#he sure has had a busy year
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Yibo Official Weibo update 2.8.2024 (part 4 of 6) Welcome to play UNIQ-Wang Yibo’s key frames of the year. Recall frame by frame, wonderful and colorful. Indulge in the beautiful changes of light and shadow, enjoy expressing your true self in music, explore the unknown in different fields, and progress in life. Keyframes are drawn one by one on the strip. In 2023, you will be rewarded with diligent study and hard work, and in 2024, we will embark on a new journey with steady steps! A new chapter is about to begin. I wish you all to move forward in the Year of the Dragon, and be happy and prosperous!
Part 4 Live Events
Accumulate strength and move forward, the stars are shining brightly Forge ahead with determination and unremitting ambition. Focus and shine and gain recognition

【Movie Roadshow】
Anonymous (top left to right)
·Shanghai press conference of the movie "Anonymous"·
·Beijing Press Conference of the Movie "Anonymous"·
·Movie "Anonymous" Shanghai Roadshow·
·Movie "Anonymous" Guangzhou Roadshow,
·Movie "Anonymous" Wuhan Roadshow·
·Movie "Anonymous" road show in Suzhou and Wuxi
·Movie "Anonymous" Ningbo Roadshow·

"Born to Fly" (top left to right)
·Beijing premiere of the movie "Born to Fly"·
·Shanghai premiere of the movie "Born to Fly"·
Screening of the closing film of the Beijing International Film Festival
Southern War Zone Special Screening Event
Rocket Force Command Academy Station Road Show, Air Force Airborne Force Station Road Show

"One and Only" (top left to right)
·Global Surprise Party for the Movie "One and Only"·
·World premiere of the movie "One and Only"·
·Movie "One and Only" Beijing Roadshow·
·Movie "One and Only" Hangzhou Roadshow·
·Movie "One and Only" Yueyang Road Show·
·Thailand premiere of the movie "One and Only"·

Events (top left to right)
·2023 Dragon TV Spring Festival Gala, Singing the theme song of the same name from the movie "Anonymous"
·2022 Weibo Night·
·The 13th Beijing International Film Festival· Closing Ceremony
The 18th and 19th China Film Huabiao Awards Ceremony·
·Wang Yibo Chunzhen brand meeting.
·2023 Douyin Movie Adventure Night·

·2023 Weibo Movie Night·
·The 20th Movie Channel Media Attention Unit·closing ceremony
· Closing Ceremony of the 25th Shanghai International Film Festival
·Moncler Moncler Shanghai Hang Lung Flagship Store Opening Ceremony
·2023 Bay Area Rising Moon Greater Bay Area Film and Music Gala, singing the theme song of the same name from the movie "Unknown"
"Infinite Style" ·2023 Shu Uemura Professional Makeup Competition·

·Yuehua 2023 Family Concert joined with "Exclamation Mark" to perform the stage
·The 36th China Film Golden Rooster Awards Nominee Recognition Ceremony
·The 36th China Film Golden Rooster Awards Closing Ceremony
·2023 iQiyi Scream Night·
·Redmi 10th Anniversary and K70 Series New product launch
·GQMOTY Annual Personality Ceremony·

·2023 Tencent Video Starlight Awards·
Participated in singing·2024 Cross-Strait New Year's Eve·Song "Tomorrow Will Be Better"
·Set Sail 2024 China Central Radio and Television·New Year's Eve Party Singing "Dragon"
·2023-2024 Hunan Satellite TV Mango TV New Year’s Eve Party, Singing "The Song That Never Ends" and "Bystander"
·2023 Weibo Night·
·"This is Street Dance" Season 6 Finals·

Go far with practice and persevere every moment. Every brief moment merges into a rich present
Link here for parts 1-3
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lonely
[ID: A limited palette of green and pink, Vashwood comic. The first page serves as a prologue. The first panel shows Vash speaking to someone off screen while Wolfwood is lingering behind him. A black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the second panel, Vash is buying donuts in the distance while Wolfwood is once again in view, lingering. and the black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the third panel, Vash is leaving a cubicle and turning towards his right with a slightly peeved expression. He sees Wolfwood, leaning against the cubicle, waiting for him, and with the black arrow drawn, pointing at him, implicating the consistent hovering of Wolfwood’s presence during Vash’s everyday. At the bottom of the page, they’re drawn out of panel with Vash turning to Wolfwood and saying with an irritated expression, “You’re really following me everywhere, huh?” Wolfwood responds, “What, you got a problem?” Vash responds without hesitation, “Yeah, kinda...”
The second page starts with a new day. In the first panel, Vash is seen alone, weighing apples in his hands at a mart, with crowds passing behind him. In the second panel, he turns to his right and starts to say, “Hey, Wolfwood...” In the third panel, he’s startled from seeing a stranger, whom he’d accidentally called out to when he was expecting to see Wolfwood. He says, “Oh, you’re not him. Sorry!” In the fourth panel, the stranger walks off and Vash muses, “Right, he said he had something to do today...”
The third page begins with a close up of Vash's miffed expression, the continuation of Vash's thoughts, "Now that he's not here, this is just like how I used to be, but... It feels lonely somehow. Oh well, I'll see him again tonight, like always." In the second panel, it shows Vash walking through the marketplace crowd, alone. In the third panel, the door panel is a close up of the door opening with a peek of Vash's head. He says, "Wolfwood!" In the fourth panel, Vash is holding a bag of food with a bright smile and says, "Are you hungry? I got you something to eat today!"
The fourth page begins with a shot of the room, two beds being highlighted, one of them being made properly with the blanket draped over the bed and the other with the blanket folded and pillow sitting on top of it. There's no sign of Wolfwood. The second panel shows Vash with a disappointed look as he thinks, "He's still not here?" The third panel shows Vash putting the bag of food on the table. Stapled to the paper bag is the receipt with a written note "For Wolfwood." Vash's thoughts continue "He does like to stay out so, I guess there's no reason to worry..." The fourth panel shows Vash sitting his bed somberly with his thoughts continued, "It's not any of my business anyway..."
The fifth page starts with a close up his blank expression as he looks downwards, thinking, "Even if he left completely... That'd be understandable and better for him. I'll just travel alone again... like before... Huh?" The next panel shows Vash's composure break, tears welling up in his eyes suddenly, as he didn't expect to cry. He starts to sob, putting his hands to his face to quiet himself and wipe at his tears, as he says, "Ugh... Dammit... I miss h..." The last panel shows Vash leaning over into his hands, still crying, and in the back, the door swings wide open with a bam as Wolfwood walks through with the punisher swung behind him. He shouts, "SPIKEY! You in here?!"
The sixth page starts with Wolfwood confused, looking at Vash and Vash looks back, just as confused, with tears in his eyes and snot out of his nose. Wolfwood starts saying, "Ah? You..." No longer in panels, at the bottom of the page, Wolfwood takes the Punisher off of himself and starts to walk towards Vash, continuing with slight concern, "What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" Vash, hurriedly begins to wipe at his tears, denying immediately, "No! No, I'm fine! Nothing happened!"
The seventh page, Vash points towards the table, with a hand still wiping at his tears and he smiles as he says, "I uh got you food. On the table." Wolfwood looks towards to the table and responds, "Oh. I was getting hungry, thanks." He turns his head back to Vash immediately after with an uncertain expression, knowing the other wasn't responding to his concern, and says, "But, I know you're an idiot with this stuff, so I'm reminding you again. Don't brush it off if it's an issue, alright?"
The eight page, Vash's tears have dried and he looks to Wolfwood with a soft smile and responds, "Yeah. It's okay though..." A panel at the center shows a side view of Vash approaching Wolfwood. At the bottom of the page, with no panel, is a close up shot of Vash's hand, holding onto the edge of Wolfwood's jacket sleeve, as he says, "Because you're here now. Wolfwood."
The final page is a back shot of both of them standing next to each other, Wolfwood's head tilted slightly to the left, not fully believing Vash as he says, "That doesn't answer anything, Spikey." Vash responds, "There's no need to talk about it! You should enjoy your food. Let's have a drink too?" Wolfwood responds, "Tsk, tsk. Fine, yeah. I could use one." END ID]
#vashwood#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun#trigun maximum#but onto this comic... i think and talk a LOT about vash's loneliness bc trigun is just. kind of central on that for a good while! esp in#the original manga he was alone for a good portion of it and he tends to keep others away like how he ran away from meryl and milly when#they tried to tag along. and he was kind of bothered when he realized ww was following him around Too. at the core even though he loves#humans and he loves deeply the people he does know -- he isnt really much of a people person and i think thats been the case since he was#young considering his initial doubts towards humans... with the exception of kids bc kids dont give him moral conflicts. so suddenly#here comes wolfwood!!! his guide. someone TRULY affixed to him until he has to get to knives. someone who isnt budging and someone whos#really good at following him around and even seems like he goes like 5 steps ahead to make sure vash doesnt run on him#in one way its - i don't want you to follow me bc i don't want to burden you and i don't want you to kill the people i want to save.#in another way its - i like this companionship. i like waking up to you and i like ending the way with you. i like talking to someone who#knows my world. i like being in your space and sometimes i enjoy talking about our day#theyre just living together. like. roadtrip buddies or theyre also under the same roof because they're going everywhere together.#trimax they mainly spend their mornings together and if they had personal business attend the other person would usually know and itd only#be during the midday. anyway bc of this kind of companionship i figure that vash eventually grew accustom to it and he really. cant go back#to the kind of loneliness from before. it's harder to imagine and it'd be harder to withstand. esp after 2 years with lina and her grandma.#ruporas art
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Fluent Freshman - Part 19
PREVIOUS
There’s a couple things about FF that might be good to know at this point.
1. There are few things in the world he hates doing more than asking for clarification or admitting he doesn’t understand / know something. The thought of going up to someone and admitting that he hasn’t perfectly comprehended the situation upon the first explanation is something makes his stomach twist like he’d just eaten Mango-Habanero ice cream.
He has figured out his own math theorems in the pursuit of not having to ask the math teacher to explain he doesn’t understand. He got lost in an Ikea once for over 6 grueling hours where he considered making a home there and living among the display rooms until his grandma grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to safety (the food court) and let him regain his strength (eat Swedish meatballs). He, to this day, is not sure about one of his foreign language friend’s names (how embarrassing he just keeps waiting for someone else to say it but they go by some insane nickname).
So he has become a master of piecing shit together on his own. He sometimes gets it wrong (Andrew, god how embarrassing) but for the most part 8 times out of 10 he can get to the right answer if he just has a couple pieces to work with. No one had ever actually explained to him how Exy works and he was too embarrassed to ask after the third week of practice in middle school so he just pieced together what he was and was not allowed to do through the art of trial and error. He’s even mostly pieced out the rules for the other positions.
So with the information he has gotten through people being bound and determined to talk in foreign languages in front of him he has an idea about the tenuous situation some of the older Foxes find themselves in.
He’s heard Kevin Day and Jean Moreau talk in French.
He’s heard that the anxiety in both of their voices as they talked about their futures and owing 80% of their salaries to the ‘Moriyamas’ and how nervous they were about getting on professional teams or else they’d be killed.
Captain Neil and Andrew are not always using Russian to talk dirty.
He’s heard Andrew soothe Captain Neil’s worries about playing for a professional team. He’s heard Captain Neil mention that at least ‘Ichirou’ would likely just kill him and not make a game out of it like his father did.
Organized Crime might have more to do with Exy than FF had originally thought.
(He had thought it. Plenty of times he had thought it but his Gran had warned him that he was overthinking things. That he wasn’t playing a sport invented by the Mafia. That he had caffeinated coffee instead of decaf. “It’s going to be okay sweetie. Just take a deep breath.”)
This leads into the second thing you should know at this point.
2. Before he had signed with Wymack he had known the broad strokes of Captain Neil’s life. There had been a lot of news articles about it and Gran (bless her) loved trashy gossip magazines.
After he had signed with the Foxes he had done a bit of a deep dive on as many of their controversies as he could find. There’d been things from brawls on the court (worrying), player overdoses (concerning), a straight up MURDER (Oh god), and the very public breaking of the King of Exy’s arm resulting in his suicide (Warranted, that wacko was going to take off Captain Neil’s HEAD.)
But the thing that had made him actually a little bit, dare he admit, excited to go to Palmetto was the fact that Captain Neil was there.
For someone who froze for almost a decade, who just took it and didn’t have the balls to even react? Neil Josten is an inspiration.
This is someone who got away, who lived a life completely unlike FF’s, someone who knew how to run and more impressively someone who learned how to FIGHT. Captain Neil was being hunted but he still ripped people to shreds in interviews. Captain Neil was probably more scared of the Butcher than FF had been of anything in his entire life but Captain Neil was way braver than FF could ever hope to be.
Captain Neil was taken and tortured but he still fought. FF had seen the scars and Captain Neil is right to wear them proudly (though based on some conversations he has unfortunately overheard he is sure Andrew may have a role in Neil’s positive feelings about them).
FF had thought that he was being lead to his death down in a basement of a club (Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t-) and he just trailed right behind the two of them without even an illusion of a fight.
Neil Abram Josten was a bit of a personal hero.
He’s proud to call him Captain Neil. He wishes Andrew hadn’t been there when Greg had mentioned wanting autographs because FF wants an autograph from Captain Neil but now Andrew has probably mentioned it to Neil.
Long story short, FF had looked into a lot of details on Captain Neil’s case.
Including two of the Butcher’s top men who were still on the loose.
Romero Malcolm and Jackson Plank.
He keeps his presence low but no matter how many times he blinks the man grumbling in Italian next to him continues to be Romero Malcolm.
Moreover Romero Malcolm continues to grumble about the fact that he is having a hard time finding ‘Nathaniel’ and that he’ll have to grab one of ‘The Wesninski brat’s friends’ to draw him out.
FF is a recently confirmed friend of Captain Neil.
FF who is standing next to this man, with his dick out, and trying to remain as invisible as possible.
After two shakes (Yes he was watching but only because he had to! He wonders briefly if he goes to the FBI if they would accept a description of Romero Malcolm’s penis for the wanted poster? Probably not but it is BURNED into his retinas.)
He watches as Romero tucks, zips, and then bypasses the sink entirely.
FF shivers at how unhygienic that is. Who RAISED him?
The door shuts and FF needs to get out of here ASAP but his hands are shaking with the sudden adrenaline of ’One of the FBI’s Most Wanted just took a piss next to me and is looking for me friend’. He pulls his phone from his pocket and ducks into one of the stalls. Even if there’s no door it’ll at least FEEL a little safer, a little more private. He needs to warn Neil, Warn Andrew, and warn-
The door to the bathroom SLAMS open and music blares in (palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy-) and his phone slips out of his hands and into the toilet. There are footsteps coming towards him and FF digs deep.
He’s in ultra stealth mode. He is the wall behind the wallpaper. Mantis shrimp can only dream of the color he becomes, the United States military have the CIA on the look out for him because he’s fallen off all conventional forms of radar and tracking.
He is a bargain fruit platter on a dessert table at a kid’s birthday party.
He is ULTRA stealth.
Romero’s gaze glides over him.
Then the man leaves (STILL DID NOT WASH HIS HANDS).
His heart is hammering in his chest but he manages to reach down and grab his phone. Well, Coach Wymack had gotten the extended warranty at least. (“Do you know what these fuckers do to phones? Josten crushed his last year in a fight with the Baseball team captain.”)
His phone’s extended dip into the toilet water had not done it any favors in working properly.
Well fuck.
He wipes his phone down the best he can. He wipes his phone down with some toilet paper before cramming it into his pocket (Sorry Nicky, he’ll wash the toilet water pants if they survive).
He sees a flyer on the wall of the bathroom and starts to think of a plan.
He rushes out of the bathroom (he still washes his hands because he will not have something in common with a man on the FBI’s most wanted list and he just dipped his hand into a CLUB TOILET) and clocks Nicky’s wild arm movements and WORSE clocks Romero just 10 clubbers away.
He sees Romero’s eyes lock onto Nicky and a smile that terrifies him.
He’s out of Ultra Stealth Mode even if every atom in his body wants to run.
He is so stressed and panicked that he has gone beyond his body’s ability to process that so all that is left is determination. He’s got a head full of a half-baked plan, a hand going to his pocket, a second hand on the only ‘weapon’ he has on him, and a stomach full of acid.
He’s pulling his phone out of his pocket before he can really let himself think about it and walking up next to where Romero is standing. He holds his toilet water phone up to his ear and does the one weird social anxiety thing that he had never done before.
He pretends to be on a phone call.
“Hey Captain Neil,” he says and in the corner of his eye he can see Romero’s gaze shift from Nicky (surrounded by an adoring public, covered in sweat and therefore difficult to grab - a difficult target) to himself (alone, shorter, and probably looking like he’s about to pass out). “Yeah I think I’m going to take a break outside after I grab quick drink and then a water at the bar.” He says because he has to be the easier target and he has to go to the bar. “Yeah, yeah, okay I’ll mention it to that bartender guy.” He says and pretends to hang up.
He turns and he walks towards the bar and feels his pulse in his throat go to the beat of the music (success is my only motherfucking option, failure’s not).
He only knows about the alley because in the car ride to Sweetie’s Nicky had mentioned that he wouldn’t let FF’s first time be out there. He had been embarrassed but it was the only way he knew to get Romero out of the club and away from where he could hurt Captain Neil or anyone else in the pursuit of that.
He spots the bartender who had gotten the drinks for their table and his mind completely blanks on the name but the bartender sees him and smiles. “Oh you’re Neil and Andrew’s new friend! What can I help you with? I thought you were-“
“Hi, yes I am Captain Neil and Andrew’s friend.” He says a little loudly because he can feel Romero behind him and he does NOT want the man to know anything about where Captain Neil was.
“Captain Neil? Oh wow that’s adorable.” The man gushes. “What can I help you with? I won’t ask for ID for one of their friends.” He winks.
“I’d like to order the uh…” he tries to remember the exact drink name from the flyer, “…the deluxe chocolate martini?” He asks and knows he got it right when the bartender’s expression shifts ever so slightly.
“Oh yeah, how do Andrew and Neil feel about that?” He asks and oh great a coded conversation. It’s nice to actually be having a real one of these for once instead of just perceiving normal conversations to have hidden meanings.
“They don’t know. They probably prefer that I order it instead of Nicky or Aaron.” He lets his eyes dart to the wide where he believes Romero is watching him.
“I don’t know if that’s true.” The bartender says, “Nicky knows how to handle a drink and Aaron’s not a lightweight either.” He adds.
FF struggles to find a coded way to say ‘It’s not that someone’s hitting on me too hard like the flyer mentioned. It’s that there’s a mafia hitman in your club.’
Finally after a moment, “It’s not the usual kind of drink they get.” He tries and the bartender looks confused by the statement, dammit. He struggles to find a different way to say it before the bartender smiles.
“Y’know you’re really cute.” He reaches under the bar top and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. “How about you write down your number for me cutie? We can meet up sometime.” He says. “I’ll get started on that chocolate martini for you.” He says.
HE COULD KISS THIS MAN.
“I’d like that.” He says.
He writes out a quick message on the small note paper.
‘Armed. After Neil. Looked at Nicky. I’m going to the back alley. Phone is dead.’
The bartender comes back and looks at his note. “We’re out of chocolate martini mix, can I get you something-“ He hopes the club lighting obscures how pale the man got, “something else?” He asks and FF can SEE his pulse.
“Can I just get some water then?” He asks.
The bartender nods and pulls up his phone and hopefully is dialing the police and hands FF a water. His hand grabs hold of FF’s “You don’t need to go out into the alley. You could hang in the backroom with me?” He offers.
There really are some kind people in the world.
“I think it’s better if I’m not in here for a bit.” He says back and honestly he needs this kindness and he has a spare bit of courage, “What’s your name by the way? Sorry I missed it.” He says.
The bartender swallows, “It’s Roland.” He says.
“Thanks Roland.” He twists the cap off of the water bottle and takes a sip.
He turns and pretends not to notice how Romero is trying to be inconspicuous pretending to be on his phone.
He makes his way over to the alley door and notices that Romero is tracking his movements but is not following him like he did to the bar.
His heart is pounding and he can’t BELIEVE he’s doing this. He wants to run, wants to hide somewhere, wants to become imperceptible but…but…
He opens the door to the alley as the bass of the remixed song finishes.
(You can do anything you set your mind to, man)
He lets the door slam behind him and he is alone in the alley.
He was not expecting a van to come to a screeching halt in front of the entrance and for a different face to appear climbing out of the car.
Jackson Plank.
FF looks at the ugly smile on the man as he walks towards him with a knife in hand.
Okay now what genius?

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
5/26/23: EDITED. Can’t believe I forgot to put the Captain in front of Neil’s name on the meme. I’m blaming the accidental early awakening.
Per your requests:
@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit
The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.
As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?
Lillyndra it worked this time!!!
#Fluent Freshman AU#Is it a songfic chapter if it's only 3 lines? Experts aren't sure#Did I listen to lose yourself a lot while writing this chapter? Perhaps#If Nora mentioned something about Jackson or Romero in her extras I did not read it#Also gonna be honest here and state that I forgot the likely year that AFTG happened in and this is happening in 2010#So I guess this AU also involves a slight time shift#Andrew and Neil may have gotten lost in one another's eyes a bit down in the speakeasy#Really they're just being polite to get all of their PDA out of the way while FF is taking what might be the piss of a lifetime.#(They have no idea how accurate that might be)#Andrew is all set to kiss one of his favorite of Neil's freckles (yes he has ordered them from favorite to lesser favorite)#Then his phone goes off#He looks and it's Roland#Andrew: WTF is Roland trying to call me?#Nicky is busy being the Dancing Queen. If someone plays ABBA he will absolutely scream rn#I had considered a whole sequence of FF trying to get Nicky and Aaron to the safety of the backroom in Eden's#And Nicky just keeps reappearing on the dancefloor while FF is looking for Aaron#I was gonna use that simpsons meme where Moe throws out Barney and then Barney is just right back in the bar#But it got a little too crazy#But just know in this AU Nicky is canonically an excellent escape artist#Maybe Erik went through a bit of a magician phase and Nicky was DELIGHTED to be asked to be his assistant#Maybe that's how they got together#The inherent ROMANCE of magician and assistant#I don't remember if they ever really said in the books or nora's content#If I'm rambling because I forgot to shut off my alarm (Memorial Day 4-day weekend baby)#The fate of FF's phone may have been caused by some slight anger towards my own#RIP FF's Wymack phone (July 2010 - November 2010)#AFTG#AFTG AU#Andreil#FF - Pt.19
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how do i tell my roommate that her cat repeatedly pissing on and destroying my things is something that people usually offer to clean or replace or apologize for instead of shrugging off
#there's always garbage scattered along the floor she has a million shoes that somehow end up under my bed#she fucking leaves her cat alone for days and days bc 'if he gets hungry he'll rip open the cat food bag' ?????#her cat killed one of her turtles bc of their shitty housing and the other one's visibly terrified to bask in the fucking#led light that gives off no heat that i TOLD her was wrong and unhealthy months ago#she never cleans said turtle's tank even though the algae bloom is currently insane#her shit takes up like 80% of the room for exactly zero reason#and i cant use my closet because rascal pissed in it over the month long break and she did nothing about it#meaning the whole closet smells so much like piss that any clothes that stay there will smell like piss#it's fucking filthy in here and she never cleans obviously but it also makes it harder for me to clean bc her shit's everywhere#can you please maybe just take some of the trash out before you go cheat on your boyfriend please#(<- at least im pretty sure that's what's going on? might be more of an open relationship)#your cat is fucking violent and filthy because you never hang out with him or clean anything#and next year i'll be gone (im Not living like this for another year) and someone else is going to put you into debt#charging you for the things your cat ruined or they're going to abuse him again and you don't even seem to care#bc you're too busy buying sorority merch and thinking about new tattoos and shit#i want broke ppl to have fun and to buy/do things that make them happy but her negligence literally has a body count now#bc she refuses to keep a turtle she's had for over a year in anything but shallow unprotected tupperware#a small glass tank isn't that expensive especially not compared to tattoos!! you Can save for this#and more importantly you Should have saved for this before getting a fucking living thing in your house#she kept her dead turtle rotting in our room for about three weeks. just. in a cup by the sink#and there's nowhere the cat can't reach so im terrified every time i leave that he's gonna piss on my mattress or something#that i'd be financially responsible for (or else that'd leave the poor inheriter of this room in filth) and couldn't really clean properly#and unfortunately i like talking to her so much and im so dogshit with confrontation that i never say anything#world's biggest sucker award!! fucking. christ on a cracker#like he's pissed on my SHOES. he's scratching up everything in here#and i don't want to pay outta my ass or spend a bunch of time trying to fix her cat for her#because contrary to popular belief i have shit to do!! i do not have the energy to have a cat That's Why I Don't Have One!!!!!#and i can't go to the RA bc she's not supposed to have any of these animals#if rascal gets taken from her chances are he's gonna get euthanized at our local shelter and i can't take him in bc of my dogs#but why doesn't she ever stop to think about how this might be affecting me?? my standards are not that high!!!!
