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tsukuhoe · 3 days ago

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FRIENDS WHO SUCK DICK TOGETHER STICK TOGETHER

it’s so nice when toji is able to pick you up from frat parties! especially when he agrees to pick up your friends too!

pairing: dilf! toji fushiguro x fem! reader x satoru gojo contents: smut, threesome (fmm), fingering, p in v, oral (m! receiving), virgin! gojo, submissive-ish gojo, age gap (toji is late thirties, reader/satoru is start twenties), praise, creampie, pet names (kid, sweetheart, baby, sweets) alcohol consumption wordcount: 3k

“Can I sleep at yours tonight?” Satoru leans down to ask you while placing a hand on your lower back. His breath tickles your neck, and you frown.

“No,” you reply, and Satoru whines, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. “Sleep at your own place,”

“Please, sweets,” he says, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He’s tipsy, you can tell, but he’s nowhere near drunk enough to be acting like this. You shrug him off and send him a look. Satoru’s cheeks are flushed and his hair is messy, and he’s pouting at you.

“Why?” you ask, feeling some pity for your friend, and Satoru grabs your chin, directing your face towards the other end of the room. The couple isn’t hard to spot. Shoko and Suguru have found a couch, the former sitting in his lap as they make out. You grin at the sight.

“Fucking finally,” you say, and Satoru scoffs.

“Yeah, but there’s no way I’m sleeping at the dorm if they’re gonna fuck all night,” he whines, sending you a look that could rival a kicked puppy. “Please?”

“Who’s your friend, kid?”

Toji is not happy. You send him an apologetic smile, slipping into the front seat of his car, while Satoru gets in the back, and you curse your weak resolve.

Stupid Satoru and his stupid puppy eyes.

“This is Satoru. Satoru, this is Toji.”

Satoru gets in the middle of the backseat, his gaze darting between the two of you, a smile growing on his lips. You suddenly feel far too tipsy for this confrontation.

Your friends don’t know about your little arrangement with Toji. At this point, they’ve all figured out that you’re seeing someone, but since you live off campus and the rest live in the dorms, they haven’t been able to find out who.

“Who’s this old geezer?” Satoru asks, and you sink into your seat, pinching the bridge of your nose. Toji gives Satoru a bored look, before putting the car into gear and driving toward your apartments.

“Some manners,” Toji states, ignoring Satoru as he glances at you. You feel warm all over as you decide to just look out the window to ignore the two men having a weird jab-off.

“Thank you for picking us up, Toji,” you say, hoping to butter him up, and a light gasp leaves you when Toji reaches over and squeezes your thigh, his thumb coming dangerously close to your clothed cunt. He eyes your skirt before trailing up to the slutty little shirt you opted to wear for the night.

Your cheeks burn as you meet his eyes. Despite just wearing grey sweats and a black shirt, Toji looks good. Delicious even, and you squirm in your seat. Toji smirks. Your eyes flicker to the rear mirror, and you catch Satoru staring at you wide-eyed.

“Slut”, he mouths, and you glare.

“What’s your address?” Toji asks, and both your heads whip towards him. He looks at Satoru through the back mirror as well, lips turning upwards, scar stretching. You squeeze your thighs together.

Satoru hums. “I’m sleeping at her place,” he states, eyes flicking to you in the mirror, and you shift in your seat again, looking out the window this time.

Toji hums. It’s a low, threatening sound that makes you worry slightly for your well-being, especially when his hand on your thigh tightens for a short while before it’s back on the steering wheel.

“Is that so?”

“Yes”,

You ignore the awkward tension rising in the vehicle, occasionally glancing awkwardly at the back mirror. For a second you consider if throwing yourself out of the car is a viable option.

“How old are you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, silently cursing Satoru before you hear Toji chuckle. Toji’s hand finds your thigh again and the thumb on the inside of your thigh caresses your skin.

“I’m thirty-six.”

Satoru whistles, leaning forward, one arm curling around the headrest behind you as he winks at you teasingly.

“You’re fucking a dinosaur, sweets,” he states, and you flick his forehead, ignoring his whine when he leans back.

“Thirty-six isn’t even that old,” you retort, eyes flickering to Toji when he laughs. He looks amused, you realise, and you can’t help but smile, rolling your eyes. “Besides, at least this dinosaur is actually getting some,” you add, and Satoru gasps in disbelief.

“Hey!” he starts, but Toji’s attention has seemingly been caught because he’s staring at Satoru through the rearview mirror.

“What’s that supposed to mean, kid?”

Drunk on something dangerous and the few drinks you had earlier, you teasingly shrug and place your hand on top of Toji’s on your thigh.

“Satoru is a viiiiiiiiiiirgin.”

You regret your decision.

Never in your life would you have thought that Toji would take Satoru’s side over yours. It seems completely irrational as if you’ve ended up in some alternate universe where oil mixes with water.

Your back is pressed to Toji’s chest, sitting firmly between his legs, something hard poking at your back. In front of you, Satoru sits, blinking at your ruined state, his brain completely short-circuiting.

Flushed cheeks, messy hair, wet pussy, thighs all spread open just for him.

Or at least somewhat just for him.

Toji has one hand around your waist keeping you still; meanwhile, his other hand pumps two fingers in and out of your sticky cunt, spreading you nice and open for him. He kisses your temple, murmuring pretty words, but his eyes are set on Satoru, lips turning slightly upward.

“Now, sweetheart, a person’s virginity is something sacred,” Toji states and Satoru feels his ears grow red, hardly knowing what to do with himself. It’s all so lewd, you sitting there in all your messy glory, meanwhile, Toji is completely clothed. Satoru eyes the arm holding you in place, almost gulping at the muscles.

Fuck.

“You shouldn’t tease your friend,” Toji adds, and you hiccup, eyes nearly rolling back when he curls his fingers up, locating your g-spot perfectly. “So, how are we going to make you apologise, huh?”

You bite your lower lip, eyes focusing back on Satoru, your brows knitting together. There’s an obvious bulge in his pants, and he looks bewildered at best, so out of his element that it’s almost funny. You can’t believe he agreed to do this.

It doesn’t surprise you that Toji is a cherry chaser, but you never thought Satoru’s virginity would be up on the table.

“I’m sorry, ah, so sorry, Toru,” you whine, and when you reach for him, Satoru wastes no time, crawling forward and letting you cup his face. “Can you forgive me?”

He wants to come up with some sassy, smart reply, but it’s proving itself difficult when the sound of your slick pussy is filling the room and your little gasps and moans spill from your lips like honey.

“Of course”,

Toji laughs, deep and rumbling, and Satoru feels himself grow even hotter, especially when you’re pulling him in, shaky hands zipping open his pants, attempting to get them off. He helps you without a word, quickly shrugging them off before he’s on you kissing you messily. He’s greedy, swallowing you up before he’s pulled back by the hair.

Toji’s grip is firm on Satoru, and he shakes his head.

“Not so fast, brat,” he states, removing his hands from your pussy, ignoring your whine as he puts them in front of Satoru. Your jaw fully drops when Satoru opens his mouth without complaint, sucking Toji’s fingers clean of your slick. Satoru moans at the taste and you feel yourself pulse with need.

“I’m letting you borrow my sweet thing; the least you can do is show some respect to your elders.”

You huff, squirming in his lap and rolling your eyes.

“God, old man, why do you have to be so–”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because soon Toji’s fingers are stuffed down your throat instead, letting you taste the remnants of yourself and Satoru, and you moan. Toji shushes you, kissing your temple.

“Holy fuck,” Satoru states, and you glare at him, hardly able to retort when your mouth is full. There are stars in Satoru’s eyes when he crawls forward, eager to get his hands on you.

Toji pats Satoru’s cheek before moving his hands down, pulling his dick free from his boxers. You gasp at the sight, your eyes going glossy. It’s so pretty, all red and leaking at the tip. He’s not as girthy as Toji, but he might be even longer, and you silently pray for your cervix's well-being.

Toji seems to make the same observation as you because he removes his fingers from your mouth and strokes your cheek softly.

“Guess you won’t need more preparation, huh, sweetheart?” His tone is teasing, but you don’t miss the blush on Satoru’s cheeks, especially not when Toji brings his hand down, guiding Satoru’s dick through your slick folds.

“Please,” you whine, hands pulling Satoru closer, scratching his undercut and making him shudder.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs under his breath, eyes trained on your pretty needy cunt, dying to feel your heat wrapped around him.

“You nervous, kid?” Toji asks. Satoru grins.

“Nah”,

The first push of his hips against yours is pure ecstasy, your walls sucking him in, as you claw at him. You’ve barely been fed a couple of inches, and you’re so cockdrunk, wrapping your legs around Satoru’s waist, begging him to fuck you already.

Satoru’s eyes are squeezed shut, and he hides his face in the crook of your neck, feeling completely overwhelmed. The feeling of pussy is unlike anything he could’ve imagined, and his dick throbs inside of you, immediately ready to pump you full.

“Move,” you whine, always so impatient, and Satoru whines, shaking his head.

“Gimme two seconds,” he says, taking a deep breath, and he feels your body vibrate when Toji laughs, somehow only making Satoru feel closer to his inevitable end.

He’s not exactly interested in giving too many thoughts as to why that might be, so instead he slowly begins grinding into you. The mewl you let out is sinful, and you grip him tight, nails digging into his skin as you throw your head back on Toji’s shoulder.

Satoru’s brows fly up, and he meets Toji’s gaze.

“Is she always like this?”

Toji huffs.

“With me, she’s worse.”

That seems to start something, because soon enough you’re getting your guts rearranged, every push and pull of Satoru’s cock causing pleasure to shoot through your body. It’s so good that you can hardly form a thought, let alone a sentence, wondering how the fuck this is Satoru’s first time when he’s making you feel this good.

Satoru is no better. His face is buried in the column of your neck again, practically drooling onto your skin as he bullies himself inside of you, revelling in every moan you let out. It’s all so new, especially when a big hand once again runs through his hair and he’s eye to eye with Toji, who grins at him.

