#satoru gojo × you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 4 months ago

Text

Animals - G.S.

Synopsis. Yes, your best friend is secretly an alpha. Yes, he acts like a fúcking anímal when he rúts. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alíve.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Gojo, rúts, best-friends-to-lóvers, creampíes, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, knots, MARATHON SÉX, overstím, knots, MATÍNG BÍTES, cúmplay, OMÉGAVERSE AU, pússy-spánking, héats tríggered, semi-public, matíng press, oraI (fem), slight bondagé, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 7.0k (uh-oh)

A/N. Nanami always gets the short end of the stick LMAO, anyway hope y’all have the loveliest week <3

“Satoru, you’re being strange.”

Granted, Gojo Satoru acting weird wasn’t anything new.

Especially not when he’s two hours deep into the most droning meeting you’d bribed him into attending as of late - knee bouncing, fingers tapping, head turned towards that firmly shut door like he just wanted to escape. Needed to.

Then again, even you found your attention waning. Finding whispering with your best friend much more interesting than whatever latest mission statistic Yaga had to present.

“M’doing just peachy, sweetheart.” Gojo smiles - but it looks stilted, pained. And even through his blindfold, you already knew his snowy brows were furrowed. “Who’s the one not listening to ol’ man Yaga now?”

You scoff, narrowing your eyes down at his figure beside you - draped over the cool mahogany table as if he owned the place. “Well- you better not be faking sick to get out of this meeting. Again.”

He only hums, “Don’t worry your pretty lil’ h-head about it, m’kay?”

With a final, tired rub at your temples, you’re turning back to Nanami to ask for all the world where Yaga was on his fifty-page report now-

And then, it hits you.

Suddenly.

Something smells sweet.

Like candy - particularly that sugary, strawberry-flavored kind you’ve had to tell Gojo off on more than one occasion for eating too many of. Tilting your head just a bit, you think you could also catch hints of honey and pine, such a strange, hypnotic combination.

“S-Satoru…” your words come out in a syrupy gush, feeling your head whirl.

“Hm?”

And despite yourself, you’re taking in deep, heavy inhales of the air surrounding you. Hungry. Mouth salivating as that heady, perfumed whiff clouds up all your senses. “Do you- hah- what is- do you smell-”

“Ngh- no?” he’s cutting you off with a barely-audible groan, one you probably wouldn’t have even caught if your abilities weren’t so sharpened right now. Gojo’s movements seem sluggish, languid as if he was moving through molasses when he raises up one hand to massage the back of his neck.

You can only watch as his head droops down onto the long table with a wince.

Strange. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have almost thought-

No, there was no time to be entertaining wild conspiracies. Because at this very moment you’re too caught up flitting through the dates of all your previous heats in your mind. Urgently.

Three weeks.

Your next heat wasn’t due for another three weeks. So, sure, you didn’t take your suppressants just yet but, that really didn’t matter, did it?

It wasn’t normal for jujutsu sorcerers to be anything other than a beta - and as an omega, you knew firsthand just how difficult it was to fight tooth and nail just to be able to sit at this table.

Historically, any other faction of society would rather be caught dead than outed, and have their second gender be taken advantage of by the very curses you were supposed to exorcize. Forced to face the stigma of alphas and omegas being too “unstable” or “vulnerable” to be trusted with missions.

This was the very thing you’d been trying to avoid ever since you argued your way into studying at Jujutsu Tech - losing control.

Especially now.

But god, you were burning up. It smelled so sexy.

And, taking a sweeping glance around the table of betas - at your fellow sorcerers, those grim elders, and your disheveled best friend - that left only you to explain the scent.

You were only thankful that their noses weren’t as powerful as yours. Clinging onto this as a saving grace, with a shaky gulp, you gently nudge Nanami on his side. “Hey- Ken?”

“Yes?” And maybe it was the heat - whatever this was - but Nanami’s deep baritone sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself leaning in traitorously closer to his heated body. His jaw ticks, “Is something wrong? You look…”

“Satoru’s also-”

“So what?”

Without warning, one of his hands comes to splay out across your forehead. Just a mere touch has him sucking in a sharp gasp, “You feel warm, I think you have a fever. You can’t continue the meeting like this.”

You shake your bleary head in protest.

“I won’t let you.” Nanami’s voice hardens with a tone of finality, and yet, you still find yourself trying to whirl around to look at Gojo. Maybe for help, maybe for a distraction to escape when your colleague speaks again - this time directed at Yaga. “Principal Yaga, it seems my dear friend here is sick.” Circling an arm around your shoulders to pull you up from your seat and onto weak legs. “If you’ll please excuse us, I will escort-”

Nanami stills - everything stills.

Everyone stills when his voice tapers off with a ragged grunt, and you feel his chest heave in unsteady breaths. So close now that you can mark the exact moment Nanami’s eyes widen, “Are you…”

Shit.

Shit shit shit-

“Wait.” Yaga’s voice bellows reproachfully. “Is this- That smell-” But even he can’t find the words, slumping back down into his seat.

Truly, the scent was so saturated now, so primal that even the most stubborn of unmated betas were sneaking peeks at you. You bite your lips raw at another glossy gush from your already-heated cunt. It was so embarrassing - your heats have never acted like this before, let alone come three weeks early.

Sure, perhaps that one time on your very first day at Jujutsu Tech itself - which was embarrassing by itself. And, yet, your mind had never been clearer than it was right now.

Eyes sliding over to a familiar, trembling mop of white hair - never been needier.

Fuck, what was your delirious self thinking-

As if drawn by an invisible string, Nanami’s inching impossibly into your hot proximity, hazel eyes falling half-lidded when he takes in a deep whiff. Grumbling, “My love-” Another. And another. Nose almost grazing your pulse now, “-you’re in-”

Slam!

“Out.”

It’s a threat.

That was the first thought that slammed into you, and then the voice continues, slow, snarling like a predator on the edge of ripping something to shreds. “I won’t repeat myself.”

Before you finally understand, it’s a command.

There’s one strong hand around your front, pinning you against a sculpted chest. Something about it has your pulse booming in your ears, fingers clawing at that pale wrist at your shoulder. Yet, he doesn’t even flinch.

Nanami, however, reluctantly detaches his hands from your body, and you finally have enough strength to look towards the origin of the words. Only for your glassy gaze to meet with a towering Gojo Satoru standing at his full height - when did he even get up?

Jaw clench, sharp canines bared, blindfold dangling haphazardly around his neck - ah, he looked like a man that crawled from hell and back simply to take you all along with him.

With you at lucky number one.

First in his line of sight. Close enough that you can finally smell him.

Oh.

And you swear you saw his eyes tint with the faintest blue lightning when your own scent perks up. Boring into you for just a millisecond before narrowing his gaze down at a stupefied Nanami, cracking the kinks in his neck. “Unless ya wanna watch.” He bares the rest of the room with his flooring glare, “Unless all of you want to watch.”

It’s chaos.

They understood - perhaps long before even you did.

Chairs clatter, the desk trembles, and that safe haven of the door is swung open. That weezing council of elders are first to stumble over one another into the hallway, Yaga following shortly with a wordless sigh.

Until the only ones left are you and him - and Nanami.

Blond brows raising, his eyes flit frantically between you and a possessive Gojo. Sputtering out, each word jagged, and dry as if they’re being wrenched from his chest. “What is the meaning of this- We- I thought you were a- a beta.”

Everyone did, and Nanami was speaking what your mind couldn’t right now.

Gojo Satoru always presented himself as a beta - never affected by your heats, never disappearing once every few months for his ruts as you remember Suguru did. He always seemed so normal - perhaps the one thing about him that was. Unaffected by the stupid little trials and tribulations of alphas and omegas in sorcery.

But it was undeniable, he was an alpha.

And taking a deep inhale of his saccharine sweet perfume - so overpowering - he might just be the strongest you’ve ever encountered. How fitting.

“You thought.” Gojo’s voice was clipped, rumbling with a low growl that sent electrifying shivers down to your very cunt. And his tone just makes Nanami jolt. “And I can’t right now so I- fuck-”

Gojo’s body wracks with a violent shudder, making him hunch over - with you in tow. His hot breath puffs out in feverish pants near your ear, abs clenching as another velvety wave of pheromones emit from him.

You mewl when your body is jostled in his toned arms, nudging the very curve of your ass - tight uniform skirt hiking up just enough - so that you push in a slow drag against something rock-hard. Massive. Weeping out in a sticky damp spot that seeps into your skin.

“Hah-” you’re gasping, face swirling to nose up the crook of his neck - where the candied scent was most prominent. “Toru–”

There’s a gasp - and it’s not from you this time.

Both you and Gojo are snapping your dazed heads upwards at a frozen Nanami, his hand shooting to cover his nose. Eyes wild- “I-”

Before thinking better of it, it seems like Nanami opted to keep some part of his sanity as he abruptly turns on his heels without a second glance backwards. Marching robotically, the only moment he stops is once he’s at the doorway. One hand tugging on his suddenly too-tight pants, the other on the doorknob. Eyes still trained forwards when he calls out gruffly, “Don’t break the table, insurance doesn’t cover it.”

SLAM!

Finally alone.

Your vision swims - is the door even locked? Is this- God, you feel hot. So hot - too hot.

And Gojo’s burning up, arms wrapping around you so tight that you could feel the way his skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. He breathes out into your ear, “My pretty girl…”

“Oh sh-shit–” you’re whimpering, big fat tears welling up behind your eyes. And without wasting a second, as soon as it splatters hotly on your best friend’s skin, he licks a long, lazy stripe to lap at the hazy saltiness. Babbling away, “Feel so dizzy hngh- and you- you’re an alpha?”

Honestly, part of you still didn’t want to believe it.

But as soon as he husks out a gravelly moan, as soon as his tongue dips down a wet pathway to the scent gland on your neck - you already know you won’t be making it out of this alive. “Why did you hide it from me?”

“Mhm- fuck! m’sorry.” he grunts into your skin, slightly muffled. Nipping ever-so-slightly, “M’sorry m’sorry- had to- my sudden rut made my- hah, made my pretty omega go into heat, didn’t it?”

His soft palms glide down your trembly body, greedily kneading every dip and curve that comes his way. He’s lost. So, so lost.

Plastering his lips down every inch of skin he could reach, that sweet scent sticking to you like a sloppy second skin. And you can barely even think when you feel his swollen dick just twitch behind you, a fresh wave of swelteringly hot precum sloshing right through your silken skirt.

You whimper when you’re rutting messily back and forth, and he drags a thick thumb to pry your spit-glossed lips open. “Aww, poor baby. Tell me- fuck tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

And all you can really give him right now is a circular swivel of your hips, which evidently wasn’t enough.

Because Gojo’s furious tip only hardens, and he hisses with a slight tug up your skirt. Cold fingers dancing ravenously up the edge of your drenched panties, gliding the very rounded tip of his index slowly across your sopping slit.

“Tha’s not enough.” he snickers, and suddenly you’re hit with another wave of emanating pheromones. Enough to make you just slobber a glistening coating all down his long digits. “Use your ah- w-words like a big girl now. Because when I start…” His teeth find your earlobe, and his fingers find themselves planting a dripping wet slap! across your puffed-up clit. Unwavering. Unapologetic. “I won’t be able to stop.”

“Please, Toru.” That cute little nickname makes him jump, makes him throw his head back with a low moan. Brows scrunching together as if pained. “Don’t want you to stop-”

Maybe you were going to say more - maybe you would’ve called him that nickname and driven him even crazier.

But Gojo doesn’t wait to find out.

In one, fluid motion he’s picking up your body into the easiest princess carry you two would’ve laughed at if this was one of those romcoms you watched together. Just splaying you out on your back across the cool table, he situates himself in the perfect position between your legs.

Oh, how he loved this view. How he’s spent so many ruts just like this imagining this view.

“F-fuck- You have no idea how- how crazy it drove me.” rasping groans drag out from his throat, strained with every slow drag of his cock down the front of your now-see-through panties. “How wild-” You’re nearly screaming when his canines dig in to that soft spot underneath your ear. “-to pretend I didn’t know you smelled so hah- so fucking delicious.”

And then you feel him still - alert, ready.

Chest heaving, an almost chilling tone dipping into his words when he spits, “Except when you smell like him.”

Your jaw falls slack when the temperature in the room heats up another few heady degrees, and the sheer power of your two scents mixing together is almost maddening.

“He- he? Toru, what do you-” you’re gasping out in tiny huffs, while he busies himself with biting and licking down your exposed neck. Enough to leave you smeared all over with marks. “Who- Kento?”

“Oh, sayin’ another man’s name when you’re with- fuck- me?” Gojo’s bucking powerfully into you, his body was pinning you down. Scorching, now. “Such a naughty omega- I should kill him for how he touched you.”

Truly, his alpha was fucking clawing at him to trek out of this room right now and finish off the job - but, no, you were too hypnotic. And Gojo Satoru, the strongest, was no match for you.

The wet thwack of his fingers once more kisses in a rude smack against your clit, making you squeal. Ringing across your thundering ears, he swears at that broken, blissful noise from you. “Fuckin’ oh, would ya let him see you like this, too? Let him touch you like th-this?”

And Gojo looked so starved, velvety blindfold tickling your chin when he leans in close. Lips ghosting your own - but not quite. You’re suddenly brought back to the very first thought you had - that this is about to be a bloodbath.

“I wouldn’t–” you bite back in your honeyed tone, and you can feel your omega just purr in satisfaction. “N’ it’s not my fault that someone-”

Smack! Harder, sprinkled with tiny bolts of electricity.

“Correct.”

It’s breathed out into your mouth - a quick, hedonistic peck. Gojo just taunting your sanity before he’s pulling away with a gruff string of profanity, like it hurt him just as much as it did to you.

You feel your slick dribble down into a saturated puddle below you. And the mere sight of it makes Gojo just reel his hips deliriously forwards, grinding his massive bulge across your dripping cunt until you could see it soil a fountainy dark patch on his pants.

“F-fuckin’-” his eyes roll to the back of his head at how hot you were. How pouring wet. Wrangling your quivering legs painfully stretched open, “-woman of my dreams.”

With two, thick fingers hooked over the hem of your skirt, it’s being torn off in an easy pull. Falling somewhere in a pile of impractical tatters onto the meeting room floor, along with your shirt.

And as soon as it’s off, Gojo’s only growing more feral. More hungry.

He’s drooling from one corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t even notice at this point. Honestly, barely even realizing the burning pain when he falls to the floor on his knees. Clattering haphazardly, insatiably nosing up your jittery inner thighs.

“Oh sweetheart- oh my pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl–” he’s breathing out, head lolling drunkenly against your legs. And Gojo gulps when he spreads your panties away with a wet glide of his thumb, just enough to see your messy hole winking up at him eagerly. All soaked and needy. “M’gonna have so much fun being yours.”

He kisses wetly through your panties - without warning, without even breathing. Just surging his pretty face into the heated crevice between your thighs, taste buds on his pinkish tongue grazing up the soaked fabric.

Like he was addicted.

“Oh- oh my god-” you’re mewling out, lower lip wobbly at every sultry swirl of Gojo’s tongue over your pussy lips, painting your messy hole in every mesh of slick and spit he could conjure up. “It feels too- hah–”

You were always so sensitive during your heats, every single one of your senses heightened to the max. So it made your mind all overwhelmingly melty inside to have his steaming hot mouth on your equally ravenous cunt. Hungry.

Yeah, he was addicted.

Dragging a few fingers in-between your glistening folds, scissoring them shamefully open to spit. Once. Twice.

Some of it splatters strayly onto the start of your thighs, which Gojo glady licks up all over again to stream out a thick wad back onto your silt. Until your cunt was drooling translucent dredges of everything he has to give, he smears his messy thumb in easy rotations around your clit. Filthy.

“So gorgeous- so good f’me.” Gojo titters, biting down teasingly on the very edge of your panties. And he can’t hide that fucked-out little groan when pulls it back, back, back to just snap! it meanly right on your cunt. “Fuck- you taste as s-sweet as you smell, mmm–”

You’re yelping when his long tongue draws a slow circle around the edge of that first ring of muscle, just barely pushing back against how your gummy walls are trying to hug him. To milk him for everything he has.

“S-such a tease-” you whine, fingers tangling into his cloudy white hair. Soft - the silken tresses smoothed over your palm, slotting between your digits when you pull his mouth roughly onto your pussy. “Jus’ want you on me- ngh!”

“Ohh ya can still t-talk easy, huh?” Gojo raises an amused brow from in-between your legs, that won’t be possible soon with how he’s going to have you. “Well then, don’t you dare beg me to go easy on you, girl.”

And he keeps the panties on - fuck, he keeps the panties on when mashing those ragged, rosy lips of his in a steamy make-out with your cunt. It’s as if he was breathing you in, so close that you could feel every clench of Gojo’s jaw, every grind of his chin into the very base of your pussy.

“Sh-shitttt-” he spits, stray wisps of white covering his eyesight. Dragging you on his tongue through pure instinct. “Shit wait- ah you’re so fuckin’ so-”

Unable to even finish his sentences with that usually-sharp tongue of his. No, that tongue right now was too occupied with the steady, repetitive drag along your snug channel. Bullying into your sodden sensitive spots, thrusting back and forth back and forth back and-

And his fingers, oh those infamous fingers were straying back onto the sensitive nub of your clit. Drawing tight, tempestuous circles that have you keening at the dual stimulation, thighs stuttering to an embarrassed close.

“Open.”

It’s just like before - and Gojo’s using that annoyingly baritone tone of his that hits you at your very core, that makes your omega snap open your legs for him.

Even you’re surprised at how pliant your body acts before your mind right now - and so is Gojo. though, his expression doesn’t show it, every bit of that feral animal that scared everyone out of this room not too long ago.

“That’s it- that’s it–” he can’t hold back, hands glued to the globes of your ass to pin you still against his mouth. “Ha- so fuckin’ different when ya listen to me, so fucking sweet.” Breathing in deeply, “Were ya giving off this scent so Nanami could do this, too?”

Thwack!

Another mocking slap against your clit - not enough to make you cry, but with just enough buzzing jujutsu to make your batting lashes teary - forces you to find your words.

And fuck, Gojo swears there’s no sweeter music than the sound of your voice - especially when you’re moaning like that.

Voice breaking into a whine, accompanied by a few raw clenches of your pussy around his furious tongue. “N-no fuck- don’t know-” your hips arch into the most perfect curve he’s ever seen. One that makes his mouth water, cock straining against his pants. “Toru- jus’ want you, wanna cum- wanna- want you so bad.”

Fuck - and who was he to not go along with each and every one of your pretty whims?

Pussydrunken already. He’d read about this - but he really had no clue how potent an omega in heat was, never having spent a rut with one. That little special occasion was always saved for you but, ah, that was a story for another time.

“M’gonna cum- hah- so- close-”

Right now, he couldn’t think of anything other than how gorgeous you would look when you cum. How delicious - your sweetened scent raising up by a few notches, taking over his sentences.

He feels his cock just throb at the mere thought.

Which is why Gojo’s pulling away with one final, sodden kiss on your pussy. You feel the curvaceous curl of his smirk against your cunt, and a deep, filthy inhale.

“Nah.” he smiles a glistening smile up at you - grin glossed all over with a sheen of your sweet, sweet juices. And the rest of his face was almost-obscured with a curtain of his white bangs, but you still think you could peek the glow of his inhuman eyes through them. Powerful. “Don’ think you’re c-cumming anywhere other than on my knot first, pretty girl.”

And he’s so tall that Gojo’s blocking out the dim meeting room lights when he stands up - slow, smug, making you spend each passing second in such anticipation.

Face expressionless - almost hypnotized - when he shrugs his shirt off. Lips parted into a soft oh! eyes half-lidded, heaving he slides his belt off almost lazily.

It clatters! to the ground, and he’s sliding down his drenchingly wet boxers with it - leaving a gleaming trail of precum down the front of his toned pelvis. Letting his achy cock finally spring free, he hisses when it hits the too-cool air.

And you do, too - though, for much different reasons.

Because Gojo’s so unfairly big - fitting, for an alpha of his stature. Blushed the prettiest pink at his rotund head that matched his cheeks right now, gradiating down into creamy tufts of white at his thick base. Showing the starting of his knot swelling. It made you wonder whether he tasted as sweet as he smelled. So hard it looked painful, curving into a long, solid shaft that glides a wet smear across his washboard abs. It makes your omega just preen, rabid to have him inside you right now now now-

“Heh, impatient lil’ thing, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” Gojo huffs out in a heady bout of laughter. “Can practically feel yer omega ngh- calling out to me, is this what you want?”