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I don't know that I've seen a quarterback exerting that kind of pressure on the organization....Joe Burrow has been incredibly consistent and vocal about wanting to keep Tee Higgins around...
Burrow's contract has already forced Cincinnati to start doing some things that they don't normally do. He has already broken rules that the Bengals have typically had in terms of how they handle their contracts. Like his deal is the type of deal that they don't sign previously. So they've already made exceptions...started to modernize...started to act the way the rest of the NFL does, because Burrow is so special...so if he was able to make them do that for his own contract, is he able to make them do that to keep Tee Higgins in the building? To go in a different direction than they would normally do?
#really liked this segment from check the mic#i typically like these guys. they discuss things in a very objective data driven non-hysterical way#which is refreshing for national media lol#i don't agree with everything they say on a bengals level just because again they're national so they aren't going to be#the most up to date on all 32 teams#like for instance as a follow up to this. steve says that they can't pay everyone. but all the local people have done the math. they can!#but regardless. i really like this because a. pointing out again how unique it is for joe to be doing this much public advocating#again. wish he didn't have to!! but love that he is! he's always gonna stand on business for his guys!!#and b. i like that sam points out like hey. the bengals HAVE shown they can do a modern contract!!#with like guaranteed money in the future and void years and all that fancy stuff!#of course they have ONLY done it with joe. and i'm sure very very begrudgingly (as evidenced by how fucking long it took them lol)#but. hey! it /could/ be a sign they're willing to do this for other players#like ja'marr i'm sure wanted an equivalent modern structure (more guaranteed money in future years and such!)#and that's part of the reason he didn't sign last year even when the amounts were fine. he wanted to get the same treatment as joe#(deservedly so!)#and because the bengals refused to budge on that they didn't get the deal done. the year before he breaks all these records#and gets the triple crown. making the price go WAY up#so you'd think they have to regret that right? had to have learned from it?? (you'd THINK)#so perhaps they can compare risk and find that actually you SHOULD do these modern contracts. and do them early!#and it actually pays off in the end!#anyway. all this to say. i like that so much of the media has taken note of joe's actions here#and god god god i hope it all pays off#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals
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turns out my supervisor is?? impressed??? with my work so far??? how do I keep getting away with this??
#surely someone’s going to catch me eventually#<- thinks imposter syndrome isn’t happening to him bc he’s justified this time I swear#<- chronically undervalues his time work effort and feelings#<- has been working very consistently on this project and just. taking breaks. I’ve been having more breaks. bc I need them.#genuinely insane though that I’ve been so stressed abt my supervisor being annoyed at me and thinking I’m not doing enough and none of its#working properly#and then I have my first meeting back in person this year and we go through my analyses and like. he’s very happy with them.#I’m ahead of schedule (a schedule for me which he has in his own head and has not deigned to tell me)#he’s impressed by how I’m thinking abt stuff which to me feels incredibly basic and something that obviously needs considering#(that one might be him underestimating students but genuinely idk! literally talking abt thinking abt effect sizes which is. basic science)#(regardless of whether that’s true I am making good points and coming up with explanations for shit and planning my own analyses so like)#part of why I’m so surprised IS bc I’ve had so little help doing this during an incredibly bad time for me but also!!!! what!!!!!!#things are FINALLY looking up a little bit and I’m gonna be sososo busy for a while but I am just happy that this is apparently going well#hot girl winter? perchance?#luke.txt
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I'm alive!!!!
#sometimes I just do other internet things instead of tumblr haha#but I am good!!#it's been busy#also I had my birthday#I am now in EARLY FORTIES#next year it will be MID#what is life#it's just weird how time works#and how you have to spend so much of your life being really bad at it!!!!#it would be nice if we could live longer just so you could have more time to benefit from life lessons you've learned#although probably we would just find new and more inventive ways of screwing things up#as you do#I'm still really addicted to Stardew Valley#it's never lasted this long so I'm not sure if I should be concerned#but I have also been doing a lot of reading#work has slowed down so that's good#also I have been weirdly into watching professional football this fall#not a specific team#just kind of overall#like I have a handful of teams whose fates mildly interest me#I think it's because there is this guy on YouTube who is doing a series called If the NFL Was Scripted#and I am just amazed at how he has created an entire lore#based around events that he actually can't predict or plan#ANYWHO#today I have sooooo much painting to do!!#it's ridiculous#I thought I was past this part of home renovation#but here we are#it's sucky painting too#lots and lots of trim
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Thinking about how Haruhi absolutely screwed over Asakura.
Because like.
Haruhi makes the club. The club goes looking for trouble and finds nothing and also the straws were not in her favor and she didn't get to go looking for trouble with Kyon.
Haruhi gets depressed because nothing has happened in the club in its one week of existence.
Five minutes later, Asakura: Hey. Kyon. Let's play stabby!
One day later, Haruhi: HEY KYON ASAKURA DISAPPEARED YOU AND ME GONNA TEAM UP AND LOOK FOR TROUBLE.
And like. Asakura is stated repeatedly to be the prettiest girl in their class other than maybe Haruhi, and Haruhi can't go after Mikuru because Mikuru's part of her gang.
What I'm saying is Asakura suddenly being stabby is entirely Haruhi's fault.
....
And, as a result, it is highly likely that Yasuke should be concerned.
#musings#dr haruhi crossover#i know what happens with yasuke actually#i've known what happens with him for A WHILE now#but also this is why the rest of melancholy hasn't happened#with haruhi making a new universe and transporting herself there with junko#there are TWO pressures that cause haruhi to do that#one of them is boredom because the brigade is not doing what she thinks it should#(haruhi you had this club for five minutes sorry that sometimes this takes longer give it five to ten business days)#the other is kyon obviously crushing on mikuru more than haruhi#which is really better put as haruhi being insecure about how kyon feels about jer#*her#it's not even wholly mikuru although it's most blatant there#she gets frustrated when he goes off alone with yuki too#and the asakura example abovw#*above#she doesn't have that problem with junko for two reasons:#one - junko doesn't care about anybody else that way (other than yasuke) and so there's rarely a visible threat#(this will come up just not until the endless eight rewrite)#(at least that's where it's planned to start showing up)#(but you can retroactively see it in the sigh rewrite - in point of fact mukuro showing up is a result of it)#two - haruhi hasn't made the connection between ghost girl and junko#(i would argue she DID on some level make the connection between kyon and the guy from three years ago)#(that's where the 'do i know you from somewhere maybe like the past' line comes from)#junko's not officially a love interest consciously in haruhi's head yet#and won't consciously be for a while#haruhi is still chasing down ghost girl#junko has to usurp ghost girl before that part of melancholy can happen#and what happens with yasuke probably won't happen until after that#because junko might have two hands but haruhi is pretty sure they should both be hers thank you very much
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Giant personal vent time
This guy stole somewhere between 3 to 6 MILLION dollars from my grandmother by conning my great aunt into signing over her estate and medical & financial power of attorney to him literally on her death bed
I and my aunt have been working basically a whole second job the last 3 months trying to get together a legal case to go after this guy. And now my grandma wants to drop it. And no one else has standing so what the fuck can we do.
This man has absolutely done this to other ppl before, there is no doubt in my mind. I’ve seen his property records for just what’s publicly available in my county and it’s sketchy as hell. I am never going to get over this but there’s nothing I can do.
Gonna put like a million more thoughts in the tags because I’m losing my fucking mind.
#it’s not like we don’t have the money#the estimated legal fees are like $100k but we’d definitely get it back from the estate in the end#but grandma doesn’t want to look like she’s going after her sister’s money#and she won’t admit she has dementia so I’m not allowed to tell the lawyer that she can’t handle testifying#so he just thinks we’re being wishy washy#and my aunt is so conflict avoidant she won’t tell the lawyer anything that’s happening that he could absolutely be helping with#and my dumbass step cousin is so conflict avoidant he’d literally rather let the family business go bankrupt than actually deal with this#why the fuck did she make him ceo#I know why she trusted this guy but jfc whyyyy did she trust him#god if only I had a time machine I’d go back 6 months and make sure we kicked him out of her house#I really really didn’t think he’d go this far. I just thought he was a weird dude she was being too nice to#but no. actual con artist#the more we learn the worse it gets#and grandma just cannot handle it. even though she has the money!! I’m so mad#I wanna email every reporter I can think of until I find someone willing to publish an article about this guy#so that at least that way someone would see how fucking sketchy he is when they Google him#so that maybe the next person won’t fall for it#is there some kind of legal action you can take that’s basically just like#hey we’re not willing to spend years to prove that you’re evil#but just for the record we need everyone to know you suck and we hate you#like just so ppl know#maybe I should ask our pastor to send out a PSA to all the other little old ladies at church#since that’s how my great aunt met him in the first place#I could get at least 3 good books out of all the drama in my fucking family I think#one for this whole thing. one for my dad’s insane parents. and one for all the bad decisions I made in Seattle
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This is technically a Diana's age poll but I framed it partially around Julia's rescue because that's the event I need to contextualize and whether or not Diana is a thing yet is p important for my purposes. I would keep the Pérez run and postcrisis continuity in mind when answering this bc that's when this is relevant but I'd keep in mind that even though Diana is very young there (like early 20s) we don't know I don't think if she ages differently as a child (esp as a themysciran AND being made from clay) and in some versions she is older than she looks and was made earlier
Edit: I accidentally logic-ed this out in the tags lol 🤦♀️but feel free to still vote however you want. Going to publish this anyway bc I think I made some good points later in my tags
#blah#the 45 years is a guesstimation of julias age w her being in her late 40s#bc she has a middle school aged daughter which would make you lean a bit younger but shes also highly respected prof at harvard (is she the#dept head? i think so. and has a career that would suggest older. and shes also drawn middle aged so 🤷♀️#i would say late 40s early 50s for her honestly. but i moved it down a lil bit bc of vanessas age#wait shit i may have contradicted logic here bc wasnt the diana trevor stuff supposed to have happened before dianas birth. and that was#wwii. which would be btwn 42 and 45 years. BC PÉREZ!TREVOR IS OLD I FORGOT THAT#okay so actually there still could be a question of what happened first the timeline would just be much shorter#but then wouldnt julias family be boating during wwii? that makes no sense#im definitely thinkimg too hard about this probably. logically it would make the most sense if diana was like 20smth in reality. but thats#its own basket of worms honestly. like what do you mean hippolyta only had like 20 yrs w her daughter out of a lifespan of thousands of#years. what do you MEAN she became champion and ambassador so young like#like also thats the point though. she had to wear a mask in the challenge for a reason. her inexperience with men is what makes her the kind#of ambassador they need. and her youth and relation to hippolyta and role as the baby of the amazons is one of the things that makes her#ambassadorship SO important is bc she fulfills that role in an ancient sense. where it would be a sign of great trust and respect to send#someone close to the crown as an envoy bc it shows you mean business and arent going to reneg on whatever the deal is. bc if you do they#shoot the messenger#god anyways i very much answered my own question here in the tags like 100%. esp in regards to the pérez canon bc he very much laid this out#and i was trying to weasel my way out of it. only that didnt work and the decisions he made he made for a reason and they have huge#narrative importance. damn. okay then#i always write the shittiest posts and the best tags and then have to keep the post to keep the tags#i rlly need to make these tags posts ugh. anyways keeping this up bc of my tags abt diana and ambassadorship#also sidenote I LOVE HIPPOLYTA#just though id mention that. i love how much shes motivated by love and i also love when she makes fucked up decisions bc of that and has to#live with them. woman of all time FOR REALS#god this is making me want to reread historia again lol bc its the one ww comic i own. also its fire. and hippolyta gets to make shitty#decisions motivated by emotion and live w the consequences. and the comic is actually good unlike when that happened in the messner-loebs#run. which was the other instance of that ive read rlly. 10000% sure there are others but i havent fully gotten there yet.#i mean ive read other comics where she makes painful decisions thats like her whole deal but there are different vibes to those than the two#i mentioned. like the exile thing in ww year 1 or rlly anytime she has to send diana away
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1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!
2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr
3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!
overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!
#aritalks#i did cry a little bit when i first woke up because i dont really know what to do about work and also i hate not having a car i can use#not only because of the work aspect but also getting my license when i was 18 gave me a freedom i didn’t have before#and i don’t like having to rely on other people just to like go to the fucking store or something yk#but then my best friend/roommate messaged me happy birthday and i was like fuck it! today is going to be a good day!#the stressful uncertainties can wait until tomorrow#also one of my best friends who hasn’t said happy birthday to me the past two years#(not intentionally im p sure they were just busy on my birthdays the past two years#and then had that moment of ‘oh shit i didnt send a message fuck i think its too late now’ which i totally get bc anxiety things yk)#was one of the first people to message me happy birthday!!#i’m also hoping to still be able to go see my mom and then stay the night at my dads tonight#so i can see both my parents and also my baby siblings for my birthday#my dads working today but after he texted happy birthday i sent him a text asking if he thinks we could still make it work#my mom is asleep still i think (she called me at midnight and left a voicemail singing happy birthday!! but her sleep schedule has been all#over the place recently so i’m waiting until 11:30 to call her which is in like 30 mins)#but she said something yesterday about driving out to me to give me a hug and also bring me my diabetes stuff that got delivered#(her house is my mailing address because i know it’s not going to change bc it’s my great grandparents house that she’s partially inhereting#when my great grandpa dies but since i have moved out of my dads my address has changed twice and i didnt have a mailbox at my last place so#just for the sake of consistency and not having to worry about important shit getting sent to the wrong address i’ve had her house as my#mailing address since i moved out of my dads at 19)#so i think i’m gonna ask her if she can just pick me up instead so i can go to her house w her and hang out with her#and hopefully my dad will be able to at least stop by with my siblings so i can see them too#i’d like to stay the night with them but if we can’t make it happen then i can also stay the night w my mom and hopefully tomorrow figure#out the car situation. might have to rent a car for a week if i can afford it? best case scenario is my moms car can be fixed but i still#dont know whats wrong with it ik there are two potential problems and one is fixable the other is not#the fixable one would cost like $150-$400 to fix depending on if we get a used part or a new one#if its $150-$200 ish i can probably afford to pay for the whole thing or at least most of it#but if its more than that hopefully my dad or one of my family members can help#and i can just pay them back in like $50 increments with my next few paychecks#just realized i said i wouldnt worry abt the car thing today and also i think im at tag limit to i’ll stop now lmao xoxo gossip girl ❤️
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you know, it kind of bothers me that this is what it took for everyone to start talking about how well his line has been doing.
i've been talking about the 51-71-40 line all year, and i'm glad people are finally starting to realize just how good they are, but gosh. this sucks.
and i understand why people are bringing up johnny, obviously we all flashed back to that, but according to the details they released it definitely was not as serious, so i wish it would stop being compared. if only for my own sanity...
the fact emil walked away from the incident, and apparently didn't feel the effects until today, makes me think it really isn't worth worrying about. which is so, so relieving, for me.
#i genuinely do not have it in me to handle any more grief#i just. i knew something bad was going to happen soon#i've been having horrible dreams and one of which actually was. about a fav who died.#literally woke up in the middle of the night crying and shaking and everything#like i've just been worried and i kept telling myself to stop bc it's stupid and not real. but i know how my intuition works#it's so scary because another dream was about someone who - now that i'm thinking about it - has a bunch of like#little ties that connect him to heino in certains ways and i can't really explain it without saying too much#but yeah just. i'm so SO glad he's alright. gosh we know how much worse things can get#it's just rn all the 'oh no what are we gonna do about that line' discourse is like.. are u kidding me? i've been praising them all year 😭#NOW you realize what we lost?? sure everyone's too busy talking about 77 and 20 and how much $$ 71 is worth lmao#whatever man i can't even bring myself to care about hockey rn#like i just need a sec to recover from this shock it's obviously triggered some ptsd#i went outside at lunch and got some air so that helped but then i called my dad and had to break the news cause he didn't hear#i hated saying it out loud lol. but yeah the initial shock passed and i feel better but i still need a little extra time to process#(thank you childhood trauma for delaying and prolonging my emotional regulations. you suck <3)#rants
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Night(wing) Crawler - G.S.
Synopsis. Trapped with a too-smug, too-handsome Nightwing by the very same villains you were trying to swindle was not how you planned to spend your night. Luckily for you, Gojo can think of a much better way to pass the time.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! anti-hero!reader, Nightwing! Gojo, BATMAN AU, enemies-to-Iovers, forced proximity, píning, MARATHONS, manhandIing, Gojo goes FÉRAL, overstím, he is BIG, making it fit, cervíx kíssing, tummy buIges, BREÉDING, RIPPING suits, spítting, cúmplay, chokíng, arguing during it, PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, matíng presses, making Gojo CRY, oraI (f + m rec.), p talking, breaking furniture, Red Hood! Geto cameo, slight vioIence, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 10.4k
A/N. *evil laughs* I just had to.

“You.”
“You.”
“Enchanté, sweetheart.” And Gojo - oh, it’s so undeniably Gojo Satoru’s sapphire gaze behind that satiny mask - tilts over his tall, bubbling glass of champagne towards you with the cockiest of winks. A wink.
Your teeth set on edge - out of all the pompous, boorish high society balls that he could crash undercover, it just had to be the one that you were planning to heist.
And by the most pompous, boorish hero of all.
If looks could kilI, then you’d be upturning Gojo’s grave to finish him off yourself already.
“Didn’t think you were one for masquerade balls.” He’s leaning in to brush off an invisible piece of lint from your shoulder, words coming out in scorching hot puffs against your ear. Low, hoarse. “Changed much during your lil’ vacation, hm? How is the Gotham State Penitentiary this time of year?”
“Oh, I don’t know. How’s the hottest one of the Bat Family doing?” You’re sniping back, head cocked innocently. Silent for just how long it takes for Gojo’s eyes to widen, breath to hitch- “Y’know…Toji Fushiguro. How’s Batman doing, Nightwing?”
There’s a strangely sharp glint in his stare, and his traitorously handsome jaw clenches through a wild grin.
With a wide sweep of the bustling ballroom, he murmurs over the live orchestra. “You’re gonna give me away~”
“Don’t even have to try.” You’re tilting your head up in defiance when he closes in so many sultry inches, all the way until you could feel the heated press of Gojo’s ticking biceps through his formal suit. Heady masculine cologne invading your senses, “That mask does more than enough damage.”
Honestly, what fool dons a disguise with a mask that looks exactly like his hero one?
Though, you weren’t complaining - if Nightwing accidentally provided the perfect distraction for you to swindle future big-shot congressman and business heir, Naoya Zenin, out of his precious diamonds then so be it.
The fact that Batman’s protégé would be humiliated was only a plus.
Scoffing, “So what you’re saying is you want me out of it? Scandalous, but I don’t fuck before a first date.”
A very, very big plus.
“Never in your wildest dreams, Nightwing.” You’re pettily raising your voice just a pitch to make the sculptured man in front of you squirm, as much as he would never admit it. “S’it that you don’t fuck or you don’t get to? Come here to try out your hand with the wives of the bourgeoisie?”
“I’m here on business, sweetheart. Gotta get to that brat Naoya’s office.” Gojo nods towards a gaggle of ogling older ladies, ever-the-charmer.
It’s enough to make them swoon, and - you hate to admit it - for your heart to stutter just a beat.
Because Gojo Satoru looked good. All powerful, lean muscle that carried him so many numerous inches over six feet. The rich, yolkish lighting makes his dark blue jacket look almost painted to his slender waist, and those meaty, meaty thighs.
Easily the sexiest man in this room full of sordid businessmen and shifty politicians.
If you dared to let your gaze roam, you’re sure they’d stray past his milky collarbones to catch a hint of the even tighter black and blue hero suit he was surely wearing under.
He looked more than good, if you were being honest.
But when has one of Gotham’s most notorious cat burglars ever needed to be honest?
And you’re so caught up in pondering just what the others see in him that it gives you an electric jolt to feel the doughy pads of Gojo’s gloved fingertips brushing down your thigh. Feeling as if he was searing through your saucy, glittering gown.
There’s a tremor of amusement when his sensory tips meet the cold hilt of your famed dagger. Hidden.
Tonality dripping with something sickly sweet that makes your tummy lurch, “And it seems like I’m not the only one, Prowler. The Zenin diamonds?”
“The Zenin drug smuggling ring?”
You both give a curt, almost-missable nod. Your eyes back to analyzing the sprawling celebrations for any sign of the aforementioned Zenin heir himself.
Though, not for long- “Y’know, maybe I should send you back to your lovely penitentiary right now, girl. Already did once.” Whispered right against your sensitive earlobe.
“Darling–” Your plastic smile is almost painful as you feel the interested stares from around the room. You did make quite an eye-catching pair, especially so close. Hand drifting to his beefy, veined forearm and pinching, “-you’re too close~”
“I don’t think I’m close enough.”
Nails clawing down his smooth skin and towards his pale wrist. “Close enough for me to strike a vein without a single person here knowing any better.”
“That’s kinda hot–” Gojo’s lips quirk upwards, sleek brows quirking up to the curtain of his snowy bangs. And you don’t know where to look - down below, where he’s adjusting his pants with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, or up above where his irises follow a triangle between both your eyes n’ your lips, dead-on. “-for a petty thief.”
“You little-”
“Big, actually.” And of course, he has to interrupt with a look on his face that tells you he knew you were fighting to not take a glance downwards and confirm for yourself. “I’m very big.”
“I hear words compensate.” You’re batting your lashes through your own lacy Stygian mask, too close. “And I hear Toji’s bigger.”
“Enough with the-”
“My my, young love sure is fiery!” Saved by a rough, booming voice to your side of the festivities. Though, you’re not sure if it would technically be considered a “save” when you’re finally snapping your head and recognizing the source of those words. “I always do tell Naoya ‘ere that it’s time to settle down. No such luck so far!”
As Naobito Zenin slaps an overly harsh hand down on his son’s crisp, suit-cladden shoulder with a bark of laughter, you mutter. “Can’t imagine why.”
Though, perhaps it was a bit too loud.
Because Naoya’s nostrils flare in a sharp inhale, and you’re hearing Gojo stifle a breathy rumble of laughter from his broad chest- shit, since when were you two even pressed up like this? No wonder it must have looked…romantic to an outsider.
“Naobito Zenin, at your service.”
“Ah, my apologies for being so rude.” You’re pushing away from the hero as if it burned - and by the strange tingling on your skin, maybe it really did. Reaching over to the wizened, leering man for a handshake. “I’m-”
“Mrs. Gojo, of course.” Gojo gets there first. “My wife and I are new to Gotham, you see. We wanted to make connections here in our new home.” A warm hand casually slings over your shoulder, slender digits tight. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
What….the fuck.
And perhaps you should’ve screamed bloody murder - maybe that would make the Zenin’s take pity on you after an encounter with this lecher.
“That’s right.” Perhaps you shouldn’t have leaned in just as you did to his hard front. But if the way that Gojo was momentarily stunned told you anything, it was that you were doing something right. “It’s all been quite a change.”
Naoya’s thin, mahogany brows raise silently - new to the city and already invited to one of the most elite social gatherings of the year? That certainly was intriguing.
“Gojo? Gojo…so familiar…” Naobito muses out loud, and your veins boil with anxiety as his face scrunches. Before he clicks his fingers with flourish, “A-ha–! You wouldn’t have anything to do with the revered Gojo Enterprises now, would you?”