“Thrust upwards,” he states, and Satoru’s hips stutter for a moment as he processes the demand. Something delicious is turning in his gut, and he lets out a dumb huh, feeling completely stupid from the grip of your pussy. “Upwards, kid”,

Once his brain finally catches up, he does as he’s told, a faint voice in the back of his head asking him why he’s taking commands from some old man, but then the head of his cock hits somewhere good, and your sensitive walls constrict around him so tight it makes his eyes roll back.

The moan that leaves you is downright filthy, something between a sob and a whine, but it seems like a good thing, so he decides to focus his attention on that spot, hitting it over and over again.

"That's it.”

Satoru’s head snaps towards Toji, who’s kissing your neck, one hand grabbing your tit, rolling his thumb over your nipple, while the other snakes down your body.

“You close?” he asks, and Satoru nods, biting his lower lip to keep anything embarrassing from spilling. Toji chuckles. It’s deep and raspy, and it only makes the knot in Satoru’s stomach tighten as he grips your hips and fucks you harder.

“Ah, that’s not gonna work, dumbass,” Toji says, and the hand on your tit moves to Satoru’s abdomen, slowing him down. The other hand moves to your clit, rubbing firm circles that make you twitch and gasp for air.

“Sir”, you gasp, a hand flying down to grip his wrist, but it’s hardly effective, doing nothing to stop the assault on your poor clit.

“Let me help you, baby,” Toji says, before turning his attention back to Satoru. “Steady pace, there you go.”

Satoru feels dizzy, enchanted by your cunt and somehow also by Toji's presence.

“Good boy.”

He nearly blacks out when he comes, a broken whine leaving him as he spills inside you, fucking you through his orgasm. Toji’s skilled hand, along with Satoru burying himself as deep as he can go, tip pushing against your cervix makes you come soon after, your body going rigid as your eyes roll back.

It’s a glorious sight, and Toji groans, removing his hand from your clit when tears begin to spill down your cheeks. It takes Satoru a minute or two to come back down, but when he does, he giggles at your tear-stained cheeks.

“Always such a crybaby,” he teases, and you pout, especially when he pulls out, watching cum leak out of your messy pussy.

“I’m not,” you sob, feeling Toji wipe your tears before pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Not bad for your first time, kid.” Toji stays, and Satoru rubs his neck, shrugging.

"Yeah. Thanks,”

He’s ready to go to the bathroom and clean himself up, but then you’re getting out of Toji’s lap and dragging Satoru down beside you, so you’re both between his legs.

This feels a little weird, and Satoru almost gulps when he looks up at Toji.

“It’s polite to return the favour, Toru,” you say, and he blinks at you, especially when you rub your cheeks against the bulge in Toji’s sweat, looking up at the old man with hearts in your eyes. “I’ll help you.”

It’s unbelievable.

Satoru is used to seeing you so dominant.You’re sassy, and smart, and most of all, you’re pretty much always teasing him, never letting him relax. Always one to start arguments (even the ones you can’t win).

With Toji, you’re sweet. A completely different woman, pliant, docile, obedient. Satoru’s not even sure if Toji has done anything in particular; the man radiates dominance, but you’re just so eager to please as you keep eye contact and pull his dick out of his sweats, immediately sucking on the tip. It’s like you’re a completely different woman.

Satoru’s eyes nearly roll out of his head when he eyes the sheer size of Toji’s dick, but then you’re turning your attention towards him, urging him to come closer, pulling off Toji's cock with a pop.

“C’mere”, you giggle, and Satoru almost whines, especially when you put Toji’s cock to his mouth and he licks a stripe down the side. “Good boy”,

Satrou feels himself twitch, and he gasps, especially when you join in, and now you’re both licking and sucking Toji’s dick, tasting the precome dripping out of his slit and worshipping him in all of his glory.

“Fuck”, Toji’s eyes are shut in bliss, and he puts a hand on each of your heads, guiding you up and down as he pleases. He cracks an eye open, pulling Satoru off before he guides your head down till his pubes are tickling your nose and you’re choking on it.

Tears prick in your eyes, and you moan, gagging as you grip Toji’s thigh while the other digs into Satoru’s hand. When Toji finally pulls you off, you gasp for air, and Satoru is just about to tease you, but then it’s his turn, apparently, and before he knows it, Toji is guiding his head down on his cock.

Satoru moans, especially when he feels your nails raking down his scalp; meanwhile, you’re crawling up, kissing Toji messily. He cradles the back of your head, and kisses you messily, sloppy, meanwhile his hips are thrusting up into Satoru’s mouth, twitching each time he gags on it.

Satoru barely feels the twitch before Toji comes down his throat while releasing a series of sinful moans into your mouth. He keeps him there for a few seconds, riding out his high before he pulls off Satoru too, kissing him on the mouth.

“You’re much more tolerable when my cock is down your throat,” Toji compliments, and Satoru can't help but grin, especially when you kiss him too.

“Mhm, thank you, Toru baby,” you add, kissing his neck. “Did so well.”

As if on cue, it seems that your tiredness catches up with you, and you sink into the comfort of your sheets, sighing. You feel the bed creak when Toji gets up, slapping your ass before saying something about cleaning up and getting a towel.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

It sounds like a question, but it seems to you that Satoru has already drawn a conclusion. Huffing, you attempt to ignore the beating of your heart and the tiny lump in your throat.

“No”,

“Does he know that?” When you open your eyes, Satoru is still grinning, wiggling his eyebrows at you, and you groan.

“Fuck off,” you say, glancing towards your door before looking back at Satoru. “There’s cum on your chin, by the way.”

thank you for reading!

@satorusprites HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH CUTIEPIE!!

masterlist | divider by enchanthings

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tsukuhoe · 3 days ago

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SATORU, PhD (PRETTY HOT & DOMESTIC) — prof gojo series

His students get theories. Well… You? Satoru in a half-buttoned shirt.

pairing: professor!gojo x f!reader

summary: unlike the vast majority of people, your life at university have sometimes... nothing to do with a normal student life. good grades? pfft. partying? what’s next? no, it’s better to be your professor’s girlfriend. the roguish, charming and arrogant satoru gojo — the one who turns heads and has the knowledge to fulfill your satisfaction. and even to fulfill both your lives, which are only destined to merge… enough for you to live together.

warnings: MDNI +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m!), shower sex, kitchen sex, car sex, office sex, probably a lot of sex, sex p in v, unprotected sex, rough and gentle sex, (reverse) cowgirl, missionary, doggy-style, teasing, 69, creampies, overstimulation, eventual anal (why not?), multiple rounds, eventual breeding kink but not as main (once or two), art by @/3-aem.

content: reader is in her early 20s/gojo in his early 30s, age gap, college AU, golden retriever! gojo, slight black cat! reader, suggestive, jealousy, domestic life, fluff, slight angst, crack, smut (a lot actually), gojo being gojo, student-teacher relationship, gojo wants the reader as his wife, he’s quite rich.

wc: 0k

status: ongoing

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1. A DISTRACTION? OR A DUTY-FULFILLING BOYFRIEND?

...and more to come!

a/n: welcome to this new series! i don’t have much to say here cuz honestly? i crave professor gojo so bad that i need to write down what i’m daydreaming about him all the time. also, i don’t think i’ll write everytime for this series but at least once a month when i’m ovulating or have a new idea. now, i can only wish you guys to enjoy this silly little series of one-shots with a life as professor gojo’s girlfriend :)

put your age in bio before asking to be tagged please!

tag list: open

#..! bookmarked

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tsukuhoe · 4 days ago

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why isn’t nanami kento real.

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tsukuhoe · 4 days ago

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ABRACADABRA

Synopsis. No one else made you cúm before? No problem! Of course, he’s there to help.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, JJK men making you cúm after your ex couldn’t, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, matíng presses, cervíx kíssing, dúmbifícation, TALKING YOU THROUGH IT, biiig stretch, creampíes, spítting, chokíng, oraI (f), exhíbitíonism (Gojo), use of jujutsu, doctor!Higuruma, p examinations, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s second mouth, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Happy early VaIentine’s day lovelies <33

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - COCK(Y)

“M’almost insulted, doll.” Toji’s letting his muscular back slouch heftily against the padded pillow, pinkish tongue poking out to drag a slow lick across his scar at the way you straddled him. “Let your dear Toji here take gooood care of this pretty pussy now.”

“B-but Toji–” Your hands ghost down his tensing abs, rock-hard and so sculptured underneath your sensory tips that you can’t help but ogle. Whispering, “None of my exes have ever made me c-”

“So what, girl?”

He’s latching a strong hand onto the side of your waist, letting your eager hips slip n’ slide all down that girthy length of his. Scorching hot, lathering your entrance in a slobbering layer of pre at just the thought of being inside you.

A puffy vein catches on your sappy entrance and you find yourself letting off a moan, spine arching into his bulging pecs. And all you can hear are his rasping chuckles, something dangerous. “Ya seriously think Toji Fushiguro wouldn’t be able to make ya cum?”

And it was a rhetorical question - something to make your bottom lip wobble oh-so-cutely just the way he liked.

But when you’re steeling your hazy gaze on him and shaking your head? Oh, if Toji was any lesser man then he might’ve just cum right then and there.

Aching shaft throbbing out a rapid little ba-dump–! right around your gummy ring of muscle. Stretching you out agape, Toji’s of such staggering size that he has to splay out his feet flat on the springy mattress - rutting up in sloppy strikes to your mushy walls just to fit inside.

He takes a fat few fingers to pry open your leaky maw, thumbing apart your kiss-bitten lips until your tongue lolls out automatically for him to spit-

“See that?” Toji thumbs away the see-through splatter sprayed at the edges of your cockdrunken grin, murmuring. “Show me- show me.”

“Ngh- s-so dirty, Toji.” You whine, jittery body wracking with shivers after every inch he slipped inside of you. After every moment spent basking in his heady gaze, willowy eyes narrowing down when you dart out your tongue to put that webbed mass of saliva all on display.