You claw ferally at the milky display of his back, branding him in your own way. “Yes- please-”

A sudden rip! makes you realize you still had your panties on - up until a few seconds ago, at least. Jostling him ever-so-slightly closer, you mewl when the rounded tip of his angry cock nudges against your pussy lips. Melding into a slight kiss that already makes him stream steaming hot ropes of precum.

And if you were in any better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed the way the light above flicker, fizzing with electricity just as much as you were right now.

“Heheh- oh y-you made me like this, ya realize?” he chuckles out - but his voice didn’t show even a hint of humor. It’s like he was out of control, out of rationality with each languid drag in-between your folds. Babbling, “You threw me into- fuck fuck fuck this is all- your-”

Honestly, Gojo’s so utterly shocked he managed to grit even half that sentence out.

Because every sloppy second has him grinding upwards in the tiniest of ruts into your sung cunt, tiny, mindless grinds that make a low ah! ah! ah! rip from his throat.

“Open that mouth f’me, sweetness-”

As soon as you do, you’re feeling a thick, glossy stream of saliva slosh onto your lolling tongue. Mouth wrenched shut until you swallow - and you do. Happily. Filthily.

That’s enough to make Gojo lose it.

And he’s plunging headfirst into your toasty insides, shoving back that tiny bit of resistance before your elastic walls are milking him so well. Greedily swallowing up every one of his generous inches, and it only seemed like more was to come.

“Oh shit- ohhh sh-shit-” His eyes are rolling to the very back of his head, mouth hanging open, that tiny trickle of drool splatters onto your skin.

“T-Toruu—” your cunt was addictive, and so were those moans of yours. Craning your neck upwards, “Kiss me, please.”

For a second, he’s leaning in - making it seem like he was about to smear that firmly placed gloss all over his lips onto yours. But Gojo only sneaks a peck at the corner of your mouth, then the other - and then one on the tip of your nose.

“I will I will-” he’s musing, giggles bursting from his lips. “Once we’ve mated, can’t get too greedy at once now? Can I?”

But oh how his actions spoke otherwise, because Gojo’s powerful hips absolutely refused to stop until he was well and fully buried into the hot depths of your cunt. Sheathing himself in all your soppingly wet walls, the sheer tightness was enough for him to throw his head back, heavy balls squeezing. In and out in and out.

“Ohhh fuck-” Two hands of his roughly attach themselves to your hips, pitching up your needy whines when he drools down your pussy even more thoroughly. “You sure do make it f-fuckin’ hard though-”

You whine when your ass hits against something bulging and hot, whirling those dazed eyes of yours down at the intrusion.

“Shit-” you’re gasping, eyes widening. And the sheer awe in your eyes is enough to make him grow, blood pumping to every thick inch of his cock until he was expanding even girthier, molding your pliant walls to his size. “That’s your knot- I-I-”

“I-I-I-” Gojo mocks, in a voice octaves higher than usual. Fucking the rest of that sentence with a harsh roll of his hips, knocking bruisingly at your cervix. “C’mon now ah- tell me- you can t-tell me anything.” Kissing softly at your ear lobe, zaps of jujutsu making you jump. “M’your best friend, right?”

How ironic.

All you can gift him in response is a few soft whimpers that only make him wilder.

“Fuck!” you’re keening when another one of his slams leave you gasping for air, feeling like he was clashing into your very womb. Glissading a deep, wet glide of his fat, curved tip across your spongy cervix, his breath hitches at the slight recoil. “I want it-”

Your words make him almost falter with his ruthless pace, and you take it upon yourself to just drag him down by his muscled shoulders. Until he was hunching over you, abs flexing against your front, “I want your hah- knot in m-”

And you can’t even finish the sentence - you don’t know if you want to.

Because just that syrupy jumble of words is enough to make Gojo Satoru snap.

To cut you off with a rough growl, teeth bared at you, in a split-second he has you limp legs thrown over his shoulder. Biceps flexing in such a mouth-watering way when he makes them lock at the ankle, bending down, down, down into the meanest little mating press your joints would allow.

The change in angle has you scrambling - has him scrambling to crash his leaky head into your swollen g-spot. Hitting that bulging bullseye with no regrets - over. And over. And over and over and-

“Oh, marry me sweetheart.” he’s panting into your mouth. His pulsing girth rummaging your insides so good, dragging every ridge and thumping vein on his shaft against your sweet spots. He was so big that you felt like your syrupy cunt had already forgotten what it felt like without him pounding into you. Suckling wetly at the corner of your lips, “Marry me marry me- oh, fuck- gonna give you m-my knot. Don’ think I could go on hah- l-living without ya, pretty.”

He was feral - eyes glowing a blazing blue, sparks of lightning bolting down his milky skin. And you swear with each speeding cadence of his, the lights flickered on and off.

Every slippery smack of his tight, cum-filled balls has you seeing stars, yearning for the additional burning stretch of being plugged by his knot.

You’re throwing your arms over his neck, reeling him in like he was your prey, though his hips were devouring you. “W-we’re not even dating and you want me t-to be your hngh-”

“-wife!” He kisses every inch of your face, down your neck, over that soft scent gland of yours - now so overstimulating his senses with your sweet scent that he’s almost forgotten what his own smelled like. Buzzes of electricity skimming down your skin with each touch. He’s groaning, “Be my wife- please- fuck, I need you to be my wife.” Planting an almost-french kiss on that one sweet spot. Once. twice. “M-my mate- sh-shit-”

And you already knew Gojo was close with the way his pretty eyes are almost fluttering shut, the way his hefty balls clamp. Twitching in desperation, his thickened base pumps in even deeper - harder. As if he was trying to rut every single inch into your clingy depths.

Every single inch.

“Mhm–” you moan, feeling the staggering stretch of his even hotter cock shape your walls. “I wanna- wanna be your-”

You don’t even bother finishing your sentence - and neither does Gojo let you.

Because it only takes a few more sloppy jackhammers before he’s finally sinking his taut knot into you. The stretch is so insane you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, being plugged so suddenly full.

And then you’re hurtling headfirst into your high - toes curling, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes, your spine bowing so sluttily into his. And Gojo-

Oh, Gojo had his mouth sagging open the moment he felt his massive knot intrude against your silken sweet walls, stretching that snug channel around all of him. And he wishes he had the willpower to look down at the heavenly sight, he wishes he could do anything but sink his teeth down hard into your precious scent gland as he cums and cums and cums.

The lights burst, shards deflecting off the limitless he’d coated over the both of you.

Teeth breaking skin, metal tasting on his tongue, scents tangling together into one now.

You do your best to bite him back on his heady neck, breaking through Gojo’s milky skin to reveal a set of pretty pink indents.

Finally yours. Finally his.

“O-oh, pretty girl–” he hiccups, voice cracking. Hips not moving even the tiniest second of momentum while he stuffs your tight pussy full of his potent seed. “My wife- my mate.”

And Gojo almost bawls when the tight lock of his knot prevents him from plunging into you as deeply and thoroughly as he wanted to right now. Sobbing down big fat tears that splatter! against your lips while he kisses your mind dizzy.

You could feel the syrupy slosh of his cum inside you with each one of his dragged-out grinds, milking your orgasm for as long as possible. Unmoving. Unapologetic in how he was spitting out such voluminous loads of milky white seed that overfilled you.

“Shit- so much-” you’re whining, still clinging to him. And you don’t think he even hears you right now, mind blanking. “I feel so full, Toru-”

But you didn’t have to babble out those words for him to know, somehow, he just knew. Knew every single thing about you, but couldn’t dredge up the words to respond.

Too pussydrunken to do anything but bite you on your scent gland all over, he kisses a wet trail up to your lips, “Now you- really hafta m-marry me heh.”

Bang!

Gojo’s fist comes crashing down on the rickety table - it’s too much for him.

Those ringing squelches and the way you were sucking out every single drop of his cum makes his sensitive shaft twitch. Tears blimping up into his eyes again, more and more velvety ribbons ooze out. “My wife- my wife my wife my wife- my mate-”

It’s just about all he can say - like a mantra. Over and over against your lips, until the peaks of your pleasure turn into mere tingles, until Gojo’s own knot is softening down. Slightly.

Just enough that he can pull out-

“Toru, what-”

“Shhh, pretty girl-” He’s kissing your puffed-up clit with another spank from his trembly fingers, and then an actual kiss. Mouth slotting over the mess he’s made below. Grazing all over like a creamy gloss. Filthy. “Rut’s just started.”

His ravenous tongue drags out your overstimulated high, and you’re clinging onto a lock of his snowy hair for dear life.

“Please-” you beg, voice shot. You don’t even know what you were begging for, but god was Gojo Satoru happy to let himself be used. “Please please please, Toru-”

Oh, his fingers tighten on your thighs - imprinting neat patterns of crescents. Animalistic, in how Gojo just drags your twitchy body forwards.

His eyes were drooping shut, gaze crazed - frantic where he looked you right in the eyes from down below. Head craning to ram his stretchy tongue even deeper, quirking up deftly like he’s wanting to bruise his taste buds along your walls.

Slurping at and collecting the creamy mess on his tongue - only to spit it back into your sloppy hole. Messy.

Even with the dark, lightless room - with only those stray sparks of power to accompany you two - such loud squelches echo across his own ears. And just by the noise Gojo could tell how wet you were - as if you weren’t drooling over the lower half of his face, up to his cheekbones, already.

Sticking to your inner thighs in an obscene drip! drip! drip!

It’s so shameful and you love it.

And you love that you’re so cockdrunken that you aren’t even sure when you’re cumming - if you’re cumming. Whether those sudden crashes of pleasure were because of your nth orgasm tonight, or because of the way Gojo kisses you with another thwack!

Adrenaline and electricity coursing through your veins, ears thundering with your rapid pulse. Oh god, you never knew a heat could feel this good - this maddening.

You moan, and he’s eagerly lapping up every sweet bead of slick you have to offer, like a man that hasn’t had an ounce of water in weeks. Brows furrowed, jaw sagging open-

“Shit shit shit-” he’s rasping out, and the very slide of his fingers across your skin sends waves of powerful jujutsu - somehow bunching at your clit just right. “M’cumming- m- m’still cumming fuck- won’t- stop-”

Just as soon as your orgasm is ending, Gojo’s is just starting. Like he’d been holding back on this from the moment he’d started eating out your overspilling pussy - happily.

And exactly on time, too, because you barely even have the time to catch your breath before Gojo’s standing on his two unsteady feet. Just splitting you open on all of his red, raw inches - uncaring for your little mewls and those tears.

Because you were sucking him up madly.

Spearheading his swollen cock into you like he was trying to fuck another orgasm out of you. His strokes are long, harsh, showing off all the years of strength he built up boasting the title of the strongest.

And this hastily put-together mating press has his cum just overspilling out of you by now, dribbling down in wet globs that made you wonder how much more he could fill you up. It seeps in a white circle underneath your ass, slicking you back and forth along the wood at each harsh ram.

Again. And again. And again and again and-

“Made me this- hngh- this way, y’know?” he spits into your mouth - followed by a slurred string of swears. Every time his heftily smacking balls clench, you could feel the table creak under pressure. “Sat next to me with that fucking skirt- smelling so fucking- ngh- good- do you even know how delicious ya are?”

You can’t answer - because he’s back to squeezing in his staggering knot into you. Sparks exploding out from the corner of his scrunched-up eyes, forehead knocking into yours.

Gojo kisses you like he couldn’t get enough, letting you taste all the sin from just before.

“Three weeks away, huh?” That accusatory little inflection in his words isn’t lost on you, only growing stronger and stronger as his staccato grows sloppier. “Have your- hah- heat in three weeks and fuck- I could just- smell it on you-”

It’s incredible. Sliding your frenzied bodies across on another, stinging with skin-on-skin and how your gooey walls constricted around him.

“Showing off in that scent and that skirt-” His eyes are almost bulging out of his head now, hips stuttering like just the very thought of that pile of fabric at the corner of the room drove him mad. “-fuck that skirt- always fuckin’ hated it. Hated how Nanami loves hngh- it. Made me lose fucking control a-and you know what?”

One of his hands curls around your throat now, the other taking hold of your left - kissing your ring finger pointedly. “I’ll do it all over again if it means I’d get to have ya like this, my mate.”

And just then he’s coating your melty insides in a creamy sheen, that overworked divot right at the end of his dick was firmly pressed up against your g-spot. Plugging you with his knot, and you swear you could see a little inflation forming where he was filling you to your limits.

Cumming and cumming so hard it’s like he couldn’t stop - didn’t want to stop until his body practically forced him.

Gojo’s biting down hard exactly over those deep indents on your scent glands when his gushing spurts of seed turn into almost-painful blanks.

Over and over, he’s cumming nothing.

“L-love you, Toru-” you’re babbling out, reeling him in to peck the corners of his smirking mouth.

Utterly fucked out of your mind enough that you don’t even register the loud boom! from somewhere in the distant grounds of Jujutsu Tech. Barely even care that the overpriced meeting table is now sagging on one side, just about in splinters.

“Aww, m-my c-cockdrunk baby–” he titters shakily into your glossed-pout. “Love you, too, always have always- will-” Patting the bulge on your stomach, before kissing you gently, “Ever since I th-threw ya into heat the ngh- first time ya met me.”

Oh.

And later, you’ll learn that that almost-deafening boom was the generator for Jujutsu Tech, mysteriously bursting after a sudden spike in atomic pressure in the surrounding area. You’ll find out that every piece of furniture in the surrounding buildings had moved about six inches in your direction, and that the now-ruined table was an irreplaceable heirloom.

But for now, all you register is soft.

Warm.

With a gasp you realize you’re in a bedroom - Gojo’s bedroom.

“Did- did you teleport-”

“Mhm-” he pants, and in the dim lighting you could spot his leering grin. Satisfied. Pussydrunken. And you could feel his knot swell up hotly, halfway through to its previous size.

You sputter, trying so desperately to find the words. Difficult, when Gojo still had you wrapped around his thick cock, all the way up to his fat, drenched base. Swiveling his cock in slow, sultry grinds for how much he couldn’t ram exactly how he wanted to right now. “Wh-why didn’t you do this before–?”

“Because-” he licks over his mating mark on you. “-wanted to show off what animals we were.” His grin grows wider, as does his tired cock. And that dangling blindfold around his neck ends up around your wrists, tying you up pliantly for him. “What animals we will be.”

---

Right now, all Nanami can think about is you you you- Yet,he doesn’t expect to see you for about the next week. Or, at least, that’s the hopeful side of him - knowing Gojo, and the state he’d left the meeting room in, he won’t see you again for a month.

Possibly not walking.

Perhaps, that’s for the best. Looking down at his swollen, throbbing cock - one fist wrapped around its thick base, the other around his shaky phone, he clicks on that familiar app.

Shit, his rut is near. Now, actually.

Nanami sighs, it’s hard pretending not to be animals.

A/N. Was soooo giggling writing about how the table was some heirloom.

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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gojoscinnamonroll · 1 month ago

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dating nerdy bf! gojo— everyone thinks your sweet little dork of a boyfriend is innocent, but little do they know how much of a horny freak he is, especially when you’re sitting on his lap in the library studying; his weakness.

you were too concentrated on jotting notes down to realize his hard length was poking you from underneath your skirt nor hear his breathing starting to become heavy until he moves your hair to the side and rasps in your ear, “baby…you look so beautiful when you’re focused.”

confused, you flip your head around to see your pathetic boyfriend in a complete haze– flushed cheeks, eyes full of hunger, lips glossy and red. “satoru, are you okay? need some water? a snack? we can take a bre–“ he cuts you off.

“no.” he breathed out, “what i need…” starting to grind up against your heat, “is to feel you around my cock.” groaning against your neck as his veiny hand snakes around the other side.

you can’t help but feel the slight warmth starting to take over your face once he begins grinding his aching dick back and forth against your throbbing cunt, the stimulation nearly bringing you over the edge until you realize the two of you were still in the library, bringing your shaky hand over your mouth to muffle your slight whimpers.

“toru, we can get introuble if someone catches us right now.” you quietly whine, “can we finish this first then we can go…” almost slipping out a moan when he bucks his hips into you even faster.

“no, can’t mmh wait, need you now.” he mewled out (almost) out loud, that you had to turn around to shush him with your hand and caught a glimpse of his fogged up, tilted eyeglasses almost falling off his face and his mouth dangling open.

the roll of his hips against you came to a halt as his body began to squirm underneath yours, his eyes rolling back and sweat starting to drip down the sides of his face as he pants again your hand, the tent in his pants now becoming a stained wet spot. “so sorry sweets i-“ profusely apologizing. you sigh and get up from his lap.

“yeah yeah, c’mon lets go before someone notices you stained your pants you nerd.”

tags: @beanietopia @cuntphoric @alifromanotherworld @takumasimp @webism @yemmuisworld @xixflower

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c4toru · 25 days ago

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getting insane backshots from satoru sign me up!

“oh.. o-oh fuckkk toru!” you mewl, your face is shoved into his navy blue bedsheets while your ass is up, back arched intensely.

satoru had gotten a new haircut just in time for valentine’s day. the moment he stepped through the creaking wooden door to your shared home, you practically pounced on him! “yeah? feels soo good huh.. h-heh” he giggles softly, his rough hands gripping onto the plump of your ass. his rotund tip was reaching deep inside your sobbing cunt, pressing directly on your sweet spot causing you to belt out.

“nngh fuckkk p-please toru, harder ah!” you’re reaching your arms back, subliminally begging him to grab you. he latches onto your hands, using them as momentum while he pounds himself into you. “h-harder? mmngh- this isn’t enough for you pretty girl..?” he smiles, the melody of your ass slapping against his hips grows louder.

he releases your arms before pressing his coarse hands into the dimples of your back. he’s angling his hips to hit you deep in that spot you love. “more! m-more fuckkk- just like that..!” you whine, drooling with your lips slightly parted in awe. you can barely keep your eyes open with how good he’s fucking into your sweet cunt.

“c’mon pretty, fuck me y-yeah?” he slaps your ass, motioning for you to bounce yourself back onto him. you twist your body, left hand gripping your ass cheek while turn back slightly to look him in the eyes as you slide your wet pussy onto him. you feel his hefty balls slap onto your puffy clit deliciously while he’s gripping your ankles trying to spread your legs further apart. “g-give it to me toru.. wan’ it please,” you’re pouting, now you’ve really done it.

he pushes your head back into the sheets, fingers wrapping around the back of your neck. “such a f-fucking slut- shiiit.. m’gonna cum, where do ya want it- hah..” you got him whining now, he was done for. “i-inside! don’t miss- nngh..please m’cumming!” your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his lengthy cock, gushing all over him as you chase your high. he’s rutting his hips into you as long white spurts shoot into your womb causing you to mewl.

“f-feel so full toru..” you whimper as you caressing his arm, his chest coming down flushed right to your back. he’s giving you sloppy kisses to your lips that are gleaming with spit, moaning deeply into your mouth. “yeah? sweet girl.. h-heh..” he moans, still periodically grinding his hips up into you. “one more?” he suggests, you grip his chin, planting a wet kiss onto his lips before tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth. “mhm..” you nod.

a/n : not proofread ; currently working on a nerd!suguru fic so i just wanted to post a little drabble in the mean time | likes & reblogs are appreciated!!

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ridingthatd · 1 month ago

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your boyfriends fat cock was so sensitive, his mushroomy red tip was leaking with white precum dripping down to the thickness of his cock that was surrounded with veins pumping with blood. he had a hairy happy trail connecting his belly button to his delicious dick.

he was looking down at you with heavy eyes filled with lust as you place a gentle wet kiss on his angry fat tip. his hips immediately thrust into your mouth as a reflex begging for more. "mmmmm-! baby please-".

you coo at him before circling his clit with your wet tongue licking every drop of precum before sucking his tip inside your mouth with a sloppy pop. you knew how crazy it drove him when you suck his sensitive tip like that.

his head drop into the coach while his veiny hands rest on his face trying to hide the lewd faces he's making as he whines hips shuttering the harder you suck. your other hand start trailing to his balls squeezing them in your soft hands.

your boyfriend gasp as he feels his cock hitting the back of your throat he couldn't help the whiney pleading that left his mouth. and you couldn't hell the way your wet pussy was basically humping his leg.

you feel his rough hands gripping on you'd hair trying to pull you back. "baby-! nghhh- pull back i feel weird-". his eyes widen as he feels the sudden urge to piss everywhere at how sensitive his cock was.

but that only motivate you to suck his cock harder, squeezing your throat as tight as you were squeezing his balls. "stop-! ahhhhh mmmmm I'm going to piss- stop!". your boyfriend moan out the pleasure shooting up his abdomen before you feel a hot liquid gushing down your throat.

your eyes roll back moaning on his cock at the taste while your boyfriend lays down beneath you twitching after you sucked the life out of him.