Your faux-husband places a hand over his heart, “Ah, my most beloved little project.”
“President?”
“CEO.”
Calling a multi-billion dollar foreign company a “little project” was generous, you think. But what was even more so was- “Though, it’s nothing in comparison to what I have coming up soon.” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Oh! We probably shouldn’t reveal much, however. Confidential, only friends and family.”
Naobito Zenin was practically frothing from the mouth at this point. And you notice that even Naoya’s suspicious furrow had almost completely disappeared. Almost.
“C-confidential-” The older man squeals, before bumping a fist into Gojo’s puffed-up chest. “Why, we’re friends now, aren’t we? Tell me tell me- just between you and I, how big are we talking?”
“Big.”
“Bigger than Gojo Enterprises? S-surely impossible-”
You cut in, “Bigger. Better, considering the association with the parliament we’ve negotiated this time. Whoops- my apologies, darling, that simply slipped out.”
And through it all, Naoya stays unnervingly quiet - even while his father tries and fails to hide his squawks of delight.
It would’ve almost been comedic if the air wasn’t so cut-throat tense. As if the clinking glasses and chatter of the ball were infinite miles away from your little bubble now.
Past animosity almost evaporated, you’re managing to meet Gojo’s eyes. His cloud-pale eyebrows wiggling with a knowing waver, and you find yourself plastering on an exaggerated look of distress before carrying out the finishing blow.
“Oh, but you know–” Patting the delicious curves of his pecs, “-my husband has been so stressed lately. I’m afraid he’ll overwork himself mad with this new project.”
“Aw, dear…”
“I do wish he’d take on a partner to collaborate and split the innumerable profits with. But, alas, there hasn’t been a company competent or high-profile enough for our taste.”
And by the sharp elbow Naobito digs into Naoya’s ribs, you already know that you’ve won. Well, that the two of you have won.
Reluctantly, almost as if every word made his bones ache, his son purses out a tight. “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo, my father and I certainly hope this isn’t too forward, but we believe that- ah, we might just be exactly what you’re looking for.”
You both adopt a look of faint surprise, “Oh?”
Another nudge, another step forward.
“Apologies for the late introduction, but I’m Naoya Zenin. Future congressman, future CEO of the immensely successful Zenin Corporations” Each syllable practically oozing with icy smugness, “I believe I know what you want, and we are it. Please, allow me to reach out on behalf of our Zenin hospitality and lead the two of you to our private business room; where we can discuss this further…in-depth.”
Somehow, the trail end of his sentence made you shudder.
“Ah, how wonderful!” Gojo’s arm wraps possessively around your waist, “Lead the way, Naoya.”
And if you were lucky to be led straight to the dragon’s lair of treasures, then you were even luckier when one of those said dragons stayed behind.
Indeed, Naobito was held back in conversation with another undoubtedly important parliamentary figure as you and Gojo followed Naoya out of the massive, gilded doors. Silent. Rigid.
“Take him out. Drug-smuggling documents, then diamonds.” Gojo rasps from the corner of his mouth, voice barely audible for you let alone the stiff figure a few steps in front of you. Leading you along windingly decadent corridors and staircases.
You’re shaking your head, eyes following the velvety curtains and gleaming ornaments on display and wondering whether you should increase your scope for this heist even more than just the diamonds. “Diamonds, then whatever. I don’t give a shit what you do.”
“Drug-smuggling documents, then diamonds, then prison for you, girl.” He snarks back, “Unless– you wanna make up for this appalling date by actually going out with-”
“We’re here.”
It seems that the Zenin’s did have quite an affinity for interrupting you two at the most important of times.
And the only thing keeping Gojo from curling his features into a sneer is the sight of those rich, mahogany double doors in front of him. This was it.
The infamous Zenin office room.
With enough secrets to overturn the nation, and– Gojo sneaks a glimpse at the determined set of your gaze - enough diamonds, too.
Naoya’s spindly fingers twist on the burnished golden door handles, letting them creak open just a few inches ajar. Dim lighting floods out through the crack, and you’re seeing the outline of an expensive cross between an office room and a lounge room.
He gestures his hands in a wave inside with an almost-bored sort of drawl, “Guests first, I insist.”
Your fingers itch towards the dagger strapped to your thigh, and Gojo’s stare narrows. Tone steely yet polite, “No no, as the future master of the house-”
“I insist.”
“Alright…” He plants a staggering palm on the small of your back, “Come along then, sweetheart.”
Tentatively stepping onto the luxurious red carpet inside at the same time, you swear from your cunning optics you see Naoya’s lips twitch-
And then it happens.
All in the span of a nanosecond that neither you nor Gojo have the time to react - the floor and the ceiling crack open in an almost metre-wide line dividing you two and the door, a thick wall of metal snapping! shut in place before you can blink, and suddenly– suddenly, you’re trapped.
“Fuck-”
“No!”
“You must excuse me for the rude welcome-” Naoya’s voice drifts over, and you’re noticing that the gleaming wall had a small window pane. Enough for you to see a sliver of crazed, honeypool eyes, “-Prowler and Nightwing.”
He knows.
Of course, he knew. You were here trapped between a thoroughly bolted, heavy-duty panel of metal harder than diamonds. Ones especially made for trained heroes and- well, you.
And one furious bang! of your fist told you that not even your overpowered strength would be able to break through - it barely even rattled the barrier’s bolts that proudly stood circumference of your head. Running the expanse from floor to ceiling, you were backed into a corner.
Looking behind you, you’re met with the rest of the gleaming office; shelves upon shelves of books, a busy desk, cushy loveseats. And no window.
No exit.
He’s spitting, face twisting into heaps of wrinkles as he grins. “My father might be half-blind, but I’m not.” Pointing accusingly, “You almost got me, I admit. But any fool could tell- the tension, the stupid flirting. Who else would it fuckin’ be if not for you two?”
Crossing your arms, you do your best to keep out the tremble in your voice. “Quite frankly, I’m almost insulted.”
“I’m not.”
And you do not glower at Gojo…this time. To firmly disprove Naoya’s point, if anything.
The other man clenches his teeth, throwing his hands. “I don’t care what you feel. This is checkmate, so now you both simply die.”
Running your hands through your cage, you could practically feel the power. The strength. “Well, it seems you’re not just beauty- well, you’re not beauty at all, actually.”
“Don’t forget, he isn’t brains either.” Gojo pipes up, nodding towards you. “I know this daddy’s boy wasn’t the one to make this lair. It reads more like the works of-”
“Shut up shut up shut up-” You and him watch in mild astonishment as your captor drags his fingers through his hay-blond locks and pulls. You swear you could count every red, popped blood vessel in his bulging eyes. “-insufferable fucking- I have you two at my mercy, and when my father hears about this he will be pleased. Very pleased.”
You will yourself not to gulp, “There’s nothing you can do to us.”
“Wait and watch. After all, I am the future head of Zenin Corporations, I’ll kill both of you. It doesn’t matter how.”
Before you can torment him any further, he turns tail and throws a withering glare your way. Hands on the doors, it feels like something leaden is forming in your throat. “Better sit tight until the ball ends and we can have our ah- fun little afterparty.”
.
.
.
“Can’t you stop that infernal noise, girl.”
You’re halting your body mid-punch, a thin line of sweat trickling from your temple. Heaving out, “I don’t see you helping.”
Not even waiting for a response before you’re back to gifting the office wall with a solid CLANG! You’d already attempted the same with the metallic partition, to not even a single crater. And by the unaffected state of the rest of the room, you’re slowly realizing that every one of these four walls might just be made from the same material.
Fuck.
BANG!
“For fucks-”
“What are you doing, then?” You’re whirling around to face a precarious Gojo Satoru, standing on one foot on top of a high bookshelf and murmuring utterly ridiculously to something clutched in his palm. “An interpretive dance routine won’t get us out of here.”
He’s been like this for the entire time - it could’ve been hours, it could’ve been minutes - since you’ve been trapped here. All he’s done was rifle through a few files and snatch a few documents. And…this.
Hell- you didn’t even find your diamonds, yet.
“You think about ‘us’ a lot?”
Rolling your eyes- you can’t even bother with a scowl. Instead, turning back to spend your time planting CRASH! after CRASH! over his protests.
“Keep it down, sweetheart, I can’t-” Punching your way through even harder - making even louder noise, on purpose. “-hear-” Perhaps you could kill him before Naoya even gets here. “-the mic-”
“What?” You’re grunting, ears still ringing from the deafening noise yourself.
And just then you find your brows knitting together because Gojo Satoru looks so…satisfied. It strikes you to your very core. Which was definitely never a good sign.
Jumping down from the bookshelf in one, fluid motion, he shows off a tiny rounded gadget grasped in one hand. “You’ll see.” Gojo purrs at your questioning gaze, winking. “You’ll see very soon. We’ll be fine, promise.”
Yeah, you really didn’t like the sound of that.
But before you can swivel back to your target - you swear you were seeing a crack - Gojo’s tucking away the mysterious object into his jacket pocket and taking it off. Letting the silken fabric hit the floor with a dull schwf! Right along with his tie, his belt-
“Wh-what are you doing?” It comes out more breathless than you’d have liked.
“Changing into my supersuit, that’s what.” He lifts up his mask to roll his eyes, full and well knowing. The pinkish perk of his tongue drags a slow glide of wetness across his lips as he unbuckles his belt - looking you straight in the eyes. “Why? This turn ya on, sweetheart?”
“No.”
Yes.
Fuck, you hated how even despite turning away, you couldn’t help but angle your body just so that you’re ogling Gojo from your peripheries. You hated how every thud of clothes hitting the floor made a fresh new layer of goosebumps bead along your clammy, heated skin.
It was so hot.
“You should do the same– you must be getting warm with all that ruthless, blundering violence.” Comes the sing-song voice from behind you, oh- he was enjoying this. It sent Gojo’s heart racing to watch the way you were all flustered because of his actions. His body.
Scoffing, another punch. “You just want to see skin, lecher.”
“With a body like that- fuck yeah.”
“Save it for the wives of the bourgeoisie.”
“Scared, Prowler?”
Oh, for the love of-
“Not on your life, Nightwing.”
And then you do it.
You make the mistake of giving into your instinctual desire to glare at Gojo Satoru, as if your eyes never wanted to leave him. And then you see it.
All his long, tantalizing muscles and curves - being hugged so tightly in that black and blue suit that you could count every one of his eight washboard abs. Fuck. Gojo’s body seemed to go on for miles, pulling the latex tightly over his rippling flesh.
Right on cure, your eyes trail from the bulging valley of his pecs, to the ridges of his v-line to…you gulp.
You always did think it gave him an unfair advantage - just how sexy he was. It was one of the reasons he managed to distract you enough to lock you up in Gotham State Penitentiary last time, after all.
Tittering, “Take a picture it’ll-”
“Take this fist to your face.”
“Kinky~ it’ll only make me harder, y’know.”
Hard-er.
And all of a sudden it was as if the tension in the room was like molasses, and you were drowning in the saccharine concoction. Nightwing- Gojo really was too cocky for his own good, but what was even worse was he could back it up, too.
Your skin flares up with a burning breeze, and your voice comes out peaky. “Fine.” Through his mask, you swear his eyes widen once your hands fly up to take off your own. And then to the zipper of your gown, “But only because it’s so hot.”
Pulling it down just an inch before-
“Wait…let me?”
Just a flash of that glossy black suit of yours, just a single sneak-peek of it enveloping your skin and he was pressing you to the wall. Ravenous.
You were gorgeous.
Balmy heat of his body making yours sizzle up, all Gojo needs is only one of his massive palms to pin both your wrists wayyy above your head. Meaty thighs massaging up against yours to stop your jostling body.
Lips twitching up into a smirk at the carnal hunger in your eyes, “Let me…help with that, yeah?” His gravelly words resound in your eardrums and make your thighs squeeze. The fat fringes of his digits draw slow lines down the side of your figure, memorizing. “S’a hero’s duty, after all.”
You’re growling, “Do it. Do it if you’re not scar- ah!”
But that’s exactly what Gojo had been waiting for.
Exactly the moment to make your pretty voice break, exactly the moment for him to tuck a finger behind your back and all but rip–! your dress from the back.
“Would ya look at thaaaat-” He’s snickering out in awe as your flimsy gown falls halfway through tatters around you, all along with your dagger. Revealing a snug suit that makes his mouth simply water. All gorgeous lines of your body that he can’t get enough of. “Always fuckin’ hated this suit.”
His sinful pants strike you in gusts when Gojo leans his admiring head down, down, down to push right into the valley between your heaving tits. “Made me s-soooo fucking hard every time I saw ya in it.”
Did you just make Gojo Satoru stutter?
No wait- even better, was that achingly hard outline bumping right between your legs what you thought it was?
He’s rubbing the swollen outline of his mushroom tip at the target of your hot core, drinking in that cutely surprised expression on your face. Something devilish. “Oh~? What’s this? I-if this is what it took to shut that pretty mouth, I’d have done it sooner.”
But what he didn’t account for was the way that you would take the initiative shutting him up.
The way you would breach that almost-non-existent air between you two and crash your lips onto his. In French kiss so filthy that it makes Gojo moan–
“You’re better like this-” You spit between his strawberry pink lips, the taste of his bubblegum sweet taste now your most favorite. Cherry flavored, almost. “-when you shut up.”
In response, he’s nipping on your lower lip and draaaagging. Smirking at the adorable squeal that lets off from your ajar jaw, “Can’t even keep yer h-hands off of me, always knew you found me irresistible.” And Gojo doesn’t even need his other hand to entrap you now, pinning you with his muscled front. A sultry glissade of mere inches up n’ down up n’ down up n’-
You could tell that he was big.
So could that soft palm of yours, sneaking down to cop an agonizing feel of his rotund bulge. Fingers rovering generously along the damp crevice of his slit, “What was that?”
“Found me ir-re-sis-”
Harder.
“Shiiiit.” He hiccups, head swimming. “Suck- suck on my tongue.”
You do. Making Gojo’s eyes glaze over at the twist of your pillowy lips, making him rut-
“Fuckin’ dirty little thing.” The rough texture of his tastebuds swirl across your own, and even through his mask you swear he looked fucked-out already. Taking off his suave gloves, he leaves one spank on your thigh. Two. “Mmm- spread them f’me now.”
You’re snarling, despite the furious throb you feel from your leaking cunt. “Who’d ya think you are to ngh- boss me around?”
“Have it your way then, girl.”
And when he says that shit, he means it.
Before you know it, he’s sitting on the capped curves of his knees with a loud bam! You’re grimacing for but a mere split-second at just how much it must have hurt, before realizing that Gojo doesn’t care.
It’s the last fucking thing on his mind once he’s gliding an open, calloused palm underneath one of your unsteady legs and wrangling it on top of his sculpted shoulders.
You’re latching a hand through his soft, fawny strands with a yelp. “Asshole.”
“Witch.”
“Pussy.”
“Pussy, alriiight—” The borders of his short, manicured nails draw an invisible line down, down, down to coast the puffy fissure of your pussylips. Before pinching and tearing cleanly between the legs of your latex suit. Breathing deeply in- “There she is. Pretty girl…hey there, the name’s Satoru. I’m the stuff of your wettest dreams.”
You can’t even bite out a retort - a plea - before Gojo’s diving nose-deep allll the way into your drooling cunt. Nudging apart your gluey folds with his perky buttoned nose, lengthy tongue slathering your hole with a fat drag-
He’s basically glued. Addicted with only a single taste, and swerving his tongue to scratch up in solid, dizzying circles around and around your soppy entrance.
“Sh-shit-” Your thighs break out in jitters, and he only responds with a firm tug to interlock your craned limb ‘round his neck. Making your spine bend the perfect curvature off of the cool wall, “-more. More.”
SPANK!
The rims of Gojo’s fingers burn into the globes of your ass, and he’s so unrepentant about it. So smug. Making such a spectacular show of letting your globs of slick pour down his tongue.
Kiss-bitten maw hanging wiiidely agape to make you watch the thick rivulets of sap that hit the back of his awaiting throat. He’s dripping wet all the way down to his bobbing Adam’s apple, treacly splotches of juice hitting the floor in puddles.
Gojo gurgles out something feral, still mushing his pert maw to your wet mound so you’re feeling each n’ every vibration.
“Dooooown, kitty.” Another spank, and another steamy snog of his mouth. Though, this time he’s letting his pearly whites catch on your plumpened clit. Dangerously so. “Watch ngh- watch it, I bite.”
With a frustrated tut, you’re pushing his pretty features even deeper into your pussy. Making him pinch your sensitive nub between his teeth even harder. Slobbering a long drag from every inch of his pointed chin, to the very apples of his high cheekbones.
“Maybe m’into that…Satoru.”
“Oh- Oh.” Through the bleary gaps in your eyes, you’re noticing that Gojo was blushing. Bright. Red up to the tips of his ears. Burning skin chafing up into your own, and you’re practically melting at his heat.
That sound was like heaven to him. You were like heaven to him. And Gojo’s dilated irises hold direct eye contact with you once he’s digging his round fingertips roughly onto your asscheeks. Resonating out such saturated squelches after squelches as his tongue laps every nook and cranny. “You’re gonna get it- fuck, you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”
So many delirious moans rip out of you with every slash of his tongue, perking it in every right sensitive spot of yours - without even trying.
Mewling, “Toru- ngh- Toru.”
“Easy there, easy there.” He giggles out in a wet sputter right into your inner thighs, ragged voice all waterlogged with so many ounces of you and your sweet pussy. In the blink of an eye, you feel like you’re floating - only mere moments later do you realize that it’s because Gojo’s holding you up.
With only one hand.
Relieving you of any thought other than jerking your cunt repeatedly on top of his open mouth in a sultry tempo. Back and forth.
“Have no idea h-how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He spits into your weeping pussy - both literally and figuratively. Free hand darting upwards to push aside the glutinous barrier of your folds and spray it with a thick wad of spittle. Licking over the shiny sheen, “No idea. Always actin’ so ngh- high and mighty. Had to fuck my fist every time I fought ya, had to run off and- shiiiit cum to the thought of you all over my tongue.”
Gojo was babbling, and right now it was as if he started and couldn’t stop.
“Annoying fuckin’ girl.” He’s snarling, every syllable falling out before he can even think. The swollen point his thumb treks past your walls and catches on the fluttering orifice of your hole. “Ya just need to be eaten out reeeeal proper. Lemme show you how it’s done.”
Then you feel like you’re being split-apart, and you knew you were fucked.
Because Gojo’s fingers were both long and girthy.
Such a lethal combination that had you mussing up his silky bangs while you held on for dear life.
His barreling inches crawl right past that first cozy outer ring, showering it with such lustrous layers of pure, slippery need. Pushing and pushing until they’re skirting to thrash right into the bulging area of your g-spot.
And just when he’s pummelling your molten wall with a harsh strike, just when Gojo’s mouth parts at the pure ecstasy of finding it. Of how pretty you looked.
You’re letting your own, too, in a frail whimper. “Th-that all you got, Nightwing?”
“Ohhh, I love a woman that bullies me.”
All that Gojo whispers into your cunt - low, almost reverent - before his touch turns deadly. Cock aching painfully, thighs squeezing together until his pulsing, hot shaft gets squeezed.
You’re faced with the full force of his slick-covered fingers pumping direct hit after hit. Sending white-hot flashes of pressure straight from the stout ends of his fingerpads and right to your brain.
“That all I got? H-heh, that all I got-” He’s echoing your previous words like a mantra. Breaking. Octaves higher as if he was on the verge of laughing. “How fucking cute.”
“C-cute?”
“So fucking cute.”
“I-I’m not- fuck!”
Pinpointing his long index purposefully in a massage right up against your g-spot, like it was a button for him to toy and push.
Gojo’s smile leers ever-wider as he holds it there, listening to the way your moans pitch creakily. “What’s that?” And you’re barely spilling off a few more syllables in response before he angles his wrist deeper to push down even harder. Making your entire body shudder, “What’s that? Yeahh, s’what I thought.”
You were so tight around him that Gojo’s forcing himself to bite his driveling bottom lip to hold back countless embarrassing whimpers. Because you were clinging onto him like gum, tugging his fingers back into your boiling hot depths every time he’s reeling back.
And the problem with Gojo Satoru was that he couldn’t decide.
He wanted you. And he wanted it all.
Couldn’t stop from alternating between scissoring his dexterous fingers into every ridge and crevice of your goopy cunt, and making out with you like he was parched. Lolling his tongue like he was drunk- all over your swooping slit and rubbing in tiny hearts on top of your hooded clit.
“Need you. Need you s-shoooo fuuuckin’ badly.” He couldn’t even speak properly at this point. You’re flinching as a third finger slimily squirms inside your pussy. “Want it all.”
So fucking sloppy in ways you’ve never seem him.
Your dewdrops of slick coat the outside of his mouth and stick in delicate strings, growing thicker and thicker by the minute as he once more strikes your magical spot and makes your toes curl. Gasping, “Yeah- yeah, fuck. Take it, take it ngh- all, Satoru—”
You think you’re gonna snap.
“Upsie daisy.”
Basically being manhandled to lean your entire weight on his shoulders. You don’t think you’re even holding yourself up at all this point. Feeling every flex and ripple of the hero’s deltoids underneath your fleshy mounds.
You’re so loud - and not just from your mouth.
“Hell yeah. Talk t’me.” Juicy sloshes spring onto the edges of Gojo’s mouth after every gyration, practically devouring you. He narrows his lust-murked stare to your glistening hole, giggling - fucking giggling - at how your hips just can’t stay still. “She’s saying…ohhh she’s saying- saying she’s gonna be good f’me.”
You’re blinking down with dazed intrigue, watching with an empty head at the way that his motions only get faster. And faster.
Pupils sprinting allll the way to the back of your heavy lids, “Close. Think- think m’so close, Toru.”
“Ya think?” He muses, drawing a bold stripe up your bruised and battered g-spot. One so hard that it has the corners of your lips flooding with a bubbling torrent of saliva, it has your eyes shuttering- “Oh, girl– I know. You’re cummin’ already, sweetheart.”
Shit- you were? You were.
Head spinning, throat raw.
And you didn’t even realize it with just how fucked-out you were on his long, lecherous tongue. Rendering your head permanently dizzy with those vulgar patterns he was drawing with it, both inside and out.
Your goopy walls tingle with the force of your high, ears popping with the pressure of those startling peaks after peaks. Ones that Gojo drags out gladly.
“Cumming from the hah- the great Gojo Satoru, huh?” He’s groaning, tonality husked with a shiver of something predatory. Unstable. Needy. Smashing away over and over and over on your most tender spots, buzzing. “Cumming all over my mouth. Always was meant for this- meant for me.”
If you thought that the squelches from before were blasphemous, then you surely weren’t ready for the slurps that follow now.
So loud.
Slithering the curling tip of his tongue to slap down on your quivering entrance, he’s pounding your hole dually with a mean mouth and even meaner fingers. Merciless.
You’re cumming and cumming and he’s stringing you along with every explosive ram and suck. Tired fingers pulling out of your hole with a wet plop! and lurching down to squeeze his achingly hard cock. Grinding the fat of his palm over n’ over across his length-
“S-soooo sensitive—” You’re sobbing out, eyes leaking hot tears once the crescendo of your orgasm pulls taut, powerful tingles rushing from where Gojo was latching his neat teeth onto your clit and biting.
And not even wringing your fingers to scratch his scalp, not even draaaagging Gojo by his sweat-matted hair could get him to part.
He wasn’t done yet. No.
His chin hits the very back of your cunt as he targets your pussy with yet another viscous few wads of spittle. Scattering it all over your sloppy hole when he’d drunk up all your sweet sap and there wasn’t enough. “Wanna taste more o-of you. S’fuckin’ sweet, wanna taste more.”
Because to him it would never be enough.
Not even when you’d finally let your toes uncurl, not even when your cracked whimpers were turning hushed. Bated.
Not even when he finally breaks his kiss between your legs with one last looooong slurp. Well, multiple. Gojo simply kept parting and coming back every few seconds with the most vulgar kisses because it hurt him to leave the very same pussy he’s been dreaming of since the day he first met you.
“Fuck. Fuck.” Gojo seethes out through rough pants. The soppy thwack! of wiry ribbons of drool from both sets of lips smacking him in the face. It lacquers all over his prettily flushed face and makes a mess.