“H-heh, yeahhhh, atta girl. Mine inside n’ out now.” Your eyes slide allll the way to the back of your weary lids when he splats your tastebuds with- not one, but two more weighty wads of spittle. Closing your slackened jaw shut with one hand, the other finds itself cushioned underneath his sweat-dampened locks. Biceps flexing sexily, your stomach tightens in need. “Ride yerself stupid on me now, why don’t ya- Make that pussy cum.”

He’s pounding up into you like he hated you - like he hated those stupid memories of faking your orgasms in the years before. Wanted to prove himself with every syrupy peck at goopy pussy.

Breaths spilling out in clouded puffs, your nose crinkles at the way that you’re stumbling to take such copious inches of him. Every bounce swabbing Toji’s rounded mushroom tip at the deepest sponges of your cervix, “Shit- shit, s-so big–”

“Yeah? Big, huh? Just big?”

Babbling away, “Really, really big.”

And that only made him harder - bulging out your tautly stretched walls until you were wrapped around him like a clingy second skin. Until you were molding to every bit of his circumference and bumpy veins. Meeting your pap! pap! papping! cadence with mean bucks of his own, Toji wastes no time rolling the plump hill of his thumb across your clit. “See her? That cute, needy clit? Ever had her played with?”

“O-only on my own.” You’re sinking your teeth into your quivering lower lip to stop the overspilling squeals - but it doesn’t work. Not when every lil’ calloused heart being drawn on your bundled nub makes you see stars, “Feels so good Toji—”

“What’d I tell ya, silly girl?” Oh, he’s so smug. Stray hand grazing down your spine in a little massage that makes your hips stutter down even harder. Faster. With a quirked brow, Toji feels himself grin at the wet little slurps slurring from between your bloated lips. Your other ones. “Damn, real hngh- chatty she is- hold on, you’re gonna loooove this, doll.”

Your head bobbles stupidly, mewling. “Love wh-wha- oh.”

In the split-second it takes the honeyed syllables to fall from your mouth - Toji’s fucking them out just as fast. With a jagged, drilling thud! of his fattened cockhead against your g-spot.

For the first time ever.

“Tha’s your g-spot.” Rovering up the globed pad of his index all up your tummy, you flinch when he presses hard down where his length was striking the very bottom of your pussy. “My favorite.”

“H-hit it again-”

“Tch, greedy.”

Your throat is rendered so very parched with every soppy French kiss he planting on your magical spots. Once. Twice. Thrice. You were addicted. So many times that you can’t help but lose count and drool- “Fuuuuck. Oh my god, th-there. There- I’m so close.”

“Shush, girl.” A bulky hand plasters over your noisy mouth, seeping Toji’s steaming hot skin with glossy lathers of your spilling saliva. He nods downwards, where you were screaming out squelches. “Give ‘er some respect, she’s bein’ fucked properly for the fist time n’ wants to speak.”

You were being fucked properly for the fist time.

And it seemed like Toji had no thoughts of stopping - no thoughts of even slowing down from the way he was spearheading every tender orifice homed inside of you. Making you dizzier and dizzier and dizzier with each passing second-

“Toj- mmpf- Toji-” you’re sobbing, like a little mantra. Like the only thing in your mind right now - and he knew it, smugly.

Pulling the curved edges of his fingers away with a slick few strings of juices connecting them, it’s the last thing you register before the solid spank. “Cum.”

You were so pretty when you hit your high. He thinks he might be in….love.

All throaty moans of Tooooji, and your lashes glazing with thick layers upon layers of tears. Hitting headfirst into the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, it’s all you can do to throw your head back and clench around Toji’s thick, throbbing length tightly.

Dirtily. Until he was hissing and fighting to drag you n’ your gripping cunt with one big, beefy arm to fuck you through your high.

“Tha’s why you couldn’t ngh- c-cum, doll.” He spits into your open mouth, letting you claw and bite and ruin the steamy plane of his sweat-simmered flesh. “Wasn’t fucked properly- wasn’t- s’alright. Toji’s here, Toji’s makin’ you cum. Gonna take gooood f-fucking ah- care of you.”

And your vision tinges with black, treacly slit grinding back against the delicious curve of his plumpened balls. Head static, entire body still wracking with shivers when you feel it-

He’s teasing an innocent kiss near the curled corner of your mouth. Feverish. “Now…have ya ever heard of squirting, doll?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Ladies first.

“Never?”

“Never.”

Fuck- a gorgeous girl like you and none of those boys have ever even made your pretty pussy cum?

Your coworker finds himself gulping, thickened digits trekking up to his yellow tie and loosening. He feels so…feverish at the thought.

Thank god it was just the two of you working overtime tonight.

And even clearing his throat doesn’t make that ragged edge of his words bate, doesn’t make him sound any less feral. Eyes molten and hot on yours, you catch the way the tips of Nanami’s ears scorch bright red. “I-if you would like, darling…I could show you how a real man fucks.”

That’s how you found yourself like this - pinned face-down on your corporate cubicle desk, maw leaking saturated waves of drool onto documents you were sure were important. Struggling to squirm against the shackles of his tie with every pressurized pound-

Ptwah! A messy wad of something slick and slippery strikes your overstuffed pussy, spittle smeared across your bulging folds with a sultry swipe of Nanami’s fat thumb.

“Kento–”

“Almost hah- almost there, my love.” He’s gruffing out in a roughly condensed pant from behind you, hot breath hitting the back of your neck and making your skin simmer with goosebumps. The doughy curve of his length twitches, “Just a little longer.”

“L-longer?” You’re babbling away stupidly through flooding strings of saliva, head able to lift only a few centimeters off of the cool plane of your office desk. “Are you gonna c-cum too, Kento?”

“Ladies first.”

And, shit- Nanami Kento might be known around the office as the perfect gentleman - but when he fucked, he fucked you so filthy. Like no one else ever had before.

You swear you could feel your goopy walls contracting and molding to every hot, weighty square inch of him.

Curling a few dexterous fingers underneath where your wrists were pinned haplessly behind your back, all it takes is the tiniest of jerks for Nanami to lift you cleanly off the desk. With one hand, weightless.

Pressing a sweet, sweet kiss against your sweaty temple, he was hunched over you so close now with the changed angle. And you could count every flex of Nanami’s thick thighs pushing you from behind, every scratch of his tawny happy trail against the jiggling curve of your ass.

Humming, “Mhm— this cute cunt’s tellin’ me that she’s gonna cum right about…” One soft peck at the corner of your mouth, and then another one from his globular tip against your g-spot. Hard. “-now.”

And when has Nanami ever been wrong?

It takes one- two thuds! of his bulky tip crashing into your most tender spots before your vision closes and you see black. Jaw dropping open to gape n’ close soundlessly, brows furrowing at the heat in your tummy because shit, it feels so good.

Your melty walls clinging onto his shaft so cozily- “Fuck, s’f-fucking tight. Can barely even fuck you through your cute high. How are ya even ngh- taking this big fucking cock, darling?”

“Wait-” you’re trilling away like his favorite song. Every dab of his weepy orifice into your cunt making you sob, “Oh my god- feels so- so good. So fuck! D-does it always feel like this, Ken–?”

“Awww, poor girl missin’ out.” Nanami’s glissading pecs stick to your back like a cushion, rumbling. Hips hitting yours with a thwack! thwack! thwack! that leaves you craving carnally for more. “Gotta teach her proper- teach- teach her properly.”

Before you can even ask what he means - before you can even register Nanami’s moans - he’s latching on a few fingertips onto your plump clit. Rolling over and over in lazy circles-

“Cute lil’ clit- poor thing’s never been given ngh- loving before.” Oh, he’s been holding this back - heart racing at the way you’d cum all over his cock and nothing but his cock. And Nanami sounds desperate now. “Clench ‘round me, my love- clench. Please.”

Heedlessly, you’re listening to his exact words before you even register them.

Dewy walls squeezing around Nanami’s girthy length, massaging every lightning bolt of his veins. His slit. Everything. And he’s losing his fucking mind-

“Ohhh—” Planting kiss after kiss on your neck, he tugs you with that lecherous tie wrapped around your wrists until you were just plastered all across Nanami’s Herculean front. “Good, huh? Good? Can you say biiig stretch?”

“B-big-”

“Mhm?”

“Biiig s-stretch-” God, he was fucking you until you felt shy.

“Atta girl.”

“Feels so w-weird, Ken–” You’re yelping, pearly gumdrop of tears welling up behind your lids at the way you feel so raw. Your sensitive walls pried apart with Nanami’s flaming red tip, probing inside until it felt like he was jackhammering your very lungs. “M’all- ngh- extra s-sensitive and- ah!”

And you don’t know what you expected Nanami to do - you don’t know how you expected him to react. But it certainly wasn’t for him to snicker.

Octaves higher, reverent.

“Awww, my overstimulated girl.” Murked clouds hit your prespired neck, and it’s as if his strokes get impossibly deeper. Faster. Sloppier. So, so messy on your clit that your syrupy ribbons of slick puddle on the ground with a spattering splat! “Don’t worry, m’g-gonna make it allll better- ya here? Gonna make you feel so good.”

You can’t even think at this point. “Good?”

“Mhm–” Within only a few blinks, a tannish veiny forearm takes up your blurry vision. Nudging your slobbering lips, “Now bite.”

Your teeth sink into his muscled mounds of flesh before you can stop yourself - and Nanami’s letting his head fall before he can. A grated f-fuck! escaping him once he graces your snug pussy with a thrust so harsh that it leaves your legs dangling in midair.

You think you’re cumming again for the second time - you think you’re blanking out. But the only thing you can feel right now is the scorching hot dripping of Nanami’s warm cum seeping into each nook n’ cranny inside you.

Overspilling from your puffy lips. Sloshing around with every drilling stab-

“Now that’s called a c-creampie, darlin’.” He’s groaning out - and you know what it is. You can feel it swashing down in buttery rivulets from the insides of your thighs, sticking to your warm innards like a sloppy second skin. And he’s still pounding you utterly stupid- “Say ngh- ‘creampie’ f’me?”