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fushitoru · 17 days ago

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worth the wait a nerdjo fic

pairing ⸺ nerd/academic rival/rich boy!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ you abhor your academic rival, satoru gojo. he's a cocky asshole that you fight with constantly for the spot at first place. but when you finally discover what's underneath all those lame sweaters of his with a once in a blue moon visit at the gym (spoiler alert: he's not a scrawny nerd), you'll be fighting your severe attraction to the man who makes your life a bit harder. and maybe fall in love with him, too, in the process.

warnings ⸺ smut, f recieving oral, praise, he makes you beg for it lol, p i v sex, making out, angst if you squint, a lot of fluff, college AU, nerd!gojo, reader gets insecure sometimes and is treated horribly by her discord mod TA/research advisor, typical misogyny/sexism in STEM fields, but gojo defends her!!!, sleeper build gojo with a happy trail because im a slut, the good old pining and yearning i like. art by @/deltapork

a/n thank u to all my beta readers for editing part of this for me :3 happy valentines day!!!

general masterlist

You blink at your paper.

98.

You suppose you should be happy—it’s a graduate level physics class, anyways. For a moment, you stare at the red markings of the TA that graded it, as if willing an error in the one problem you made a mistake on could make it go away.

2+2=5.

You exhaled sharply, almost fighting back tears. You’d think you could avoid simple arithmetic mistakes, but apparently doing tensor products comes easier than simple addition to you. Shoving your backpack on your chair, you stuff in your laptop and the test haphazardly, not caring that it’s going to get messed and crumpled up in your backpack after your folders and binders jostle around. Fuck that test.

You wouldn’t normally act as if the test had personally wronged you—trust, you were not going to get that heated were it any class. But because of this one class, one person, you knew it was coming. The inevitable.

"Better luck next time." The voice, drenched in smug satisfaction, slithered through the air behind you, his voice and demeanor like a slimy, slimy snake.

Your jaw tightened, but you forced yourself to remain calm as you turned around. And there he was—Gojo Satoru, the bane of your existence, a plague upon your academic record, a walking, talking statistical anomaly who somehow managed to be both infuriatingly brilliant and aggressively insufferable.

He leaned against the desk beside yours, glasses sliding down just enough to reveal the glint of those ridiculously blue eyes. He crosses his arms while they’re covered in that ridiculous, ugly sweater he’s wearing—he’s probably going for the old money aesthetic, but he doesn’t need to know he gives off more “finance bro that helps billionaires evade taxes,” or whatever finance bros do.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you sniff, pretending to act nonchalant while you grab your backpack, swinging it roughly on your shoulder like it was the weight of your grievances against him.

"The test." Gojo unfolded a crisp sheet of paper with the kind of theatrical flourish reserved for revealing royal decrees. A perfect 100, circled in bold red ink.

Your stomach twisted. This is what those two points meant. Two stupid, meaningless, soul-crushing, rage-inducing points.

"Guess that makes it… what, five to three this semester?" He tapped his chin, pretending to count, as if the score wasn’t already seared into your brain like an irreversible branding. "My lead, obviously. But hey, if you ever need tutoring, I could always squeeze you in."

You bite the inside of your cheek in frustration. “I wouldn’t want to impose on the time for any of your hobbies. After all, when will you get the time to watch anime? My 5000 Year Old Girlfriend is Stuck in a Twelve Year Old’s Body, was it?”

He presses a hand to his chest in mock hurt, as if your words had truly pierced him through his chest. “Tut, tut. After all this time, I’d think you’d have my anime preferences memorized since you’re so obsessed with me. It’s Digimon, not whatever pedophilic shit you think I jerk off too.” He pauses, and then his voice drops into a conspiratorial whisper. “But you know Fred, the grad student TA that holds recitation every Wednesday? I just know he’s probably a Discord mod of a server that sends, like, daily tentacle porn. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s on the Megan's law registry either.”

Now, you have to hold back your smile because Gojo has a point. Fred is not just any TA. Fred is the grad student that mentors you on a research project; the program’s super selective, so when you realized you got him, you couldn’t just back out and give up the opportunity. However, Fred isn’t just a weird–-he’s sooo handsy with his greasy ass hands, so you accept any and all Fred slander. Because he’s your research advisor, you can’t wait to finish the project any faster. He probably would be into underage girls, but you don’t need to express your approval to Gojo, or worst of all, let him think he’s funny. God knows that would get into his head. “Yea, yea. Whatever. Anyways, I hope you have fun with your Pokemon—”

“Digimon.”

“—or whatever. I’m leaving. Some of us have things to do. Later, Gojo.”

You turned on your heel, lest Gojo hook you in with another taunt.

Maybe you needed to blow off some steam, if you’re allowing yourself to lose to Gojo.

Worst of all, it’s become a streak, like two times in a row—one on this quiz, and the other on the midterm a few weeks back. Your mind goes back to the last women in STEM recruiting event you had went to, and, how, in the middle of taking a bite of the delicious margherita pizza they offered, you registered that the woman in the panel had insisted that what helped her power through her PhD and dickwad supervisors was by exercising. Her fervor over pilates could almost qualify as a cult pitch, but it made you pause at the moment. Before you continued to further engorge yourself on the food offered on the charcuterie board.

But maybe it was time to hone your focus in, and some sweaty endorphins might help you get just that.

You’re not really surprised the demographic at your university’s gym looks like the way it does. After all, not only was it renowned for its academics (from all the nepo babies like Gojo whose families donated buildings and had like four generations of alumnus), but it was also a Division I school. So not only was the gym packed but it was packed with men.

As you walked in the hallway towards the room that contained weight machines, gym bag slung over your shoulder, you eyed the glistening backs of the (D1, mind you) men’s swim team through the glass that separated your path and the swimming pool.

Wow, those Speedos really hugged their asses. You imagined Gojo in one, and almost snorted. Rich boy nerd Satoru definitely didn’t learn how to swim; his family’s mansion probably had a twenty year old personal lifeguard that Gojo lost his virginity to, or something. Regardless, he would squint in his silly swim goggles, the exact antithesis of sex appeal while his glow-in-the-dark eyes lit up the pool while he stroked, cheeks puffed like a pufferfish.

Regardless, the smell of testosterone that hits you when you enter the weight area is almost nauseating, and, if you’re honest, a little intimidating. You’re not exactly the fittest of people, so you quickly speed walk past the grunting and sweaty men at the squat machines and barbells, avoiding eye contact and praying furiously that none of them perceive you.

When you reach the dumbbell stands, you hunch over, taking random light weights. Then, you pretend you know what you’re doing while jumping every so slightly whenever anyone comes in six foot distance of you. It’s only when another girl comes in to grab a weight (and when she bends over, you definitely ogle her ass in a way that would get you slapped if you were a man) that your gaze removes itself from where it was focused on the 2.5 lb dumbbell you were previously bicep curling with. To see him.

The glint of ivory hair is unmistakable—you’ve basically gotten off to the fantasy of razoring it off in his sleep. His blue eyes are bored, pretty boy face framed in glasses. Now, he’s giving teenage boy turned to Andrew Tate after a breakup. Black sweatshirt and sweatpants that are too small, because they cling to his legs in a form-defining way. He’s walking over, hands in his pockets, to a barbell station. Slaps some guys on the shoulder as he goes through, gets a lot of daps.

Which is weird to you, because you only the Gojo inside your physics class, not outside. He’s a fucking nerd—a loser that spends his time beefing with you, so why is he so popular when he gives you the time of day?

There are three dimensions to gaining alpha status, or whatever they call male popularity. You have to be 1) rich, 2) really physically fit, or 3) just really charismatic. Considering that Gojo—in all his clothing—-looks like a twink moreso than ripped gym bro, it’s definitely not dimension two. So you conclude that it’s because he’s rich and probably throws yacht parties so these ripped guys don’t push him into a locker, or something.

When he finally reaches his destination, you smirk to yourself. With that scrawny build underneath all those loose sweaters, you know he’s only going to be able to lift the bar, no plates. After all, he was warming up. insulting Gojo in countless of ways by taking jabs at his physique mentally, so you barely register that he’s grabbing for the hem of his sweatshirt, peeling it up—

To reveal his bare torso.

Your first thought: Wow, he has huge bazonkas.

That has easily got to be one of the most built physiques you’ve seen at your college so far. His pectorals basically pop out out of his torso as he moves to grab plates. First, he grabs a really big plate—you’re not a gym expert, so you wouldn’t know the weight—and stacks it. And stacks another. And another. And another, until you’re sure it’s definitely more than your bodyweight.

As you’re staring at him in awe, your 2.5 lb dumbbells hang limply by your sides, abandoning all pretense of training to openly gawk at the clench of his biceps, the sweat rolling down his temple, and the set of his jaw as he stares holes into the bar. And by the way there’s heat creeping up your cheeks you realize one thing:

You’re screwed.

“You know what?”

You keep your eyes on your notes firmly, refusing to look at Gojo sitting right next to you. You don’t know why he always chooses to sit next to you on recitation, really—it’s not like you’re receptive to his company. After all, he could be doing other things—like metaphorically sucking a TA’s dick by talking about their research, where Gojo probably knows more about the TA’s research than they do themselves.

From your periphery, you notice Gojo pouting, then scooting his chair (dragging it, so it makes a god awful screeching noise against the floor tiles that has you cringing) until he’s so close that he slings an arm on the back of your chair and leans in closer and closer. You’re fighting to keep your eyes on your notes, face heating up traitorously until you feel his breath fan across your neck because he’s just so close.

“Rude, ignoring me. Look where that got you.” He then points to a problem on your paper, one you were currently working on. “You’re doing that wrong.”

You finally turn to glare at him, but he’s closer than you anticipated, his face just inches from yours. His grin is all sharp edges and knowing amusement, and it makes your stomach flip in a way you refuse to acknowledge.

“I’m not doing it wrong,” you argue, despite the creeping suspicion that, okay, maybe you did mess up somewhere.

“Oh, really?” Gojo drawls, tilting his head slightly. “Then why is your integral off by a factor of two?”

Your eyes snap back to your notes, scanning through the equations—and, dammit, he’s right.

You huff, begrudgingly erasing the mistake. “Whatever.”

“You know, you should really be thanking me,” Gojo muses, still leaning way too close for comfort. “If I weren’t here, who knows how many mistakes you’d make?”

“She’d have me,” comes a greasy voice, and you have to fight the tears in your eyes that arise when Fred (the aforementioned pedophilic TA and your research advisor) comes, his moldy cheese stench following him as he takes a seat from across you and Gojo. You grudgingly turn your face away from where it was so close to Gojo’s to look at him and sigh inwardly. At least Gojo’s face was prettier to look at.

“Hi, Fred,” you smile tightly, willing him to go away. “We’re good here, so you can help out other students—”

“How was your weekend?” He instead replies, and you wince. Stealing a quick glance at Gojo, it seems that his jaw and posture are uncharacteristically tense.

“Lot of work for the class and for, uh, our research,” you respond, nodding and averting your gaze to your paper and feigning working on a problem so that he would get the hint.

Fred, unfortunately, does not get the hint. Instead, he leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes too focused on you. “You really ought to take breaks, you know. You can give me the code late. Someone as cute as you shouldn’t stress so much. You’ll get wrinkles.”

Your fingers tighten around your pencil, your skin crawling at the way his tone veers into something too familiar, too patronizing. You open your mouth to give a clipped response, but Gojo beats you to it.

“Oh? Didn’t know you were an expert on skincare, Fred,” Gojo drawls, his voice deceptively light. His arm, which was still resting on the back of your chair, shifts just slightly—not quite pulling you in, but making his presence more noticeable. “Though, if we’re giving out advice, maybe you should take your own. I mean, stress must be rough on you too, right? All those late nights grading papers, staring at screens. Takes a toll.”

Fred bristles, but Gojo just smiles lazily, pushing up his glasses as he tilts his head. “Actually, you know what? Maybe we should all focus on our own business. Like, say, teaching, instead of weirdly hovering over students. Crazy thought, huh?”

You swear you see the muscle in Fred’s jaw twitch, but he forces out an awkward chuckle, shifting uncomfortably. “Right, right. Just looking out for her.”

“Don’t worry,” Gojo interrupts smoothly, now fully leaning into your space, his arm draping a little lower behind your chair, “I think she’s got plenty of people looking out for her already.” His voice is soft, but there’s an undeniable edge beneath the words.

Fred lingers for a second too long, but finally, he mutters something about helping another student and stands, walking off with an air of forced nonchalance.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, slumping slightly in your seat. Gojo hums beside you, his fingers tapping idly against the back of your chair.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he teases, but there’s something in his tone that’s softer than usual. He then makes a show of stretching, raising his arms. His sweater rides up a bit, exposing his lower abs and peeks of white that has you averting your gaze, the heat creeping up at his proximity once again. Then, his arm back on your chair. Weirdly, you find that you don’t mind it.

You sigh, resigned. You’ll figure out these feelings later. “Yeah. Thanks, Gojo.”

But you don’t immediately go back to your work, because Gojo suddenly hunches down and whispers in your ear. “Yea, I definitely saw an underage anime girl sticker on his laptop.”

Your responding snort is so loud everyone turns to look at you and Gojo, who is now sporting a mischievous and satisfied smile.

It starts with a single drop, fat and cold where it splats against your wrist. You glance up from your phone just in time to see the sky split open.

“Shit,” you mutter, stuffing your phone into your bag. The library doors shut behind you with a heavy clang, sealing away the scent of old books and the quiet hum of studying students. Outside, the air is thick with the petrichor of freshly fallen rain, and within seconds, the pavement is slick, puddles forming in the uneven cracks of the sidewalk. The streetlights reflect off the wet ground, casting fragmented golden glows against the darkening sky. You’d been studying to grind for the upcoming assignments; after all, to rival Gojo is a no small feat. It’s just unfortunate it seems to take you thousand times more effort than it does for Gojo.

“Guess we’re stuck together, huh?”

You don’t have to turn to know who it is.

Satoru Gojo, standing beside you under the library’s narrow overhang, wearing that insufferable grin like he’s amused by the entire situation. Like the rain personally fell from the sky just to give him an opportunity to bother you.

“I’ll take my chances,” you say flatly, shifting your bag on your shoulder. But as you peer past the downpour, your stomach sinks. The rain is merciless, an unrelenting sheet of water stretching as far as you can see. There’s no way you’re making it back to your dorm without looking like you took a fully clothed shower.

Gojo hums, pulling something out of his bag. You blink when he flicks open a half-broken umbrella, the metal ribs slightly bent like it’s barely holding itself together. He gives it a little shake, sending droplets flying, before glancing at you with a smirk.

“Well?” He lifts a brow. “Wanna be smart about this?”

You do not want to be smart about this. You want to wait out the rain or make a break for it. But the storm shows no signs of letting up, and the thought of walking through it alone makes you hesitate.

Reluctantly, you sigh. “Fine. But I get most of the cover.”

“Hey, sharing is caring.” He tilts the umbrella slightly, just enough to make a point.

With great reluctance, you step closer. The moment you do, you regret it.

Gojo is warm. Even in the damp, chilled air, he radiates heat, standing so close that his sleeve brushes against yours. He smells good, too—like expensive laundry detergent with a faint undercurrent of something sweet, something distinctly him.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead as the two of you start walking. The rain pounds against the umbrella, droplets cascading off the edges, and with every step, you’re hyper-aware of the way Gojo moves beside you—loose-limbed, annoyingly graceful, a stark contrast to the crooked metal above your heads.

“Man, this thing’s on its last leg,” he muses, tilting the umbrella just slightly. Water dribbles off the side, landing directly onto your shoulder.

“Gojo!” you yelp, recoiling as the cold soaks through your shirt.

“Oops.” He does not sound remotely sorry.

You glare at him, but before you can snap back, he shrugs off his jacket and—without preamble—drapes it over you.

You freeze.

It’s warm, still carrying the heat of his body, and it smells so much like him—clean, sweet, dizzyingly familiar. Your brain short-circuits.

You force yourself to breathe, keeping your gaze firmly ahead. “You didn’t have to do that,” you say, voice tight.

“I wanted to.”

Something in his tone makes your stomach flip. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and—

Damn him. Damn him.

Water drips from his bangs, clinging to the sharp edges of his jawline, sliding down the curve of his throat. His shirt sticks to his skin, fabric clinging in a way that reveals the toned lines of his arms, the broad plane of his chest. He’s watching the rain, the usual teasing glint in his eyes softened into something contemplative.

You swear your eggs just recently got released, for you cannot help but avoid your ever going attraction to Satoru Gojo except the age-old excuse: ovulation. Your mind wanders to how his arms would feel around your head, to lay on his chest, how he’d be able to manhandle you, force you to take it—

But you’re snapped out of your inappropriate thoughts by what he says next.

“You know,” he says, voice quieter now, “I like this. Just us, no grades, no competing.”

You pause.

He says it so simply, so easily, like it’s nothing at all. But the words settle deep, curling somewhere warm inside you, and you don’t know what to do with them.

So you do what you do best: you shove them away, bury them beneath years of rivalry, of late-night study sessions fueled by caffeine and stubbornness, of sharp words and sharper glances.

You roll your eyes, forcing a scoff. “Don’t get used to it.”

But even as you say it, your fingers curl into the fabric of his jacket, holding it a little tighter.

It’s been a week since you saw Gojo. He had dropped you at your dorm in a surprisingly gentlemanly way, and you had insisted on returning the jacket only after washing it, to be courteous. What you didn’t mention was how you kept repeatedly smelling it in your dorm whenever you got a reprieve from your roommate’s eyes because Gojo smelled like expensive cologne and he did one thing most nerds / physics majors don’t do: shower. This fact, unfortunately, made you more attracted to him because the bar is truly in hell.

You’ve concluded that these…feelings can’t hurt you and that it isn’t real, like a beefy and shirtless Gojo-looking demon that’ll jump and surprise you from under your bed. So you move on your life, caught in the ever perpetual slog of studying and researching.

Thus, you find yourself at the library once more.

The night hums low around you, quiet except for the occasional shuffle of paper and the distant hum of the library’s espresso machine (only librarians could use it, however. you fervently thought that was a form of elitism, but you digress). You’re at the corner table, the one by the window, where the dim light pools just enough to illuminate your notes but not enough to make you feel like you’re being studied under a microscope. You think you’re alone—until you aren’t.

You don’t have to look up to know it’s him.

Satoru Gojo is hard to miss, even when he’s not trying. He slides into the chair across from you with the kind of ease that makes it seem like he belongs there, like he was always going to end up sitting across from you tonight. His hair is tousled, white strands falling forward in a way that makes him look softer under the warm light. His glasses are perched low on his nose, a rare sight given that he usually has them pushed up like some kind of pretentious scholar.

The two of you don’t speak.

It’s surprising, really. Gojo never runs out of things to say, whether it’s an obnoxious quip or some unnecessarily insightful observation that makes you want to throw your textbook at his face. But tonight, he just pulls out his own notes, taps his pen against the edge of his lips, and starts reading.

You should focus on your own studying, but something about this—this silence, this late-night haze, this tiny moment carved out of time—makes your mind wander. You steal glances when you think he won’t notice. His brows furrow when he’s concentrating, his jaw tightens when he’s stuck on something, and when he exhales, it’s this slow, measured thing, like he’s trying not to get frustrated. He’s just—

He’s just really there.

You’ve spent years defining Gojo as your rival. Your competition. The person standing in your way at every academic milestone. And yet, somehow, somewhere, he’s slipped into something else, something harder to define. Because you’ve seen him like this before—when he’s so focused that he forgets the world around him, when he bites his lip in thought, when he gets so caught up in something that he mutters under his breath without realizing it. And for the first time, it dawns on you: you don’t actually hate it.

You don’t hate this comfortable silence. This moment of peace, a white flag waving lazily between you both.

The hours blur. The café starts to empty. Your notes turn into background noise. It’s late, and the warmth from inside lulls you into something dangerously close to comfort.

A soft sound breaks through the quiet.

You glance up and freeze.

Gojo’s head has tilted to the side, his glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose. His hand is curled loosely around his pen, and his breathing has evened out. He’s asleep.