Yet, you think he’s never looked prettier.
And the only thing messier was that smile he was giving you - dopey, and crazed. With beads of syrupy slick hanging off of his cerise lips, “You…you got my mask all dirty, sweetheart.”
“Dirty” was an understatement.
Gojo’s black mask was drenched, soaked through until every bit of his milky skin touching it smeared with a shimmery lamination of sap. You’d done such a number on him that when he hooks a thumb underneath, it lets out the most sinful squelch!
“Hear that?” You’re watching, speechless, once he tugs it off haphazardly. Impatiently. Ethereal white locks splaying out and over like a halo, “That’s the sound of ya being eaten out reeeal good n’ proper.”
And when Nightwing takes his mask off, you have to blink.
Because you’d fully and completely thought that Gojo Satoru could never be prettier - but when he was like this? When you could finally see his face fully?
Shit, you’re feeling your heart hammer against your ribs with a painful ba-dump–! just by looking into his summer blue eyes. The cute blush painting his features even more evident, and you’re catching his nose crinkle.
You’re pushing back the stray twines of his bangs sticking onto his prespired forehead. A touch that makes him shiver, a touch that makes his hardened cock twitch in his supersuit. “Never put that on a-again, I swear.”
“Ate that pretty cunt out and you’ve hah- fallen f’me already, hm~?” He’s wriggling his pale brows, and the look in his eyes is so enchanted that it leaves you momentarily speechless.
If you’d fallen for Gojo now, then he had already fallen for you a long, long time ago.
You hand on his hair tightens, searing. Angling his handsomely pussydrunken face until he’s looking up at you, “And who was saying they’ve been hngh- dreaming of eating my ‘pretty cunt’ for ages now?”
“I…”
“Shut up.”
And when you tell him to shut up, he shuts up. For perhaps the first time in the twenty-something years he’s been terrorizing this Earth.
Oh, for just how famed Nightwing was for his reflexes, Gojo barely sees it coming when you’re pushing him onto the muggy floor and collapsing right on down with him. Feverish. Needy.
He was so fucking hard that you swear you could see the zig-zag of his inflated veins through that massive bulge. Through his clothes-
Seriously, you’re ripping through the tough latex-y fabric wrapping around his inner thighs with a smirk. If he got to rip your supersuit then you should only return the favor.
You can’t help yourself, the very tip of your mushy tongue drips with a few pearls of saliva with just how badly you wanted him in your mouth. You’d seen the way that Gojo was huffing and grinding his cock as much as he could when he was filthily making out with your cunt.
Judging by the way he was jolting and moaning at your every touch, you were surprised he didn’t cum just from-
Oh.
He did.
And from the startled look of awe on Gojo’s face, he didn’t realize he had, either.
“Oh?” You’re skimming the fat plane of your thumb over his leaky orifice right in the middle, bawling out thick ropes of creamy white which slipped n’ slid allll down your wrist in generous heaps. “A-and you called me ‘cute’.”
Shit, but you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know where to look.
True to his word, Gojo was big - more than big, actually.
His cock was oh-so-pretty, standing red and proud at something near nine or ten inches. Oodles of buttery seed dripping down the side and ready for you to lick up.
Nestled above breeder balls, he’s lightning bolted with fat, rosé veins you couldn’t wait to feel scratch up your insides. A girthy circumference that made your poor knuckles ache to wrap around, so needy that every throb made your wrist jolt.
So…sexy.
“Satoru…”
And something in your tone of voice seems to jolt Gojo into overdrive.
He’s letting his meaty thighs crack open, displaying you with the attractive ripples of muscle. “C’mon, sweetheart-” A large hand softly cups the back of your unsteady head, “-clean up this- this mess you made.”
If this was any other time, you might’ve snapped back something about it being the mess he made himself. If this was any other time, you might’ve teased him for the teary cracks shattering his words.
But right now, you were striking the bullseye of Gojo’s round, coral pink divot with a hefty dump of saliva. Thumbing it right over his weeping middle and lazing your tongue tenderly all down the grooves of his veins.
You could feel him throb and buck underneath you, so turned on that you could practically taste it.
“Gods. Fuck. Fuck, girl-” He’s spitting out through lowered lashes, watching your tongue flop out to lap ‘round and ‘round his mushroomy tip like your favorite lolly. “-like that. Just like that.”
Gojo tucks a thumb underneath the curve of your chin, prying your maw to fall open just enough so that he can tap-tap-tap his blushing, thick head on your tongue. So that he can spurt out a few more gumdrops of seed and watch them glisten all the way to your throat.
He’s watching you with an open mouth, “Oh yeah. Oh yeah, my girl. Now you’re gonna hah- take all of me, right?”
Your pussy twitches with interest at his words — “my girl.” And the only thing you can think to do is let your digits sift underneath his tender slit, grinning. “Make me.”
It’s all the confirmation that Gojo needs to lurch open your slobbering mouth even further and plunge his veiny cock into you. Hissing at the way your tongue drags underneath his sinking shaft, he burns red to the tips of his ears.
“N-now now, play nice and say ‘ahhh’—” Your mouth was so hot. And it was working so many wonders on his fat cock that it was forcing him to gasp out tiny sobs. “Take me- fucking- fucking take me or god help me-”
He didn’t even know what he was saying.
Never breaking sultry eye contact, Gojo’s swabbing his cum around your plumped lips like a whitish lipstain. Fucking up feverishly, his trickling tip hits the very bottom of your throat and stays there-
“Ya like that?” He’s snarling out, perfect teeth pulled back on full display. You’re moaning into his tufted, snowy-white pubes at the sight of his glinting canines. “‘Course you do, course you do. F-fuck don’t know how many ngh- time I-I’ve imagined this. All because of you, nasty girl-”
Without warning, he’s pinching your nose together and you whine in answer. Crescents of your nails clawing down red, red lines all over his toned abs, “Alright alright- ngh- mostly because of you.”
He lets go, finally. Snickering at the steady tears that fall down your cute face.
Fighting against his flapping lids to watch the way you’re bobbing your head in a primal cadence now. Your nose brushing up against his heated skin every time. A fat few rivers of drool find themselves glazing your lips, your chin, Gojo’s shifting pelvis in a puddle.
He was so hot and weighty inside, and your jaw was starting to ache just from the sheer bulky fatness. Your cunt leaking - bawling - at the way his ballooned-up veins rub against the roof of your mouth up n’ down.
“You and that damn suit n’ those damn eyes a-and that-” He bucks up, up, up, core tensing sexily each time. Smashing the rounded curve of his tight balls against your chin. “-damn mouth. Now mine, all mine oh—”
Your fingers just barely graze over Gojo’s plump sack, making his precious, pinkish skin wrinkle. Making him gasp- “O-oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck-” His head snaps upwards, eyes rolling to the very backs of his head. “-c’mere. C’mere.”
Maybe it’s because of the remaining aftereffects of your mind-shattering orgasm, maybe it’s because you wanted him so bad you couldn’t think; but you’re so pliable in Gojo’s big, strong arms.
He’s bending a few degrees to scoop you up in a mess of boneless limbs, all in one go. Sitting you all pretty and struggling to balance on his slender hips– his v-shape was mouth-watering.
And your thighs fit so perfectly snugly on either side, glissading your pussylips up and down on his cylindrical shaft. You’re riding all along his bumpy veins, head bobbing at every probing spiral that pokes past your folds.
“Fuck me.” Gojo whispers against your throat. Reaching over languidly to rip even more of his supersuit for you, all the way down his inner thighs, his chest, everywhere. For you to ruin. “Fuh-fuck me.”
Whining, “Give it- give it t’me, Toru–”
He blushes.
You didn’t know who was yearning for it more.
Gojo repeatedly spanks your slippery hole with the very rounded crown of his cockhead, sandwiching himself between your bloated lips. And the sight makes him grin, the sight makes him twitch- “Open. Open wiiiide, sweetheart. Tight fuckin’ thing.”
Your knobbly knees ricket as you splay them out shamelessly, “‘Nough teasing. Want it- a-and I want it now.”
Bratty girl.
Though, he always has loved that side of you.
And it’s exactly what makes Gojo depart his hips off of the ground in a sudden rut and fill you up to your brim. Just the plump circle of his tip mazing past your entrance enough to render you stupidly speechless.
You swear you hear him bludgeon just the few inches of his head into your channel with a wet plop! Before your ears ring with something even louder…even wetter.
“Fucking- shit shit shit-” You’re almost letting your mouth sing with a whimper once his gorgeous eyes shutter closed, a cute pout smearing over your face. Gojo’s shifting, he’s restless, he’s planting his feet firmly flat on the floor and bucking wildly. Through clenched teeth, “This is- all- your- fault.”
Suddenly, you’re feeling something warm and thick soaking through your walls. Slathering ribbons of liquid sloshing around your wet inners and mixing with the waves of your aroused slick.
Did he just…? Just from putting it inside?
And, really, you felt so heavenly inside - what was a man to do?
Your gooey walls molding around his length like molten gold, it was driving Gojo crazy until all he could do was wrap his arms around the small of your back as if you were his lifeline. Panting out cloudy breaths against your face, he stares deeply into your eyes and cums-
Your eyes flap open alertly, “T-Toru– did you just-”
“Shut up.” He’s huffing, gnawing on his wobbly lower lip like chewing gum. To shut you up, he’s shoving your face between the plummy cushions of his pecs. Grunting when your tongue comes out to suck his rose pink nipples. “I’m just- I’m- ngh–”
Just fucking his globular wads of seed until you were overspilling, is what. Pumping the bottom of your pussy so full that you’re feeling him smear sticky streaks down your cervix, the gluey-texture making your back arch for more more more-
“Can’t help that this p-pussy is so fuck- filthy.” He’s trawling out syllables from the back of his hoarse throat, a thin line of saliva leaking from one end of that fucked-out grin. Eyeing the plapping of his cum pouring in bucketloads out of you and onto his skin, “That you’re so…”
Can’t help that he’s been dreaming of this since forever.
Gojo didn’t have to say a word, because the massive puddle formulating from between your icing-topped folds was chatty enough. Really chatty, in fact, that the man finds himself nodding away blearily with every shrill squelch! from down below.
Humming, “Mhm— real t-talkative, aren’t you, pretty girl?” His pants puncture with a few breathless titters, watery gaze flickering between your sweaty face and where he was disappearing. Depraved. “Nicer than her, too.”
Lips falling into a partially-offended, partially-delirious oh! your brows furrow, “S-so mean. Don’t make me- ngh- don’t make me g-get off, Satoru.”
“Get off, huuuuh?” He’s drawling, hands pushing you down even further along his blushing red cock. You were so insistent and fiery, it made him so much fucking harder. And it was cute, the way you’re flinching when his tip throbs even fatter. “If you wanna ngh- tap- tap out, jus’ say so, my girl.”
“Never.”
“Never?”
Rolling those beautiful eyes of yours, “You’d tap out first.”
Fuck yeahhhhh, he was shifting his hips just a little to make you feel how much girthier you were making him. The clingy sides of your walls snatching on the way his crownhead pulls taut, stretching your innards to the very max. “No. You.”
He doesn’t know if you even realize just how much more damp you’re getting. A syrupy wet patch already formed and growing on his v-line, dribbling down to his twitchy balls. “Scared, Nightwing?”
“I’m not even trying, sweetheart.”
And with that said, only now do you realize just how true his words are.
Two impressive hands interlace on the crown of your sticky scalp, pushing you- bullying you down like some glorified ragdoll.
Your thighs twitch as if you were unsure whether to clench or spread. You can feel Gojo’s sweltering hot cock squeezing and squeezing his fully proud length inside of you - you didn’t even realize that he hadn’t bottomed out yet because he was simply so big.
But when he did finally fit all the way?
God, it felt like he was drilling his split-ended tip right into your lungs.
“There we go- thereeee we go.” Gojo breathes out thickly, and it felt like something leaden in his tummy was finally unraveling after all this time. Finally stuffed inside your pussy. “Knew you could t-take me- heh. S’biiig, isn’t it?”
Really big.
And every shallow bounce of yours made your pulse burst near your throat, stars sparking behind your burdensome eyelids when he pinpricks tiny speckles of pre on your most favorite spots.
“Yeah yeah- ride me.” He grapples at your scalp and pulls. “Fuckin’ ride me. S’all yours n’ I wanna see you ngh- milk it.”
“Gods- ohhhh gods.” You’re shrilling out in a strained pitch when he jerks upwards and clashes into your g-spot, your nails claw ragged lines on the carpet as if you’d just been thrown to the wolves. Stupid now. Hips jerking away from his tantalizing pace-
“No running.” Gojo spits, pained. One hand curling around your throat and dragging you down to smack the backs of your thighs against his weighty balls, the other cupping your face delicately. His long, textured tongue laps up the salty pearls of your tears with looooud slurps. “Wh-where the ngh- fuck do you think you’re going?”
You didn’t even have an answer because every possible one was being fucked out of you. Brutally.
One sharp jab. Two. Three into your tender alcoves and you feel like collapsing, your front melting into his toned one, drool spilling out in spit-loads.
It’s all you can do to gyrate your waist back and forth in sloppy circles to meet his pace. Looong figure eights that made Gojo’s thighs shudder, and your clit scratch his creamy happy trail. There were so many thorough inches being fed into your cunt, probing deeply. Over and over and over-
And no matter how full you were he’d keep rutting and rutting. Like he couldn’t stop. Rotund head sagging down your cervix to leave streaks of pre and he was still pushing.
Gojo bores up at you with glazed eyes, saliva-glistening lips parted ever-so-slightly while he pounded up into you as if in a daze.
You’re swearing his dilated pupils have formed into hearts- “Mmmm– love you, my girl.” He carries out a tender kiss on your forehead, and a rough squeeze on your throat. Jostling your lolling head back and forth ever-so-slightly, to dab his digits in a seeping puddle of slick and push past your lips. “Love fucking you. Being haaaaa– fucked by you…”
It’s not often that anyone can catch Gojo Satoru off guard.
But you’re not just “anyone.”
With your honed expertise, all it takes is one jackhammered thud! into the back of your pussy - two - before you’re flipping your ravenously glissading bodies over.
“Then f-fuck me properly, Toru.”
Maybe he heard your words through the static-y buzzing in his head, maybe he didn’t. Either way your tone makes something inside him twitch, full-bodied.
And you don’t think Gojo even registers it beyond a stuttered ohhh–! at first, you don’t think he even realizes the way he’s immediately sprawling you out flat on your back and bending you into a rude mating press.
Still not slowing down. Still not faltering.
Ah, you don’t know if you’re a genius or just plain stupid. Because you still manage to yelp, “S’that- s’that it?”
As if on primal instinct, he’s letting out a growl near your mouth. “Hah- haaah– Y’know…I-I’m reeeeal flexible, my girl.” Your calves burn with exertion once he throws them unceremoniously over his shoulders, core tensing in a way you can’t help but ogle. “Real flexible.”
At first you didn’t understand why he was telling you this. At first.
Before Gojo drags his large feet up, up, up until he’s planting them where you can see - sweaty thighs lugging forwards where he’s bending you in half and then some.
It was so cute how pliable you were underneath him, manhandled to every whim and want and need-
This brand-spanking new angle was everything.
Thrashing into your springy cervix - hard. Stretching out deeply-seated sweet spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. It makes you feel so fucking filthy at the sting of his papping balls bruising your ass like never before.
And his tip is so greedy, feeling the swashing splash of his own seed dripping all over your walls and still bursting to erupt with more. He could tell he was close, aligning himself to crash into his favorite target of your g-spot.
“Fuck–” Your mindless legs threaten to close - not that he would ever let them. “So much. Fuck me, p-please.”
“What was that?”
“Please…”
“What was that?”
“Please!”
Gojo’s hunched over, seethingly red in the face. Ivory bangs half-way covering his intensely half-lidded stare, stray spatters of perspiration hit your chest like bullets.
“Gonna ngh- fuck you properly.” He spits, hands ghosting over your tummy - namely that globed bulge he was fucking into you. A mere nudge of it with his thumb leaves Gojo’s breath leaving his lungs in a sizzling woosh! Sculptured chest vibrating, “Gonna breed you properly. Gonna…”
You’re flinching when fingers waft over your nubbed clit, the stark volts of electricity prompting your ass to hit back even rougher against his sharp pelvis.
“Want it, Toru.” Wobbly arms wrapping around his flushed neck to pull him in close. He looks at you lovingly, while he fucks you like he hates you. “W-want you to ngh- breed me.”
And that does it - for the both of you.
Gojo Satoru’s breath hitches with a cry, balls achingly tight. Needy. “Gonna make you m-mine.”
Running headfirst into your highs, it hits you like a tidal wave. You don’t know where you’re seeing white from; the flurries of stars speckling your vision, or from the torrents of cum Gojo pours out past your sloppy entrance.
“Your p-pussy–!” Gojo bursts, drilling into you as if he was crazed. Fat tip swirling around your pretty insides with decorative ribbons of pure white, his cum seeps into you thickly and you swear you can feel him well up the door to your womb. “O-ohhhh your pussy your pussy your- p-pussy, takin’ me so well.”
“Fuck me-” You tug on his pink lips with your teeth and it makes Gojo empty out another few webbed streaks of sap into the bottom of your pussy with a thud! Brows furrowing, “Deeper.” Even though he was so deep you think you might burst. “Harder.” So hard you felt raw. “More.”
You were already overspilling, the throes of your burning hot orgasm just barely letting you register the splat-splat-splat of his cum pumping in n’ out of you.
Two of his slender fingers urgently scoop those few escaping globs back through your pussylips, Gojo’s girth so wide that he doesn’t even have to try to plug you full and tight.
“A-all safe and sound.” He’s patting at the cumflated outline on your tummy, cylindrical and round. Your walls were so plump and tight with him that just the simplest dig had you squealing. “A-all…”
And Gojo looked like he could purr if he could.
All fucked out and satisfied, the pussydrunken grin on his face seemed permanent - and so was that tender glint in his eye. Peeking up at you through long lashes, he leans his head over to listen to your juddering heartbeat, “All mine.”
Your tummy lurches, and you find yourself smiling before you can stop. But it’s not like you wanted to stop.
In fact, you didn’t want to stop at all.
“That last one’s a tie.” Your voice scratches the favorite crevices of Gojo’s brain; so mushy and melted that it takes a long while before his lips drop into an understanding oh! You sweetly peck his lips, “Rematch, Nightwing?”
Fuck.
His poor, overworked cock twitches.
Fuck.
And of course, it was a rematch with the two of you.
Of course, the one rematch turned into two. Into three. Into four. Into- you’d lost count after five, and you were sure right now that you couldn’t even do any maths past that.
After breaking Naoya Zenin’s loveseats, after splitting his desk literally in half. Eventually, you’d either forgotten about the man himself and your fate, or you just didn’t care. You were so fucked dumb that all you can cry is a broken, “Sa-to–ru!”
Because if there was one thing that Batman taught in his rigorous training scheme, it was stamina.
Gojo was taking you from behind right now- well, that was being generous.
He was slumped down over you until his abs were liquefying down your arched spine, head buried deep into the clammy crook of your neck. Swirling his sensitive cock all around your tenderized insides, thighs trembling where he was pinning the both of you down onto the floor. Too sloppy and fucked to even try anywhere else.
“M’here—” Gojo drawls out, heavy tongue stumbling over the sounds. He pats the cute tummy bulge that he’s responsible for first, and then your gushing pussy. Pulling you to him, he really was acrobatic, “M’here. Toru’s h-here, my sweetheart.”
Fuck- those last two words make him jetstream out a sweltering few beads of seed. He couldn’t even cum properly anymore.
Driving into you until every voluminous mass in his body was now packed intensely between your snug walls, he shifts inside of you with a sloooow gyration and feels the knotted mess he’s made.
“My sweetheart–” Gojo’s biceps bulge where he’s shoving your head into the soft carpet, into the pond of saliva that just won’t stop leaking from your parted mouth. His words depart in a cracked plea, “My girl.”
“Y-yours.”
Maybe you’re cumming, maybe you’re not - you don’t even know, at this point.
Half-lucidly aware of the faint tingles shooting up your spine, and making your temples throb. Gojo himself feels out of control, hips reeling back, back, back to slam into your jiggling ass.
He’s pawing himself a rough handful of your fleshy mounds once he throws his head back and lets his aching shaft jolt. Straight from his drenched base, all the way to his overstimulated tip- exhausting out one bead of pre. Two.
Before Gojo cums dry.
“O-oh.” His teeth snag near your pulse, wet splatters of tears soaking your skin. Something animalistic twinging at the back of his cottony mind at the way you literally milked him until he was dry. Despite himself, he laughs. High-pitched. Crazed. “S’a- tie- s’a tie, I went e-easy on you…”
Somehow, you’re managing a grin. “My hero~”
And Gojo was just about to open his mouth - maybe to counter back something nonsensical, maybe to ask for a rematch over n’ over until he passes out.
But what happens instead is that overly familiar metallic gate explodes open.
You have to blink away the clingy fog in your eyes in alarm, and you’re embarrassed to admit that it took longer than you thought. Dammit, he really did win that last round- ah, rematch.
Still stunned, you can barely even dredge up some semblance of dignity as a towering man in a red helmet and skin-tight black suit walks in. Past his sexy biker vest, and those muscles upon chiseled muscles, you think you see- yeah, it really is. A red Batman logo.
Red Hood.
A low snicker sounds from underneath his mask, swiftly being taken off to reveal a man so pretty that you feel your jaw slacken.
He runs a hand through silky, waist-length black hair, amethyst eyes glinting with amusement and something…more as he takes in the sight. Long lashes fluttering, he lets go of a specialized machine gun you assume was used to break down your cage. “Yo, Satoru.”
“Suguru.” Gojo gruffs out in a condensed gasp, though he makes no move to stop. None at all. Still balls-deep, and rubbing his tip down your spongy cervix. “Wh-what- fuuuck, don’t squeeze like that, my girl- took ya so ngh- long?”
Red Hood- Suguru, waves his other hand airily, only then do you see the knife clutched in it. The extremely…bloodied knife. “Ah, y’know~ Had to clean up some messes. Toji wanted revenge on the Zenins, the usual family drama.” Eyes flashing, “He’ll be up once he’s done to ah…join us here.”
Oh god, was the entire Bat Family here? You get the distinct feeling that this was not just “usual family drama.”
But you can’t say a word when the other man bores his piercing gaze onto you next. Tone smooth and syrupy, “So…Prowler, I’m assuming, by the ripped up costume?”
You feel your skin heat. “The one and only.”
“Geto Suguru, gorgeous.” He pulls out a tiny spherical gadget that looked exactly like the one Gojo had been toying with hours- days? ago. “I already know your name, Toji and I heard it over and over. Which, by the way, you should remind that idiot Satoru to turn his microphone off.”
Ah, that explains a lot. And wait- it was on this whole time?
Shit.
While Gojo only huffs out a pant of laughter, planting yet another deep jackhammer into you, you feel the apologies bubble to your lips. That is, until-
“Unless you want someone to feel…” Geto licks his lips slooowly, bangs swooning over his sleazy gaze. You watch with widened eyes as a hand falls to his bulky belt, carnally. “-left out.”
A/N. Mhm what happens when ya let a girl listen to Nightcrawler.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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#mha truesona (hes me when i was 14)#he doesnt realize hes a trans man yet but if you ask him what his pronouns are he'll tell you “i dont have pronouns” or “whatever you want”#he thinks he's ace/aro because hes bisexual and thought feeling the same way about boys and girls meant#he didnt feel love at all#when really he just didnt realize that wanting to have sex and live with your friends wasnt. an ace+aro experience.#(CPTSD + CSA victim that was exposed to sex way too early and hates himself for it)#his quirk is stress related#nott sure of the specifics yet but!! im working on it. hes a business course student at UA and will fail out of his sophomore year#also he has an adams apple because i had one when i was 14. and bushy eyebrows and body hair#baby charles was malnourished and anemic so he was really androgynous#his story is about healing and learning about himself and how to treat others appropriately
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❝DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY!❞
⏯ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER
⏭ summary: your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? college au.
