, adjusting himself yet again in order to properly monitor the two of you. If he gave into his desires, who knows what the two of you would do. So instead, he sunk his teeth into the side of his cheek and watched you diligently. “Satoru~” you whined as his tongue licked up your folds, not going any further, just covering them in the slick shine of his saliva. 
Your back arched off the mattress the moment his teeth sunk into the underside of your thigh, pain blossoming under the pressure and earning a shrill cry from your lips. It was so sudden that it was nearly dizzying, earning breathless whimpers as he lapped at the now bruising skin. “Sorry…” though you could tell he wasn’t “… you’re just so biteable.” You wanted to scold him but you were too lost in the sensation of his mouth returning to your cunt, letting them fall open for him with ease to give him the access he desired.  The first time Satoru’s tongue passed over your clit, you were certain stars were dotting your vision. He knew better than to poke and prod anywhere else, focusing every ounce of his attention on the pulsing bud below his tongue. 
You felt your thighs tremble, hands twisting in the sheets as you tried to suppress the surplus of whiny moans that slipped out of you. Satoru’s tongue was just as nimble as his fingers, swiping across the sensitive flesh in rapid succession before his lips wrapped around it. You tugged a little harder, the sheets going taut under your fingers as Satoru sucked on your clit just as he had with your nipple. “Fuck… oh fuck… please… just like that… suck it like t-that…” Somewhere in the back of your mind you were mortified for uttering such things, but you couldn’t help but notice the coil in your abdomen tightening with each syllable you spoke. 
It seemed to have a similar effect on Satoru, the man groaning audibly against your bare cunt as his teeth grazed the tender flesh. “S-satoru!” you stuttered out, stomach tightening as his teeth sent a bolt of electricity straight up your spine. The only give away that he heard you was the way his fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs. You were already close, too overwhelmed by the sensations Satoru bestowed on you. Satoru could tell by the way your sticky arousal was coating his chin each time he grinded his own face into your cunt. He wanted to suffocate on you, dying by your pussy would easily be the best way to go. 
The thought made his hips buck into nothing, mind drowning in the thoughts of shoving his cock into you and doing just as he so boldly refused only a few hours earlier… pumping you full of his cum so you would bear his child. He wanted to utter the filthiest things to you but he knew if he paused for even a moment, that sweet relief you were clearly craving would fizzle away and you’d be back at square one. And at this point, anything that further delayed him delving into your warm cunt felt like pure torture. One of your hands managed to uncurl itself from the hotel sheets, reaching down to instead thread through Satoru’s silky soft white strands. 
You tugged, albeit a little harder than you probably intended, and smothered his face even harder into your cunt. Satoru audibly whimpered at the pain of your tugging, only sending your stomach into a summersault as your orgasm dangled dangerously in front of you. “Satoru please!” you wailed, head tossing back again to make contact with a clearly turned on Suguru. “Go on, Satoru, you heard her, make her cum.” he encouraged with a shaky voice, his tone a lot more wobbly than it had been all night. That made you moan even louder, knowing how visibly turned on he was by this whole thing… and to think you had been so against it at first. 
Satoru grumbled something but it was muffled by your cunt, sending vibrations straight through your core. It didn’t take much more than that, his tongue licking so eagerly at your clit had you spilling all over his face. Your ears ring with the force of your orgasm, Satoru’s touches turning light enough to work you through it without overstimulating you. As much as Satoru wanted to lap up every ounce of your release, he knew he needed you to be sloppy to be able to take him. So, reluctantly, after a few chaste kisses to your now puffy clit, he pulled away. “Do you need a break?” he spoke with a slight pant, face flushed and shiny from his own sweat and your arousal. 
“No… fuck no. Please, Satoru, I want you inside of me.” He couldn’t deny that request, judging by the groan Suguru let out, he wouldn’t deny it either. “Alright.. Fuck alright…” Satoru was getting back on the bed fully, grabbing your ankles and lifting them. You had no time to even squeal in protest before Satoru was folding you into a mating press. “Y-you haven’t even entered me yet…” you wheezed, your knees nearly touching your breasts as the over six foot man settled more of his weight onto you. “Shh don’t worry princess, this will be worth it.” any protest died on your lips, the nickname of his choosing made your body feel warm all over. 
Satoru got himself as comfortable as he could, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to truly settle until he pushed his way inside of you. Ever aware of his size, Satoru ran the slightly swollen head of his cock between your puffy folds, letting your arousal cover him. He held his breath, too enthralled by the way yours caught in your throat each time he bumped your clit. “It’ll hurt a bit at first but it’ll ease up pretty quick, okay?” His alcohol was wearing off but it was no match for his pussy drunk daze. Still, he was going to walk you through each thing he did, blue eyes sparkling with tender reassurance. You nodded, chewing on your lower lip as he positioned his head at your entrance. “Just relax, princess…” 
You nodded, inhaling deeply before slowly letting it out. Satoru timed your breathing with his movements, pressing into you as you exhaled. Your breathing stuttered just a bit as the bulbous head of his cock split you open, stretching you wide and making you flinch. Satoru stopped, whispering soft praises before he kept his hips moving. “It’ll be more uncomfortable if I just stay in place, let me bottom out.” You nodded, your hands holding onto the backs of your thighs as Satoru kept pushing his length into you. When he noticed tears starting to shine in your eyes, he cooed soft reassurance to you, ignoring how his cock was pulsating between your fluttering walls. “I’m almost all the way in, the worst part is almost over.” He smiled a bit, thumb brushing your knee where he held it. You couldn’t recall ever being with a man that had a dick this big. 