For a moment, you don’t move. You barely breathe.

Gojo, asleep, is not something you’ve seen before. He’s always in motion, always buzzing with energy, always running his mouth about something. But right now, he’s still. His long lashes cast faint shadows over his cheekbones, and the tension he always carries—the cocky bravado, the smirking sharpness—is nowhere to be found. He just looks… peaceful.

Cutie.

What?

The thought slips in so quickly, so effortlessly, that it nearly makes you jolt. But when you look at him again—head tilted just slightly, glasses slipping down his nose, breathing slow and even—you can’t deny that the word fits. He looks like a lazy cat napping in a sunbeam, limbs loose, utterly unguarded. It’s so unlike him that you find yourself staring, caught in the contrast.

Your fingers twitch. Before you can stop yourself, you reach forward, slow and hesitant, to push his glasses back up his nose. But you catch yourself just before you touch him, as if the warmth of his skin might burn. Your hand hovers in the air for a fraction of a second too long, and then—

You pull away.

Your heart is pounding. It’s fine. It’s nothing. You just need to get out of here.

You gather your things quietly, glancing back at him one last time before slipping out the door into the cool night air. The moment you step outside, you take a breath, deep and shaking. The world feels different now. You feel different now.

Because for the first time, it isn’t just that you find Gojo attractive.

It’s that you care.

And you don’t know what the hell to do about it.

The gym, once again, smells like sweat and overpriced protein powder.

You don’t know what’s possessed you to come here today. Maybe it’s because you keep telling yourself that you need to exercise more, or maybe it’s because you need to take a break from studying before your brain melts. But deep down, if you’re really being honest with yourself, you know the real reason.

Gojo is here.

You spotted him the first time by accident. You were on the treadmill, barely jogging at a pace that wouldn’t embarrass you, when you caught a flash of white hair across the gym floor. And there he was—dressed in a fitted black sleeveless top and joggers, casually loading plates onto a barbell.

And he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

It was a stupid, inconsequential detail, but it made all the difference. Without them, he didn’t look like the annoying academic rival who constantly got under your skin, flashing his smug grin as he beat you in exams by the smallest possible margins. He looked… sharp. Unfiltered. Effortlessly attractive in a way that made your stomach tighten in ways you didn’t like.

You’d seen him in his regular clothes before, of course. You knew he had broad shoulders and long legs, that his body wasn’t just a lanky frame hidden behind layers of sweaters. But here, in the gym, watching him roll his shoulders as he prepped for another set—it hit differently. He was lean but muscular, his arms flexing as he adjusted his grip on the bar, and for some godforsaken reason, you couldn’t look away.

You shouldn’t be watching him. You should be focusing on your own workout, pretending you don’t care. But the way his shirt clung to his back, the way his forearms tensed, the way he exhaled sharply as he lifted—

You’re so screwed.

You force yourself to look away, grabbing the smallest dumbbells available and curling them in what has to be the weakest excuse for a workout imaginable. You’re barely paying attention to what you’re doing, too busy sneaking glances at Gojo between sets. It’s pathetic, but at least no one else is watching you.

Or so you think.

Because then she appears.

A girl.

Tall, toned, and effortlessly gorgeous, with sleek hair pulled into a high ponytail. She strides over to Gojo with a confidence you could never dream of and smiles at him, saying something that makes him laugh. Her ass is definitely bigger than yours, and she’s in this coordinated, cute, pink set, looking like she walked straight out of a fitness TikTok. You can’t hear what they’re talking about over the sound of weights clanking and some obnoxious EDM song blasting through the speakers, but you can see it. The way she leans in, the way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the way Gojo—

—smiles at her. That easy, lazy grin he always wears when he’s teasing you, except this time, it isn’t for you.

Your grip tightens around the dumbbells, something ugly curling in your chest. It gets worse when she gestures toward the squat rack, and Gojo nods before moving behind her, hands hovering just slightly as she sets up for a squat. You watch as he spots her, one hand resting lightly on her lower back, close enough to correct her form but far enough to be polite. He’s focused, watching her movements carefully, murmuring something that makes her laugh before she drops into another rep.

Your stomach twists.

This is stupid. You have no reason to be feeling this way.

It’s then that it hits you—you can have your silly little academic rival moments with Gojo, but, in the end, you’re just a footnote in his story, a fleeting challenge in a life where everything already belongs to him. He quite literally has generational wealth; he’s not going to spend his life buried in grant applications or clawing for recognition in a field that demands twice the effort for half the reward. He’ll be the one funding the research, sitting at the head of the table, making decisions that shape the future. And you? You’ll be one of the many who struggle just to be in the same room.

He’s the guy who spends his vacations on yachts or private islands—not just surrounded by wealth, but by people who belong there. Girls who glide through life with the same effortless ease as him, girls who don’t second-guess if they deserve to be in the spaces they occupy. Girls who don’t have to fight for their place at the table because it was always set for them.

Girls that are his equal—equally attractive, equally smart, equally rich.

Not you.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to look away, but the image is burned into your mind. The easy way he talks to her. The way she tilts her head when she listens. The way he doesn’t even know you’re here.

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care.

But you do.

You grip the dumbbells tighter, exhaling sharply. Then you put them back, pick up your water bottle, and walk out of the gym before you do something stupid.

The office is too small. Too suffocating. Too filled with the weight of unspoken words and the sharp-edged smile of Fred, the TA, as he leans back in his chair and laces his fingers together.

"You know," he begins, voice sickly sweet, "I really expected more from you."

You sit stiffly in the chair across from him, your hands curled into fists in your lap, nails digging crescents into your skin. Your heart pounds, but your face remains carefully neutral. You've been called into his office under the guise of "academic guidance," but you know better. You always know better.

"I don't know what you mean," you say, keeping your voice even.

Fred exhales dramatically, shaking his head. "Come on. You and I both know you're barely keeping up in this project of ours."

You grit your teeth. You're not barely keeping up. You're giving him your work at the highest level, at its best. But Fred—Fred has always had a way of twisting things, making you feel small, insignificant, like your achievements are nothing more than accidents.

“I think my progress speaks for itself,” you respond tightly. Mind you, while he was supposed to be your mentor, you’ve done 80% of the work.

But you think Gojo’s defense of you ran deep into Fred’s heart because by the way he’s sleazily smirking at you, you know he’s trying to get back at you.

He smirks. "Your progress? Sure, you’re smart. But you think that’s enough? You think anyone’s going to care about a girl like you when there are people out there who don’t have to struggle to be exceptional?" He leans forward, voice dropping into something conspiratorial. "You’re wasting your time. The best you can hope for is being someone’s assistant. Maybe a glorified research grunt if you’re lucky. Just like for me."

Your stomach twists. You shouldn’t care. You know you shouldn’t care. But the words burrow deep, hitting a place inside you that already doubts, that already wonders if you’re nothing more than a temporary obstacle in a world built for people like Gojo Satoru—people born brilliant, born wealthy, born effortless.

Fred’s eyes flick over you, assessing, smug. "You’re working yourself to the bone for what? You’ll never be at the top. Not really."

The bitterness of the situation really dawns on you—Gojo’s the one who took a jab at Fred last week, not you. But you’re the one who’s left to deal with its consequences. You’re not going to assign blame and lament that it’s not Gojo in this office dealing with him. It was in your defense, after all.

But Fred’s words remind you. You’ll never be at the top. At Gojo’s level, who’s at the top without even seeming to put in effort.

You’ll never be his equal.

You stand abruptly, shoving your chair back so hard it scrapes against the floor. "If that’s all, I have work to do."

Fred chuckles, leaning back, clearly pleased with himself. "Sure, sure. Don’t say I never tried to give you advice."

You don’t respond. You just walk out, gripping your bag so tightly your knuckles turn white, the echo of his words following you down the hall, settling in your bones like lead.

The hallway is too bright. Too loud. Too full of people who don’t know that you’re on the verge of crumpling in on yourself like a dying star.

Your breath feels too shallow, too quick, and there’s a weight pressing down on your chest that no amount of rationalizing can shake off. It’s not even your meeting with Fred—just a slow accumulation of stress and exhaustion and frustration that’s settled deep in your bones. A grade lower than expected, an upcoming deadline you’re nowhere near prepared for, a general sense of drowning no matter how hard you try to keep up. It’s all too much, and your hands are starting to shake from how tightly you’re gripping the strap of your bag.

You just need to get out of here. You need air, space, something.

But, of course, the universe has a cruel sense of humor, because when you round the corner, you slam straight into Satoru Gojo.

“Whoa—”

Your balance is already precarious from the way you were rushing, and the impact sends you stumbling. For a split second, you think you might actually fall—your ankle twists awkwardly, the world tilts—and then there’s a strong hand gripping your wrist, another bracing against your back, steadying you before you can hit the ground.

You don’t process what happens immediately. Your mind is still stuck on too much, too fast, can’t breathe, and it takes you a second to realize that Gojo is holding you upright, his hands firm but careful, his expression hovering somewhere between amusement and concern.

“Jeez, what’s the rush?” he teases, but his voice lacks its usual careless lilt. He’s searching your face now, eyes narrowing behind his glasses, and that’s when you realize: you must look as bad as you feel.

Shit.

You jerk away from him, a little too fast, a little too sharp. “I’m fine.”

Gojo doesn’t look convinced. “You sure? Because it kinda seemed like you were about to pass out on the spot.”

“I said I’m fine.” You adjust your bag over your shoulder, shifting your weight onto your other foot, ignoring the faint throb in your ankle. “Go bother someone else.”

Most of the time, that’s enough to send him off with an exaggerated sigh and a smirk. But not today.

Today, Gojo just stands there, watching you like he’s trying to piece something together—like you’re a problem he wants to solve. He doesn’t press, not yet, but the silence stretches, and it’s unbearable, because you can feel the weight of his gaze, and you don’t want to be seen like this. Not by him.

So you give him a tight nod in dismissal, and walk away.

There’s a knock at your door. You frown because you didn’t expect any visitors, and you’re in your sleepwear. Regardless, you pad your way lazily and open the door.

To see Gojo.

What the fuck.

He’s drenched in the glow of the hallway light, looking entirely too at home despite standing on your threshold. His hair is still slightly damp from the rain, white strands falling over his forehead in careless disarray. He’s not wearing his glasses.

"Why are you here?" you demand, gripping the doorframe, willing your voice to stay steady.

He quirks an eyebrow, tilting his head just slightly. “You’re holding my jacket hostage.”

Oh. Right.

You make your way to your wardrobe, where the now-cleaned jacket hangs neatly on a hanger. Grabbing it, you hand it over to Gojo, who’s standing at your threshold while eyeing the insides of your dorm, as if trying to take in what your living space looks like. You shove it into his chest, stepping back like the heat of it burns. "Here."

Gojo takes it, but instead of leaving like a normal person, he lingers, running his fingers over the material like he’s checking for something. Then,, he lifts a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it in that way that only makes his biceps flex, his lean muscles shifting beneath his shirt. You hate that you notice.

A beat passes.

"You know," he muses, far too casually, "you seemed a little disheveled back there."

Your stomach twists. "It's not a big deal—"

"—Bullshit." His voice cuts through yours, sharp and immediate. He shifts, stepping just the tiniest bit closer, his tone losing its usual teasing lilt. “You’re lying. I saw what you looked like. What happened?”

“It's none of your business,” you say, stiffening. “Nor is it a big deal, really.”

Gojo exhales, something heavy in the sound. His eyes don’t leave yours, and for once, they aren’t filled with their usual mirth or mischief. Just something searching, something that makes your chest ache in a way you don’t have the strength to deal with right now.

"You always do that," he says, softer now, but no less intense. “Act like no one’s supposed to care. Like you’re carrying the world alone.”

Your fingers curl into your palms. Your lips press together. You don’t want to hear this. You don’t want to acknowledge the way his words settle too close to the truth.

And then, quietly, Gojo asks, “Do you not consider me your equal?”

You swallow.

Your silence must be enough of an answer because something shifts in his expression. It isn’t anger exactly, but it’s something close—something bitter and disappointed and aching all at once.

"You’re the one who shuts me out, you know." His voice is sharp now, edged with frustration. "You act like I'm the one keeping you at a distance, but every time I try to get close, you push me away."

Your throat tightens. “Why do you even care?”

Gojo lets out a breath, his head tilting just slightly, eyes scanning your face like you’re something he’s trying to figure out. Then he laughs, quiet and humorless.

“You really don’t know?”

“I—” Your voice wavers. “What do you mean—”

“For a girl so smart, you sure do act stupid.” He steps forward then, closing the space between you just enough to make you want to back away, but your feet don’t move. His voice drops lower. "Do you think I talk to you because I give a fuck about physics?"

Your brain short-circuits. “What—”

He groans, dragging a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I give zero fucks about the class or any class, trust me. I have better things to do than to try to aim for 100s on every test."

Your heart is pounding now, too loud, too fast. “Then why—”

"God," he exhales, tipping his head back, like he's debating whether or not he should even say it. Then, after a beat, he looks at you again, and whatever is in his eyes makes your stomach flip, makes your breath hitch.

Something in your chest lurches, but before you can even process it, he huffs a laugh—like he’s just remembered something ridiculous.

"You didn’t even look my way the first week," he says, eyes flicking over your face, searching. "I could tell you only cared about anyone that could challenge you. Like, it wasn’t even until I did better than you on the second midterm that you even talked to me."

You open your mouth, then close it, heat prickling at the back of your neck. Because—yeah. He’s not wrong. You had ignored him, dismissed him as just another overconfident rich kid who thought he was smarter than he was. It wasn’t until he proved himself, until he became a real obstacle in your path, that you bothered to acknowledge him.

Gojo smiles, but it’s not cocky this time—it’s small, almost rueful. "And then you looked at me like I was finally real. Like I existed."

Your breath hitches.

He shrugs, eyes dropping for a brief second before snapping back up to yours. "So, yeah. Maybe I started trying harder. Maybe I cared about all those stupid tests because it meant I got to see that fire in your eyes, that I got to be the one you were pushing against." He rubs the back of his neck, his biceps flexing in a way that would usually annoy you, but right now, you’re too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

Gojo stares at you for a long moment, gaze unwavering, like he’s daring you to say something—anything.

Your chest feels too tight, your pulse erratic, and you don’t know what to do with the way Gojo is looking at you—like you’re something precious, something worth holding onto.

But he’s wrong. He has to be wrong.

“You can’t like me,” you whisper.

Gojo frowns, expression shifting. “What?”

Your throat clenches, and before you can stop it, heat pricks at your eyes, blurring your vision. “You can’t like me,” you say again, voice cracking. “I can’t even match you.”

Gojo's face slackens, his teasing demeanor completely gone.

"You do everything so effortlessly," you force out, your fists clenching at your sides. "It’s so infuriating." A shaky breath escapes you, and you shake your head, looking down. “So why would you even want this? You make me feel this way, and I—I hate you for it.”

For a second, there’s only silence.

Then, Gojo exhales softly.

“Is that what you think?” His voice is so gentle it makes something inside you ache.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Gojo shifts, stepping forward slowly, carefully, like you’re something fragile. And then—then he reaches out, his fingers ghosting along your wrist before curling around it, grounding you. “It’s not effortless,” he murmurs. “I try so hard. You just don’t see it because I don’t want you to.”

"You really don’t get it, do you?" His voice is quieter now, something dangerously close to vulnerable. His fingers twitch at his sides. "I care because it’s you."

You shake your head, still not understanding, still unable to believe it.

Gojo watches you for a moment, then exhales, running a hand through his hair. “You act like I just woke up one day and decided to like you.” He huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s no real amusement in it. “Do you know how long I’ve been stuck on you? How infuriating it was, realizing that no matter how much attention I got, the only person I wanted it from was too busy treating me like an obstacle?”

Your breath catches.

“I tried everything,” he continues, voice rougher now. “Teasing you, annoying you, beating you in tests, losing to you in tests. It didn’t matter what I did, because you—” He breaks off, shaking his head. “You only saw me when I gave you a reason to compete.”

Your fingers tremble slightly at your sides. You don’t know what to say, don’t even know what you can say.

And suddenly, everything—the teasing, the constant pestering, the way he always had to be around you—it all clicks into place.

Your heart hammers in your chest, and before you can second-guess it, before you can even think, you surge forward and kiss him.

It’s a mess of a kiss—too rushed, too desperate, all clashing teeth and uneven breaths—but Gojo groans softly against your lips, like he’s been waiting for this. His hands are on you immediately, one slipping around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head as he presses you flush against him.

You’re dizzy. Overwhelmed. But it’s good. It’s him, and you don’t want to stop.

When you finally pull away, breathless and unsteady, Gojo is grinning, his lips slightly swollen.

“Worth the wait,” he murmurs, eyes shining.

You avert your gaze, fully blushing now. “But I—” You take a look at him, then hide your face in your hands. “I’m a stalker.”

“Maybe I’m into that.”

“No,” you bemoan. “I’ve stalked you at the gym, and I—” Your voice drops into a shameful whisper. “You were good. Like, stupidly good. Like, making everyone stare at you good.”

His lips twitch. “You were staring too, huh?”

You glare at him, but he just grins, all teeth, clearly eating this up.

“I hated it,” you insist, heat prickling at the back of your neck. “I hated that you’re already smarter than me, that you already have all these advantages, and then—and then you also have that? Like, it’s just unfair. You’re unfair.”

Gojo is silent for a second, and you think you’ve screwed up, but then exhales a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “You are so cute.”

“Stop it!” you whine, but you don’t protest when he pulls you closer and locks your lips with his another time. You clutch the front of his shirt, drag your hands on his chest, his arms, everywhere. Then, you guide his to firmly clutch your ass, to which he freezes.

“We can stop here. We don’t have to do anymore than this, and—”

But you interrupt him, slamming your lips against his once more. Grabbing him by the shoulder you pull him into your room and slam the door behind you, pushing him against the door. “Fuck no.”

He laughs breathlessly, then continues to switch your position, now you against the door. “Thank god. Now, jump.”

You do, and you almost moan at how easily he grabs you in his arms, your legs straddling him. It’s like you weigh nothing to him as he carries you over to your bed and manhandles you into it, following not long after.

When he gets on top of you, he maintains eye contact as he pulls your shirt over your head, trailing kisses down to your neck, the valley of your breasts (but not before giving each of the girls their own tender kiss), and your stomach. With his eyes boring into you, he slowly, teasingly drags the pants you were wearing down your legs until you’re just in your panties.

You let out a noise, and he coos. “I know, I know, baby.” He gives you a gentle kiss on the top of your mound, and you clench, squirming from the contact. “Let me take my time, though.”

He gently, but firmly, lays a hand on your hip as he starts licking the crotch of your panties. It’s truly maddening—the sensation is there, but you oh so wish his skilled tongue was meeting your skin, bare and electric.

He’s taking his time laving, ravishing your taste, but you’ve had enough. “Gojo, please,” you sob, throwing your head back and grinding further into his tongue, which he welcomes. “Stop teasing.”

“Mmmm,” he pretends to think, all while focused and looking only at your crotch, now rubbing your clit in small, miniscule circles. “I can, but,” and now he’s just mocking you, with the way he adopts a babying tone, “I think you’re going to have to beg for it.”

You groan in frustration as a response, but he only clicks his tongue as his fingers reach and finally rid you of your panties. He spreads your folds with two fingers, his face oh so close to your bare pussy. But instead of finally giving you what you want, he clicks his tongue, pouting as if you’re the one forcing him to be a bastard. “Yea, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to earn it.”

Before you can respond, he holds out his tongue and inches his face even closer to your bare folds until you can feel his warm breath over it. “You just have to say please.” Then, he ahhh-s, as if holding his tongue out to a doctor and says, “Look I’m so close—ahhh.”

You can only plead with him. “Please, Gojo.”

“No, it’s Satoru to you now, baby.”

“Satoru, please eat me out.”

He smiles. “Yeaa, that’s my girl.” And proceeds to eat you out in a way that has your toes curling.

He acts like a man eating his last meal on death row. It’s the masterful combination of laving over your folds, kissing your clit, and groaning and making noises that has you inching closer and closer to your orgasm. When you tell him, you’re close, he does exactly what he’s supposed to do—keep doing what he’s doing, same spot, same tempo, same pressure.

With a cry of his name, you come quickly, and he takes your writhing hips and their motion like a champ, easing you through it. When you feel the all-too-familiar feel of over sensitivity, you grab his hair and pull him towards your face, kissing him tenderly.