⏭ cw: virgin!satoru, gentle sex then rough sex , spanking (ass & pussy), slight sugar daddy/baby dynamic, coercion, dubcon, ecchi/pervy/freak nasty satoru, apprehensive bimbo!reader scared to nut, reader is also a bit of a tsundere brat but this isn't brat taming per se, oral fixation, toe licking, riding, prone bone, missionary, pussy eating, deep-throating, forced gagging, fingering, squirting, edging, olfactophilia, hand-job, protected & unprotected sex, bdsm references, masturbation, bit of somnophilia, pet names: Bunny (reader is called that in lieu of y/n), suggestions of geto x reader, mentions of satosugu and shokohime.
⏭ a/n: in my crack smut bag again cause this white haired demon wont let me rest until i write this nasty shit. fr tho this fic 13.3k and literally 10k of it is Gojo fucking you six ways to sunday. fyi this is the same y/n from nerd!geto but this is a different version of that AU where suguru is the one who has rizz and satoru is the nerd. y'all better read this or i'll never write gojo again istg lmfao. also shoutout to @halosdiary for beta reading and telling me it was good enough to post lol.
eta: y'all won. its a series now lol
“FUCK YEAH, LET’S GO!!! I ALONE AM THE CHAMPION OF THE DIGITAL WORLD!!!”
Startled by Gojo’s sudden outburst—you nearly rolled off the bed.
Thankfully Suguru is sitting next to you and caught you before you fell off completely.
Fully energized by his win Gojo sprang up from his elaborate PC setup, bouncing around the room in celebration. Fist-pumping the air he couldn’t contain his excitement after winning the Tokyo Regional Qualifiers for the Digimon Online TCG.
“Guys, hey guys! See! I told you I’d win! I’m the strongest! The digidestined!”
You and Suguru exchanged exasperated glances before side-eyeing the hell out of Gojo.
This went on for a good 10 minutes so you had since returned to mindlessly scrolling TikTok, not wanting to encourage your grown-ass-almost-22-years-old-best-friend’s excitement over a children’s game.
“You sure showed those middle schoolers, Toru.”
Suguru quips with a smile. He’s clearly being sarcastic but Gojo is unfazed—nothing could damper his mood.
“Damn straight I did!”
Both you and Suguru have to chuckle, rolling your eyes at his childish enthusiasm.
Despite the shared sentiment of annoyance over your best friend’s hobbies, you both were just happy to have Gojo back again. Two long years had passed since his parents made him travel the world on a rotation program, tasked with visiting the various Six-Vision Industries offices he would one day inherit.
Being the nerdy genius he was, Gojo stacked a mass of university level credits in high school. So even with missing the first two years of college he’d still be joining you as a third year at your university come fall.
After being apart for so long it was refreshing to hang out again and kicking it at Gojo’s mansion had been a daily occurrence since the start of the summer. Although things had definitely changed in the two years Gojo had been away there was one thing that certainly hadn’t.
Gojo was still a fucking huge otaku nerd.
You’d thought his time spent in the business world would have matured him. However, being abroad, away from his friends and spending all day around the ‘stinky old fogeys in suits’ as he called them, only made him retreat further into otakudom.
That much was evident as his collection of posters, figures and manga had somehow only seemed to grow even with him away.
“Alright, while I just would love to stick around and hear more about you destroying the dreams of 12 year olds Toru—beach girl just texted me, gotta bounce!”
Suguru tries to leave but Toru clings onto him practically spider monkeying himself onto his back in an effort to get him to stay.
“Sugu! Don’t leave! We’ve already been apart from each other for too long~~”
Sighing, Suguru attempts to pry his incorrigible bestie off of him.
“Satoru, you just spent the last 5 hours playing Digimon acting like me and Bunny weren’t even here. I’m sure if you go back to playing you won't even miss me.”
Gojo continues to pout as he whines for Suguru to stay.
“But I miss you already Sugu!”
Gojo presses his cheek against Suguru’s as Suguru’s eyebrow begins to twitch.
“I know! Invite your date here! Our chef is 10 times better than any restaurant you’d go to and you know we have an infinity pool grotto and onsen!
While the offer was tempting as any potential date would be thoroughly wowed by the decadent splendor that was the Gojo Family Residence—Suguru would also thoroughly cuck himself once his date was given the grand tour.
Particularly the stop which included Gojo’s anime figure and otaku memorabilia rooms.
While a good number of them were harmlessly nerdy shonen or slightly ecchi isekai figures—the rest? Well the rest contained every kind of freak nasty hentai figure you could think of—shibari, futanari and even the classic La Blue Girl tentacle dioramas—it was like a horny museum.
Although at this point it should be considered a horny mausoleum as no woman who walked in would be walking out still in the mood—it was surely a place where horny went to die.
“Uh yeah, sure next time Toru….”
Suguru reaches back to pat Gojo on the head reassuringly.
Lying as he was more than certain there wouldn’t be a next time. There wasn’t even going to be dinner—this was purely a hookup situation.
“...but she’s already waiting for me outside my place—gotta run!”
Realizing Gojo still wasn’t letting go, Suguru sighs realizing this would require him utilizing his Judo training.
In one swift movement, Suguru manages to shoulder-wheel Gojo and toss him onto the other side of his massive bed. The bed rebounds as he lands, slightly lifting you off your belly but you still are more interested in your phone.
This isn’t the first time Suguru has Judo thrown Gojo off of him (likely wouldn’t be the last either).
Saying quick goodbyes before Gojo could recover, Suguru manages to slip away.
“Traitor!!! So much for bros before hoes!”
Utterly dejected, Gojo crawls up next to you on his massive bed.
“At least I still have you here Bunny.”
“Uh, not to pile on but you know I’m only here until Shoko and Utahime text me they are ready to go to the mall, right? I’m in dire need of a new handbag!”
Now clinging on to you Gojo throws another small tantrum as the weight of half his sinewy body presses into your back, his lean muscular arms wrapping around your shoulders.
“Not you too, Bunny puhleeease!”
You’ve known each other since you were in diapers so it wasn’t odd for you, him or Suguru to be found giving the others platonic cuddles like this—often all together too. The both of them were always so much bigger than you so you often enjoyed the comfort and security of always being the filling in the cuddle sandwich.
Gojo rests his chin on your shoulder watching as you continue scrolling TikTok. You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before his irritatingly hyperactive nature gets the best of him, and he starts poking around your phone to click on other videos that weren’t the 'mystery and makeup' ones you were watching.
“Toru, you know you could get a lot of your own hoes to hang out with if you weren’t such a huge otaku nerd…”
You had to swat Gojo’s hand away again as he tries to click on another prank video and he rolls off of you with a frustrated sigh.
“...you’re almost as good looking as Suguru…”
Muttering the last part of that under your breath. Arguably Gojo’s features were just as if not more striking than Suguru’s.
He was too hot himself for all of it to go to waste for being such a big dork.
“I’m sure Sugu would be happy to teach you ‘the way of the fuckboy’ if you asked Toru—that is if you’d actually go out clubbing like a normal 21 year old.”
“Why would I do that though? My house is 100 times better than a club!”
Touché.
While no one in your friend group was what someone would consider poor, Gojo’s wealth paled in comparison to anyone else’s and that went without saying. He’d had everything—if not more—than even the nicest tokyo club had. This was all thanks to his parents as socialites in their own right, often entertaining businessmen, dignitaries or foreign representatives with their ultra-exclusive parties.
“Besides, it wouldn't work—”
Gojo continued to pout.
“—Suguru would just get all the hoes anyway.”
Easily able to walk up to even the most standoffish looking women, Suguru would have them reduced to bashful school girls in under 5 minutes. The women were always willing to hand over their numbers or drop any immediate plans to hang out with Suguru instead.
A good number of them had boyfriends already too.
Yet despite having the looks, Gojo opening his mouth ruined any advantage his lustrous blue eyes, exotic snow white hair and sharp handsome features gave him.
“Well, Suguru has a normal 21 year old’s room for starters, Toru. Not full of nerdy ass anime posters and Digimon tournament trophies.”
Gojo goes quiet.
Driven from an early age to fill his head with knowledge of politics, technology, and international business relations, he spent the precious free time he did get with his friends or consumed by his own interests. Interests which just happened to be a bunch of otaku shit—Digimon in particular.
It was an escape he’d cherished as a child and that didn’t change growing into adulthood either, if anything he needed it more now.
When Gojo doesn’t answer you look over to see him actually sulking for real now—face buried in a giant Agumon pillow plushie.
What a crybaby.
But the crybaby was one of your besties so you decided to lighten the mood and tease him a little.
“Ya know Toruuuu….you could just fuck Sugu then. Don’t think I haven’t seen y’all get a lil’ handsy during our cuddles!”
You give him a playful smirk and mime grabby hands at him.
“Oh and you haven’t? Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck Suguru either!”
No longer appearing mopey, Gojo is up and laughing again. Mission Accomplished.
“Hey! I never said I wouldn’t but this isn’t about me, this is about you finally getting some play!”
You snap back but you’re blushing.
Like damn, who hadn’t thought about fucking Suguru though?
“It's not the same if he makes me bottom! Plus no one thinks I can get pussy!”
Gojo grumbles, hugging his Agumon plushie to his cheek.
You can’t help but notice how cute and baby girl he looks all pouty.
He’d definitely get women lining up around the block of his huge ass mansion if he could at least get to the dating phase without giving out the otaku ick.
“Because you can’t Gojo—Hoes don’t want to fuck guys who play Digimon!”
“But you’re a hoe and you like digimon too!”
Turning to look at him, you’d had half a mind to slap the shit out of Satoru but he had said it so earnestly. There was no sass nor malice behind his words.
Besides, you were a hoe. That wasn’t something you ever denied.
You sigh.
“Yeah I am a hoe now and I—keyword—liked Digimon. But that was back when I was a kid, Toru!”
Gojo scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“Listen, you’re my friend so m’gonna keep it a buck with you—a guy concerned with being digidestined is definitely not pussy destined, you digidork!”
You playfully hit him with the pillow you were laying on, not wanting him to start sulking again.
Finally stimulated by something interesting Gojo wastes no time joining the pillow fight you initiated and you tussle with him on the bed until you both are exhausted and out of breath.
Of course you come out of it victorious though. By the end you’d pinned both the pillows and Toru under you.
Gojo however is back to pouting.
“Ugh, Bunny seriously though—I can’t go into junior year of college as a virgin!”
You smirk at his complaints as the answer is obvious.
“Throw away your figures and digimon cards then.”
“I’d rather die.”
“A virgin? At this rate you will.”
Gojo huffs in defeat as you settle comfortably on top of him this time.
You’re about to reach for your phone again until you see a curious look flash across his face—the kind of look he always had as a kid when he thought of a hair-brain scheme that would lead to getting you all in trouble.
“Toru—what is it? And why do I have the feeling m’not gonna like it?”
You pull away cautiously, but his large hands grip your waist, stopping you and causing you to squeak in surprise.
“Hm, I dunno—was just thinkin’... why don’t you fuck me, Bunny?”
Your deadpan expression has Gojo scrambling, holding you closer in a vice grip when you try to squirm away.
“Hey! Wait, I’m serious! Come on, Bunny! I need the experience and you always tell us about all your hookups! You have the experience—help a guy out!”
Staring at him skeptically you considered.
I mean sure, you always thought Gojo was attractive, more so since he returned this summer nearly a half a foot taller—but he was Gojo Satoru.
Your dorky, goofy, pervy otaku bestie practically since birth!
You couldn’t just go and fuck him could you?
God, you could only imagine the taunts you’d get if word got out. Your friend group would never let you live it down!
“Nah Toru—that would be too weird!”
“Huh, how come? You said I was almost as attractive as Suguru earlier!”
You stiffen.
Fuck, he’d heard that after all.
“Ooo, ooo! Annnnd, you said last week you wanted a sugar daddy… Well, hi! I’m right here!”
The huge grin on his face has you frowning although more so because he was actually making some sense for once. I mean you were half-joking when you said it—well, let’s be honest not really.
However, you mostly said it because while your family was well off enough, you still weren’t living in the lap of luxury by any means like a Gojo clan member. Unfortunately for you though, you were born with the expensive tastes of someone who was. So while you could afford a cute Chanel bag or a MCM wallet here or there, you’d set your sights on something higher—a coveted Hermes Birkin.
Toru certainly could afford to buy you a whole truck load of them with what his family made in less than an hour.
Nevertheless that wasn’t really the issue at hand.
In spite of you being far from a virgin, there was actually a good reason why you wouldn’t be a good choice for Gojo to lose his v-card.
“Er, em—that’s really not the issue, Toru…”
Trailing off you’re the one pouting now as you glance at your nails.
“Then what? Don’t tell me our lil’ Bun Bun is shy now? Over lil’ ol’ me?”
Gojo teases you by sticking out his tongue—chuckling when you snap your head up to glare at him.
“You wish…”
You grumble, chewing your lip now and debating whether or not to tell him the truth while Gojo looks at you with wide and glassy puppy eyes. Shaking your head you come to the conclusion you could trust him with your secret.
He was the virgin otaku after all—he’s the one who should be embarrassed here!
“It’s just that…I–I can’t cum.”
Gojo just blinks at you.
Clearly confused with metaphorical question marks surrounding his head as that's definitely not the answer he was expecting.
“I’ve slept with plenty of guys before but I never had an orgasm. I don't even really get close—I mean, sure, it feels good, I guess—mostly just a little weird. I heard some people just can’t and maybe that's me.”
You shrug, a bit nervous to look Gojo in the eye as you thought he may tease you further about this but was lost in contemplation. Almost as if he was seriously trying to do the biological math around what you’d just told him.
After about a minute more he finally asks—
“—Does Suguru know?”
A simple question, unloaded in tone as Gojo is genuinely curious but it leaves you flustered nonetheless.
“What?! Are you crazy?! Why would I tell him?!”
“Just figured if anyone could then—”
“—Hell no, Toru! Besides, what if he does? I’m not trying to be reduced to a fuckboy’s pick me if he ends up being the only man alive who can give me an orgasm!”
Sure Suguru was hot as fuck—as was a lot of your other fuckboy friends (Toji and Sukuna)—but you definitely didn’t want to end up like the dickmatized girls that would follow them around and literally box each other in the streets over some cock.
You weren’t much of a fighter anyway and your face was far too cute to be getting scratched up.
Pussy should be put on a pedestal, not the other way around. You’d continue to be orgasmless before it came to that.
“Mm, but Shoko and Utahime know?”
You’re blushing more than ever this time.
“Um, yeah—T-They said once I realized all men were worthless to call them and they’d give me multiple of them.”
Gojo snorted at that but he was now convinced you both could help each other.
“So we have no other options—then it's settled!”
In one fluid motion Gojo snatches away the pillows from between you and swaps positions—now with you on the bottom.
“Huh–wait—Toru!?”
Gojo groans.
“Come on, Bunny! I want pussy, you want to cum on top of getting that Bikram bag—
“—Birkin bag.”
You corrected him.
“Yeah that one! So let’s help each other out, eh? PULHEEEASEEE—Just the tip?”
You weren’t at all convinced that Gojo—whose sexual knowledge came purely from JAV, hentai and onaholes—could make you cum.
But then again sure, fuck it, why not?
You were getting bored waiting for Shoko to call you anyway and if Toru was willing to come off a Birkin for a lil’ pussy, you might as well fuck him.
None of the other guys you had fucked even came close to making sex this worth it. Frankly this would be worth it even if you didn’t actually cum.
“Fiiiine Toru, let’s have sex—”
“FUCK YEAH!”
“—BUT we’re laying down some ground rules!”
Sitting up with a straight back, Gojo obediently awaited your orders.
“Anything you want Bunny, name 'em go���on!”
Gojo’s overenthusiasm was like a puppy and you were sure if he had a tail it would be thumping on the bed like crazy now.
You wanted to crack a smile but you know from prior experience that if you give men an inch they will take the whole goddamn mile—and Gojo of all people was no exception—so you are firm as you sit up to look in his eyes and lay down the law.
“First—like you said, just the tip.”
Gojo started to protest but the raise of your eyebrows had him changing his tune immediately.
“Got it! Got it! Just the tip would be amazing Bunny, what else?”
He chided himself and you continued.
“And secondly, just because you bros have no loyalty, it’s still ‘chicks before dicks’ over here. You better get your nut quick cause I’m still leaving to go purse shopping when Shoko and Utahime call me.”
Gojo waves you off with that rule.
“Psh, we should have plenty of time, it's almost 6pm! They’ve probably been too busy bumping their own purses together to go shopping with you for one. You haven’t heard from either of them in hours!”
Fair point—wildly out of pocket, but fair.
Still.
“Bumping Purses!? Really, Toru?”
“You know I’m not lying—but that’s it then, right Bunny?”
Not waiting, Gojo throws his shirt off and starts fumbling with the ties on his sweats before you stop him.
“Nah, Toru, hold your horses! One more rule!”
Freezing mid-action, Gojo's hands are shaking as he expectantly gazes at you, waiting for the last condition before you give him the green light.
“Finally, third—and most fucking importanly—if you make any, and I mean even just ONE—otaku reference, especially Digimon while you’re inside me I’ll snap your lil’ digidick off, understood?”
Gojo swallowed.
Hard terms to live with but something he would be willing to abide by for pussy.
“Yes ma’am! Got it! Just the tip, you will ditch me for the purse bumpers and no Digimon!”
Gojo repeats your rules matter-of-factly.
You roll your eyes but are satisfied enough he understood and you wave him off in the direction of your bag.
“Good. Now, be a good boy and go get a rubber out of my purse.”
Bolting over to your purse Gojo grabs a pack of condoms and is back on the bed in an instant.
Reality sinking in on what you were about to do and who you were about to do it with, you suddenly become hyper aware, appraising Gojo.
You note just how much in the two years since high school he’s grown. Still a bit lanky in areas but overall he filled out more for sure and his muscles were much more defined rippling underneath his skin as he eagerly clambered over you. Gojo still possessed the same piercing sky blue eyes that lit up a room but they looked all too predatorily hungry now that he was hovering over you.
You swallow.
You’d feel almost completely out of control of the situation if it wasn’t also for the bundle of nervous energy radiating off of Gojo—his hands spasming like he might bust his pants the moment he touches you.
You try to maintain your composure, but your jaw drops and your eyes widen in shock when he finally pushes his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion.
Gojo was fucking huge!
“Toru—what the actual fuck?!”
Third leg was a massive understatement.
I mean you didn’t think he’d be small—you’d been around him enough in boxers, sweats, pjs, etc growing up—but you didn’t expect this.
He was definitely a grower and Christ did he just fucking grow!
Gojo looked puzzled until he followed your wide eyed gawking down to his lower half.
Heh.
“Am I the biggest you’ve seen, Bunny?”
Growing prideful Gojo pokes at you a bit and your ogling only grows more incredulous.
You didn't know if he was the girthiest but certainly the longest by far. He’d actually puncture a lung if he stuck that whole monstrous thing in you!
It would literally have to be just the tip and you are thanking God right now that he’d already agreed to those terms. That would be much too uncomfortable to cum from and you are beginning to question how the pornstars manage. This wasn’t a JAV but Gojo, if his company ever went belly up, certainly had a promising career on OnlyFans ahead of him.
Gojo’s chest puffed up ten times more from your staring as he slipped the condom on (which only fit two-thirds of the way down).
“O-Ok, Bunny now you!”
His cock throbbed more violently the longer you looked at him. The anticipation is contagious to say the least and you can't help but feel your chest warm at his eagerness.
Gojo wants to get the attention off of him and you smile at him knowingly.
“You mean you don’t want to take my clothes off yourself?”
The thought never occurred to Gojo but he dumbly nodded. Your yelps echo in the room as his massive hands are on your hips faster than lighting pulling you towards him.
The motion causes your tits to jiggle, the soft mounds moving freely beneath your spaghetti strapped halter and Gojo berates himself on how he only now is noticing you weren’t wearing a bra all this time.
Gojo’s mouth goes dry at your nipples, already peaked and poking through the thin fabric.
Your nipples pucker further when the crisp air of the A/C hits them after Gojo pulls your top overhead and you arch up to assist, not realizing you presented yourself to him like a treat to a dog.
“T-Toru!!!!”
Gojo wraps his strong sturdy arms fully around your body. Pressing his face deep into your chest as his warm wet lips latch onto a nipple. His mouth now suctioned to you, Gojo swirls and flicks his tongue around the hardened bud. Gojo moans around your flesh, pleasantly surprised at how addicting the sweet salty taste of your skin is.
If Gojo wasn’t sure he had an oral fixation before he surely knows now. Zoning out everything else except for the sloppy sounds of him worshiping your breast, he relishes the contrasting textures of his rough tongue suckling the soft skin of your swelling bud.
Gojo surely would have been latched onto you for hours and you are only able to pry his head away when he releases your nipple with a wet pop to take a breath.
“TORU!!!”
You’re panting and red faced as you yank his head back.
But Gojo is a man solely focused—tongue hanging out off his mouth captivated by how cutely your areola puffed as it glistened with his spit and fighting overwhelming desire to get the other one in a similar state.
“Huh–Bunny, b-baby—you taste so good n’ your tiddies are so nice—so fuh-kin’ soft.”
Gojo’s tongue is hanging out of his mouth drooling as he attempts to dive back into your chest. you feel his heavy cock on your thigh as his hips begin to rut against you.
This was too much!
“Stop Toru! You’re being too rough, they are sensitive! Besides, times’ ticking! Remember I have no problem leaving you blue balled if Shoko or Utahime call me!”
You do your best to give him a disapproving look as you blush.
“Awe but you seemed like you were liking it, you were whining loud enough.”
“Shut up n’just get on with it!”
“Yes ma’am~~”
Enjoying your breasts so much Gojo almost forgot he hadn’t even seen your pretty pussy yet.
Making quick work of your shorts, Gojo manages to pull them down just over your core but is stunned once again as he burns the image of the skin-melding fabric of the mesh hot pink g-string covering your cunt. The thin satiny straps dug into your supple hips amplifying your curvaceous form.
Fucking slutty as hell!
Rivaling that of even his most favorite and most scandalous hentai figures.
This was so much better, so much more lewd as the clingy fabric struggles to cover the fat of your plump pussy lips—not like the transparency of them left much to the imagination.
God help him, he just wants to tear them off with his teeth and open mouth swan-dive into your dewy lil’cunt—-pushing his tongue deep into your peachy core tongue fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you until he drowned in your milky nectar—but he has to restrain himself.
You probably wouldn’t like that too much given your reaction earlier and he’d die if you’d happen to just call the whole thing off.
Mouth drying and hands twitching—Gojo is trying so hard to be a good boy and contain his more perverted instincts.
“Earth to Toru! Y-You good?”
Gojo looked like a tightly wound coil ready to pop in every sense of the word and you hated that his nervousness was making you nervous too.
So on edge you almost jumped once his eyes snapped up to meet yours.
“G-Great, Bunny…j-just fine.”
Gojo’s voice falters, becoming more pitchy and you giggle. As much as Gojo wants to look at your pussy as he peels the flimsy moist fabric off of them he couldn’t do that at this moment—he would actually bust his pants.
Instead, Gojo leans in to kiss you, but you block him. He ends up kissing your palm instead.
“Toruuu… that be too weird, we’re friends remember?”
“Yeah friends who are fucking, Bunny! You mean you won’t let my tongue in your mouth but you’re letting my dick inside your pussy?!”
You knew it sounded nonsensical even before he said it back to you. But your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could barely hear him anyway.
You didn’t know what you were scared of this time?
You had let all your other previous hookups makeout with you but Gojo was different.
This felt entirely different.
You didn’t know why, you just knew it was and you were apprehensive of the unfamiliar emotions he was stirring in you and this wasn’t supposed to be anything more than an arrangement between friends.
“Don’t you need to warm up tho Bunny? Obviously m’no pro at this—but even I know a little bit more foreplay is usually needed?”
Your heart beats louder at his concern but you push that aside trying to focus on your breaths.
Satoru should have been the easiest lay but for a reason that alludes—you were coming undone before him.
“Shut up Toru and just fuck me! The foreplay stuff doesn't matter, it won't make a difference anyway, m’not gonna cum! Also you’re big af so grab your lube. We're gonna need lots of it!”
Toru pouts but follows your commands without fuss.