“Rub her clit, Satoru. That will help ease any of her discomfort.” Suguru chimed, hand blatantly palming his erection as he greedily observed. “Good thinking.” Satoru hummed, the hand he had been using to guide himself into you now moved to rub gentle circles on your clit. Stars exploded in your vision as the uncomfortable stretch turned into blinding pleasure. Your walls clamped down around him, earning a barely audible whimper between his endless praises. “Yo-you’re taking me so well, I’m sorry it’s so big… oh fuck you’re doing so good f’me princess.” Satoru whined, bottoming out as he tried to regain his bearing before fucking into you. It was nearly impossible to stay still, but the last thing he wanted was to hurt you in this way. He would later argue that the bite marks you bestowed on one another were different from this. 
“Are you okay?” He breathed out, looking at you with lidded eyes and parted lips, making your heart stutter in your chest as you nodded on autopilot. Satoru smiled, settling his body onto you better and really solidifying the mating press he had maneuvered you into. “I’m gonna start moving, princess. Just tell me if I get too rough…” his arms hooked under your knees, forcing your legs wider and further up as he found himself a good position to roll his hips into you. Your hands shakily reached up to rest on his shoulders, shivering as Satoru’s head came to bury in the crook of your neck. Even from Suguru’s perspective, he couldn’t tell where you started and Satoru ended, completely engulfed in one another as Satoru began to find his rhythm. 
Your hands quickly turned from resting to grabbing, breathless whines leaving your lips as Satoru’s cock dragged in and out of your already sensitive cunt. He felt heavy and warm despite being enveloped in your suffocating heat. You could feel the slight upward curve every time he passed over one particular spot, it wasn’t long before a slick squelch emitted from where your bodies connected. “Oh fuck… oh fuck…” Satoru whimpered against your neck, losing himself in the slipper embrace of your cunt. “So good.. Fuck you feel so good… you’re so wet…” he nearly sobbed into your neck, drunk off of your body as his hips relentlessly fucked into you. “Gonna fill you up so good, princess. Fuck so–so fucking good.” he continued to blabber, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as pleasure racked his body over and over. 
You were too far gone to respond to anything, loud moans falling from your lips as you tried to convey how he was making you feel. Each connection had Satoru’s balls slapping against your ass, earning a low whimper into the crook of your neck, right over where he had bitten you. “Make sure you tell me when you’re cumming, Satoru.” Suguru spoke in a slightly raised tone, between the noises you were both making and the noises your bodies made each time he slammed into you, Suguru needed to be sure he was heard. Satoru only lifted his head a bit to mumble a “sure”, vision blurry as he sloppily slotted his lips over yours. The kiss was nothing short of a mess, tongues and breathless pants colliding as drool seeped down the sides of your mouth. Your abdomen was tightening again, an orgasm prickling in your gut as Satoru’s pubic bone managed to rub your cunt with each messy thrust. 
“Gonna cum… ‘toru…” You slurred, this time your impending orgasm felt a little more relaxed,  a warmth spreading through you as Satoru hovered over you. He was studying your face intently, lips a pretty shade of pink and slightly swollen from your kisses. He was close too, but his ability to speak seemed to be robbed by the way your cunt clenched around him. No words could get past his lips, nevermind form in his brain. Satoru’s hips bucked into you a little harder, your whole body shaking with the force of his blows before finally, he was stuttering into you with a loud groan. Your own orgasm hit you shortly after, making your body quiver as Satoru spilled his seed into you. His hips were rocking still, fucking his load deep into your awaiting womb. “So… fuck take it all… take every last drop, Princess…” he had given up on making sense, half of his words stumbling over the other as you tried to remember how to breathe. 
The room finally fell silent, Satoru’s body was still mildly restless as his hips slowly grinded into you. “Well done, you two.” Suguru’s voice earned a groan from the two of you, in your post-orgasm haze, you had forgotten he was there. “You can relax for a few minutes but you’ll have to start round two soon… oh, and Satoru? Don’t you dare pull out of her, keep every drop inside.” Satoru’s body nearly collapsed on you fully at that. “Round two?” He rasped out, limbs feeling like pure jello. “Yes, round two. We have to be thorough. If this doesn't work, we’ll have to keep trying until it's successful.” Suguru was once again displaying a nonchalant behavior regarding the whole thing. “Fine by me.” you slurred out before Satoru could even complain, clarity hitting him like a freight train until you uttered your approval. 
If you were okay with it, then so was Satoru. He didn’t think he’d be able to give up a cunt like yours after tonight, whether it was part of Suguru’s breeding plan or not. “Alright then, whatever you want, you get.” Satoru murmured, lowering again to kiss you tenderly.
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