He maneuvers his huge frame to lay down next to you, and you fall easily into a gentle embrace. It’s a comfortable silence, as he burrows his face into your chest and you stroke his hair gently.

Gentler than how you’ve ever treated him.

It’s this thought exactly that you voice to him. “You know,” you muse softly. “I was such a bitch to you.” This gets his attention, because he moves from where he was comfortable (your boobs) to look at you in alarm. “Like, I was always mean, and like acting all high and mighty—”

“Whatever you think you did, it was hot,” he interrupts you, grinning boyishly. “Like damn when you insult me I get all fired up—”

“Satoru!” You laugh, shocked, looking down at him. “You’re crazy.”

“Yea,” he winks. “Crazy for you.”

You smile softly at that, biting your lip. “I mean, I get that.” You feel his curious gaze rove over you and heat creeps up your neck as you confess, “Like I was stalking you at the gym. I saw you one time, and um. You definitely have a sleeper build.”

He hums. “I get that a lot.”

“Yea,” you blurt. “you’re really hot. Like you have really big arms, which I definitely didn’t notice in all those sweaters you wear. You could definitely throw me around.”

Silence.

When you look down at him, he’s looking at you mischievously. He sits up, takes off his shirt, and says, “Want to test that theory?”

The both of you test the theory, indeed—it’s a nice nod to your guys’ academic, theoretical physics roots. But instead of some theory involving dark matter or quantum physics debated while in class, this theory takes all night to prove.

general masterlist

a/n special thank you to @purplegemadventures ily pookie <3 we were discussing how a lot of fics so far have made seem nerd gojo really cute and shy but we tried to envision a shit eating sassy diva just like hidden inventory arc <3 like what that one anon said i need my gojo to be a little annoying cocky (but cute) bastard (or, i quote, "your gojo makes me want to oil his scalp and give him an aggressive head massage and mess his hair up"). ANYWAYS props to that one anon that dropped the "nerd gojo with sleeper build" and my beloved @tiramisuandlove i love you forever

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots!

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frid4y · 2 months ago

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"just one feel, please! I won't ask again, I promise!"

that was the agitating sound of satoru's desperate plea to feel your tits. crazy, I know! yet his persistence is admirable. but you would never give in! even if he has been asking for days.

but satoru doesn't see it that way. he thinks he weighing you down, he knows it. just a some more convincing and begging, and his pretty little roommate will give in! and there's no way you couldn't want him to, especially with how your casually wearing no bra in front of his prying eyes.

"satoru, for the millionth time. no! there are so many girls on campus who would let you squeeze their boobs. i'm not one of them, give up!" for some reason, your annoyance only pushes him to try harder.

"it's for good luck! i have an exam today, i swear i'll never ask again!" satoru shines his big blue eyes at you and pouts, plopping down right next to you on the large couch. he pokes your arm impatiently, his gaze occasionally averting to the slight bounce of your chest. fuck, he's determined.

but you stay strong, your no's firm. until your sick of hearing "please" over and over again. especially coming from satoru's whiny little voice. "holy shit, fine satoru! if it'll get you to shut the fuck up. fine." you reluctantly give in. anything to get him to be quiet, right?

his eyes light up, his hands moving faster than his mind. suddenly, your laid on your back on the couch, satoru's large figure huddled over you. he immediately pushes up your tank top, his brain short circuiting as he stares at your tits. the first instinct running through him is to take your nipples in his mouth, suck on them until they're swollen. but he doesn't think that's on the agenda today, so he'll wait until his next opportunity.

satoru's large hand reaches out and brushes his thumb over the bud making you gasp softly. he wants more, he needs to hear that again. his other hand reaches out and pinches your nipple, before both of his hands squeeze each of your boobs, kneading and squeezing the flesh.

satoru watches how your lips part in pleasure, your head tilted back slightly. a surge of desire fuels him and he feels his cock stiffen in his pants, along with the growing urge to run his tongue along his—your perfect tits. "o-okay, that's it satoru. you said one feel!" you whine, trying to peel his hands away with all your strength, but he doesn't wanna let go.

"wait! hold on, just a little bit longer! they're just so pretty—can i just suck 'em!" he pleads again, almost drooling at the thought. you groan, such a fucking perv. yet, even if you wanted to deny that his touch felt off, it didn't, if anything, you enjoyed it.

"let go and I'll think about it." and that was all you needed to say to get satoru back on his best behavior and he'll be waiting for his next chance, even if it means begging again.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk smut #anime x reader #anime x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x black reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x you #frid4ywrit3s

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baobei-bu · 4 months ago

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Clan head!Gojo

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #jjk fanart #english is not my first language if anything sounds weird im sorry pls pretend it makes sense #gojo satoru smut

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exquisink · 4 months ago

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Imagine hating on me but i spend my free time maladaptive daydreaming about getting raw dogged by fictional men

#suguru geto #satoru gojo #nanami kento #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk smut #thotbubbles

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screampied · 1 month ago

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#RAW! NEXT QUESTION?

☆ sum. ain’t nothin’ like ditching the condom for the very first time! get in loser, he’s going shopping raw. sukuna, toji, ijichi, nanami, gojo, geto, choso.

warnings. fem! reader, protected -> unprotected, raw, cult leader! geto, switch choso, condom breaks, ęxhibitionism (geto), overstim, bulges, big dicks yum, slight mommy kink, spanks, whiny feral men, dirty talk, dumbification, sqúirting, brief cunnīlingus, bręeding, slutting them out, praise.

✩ ˛˚ . IJICHI KIYOTAKA.

“o- oh, ohhh,” ijichi stammers, pushing back the fogged lens of his glasses. as a hand awkwardly grips onto your waist tightly, ijichi takes a second to swallow down a long, anxious gulp. the minute he snatched his condom off - he was just so needy. the lower part of his lip quivers as his eyes zero down at your body.

and fuuck, your pussy’s just leaking, continuously dripping as it hovers over his sanguine-colored tip. he’s letting off subtle sharp grunts as you give your impatient hips a tiny taunting wriggle. “mngh- you want me to go in-” and he pauses, dramatically gulping again. “… raw?”

“mhm, ‘jichi baby,” you’d bite back a moan, feeling his curious hands grab toward your jouncing breasts. this always happened, ijichi was supposed to be doing paperwork. he’s had so many supplementary tasks and duties that had a strict deadline, and yet here he was - doing you instead of doing his paperwork. not that he complained at all though. widened, almond-shaped eyes watched as you brought two fingers towards your sopping pussy, spreading it apart just above his tip. “inside,” and teasingly, you took off his glasses, putting them over your own eyes. “can you do that for me?”

“hah- yes mommy- ahem- my love, i mean.”

“did you jus’ call me mommy?” you chaff, bringing a kiss toward the hooked bridge of his nose. with his glasses now off - you saw a good glimpse of ijichi’s face and he’s never felt more flustered. he didn’t mind whenever you took control, although - whenever you did, he had a bit of a habit of quickly submitting.

“did i?” he coyly cheeses, a tear of sweat racing down the side of his thin brow. ijichi moans, bringing his tip towards the outer part of your cunt. sloppily, he smudges his drooling wet cockhead against your heat before gulping for the third time. “can.. can you blame me though? you’re so wet that it’s makin’ me.. heh- slip over my wor- oh my-” ijichi shakily breathes, feeling your hand wrap around his thick cock.

a thumb of yours softly scrapes down the loose skin before colliding against a single, prodding vein. excitedly, it pulses at your touch - and you hummed, aligning the swollen head against your pussy. “mgh- so.. so big, ijichi,” you’d gasp out, still wearing his glasses. he stares at you, his dick twitching at the sight - how cute you looked while wearing them and how his glasses were so close to slipping off the bridge of your nose.

“fuck- ‘s okay, jus’ keep goin’ inside me,” and he mutely gasps, ogling as your hands cup underneath both of your bare tits. “can you.. hah- do that for me?”

“mhm,” he moans, his head already lowering to bury between your chest. if there was anything ijichi loved, it was your pretty perked breasts bouncing in front of his face. he loved to run the tip of his sticky tongue ‘round your sensitive nipples, slurp after slurp popping away from his thin-lined lips.

unhurriedly, his cock’s still making its way inside you, and he grumbles, feeling your hands ruffling through his slickly parted hair. “so mngh- perfect, my dove-”

with a single hand - you’re bringing him closer toward your chest, biting your lip as you’re trying to adjust to the incoming thiiiick stretch. without the condom like usual—it feels a lot more wet, a lot more… raw.

your pristine slickness was taking ijichi by surprise—and he inhales hoarsely, feeling your cunt splash its wetness all over his base. after just a few inches inside of you, ijichi already knew he wasn’t gonna last. he’s a big guy - and his dick stretched you out in all the right ways despite how he wasn’t even fully bottomed out yet. it felt like he was though, and you’re already impatient, craving clamping around all girthy nth-inches.

“f- fuck-” you’d mewl out weakly, still feeling the flicks of his hot tongue swirl around the center of your tender nipples. his lashes were closed—and he was letting off muffled moans once he felt the clamoring loud slam of your ass plop onto his lap. a single bounce and he’s spasming underneath you. you whimpered, hurling your arms around him before feeling his tip gingerly slap its way against your beating g-spot.

a hidden coil trapped deeply within your stomach tightens—and you’re letting off sweet, needy ‘ooh’ ‘s and ‘ah’ ‘s continuously. as ijichi’s rosy lips were puckered, he’s still merrily taking turns at sucking each of your pretty breasts while looking up at you. “ ‘jichi, baby- fuckk, i- i feel something comin'- don’t stoppp-”

“haah- ‘course, m’love,” he resumes to wetly swirl his tongue over both sensitive nipples. so sweet. he’s roughly sucking against each, releasing wet popping sounds from his lips before a free hand squeezes your ass. ijichi’s bottomed out now, and his heart’s damn near beating out of his chest.

he got off to your pleasure, and every few seconds—darkened, dilated irises would glance back up toward you.

ijichi’s been inside you tons of times, but never raw. and he’s had his inexperienced moments for sure—but to say he was a quick learner was surely an understatement. as his lips were securely cupped around each one of your tits, he brings a hand toward the crack of your thighs. you’re practically cockwarming him, and you start to feel a familiar elated feeling brewing ‘n brewing up inside of you.

it didn’t take long before your thighs fiercely shook, and you’re whimpering at the stimulation of him tending to your breasts and now smearing a thumb around your twitching, sensitive clit. “ijichi- oh!” you’d squeal out suddenly, shuddering over his lap once you finally burst.

all it took was for his thumb to toy with your cunt and his fatly-shaped tip to prod against your beloved g-spot one more time for you to break. what comes abruptly was how you ended up gushing literally - squirting a dewy geyser all down between your legs, soaking his cock from the inside. your face blissfully falls in pleasure, and you’re letting off the prettiest orgasm as you hear ijichi mumble a faint, cheeky ‘oh wow’ against your ear.

“ngh!” your body slumps into his chest, feeling every muscle that made up your thighs grow numb. your pussy’s just soaking him - and you’re whining the entire time, feeling his lips pop away from your lustrous tits. ijichi’s matching the rushed pants of your breathing as he wraps an arm around you, feeling your body shiver. “f- fuck, fuck- fuuuck-”

as his hefty dick’s still inside of you—ijichi’s chest deflates in ‘n out, and he’s clenching his jaw at the imagery of actually cumming inside of you. he wasn’t too worried about his finish though because he’s bringing a kiss toward the crown of your head as beads of sweat tore down all sides of his forehead.

“hah- did i … do that, m’love?” he breathlessly asks, guiding a hand between your legs that had a literal waterfall pouring down your sticky inner thighs. you’re entirely out of breath, and as you cutely tried to put his fogged glasses back on his face, ijichi hummed.

“y- yeah-” you whined, still feeling the pangs of pleasure surge through every part of your body. ijichi’s throbbing tip pulses against your clit causes you to let off another candied whimper.

panting heavily, ijichi brings a hand toward your chin before gripping it. “o… ohh,” and he sneaks a single wet kiss against your lips. you moaned at his minty taste before feeling him gingerly lift you from his cock, bending you over his unkempt, messy desk. your chest lands over his scattered piles of papers—and ijichi stands up, swatting a hand against the bare cheek of your ass.

the harsh slap! brings you straight back to reality, and you gasped. “mmgh-” ijichi re-positions his crooked glasses one more time, feeling his dick twitch at the pretty sight of you happily arching for him over his desk.

with a low, needy gruff — ijichi’s cockhead sliiides a zigzag line down the front of your pussy before feeling you trying to squeeze against nothing but air. “hah-” he inhales sharply, and you gasped before feeling his hand gently snake around your neck. bringing two lengthy fingers towards your sopping cunt, ijichi’s voice slightly pitched before he gives your folds a teasing spank.

��let’s.. do that again, my love. wanna.. haah- see how much wetter you can get,” and he clears his throat, placing a trail of wet kisses down your spine.

“heh- for you know- research purposes.”

✩ ˛˚ . SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“don’t say such foolish things when you’re already this soaked,” sukuna prowled, swatting the flat part of his palm against your cunt.

you whimpered at the instant impact, seeing your tummy heave in and out through your peripherals as you lay on your back. on sukuna’s king-sized bed, he had you in the middle with your legs widely spread like an eagle’s wings. “tch. nasty little girl, never thinkin’ with your brain-”

he continued gruffly, his balmy-red tip maneuvering a few translucently wet shapes around the entrance of your heat. you’re so slick, and he hisses at the unkempt warmth that occurs on his crownhead before spanking your throbbing nub thrice. “always thinkin’ with your pussy, ‘n now you want me to go in raw, hm?”

“kuna.. pleaaaase-”

each ricocheting slap he creates against your slick-running folds has you biting your lip. “fine,” he grumbles, the head of his rounded plump shaft turning an angry beat red. the plastic material of the condom that’s snugly fit ‘round his cock gets pulled off by his hand. you’re moaning - mewling, feeling the parched rawness of his dick smearing down your puffed entrance. instantly, your thighs become shakier than ever, and you’re biting back an incoming moan once he’s easing his way inside.

“god- so fuckin’ warm inside, hah-” sukuna rumbles through whetted bared fangs, a few of his sharp nails piercing into the torrid, warm flesh of your skin. you’re just lying flat on your back the entire time, whimpering as his cursed cock’s just soppingly sinking itself through your tightening walls. his tip alone was big, and you’re letting off drafty gasps of air because of the sultry-hot feeling. “mngh- that’s it, girl. clench around me, use that wet pussy to suck me i- in, fuuuck-”

sukuna gets rudely cut off from the slimy loud plaps of your folds slickly suffocating every thick inch. he’s for once speechless - and you could hear his rasped breaths quicken the longer he spends inside rummaging through your walls. sukuna’s capped tip was thoroughly stuffed inside of your cunt before he’s feeling that familiar pulse arise. “ugh- so fuckin’ wet- pussy’s more.. hah- evil than i thought,” he groans, the lower half of his slim torso stiffening.

“mgnh- fuck, ‘kuna,” you’d wheeze out, feeling his weighty cock reach deep deep deep. he’s not even moving his hips and yet it feels like he’s just plowing straight into you. sukuna’s huge, and the crown of his shaft alone was enough to cause your poor legs to tremble. within seconds—your breaths became more and more shallow as your mind’s just being turned into pure gooey mush. “that’s it, baby, press down on my tummy hngh-”

“don’t tell me what ‘ta do,” he grumps, but his palm lands on top of your stomach anyway. there, he feels the faint protruding bulge rub against the center of his hand and he grunts. riotously, sukuna’s hips were just shaking, and he felt like if he’d give you just one more thrust - oh, he’d cum.

it’s a looot different than having the rubber on. he feels how hot you were, how ridiculously sopping wet you were - how fuckin’ raw you felt from the very inside. it makes him nip at the bottom of his lip with his fang, cherry eyes leisurely rolling back in feral awe. “ ‘m gonna cum, not gonna laaaast- ugh.”

sukuna’s head tosses itself back and he lets off a loud growling prowl, the slick warmth of your pussy making him nearly slip out of you. with a slippery, wet grip that you had—sukuna wasn’t sure if he was gonna last long.

“mmh- running away already, sukuna?” your moan, a bratty giggle flying past your glossed-puckered lips once his cerise gaze falls upon you. sukuna’s intently glaring, but his expression quickly shifts once his fat tip strikes a single, sloppy hit against your g-spot not once, not twice but thrice.

third time’s the charm, and he’s just ceaselessly slamming the huge, bulky crown of his cockhead against that same tender spot. doing so causes you both to let off the sweetest, lewdest moans in utter unison.“f- fuuuck,” you’d hum, bringing your hands to fondle your bouncing tits.

you continued to lie underneath him, staring at the demon on top of you that was sweating bullets. his pace was simply relentless, and he’s grunting at each slapping pound he creates effortlessly with his keen hips.

“ugh- ‘m cumming, ‘m fuckin’ cummin” sukuna growled, his heavy body clumsily flopping onto yours. coincidentally enough, you ended up finishing too, and your sweetened, high-pitch moans were just music to his ears. “fuck, fuck, f- fuck-”

sukuna grumbles muffled swears into your neck as he slowly but surely pops a hot, velvety knot inside of your cunt. your legs wrapped around his waist, and you’re whimpering as his hips sync against your own. “hngh- sukunaaa,” and the way you squealed his name off your tongue had his cock twitching for more. your thighs quavered with pure anticipation, and you felt your chest steadily heave in and out against sukuna’s sweaty pecs that lay against you. “s- so fuuullll-” you’d let off a prolonged whine, tilting your head once his fangs cutely nip against your skin.

your high felt just as brutal - and as a crashing wave of endorphins released all down your body, he could feel you spasming underneath him. your cunt was even more clingy than you were, its tight gripping hug making him snarl a faint whimper into your neck.

“ugh- you ‘n this… f- fuckin’ cursed pussy,” sukuna shakily murmured, still buried balls deep. he’s been finished filling you up, and you could feel him sniffing down your neck. sukuna’s body violently shakes with yours, and he’s hissing off swears before feeling a few pasty-white droplets of cum dribble down your thighs. “mngh- can’t feel my legs, ugh-”

“you know, for the king of curses, you sure do whine a lot-”

“s.. shut the fuck up and … hold me.”

✩ ˛˚ . SATORU GOJO.

with satoru — he’s a freak.

his favorite thing to do was to finish inside of you raw before lapping it right up. satoru’s bright, sparkly lashes flutter at every pausing jiffy as you’re hovering over his face with those pretty wet legs of yours spread open . . fuckin’ . . wide.

such … a … sight.

“mgh- c’mere you..” he pouts, snaking a hand around your waist before lolling out the flat of his tongue.

it’s a hot pink - colored and almost a vibrant shade of strawberry before it flicks a slippery stripe down your puffed slit. you’re so full - he’s filled you with clods ‘n clods of bubbly ropes so much that a bit of frothy residue started to stream down the middle part of your pussy. it’s such a filthy view, and he moans at the bittersweet taste of himself dripping onto his buds alone.

“f- fuck, ‘toru-” you’d whimper, your quavering knees positioned against each side of his head. with your legs sprawled into the letter ‘v’ — you’re slowly starting to rock against his chin. “mhm- lick me clean, baby. good boy.”

“don’t .. fwah- call me that.” satoru slurps, white brows cutely tugging into a stubborn furrow. stubborn even with his mouth full.

gnawing the inside of your gummed cheek like it was bubble gum, you let off a faint, quivering whine once you feel his teeth playfully nibble towards your cute ‘lil twitching clit. “hah- i’ll call you whatever i want since you’re underneath me pretty boy.” you tease, reaching a hand in his hair. tousled, snowy tresses tangled between your fingers as you kept riding his face, seeing that permanent pouty glower on satoru’s sheeny lips.

“pft,” he scoffs, iced pupils rolling straight to the back of his cranium before he spits on your cunt. he’s making you even messier—letting you, dampen his chin with a mixture of your treacly essence and his coarse, creamy mess.

the way satoru’s dewy cum dribbled between your thighs had him grunt against your folds, and he’s even creeping a hand toward his throbbing cock to calm himself. you hovered over his face alone had him turned on.