Although he’s anxious to get his dick wet he also is still thinking of how he can hold up his end of the bargain other than a stupid purse.
You said he didn’t need to but he wanted to.
The thought of finally losing his v-card excited him but there was something that made his cock throb harder at being the first man to give you an orgasm.
But you don’t want him to touch you beyond what was absolutely necessary, so how was he going to accomplish that exactly?
Gojo was a genius and had the IQ score to prove it, he’d be able to solve the problem once he was inside you, right?
Turning back to face you after retrieving the lube from his nightstand, Toru has to grab the base of his cock this time to keep from prematurely coming in the latex that was already starting to thicken with his precum.
There you were laid out like a slut—panties pulled to the side—fingering yourself a bit to loosen up, having reconsidered his suggestion of foreplay when the twitching on your thigh reminded you of how big he actually was.
“OH SHI—”
You notice his jaw hanging open, utterly entranced as his eyes follow the motions.
You knew you should be letting him do this to get the experience but honestly there was no sense in setting Gojo up for failure—delivering a significant blow to his ego when he inevitably couldn’t make you cum. You didn’t want to damage him even more if he felt it was his fault your pussy was apparently broken, you having tensed up completely every time a guy had tried before.
But you can’t deny you are getting some pleasure—if only through your own amusement—as you grab his cock and pump the lube he poured down his latex covered shaft, still fingering yourself—much to Gojo’s delight and wonder of seeing an actual real pussy up close.
Gojo sucks in air and groans pitifully as your hand spreads the cool gel over his length which only intensifies his ache to be inside of you.
“C’mere, Toru…”
You beckon sweetly, guiding him forward with your back against the pillows, you tease the crown of his tip through your folds preparing him for missionary.
Gojo nearly bites a chunk out of his lip when his thick cockhead finally catches over your slicked entrance and you’re left wincing.
“T-Toru, e-easy—o-ok? Not too deep...”
A breathy confirmation shudders out of Gojo as he’s easing himself into your warm tightening cunt. The stretch is immediate which mentally confirms for you he is also the girthiest you’ve ever had as well.
Your heels dig into his hips to brace yourself while he hovers over you, arms shaking.
“FUUUUUHHHH—”
Even with the rubber on, Gojo still thinks he might melt from how warm and tight you are—so much better than even his onahole with the custom grip and heating features.
Screwing his eyes shut, Gojo has to count backwards from a million, recite Japan’s national anthem, list the GDPs of the top 10 wealthiest countries—anything—or he will cum too soon or worse, crack and drive his hips until he’s all the way to the hilt from the way your dangerous lil’ pussy is sucking him in.
God, it felt like your slutty cunt had a mind of its own calling for him to push in a lil’ deeper, greedily begging for him to go a lil’ further but Gojo resists.
Sweat beads on his brow from the exerted effort of sheer willpower to keep his promise to you.
To Gojo’s credit, he really is doing his best, only a little less than a third but due to his length that's still a lot.
Your eyes wander up to Gojo’s face and away from where he is wholly splitting you open, lest you clench on him even tighter and you knew you needed to relax. Even if you weren't really feeling much but the overwhelming strain from the tight fit, looking at Gojo you were happy that he appeared to be in bliss at least.
His eyes still squeezed shut, mouth hanging open and spittle flowing down his jaw Gojo was in his own world as he continuously babbled nonsense about how perfect your cunt felt around him.
Just the tip in you for all of 20 seconds and already pussy drunk from just this much.
“B-Bunny, Oh SHHIII–B-Bunny—m’cute Bun—FAH-ACK s’gud—m’gonna cum soon UHH–pussy feels s’good—oh-oh my god!”
Although his entire body is quaking with pleasure, the few functional brain cells that survived the fiery blaze of your sinful lil’ pussy are still thinking of you.
Gojo tries to give some attention to your neglected lil’ clit, but a single swipe causes your leg to jerk and you promptly push his hand away again.
“N-NO! Pleaseee, m’too sensitive Toru! J-Just focus on your thrusts! Y-You’re s’close, m’can feel your cock twitching i-i-inside me...”
Gojo wants to challenge you on this—suspecting from the way your cunt felt constricting around him you felt something pleasurable then—but he’s too far gone and much too inexperienced to keep focused on anything else.
Especially when you are so explicitly describing him fucking you.
Grabbing his face you bring your foreheads to touch to help calm him so he’d last a bit longer. Although you still hold his face to prevent him from kissing you, he's close enough that you're sharing the same breath, now looking into each other's eyes.
He struggles to maintain eye contact though before the magnetism of your heated core had them rolling back again.
You're still not close to cumming, yet you are beginning to enjoy the warm comforting feeling of being this full as he holds you close, his short thrusts gaining momentum.
Sharing intimacy with someone you actually cared about for once is really nice and you wouldn't mind having more sex like this even if you couldn't cum.
Thumbing over Gojo’s moist lips you coo sweet praises to him as he desperately moans around your delicate appendage. Suckling your thumb between his lips and nursing on it until he can no longer contain the heavy breaths that overpower him and fan across your face.
Sharing the same exhaled breath is making you light headed and you mewl at the keen sensations it stirs in your pussy that has him full on gasping now. Gojo releases the whiniest moan as he falls into you, unable to support his arms any longer.
Showering your neck with open mouth kisses as his body curls more into yours.
However it all proves far too much when Gojo faltering more in his promise, slips more than halfway into your cunt—instantly filling the latex as it balloons inside of you as you scrape your heels against his back.
SHIIIIIT! He s’big!
Despite nearly splitting your poor pussy into two at the end though, Gojo did such a good job for his first time.
You’d forgive him just this once though as you wrapped your arms around his head, gently petting his undercut. His heaving breaths quiet under your soothing touches, finally ceasing the stream of his spit and tears that had been pooling in your collarbone.
Staying like that for a while holding him while his heartbeat calms to match yours and his length softens inside you. You close your eyes peacefully for a few moments before you hear your phone vibrate next to you.
It's Shoko!
Shoko’s text apologizes for the delays and offers to get dinner instead—promising to go shopping with you and Utahime tomorrow since they got held up and you make plans for dinner in two hours.
Perfect. That gives you plenty of time to clean up and get yourself presentable.
“Did you cum even a lil bit, Bunny?”
Oh sweet baby, if you have to ask…You think to yourself but it's not poor Toru’s fault your pussy is out of order.
“Um, no Toru baby—but you did so well! Ya know you’re actually pretty cute and considerate when you get a little pussy. I’m sure you’ll manage to make any girl you happen to get naked happy!”
Gojo counters you with a disappointed look still panting slightly as he pulls out and rolls over bringing you towards him to cuddle. Allowing him, reasoning that you don’t have to get up right this second.
Yoour back meets his chest and it’s then you notice the condom still inside you. Figures since it was much too small in the first place. Yet you couldn’t complain as it managed to do its job due to Satoru not going all the way in. Breathing out you grimace a bit as you still had to give it a pretty good tug to lodge the filled latex out of your sore cunt.
“Goddamn Toru, you were pretty backed up huh?”
Having witnessed the entire display from over your shoulder and the sight of the light blue rubber covered in your fluids while drooping heavily with his own has Gojo’s dick stirring again as you jiggle the rubber demonstrating its fullness before tossing it into the bin beside his bed.
Conflicted Gojo broods for a while as he hugs you to him.
While his body felt mostly satisfied, seeing you still unsatisfied put a huge damper on his mood.
Sure you had told him you couldn’t come—but would any girl cum without much foreplay or stimulation?
Even the darker hentais and JAVs he’s seen had more foreplay than this!
Hmmm...
Thinking over the experience again in his mind he had a hunch that if right could cure your lack of orgasms but needed you to let him fuck you once more to be sure.
“So you’re gonna hit and quit just like that, Bunny?”
He teases clinging onto you again when you try to maneuver out of his embrace.
“No time for more cuddles Toru—Shoko texted, we’re getting dinner in two hours.”
“Wait! Bunny! That’s so far away—Let me go again, pleeeease!”
Gojo is determined this time to make you cum for real! And, yeah you know—your slick heat sliding up and down his cock again would be a highlight too.
“Toru–”
“—Come on bunny! We solved my problem but we haven't fixed yours, you still haven't cum yet!”
“Toru, I thought we understood we were never going to solve my problem in the first place—so don't stress! Also I know this is probably the first time a girl has said this to you and actually meant it—but it's really not you!”
Gojo puts his negotiation face on.
You wanted to play hardball? Bet.
“I’ll give you my black card for a whole week!”
Gojo turns you around to look him in the eye so you could see how sincere he was, he really wanted to try again—he knew he could make you cum this time!
You sighed.
You couldn't really be mad at him—in fact, it was actually the cutest thing—that he wanted to keep trying for your benefit—but you didn’t see the point when it would just lead to the same result. You don’t even need to glance down to see Gojo’s cock was just as resolute as he’s already recovered and fully bricked—length pulsing against your ass.
Well—given his last performance you were sure he’d last all of five minutes and if you had his black card for a whole week you were about to tear the entire Hermes store up—a Birkin and a Kelly in every color!
Hell, maybe you could even get the coveted baby pink ostrich one.
“Mmm’kay, Toru—black card for a week! No limit!”
“Yup of course! Oooh no—Wait, no rubbers and I'll let you have my new g-wagon too! I hear raw sex is sooo much better you will cum for sure then Bunny!”
Well you knew a good bargain when you heard it.
Throwing the unopened condoms to the side you laid back down.
Imported European cars are stupid expensive to get in Japan and if he was coming off a g-wagon—especially as it was a custom powder blue matte with dune colored seats and shiny platinum rims—then he could have as many two-minute pump sessions as he wanted.
He’d likely pass out from dehydration in less than twenty tops anyway.
“Okay, but same rules as before except no cumming inside Toru! I mean it! It's too much of a mess to clean up after, it’ll be dripping all night especially all that you came last time…”
The thought of your gooey tender cunt weeping his nut for hours has Gojo’s balls tightening in want of making it a reality—but he knew if all went to plan you’d be begging for it!
First—he needed you to take a more active role this time. He saw you settled back onto the pillows and that simply wouldn’t do.
“Um Bunny, can you be on top? I-I’m dying to see what your cute tiddies look like jiggling all crazy like in my face.”
You cover your chest, frowning in offense at his more debauched ecchi preferences but you agreed nonetheless.
Relenting as it’d likely have him cumming sooner and then you could finally get ready to meet the girls—all in your new g-wagon, although you’d definitely have to make up a lie as to how you scammed it out of Gojo.
Gojo takes your place on the pillows, amused as now it’s his turn to beckon you forward. Steeling yourself, you embarked on your climb to mount him. Tall and lean with wisps of hair sticking to his face Gojo looked more like he belonged in a painting, unnerving you that a face only an artist could sculpt admired your body with his lustful gaze.
He was too sexy for his own nerdy ass good like this and you failed not to whimper when his strong hands settled at your waist.
Lube in your hand you smirk, gaining some confidence back when you hear Gojo hiss as the cool gel once again spreads down his fiendish girth that pulses restlessly at your touch. The sensation is all the more agonizing without the latex barrier hindering him as your, your silky smooth palm glided over his bare cock before tugging back the sensitive foreskin covering his crown head.
Licking your lips you almost want to bend down and taste the pre marbling like a pearlescent jewel on his pretty exposed cockhead.
He’d probably cry like a baby if you did, you mused with a grin.
Good God girl snap out of it!
You chastise yourself—no, you had to focus and end this quickly before you lost your mind. The idea of fucking Gojo beyond what he could buy for you started to get more appealing and you couldn’t allow that.
Readying yourself to mount him this time you realize your pussy is quivering in anticipation of the stretch—it was uncomfortable last time so—why was your body reacting this way?
Your own pussy betraying you as she seemed to yearn for the opportunity to gobble him up, taking him in with less resistance in spite of you. Flexing around the thick intrusion inside your core you shiver in feeling the curve of every vein on his girthy cock as you lowered yourself onto him.
The way your pussy flexed as a jolt of electricity ran through you scared you—a new sensation bubbling up inside, threatening to make you lose yourself in the feeling. Must be survival instincts you rationed—your cunt scared for its life never having encountered such an acute danger like Gojo’s dick before.
The burn was pleasurable this time, sucking in sharp breaths at every slight movement of him moving inside your core. Yet Gojo is in even more bliss—from the serpentine motion of your hips cascading over his own to how your your puffy pussy lips looked so wonderfully parted, stretched open around his cock—FUCK!
How was he going to complete his plan if his brain just started turning to mush everytime your dangerously succulent cunt grinded against him.
“O–ooo shiiiiiit!”
“Y-You okay, Bunny?”
Although Gojo himself looked like he was in agony his face was reddening from how good your raw gummy walls were surging around his length.
“Hhnng, fine Toru—y’er j-just big.”
Gravity was your natural enemy in this scenario and you took him a bit past halfway this time.
Wanting to distract you, his large hands grope your tits but you knock him away—your stomach fluttering.
“What's wrong, this time?”
“...s’n-nothing, it’s—just put your hands on my hips, it helps me so my legs don't get tired.”
You lied.
Well your legs were quivering but more pressingly your heart started to race and you didn't know if it was because a cock like this could actually relocate your uterus to your lungs or if you’d actually started catching something similar to romantic feelings for Gojo Satoru.
Either one was unacceptable in your book.
“Hurry up and cum, Toru!”
However Gojo is about to say something, your phone rings.
“I-Its Utahime…”
“Don’t answer Bunny! Focus or you’re never going to cum!”
“I can multitask, Toru! Besides, on the small chance I do I know it's definitely going to take longer than the two minutes you lasted before.”
Hushing Gojo’s protests and eyes flaring at him to be silent, you answer the call.
“Bunny!”
“Hime!”
You greeted each other with your usual peppiness—like Gojo wasn’t 6 and a half inches deep with 2 and half more to go—give or take—inside you.
“What’s up? Oh erm, what am I doing—”
A sly and haughty smile plays on his lips and you scowl at him.
“—I’m still at Gojo’s and no—I’m not doing much at all right now! Haha—yeah. I can definitely talk, of course!”
Gojo frowns as his eyes narrow and to placate him you start half heartedly rotating your hips.
You still looked sexy as hell though. Even with less effort expended it was still a workout as shown by the sheen of perspiration glowing off your body. That delectable sight combined with the light swaying of your tiddies was more than enough for him to cum if he just focused on himself.
But he was determined not to this time, not until you had.
“See Toru? They were helping Shoko’s parents!”
You stick out your tongue and he makes a face back at you.
“Oh what?—s’nothing—Ha! Well ok! He said you were too busy bumping pussies to go to the mall with me! Psh—typical am I rite? Huh—put you on speaker? LOL O-OKAY.”
Snitch!
Gojo mouths to you offended you’d rat him out like this as Utahime’s voice shrills through the phone.
“Satoru you loser! You have to talk about our pussies cause you could never have one of your own in a million years!”
Snorting with laughter Gojo is more than amused.
If only they knew.
You pale signaling at him to ‘STFU’ or he could finish himself off.
“Aww, is that so Utahime? I’m so hurt.”
The mischief in Gojo’s voice is obvious—he’s clearly mocking you.
Annoyed with him getting the upper hand and feeling sassy, you pile on—
“Exactly Hime! I mean he might get some—but a total otaku like him wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if he even ever got in—EEP!”
A heavy handed smack comes down on your ass—hard.
The force ripples its way into your cunt causing you to feverishly tighten as your tongue pushes a low moan out between your lips.
“Oh ho ho—what's this? You actually like getting spanked huh, Bunny? You dirty, dirty girl…”
Gojo is whispering again before his hand once more swats at that same cheek.
The sting causes saliva to pool in the corners of your mouth.
If looks could kill Gojo would have died a horrible death—that is if you could focus enough to even glare at him. You’re absolutely mortified—too consumed by the spanks that fiercely rained down on your reddening bottom, your pussy getting shamelessly wetter with every hit.
“AH–FAHHH—”
“Bunny! What’s happened?!”
You hear Shoko’s concerned voice this time.
“N-N-Nothing, G-Gojo’s being mean to me cause I told on him! H-He pinched me so hard Shoko!”
“Liar!”
Gojo mouths again and his demeanor turns absolutely devilish.
Oh? So that's how you wanted to continue to play?
You were such a brat sometimes but then again so was he and his competitive nature soared at the challenge.
“Oh did I? Like this, Bunny?”
Gojo’s palms cup your tits roughly before he pinches them, twisting your nipples causing the slobber that collected to dribble down your chin and onto your chest.
“Shiiii—T-Toru! S-STOP YOU A-AHHH–SSHOLE!!”
The grip his thumb and forefingers have on your sensitive buds intensifies and you can barely keep the phone in your grasp as you hold it out arm extended to keep your cries from being heard.
With only one hand free there’s no way for you to worm nor pry his hands from your tits as you are still struggling not to sink lower and choke on your own tongue from the electrifying sensations assaulting your cunt.
This couldn’t be what it was like could it? This overwhelming feeling?
You didn’t want to admit it but as tear-inducing as the sensations were—they felt real fucking good.
Your hips began involuntary rocking as your core now craved how Gojo’s cock scraped against your walls like it was trying to carve itself even deeper inside you if you’d let your hips drop just a little bit lower.
“Toru! Stop picking on our Bunny! Don’t make us come over there and kick your ass!”
The sweat that now runs down Gojo’s brow threatens to blur his vision but he’s locked in and focused. The phone situation being so fucking raunchy combined with the way your pussy is creaming on him (despite you trying your hardest not to feel good) has him stressed.
Swallowing he had to try hard to keep up the act as well as please you without cumming—it would be a feat if he accomplished it to say the very least.
God, this was all so shamefully vulgar.
Did you do this on purpose answering the phone?
He didn’t even know this was a kink of his—or yours apparently.
But your “problem” was now clear to Gojo:
It’s not that you couldn’t cum, it’s just that you were scared to cum.
Any real stimulation triggered your fight or flight.
You were perfectly capable, you just needed a bit of forcefulness—however the effect of it terrified you and you bolted from it every time you had sex with someone—until now.
Heh, there would be no more running from the nut for his little bunny rabbit.
Gojo wonders how far into his ecchi depravity he can take you.
“Your Bunny, huh?”
Gojo's eyes squinted as if he could stare down Shoko and Utahime through the phone.
You were his.
He was the one who was going to make you cum and frankly he didn’t give a fuck anymore if Shoko or Utahime heard it—in fact he wanted them too.
Planting his feet into the bed, Gojo’s form shifts as he swiftly grips your waist simultaneously bringing you down while driving his pelvis up—pummeling his entire length into your guts. The prickly patch of groomed hair at his base tickles your poor abused lil’ clit which had been forcibly nestled into them—the result of being smashed against his pubic bone.
“FUHCCCK—MUTHERFUHH—SHHHH–HIIIIIT!!!”
Vision momentarily blacked out and burning with tears mixed with your running mascara, your pussy still reeling from the sheer magnitude of Gojos long girthly length now all the way sheathed and practically tearing through your womb. Your eyes are firmly lodged in the back of your head, the electrifying vibrations cause you to drop the phone entirely. Your world is spinning from experiencing your first small orgasm that only increased intensity as your efforts to escape Gojo are in vain.
Your cervix is screaming at the probing intrusion of his bulbous tip ramming so far up into you but Gojo has you anchored to him unable to flee from his onslaught of thrusts.
If you could string together a coherent thought you would have wondered if in fact your stomach had been relocated next to your lungs as you felt so full you couldn’t breathe.
Your pussy violently spasms around his girth, creamy fluids seeping down onto his base from your cunt sloshing around him. Gojo grips your cheeks spreading you wider increasing the squelching noises echoing from your cunt.
Shit though, Gojo thinks your perfect pussy might actually break his dick off from how fervently you were clenching him.
Tongue fully lolled out of your mouth, you’re grasping onto Gojo’s shoulders for stability as your saliva drips down his pectorals.
“BUNNY!! Are you still there?? What’s that noise?”
Shoko and Utahime’s calls for you go unanswered. Gojo on the other hand is grinning, albeit through gritted teeth, pleased at how his long trunk-like cock is rendering you nonverbal.
“Hehe, you definitely came a bit that time didn’t ya—ya nasty lil’ Bunny, don’t lie.”
“N-N-Nooo T-Toru–s’like I-I c-can’t breathe—”
“Heh, a’course you can baby Bun—that's what it feels like when you cum, even I know that.”
SMACK!
Another firm smack to your ass has your cunt quivering wildly.
You feel like the virgin in this situation now—and honestly—are you not?
Did those other dicks really count?
It felt like you were having sex for the first time as this was a totally different experience even from the earlier round with Gojo.
“Don’t worry though, now that I know what kinda shit you’re into—I’mma take care of that pervy lil’ princess pussy sooo good, Bunny.”
Oh god—That couldn’t be true could it?
Spanking? Nipple twisting? Having your insides pushed up to your throat?
You didn’t actually like this kinda freaky shit did you?
Yet your body’s reactions remain true even if your mind doesn't want to accept the cause of the fire that is burning within you. Your pussy is in raptures at the feeling of being molded into the exact shape of Gojo’s cock—veins and all.
“HELLLOOOOO BUNNY!!!!”
Absolutely pleased with himself Gojo retrieves the phone.
“Awe p-poor thing, just stubbed her toe runnin’ from me. My—SHIII–room is—FUHHH—k-kinda a m-mess—S-See? I almost tripped just now too. Isn’t that right Bunny?”
Gojo brings the phone closer and you bat it away wishing he would just hang up and spare you the humiliation. Although humiliation seemed to be your new kink as mirroring his earlier actions as you’re pathetically moaning into his skin. Gojo’s masculine scent, mingled with the salty aroma of perspiration, floods your senses, making you feel even more lightheaded, increasing the sloshing of his cock buried deep in your cunt.
The crude noises that rang from your bodies squelching and slapping against each other renders Gojo unable to keep up the charade either. Making up a quick excuse—he has to go get ice for your toe—he quickly hangs up on Shoko and Utahime whose puzzled protests of concern he couldn’t give a single fuck about anymore.
God fucking you while on the phone with them was so fucking hot, he’d have to get you to do it again—maybe with Suguru next time, he’d probably even be into it.
“Hey B-Bunny—y-you think Shoko and Hime were naked too?”
You groan.
This fucking hentai otaku perv—you already told him that they were helping Shoko’s parents!
You want to glare, scream, chastise, get up—but you can’t—you’re at the mercy of him ruthlessly drilling up into your cunt and can only heave out tired mewls in reply.
“Fuuuck–imma cum again soon! Do you feel the way your naughty lil’ cunt is squeezing like she wants to wring me dry, wan’t me to give it all to your pussy Bunny?”
“N-Not i-inside m’pussy, T-Toru!”
A devious smirk appears.
Heh, yeah he promised not inside your pussy.
Without warning Gojo rips his cock out from your sopping core and manhandles you onto your back. Thinking he will simply cum outside somewhere you're finally able to breathe again and you exhale—only to feel his monstrous length being shoved down your throat.
Your eyes shoot open.
Greeted with the image of Gojo's heavy balls in your face, his ball hairs tickle your nose as you gag around his girth straining your throat open wide. You think if he didn’t reach your lungs through your guts he certainly would now that he’s eight and a half inches down your esophagus.
“You said i couldn’t cum in your pussy Bunny, so let’s use that pretty lil’ mouth pussy instead—sweet fuck, ya know she’s almost tighter than your actual cunt.”
Your hands fly to the outside of his thighs pawing over the sweat glossed skin as you drag your nails down them, leaving welts in an effort to get him to ease up. The potent musk of your shared lust that had dripped down his balls was now rubbing on your face assaulting your senses.
It was fucking nasty, so gross and yet your own pussy betrayed you—burning with an ache to be filled again at the smells that stimulated your own primal hedonistic urges.
“Awe, don’t be like that. I know you like it rough, yeah? I haven’t forgotten about you either baby.”
Gojo of course at this point isn’t talking to you but your cunt.
With one hand squeezing your already constricted airway, Gojo’s other snaked its way over your body and reeling it back before delivering a mean open palmed slap to your clit.
The sound of your soaked cunt echoed through his room and he almost came from that alone as your fluids trickled out of you faster, further soiling his expensive sheets.