You’re whimpering, wrung so tautly that it felt like you were about to snap. “C-creampie.”

“Good…good girl.” Nanami’s purring, sneaking in a thumb to pattern little drawings all over the ivory splatters of cum topping your clit. Plugging those very same fingers into your mouth- “Now can you ngh- say ‘Ken, please b-breed me’, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Never enough?!

“S-Suguru, I’m gonna-”

“Damn right.” He’s spitting glinting speckles of spit past your slackened lips, narrowed eyes boring down at you deeply through an inky curtain of bangs. The look in them is animalistic. “Again- cum f’me again. Cum goddammit-”

With your head striking the ends of the puffy pillow with a thud! you swear your entire body shivers as if shocked by a thousand volts of electricity. Crashing headfirst into so many white-hot peaks of bliss that it makes your head spin.

Over and over.

And it’s just about all you can manage to force your boneless limbs right now to throw your hands around Geto’s sweat-glistened back and claw your way back to sanity. “M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming.”

“Fuck!” He hisses at the agonizing sting that only makes Geto’s puffy cockhead twitch ‘round your gooey insides. Tight. “Got ya fucking addicted now, huh? Needy lil’ slut.”

It could’ve been your fifth orgasm of the night - hell, it could’ve been the five-hundredth and you wouldn’t have known at this point.

Because Geto Suguru wasn’t just making up for a single round of missed orgasms - he was well and fully intent on making up for all of them.

And you’ve barely stolen back heady clouds of your breath, barely even blinked the woozy vision back into your eyes before Geto gives your fluttering cunt a sharp spank. Snickering mercilessly at the way you’re flinching your spine into a deep curvature.

Cute.

Padded kneecaps smearing your helpless thighs ever-wider in a mating press so filthy it couldn’t even be called one right now. You can only watch as Geto’s toned hips slow down until he was barely even grinding. Lazy, sensual drags of his swollen shaft up n’ down your tender walls.

He smears the doughy fringes of his fingertips all over where you were simply bulging to desperately accommodate his size, “Not gonna s-say ‘thank you’ for your fifth orgasm, gorgeous?”

“Wh-wha- thank- ngh!” Your veins boil with embarrassment at how you can only gurgle and gasp right about now, a thick stream of drool flooding from the edges of your mouth. “Sugu—”

“Oh?” Before you know it, there’s a searing grasp on your scalp - Geto. His perfectly manicured fingers clawing onto the sweat-dampened crown of your head and dragging you mercilessly off of the drenched mattress. All the way until your tears cooled with his murked puffs, “What was that?”

Teeth drawn, canines glinting. He was snarling.

You’re squirming impatiently, jostling his split-ended tip in wet swivels around your greedy cunt. Still throbbing. Still unmoving. “Said- ngh-”

Bent alllll the way back - he’s angling his ears to face your fucked-out face with a grin, tightening that shackle-like hold on you until you were keening. Enjoying this way too much. “What? What was that? How bad do you hah- want it because m’not moving an inch.”

You didn’t even know if you could cum at this point - whether you could physically even handle it. Stringing endless beads of tears from your eyes, skin breaking out with heaps upon heaps of shivers.

Sensitive.

“Can’t- can’t even-” And the only time you’re seeing his rude façade splinter is once your trembly fingers trek upwards to clasp around Geto’s own slender throat. Tight. His breath hitches, bumpy Adam’s apple bobbing underneath your touch-

Fuck.

And he can’t fucking stop himself from giving in to slash your slick-buttered cervix with a sudden thrust. Arching off of the soaked-through bed with a slightly singing creak! the clammy skin of Geto’s pelvis sticks to your own like glue. Smearing and oh-so-sloppy.

All that it takes for the words to be fucked out of you cockdrunkenly, still twitching with the remnants of your previous orgasm. “Th-thank- Thank you, Suguru–”

Oh, what a sight it was.

With Geto’s eyes glazed over, long Stygian lashes flickering like they were about to screw shut. High cheekbones radiating off scorching waves of his bright blush, and- and he was drooling.

A thin, silvery line of saliva that spattered from the edges of his oh-so-feral snarl. “Y-yeah?” Oh, his pretty baritone cracks many multiple octaves higher. “Now you can sh-show some fucking ngh- appreciation, can’t you?”

“Sugu-”

“Shut up.” One push. Two. Three. Until it felt like the scratch of Geto’s drenched black happy trail against your pelvis was going to brand permanently on your skin, scratching something deep and primal seated inside of you. He darts out his candied pink tongue, “Suck on m’tongue.”

And when you do it’s like your favorite bubblegum candy, he tasted so sweet - and he was fucking you the exact opposite. Quick, rugged thrusts that rendered you speechless-

“S-stupid girl- isn’t that right gorgeous?” Muffled and mean. It takes you a few tizzy seconds to realize that Geto wasn’t even talking to you at this point - clouded amethyst eyes locked on your saturated pussy. The way she was swallowing his reddened length endlessly, “Doesn’t even know what she m-missed out on ngh-”

Each pressurized force of his pounds left your heart racing, swabbing to leave geysers of pre in softened spots that you didn’t even realize you had - hell, you might just be falling in love.

Fingers dipping away from the prespired column of his flushed neck, just a mere slippery inch before you’re startled by his parched voice. Shaky. Begging. “No- nooo you d-don’t-” Geto’s clasp on your wrist is bruising - permanent. Wrapping your fingers back where they were beginning to form red banded marks ‘round his throat. Tightly. “Ch-choke me- choke me while I make you cum a sixth time, gorgeous.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Sweet Expresso

“Oh, baby…” Choso’s drawing out in a sweet, simpering sigh - entire mouth just watering at the sloppy bucketloads of slick pouring from between your sappy folds. It was like he had his favorite meal all laid out in front of him. “Baby baby baby—”

Your legs splayed apart on the soft mattress, twitching ever-so-slightly with every hot cloud of breath that your awestruck best friend was panting out.

In love with you. In love with your drooling cunt.

Back arching off of the sticky sheets, you’re lifting your hand to run over Choso’s long mahogany locks. Lower lip jutting out in a way that makes him almost whine-

“T-told you, Cho- no ex of mine has ever made me cum before by eating me out- ah!”

And Choso Kamo wasn’t one to interrupt his lovely lady. He wasn’t one to cut off the pretty noises you were making before they’d finished ringing in his ears - but now?

Oh, now he’s promptly bludgeoning his clammy head between your heated thighs. Stealing a hypnotized little kiss right on the edge of your puffy clit. Again. And again. And again and again and-

“F-fuck.” He’s gurgling in a hoarse little tone all the way from the back of his throat, a thin line of drool spraying from the upturned corners of Choso’s plump lips because he just couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m gonna m-make you cum, baby- me.”

You’re almost breathless at the way he sounded so desperate that it was pained; dark chestnut brows scrunching together as if in prayer. “R-really?”

It didn’t matter to him what your tch- exes have failed to do before, he neve thought they were good enough for you anyway.

Choso saw a pretty pussy he wanted to kiss over n’ over again and he couldn’t stop.

Pointed peak of his button nose pressing right into the perk of your clit, the scratchy pads of his tastebuds everywhere. Every vibration of Choso’s tremoring your snug outer ring, whimpering. “Yeah. Yeah, want you to cum- need- need you to cum.”

“Seems like you want me to cum more than ngh- I do, Cho–” You’re giggling out, eyes hazy with the curling swashes of his mouth pressing repeated French kisses on your puffed-up pussylips.

“Ngh-” God, he sounded so pretty - whining the very moment you comb your trembly digits through Choso’s velvety strands. Cheeks painted red with a delicate blush, his breath hitches just darting his eyes up to meet your own. Fully heart-eyed. “I do. Need to show m-my best friend what she’s been missing, baby.”

Thumbing apart the gluey fringes of your folds with a squelched pap! You’re feeling his plump tongue swirl out saturated hearts right on the sultry target of your clit - and he’s never looked more like he’s in heaven.

“Gonna f-fuck her now, m’kay–?” Just the thought of filling your snugly winking cunt up with his tongue is enough to have Choso’s hips rutting down on the mattress mindlessly. Groaning.

Needy.

He wanted you so badly - he’s been wanting you so badly for years and years and years - that you’ve barely even started your lazy nodding before he snarls back his teeth to swipe swiftly into your leaky hole. Ragged texture of his tongue swiveling into every ridge and crevice-

“S-so warm–” you hiccup, fingers tangling into Choso’s perspiration-matted hair because he was moving ravenously. Animalistically. Your oh-so-gentle best friend- you couldn’t even control him at this point.

And he couldn’t control himself.

Pinning you down with his powerful upper body, the curve of his sculpted deltoids dig into your rutting mounds of flesh once Choso grinds his chin underneath your treacly slit and roughly shoves your thighs apart. Further n’ further until it burned.

Groaning into the weepy mound of your cunt, his tongue slashes in an urgent in and out that makes your hips jerk- shit, you can’t help but think mindlessly that you wanted this…forever.

“H-hold on–” Choso darts out one hand to guide both of your own - allll the way until you’re steering the soft spheroids of his dishevelled spacebuns. Tightly. “Hold on t’me, baby. Use me- use me.”

He wanted you to use his hair to guide him. Faster.

And doing it so fervently. Folding to your every want and whim when you’re angling your hips into a tempo just the way you like it - Choso’s chin clacking into the base of your pussy, his nose rovering all over your sensitive clit. With squelch after squelch, you swear you feel him stall over that fleshy nub to take a loooong sniff of your cunt-

“Shiiiit- d-didn’t know you were s-so good-” You’re practically shrilling out, ogling the bob of his Adam’s apple after every gulp of your sweet, sweet sap. Your slick overfloods his mouth and puddles right up to his cheekbones. “Where did you even learn this?”

And for perhaps the first time ever in his life, your best friend doesn’t answer you immediately.

He doesn’t do anything but let the bed sing out splintering creaks! when he increases the speed of his motions - until you’re rendered spellbound.

You’re tugging more forcefully on one of his knotted spacebuns and he gives you the sweetest full-bodied whine.