“fuuuck, keep ridin’ my face like that then, yeah,” satoru huffs breathlessly, a sweaty open palm starting to give his shaft a few solid pumps. from the tannish-pink sides, his dick’s just tearing away with pathetic tears of cum. he’s smokily groaning repeatedly once he’s touching himself at the taste of you - the mere thought of you, and it only makes his tongue flick against your pussy faster..

you’re whimpering as your poor thighs continued to quiver, and the grip on satoru’s ruffled hair never loosened. in fact, it tightens—and you’re grinding your hips against his face at a much more sloppy speed. “hng- such a nasty girl with a.. hah- even nastier pussy,” satoru murmurs faintly against your weeping slit, your constant moving making his words sound muffled. he’s trying to keep up his haughty persona but it fails immediately the second he feels himself preparing to cum … again.

you knew it too - because satoru whimpers, watching doe-eyed as you suddenly got up, plopping your dripping cunt right back down against the pearly tip of his cock. “ ‘toru baby, ngh- you should finish inside,” and he’s just so impatient. the swollen head of satoru’s shaft was a claret red and it turned even redder the more you aligned his tip against the opening of your slobbering folds. in response—your pussy spits out cute, wet pop sounds at the unstable movements of you trying to tease him even further. “mngh- fill me up again.”

“w- when you ask like that, ‘m gonna wanna propose to you next,” he pouts, the entire lower half of his body growing limp. he’s so tender - so hot, and it was like your pussy had him on a leash. satoru groans, wrapping a shaky hand around his lanky cock before swallowing thickly. “fuck, f- fuck, better… hah- take every drop then, princess. take it all like a good- ngh!”

before satoru could even attempt to finish his sentence—he’s cut off by the wet, sticky sounds that are currently occurring between your legs. glancing down with blurred, merely crossed peripherals, he’s slowly leaking from his strawberry-colored frenulum.

satoru’s blushing cockhead unhurriedly disappears its way between the slick of your flaps as he cums - hard.

thin, streaky ropes hotly ooze inside of you as you hover over his shuddering body, hearing his breathing patterns rapidly pick up. “god- aren’t you just a pretty th- fuck!”

satoru gets interrupted once you started to bounce your hips—damn near giving him a heart attack as he’s still cumming deep inside you. it’s runny, gluey ribbons that flood inside of you to where your cute thighs couldn’t help but quake over his legs. “mgh- keep fillin’ me up, ‘toru,” you’d whine, sliding your hands up his bare, glistening chest. wide, shimmery blue eyes stare into your eyes before he’s whining, feeling the sharp power of your pussy raw.

he always thought he was the strongest - but apparently, that wasn’t the case ‘cause your cunt had him entirely beat.

“mhm-” you’d cooingly hum, leaning your body up close and personal, stealing a kiss on his twitching, crimsoned lips. “c’mon, satoru. don’t s- stop cumming inside-” you’d whine, the slapping rough weight of your wobbly hips making his cerulean-pretty eyes roll fully back.

he’s stuffing you full - popping in nothing more than a thick, miry load before he melts at your touch. your hand wraps around his neck before you kiss near his chin, huffing breathlessly against his jaw. “can you be a good boy for me ‘n do that?”

gulping, satoru’s scarred hands grab at the fat globes of your rotating ass before he eagerly nods. “y- yes,” and while he’s still pouring in a fresh, hot batch of cum inside you, satoru whimpers once your lips sharply crash against his. “i’ll be your good boy, h- heh-”

✩ ˛˚ . SUGURU GETO.

“all of you, eyes on her ‘n only her,” geto throatily grumbles, one hand permanently glued to the left side of your waist.

darkened eyes scan the room to see his followers silently watching - bowing before their feared leader and his precious, favorite pet..

you told geto many months ago that you always had a fantasy of him fucking you in front of his cult, and now - he was more than happy to make your filthy ‘lil wish come true. you were honestly surprised he even remembered. but oh, he did, and he made sure that all eyes were on you, especially his other favorite ‘girl’ he’d like to occasionally mention that was located right between the arc of your legs.

“hng- fuck,” you’d moan, feeling the silky cloth of his cottony robe bristle against your skin. you’re straddling him with your back turned, and your bare cunt’s just slobbering all over his cherry-red tip. everyone was just gawking at you intently, remaining quiet as your sweet carnal sounds echoed through the thin walls of the building.

“wet girl,” he lowly purrs - his tone dripping with lecherous desire. you’re feeling every immense stretch, nearly drooling from the corners of your mouth once you felt the cult leader’s scarred hands lift your teetering hips. “mngh- good girl, show ‘em how loud this pussy can get for me,” and geto’s thumbing a digit down your dripping nub.

inch after inch - you’re nearly choking on your breaths before feeling his free hand wrap around your throat. you’re moaning, leaning back against his chest as your ass noisily slams into his chiseled pelvis. geto groans instantly, tickling the bare of your exposed shoulder with the ends of his trimmed, black strands. “fuuuck- s’ big, sugu-” you’d mewl out, his thick cock eliciting all types of salaciously, harmonious sounds from your mouth and between your thighs.

the grip you had on him made him groan, rubbing a thumb lovingly against the middle part of your throat. in a way - it’s most soothing. geto’s thumb swirls in circles—just like how your hips were moving, ‘round and ‘round until your pussy’s dizzy. his followers continue to stare at the ribald scene in front of them, a few appalled gasps leaving some mouths.

“she’s greedy today, no?” he breathes, turning your chin lightly to face in front of him. the same thumb swiftly swipes over an incoming string of saliva that was preparing to drip down the crack of your lips before he snickers. “mgh- you’re gettin’ even wetter from this, aren’t cha, sweetheart? right in front of my pests, this turns you on, hm?”

“y- yesss,” you’d whimper with a desperate nod, your pathetic words sounding more dragged out as his cock continued to plow into your slick core. while geto sat on his notorious chair, you’re on top—working your rocky hips after each barbaric, wet bounce. he feels you start to pivot, and his shaft meanly pounds a single thrust near your gummy g-spot.

“sugu!” you’d shriek out, the sudden belting note making your dry throat turn even drier. you swallowed, pausing between strained breaths as your ass continued to move. “right there- pleaseplease, right fuckin’ there.”

“dirty fuckin’ mouth you have, girl,” geto snarls, bringing a wet kiss toward the side of your cheek. you’re whimpering, inaudible words cutely forming into pure gibberish before his tip starts to hit your g-spot again. this time though - it’s intentional, and he’s showering your pulsating spot with a bundle of wet smooches.

ruinously, his cock pummels its way through your insides as your thighs slapped against his. you’re so stupid from geto’s dick that you didn’t even care about the little audience in front of you both. not only that - but you forgot that they were even there..

if he kept hitting you there - you were sure you were gonna cum, not just cum but cum hard too.

and so was geto, because even though you weren’t even looking at him, you could almost hear his jaw clenching, every muscle in his mandible tensing. “hah- gettin’ close, are we?” and his voice starting to turn shaky. he overestimated your cunt — mistake one.

you’re putting all of your weight into your buckled knees as your ass threw itself around in a hypnotic circle. you’re sucking in all girthy inches, his fleshy crown trying to desperately live inside of your warm, welcoming pussy. you ferociously nod your head, softened whiny ‘mmmh’ ‘s leaving your lips before he spanks your wet, full entrance. “sorry, pretty girl. ‘m gonna need to hear ya, ‘n i’m not talkin’ about her right now.”

“ ‘m gonna.. gonna cum, suguru- ‘m gonna cummm,” you swallowed, bringing a shaky, clammy hand toward his meaty thigh for leverage. geto’s right with you, his high quickly approaching and he’d poking his tongue inside of his cheek. your hips were just brutal - and the mental image of him finishing inside of you for once had him grunting against your ear. “hah- inside, inside sugu please.”

“ugh- take it then,” he grumbles, both hands grabbing onto your thighs now. you’re rocking against his lap - vigorous slam after slam nearly giving you whiplash before his swollen head’s just attacking your g-spot with even sloppier precise hits. it’s so wet, and you’re panting—feeling his cold, parted lips attack the side of your neck with kisses. “show these insects how much of me you can take inside this pretty, hungry cunt- fuck-”

long, stringy ribbons of cum shoot inside you merely seconds later as your legs cutely collapse on top of him. geto’s robe continued to prick against your skin as you wriggled against his lap, feeling him dump such a hot batch of cum inside of you. stubby, callused fingertips curl around your throat again as you whimper, feeling his free hand spank your pussy.

“atta girl. saved so much for you, s- soooo much,” he stammers, his flushed tip stiffly poking near your clit. he spills out a lot, and your legs quaked as your droopy, half-open eyes focused back toward his followers.

wide-eyed ‘n all - not a single peep came from them, and they continued to bow their heads while some sat on their knees obediently, witnessing their leader with his favorite cum-dump of a pet.

“s- suguuu-” you gasped, your eyes rolling once he smears a thumb down your sopping slit, sticky webs of cum gluing against his plump digit. geto’s cock was so big, but his load spilling inside you was even bigger. your stuffed insides hugged around him tight, and he’s sucking his teeth whilst still overflowing your pussy with more buttery ropes.

“good … little thing,” geto hums darkly - entirely out of breath. moving a few sticky, black tresses from the temple of his forehead. as you’re still straddling him with your back facing his chest, geto gifts your spewing wet folds with yet another spank, and his hooded eyes glance toward his obedient audience. “quite the show you put on,” and geto steadies your hips with both roughly-textured hands, making you sit upright on his fat cock before purring seductively into your ear.

“heh- but don’t get tired of me now, sweetheart,” you whined, feeling him pat your squelching cunt.

“think this pretty ‘lil cunt could use a bit more training,” and geto’s half-lidded eyes glance toward his followers, bringing a wet kiss toward your cheek. “mwah- this is just the beginning, sweetheart.”

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO.

the first time nanami goes in raw - he gets addicted instantly.

one minute he’s showering your tummy with a trail of kisses and the next - he’s got you in a beloved mating press. nanami gets feral, and the moment he’s feeling you slickly trying to barrel all huge nth inches of his cock, that’s it.

“ugh- so warm for me,” he grumbled, staring at your body that’s oh-so stiff. your legs were raised from each side as his shaft’s just stuffed inside of your overflowed pussy. it’s dribbling with gooey, white masses of cum and you felt like you were about to burst any minute.

literally and physically.

nanami slows himself down, biting his lip once he feels the sludgy rawness of your perspiring heat stick against his weighty base.

“mng- fuck, careful now.. if i stay in this position any longer, i.. hah- might just get you pregnant, honey.”

“do ittt,” the risqué words quickly spilled from your lips as your fingernails dragged a path down the center of his back. nanami’s muscles bulged, and he couldn’t help but sloppily rock his way into your core with just a single jerk of his hips.

you wanted it - hell, you wanted him.

you wanted nanami to fill you to the very brim until he’s entirely milked out—until he’s got no more to feed your poor, starving cunt. the more he huskily rambled to you about just loving to see you, his pretty ‘lil housewife with a round, plump tummy, the more you started to whine against the soft, pointed shell of his ear.

“hic- ‘ken, do it. fuck me, fill me up pleaaase,” and he shudders, feeling the pad of your thumb playfully running a straight line down his fading undercut. nanami’s cock was just so thick ‘n fat, and he doesn’t even have to move to feel you already clenching internally.

“ngh- so hot inside, goddd-” nanami stammers, and while he’s pounding into you raw - he’s still partially clothed. his baggy slacks were lazily pulled down, hitting near his ankles with his button-up tickling against your skin.

as he’s fucking you deep, churning your gummy insides flawlessly like how one would churn butter, you lightly give his checkered tie a cute pull. sweating profusely on his forehead, nanami leans in—thinking he’s about to kiss you, but instead - his lips clumsily land against your nose. “mng- oh, sweetheart. you know how to.. hah- ruin me. ‘m gonna fill you up so good, ugh-”

“c’mon, kento,” you’d whimper, giving his tie an even tighter pull. without question—there was no denying that your pussy had him on a leash. a gripping hold that even left him speechless, damn near drooling.

nanami uses two veiny hands to shove your knees toward the center of your breasts. his balls never felt so full - they’re well rounded and swollen, slickly covered with dewdrops of pre-cum and your slick as he continued to pounce back ‘n forth against your body. “haah- hold me, hold me.. hic- sweethe- fuck.”

you cup his face with both hands, tenderly stroking two thumbs down each side of his hollowed sucked-in cheeks. nanami’s eyes were a dirty color of lust, and he was even whimpering at your touch. it’s quiet - but you heard it, and he’s giving your pussy its last final thrusts before he’s reached his racy peak.

he’s cumming hard, and as he sprays a slimy, gloppy load inside of you, his brain short-circuits. your pussy’s got him glitching literally - and nanami growls out a small, ‘ohhh fuckk’ once he starts to hear the mess ooze inside of you rawly.

“ngh- ‘ken,” you moan, feeling your walls involuntarily close up around you. he’s stuffed you full, and nanami’s hips shimmy slightly before his mushroomy tip pushes his dribbling cum even further inside of you - stopping it from leaking out.

he shushes you with his lips, finally—running his tongue against yours as his body’s careful not the crush you. shared, labored moans fall into each other’s mouths and you wrapped your arms around nanami’s torso. “f- fuck, that’s it- good,” you warbled between kisses, your legs still shoved to the front of your chest. nanami’s nearly frozen - yet he’s still pumping you full of sticky, viscous cum that starts to nastily pour between the pried cracks of your legs.

“s.. so messy, you … made me a messy husband,” nanami grunts, his voice so shaky that it gradually turns into a whimper. you’re chasing breaths right with him, and as your legs squeezed around his waist, you rubbed your ankle around his back in taunting circles. “ugh- you.. hah- really know how to ruin me, sweetheart.”

“kento-” you pouted, still hearing the wet, squelching sounds of him pumping such thick, sappy amounts of cum inside of you. nanami rubs the band of his wedding ring up and down the bare skin of your tummy, feeling you impatiently writhe underneath him. “don’t- don’t stop, fill me up again.”

nanami dryly chuckles—bringing a tender kiss toward the edge of your lips before delicately pulling his aching flaccid cock out. it’s a dark shade of coral-red from the very tip, and his frenulum felt like it was on fire.

tiny remnants of cum continued to spit out down the veiny sides before he bedaubs the head against your sticky pussy. pop after pop and he grunts, staying silent for a moment to hear the mess you made him create. “heh- my wife’s just never satisfied, hm?”

as he’s still gently thwacking the head of his flushed, wet cock against your slobbering folds, nanami starts to align himself back in. you’re clinging onto his tense shoulders, mewling out pathetic sobs of his name before preparing for that same, fat stretch.

“mngh- open up for me again then- that’s it, gooood- good girl,” nanami whispers hoarsely against your neck, kissing down your jugular. “you’re gonna make me the happiest daddy, sweetheart,” and you moaned, hearing the familiar plap of his shaft sliding its way inside of you once more.

as he’s gradually fucking his slippery, hot cum back inside of you after each raw thrust—nanami pushes one of your knees back up toward your chest before kissing the bridge of your nose.

“ ‘n i’m gonna make you the… hah- prettiest mommy, all for me.”

✩ ˛˚ . CHOSO KAMO.

“mgh- baby, your pussy’s gonna fuckin’ melt my dick,” choso groans, surprising the left side of your jawline with open-mouthed, sultry kisses.

it’s sticky, and he whines once the tip of his cock’s just crying against your cute pulsating nub. its pulses were almost akin to heartbeats, each thump! more dramatic than the next.

it feels like forever - time steadies, holding still as if it was taunting choso and he moans against your neck.

he hears the wet biiiiig stretch of your pussy once he’s wetly inserting himself inside. you’re holding his shaft hostage practically as your arms wrap around him. “ngh- so f- fuckin’ big, ‘cho,” you’d hum, pressing hot lips to kiss away his quivering chastened pout. “hah- ‘s like with the condom off you’re even bigger.”

“really?” choso paws a handful of your ass, eyelids trying oh-so-hard to not close themselves shut.

he looked so pretty like this - already pronounced cunt-drunk and you weren’t even riding him for that long. ridden, gripping skin pierces against each other all at once and it’s got every one of choso’s senses heightened. “heh- ‘m glad you think so,” he hiccups, growing a bit of a big head.

as he’s fully plugged in with every thick inch, choso brings both hands toward the edges of your ass before you heard a loud smack. it stings for just a millisecond and you let off a gasp before you’re starting to bounce.

“god, you’re so h- hot,” choso draws in various husky breaths, sucking his teeth at the brutal adequate force of both hips leisurely clashing. “mngh- ride my dick, baby. make me feel fuckin’ good. show me.. hah- what those pretty hips are made for-”

“choso, spank me again,” you’d cutely whimper, the speed of your hips instantly picking up. all of your gummed barriers clenched around the entirety of his length and you nip a soft nibble near his chin. “hng- i like it when you act nasty.”

“do you?” choso sheepishly grins - his lopsided smile haltingly morphing into a smirk. he’s still got big, callused hands that grabbed at your rotating ass before he spanks it… again.

the direct smack against your rear makes you moan and that made choso’s dick twitch from the inside. you felt it too, ‘cause your legs ended up nearly giving out at that exact moment.

“f- fuckk, ‘m startin’ to see why you wanted for us to try goin’ raw,” and as the lust-filled thrusts continue to create plop sounds in the background, choso starts to bounce his thigh to make his hits hit even more rigorously inside of you. “feels soooo hah- good. hips gonna k- kill me, oh- shit.”

each time your thighs loudly slap against choso’s, he’s spanking your ass harder. its a brief sting, and he could hear your cute ‘lil breaths picking up the more you moved. he’s thick - stretching you out from the inside after each, sloppy thrust and you’re just whimpering into his neck.

“ ‘cho- chosoooo~” you’d whine, running the sticky tip of your tongue all around the edge of his neck. both clamoring bodies continued to move and sync, and that’s when he’s starting to grab your hips, making you slam your cunt up ‘n down his cock at a much more hastened pace.

you feel him everywhere—tickling your pulsating g-spot with his tip before surprising it with wet kisses. “fuck- fuuuck, ‘m gonna cummm- ‘m gonna fill you.. hah- right up,” and he pauses, bringing raw-bitten lips toward the edge of your chin. “c.. can i, baby?”

“mhm-” you instantly replied, gasping as choso’s scarred, thick hands resumed to guide your ass. he’s helping you bounce on his cock, giving a bit of your jouncing flesh a playful squeeze. your cunt’s just greedy - swallowing every inch while dampening the entirety of his cock with your syrupy slick. “inside ‘cho- you can.. cum inside-”

“ugh- meltin’ me so good, fuckk-” he snarls, burly arm wrapping around your torso. as weak as your thighs were, you continued to swerve ‘n jolt your bestial hips against choso’s lap. he’s covered with sweat too, and he’s feeling his tip preparing to shoot a hot, sticky load right inside of you raw. choso’s fantasized about this exact scenario maybe more than once or twice.

fuck- just being able to stuff you full, feed your sloppy, greedy cunt with his seed - a dream.

a dream that was very much about to cum true..

because barely seconds passed before choso’s shooting blanks - white, velvety blanks that quickly started to pour inside of your pussy. it’s feeling so hot - and his arms remain wrapped around you, making sure every drop slithers inside. you’re gasping, wriggling a bit on his lap as you feel him giving you such a stuffing load. it's so much that you were sure a bit of cum sprayed a slimy path towards your womb.

“hngh-” choso gutturally groans against your neck, not once releasing his grip around your torso. he’s holding you tight while ribbony ropes continued to flood your cunt. his capped tip remains stilled between your salivating folds before he gasps. “mngh- baby, took it so good.” choso rasps, his voice so low it sounded like a mere grumble.

your legs remained wrapped ‘round his waist like a ribbon on a present before you sighed. it’s a content sigh, and as he’s filled you to the very brim with a gooey, thick load, you brought quivering, wet lips up to his. choso’s struggling to breathe let alone blink, and his lips fail to hit against yours. instead, they land near your nose and he moans.

“f- fuck, ‘m still…. hah- cumming-” choso grunts against your lips, and you let off a soft squeak once choso made you turn your body around.

as he’s still sloppily shoved inside of you with globules of milky, white cum dribbling from your cracked inner thighs—choso makes your back face him. through shaky, unsteady breaths of his own, he’s using two broad arms to slowly lift your legs. “c- choso-” you’d whine, leaning back against his bare chest once he’s locking his arms underneath your thighs.

choso grumbles, nipping a few stolen kisses near your nape before huffing out a feral breath. “ngh-c’mon, baby. ‘m not done fillin’ you up just yet,” and you gulped, feeling a big hand of his delicately press down on your tummy.

“big stretch f- for choso, c’mon-” and you moaned, feeling him brush thick fingers against your dripping cunt that’s still overly sensitive. right at his touch, you end up gushing out a sloshing wet sound, and choso snickers against your ear.