“This pussy likes being spanked more than those cherry cheeks of yours huh, Bunny? I know my filthy hentai pussy does.”
You’re obviously unable to answer but the way you’re gurgling moans around his cock lets him know this is exactly what you like. Thrusting two thick fingers into your quivering core his burly appendages bullied themselves in as far as they could go.
“You know—G-God, FUCK you’re tight—Bunny, you know I read in an h-manga how girls can squirt from a lack of air and a little bit of prodding, s’ppose—S-SHIII—t’be something in here that sends em absolutely wild.”
Fingers searching deeper it's not until Gojo pulls back to add a third that he scrapes past a firm spongy spot that has your legs buckling.
Astonished by the amazingly sexy reactions of your body—Gojo’s eyes are blown out wide over how much your clit swells, your hole twitches and your juices spurt out of you as your tears run over your cheeks to wet his balls further. Gojo doesn’t even need to thrust as your throat tightens around him like crazy with him jamming his fingers into that particular spot over and over.
Lost in your own ecstasy you’re proven wrong as contrary to your belief you thought his otaku sex-ed would be to his detriment to his skills. However it's exactly because of all of the lecherous and depraved shit he collected and consumed did he know exactly what to do to you now that got you all messed up. Eyes lodged into your skull, squirting and practically blacking out with his dick stuffed down your throat on his long dexterous fingers abusing your cunt.
“SHIIIIIIT—”
With a keen grunt Gojo cums, pumping loads of viscous fluid down your throat forcing you to gorge on his thick cum.
“F-Fuck Bunny are you a throat goat? M-Milked me dry...”
He’s still driving his pliable fingers in and out of you, his arms are shaking from his own orgasm but he doesn’t care. Nothing on earth could stop him from replicating the beautiful sight of your pretty lil’pussy spurting out juices that run all the way down his forearm.
“…heh, looks like I can milk you too, Bunny.”
Gojo finally dislodges his dick out of your throat but still runs a hand through your pussy folds to rub soothing circles on your clit. You whimper through your coughs as you spit up some of his cum, still gagging after what were mere minutes but seemed like hours of choking on his beefy cock.
Vision spotty, tremors run through your body—both ends so thoroughly fucked out—that it doesn’t register that Gojo is once again lifting your body bringing you towards the edge of the bed.
If you thought Gojo was going to give you aftercare from having used your body like one of his anime fleshlights, you’d be correct—but not before one last round.
Lifting your hips off his luxe bed Gojo positions your wobbly legs on his shoulders. His eyes are blown out and crazed with his own twisted perversion. Weakened and spent himself as cock twitched from overstimulation but he’s never been a quitter—determined to make you cum again and again before one of you finally passes out.
Your toes wiggle and you keen as his tongue ravenously dips between your toes. Trailing his tongue past the arch of your foot to bite your heel.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Bunny—the best pussy in the whole world, how could you ever think she was broken? You were just waiting for me to use her huh?”
“S-shut up–Toru, j-jeez…”
Your windpipes had been fucked raw and you’re croaking which to your dismay only seems to turn Gojo on more and he’s tapping his tender engorged cockehead on your clit. Your brows pinch together as you bite back moans from his frenulum catching and chafing so wonderfully over your clitoral hood.
“Puhleaseeee, Honey Bunny! Let me fuck you a bit more now that we know you are as ecchi coded as I am, m’kay my pervy princess?”
The very thought shames you and you think your heart might seize from embarrassment if it doesn’t give out from pleasure first and your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest chest from all the pet names Gojo is bestowing upon you.
“Toru…”
You try to reason with him through your defeated huffs as you press your legs shut together.
“...y-you made me cum from your fingers n’ your cock.. Y-You won. Pleaseee—I-I don’t even think I can cum any more.”
Not convinced Gojo pushes your legs back.
“Oh, is that right? Let’s ask her then!”
Gojo delivers another smack onto your slippery pussy as if on the command of her new owner your obedient cunt immediately leaks a bit more creamy slick onto his palm.
“See, baby? She says you can though and that she’s tired of you running from it Bunny—”
Still hugging your legs together in his grasp, Gojo lowers himself to rub his cheek against your pussy like it was his favorite pillow.
“Don’t fret my pervy lil’ pussy I won't let Bunny deprive you any longer from what you really need.”
You groan yet Gojo is more gentle this time as he gingerly rolls you onto your belly and lifts your hips to slide his giant Agumon pillow underneath.
Urgh, did it have to be this one!?
There's no time for complaints though once Gojo spreads your cheeks wide. A glob of spit hits your crack as his thumb prods against your shy puckering rear hole while he humps his cock between the fat of your thighs through your soggy swollen folds.
“Shiiit imma fuck this tight lil’ bunny hole next time baby, m’kay?”
The threat causes you to shudder yet all your back talk and sass is gone from his illicit preparations as he elicits heady mewls from your hoarse throat. Your cunt flutters eagerly to have him fill you again as his fingers imprint themselves into your bottom.
The anticipation is so intense as bracing for his size ripping through you you nearly fail to notice Gojo is now humming to himself—humming—THE DIGIMON CHAMPIONS THEME SONG!?
OH HE HAD YOU ALL THE WAY FUC—
—And suddenly you’re screaming again, eyes glued to the back of your skull as his hips jerk forward, drilling his dick past your walls to pound directly into your cervix with the tempo of a madman.
OH FUCK! …s’good!
You finally surrender letting your cunt control your brain as you throw ass back to meet his frenzied thrusts. Like a drug addict from the first real taste your pussy is already addicted to the feeling of his cock destroying you.
“S’toru–S’toru–S’toru–FUHHHHCK!”
His name fell from your lips like a mantra, the only word your brain—now thoroughly fucked smoothed—could remember.
The sight of you chasing your own pleasure as your ass slammed back onto his pelvis, your skin rippling as it bounced and splashed frothy fluids onto his abs sent him further into perverse degeneracy.
“F-Fuck Bunny—baby, this pussy too good—We can’t tell Suguru for a while, kay? He’ll want to fuck you too and this pussy is just f’me. Suguru gets all the pussy s’tell me you’ll keep yours f’er me. Thought you were broken but you just needed my cock this whole time—”
Burying your face in the sheets bashfully at the mention of Suguru, your cunt pulls more taut around Gojo’s cock.
“—FUHH, g-go out with me yeah, Bunny? Love you s’much—SHIIIIT—buy you whatever you want—t-take you where you want—this dick s’yours Bun Bun—all yours!”
Plunging into deeper if it were even possible Gojo’s blunted nails drug into the fat of your ass and hips, it wouldn’t scar but it would certainly add to the inevitable bruising.
“I’ll never even look at a non 2D woman again as long as I have you as my lil’ onahole—shit I’ll never even buy one of those again unless it's in the shape of your pussy—F-FUCK, w-wait–y-you think we could get one made in the shape of your pussy–my girlfriend’s perfect pussy?!”
It’s too much—too overwhelming and your mind is slowly but surely being corrupted by Gojo. Otherwise the image of him whining while fucking a onahole casted from your cunt as he watches you finger yourself would have never in a million years popped into your mind.
Determined to see you unhinged in every respect, Gojo didn’t want to deny you pleasure but if he had to be a little mean to you so you could finally be honest with him then so be it.
Slowly pulling out, your expression is near frantic as you look back at him. Your mouth gaping and babbling nonsensically for him not for him to stop—you were so close.
Gojo simpers, relishing in your cute cockdrunk face scrunched with confusion from him pulling out so suddenly.
“W-Words baby, c’mon I just spilled my heart out here!”
Your pussy weeps longingly for Gojo’s cock as your body shakes with a yearning begging to be filled again.
God help you, you want him.
You want him and his sinfully curved demon dick badly, it’s all you could think about—Not even remembering what life was like before he so perversely rearranged your guts. However, not only did he know how to hit all your spots, he knew you—and despite him completely disregarding all of the rules you had initially set, he was the first guy who actually cared about how you felt during sex, even if he was a perverted otaku.
There was simply no use in denying it any longer.
You caved.
Tears streaming down your face as you hiccupped your admission of affections for him, red-faced and flustered.
“S’toru, I-I’ll be your girlfriend—need you n’need your cock s’much—”
Pressing the side of your face against the mattress you bring a shaky hand through your legs, fingers slipping over your slick as you part your pussy lips—your vacant core exposed and fluttering, begging for him just as hard.
“—m’also you’re onahole T-Toru, I promise i’ll only fuck you, j-just please keep fucking me, i wanna cum on your cock, want your cum in me Toru baby!”
You might die from the shame of it all once you sober up from being utterly cockdrunk and stupefied but all you could think about right now was Gojo’s hard dick laying heavy pipe back into your cunt.
Something snaps in Gojo.
Head over heels for you now, Gojo knew from that moment on he’d never let you go.
Real or 2D—no could compare to you in Gojo’s eyes.
Toru finally found something he loved more than digimon—your perfect lil’pussy.
And he was going to show her how much he loved her right now.
Taking what was so graciously presented to him this time around, you’re short circuiting once he’s finally inside you again your most base needs being satiated turning you into a cockfiendish whore crying for him to fuck you harder as you grip his sheets like you could rip them apart.
His strokes become more merciless, unrelenting on your pussy and Gojo leans his weight onto your back, legs bent crouching on top of you, his hips becoming manic they thrashed forward in short heavy thrusts to hammer you into the mattress.
Gojo himself is beyond gone.
Disregarding all promises of mentioning otaku shit while he was wrecking your cunt.
“Fuck bunny this feels better then what I thought Agnewomon’s pussy would be like— you'd look so sexy in that cosplay. Gonna have you dress up for me and show you off at cons. I’ll buy you whatever you want, anything, the whole fucking world yeah? Just fuck—wear those those vibrating panties while you cosplay too, you’d like that?”
You tightened groaning at his debauchery, something that was not missed at all by Gojo who by this point had fucked his own self dumb in your angelic cunt. White strands of his hair stuck to both of your faces as he tiled your head back so he could see how desperately those little hearts danced in your dilated pupils before they were reduced to nothing more than mere splotches whiting out your vision.
“Fuck u really are a slut huh bunny? Tightening at the thought of all those otaku perverts looking at you in that skimpy outfit while I control the buzzing on that lil clit. But they can’t have you—m’the only otaku pervert that knows how to make you cum!”
Delirious with melodic honeyed cries spilling from you, you just wanted him to stop talking—pointing out every single time your body responded to his ecchi tastes becoming your tastes and now just yearning for a taste of him.
Reaching back you’re pulling him down to smash your lips together. Messy, but you could care as Gojo tried to swallow your tongue fucking his own into your mouth with a force that matched his cock. If fucking you was heaven then kissing you was nirvana—he’d give you the whole world if he could keep fucking you like this forever.
Gojo needs you to cum again soon as the feral need breed your tummy until it swells with his seed has him losing the little sanity he even had to begin with. A virgin until today he’d saved up so much waiting for your tight cunt this whole time.
Moving his lips away from yours only for air, your chest heaves harmonies cries from his hand weaving under your bodies. Jittery fingers swiped frantically over your clit, hurling you towards your euphoric climax as his lips descend back upon yours.
“Cum Bunny—I got ya baby.”
Deliberately plowing himself harder against your cervix, your body seizes up releasing tension into pure white energy that you swore was pumping through your every vein as an extension of your pussy as his heavy load spurts to paint your walls and sear your insides as his thrusts continue to swill his seed inside you, pushing it further into your womb—-thank fuck for birth control.
However that was the last thing you remember before you go limp, temporarily blacked out as you swear you’ve transcended to a celestial plane of existence. One where all slutted out souls went to escape from the unearthly pleasure they’ve been tortured by. You don’t know how long you’ve been out but you're squirming as you come back to consciousness. Realizing your now back on your back as your hips involuntarily rocking against something thick and wet.
When you finally manage to open your eyes you're greeted by Gojo tongue slurping at your clit and lapping up the cum oozing out of your battered hole like it was a refreshingly creamy bowl of kakigori. His hands embedded themselves into your thighs pinning them to the bed nibbling on your clit and having your already overstimulated core climaxing on his tongue once more.
Strings of your sticky nectar connect his tongue to your cunt as he looks up at you. Having the audacity to grin lovingly at you as if he didn’t look like a downright starved and deranged man with a sheen of shared fluids dribbling down his chin. He’s pussy drunk once again this time buzzed off the pungent yet sweet taste of his cum marinating in your creamy tenderized cunt.
Gojo is cheesin’ at you like he’s found his favorite spot in the world—and he had as far as he was concerned.
“You said it was too messy, remember Bunny? The least I can do to make it up to you is scoop every drop out of your runny lil’ cunt with my tongue! What kind of boyfriend would I be to have all this cum soaking my Bunny’s slutty little thong and spilling down her thighs while out to dinner—so I decided to have mine a little early.”
FUCKING HELL—DINNER! What time was it?!
Disordented, your head is fuzzy and you could feel the soreness settling in your muscles. You didn’t think you’d be able to get out of this bed in the next 24 hours, let alone make it to dinner—if you hadn’t already missed it!
“Nnnn, n-not like I can go anymore Toru, s’all your f-fault!”
Your bruised lips poke out into pout. Gojo chuckles at you how cute you look and he rises up from between your thick thighs to boop you on the nose as he gazes adoringly at you.
“I know princess m’sorry—I already texted Shoko saying you couldn’t, don’t worry~~”
But your eyes widened as you were now fully worried.
Worried as to what the fuck Gojo actually texted them!
“T-Toru—”
“—I just told them you weren’t feeling well, was that okay?”
Quickly assuaging your fears—you can relax a bit for now (although you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do later) as Gojo pulls you to him again and softly kisses your neck, hands returning to your ass to rub soothing circles on your chaffed skin.
Relaxing again floods sleep into your eyes. A welcome godsend honestly, so you can process everything that just happened, especially Gojo aggressively fucking a love confession out of you.
“And m’sorry if I got carried away Bun… but you were so good for me, so fucking perfect! Just relax and I’ll take care of you! I’ll handle everything—for you and your nasty lil’ cunt. I love you both and I’ll keep both my pretty girls happy forever! I promise!”
Gazing at you with cartoonishly sparkling eyes, you have to look away from Gojo lest your ears altogether burn up in embarrassment from his shameless and yet a hundred percent earnest vocalization of affections that somehow still got your heart racing.
“—oh and my parents will be here tomorrow—we can tell them right? They will be so excited! They've been telling me since I was little I shouldn’t let you get away! Ooo! Ooo! Maybe now that we're dating they’ll let us use their sex dungeon! We need to think of a safe word though Bunny—”
Scarcely comprehending anything he is saying to you, your mind like your pussy had been fully liquified. Both ruthlessly corrupted by Gojo’s long otaku cock and pervy ass fantasies which is no surprise seeing as his family even owns a—
HOL’ THE ENTIRE FUCKUP—A SEX DUNGEON!?
Like a shot of caffeine directly into your veins your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you blink at him dumbfounded, mouth hanging open.
“Doesn’t that sound fun, Bunny!? My parents are so cool! When I turned 18 my dad even gave me some of his rare and one-of-a-king hentai figures for my collection to get me started and then—”
Tuning him out you’re gagged at the unexpected revelations—and his parents always seemed like such charming n’ decent God fearing people too. Well known to be ruthless in the business world, but upstanding global philanthropists nonetheless.
Well the apple sure as hell didn’t fall too far from the sordid sex fiend tree, that was for damn sure!
Clearly you had no idea what you were getting yourself into or had unleashed by agreeing to be Gojo’s girlfriend. I mean, could no longer deny your growing feelings for him—plus he did just give you multiple back-breaking-terrifyingly-mind-numbing-earth-shattering-orgasms. Not to mention, you would definitely be getting one of every Hermes bag ever made if you wanted one—but at what cost?
Your Dignity?
Self-respect?
The right to call yourself a functional and contributing non-degenerate member of society?
Who knows really…
Although perhaps dating a Gojo, the next heir at that, you’d be too rich and highly regarded for people to even care (we’ll except for your friends giving y’all hell but you could eventually make peace with that).
You internally groan as the gentle touches on your bottom morph into lustful gropes and you know your brand new boyfriend would not be granting rest for your totally demolished lil’ pussy anytime soon unless you could distract him a bit.
“—Toru, Toru baby listen, please.”
Interrupting him, you muster the energy to put on the sweetest face you can manage in your exhausted state.
And of course, Gojo, as always and yet unknowingly, tests the limits of your tolerance.
“Yes, my whittle Bunny, my kinky baby girl—hentai goddess divine?”
Gojo nuzzles your nose in an eskimo kiss as he showers you with ‘loving compliments’.
Scrunching your face, you grit your teeth through your already weak smile to stop yourself from losing it at him referring to you as ‘hentai goddess divine’—y’all would definitely be having a talk about that as well as appropriate in-public pet names later though.
“Babyyyyy—I’m so sticky and sore, why don’t you be a good boyfriend and get stuff ready for us to take a bath, hm? Maybe find me something else to wear too, hm?”
You did need a bath and you calculated even with his energetic disposition it should take him at least 15-20 minutes to delegate the tasks and get everything together considering how huge his mansion was.
“Oh! Of course, of course! Just wait here! I’ll be right back, my ecchi angel.”
Brow-twitching you sit up to wave at him with another strained smile as he scrambles to put on pants and heads out of his room.
You sigh tiredly and make yourself comfy on his cloud like pillows.
Thinking he’s finally left and you can savor some much needed time to make peace with what you got yourself into by agreeing to be the girlfriend of an otaku nerd like Gojo Satoru—
—when his head suddenly peaks back in the room with a sheepish look on his face.
“Heh, you know Bunny, was thinking—you really didn’t think I could code crack your cute lil’ cunt now did ya?”
Your eyes are closed but your fists are balling angrily gripping onto the pillows surrounding you.
“Don’t worry Bunny, yours is the only pussy my dick is digidestined for!”
With that, Gojo narrowly avoids the Agumon pillow plushie that is swiftly hurled at his head as he dashes away from the door, his merry yet hysterical laughter echoing through the halls.
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
⏭ a/n: this fic was wayyyy too long but i've been kinda mean to y'all gojo glazers lately rejoicing in your sorrows cause you are now miserable like the rest of us lmfao, so consider this y'alls bone :P tbh im kinda surprised this is the first full gojo fic i've written lol, it was fun tho cause otaku!gojo is a freak for pussy would drive you insane in all the right and wrong ways. i still have invisible man gojo and ceo/professor gojo planned tho (plus that frat boy satosugu request).
eta: serieslist
reblogs and comments are my life's blood ty ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ
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TICKET TO PLAY | john price
Sheriff Price has a habit of pulling you over, and you have a habit of seeing how far you can push him. It’s a game you've been playing for years—a harmless one, until he gives you exactly what you’ve been asking for.
⤿ based on this | [ AO3 ]
18+ AU, fem!reader, small town vibes, porn with minimal plot, smut, oral (m receiving), dom!john (back and forth between hard and soft), bratty—sort of pathetic reader, fingering, squirting, public sex, smidge of voyeurism, size kink if you really read the fine print, implied slight age gap [ 6.6k words ]
You weren’t going that fast.
Maybe nudging 35 in a 25, but the road was empty—just you and the soft, golden light of a July evening slipping into dusk. The cicadas hummed their lazy symphony, crickets chirping in harmony, while the air carried the scent of fresh-cut grass and summer warmth. It was the kind of night that wrapped around you like a blanket, slow and sweet, the kind that made you want to roll the windows down and let the world drift by.
But then the sirens sliced through the calm, sharp and jarring, shattering the stillness. Red and blue lights flashed in your rearview, splashing the road ahead in a chaotic swirl of color. Your hands tightened on the wheel, that familiar knot twisting in your gut. You didn’t even need to check the mirror to know who it was.
Sheriff John Price.
The small-town Sheriff (asshole) that had a sixth sense for catching you when you weren’t even doing anything wrong. The guy who’d written you up for a rolling stop at an empty intersection, or a right on red at 2 a.m. when the streets were dead silent. Sure, maybe you were five over on a straight stretch of road, but come on—did he really have nothing better to do than hassle you over that? It was starting to feel like he was just looking for excuses to pull you over.
At this point, you figured you were practically on a first-name basis. Hell, you were probably the most frequent flyer on his ticket roster. But that was the trade-off for living in a town where the sheriff knew everyone’s business—and apparently, yours most of all.
You eased the rickety old Nissan Skyline to a crawl, tires screeching softly as you pulled onto the shoulder and shifted into park. Your fingers moved on autopilot, fishing the registration out of the center console before he even asked. If John Price had one talent, it was knowing where you were before you did—and you’d learned the hard way to keep things within arm’s reach.
The music blared for a second longer before you killed the volume, the sudden silence pressing down on the summer night like a weight. You rolled down the window, letting the warm, sticky air flood the cabin, thick with the scent of grass and distant rain. Leaning back in your seat, one hand resting lazily on the wheel, you waited. Same old song and dance.
First came the slam of his cruiser door, sharp and final, like he was already annoyed at the prospect of dealing with you. Then the crunch of his boots on the asphalt—slow, deliberate, each step dragging out the inevitable. It was almost comical, the way he took his time, like he wasn’t the one who’d flipped on the lights and sirens.
The window hissed as it rolled down, the sound jarring in the quiet, and before you could stop yourself, a smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth. You didn’t bother hiding it this time. If you were walking away thirty dollars lighter, you might as well make it entertaining.
"Evenin’, John," you drawl, letting the words hang in the air with a playful edge that makes his jaw tighten.
He leans in, his arms braced against the window frame like he owns the whole damn road. His face is all sharp lines and shadows in the fading light, the faint scent of cigarettes and worn leather wrapping around you, mingling with the heavy, humid air of the summer night.
“Don’t call me John,” he grumbles, his voice rougher than usual, like gravel under tires.
You raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a grin. “Why not?” you tease, letting your fingers trail lazily along the steering wheel. “Thought we were friends, John.” You bat your lashes, adding a pout for good measure, laying it on thick just to see how far you can push him this time
He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even blink. His eyes narrow, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he leans in closer, his presence crowding you. “We aren’t ‘friends,’” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. “You know why I pulled you over?”
It’s not really a question—it’s a challenge, and you can’t help but rise to it. You tilt your head, letting your gaze linger on him, your smirk widening. “Hmm… maybe ‘cause you’re a sucker for a pretty car?” you suggest, your tone dripping with sarcasm, sweet enough to sting.
John’s lips press into a thin line, but the subtle shift in his posture tells you everything you need to know. His gaze is unrelenting, sharp enough to cut through the cool facade you’re trying so hard to maintain. Internally, he’s fighting not to laugh—you can see it in the way his shoulders tense, like he’s holding back a cackle.
“If this—” he steps back, his eyes sweeping over the exterior of your car with deliberate slowness before landing back on you, “—is your idea of a ‘pretty car,’ I might have to issue you a ticket for driving without glasses.”
You lean back in your seat, arms crossing over your chest, your mouth hanging open in mock offense. Just because Fergie was old didn’t mean she was ugly. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an ass?”
He stands there for a moment, just watching you, his expression unreadable. It’s like he’s weighing how much more of this he’s willing to put up with. Finally, he tilts his head, his voice dry as dust. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a brat?”
“Touché.”
You two had been here before. Over and over again. Ever since you’d come back home from college, he’d been hot on your trail—always showing up at the worst possible moments, right when you thought you might’ve gotten away with it.
This was your town. You’d grown up here, knew every road, every corner, every face. It was small, sure, but it was yours. And then John Price showed up. Sparkling, brand new hot-shot sheriff, fresh off the Mayflower. Sworn in by all the touch-starved wives and swooned over by every teenage girl in a fifty-mile radius. Ever since he’d arrived, it was like Elvis all over again
You figured he didn’t have the right to boss the locals around like he owned the place. No shiny badge or gun on his hip was going to earn him any respect from you. This wasn’t some big city where the badge meant everything. Out here? You could be just as stubborn as he was.
Still, he had a knack for showing up when you least expected it, always lurking in the background, keeping an eye on you for reasons you couldn’t quite figure out. No one could explain it, but there he was, always hovering like you were some kind of problem. But you never did anything wrong. Not really.
“I bet you 50 bucks there’s about five disgruntled teens smoking pot under the high school bleachers as we speak,” you say, leaning back in your seat with a grin tugging at your lips. “Surely, they deserve your devotion and attention more than little ol’ me.”