“I i-imagined it.” Comes the shy answer, and a long few inches of two of Choso’s ringed fingers pumping your goopy cavern doubly full. He makes your tummy lurch just by gliding over your pretty g-spot, whispering. “With…you. With you all the time.”

And you don’t know whether it’s that little confession, you don’t know whether it’s the sudden press off of his doughy fingerpads into the sweltering hot bullseye of your g-spot - but something about it makes you cum.

All of a sudden.

“Choso-” Your breath hitches, pushing him ever-deeper between your legs. Spine electrifying with something white-hot, seeing fucking stars. He was right - you were missing out. “Choso.”

And if you were surprised, then Choso was enchanted.

Hips coming down hard to hump against the puffy sheets on the bed - feral. Through the crack in your woozy eyes, you sneak glimpses at the way his dark eyes twinkle, tips of his ears blazing red.

So pretty. The sight was enough to make your hips twitch with more and more sparks of euphoria - yeah, you were really missing out before this.

Long tongue slithering out to gyrate over and over fucking you through your high, your skin beads with blissed-out sweat with every peak he’s trawling out. Brows furrowed, Choso just couldn’t decide between licking his lips for the voluminous ounces of slick clinging onto his skin or fucking his wet muscle back into your wet mess again and again and-

“Fuh-fuck—” You’re hearing from above you, still so numb from your orgasm that it takes you a long few seconds to even realize that Choso had pulled away from his favorite spot making out with your pussy. And was now hovering over you with his red, furious cock clasped in one fist-

Your mouth lacquers with a fresh wave of greedy spit, dryly. “Cho?”

“Fuck fuck fuck m’sorry m’cumming–” He’s spitting hotly, fingers flying furious down the tender edges of his girth. Hunching over until his washboard abs were rippling almost painfully, every inch of skin burned an aroused red. “I can’t stop- I can’t stop, baby—!”

“Give it t’me.” You’re managing out, giggling at the strained whine it makes Choso spill out into the air. “Give it all to me, baby.”

His hulking body jolts like he’s been shocked with a million bolts of lightning at the mere sound of your voice. Gasping, “Don’t- don’t call me that or m’gonna-”

But it’s too late.

He’s not even given the mercy of finishing his sentence before Choso’s frosting your open entrance with such thick globs of cum. Ribbon after ribbon that sprays over your drooling slit in such a viciously syrupy sheen.

“Look- look what you’ve done.” He babbles away, slurring over the very curve of his mushroomed tip down your pussy - and it makes such a mess that Choso just can’t help but imagine how much messier it would be if he plugged you full of his seed from your deepest innards. Coral pink mouth slacking into an oh! at the puddles oozing below you. “Fuck- cumming jus’ from eatin’ ya out- ngh- o-only you, my baby.”

Sloppy.

But what was even sloppier was the way that it takes only two seconds for Choso to sift down till he was back lips-to-lips with your ballooned pussymound. Smiling. Giggling to himself.

You can only watch in awe when he takes a looong lick up your overstimulated slit, purposefully showing off the creamy layers upon layers all over his tongue. So much of it that you can barely see any usual bubblegum pink-

“C-can we kiss, baby–?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Big, big O

“Hm? Have I got ya babbling like a cockdrunk lil’ slut already or what, ma?” Sukuna’s entrapping your cheeks between two fat fingers in an embarrassing little pout. The curled edges of his nails poking your heated skin, and he looks into your heart-eyes deeply. “Because I swear I heard ya say no one else has ever made ya cum.”

“I-it’s true–” you’re stuttering out, barely louder than the sappy squelches ringing from below. Your hips were rutting almost mindlessly into his and he found that so cute.

Well, if he wasn’t fucking irritated right now, that is.

Not at you - no, never at you even though he’ll never ever admit that. More so at those pesky lil’ losers before him that didn’t know how to work your pretty pussy properly.

So instead the king of curses slouches back on his decadent throne room, and if someone was to walk into his court - let them.

He’s leaving a stinging little swat! right at where your pussylips were spewing out the most ribbons of sloppy slick. Tugging your plump folds apart to give a thorough few slides of his dually aching cocks, “Stupid girl. I’ll be fucking damned if I never make my human cum.”

“Wh-wha-” Your eyes are snapping open with a gasp, immediately darting down to where Sukuna’s lengths stood hot and throbbing. He was certainly staggeringly bigger than anyone else you’ve had before…both of him.

“Nuh uh- are you second-guessing your king, girl-” Pointed, you’re rewarded with numerous spanks upon spanks that leave your perked clit stinging. His globular tip cleaning off the geysers of slick leaking out of you, “Now spread those legs n’ take it.”

Hands clawing precariously onto the mountain of his broad shoulders when Sukuna’s meaty thighs start bouncing to inch you down-

Fuck, you can’t help but lean all back and- god, it felt like you were being split apart. Two plummy crownheads mazing past your snug entrance, Sukuna was bullying up into every single sensitive orifice inside you without even trying.

“Gonna do more than make you c-cum, brat- just you fuckin’ wait. ” He’s spitting out into your drunkenly open maw, face twisted into a feral growl. “Just watch, ohhh just you watch.”

So hot inside of you, every wiry string of precum leftover in your gummy walls after each papping ride was scorching - and the only thing hotter was that fat, glutinous brush of something wet. Squelching.

Sukuna’s cushy pecs rumble instantaneously with a thunderous groan, “Mmm tastes as sweet as sh-she looks.”

“Wh-what is–” And you don’t know where to look - Sukuna’s handsome face, where he looked so very fucked, or down where his second monstrous mouth was making out with your overstuffed pussy.

He’s inching back even further on his throne to let the large glistening tongue - almost the size of your face - loll out. Drawing deft little circles on your teary slit, honing down right on the button of your clit. Tasting you. Savoring you. “Oh.”

“Oh? Oh?” Rolling his crimson eyes, “That all you can say? Maybe I really have fucked ya stupid.”

“N-no, I–” But you were - ah, you were.

All it takes is for Sukuna to lurch off of the sticky cushion of the throne with a creaking schwaf! Sultry hipbones smacking into the backs of your thighs, up n’ down. He’s hitting the very back of your dewy cervix with a resounding thud! drawing long, long lines with the sprinkling ends of his cocks.

God- pounding into places you never even knew existed before. Rubbing his puffed-up veins against the grazing area of your tender g-spot. Sukuna was having the time of his life making you break-

“H-heh, yeah right— S’that why you’re all drooling f’me, ma?” A plump palm comes down on your spit-flooded mouth to lather itself in a filthy glaze of saliva, all trickling n’ spilling down the sides of Sukuna’s wrist. “As if the king wouldn’t be able to make this pretty pussy cum- a-as if m’like those useless bastards.”

Speaking more to himself than you at this point. He’s muttering underneath his breath, light coral bows pinching together and concentrating.

Concentrating on striking your bulging magical spots with each second of his ruthless staccato - he wasn’t letting up just because it was your first time about to orgasm from someone else. He wasn’t going to go easy on you- no, you only find yourself growing ever-spellbound with each slip n’ slide of his matchingly rock-hard shafts.

Plap! The curved edge of his tongue swirls around your clit, and you all but sob. “F-faster, Kuna—”

Kuna, huh? He’s finding his brows quirking up - and if there was a faint pinkish blush breezing across his cheeks, well, then he was just glad the increasing pace of his hips is enough to drive you crazy ‘nough not to notice. Growling, “Greedy greedy.”

With two hands latched onto your hips, and another on the crown of your head to push you rudely into each one of his incoming thrusts, you’re being fucked like he had a point to prove.

“H-harder—” Your arms wrap in a wobbly semi-circle looped around his thick neck - and if there was anything that could get you even wetter right now, then it was a firsthand eyeful of your size difference.

“As you wish, ma’am–” Gazing down at his slobbery second tongue below, “Jus’ that way- make her scream.”

Scream you did.

Because Sukuna was monstrous, in both size and the rugged circular brandings he was leaving on your cervix. And the drag of his scratchy tastebuds down your pulsing clit- Oh, you could feel your thighs starting to shake already.

“S’gonna be a big one–” He’s tittering from above, something dangerous glinting in both sets of his cursed eyes. Peering in even closer - until you could count each heady pant of his - something catches Sukuna’s eyes and his breath hitches. “Oho? A reeeeal big one.”

And when he meant big - he meant big.

Because in only a few merciless hits, you’re not just cumming - you’re squirting. In thick, generous heavals of sloshing slick that drip down the sides of his sculptured front. It glazes all the way down to puddle at his throne, it makes such a slobbering mess that you can’t rip your ogling eyes away from it.

Gasping for air, head lolling from side to side at the sheer intensity. The buzzing electricity that sprints down your spine goes on for ages.

“What’d I tell ya? Love when you’re filthy, ma.” Sukuna gives your quivering cunt another spank of good job with the flattened base of his velveteen tongue.

Shit, how his second mouth was enjoying every peak of your orgasm.

Lapping out graciously to catch every fountaining squirt, the entirety of his pinkish muscle coats with a lather of pure gloss. He was drinking you in like he was addicted.

He is.

And you thought that might be it, you didn’t think with all your cottony mind that he would continue edging his tongue to slip right past your mushy hole. Smearing your entrance widely agape until your vision was flashing blissful white, “Do that f’me on my hah- tongue again, ma, n’ I’ll breed ya until you can’t remember your name.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “She jus’ came.”

And that’s what makes you finally pry your gluey eyelids apart, batting tearily up at the filthy, filthy image of Gojo still plastered to your phone.

Pert, bubblegum tongue peeking out when he plugs his puffy pink head between your bawling folds and lets out a drawling sigh— “Fuck- y-you get me so hard, sweetheart.”

It’s almost as if he’s forgotten the yelling from your ex on the other end of the phone already. Forgotten everything but how warm n’ soft you were - you always did have that effect on him.

And it’s with leisurely, drunken motions that the strongest takes a looong few seconds to swab the doughy edges of his pale thumb over your slit. Up n’ down. Making you throb in a rapid ba-dump–! as soon as he smears the scorching hot ounces of sappy slick escaping from you.