“hah- that’s it- let me hear her talk dirty to me, baby,” and he spanks your pussy, earning a cute gasp from you before rubbing eager circles around your folds - getting loud, sloshing responses from your lower lips instead of your top ones. “i’m listening-”

✩ ˛˚ . TOJI FUSHIGURO.

with a loud, abrupt ‘snap’ toji’s condom ended up breaking mid-thrust and he barely even flinches.

“heh, told ya i was a big boy. shit never fits on me, mama,” toji guffaws, his hips stiffening before he holds your hips upright. “mhm. loooook at her jus’ swallowin’ fuckin’ nothin,” toji pulls out, rubbing a cold thumb ‘round your twitching cunt. his digit’s immediately soaked with your lush slick that’s pouring riiiiight down between your sleek folds. “pretty pussy like this deserves more than a rubber, no?”

“toji- forget the rubber .. hah- just fuck me,” you’d moan out a desperate plea, feeling toji’s coarse gaze despite how you weren’t even facing him.

you were on all fours - prettily hunched over, ass up with your face smushed against one of toji’s pillows. you didn’t care anymore - you needed more, and the more he smeared his thumb around your aching clit, the more you started to grow impatient. “mmgh- you can . . fuck me raw, toji.”

“before i do that, first—let’s get that arch back up, lazy girl,” toji spanks your ass, earning a sweet ‘oooh’ from your trembly, spit-glossed lips.

such sass.

“yeaaah, toji’s gotcha. good girl, fuckin’ bend for me,” he continued, staring as you gave him the arch he wanted. you’re whining impatiently, bawling up a fist as you feel his maroon-shaded tip slap slap slap its way against your the outer part of your pussy.

one smack, two smack, three smack..

toji looooves more than anything to tease you before ramming straight into your sopping core. he’s got the hips of a machine, and you’re clinging onto the bed with your mouth dangling open, eyes goofily crossed. “ngh- fuck!” you’d squeal, hearing toji’s raspy groans from behind you. he’s shamelessly balls deep, driving into your core as the crown of his knees bury into the plush mattress. “fuck me, fuck meee toji, f-”

“ah, no talkin’ when she’s the star right now, baby,” toji gives the left cheek of your ass another cruel spank. his cock’s vehemently throbbing inside of you with all kinds of prominent veins running down each thick side.

“fuck- only back talk i wanna hear is from this chatterbox of a fuckin’ cunt,” toji groans, sneaking a hand between your thighs before rubbing circles ‘round ‘n ‘round. you let off an airy gasp, hearing the wet sounds sing away from between your thighs. as toji’s still drilling into you with all types of primal vigor, that’s when he starts to feel the raw feeling.

the feeling of your cunt - its rawness, and how you’re just swallowing him up continuously. toji’s jet-black brows crease into a furrow before you feel his tottering hips turn rickety. “f- fuuck me-” he hisses through clenched, tight teeth—and you could even feel him trying to run away from your sloppy cunt.

your leg wraps around toji’s waist from behind you and you moaned, raising your ass more before the brat in your returns. “mng- don’t run toji, isn’t that what you always tell me, hm?” and toji’s grunting, multiple taut muscles flexing through his dingy white tank. “keep fuckin’ me, hah- right thereeee. keep hittin’ there, ‘m gonna cum, toji. ‘m gonna fuckin’ all on your dick.”

“someone’s feelin’ haah- bratty,” toji grumbles, feelings of euphoria swelling in his chest all at once. it's intense - and the room’s starting to fill up with the scent of straight musk, cheap cologne, and the citrusy aroma of your own. it makes toji pump into you harder, hitting hit rounded tip against that same ‘lil nub that makes you belt out the prettiest wanton moans.

but as he continued to ram his hips hungry hips back ‘n forth into your slippery core, toji’s grunts started to turn into pure melodic whines.

his black brows furrowed in lust with the scarred edges of his lips shifting in a lewd pout. “ugh- fuck me then, slam those fuckin’ pretty hips back against me, girl- shit,” toji growls, his gruff breaths turning labored after each ramming thrust. his cock’s angry, its tip an even more furious red as it lodged in and out of your wet pussy. every time the curve of his dick stretches its way through your insides - you’re left utterly dumbfounded every time.

he’s hearing the cute squelches your folds make in between hits and he’s groaning, reaching a bulky arm to hold onto the headboard. “mmh- give it to me then, baby girl. hngh- take this dick, take it. f- fuck-”

the big stretch of toji’s cock kissing near your convulsing g-spot leaves you cross-eyed. he’s hitting you deep in all the right angles ‘n crevices, and you end up gushing right as he’s finally dumping a frothy, mushy load inside of you. it spits inside of you and you’re whimpering, spraying your slickness on his veiny dick before slumping your face into the pillow.

“f- fuck, oh- fuck,” toji moans, watching as your hips cutely fall forward. your ass was raised in the air and you were whimpering, hearing the sloshing wetness of his cock slowly drag its way out of your pussy. with a wet plap, he stares as his cum flows down the valley of your dripping slit. toji’s gruffly panting, bringing a fat thumb to smear down the cascading mess before putting it toward his lips.

“t- tooooji- again.”

“patience, ‘lil girl-” he grunts, licking the tip of his thumb. toji’s body shudders as he’s still feeling himself succumb to his awaited end—glancing at your sopping, stuffed pussy that’s just wetly soaking the satiny sheets with his cum.

as you tried to suppress an incoming whine, toji let off an ‘ugh’ once you ended up sitting up, flipping him over before lightly pushing him back. with a sheepish sly expression, toji’s sharpened abs curl forward before clenching at the touch of your fingertips running down his chest. “heh- oh? pinning me down, baby? you’ll hafta- f- fuck-”

cutting him off, you straddled his lap—sneaking a hand toward his leaking cock before giving it a few solid pumps. with it now being flaccid, your thumb runs along a prominent vein that strikes down the skin.

humming, that’s when you decided to give toji’s neck one long, hard suuuck. toji slips off an accidental whimper at your touch, the hotness of your lips making his breath in his throat hitch before you start to stroke his cock.

“are you gonna be a good boy ‘n cum again for me, toji?”

“you wish-”

you stop stroking his aching cock mid-thrust and toji ends up pouting. he’s huffing harshly, already missing your touch before his verdant eyes were almost pleading for you to continue. a big hand grabs onto your wrist and he groans, trying desperately to wrap your fingers around his weighty cock.

“alrigh’ fine.. just.. don’t stop touching me baby, please-”

13K notes · View notes

hellokittyish · 3 months ago

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continuation of this.

★ thinking about bestfriend!satoru who offers to teach you how to give a blowjob so that you can get some ‘practice’ for if you ever decide to do it to other guys.

imagine his big hand tangling in the back of hair, guiding your curious face closer to his lap as he sits with his lanky legs sprawled out in a manspread atop the couch. “that’s it, pretty girl,” he praises, even though all you’ve actually done so far is simply kneel before him. “do you wanna take it out now? these pants are feeling awfully tight, y’know.”

“o-okay, toru.” you hum, slowly trailing your fingers up his clothed thighs to give the waistband of his sweatpants a small tug while his gentle but firm grip on your hair keeps your gaze locked with his the entire time.

and it’s impossible to hide your reaction of wide-eyed surprise once you realize he’s not even wearing any underwear today, his bare cock slapping against his abdomen once freed and causing your thighs to instinctively press together with how big it is.

“it’s okay to touch it, sweetheart,” satoru coos with a soft grin, wrapping a hand of his own around the base and angling it forward so the leaking head taps teasingly against your heated cheek. “promise ‘lil toru doesn’t bite.”

shaking your head to pull yourself from your daze, you lean down and brush an experimental kiss against the pinkish tip of his cock, earning a deep groan from your bestfriend as a reward.

“mmm… doing s’good for me already,” he encourages, peering down at you through messy white bangs with undeniable tenderness dancing in his bright gaze. “try giving it a little lick too, yeah?”

but unfortunately, satoru doesn’t end up getting much teaching done at all when he can’t stop himself from cumming after just a few laps of your soft tongue along his length — oops!

but it’s fine… because the two of you can just keep trying until he actually lasts long enough to show you the ropes for real, right?

12K notes · View notes

tonycries · 6 months ago

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We Neva Play!

Synopsis. Turns out, the “r” in rivals stands for “really good séx” when a mission becomes a little too hot to handle.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, séx pollen, innappropríate use of jujutsu (like a LOT), pússydrunk Gojo, limitless, both are teachers, creampíes, oraI (fem), síxty-nine, banter, breaking the bed, FÉRAL Gojo, pússy-slappíng, BRÉEDING, spítting, reader’s CT mentioned, Yaga’s had enough, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.3k (cries)

A/N. Lacked Gojo in the manga so I present to you more Gojo <3

“Gojo, I will kill you before that curse can-”

“Aw, man!‘ Yuji whines over Nobara’s cackles, reluctantly slapping a few thousand yen onto her outstretched palm. He thuds his head frustratedly against the cool vending machine they were crouched behind, “That was rigged!”

The girl scoffs, counting her hard-earned winnings victoriously, “I told you they wouldn’t even make it until the school gates before fighting. It’s not rigged, it’s common sense - not that you’d know anything about it.” Satisfied, she sneaks a look over the side of the machine at the shrinking backs of you and a too-happy Gojo Satoru. “Besides, we’ll get a rematch soon enough. My money’s on her, double or nothin’.”

“You really think they’ll kill each other before the mission is over?” Yuji muses, eyes locked on Gojo’s infamous smirk - only widening the closer he drives you dangerously towards an aneurysm. “I bet-”

“No.” Megumi’s deadpan interruption startles them both. And as much as he’d like to pretend he wasn’t cramped with the two idiots stalking their squabbling teachers, he unfortunately, very much, was. “I bet ten thousand yen they kill each other before the mission is over. Or worse - end up dating.”

---

“A love hotel.”

“A love hotel~” Gojo echoes, with a hand clutching faintly at his chest. Swooning over you with each word, “Now, usually you’d have to take me out to dinner first, but for you I will make an except- mmpf-”

Now, Gojo knew he could’ve easily blocked your attack - hell, he didn’t even have to bat an eye to activate limitless. But where was the fun in that? Giving into your elbow digging sharply into his side, he’s only cackling at your venomous words, “I could take down both you and those special grades, y’know?”

“Oh yeah?” he hooks a long finger underneath his blindfold, showing off that infuriating wiggle of his snowy brows. “If you’re so great, then why did Yaga have you assigned with me, pretty girl?”

You sigh, rubbing your throbbing temples, “Only because someone-” And oh, if he had the most renowned eyes in all of jujutsu, then you had the most withering glare. “-completely skipped out on his last mission to stuff his face with sweets, n’ now I’m wasting my time babysitting. So this time, I’m in charge.”

Ah, a woman after his heart - in more ways than one, for sure.

“Yes, ma’am~”

Dramatically, he mimics the zipping of his lips shut, readily following you towards the flashy building standing out amongst the bustling Tokyo street. Walls painted such a suggestive pink, neon lights flickering special discounts at passersby - it would have almost been scandalous to be caught outside such an obvious love hotel such as this - if it hadn’t been for the mission, that is.

“Didn’t think our first date would be at a love hotel.” he chuckles as soon as you reach the gaudy, perfumed reception. And that flickering, wide-eyed stare of the woman behind the counter is enough for Gojo to prattle on, “Now, tell me what room you want, honey-” Throwing an arm around your shoulder, you’re pressed helplessly against his toned front. “-they’ve got candy-themed, anime-themed- oh, they’ve even got a train station-”

“Best to keep our train station fantasies to ourselves-” You simper, subtly stepping on his foot with your own, but that only topples you against him. Instantly, another strong arm snakes around your waist to support your weight, as if second nature, “-isn’t that right, dear?”

And you swear, you could spot a tiny dimple when the ends of his mouth curl even wider into a saccharine sweet grin. “If my memory serves me right, you were the one that dragged me here. Isn’t that right, dear?”

Shivers run down your spine - ones he runs the soft, rounded pads of his fingers up and down along. You’re sure you looked like a disgustingly loving couple to the poor lady working at the counter. And to put her out of her misery, if anything, you recite, “A-anyways- apologies. Room 143, please.” Managing to plaster on a weak smile, it only falls flat when the receptionist hands you your key - and two complimentary condoms along with it. “I- uh- thank you?”

And it’s all you can do to not just shove off the 6’3 thorn at your side when he steers the two of you to the elevator with a disbelieving, “Only two?”

Though, you’re sure it wouldn’t do much against him, anyway. It never has - because ever since you’d stepped foot through Jujutsu High’s towering gates as its newest teacher, Gojo Satoru seemed to make it his mission in life to get on each and every single one of your nerves. The only mission he’d willingly do, mind you. Insisting on interrupting your classes, hiding you little sweets in your office, pushing your buttons in front of-

“Well, that went as inconspicuous as ever.” Gojo hums, reeling you out of your little reverie. “Of course, it did, thanks to me.”

“‘Inconspicuous’ my ass.” you groan, hastily punching in the ground number for your room. Yaga had said that the veil was already completed around the entirety of the curse-infested floor by now, good - the faster you could get away from Gojo, the more intact your sanity would be. “If it wasn’t for me smoothing things over, she’d be filing a complaint against the sleazy man in a bad Kakashi cosplay at this very moment.”

“Hey! I didn’t see you putting on any Oscar-worthy performances. And my Kakashi cosplay is gre-”

DING!

The elevator doors open to a seemingly normal, barren hallway - not a hair or person out of place - though, you knew better. And as much of a fool as Gojo acted, he did, too.

His steady arm drops from your side when you stretch out your limbs in preparation - shit, you forgot it was still there. “Watch and learn, Gojo.” you hum.

“Hell yeah, I’m watching.”

A beat of silence. Two.

With his thick blindfold, Gojo’s expression was almost indescribable - but your skin prickles with the slow, sultry sweep of his eyes down your figure. But before you can snap back at his loaded tone, it happens- “Don’t fall behind, sweetheart.”

Curses burst out of the fourteen heavy, wooden doors along the narrow corridor - some small, some big, all crushed easily under the power of your cursed technique. And neither of you had to utter a word to know you’d both be trying to best the other.

You’ve got one slobbering mess of a curse trapped underneath your heel, locked in combat when Gojo calls out from somewhere across the hallway. “Still stuck on that grade one?” Your jaw ticks, pressing the curses face deeper into the carpeted floor of the bedroom, “I’ve already located one of two special grades- better keep up.”

Fuck, curse him and his six eyes.

Not wasting any more time, you easily exorcize the remaining curse, feet carrying you door after door. Most of the infestation had been cleared out by now by the both of you, splatters of red and limbs lining along the hallway - you only felt bad for Ichiji having to organize a clean-up after this.

The next time you saw Gojo’s flash of cerulean eyes was from outside another bedroom. Goading, “Heh, need a little help, Gojo?”

“Oh fuck-” he wraps two arms around the special grade’s flowered horns. Powerful legs bowed, cloudy hair mussed, blindfold dangling somewhere around his neck - he was beautiful. And it was fleeting moments like this that you held an ounce of begrudging respect for him. Ripping those offending appendages, “-off. Roughed up the other special grade for ya since you were so slow, sweetheart - consider it a lil’ gift for this date.”

“Oh, fuck you-”

In the midst of it all, Gojo still manages to flutter his long lashes your way, “Well, we are in a love hotel, after all. Just say so if you wanna get those pretty hands on me.”

“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last person on Earth, Gojo Satoru.”

His loud bout of laughter follows you to the final hotel room - 143, coincidentally. It was decadent, almost-spotless - had it not been for the towering curse hunched over in the middle. You could tell that Gojo had been here, because its pink, scale-like skin was already bruised.

You slam the door shut behind you, better to keep the property damage to a minimum. Hastily getting into action - it wasn’t anything new, after years of exorcizing curses you’d grown used to predicting their pattern of attack. But it was only after a pressurized, finalizing punch of yours lands right on the curse’s thumping neck that you find yourself growing weary. Cautious of the tiny, red flower that’d sprouted out of thin air on its skin. Immediately, you think back to Hanami, because it was blossoming - unnaturally fast - petals unraveling to explode in sparkly pollen-

Shit. Your head whirled, eyes watery at the heady scent, “Wh-what the fuck-”

It takes only that split-second of distraction before more blooms pop! pop! pop! all down the curse’s figure. It just heaves with fatigue when they all burst out the same powdery substance from before.

“Fuck- what is this-” your thighs clench together, teeth clenched so hard it hurt. You stagger back towards your opponent, and it seems this last-ditch Hail Mary caused more damage than good. Because the curse was lethargic, barely even flinching when you’re back to pummelling it with your cursed technique. Again. And again and again- “-if only you’d taken to making perfumes- instead-”

It falls to the ground with a last ringing screech, the flowers withering away instantly.

But the damage was done.

And you’d never felt so drained - even after your most difficult of missions. Never sinking down onto your knees this way, skin heated, mouth salivating. The air in the room was just thick with something so delicious - syrupy, with hints of pine and cherry - traitorously, you find yourself inhaling deep, addictive lungfuls of the scent.

“Smells so-” your brows furrow, digging a hand into the plush bed beside you to clamor back onto your feet. “Smells like-”

Gojo.

Your entire body jolts with something so dark - visceral, gasping when you feel your underwear just drench. Mind such a melty mess filled with only Gojo Gojo Gojo - and before you know it, you’re stumbling towards the door-

Bang!

The aroma only grows heavier near the door, blood thunders in your ear at the deafening crash from outside. Shit, had you locked the door-

Bang! Bang! BANG-

Fuck, neither of you were making it out alive.

It’s the first clear thought headlining through your mind for the first time in what feels like ages - only several, syrupy-slow seconds later does it follow up with the realization that you’re now standing face-to-face with Gojo.

Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.

Who looked absolutely crazed right now - teetering unsteadily on his feet, his head was bowed, fingers trembling. The mahogany hotel door in mere splinters under his hands.

“F-forgot you could teleport?” It comes out a yelp - pained, almost - and the very first note of your strained voice is enough to have his entire, powerful body wracking with a gasp. Goosebumps pricking along his milky skin, he finally - finally raises his eyes.

Shit, he’s finally lost it.

Because Gojo’s gaze was burning, lids hooded, dark pupils blown so wide that his eyes looked almost black. He didn’t look at you with that usual teasing glint, no, he looked like he was going to rip you apart. Twitchy, drinking in a shaky, drawn-out gasp of the scented air. You almost had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade masked as your coworker.

But it’s real - it’s so, so real and you can’t deny it when he’s baring you with such a vicious grin. Plump lips pulled back to show off those glinting canines, “You.”

“Satoru.”

His lips are on yours - pressing and pressing so hard you were sure it bruised. But fuck- you’re kissing back - because how could you not? The candied seam of his mouth was addictive, breathing you in like his last breath of fresh air.

“Kiss me-” he spits into your slack mouth, as if he wasn’t already. Two hands surging forwards to cup your cheeks even deeper, “Kiss me kiss me kiss- fuck-” That last little swear almost comes out as a whimper, and you can only keen when Gojo wraps his pretty lips around your tongue, sucking lewdly. “Y’smell so sweet- taste so sweet-”

“Sa-t-toru-” you’re managing out. It just then hits you how weak your knees have gotten, sinking down to straddle his muscular, jutted-out thigh. It makes him throw his head back when you’re just dragging your hips in a long, languid stripe. “Look what you’ve- what you’ve gotten us into.”

Pulling away to lick lazily up, up, up your neck, his teeth bite just at your thundering pulse. “Me?” he hisses out, voice a few octaves higher than usual. “You think I’m the one fuckin’ responsible for this?” It almost hurt - but it hurt so good. “I’m responsible for this-” And his startling eyes sink down to the darkening wet patch on the middle of his leg, your flimsy panties sticking to his uniform. “-am, I?”

“Yes.” your defiant fingers are trailing down the hem of his shirt, ripping apart those buttons in hasty, urgent tugs until it was off completely. “If only you hadn’t half-assed it with this special grade then-”

Gojo huffs out in humorless laughter into your lips - the same one he’d give a persistent little curse, and it makes your hairs stand on end. Wondering how high the kill count would really be. In the hundreds? Thousands? “I thought you were supposed to be the babysitter, huh?”

Millions.

“And aren’t you the strongest?” A trembly hand of yours ventures its way down his flexing body - down, past those plush pecs, past his flinching abs, dipping teasingly just above where you could feel the hiking tent in his tight pants. “How did you end up this hah- bad?”