He pauses, clearly weighing your words, and you can see the flicker of recognition in his eyes. “I don’t want your money,” he mutters, his tone dry but with a hint of amusement—and something else you can’t quite place. “Besides, I doubt you’ve got 50 dollars to spare, considering how often you’re in the precinct paying off tickets.” He leans in just a little, his gaze sharp, like he’s daring you to argue.
You shrug, playing the part, even though you know he’s right. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’re wasting your time with me. I’m practically a model citizen. Those kids under the bleachers, though? They could be causing all kinds of trouble.”
You give him a sidelong glance, letting the playful challenge hang in the air between you. “I’m just trying to help you out here, Sheriff.”
Your tone is sweet—too sweet—and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure out whether you’re messing with him or just being your usual self.
He takes a slow breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. His hand pinches the bridge of his nose before he exhales, the sound heavy with exasperation. “Oh, I’m sure you are,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Big help, givin’ me that advice.”
You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward just enough to close the distance between you, your voice dripping with mock sincerity. “What can I say, Sheriff? Someone’s gotta make your job worthwhile.”
For a moment, the world seems to narrow to just the two of you. The air grows heavy, charged with something you can’t quite name, and the silence stretches taut between you. But then the faint hum of a car engine cuts through the stillness, tires rolling past on the asphalt—a sharp reminder that you’re not alone out here.
“Step out of the car.” His voice is calm, steady, but there’s a flicker of something darker beneath the surface, a low undercurrent that sends a shiver down your spine.
Your jaw tightens, anger flaring hot and sudden in your chest. He’s never asked you to step out of the car before, and the demand catches you off guard. You can’t afford to be arrested—not with a shift at the diner at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning, not with the way your life is already balanced on a knife’s edge. The thought of cuffs, of being hauled into the precinct, makes your stomach churn.
But you don’t move. Not yet. Instead, you meet his gaze, your own sharp and defiant, and for a heartbeat, the two of you are locked in a silent standoff.
You don’t say a word, just reach down to unclick your seatbelt with an indignant sigh, movements slow—like dragging out the inevitable might change the outcome. The latch pops, the sound too loud in the quiet, and you open the door, letting the evening air rush in, cool against the heat prickling at your skin.
You step out, tugging your shorts down where they’ve ridden up, keeping your gaze on the ground, on the cracks in the pavement, anywhere but at him. You try to keep your breathing steady, try to act like this is just another bullshit stop, just another way for him to waste your time and break your wallet. But your heart’s already racing, faster than you want it to.
Then his hand is on your hip.
Firm. Unmoving. Not quite guiding, not quite restraining. Just there. A weight that lingers, like a silent reminder that he’s the one in control here, no matter how much you want to believe otherwise.
For a second, you freeze.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just watches you. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, charged with something you don’t want to name.
You swallow, still refusing to look at him. “Gonna write me a bullshit ticket, John?” Your voice is casual, flippant—too much so. You know it, and so does he.
He doesn’t answer right away, and that makes it worse.
Because the truth is, you’d rather he just do it. Write the damn ticket, hand you the fine, and send you on your merry way. That would be easy. It’d be normal.
But nothing about him has ever been easy. And this? Whatever this is? It sure as hell isn’t normal.
His fingers tighten—just slightly—but it’s enough. Enough for you to catch it, that flicker of something dark and barely restrained. His jaw tightens, his nostrils flare, and you realize he’s at his limit.
Like he’s weighing his options. Like he’s wondering if he should just give you the damn ticket and walk away.
You tilt your chin up, finally meeting his gaze, like a challenge. Would he?
His voice is tight when he finally speaks, low and strained, every word biting through the air.
"You think this is a game?"
You pause, letting the question linger as you ponder. Is it a game? Is that what this has always been? This back-and-forth, this constant chase—where you go about your life, minding your business, and he shows up, lurking, watching, like he’s got nothing better to do than make you his personal problem.
Would he really arrest you? Pin you against his cruiser and throw you in the back? Take you downtown like you’re some criminal? The thought sends a slow, involuntary shiver down your spine, but the more you think about it, the more ridiculous it sounds. If he was going to do it, it would’ve happened already.
He’s just a big softie. A stubborn, gruff, self-righteous pain in the ass who acts like he’s got the whole town in a chokehold but has spent too many years shadowing you for it to be a coincidence.
And deep down, you reckon he must have some sick, weird crush if the only way he can muster up the courage to see you is by stuffing a white slip of paper under your windshield wiper, like he can’t even be bothered to have a conversation without the safety of bureaucracy to hide behind.
You don’t even have to think about it anymore.
This is a game.
You keep your gaze steady, watching him. Watching the way he’s fighting to maintain that authority, to keep control. And through the harsh headlights from his car, it’s almost cute—the way his jaw tightens, the way his nostrils flare ever so slightly, the way his fingers twitch against your hip like he’s waging a war with himself. Like he thinks he can win.
But he can’t.
Not really.
His grip on you tightens, fingers pressing deeper, slipping beneath soft flesh to squeeze the bone. Like he’s trying to ground himself. Like he thinks if he just holds on tight enough, he can remind himself who’s in charge here.
But you see it—the shift in his expression, the cracks forming right in front of you. His eyes are darker now, narrowed with something he’s still pretending isn’t there, and his teeth grit like it physically pains him to keep standing here.
You just can’t resist.
You lean in just enough, close enough that your breath tickles his cheek, and with a slow, knowing smirk, you whisper, “You’ve been dying to get your hands on me, haven’t you, John?”
The words hang between you, sharp and saccharine, and for a moment, it’s like the world holds its breath.
His eyes go dark, that flicker of anger flashing through them like a warning. But it’s not just anger anymore. It’s something else, something raw. For a split second, you’re certain he’s off the deep end.
Before you can even blink, his hand moves. It’s fast, and suddenly, he’s grabbing you by the arm, yanking you toward him with a force that steals the breath from your lungs.
“Get over here,” he growls.
The words are rough, guttural, scraping against his throat like he’s been holding them back for too long.
The next thing you know, he’s dragging you to the hood of his cruiser, his grip tight and bruising as his fingers wrap around your wrist, effortlessly dwarfing it. The cold metal of the hood bites against your skin as he shoves you down, bending you over the car.
And then he’s on you.
His chest is solid heat against your back, his weight pressing you into the hood like he’s making sure you stay there. Your breath catches, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven movements as you try to process just how quickly the shift between you has turned into this.
“Talk so fuckin’ much,” he mutters through clenched teeth, his voice a growl of frustration and something deeper, something rougher. His breath fans against your ear, hot and unsteady, sending a shiver down your spine.
One hand clamps over your wrists, holding them firm against the small of your back, while the other tangles in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose the vulnerable line of your throat.
The grip is possessive. Unforgiving, like he’s staking a claim.
“You think you can just keep pushing me? Keep fuckin’ with me like this, hmm?”
A soft whimper tumbles from your lips, and you bite down hard on your bottom lip, the rest of the sound dying in your throat. His hand pulls on your hair, making your neck arch back, and the sharp tug sends a jolt straight to your cunt. You try to choke back the reaction, but it’s impossible—the way he’s holding you, the way he’s pressing into you with every word, every move.
His body presses into yours, the intensity of it all making your pulse race. Despite everything, despite the situation, a shiver runs down your spine. You can tell he’s holding back by the way his teeth grit, the sharpness in his voice.
You smirk, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze from the side. “By the way John Jr’s more sprung than a rainy day in April, I’d say you like it,” he groans and you chuckle, “You do like it, don’t you, John?”
The words slip from your lips, taunting him, and you can feel the shift in his posture before he even moves. His grip on your hair tightens, pulling you back further, forcing you to arch your neck more as he leans in, his breath hot and heavy against your skin, each exhale brushing over you like a warning.
“Think you’ve got me figured out?” he growls, teeth grazing the curve of your ear, his words a promise and a threat all at once. “Since you’re so fuckin’ knowledgeable, tell me something…”
Your pulse quickens, the anticipation like the loaded gun in his waistband. “Tell you what?” you ask, your voice quiet, almost breathless, but your eyes never leave his.
“Tell me what I do t’dumb girls that don’t know how t’speak only when spoken to,” he murmurs, his grip shifting, pulling you in closer, his body pressing against yours in a way that makes it impossible to ignore the growing bulge in his pants.
You can feel his cock twitch with interest in his jeans, and instinctively, you roll your hips back into his. The firm bulge presses against your pulsating cunt, offering just the smallest bit of reprieve from the ache in your clit and you can’t help but whimper. “You give them a ticket and send them on their way?”
“Nice try, love,” he says, the words dripping with disappointment, like he’s genuinely let down by your guess.
Before you can even react, his hand leaves your hair, and you hear the cold click of the cuffs snapping around your wrists.
You jerk against the restraint, but it’s useless. You turn to look up at him, but the look on his face—hands on his hips, blue eyes locked on you—makes you stop.
No smirk, no joke. Just intensity.
“Get on your knees,” he says, voice low, rough, without hesitation.
You bite your lip, the urge to snap back hitting you. But instead, you swallow it down and push yourself up, kneeling before him on the pavement. The roughness of it bites into your skin, the cuffs digging into your wrists, each pull reminding you of just how much control he has in this situation.
His boot taps lightly against your thigh, the sound sharp in the quiet air, a silent demand for your attention. You glance up, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes makes your breath catch. It’s a look that makes your pulse quicken, as if he can see right through you, into everything you’re trying to shovel deep..
“Sit,” he commands, the word simple, authoritative.
It takes you a second to realize what he means, but when his boot nudges against your clothed cunt, you get it.
You lift your hips slow, like you’re not sure but can’t help it, settling atop his boot. The sensation makes a shiver run up your spine. His fingers find your hair again, firm, enough to tilt your head back and make you look up at him.
“This’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it, dove?” His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, like he’s savoring the sight of you—knees to the ground, wrists bound, eyes wide as you stare up at him. He can’t help but palm himself at the sight.
Your heart pounds against your ribs, heat simmering in your cheeks with anticipation. “I’m not gonna beg,” you sneer, defiant like your cunt isn’t already drooling for him. The lie sits thick on your tongue, heavy enough to choke on.
He smirks—slow like he’s amused, but there’s something else there, like he’s already decided how he’ll play with you.
“That’s cute,” his fingers tighten in your hair, tilting your head back just a little further. Your lips part on instinct, a quiet, pained mewl slipping out before you can stop it.
“but you will,” he hums with a smile so saccharine, it makes you want to smack it off his face. His free hand reaches for his belt, fumbling with the leather as he pulls it out of the buckle. You can feel your body buzzing with anticipation, the tension building in every nerve of your body. Everything in your mind is screaming at you, telling you how wrong this is, how this can’t happen. But deep down, you know he’s right. This has been a long time coming.
But fuck, he’s a literal cop, the Sheriff. This has to fall under some public indecency law.
But despite everything, despite all the warnings your mind throws at you, the pull is stronger, too real to ignore. And you can’t stop yourself from leaning into it.
He peels down the zipper of his blue slacks and the sound echoes in your ears. You’re on your knees on the shoulder of a road, the last vestiges of daylight fading, and God help you, your mouth waters when you see the outline of his solid cock through his boxers.
He doesn't break eye contact, his other hand still tight in your hair, daring you to even try to look away. The recklessness, the sheer audacity of him whipping out his cock in the middle of a traffic stop. It’s all so palpable, like a stack of weights on your chest. He tugs down his boxers in one fluid movement, his cock springing free, and you can’t help but try to back away at the sight.
He's massive in every sense of the word. Dark curls trail from his navel to the base of him, thick but neatly kept. His cock hangs low and heavy between his legs, thick and long with a few veins and just the softest blush of pink at his tip. There’s no way you can take him all, let alone in your mouth.
He could see the shift in your eyes, the sudden apprehension in your demeanor, and the hand in your hair loosened. He trailed his fingers from your scalp to your cheek, his thumb wandering to the plump flesh of your parted lips.
“You can say no, dove. I won’t hold it against you,” he says softly, giving you an out. His blue eyes soften as they meet yours, and you know he wouldn’t force you. But the way the hard leather of his boot presses through your shorts, firm against your clit, has you fighting the urge to grind against him. You want—No, need him. Badly.
You bow your head to meet his cock, tongue darting out, hungrily swiping up the drop of precum dangling from his tip. He automatically groans and his hands find their way back to your scalp, feeding his cock into your mouth. Your lips tighten around him immediately, suckling as he presses in and stretches you out.
“Fuck— that’s it, love, so fuckin’ tight,” he babbles as he watches his length disappear in your mouth over and over. His eyes flutter shut as he tips his head back—he knew if he looked at you any longer he’d blow his load too soon. Your tongue is just so hot. He hadn’t expected it to be ice, but God you were sweltering. He nestled himself in the back of your throat so nicely, tickling and toying with your gag reflex each time you bobbed your head. You coat his length with slick spit, the sounds of your gags subconsciously making him push your head down even further.
You focus on steady breaths through your nose as his grip tightens. Your hands strain against the cuffs, aching to touch, to feel, to at least stroke where your mouth can’t reach. So pretty like this, he thinks. The way you look up at him, defiant yet desperate. The way your breath catches and your throat flutters around his mushroomed tip.
It drives him crazy—how much he wants to break that control, to make you lose it completely. His groans only spur you on further, your tongue moving with purpose, tracing the prominent vein along his underside.
Your hips jerk against his boot as spit gathers at the corners of your mouth, knees grinding into the asphalt, but you barely notice the sting. All you can think about is the way it makes heat pool in your cunt—sends sparks up your spine.
You can’t help it—your hips keep moving, grinding against his boot, the rough leather driving you wild, and you’re sure you’re leaving a wet spot. The friction is delicious, and you’re so lost in it that you almost miss when he speaks.
“Look at you,” he says, smirking despite how badly he needs to cum. “Can’t even help yourself, can you? Just a needy little mutt, humpin’ my boot.”
His hand tugs your strands, not rough but firm, just enough to make you gasp. “Just need your pretty pussy touched, that right?” he tuts softly, pulling you off him, a thin strand of saliva connecting your glistening lips to the tip of his cock. “On your feet, come on.” He guides you up, your legs shaky and chest heaving but his grip steadies you. “There you go, sweetheart.”
The sky’s a deep blue now, the sun long gone, the cruiser’s headlights casting faint shadows. He shoves you back against the hood, the metal cool against the backs of your thighs. His hands are on you immediately, rough and demanding, squeezing your thighs, your tits, like he’s marking his territory.
You bite your lip, trying to steady your breathing, but it’s useless. His fingers dig into your flesh, and your hips jerk instinctively, craving more. “So quiet now, hm?” he hums, his face centimeters from yours. “What happened to that smart little mouth of yours?”
The way he switches from caring to being so dominant, it makes your head spin. You glare at him, but he doesn’t care. His hand slides under the waistband of your shorts, fingers dancing over your soaked panties, and you can’t stop the way your hips roll into his hand, desperate for any touch he’ll give. “All this for me, sweet girl?” he mutters, middle finger slowly circling your sensitive clit, “All wound up, yeah? Need me to set you straight?”
“Fuck—,” you whine, your hips bucking into his hand, you can feel his breath against your lips as he chuckles. He deftly pulls your panties to the side, groaning when his fingers slide through your folds. His lips find your neck and he mouths at the sensitive patch of skin above your pulse, sucking a dark, red splotch into your skin as if you’re his.
You instinctively toss your head back, letting him lick hot, wet stripes from your clavicle to your jaw. He slips a single finger into you and your cunt squelches embarrassingly.
“Feels so good, John—,” you whine into the evening breeze as he pumps his finger in you, curling to hit your g-spot with precision you’ve never experienced. He smiles against your skin before enveloping your lips with his.
It’s hungry, messy, and desperate. His tongue crowds your mouth trying to drink you whole, like he’s been parched, waiting for you to quench his thirst since he first met you. He swallows your whines and pleas for more as he works you open, grinning when he slips in his ring finger alongside the middle and you gasp.
It’s a pathetic attempt, really, to kiss him back—to try to match his fervor. He has you at his mercy and you’re near collapsing into him as he finger fucks you, low heat pooling in your belly as the coil tightens, as you claw at the hood of the car, wishing the cuffs weren’t there—wishing you could claw at him instead.
“Feel you gettin’ all tight ‘round me, dove. Gonna cum? Gonna soak my fingers, doll?” He questions against your lips. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, sucking him in and keeping them there. So greedy, he thinks.
You nod vehemently, biting your lip so you don’t scream—or sob, you aren’t sure how to feel—into the air. He grinds the heel of his palm against your clit, and that’s all you need to finally break. You near black out when you cum, sparks shooting up your spine and making your vision go black for a moment, his fingers lazily working you through your orgasm as your legs shake and your walls damn near break his fingers.
“That’s my girl, knew you could do it,” he hums against your temple, wiping away tears you hadn’t known fallen.
You hadn’t cum that hard in your life. Not by yourself, and most certainly not by any of the lame frat boys you fucked in your college days.
But John isn’t in a frat.
And he certainly isn’t just a boy.
He gently slips his hand out of your pants, bringing his fingers up to his lips before popping them into his mouth. The way his eyes flutter shut, eyebrows pulling together softly as he groans at the taste of you on his tongue, it’s all fucking sinful. You watch him, mesmerized as he pulls the glistening digits out of his mouth with a pop.
He dips his head to yours, kissing you again, but much softer this time, less hungry, more savoring. You can taste the subtle tang of your own juices on his tongue, and you’d be a liar if you said it didn’t turn you on further.
John subtly tugs your shorts and panties down, the fabric whispering against your skin. He fishes for a small key in his pocket, before using them on the cuffs. They open, releasing your raw wrists with a near-silent snick. You feel the moment the cuffs fall away, and your hands move as if drawn by an invisible force, reaching for him, clutching at his jaw, pulling him closer with urgency. Your fingers roam his shoulders, his neck, tracing the hard lines of his body as he spreads your legs, tossing your discarded shorts aside. He settles between them, lazily pumping his cock with his free hand.
“You want this, love?” he whispers against your lips.
You nod almost imperceptibly before crashing your lips back to his, like you just can’t get enough.
He kisses you back like a magnet, but just as quickly, he pulls away again.
“Words,” he says sternly.
You huff, ever the impatient brat. “Put your fucking cock in me or I swear to God, I'll get in my car and drive right out of here.”
“That right?” he scoffs, "You gonna drive off?" He brings his angry red tip to your sodden folds, teasing your sensitive clit with each brush, making you jolt, “You want t’act like a brat,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “Then we can do this the hard way.” He leans in, his lips brushing against yours. “Unless,” he murmurs, ghosting the head of his cock into your hole, “you'd like to ask nicely.”
You bite your lip as you watch him tease you, fighting a groan at the way your cunt squelches and stretches around just his tip.
“She’s so greedy, already tryin’ to suck me in,” he coos, “don’t want to deprive her, now do we?”
You whine as he notches just the head in. He pauses, waiting for you to speak before he moves any further. You open your mouth and your voice just breaks as you leak and drip around him and onto the hood of the car.
“Please, John, Please, I need you—Please, I’ll be so good,” You break and claw at his shoulders and back, desperate to pull him closer to you, to have you flush against him, chest to chest and full of his cock.
“See how gorgeous you sound when you’re nice? See where that gets you, love?” He coos as he inches his cock into you. Your walls are already fluttering, still all worked up from your last orgasm. He has to fight the urge to cum right then and there, gritting his teeth as his grip tightens on your thighs, fingers dimpling the fat as he spears you open.
You’re slack jawed, eyes glassy as he bottoms out. You’ve never been so full and stretched in your life. You can feel him in every orifice of your body, you feel him in the pits of your stomach, in the hollows of your lungs, in the cavern of your throat. His tip nudges against your cervix and all you can manage is a strangled sob.
“Oh none of that, lovie, none of that,” he hums, pecking your lips and wiping the tears from your eyes with the pads of his thumbs.
“Gonna fuck you real nice,” the thumb he used to wipe your tears away travels south, finding your clit and drawing soft, slow circles that have you gushing and relaxing around him, “Just be a good pet and take it.”
You nod as he cradles your head in his hand. He gently moves his hips, inching his cock out of your cunt before sliding back in, squeezing the air out of you like a fucking balloon.
Gasps fall from your lips with each stroke, not entirely from discomfort, but from the sheer intensity of the feeling. He repeats the motion, a slow, deliberate push and pull that sends shivers down your spine. He keeps his thumb on your clit steady, making your legs shake, a burning heat already blossoming low in your belly. You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his clothed frame as you try to anchor yourself against the rising tide of sensation.
He continues, his movements becoming more insistent, more demanding. Each thrust is deeper, faster, steady plaps from where his hips repeatedly meet yours. He knocks the breath out of you, each stroke forcing a soft mewl from your lips, your body trembling with anticipation. The world narrows, focusing on the rhythmic movements of his hips, the feel of his skin against yours, the sound of your ragged breaths mingling with his.
He leans, his lips brushing against your own. “That's it, doll,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Take it all.”
His words ignite a fire within you, a raw, primal need that surges through your veins. You arch your back, meeting his thrusts with a ferocity that surprises even yourself. His pace quickens, his movements becoming more urgent, more erratic, and you know he’s getting close. The burning in your abdomen intensifies, spreading outwards, and throughout your body.
His name falls from your lips in a litany—John, John, John, john—a prayer, both a plea and a demand as his cock plows into you with staggering precision. Your cunt clenches around him, milking every ounce of pleasure from each stroke. He groans, cursing as his grip tightens on your hips, until you wail, toes curling and clawing at his back, your voice hoarse as you squirt all over him. He continues to move, his rhythm relentless, until he too reaches his peak, groaning as his body shudders, as he spurts hot ropes of cum deep inside your cunt.
You’re breathless, spent, your limbs heavy and relaxed. The dampness of sweat cooled on your skin, a pleasant contrast to the lingering heat between your legs. The world slowly comes back into focus and a soft smile plays on your lips as you trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips.
“That was…” you murmur, your voice still rough.
He nuzzles your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “A lot,” he finishes for you, his voice low.
You hum in agreement, tightening your grip on his jaw just slightly. You don't need to say more. The silence that settles between you is comfortable. He shifts slightly, and it reminds you he's still there, sheathed inside you.
You close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his body against yours, a comforting heat that seeps into your skin. Every nerve ending still fires, buzzing with aftershocks.
Slowly, he inches out of you. It feels weird to not be full of him, a sudden emptiness that makes you instinctively clench. He's out, and the cool air against your skin is a stark reminder of the reality of the situation. Of the fact that you’re literally on the side of the road. John reaches for your discarded clothes, picking them up with a casualness that borders on audacious.
He starts with your panties, briefly bending down in front of you as you step into them. He pulls them up your legs, snapping the elastic against your hip. “Sheriff’s discretion,” he murmurs, his eyes glinting with amusement as he fastens your shorts too. “Wouldn't want you getting a ticket for indecent exposure.” Fucking knew it.
You raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “You were just as indecent as I was, if I recall.”
He shrugs as he tugs up his own pants, a picture of nonchalant authority. “Evidence suggests otherwise, doll,” he counters, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Besides,” he adds, his voice dropping to a low rumble, “I'm the one writing the tickets.” He finishes buttoning your shorts, his fingers lingering against your skin.
The world sways for a moment, your legs still a little shaky. He steadies you, his arm around your waist. He walks you back to your car, the silence between you comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. He stops just short of the driver's side door, his hand resting comfortably on your back.
“Drive safe,” he says, his voice softer than you've ever heard it.
You nod, your eyes meeting his. You stand on your tip toes and kiss him, a soft, lingering peck on his lips that’s got him feeling like a teenager again.. He responds in kind, other hand moving to cup your cheek. Judging by how he holds you close, he’s reluctant to pull away.
But he does, and he turns and walks back to his cruiser. Eventually, You watch his car fade away, a strange mix of emotions swirling within you. Then, with a deep breath, you turn and get into your car. The door shuts and you just exhale, replaying everything that just happened.
You reach to crank the keys sitting in the ignition and your eyes fall on a small white rectangle tucked under the windshield wiper. You get back out of the car and pull it free.
It's a ticket. For speeding.
Asshole.
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