Before darting them into his parched mouth with an exaggerated slurp!

There’s another tinny crackle from the call that makes Gojo’s pretty features twist in dark delight-

“T-Toru…” You’re squirming your hips impatiently, giving his pre-glossed, oozing tip treacly peck after peck. You might’ve just cum, but with Gojo your body always wanted more. “‘Nough teasing.”

“Ohhh? What’s that? This c-cute cunt wants me that bad, huh?” He’s snickering out into the speaker, a cute lil’ dimple embedding itself onto the edge of his smirk. “Bet you never had her begging for you like that, huh? Not when you’ve never even made her cum.”

Shit, as if to prove his point, he’s leaving a few generous heaps of sappy precum on your bloated folds.

Streaming out layer after layer that makes Gojo slide in even deeper. That makes him swipe down a few fingers across where you were most puckered and forcing out a saturated squelch. “Heh, that’s the sound of ‘er agreeing with me.”

Gasping, you’re swatting at the bulging curve of Gojo’s bicep - something that only makes his mushroomed tip even more achingly hard.

“Ah ah- hold on, buddy.” Before you know it, you’re feeling the sultry pap! pap! pap! of Gojo’s rounded thumb circling your overwhelmed clit. Sensitive. Buzzing with a few stray dredges of cursed energy, “M’about to do something your loser ass had never even hah- heard of.”

You were so pretty like this - his gorgeous girl. And you only ever deserved the best. So what if he made a show for that bastard ex of yours that just wouldn’t stop blasting your phone with calls?

He was going to make you his star.

“Prettyyyy fuckin’ pussy.” Gojo’s whispering - low, hoarse. Almost to himself when he slips apart your adhesive-like lips to steal a solid eyeful of your perked hood. “You’re missing out real bad, y’know?”

He really, really can’t help the few vibrating sparks bleeding through his thickened digits. Pressing down hard on that buttony tip of your clit, twisting n’ turning in all the right lazy circles, over and over. Just a single ounce of Gojo’s touch is enough to make your tummy lurch heedlessly, to make your thighs shake when he rovers ravenously to your nub-

And pinches.

“Sh-shit.” You’re gurgling out, head bent stupidly backwards into the velvety pillowcase. Hands clawing red all over the supple mountains of his deltoids. And you swear you can count each and every flex- “Toru- Toru, I’m–”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence before Gojo’s narrating it all.

Cerulean eyes glazed over with something…feral, coral pink lips loosening into a stark oh! Ones that Gojo himself has to lick over before he can even begin to rasp, “O-oh? Look at thaaat-”

Your maw slackens with free rivers of saliva that Gojo leans in and licks clean off. Giggling - giggling - once your gooey walls clench around the rock-hard crown of his cock, snug with that fat circumference. “Made her c-cum with jus’ my ngh- tip in her. She had to ngh- fake that all the time with you, didn’t she?”

He was in awe.

You wonder whether he’s even breathing at this point. Thinking.

But it was like Gojo had lost all control of his body - moving yards and yards in front of his melty mind. Because as soon as you can manage to jerk your head off of the perspiration-drenched pillow, he’s moving. Washboard abs tensing deliciously. Rutting.

All hot, plump inches of Gojo’s shaft rub your every tender orifice through and through. He’s pushing and pushing past your weepy pussylips like he never ever wanted to stop. Couldn’t stop.

“Fuck yeah–” You’re startling at the sudden syllables wrenching out of Gojo’s bobbing Adam’s apple, a slow line of sweat starting to trickle down his throat. But he simply flashes you one more sleazy grin, and two more pinches. “Show me wh-where I am, sweetheart- can you do that for Toru?”

“Y-yeah.” You’re whining, and somewhere in the distance sounds a gasp. The unsteady ends of your fingers curve all the way to about halfway up your tummy, pressuring a nudge at the cylindrical globe of Gojo’s crownhead mazing through you. Only halfway still. “Here, all the way u-up in my ngh- womb.

“Good girl–” He’s holding your mushy folds tighter together in a squeeze, so that his veiny cock was smearing even cozier - even louder. Squelch after squelch. Voice hardening, “Hear that? Fuck- fucking lucky you didn’t video call.” Slurring with every rugged thrust, it’s so hot inside you that he feels like he’s melting. Head lolling ever-so-slightly, “M’about to hit her cute g-spot now, but you wouldn’t know h-heh anything about that, right?”

If there was a response then you didn’t hear it. You can’t, because your ears are popping the very next second. Blurry vision tinging with black no matter how much you fluttered your heavy lids-

You think you’re cumming again. Once more. Twice more - so many years and years of missed orgasms crashing into you all at once until all you can do is latch onto Gojo’s muscled back and whine.

And he loved every second. Meaty thighs massaging against yours, your boyfriend pounds you through every peak. Harshly.

Tears bursting from the edges of your hazy eyes, head oh-so-cottony with the sheer burning stretch - it takes you a few seconds to realize.

To realize that he’d finally, finally bottomed out with a stinging plap! of skin-on-skin, brushing a fat glide down that magical spot. And Gojo finds himself shivering, he finds himself hunching over.

SLAM!

Your veins boil greedily at the way you get even wetter once he reaches up to strikes a powerful hand down on his mahogany headboard and splits it in half. Easily. Tensing abs rubbing down your front, “That sound? The s-sound of me about to make her my wife n’ fuck her full of my ngh- kids, asshat.”

Then suddenly your ears resound with that familiar ending tone. And it was just you two.

Eyes darting syrupily upwards, “G-glad he’s never going to c-”

Oh.

You were fucked.

Because Gojo’s eyes were blown wide - crazed. Smiling, and you think he’s never looked more like he was about to rack up a kill list higher than could be counted.

Stray bolts of lightning curl at the ends of his snowy lashes, flickering when Gojo leans down to give the tummy bulge he was fucking into you a slow kiss.

Lips grazing over his outlined puff, your heated skin gets hit with the splat! of something…wet. And it’s only then that you realize that you just made Gojo Satoru so pussydrunken that he was drooling.

“Jus’ you n’ me now, girl.” His chuckles make your most sensitive spots vibrate, and Gojo bucks into you mindlessly. Half-way through, like he couldn’t even bear the thought of pulling out. Could never. “Jus’ say the word n’ you can use the hah- s-strongest like a fuh-fucktoy.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - EMERGENCY, DR.~

“Hm, labia majora and minora are supple and soft.”

“Dr. Higu-” You barely even have the time to catch your breath before you can catch the tail end of your sentence. Voice breaking off into a lecherous whimper the moment the stern man hovering above you swipes a thick thumb over your throbbing clit.

Humming at the glossy rivulet of slick that seeps from between your puffed-up lips, it slathers a thick coating down his digits. “Good lubrication, clitoris is reactive, too. Spread yourself nice and open f’me?”

Before you even have the time to blink, Higuruma’s leaning back mere inches to take a looong, solid look at your splayed-out legs. You’re arching off of the cool examination table like such a slut-

“And above all–” He’s drawling away, and you swear you catch his lips quirk up into a sultry smirk. Dark brows arching, his strawberry pink tongue nips out at the heavenly sight of you. “-she’s pretty.”

This inspection was both such torture and heaven for you.

You’re whining, fists balling up mindlessly in his cottony medical coat - you can’t think. You can’t even say anything other than a few clouded pants of, “I- I need it- I just want to cum, but no one else has ever…”

“Ohhh, s’that so, sugar?” Your bottom lip wobbles like heedless jelly as soon as he caresses the side of your cheek. So close now that your tits heave against his rock-hard pecs, he’s boring into your yes so deeply. Pretty. “Then let Dr. Hiromi here help you.”

It took only mere minutes for Higuruma to have your face bullied down into the chilling plane of the table, a puddle of drool already ever-growing when he swabs his tip sensually down your slit.

“Easy there, easy there- spread your legs f’me.” Just about all you can do to listen to listen to his every word, your capped knees smear until Higuruma was getting a sinful eyeful of your glistening cunt. Already aching and so, so wet. “Atta girl- so needy…so, so needy.”

You’re flinching - full-bodied and gasping - the second he strikes your slick-flooding entrance with three exact wads of messy spit. Rolling the wadded mess over your bloated clit, “Pubovaginalis is tight- reeeeal tight, heh. Wonder if I’d even fit, angel–?”

Veering your head back to catch sight of his painfully hard cock, your eyes travel down his veiny length - the way it seems never-endless. Massive.

And suddenly you can’t help but let your mouth water at the way you want him inside you oh-so-badly.

“Oh?” Higuruma’s deep bass sends shivers running down your spine, and you can’t believe how you’re so positively soaked and he hasn’t even put it in yet. “Lubrication increased significantly- s’this turn you on, sugar?”

“Yes- yes.” You can’t even lie- fuck, you can’t even stop yourself from pushing your hips back in repeated ruts that graze Higuruma’s slender, expert fingers against where your core was the hottest.

Needy.

Cooing down at you, “Awww, s’alright—” The very sounds sends your heart racing, and your thighs shivering once he measures out a looong few inches from the very base of your treacly entrance to about halfway down your tummy. “S’gonna fit- m’gonna make it.”

Your jaw loosens as if you were stunned, “W-were you measuring out just how deep you’d be inside me- ”

“Of course, angel.” Dark tone much too smooth for the way that Higuruma was swashing aside his formal white coat to make room. “The muscularis will feel better ah- raw…” You needed him. To barely crown your drooling hole with the very rotund fringe of his fat tip, pushing. “Count now. Count every inch m’inside you.”

And a sudden dab into a bundle of nerves in your weepy orifice told you that he was serious. “C’mon- with me now. Oooone–‘

Your voice shaking as you whimper, “O-one…two.”

“Good girl.” Comes the response, and of course Higuruma was a good doctor. Of course he was rewarding you with a pinch to the hood of your nub, “Keep counting. Three–”

Drawing little patterns of his name right where you were most sensitive, he was poking his swollen veins saccharinely into every nook and cranny inside of you. Scouring.