You’re holding back a groan at the long, solid inches straining to break free of his thick fabric, you could feel the rapid thump! thump! thump! of his throbbing length under your palm. Fuck, water was wet - Gojo Satoru, unfortunately, had a big di-

“You.”

It’s low, ragged - so quiet that for a second you think you almost imagine it.

“You.”

His lips are sagging open once more, greedy gaze widening - and you knew it was glowing now. Tiny flickers of blue lightning flickering at the ends of his eyes with every mindless gyration of your palm down his bulging, clothed shaft.

“It’s all because of you.”

Yeah, you would be lucky number one on his kill count when he breaks - or maybe he would be on yours

Your back is hitting the mattress, and the buttons of your poor uniform are hitting the velvety floor - absolutely nothing against the strongest, who was now tearing through your clothes the same way he was ripping apart those curses from before.

Shit- did he teleport you two?

“Don’t know-” Gojo pants out feverishly, and at that moment you weren’t sure if you’d simply babbled your thinking out loud or whether he could read your mind. “Don’t- don’t know- fuuck.” Low, feral groans crack at the back of his throat with each inch of your exposed skin, and before you know it, he’s surging forwards into the naked valley of your breasts. Breathing you in so filthily, “Just know that I need you- fuck m’gonna fuckin’ kill someone if I don’t-”

Each spat out little word is punctuated with an intoxicated push and pull of Gojo’s hips. Angrily rutting in-between your thighs until it was just a clingy, syrupy mess of slick and precum between you two.

“Oh-” your lips drop into a soft gasp, reaching out your fingers to smear a sinful sheen down them. It glosses all the way to your wrist with each newly beaded wave of his precum.

It feels so dirty the way you’re pushing the very tips of your fingers into your mouth. Gojo can only look - can barely even breathe when you slur, “You taste so good, too, Toru.”

Oh, that was it.

Gojo Satoru had finally thought he was getting control of his sanity - he finally thought the effects of that cursed technique were wearing off. But now - at that little nickname - he feels something snap. The lamp on your right bedside table shatters.

And usually, Gojo’s taunting was tinted with a little laugh, an inkling of fondness in them - but right now they sounded pained. Wrenching out of his broad chest, “Fuck you. Need you- do you know what you’ve done.”

Your useless skirt - along with your soaked, see-through panties - are ripped off of your squirming body. And for once in his life, he’s speechless - eyes almost bulging out of his skull, nails digging into the plush of your thighs.

Your clothes end up in a pile of sad tatters on the floor, and you felt a strange inkling that maybe you’d end up much the same.

Smack!

Two, large fingers slap down harshly right on your drooling cunt, slobbering down a glistening coat of your pretty juices down his wrist. “Pay attention.” He’s pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your neglected nipples, your stomach, down, down, down in a flurry until the very tip of Gojo’s nose was nudging at your pulsing clit. “Because if m’losing control I need you to stop me.”

The dim hotel lights flicker when Gojo meets your cunt in a sultry, self-indulgent kiss. And through it all, one thing burns into your dizzy mind - his eyes. Maddened, gleaming with slight blue cursed energy in-between your legs.

“Oh.” you’re gasping at the sheer burning stretch of your thighs being pushed to their limits. Gojo didn’t need that much space - he just loved the way you whined. “You’re s-so much better when you shut- hah!”

His tongue shuts you up by flicking harshly over your puffed-up clit, letting your syrupy juices slide their slow way down his eager tongue. “There we go- good girl, good fuckin’ girl. Hah- all it took was some shitty curse to get you hah- honest like this f’me, huh?”

“Don’t act like- ngh!” you’re barely able to drawl the words out, which makes him grin a dangerously content grin. Sharp teeth clenching teasingly around your angry clit, throbbing and slicked glisteningly with his spit, “Don’t act like I’m the only one- this way- hah-”

It was true - every hollowed-out suck on your needy clit had him grinding onto the mussed-up mattress. Those silken sheets hiking up with every drag of Gojo’s weepy erection down onto the bed - imagining you underneath him. It wasn’t enough - it never will be.

That realization was enough for him to break out into a drunken grin, hot tongue smearing open your folds over and over- “Yeah? What about it? Does it scare you that I want to fuckin’ break you, sweetheart?”

He was crazed.

Dangerous. Depraved.

“N-no-” you give such a harsh pull on his soft strands, he’s leering up at you with a dragged-out groan. Looking for the life of him so used - you just knew there’d be thousands that would kill to see the strongest so fucked-out, ear blearily blinking open, flushed your favorite shade of pink up to his cheekbones, mouth chasing those thin spit strands to your glossy pussy. “Jus’ think s’unfair how I’m the ah- only one havin’ fun right now.”

You’re shutting up his pussydrunk protests about how he is having fun and to “please, please, please don’t stop” by crashing your soft lips against Gojo’s. Wrenching him upwards, he lets himself be so used.

“Need you-” you’re gasping, biting into his pouty lower lip. Nosing slowly up his bobbing Adam’s apple, you gasp in that heady combination of pine and candied cherry. “Wanna see if you hngh- taste as good as you smell right now.”

“No fuck- fuck you.” he hisses, wrangling you to straddle his angrily fidgeting hips.

Running a hand down to fumble with his metallic belt - already loosened. But you don’t have the patience - or the sanity - for that right now, because you’re tugging, shredding. The tell-tale buzz of jujutsu fizzing at your fingertips when you tug down the entirety of Gojo’s pants. Kneading the soft peaks of your palm over that sensitive divot on his head, “Who’s fucking who?”

“Me.” And there’s another smack! to the heated place of your cunt, Gojo’s own fingertips having you see stars with his power.

He takes the distraction to just drag you upwards like some ragdoll, easily maneuvering you around. “Turn- turn around f’me- thaaat’s right, fuck-” You’re jostled until your shaky thighs straddle either side of his head, puffed-out pants condensing hotly against your cunt. Your own coming face-to-face with the fat head peeking out from the hem of Gojo’s boxers. Head swimming with how angrily pink he looked, already winking with a drenched sheen of precum up at you. “Arch that cute back a lil’ more- lemme see.”

You’re whirling your head over your shoulders to catch the fucked-out grin on his lips, dragging his tongue out to lap up every bead of your sweet sweet juices, he tilts his pliant head back against the pillows to let it slide down his bobbing throat. “Y-you’re really that pussydr- hngh!”

Another branding smack! leaves you gushing even more down his tongue. “Yeah, s’what I fuckin’ thought.” he spits out a thick wad of spit into your messy cunt. Gliding his wet fingers over the dripping mess that puddles onto the his chest below. “-can’t even run your mouth- so desperate f’me. Taste so good-” Using his inhuman strength to haul you down onto his pretty face.

Before he knows it, he’s slotting the thin tip of his tongue past your quivering hole. Taking him so greedily, the elastic ring of muscle stretches all around his form, clamping down as if to milk something delicious.

And Gojo knows - he thinks with whatever’s left of his rationality that maybe he should slow down, take a second to fuckin’ breathe. But, no, he’s making out with your ravaged pussy like he’s angry he hasn’t done this before - way back when he first met you.

A slender fingers pushes past your swollen folds to curl deftly into your gummy cunt, molding up into that easy divots at your walls. He’s feeling around so depravedly for your g-spot, aching to make you feel just a drop of the sheer need he does.

“Fuck!” Your velvety walls come crashing down around his fingers, knuckle-deep inside your ravenously swallowing cunt. Only getting faster - dipping perfectly to press up against your spongy sweet spots. Shit, he really was good at everything, huh? “You’re so…”

“What was that?” Gojo’s tittering, “Can’t hear you over your cute cunt, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer - you don’t need to, because all the breath in his lungs exhale out in a low cascade. Hiccuping around your candied clit when you take Gojo’s thick, weepy tip just past your lips. Wrapping just around the sensitive slit, it makes him gasp, it makes him keen, it makes him spit out some sloppy swears into your cunt.

“What was that? Can’t hear you over my cunt, Toru–” you bat your lashes, humming around his velvety head. Fuck- if you were in any better state of mind you’d have taken longer admiring him.

Because he was so massive, so pretty with prominent veins thumping at the roof of your mouth. Girthy, rotund end a throbbing red, gradiating into a creamy pink that meshed in delicately with those neat tufts of white at Gojo’s toned pelvis. So delicious. Big enough that you were already wondering just how you were going to walk out of this bedroom - if either of you are in a walking state - or even alive - that is.

“Fuck- fuck you little-” his mouth refuses to part with your puffy pussy lips, even if it was to talk back to you. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ think this is-”

The new angle has his sharp jaw grinding up into you, jostling your body up and down all over his face. He’s whining - heaving - at this point with every sultry swirl of your soft tongue around his twitchy head. Coating down every inch of your silky soft mouth with a hot sheen of precum, he tastes so good on your tastebuds - slightly salty, with a tinge of something so sweetly Gojo.

Powers acting before him, he doesn’t even realize it before he cheats - just a little. Eyes burning with power when Gojo uses his six eyes to plunge scarily accurately into the plushy bullseye of your g-spot. Greedy fingers hitting it again and again and-

“Satoru!” your scolding tone has his globular tip twitch ferally into the back of your throat. “That’s not- I can feel your jujutsu, y’know. S-so-”

“What? Good? Heavenly?” Gojo rattles off. You’re fucking your drooling pussy back into him - you can’t stop the mindless, shallow little grinds in an attempt to meet his mean pace. “Never said anythin’ about a jujutsu ban, pretty- you’re sounding like a sore loser to me.” As if on cue, your cunt is gushing out in more silken sweet juices all down the lower half of his face, squelching so obscenely. His droopy eyes admire your glistening cunt, riding his face to his insanity. “Well- not this cunt, of course, in fact- I think she’s gonna cum.”

He didn’t have to tell you - you already knew, with the trembling in your thighs, and the white-hot pleasure stemming from his incessant making out. Without answering, you only swallow up a few more solid, rock-hard inches of his painfully hard cock, lips stretched obscenely.

“Y-yeah- fuck, now I definitely know you’re close, pretty girl-” he’s lolling out his tongue to let you drag your pussy across harshly. “Don’t be stubborn- cum f’me,” Rough patches of his tastebuds massaging you just right, fingers still pumping recklessly. “Cum f’me- please. Wan’ it on my tongue- want you- want you to use me- please.”

It doesn’t take long before you’re finally cumming, fucking your high over and over Gojo Satoru’s pretty face. He’s wrapping a free hand around the small of your back, just crashing you back into his drunk mouth over and over and–

“F-fuck, Toru–” you whine, toes curling with each crashing wave of pleasure. It was so violent - so dragged-out, like no orgasm you’ve had before. And you didn’t know whether it was because of the technique or the lazy drag of Gojo’s mouth all over every beading inch of your pussy. Your fist tightens around the thick, heated base of his cock, “Need- need you to-”

“No. Fuck-”

In the fleeting millisecond it takes you to blink, your front is being pushed back onto the now-damp sheets again, a grinning Gojo hovering over you. He looked so ruined - smile gleaming with your trickling, dripping precum, eyes crazed. Suddenly, you almost understand why every breathing thing fears him - almost. His eyes were blazing, flushed angrily. “I’m burning- think m’gonna die if I don’t fuck this cunt right now. Fuck-”

“Havin’ to use your powers for everything?” you’re quirking a brow over your shoulder. “Don’t tell me the only reason you brag about being so hah- good in bed is because of that?”

He’s narrowing his glowing eyes, tiny sparks of lightning flying furiously, “Ohhh s’that a challenge, sweetheart?” Gojo’s sharp canines tug on your bottom lip, and you moan into the messy clash of a kiss - all spit and teeth and the taste of you two. “Tell me.”

“So what if it is?” you’re managing to push back against his slender waist. “Without those stupid powers, m’the better…”

Whatever insult was on the tip of our tongue dies down at the glint of the foil in his hand - the condom from before. That tiny square looking so pitiful held between two fingers, “The receptionist gave me an XL, funny, right?” Gojo murmurs, so dark. “Such a shame it won’t fit.”

One daring glance downwards proves him right - because Gojo was sitting so heftily sandwiched between your swollen folds. Painfully beading needy pearls of translucent precum all over your front - fuck, your cockdrunk self from before didn’t recall him being so large. Big enough that you were sure any rubber would be on the verge of shattering into little pieces.

So then go in raw- you think. But before the words can tumble out of your mind, he’s giving a slow, slippery slide on your cunt, “S’alright- with these ah- ‘stupid powers’ m’still gonna get a taste of this pretty cunt.”

And then you can’t breathe - fuck, you can’t even think straight.

You feel like you’re being split-apart, because Gojo’s just barely pushing in the fat, round girth of his head. Managing to pop in his long shaft past that sensitive slit, before his body starts moving in hurried, impatient little grinds. Frantically trying to squeeze himself in deeper- “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, even with limitless you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Limitless - fuck, that’s what it was. You could feel the slight pinch of the pressure around your body, the way he was reaching in so deep inside your velvety cunt despite not even being halfway inside yet.

“Satoru-”

“No-” his flickering eyes bore deep into yours. “Not that- call out f’me properly now, I know that smart mouth of yours can do it.”

Your words are barely a whisper, “Toru–”

The remaining lamp at your left goes out - cracking into tiny shards. And that’s all it takes for him to push and push in, distantly, Gojo knows he should slow down, maybe give you a second to relax - to think. But he could feel his sanity dancing away with every fucking inch fed into your sopping wet pussy, your elastic walls contorting to massage every ridge and vein of his so heavenly. Fuck- he’d fight a thousand more of those special grades just for another taste of this feeling.

“Oh-” Gojo’s jaw hangs slack when he finally bullies past that feeble resistance of yours. The very top curve of his head nudging deeply in a glissading glide down your spongy cervix, heavy balls kissing against your ass.

He lets himself be pulled, used like some filthy toy when your hot tongue cranes to lap up the trail of drool down the corner of his drunken mouth.

“Wanna feel you-” you’re gasping through each thorough, steady ram into your snug channel. “Wanna feel all of you.”

Another memorable slap! resounds through the heady air, sending sparks exploding behind your lids. “Heh- s’this your way of hah- having me stop using my powers?” he chuckles. “I’m onto your dirty, dirty tricks, y’know.”

Truly, he wasn’t. Gojo didn’t think he had enough of his brain unfried to even contemplate that right about now. But it was just so much fun to watch you mewl in protest, your cunt dripping even further down his twitchy balls with each taunt.

“Please- fuck m’burning up-” you spit. “Scared s’gonna have you c-cumming early?”

As a punishment - or maybe a little reminder about who really was the strongest, Gojo infuses his next sharp smack on your clit with an ounce of his jujutsu. The curve of his thumb gliding over in tiny circles to soothe over the buzz, “Talk to me when you can say “cumming” without hngh- stutterin’-”

“Talk to me when you-” Growling into the crook of your neck, it’s all he can do right now to bow his hulking body even deeper into yours, kneeing apart your stutteringly closing thighs. There’s a sloppy, milky ring forming where your folds kept smacking repeatedly against the sharp lines of his pelvis, “-can fuck me without your limitless going haywire.”

Fuck- fuck, how he wanted to prove you wrong. To have you crying out for mercy.

But Gojo’s throat drags out in what almost sounds like a cry when his limitless flickers on and off - just for a second. The mere touch of your slippery soft walls around his hot cock making him just slam down an arm on the headrest. It breaks - shattering into tiny wooden pieces, though, neither of you notice right now.

He’s maneuvering the two of you so easily to push you onto your back. Stuffing your gaping entrance back full again, this time throwing your limp legs onto his broad shoulders to pummel you in such a mean mating press. Just the sight of your fucked-out, pretty face has his ragged breath hitching, “S-sweetheart…”

Whatever answer you give is tangled up in Gojo’s drunken tongue, lapping at your words. His cock feels so heavy, so hot shoving between your legs. And the stretch - fuck, the stretch was something you’d always remember. Stretching out that tight hole into the very girth of his shaft - all the way down from his leaky, flinching head to the thick circumference of his hilt. “I don’t think I can- fuck, can I feel- please, m’dying to know what this cunt feels like-”

Your nails rake down the pale display of his back, those red, red jagged lines making him rut even deeper into you. “Do it then-”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Oh.

Fuck.

It’s like something shatters - maybe limitless, maybe his restraint. Because Gojo’s eyes just fall shut in pure ecstasy, aching cock growing even larger inside you - as if that was even possible. Expanding tautly at your walls, he’s forming you so sinfully around his shape.

“Oh-oh– fuck you feel- how the fuck do you feel so good?” His free hand dips down to roll a depraved thumb over the nub of your neglected clit, catching on your bulgingly-stretched folds. “Holy shit- think m’gonna pass out- think m’gonna die.”

“Hah-” your back arches up sluttily into his around the fifth consecutive time his rough cockhead was grazing so perfectly against your g-spot, fingers buzzing with electricity at your clit. “You’re s-so weak-”

But it didn’t matter, did it? Because all you could do was hiss out a few wet gurgles into Gojo’s mouth, blinking in the sinful sight of him with his eyes so hooded, cheeks burning with a scorching blush, mouth dangling so addictively open while he sucked your tongue. Like he didn’t even realize what he was doing - how each pressurized thrust into your gummy pussy had the lights overhead flickering, sparks of blue lightning bolting from the corners of his mouth at the same sloppy staccato as his hips. How it made you cum.

“Sh-shit, Toru-” you’re gasping at the feeling of your toe-curling high, shots of pure pleasure running through your body. Convulsing up over and over into his weighty body, “Feels so good- m’cumming m’cumming ah-”

Crack!

And then it’s dark.

Hell, Gojo barely even realized when he does, too, shooting out creamy white ribbon after ribbon of seed with a soft, shuddering gasp of your name. And it’s the only thing on his usually-sharp tongue - voice cracking pathetically, when he whines it like a little mantra over and over and-

“Oh-” his five, long fingers splay out across your lower stomach - right where he could feel his own cock twitching wildly at the very bottom of your gooey pussy. Pressing down, hard. “Oh shit- just look at how you’re painted white from the inside-”

The lights were gone out - in all the wards of Tokyo, actually - and yet in the light of the slight flickers of electricity surrounding you two, you could spy the slow, syrupy glob of his cum down your thighs. Coating his hilt in a milky gloss, it sticks to the two of you like a sloppy second skin. “And you expect me to- hah- not go insane.”

You manage out a wet chuckle, too tired to notice how the bed was missing a headboard now. How all the furniture in the hotel room was trashed - as if it’d been slammed down from several feet above. “Hah- b-blame it on the sex pollen.”

The technique has him cumming more than usual, every new wave sloshing at your insides is followed by another - and another until Gojo’s cock felt so raw. Twitching sensitively in a way that brought big fat tears pricking at his eyes, and yet, he still fucks you so harshly into the mattress. Sucking out every remaining dredge of seed in those fat, cum-filled balls thwacking! at your skin. Sloppy. Depraved. Oh, he looked so ruined - like a man that crawled back from death, only to drag you down with him.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Gojo drags his swollen lips down your earlobe. Voice shot, “I don’t think the sex pollen is done yet.”

---

“Trashed all across the floor, trashed furniture - especially in room 143 - Hokkaido still doesn’t even have power.” Yaga’s bellowing voice has you sinking ashamedly further and further into his office seat.

Gojo, however, only beams, throwing an arm around the edge of your chair, “Damn- we should really try to send out the power in all of Asia next time, huh, my pretty girl?”

“Out!”

Across the hallway, three first-years eagerly (well, two of them and a reluctant Megumi) peer into the tense meeting. Wondering what exactly happened in your last mission that caused a record-level amount of property damage and the power to still flicker on and off throughout the day.

Yuji is the first one to speak up, “Well, no one’s dead but- why does the air seem so-” he gestures towards the almost non-existent space between you and Gojo - not anything out of the usual, sure, but the one thing different was the lack of threats. “-weird.” he finishes.

“Tell me about it. That Gojo almost seems…” Nobara shudders in disgust. “...happy.”

And of course, at that very moment, the man of the hour himself turns to look straight at the first-years doing a poor job of hiding themselves behind the door. Sighing overly-loudly, “If you say so, Yaga~” Intertwining his fingers with yours to pull you up with him, “We had a date anyway.”

“A date?”

“A date?!”

“I win.” All eyes - including yours and Gojo’s turn towards the usually-quiet Megumi, his lips turned into the beginnings of a smile. Almost. “You both owe me ten thousand yen.”

A/N. Hope you babygirls have a good weekkkk!!!

Plagiarism not authorized.

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