It just makes you melt.

“Four- six?” The disbelief just kept piling on, and with a low moan into the hard surface of the table you’re bucking. Eager to find out for yourself just how many inches he was hiding away, grinding the plump of your clit over into his palm - all slathered in an oozing layer of slick now. “Sev- eight…eight!”

You swear you hear Higuruma snickering, “Close, but…” Right before he sucks in a sharply condensed breath and ruts- “-it’s nine.”

Bottoming out - finally. Until your spongy cervix recoils back with the sticky French snog of his readily puckered head, until your clit stings with the impact of his buxom balls thwacking!

And when Higuruma strikes, he hits. Dead-on into the bulging target of your g-spot, he’s laying on long n’ girthy inches that take up every square centimeter of space inside your snug pussy. Stretching out your glutinous walls to his exact shape until you almost feel like sobbing- “Hiromi–”

“Rhythmic muscularis contraction, body heart, heart rate increase- There we go, thereeee we f-fuckin’ go-”

Did you just make Higuruma Hiromi stutter? You don’t know what you’re reeling from more - that, or the fact that you didn’t know who was cumming first. You feel him shiver above you, “You’re cumming, angel– congratulations.”

Were you? Fuck- you were, riding your hips back into his swollen inches to drag out the burning stars bursting behind your heavy lids.

And Higuruma was just collapsing right down with you, his muscular body pinning you helplessly. Washboards abs practically melding into you and making your orgasm only increase with intensity.

Your mouth wrenches open with breathless whimpers upon whimpers and drivel, ones that Higuruma plugs up easily with just a few fingers over your maw. Tutting, “Hydration is important, sugar- though, you’re already like fuckin’ waterpark d-down hah- there.”

Not just with your own sugary juices - but Higuruma had cum, too.

Sloshing around a warm river of cum that knocks on your womb, it was so thick frosting your hole and way down into your thighs below. Streaming out until you felt like you were bawling from below, feeling the weight of his seed stick to your walls all filthily.

But Higuruma doesn’t mind the mess - he fucking loves it. Loves how it paints glistening rings on his bulky base, loves the way your cunt twitches once he scoops the escaping ribbons back in with two fingers. “Now for a full body check-up, sugar.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

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tsukuhoe · 5 days ago

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hihiii there will not be an update for short n sweet til the start of april TT i’ve been incredibly busy lately and i have not gotten the chance to start the next written chapter! next week will be especially busy for me as well 💔 i’m so sorry!

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tsukuhoe · 5 days ago

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MDNI

Pt 1 here

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader Content: no use of y/n, SOME plot, read pt 1 for context, BREEDING KINK, PREGNANCY and BABY TRAPPING, unestablished relationship, reader has an iud that Gojo is NOT a fan of, manipulating, reader is a lil dumb lol, talk of birth control and hiding it, creampies 24/7, mentions of NURSING and BRESTFEEDING, 'wife' used like twice Word count: 3.3k

(a.n) I kept getting asked for pt 2 so here it is. more plot, not so much smut this time lol

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It had been 3 months since Gojo came to the conclusion that pregnancy was the solution to his fear of you finding someone else. Seeing you come out of the bathroom, a bath towel wrapped around you as small droplets fell from your neck.

Looking at you bewildered as though this was the greatest disappointment he had ever felt. You were talking about something- something irrelevant to the issue at hand.

Why you weren't swelling with his child right now. Why you were denying him- the world of the next generation of Gojo babies.

And it’s not like he could keep letting out those little ‘get pregnant’ comments while he fucked you, often contemplating asking you to gag him so they wouldn’t slip. You had your suspicions, not outwardly saying it but if one more little comment fell from him you'd be forced to ask.

Satoru was sure that your medical state wasn't an issue, he carefully combed through your medical records to find any sort of reason as to why you weren't pregnant. One appointment 3 years ago for an iud insertion, and one appointment to get it removed a few weeks after you met him.

And it's not like he was the issue here, he made sure he was fine in that aspect. Gojo was sure he was fine- and you had no issues with getting pregnant.

So, the solution to his fear needed a solution too. No problem, this just meant he had to fuck you even more now. More often, and even move you into his apartment. Permanently.

He was hung up in his own little world as his eyes burned holes through your damp skin. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Gojo quickly fixed his face as he looked at you with a smile, “M’just thinking about havin you move into my place.” He hummed, folding his arms to rest beneath his head. Eyes following your expression as you waited for him to continue, “You're already here all the time~” he hummed, you raised your eyebrows in defense.

“That's because you can't keep your hands off of me for longer than an hour.” you laughed as he pursed his lips, feeling like he was being scolded in that moment. Knowing you meant it as a joke- but it was true.

No matter how many showers- how many breaks. Satoru was always ready to go again, and again, and again. Praying that this time will be the one. Gojo daydreamed of coming home to you, breasts swelled with milk to welcome his child into the world.

Glow on your skin and tummy growing his child. Twins, he'd fantasize. “We should just get married while we're at it.” he’d joke, knowing if he kept bringing it up, you'd cave. Knowing you weren't the kind of person to co-parent.

But those daydreams were always cut short. Whenever he'd message you saying he wanted to see you, only for you to tell him you were on your period.

We all know that never stopped him, but the disappointment knowing his attempts were in vain, always made him try even harder next time.

And yes you did question his constant need to fuck you, at times fully skipping prep and pushing into you- knowing you didn’t really need it since you had cleaned yourself up from the last round not to long ago.

How he'd bite his tongue whenever you'd ask him to cum inside. And I mean lets be real, when has Gojo ever bit his tongue during sex?

All but telling you to ‘shut up’ when you’d whisper in his ear, “Fill me up-” knowing if you didn't, he'd start babbling words that had been boxed up at the back of i his mind.

That one time Gojo let them slip, the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock greedily, the words pushed themselves past his lips forcefully.

“Get pregnant” he demanded of you, only you didn't listen. You found it an odd thing to say- sure. But knowing him, he’s said worse things in the heat of the moment.

You always chalked up Satoru’s babbles before he came as meaningless words, knowing you shouldn't hold him to the promises and threats he'd make before he came.

Gojo’s made empty proposals into your ears before, “S-so good, m-” he hesitated, a low whine leaving his lips by just thinking about what he was about to say, “-marry me hm?~” he’d whisper as he overstimulated your senses.

Making sure you kept your eyes open to look at him, taking in the desperate sight of his forming ‘o’ face. Ears being fully invaded by the vulgar squelching from his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, and his unforgiving whines and moans.

Both of your hands gripping tightly on his back, knowing you'd leave raised marks on his skin. So caught up in your own orgasm you'd say ‘yes’ to any of his questions right now.

And there was nothing Satoru liked more than asking you questions when you were close to cumming, fully taking advantage of you not being able to think straight.

Even if you had just gotten out of the shower, freshly cleaned from the last round. He'd still toss that useless towel off of you and go again, making sure to keep you on the edge- not fully giving in to your pleads and you urging him to hurry up.

Relishing in the idea that round after round, unable to count just how many times he's cum inside of you that weekend- you're still up for more.

“You wanna go get tested together?” he asked you randomly one morning, making you look at him with furrowed eyes.

“Do I have to get tested?” you asked, unknowing that he had other sexual partners. Satoru let out a small laugh at your accusatory tone.

“No.” he smiled playfully, “I just thought it would be fun.” He hummed. And as he requested, you and him ended up in a clinic. Getting tested for any diseases or any issues.

And Gojo insisted he stay in the room as the nurse asked you the embarrassing questions. Sitting on the uncomfortable exam table, fiddling with your thumbs and thinking of how stupid it was to do this after months of having unprotected sex.

Looking over at Satoru and seeing a smile on his lips as you heard the paper wrinkle below you.

“Are you sexually active?” the overworked nurse flashed her eyes to you above the clipboard. You sighed, “Yes.” Looking over at his smug smile.

“What kind? Oral, vaginal, anal?” she asked, looking at you. This would've been fine if it was just you and the nurse, but having Gojo in the room with you made this even more humiliating.

“Uh-” you hesitated, eyes flashing to Satoru and back to the nurse. “...All?” you hesitated, shrinking in your seat when you heard her check three boxes with the pen in her hand.

“How many people have you had sex with in the past six months?” she asked nonchalantly, obviously having bigger issues in the world than what was happening in this room right now.

“One.” you answered, making Gojo’s chest swell with pride, knowing you were being faithful- even if there wasn't a label on what he was to you.

“In the last 12 months?” the nurse asked, you sighed, looking over at his smug face. “One.” your tone was a little more stern, knowing if you had said anything else this would've ended in a very different way.

“Are you or your partner trying to get pregnant?” the nurse flashed her eyes to Gojo, seeing him mouth a quiet ‘yes’

“No.” you answered, making the nurse look back at you and check no on the clipboard.

“Are you or your partner using contraceptives or birth control?” the nurse exhaled, your hands between your knees, ‘no’ Satoru answered the question mentally.

“Yes.” you answered honestly, making him furrow his eyebrows and snap his eyes to you. You looked at him, turning your head as though you were asking him ‘what?’

“What kind?” the nurse asked, looking at you directly.

“I've had an iud for 3 years.” you looked back at her, hearing her write down on the paper. Satoru’s mind started remembering the online records he read, he was so sure he saw an appointment for a removal on them.

“Any plans on removal, or renewing?” she asked, side eyeing Gojo who muttered a quiet ‘yes’

“No.” you scoffed, looking at the nurse thinking he was just trying to be funny, “I had an appointment for removal- but I didn't go.” you admitted, looking over at Gojo who was suddenly sitting very stiff.

“Okay-” the nurse started, clipping the pen into her pocket and taking a step back towards the door- “The doctor will be in soon.” The nurse gave a fake smile before stepping out of the small examination room.

A soul killing silence was in the room, mentally Gojo was scolding you for not telling him.

“Why didn't you get ‘it’ removed?” referring to the pesky little thing inside of you, you furrowed your eyebrows.

You tried remembering why you didnt go, “Hmm,” you pondered, looking at him, seeing an opportunity to lighten the heavy tension in the room. “I met you and somehow I knew I'd need it.” you joked, making him let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Besides, you didn't really think I was letting you finish inside of me without birth control…Right?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

That's exactly what Gojo thought, he thought that you loved him enough to not care about the repercussions that followed his addiction of cumming inside of you.

Satoru was silent, “Right?” you asked again, throwing him from his train of thought.

He stuttered, “I-I just don't remember you mentioning it.” he gave you a half smile, already plotting how he'd convince you to remove it.

“You never asked.” you scoffed, dangling your feet from the examining table, with a smile you looked at him. “And it's a good thing-” you huffed, “If I didn't have it- your apartment would be crawling with a bunch of Gojo toddlers.” You joked with a laugh.

The thought made his heart crack, picturing all of the wasted cum he's pumped into you. His pouting lip for the rest of the appointment worried you, not hearing anymore dumb comments or seeing him smile anymore. In your mind, you thought that maybe he didn't like that you hid this from him.

That to his sensitive feelings, this was a sort of betrayal. To Satoru this was just another hurdle he'd have to jump over to achieve his goal.

On the drive back to his place you held onto the negative tests from both of you. Gojo was thinking of all the ways he'd be able to convince you to remove it, even thinking about including Mei in his plans. Knowing if the words came from another woman, you'd hear them more clearly than if they came from him.

All it would take was a few bucks and she’d play along with his plans, yeah. That's a good idea.

He wanted to call Mei right there as he was driving, urging her to call you and tell you how bad iud’s were for your health. But he knew this idea would have to be nursed in your mind with time. ‘1? No, 2 months is more than enough time.’

Eventually you were convinced that iud’s were the devil, with Mei telling you horror stories about them in one ear, and ads on your phone showing birth control pills as an alternative from how much you were speaking about this.

You knew that Satoru wouldn't go back to using condoms, the conversation of asking him to use them would be futile.

So you got it removed, with Gojo telling you that it's for the best. “That poor little thing was probably working overtime heh~” he’d whisper into your ear. Taking one pill a day was tedious, but you did it for your own health.

Even if Satoru joked that- “You don't even need any birth control~” you still took it. Everyday for the first month.

Of course, Gojo was elated at his success. Knowing that the small pack of pills were easier to hide than something that was inside of you.

And with staying at his place more often than not- leaving the pack of pills in your bag became an unsecure hiding place. Oftentimes finding the pack in odd places that you certainly did not put them. When you wouldn't be able to find them, you'd ask him if he's seen them. Making him nod his head ‘no’ with a content smile.

Ultimately leading you to miss one or two days of taking the pill. And that led you to forgetting if you had taken a pill that day or not, but checking the pack, and seeing there was one missing from that day, you knew you did. Unknowing that Satoru was punching out the small pill and tossing it, knowing how forgetful you were at times.

The hopes of you being forgetful weren't the only thing he was counting on. Satoru made sure to keep a steady routine of intercourse after any activity.

Breakfast? He'd push you against the counter and kiss you- humming into your mouth before pulling away. “You taste like syrup-” he whispered against you. Making you let out a small giggle before connecting your lips to his once more.

Not caring if the half eaten pancakes would go cold, Satoru would gladly empty himself into you over and over again on the same counter he was just making breakfast on.

Morning, noon, and night he filled you up. And it's not like you had any second thoughts, besides it's like Satoru justified it.

“It just takes a little bit of water nd soap and you're clean again.” whenever you told him you didn't want to make a mess. Saying that sheets can be cleaned whenever he’d dirty them.

“Mops exist.” he’d defend whenever his seed would spill out of you and land on the floor.

If he was being honest, just knowing his cum was being spilled made his soul cry. So he found a solution to this problem. Cockwarming. It was perfect in his mind, being able to stay inside of you till he was sure his load had more than enough time to impregnate you. Now having a fondness for keeping you plugged up afterwards.

Not letting you clean up by saying, “Let's just stay like this.” he’d hum in your ear, holding you close as he pretended to go to sleep. And knowing how stubborn he was- like a perfect future wife, you'd let him.

As much as he liked to take all the credit, fate finally granted him his wish. And it was as he pictured it.

Satoru noticed a shimmering glow on your cheekbones long before you did, he felt the difference in the way your breasts filled his hands.

The way you'd cover your nose whenever you smelled something he didn't notice. The random mornings you wake up and run straight to the bathroom.

The mere image of you potentially being pregnant made Gojo want to pull you under him again. He would never admit it to you- but the idea of your breasts full of milk, so full that they'd leak- it drove him mad.

His mouth would suddenly feel very empty and dry anytime he thought of it. Trailing thoughts as he heard you speak, wondering if you'd ever let him taste it- ‘just to taste’ he’d think. Knowing damn well he'd keep asking for a taste over and over again.

Satoru was so sure he could convince you to let him nurse on your breast. Picturing you complaining on how full they felt- how painful it would be. Only for him to happily offer his assistance, “I just want to help,” he'd tell you.

And you being the perfect wife you are, you'd let him. Satoru relished the thought that you'd grant any of his wishes, no matter how filthy they were. Even thinking about it had him reeling for a taste- leading him to aimlessly suck on your breast harshly.

Wishing for something to come out prematurely, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you cradled his face in your lap, your other hand stroking his cock softly as you unknowingly played into his fantasies.

On one weekend that Gojo was out of town, you picked up a test. Fearing the small changes happening in your own body. Placing the small stick on the bathroom counter, hands held together almost in prayer, ‘pleasepleaseplease.’ you muttered to yourself.

Over consuming anxiety flooding your mind as you saw the blinking halt- ‘Pregnant’ the test read. You exhaled sharply, closing your eyes and feeling the world come crashing down on your shoulders.

Unbeknownst to Satoru, you thought this would be the last straw. Thinking he couldn't busy himself with a child, let alone have a child out of wedlock- not even in a relationship.

Not even sure about your own place in this world, now considering bringing a child into it. You thought up every single horrible scenario that could happen if you presented him with the stick. Not even recalling all the sweet words he'd tell you.

The ‘ I love you’s ‘ that came straight from his heart when he'd fuck you. All the joking futures he’d picture with you.

Somehow you saw him as every cruel man you met before him. Doubts of ‘if I was enough, he wouldn't just be a situationship.’ unfolding in your mind as you blame yourself for this accident.

You inhaled, remembering to not overthink. To not assume till you spoke to him. So you waited. You waited in his place, on his couch. The white and blue stick wrapped in a napkin as you clutched it in your pocket. Waiting for him to unlock the door and step through at any moment.

You snapped your head to the moving doorknob, seeing him bust through the doorway with a happy smile. Seeing you as he pictured you all those times. Tear stained cheeks, shaky hands and pouting lips. Hurrying to you asking ‘whats wrong?’

“Sit.” you croaked, closing your eyes with a sigh as you felt him sit next to you. Pulling out your hand from your pocket, unwrapping the napkin and placing the stick on the table.

“I'm pregnant.” you whimpered, eyes tearing up as you saw his face go unchanged. The corner of his lips threatening to curl into a smile. “What do I do ‘toru? Tell me what to do.” a hot tear fell from your eye, fearing that he’d toss you aside with a few hundred dollars to take care of it.

“Why’re you cryin?” he hummed, wrapping an arm around you. You let out a struggling breath.

“I just-” you inhaled, “I'm so scared.” you cried, pressing your face to his chest.

“Scared of what?” he scoffed, trying to sound sincere, fighting off the sinister smile that crept onto his face. Proud eyes staring directly to the blue and white plastic stick.

You pulled away from him, not being able to find the words to form the sentences. Satoru took your hands in his, looking into your eyes with all the feigned sincerity he could muster.

“I will take care of you.” he started, caressing his thumb over your knuckles as you sniffled. Taking a hand from yours and pressing it to your tummy, “Both of you.” he said with a smile, making you halt your tears and look at him bewildered.

Not knowing why he looked so excited right now, why he looked… accomplished? Seeing that glimmer in his eye he only got when he triumphed.

.... I don't know what to say. im sowy this doesn't have as much smut. yes this is a Segway to me one day writing a lactation kink post, im just testing the waters hehe

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tsukuhoe · 5 days ago

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guys no hate to op but i feel like this post is kind of a wilful/bad faith misinterpretation of writer's works. and its pretty representative of what most fandoms are like nowadays 😭

like in the grand scheme of things, this is very much a non-issue but people will always write with the context of their own surroundings/background (like i, as an australian, could write using phrases that might sound out of place to others)

like this is FANFICTION (fiction written by...you guessed it! fans. fans from all over the world who will use their own experiences/lives/linguistics to translate that into stories)

second of all, 'yer' and 'fer me' and as others in the notes protest, such words aren't meant to be swinging characters into the wild west with cowboy hates, they're often used as ways to imitate the sound of someone slurring their words (as you would expect in a sex scene) so readers can differentiate it between character's tones 😭

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tsukuhoe · 5 days ago

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bounce back ── gojo satoru (m).

pairing ⋆ basketball player!gojo satoru & journalist!reader.

professional athletes have the tendency of being cocky over their talents, gojo satoru is the most notorious for it. you decide to knock him down a peg.

genre & word count ⋆ angst & smut | 11.5k words.

fic tags & warnings ⋆ fem-bodied!reader (they/she), basketball!au, rivals to ???, gojo is a conceited asshole, petty bantering, social media elements, near-death experience/accidental attempted murder, one (1) face slap, unprotected sex, pull out method, hate(-ish) sex, sub!gojo & dom!reader, fingering, one (1) pussy slap, squirting, slight degredation, crying, etc.

sticky notes ⋆ this ended up so much longer than i anticipated, but i will slobber all over your cocks if you read. it's good for the brain, give it some stimulation.

Sweat beading off his head, he drowns out the noise of everyone around him. Sapphire eyes fixate on the hoop that towers across the court as he dribbles the ball, sprinting towards another win. On the score post, fifteen seconds are flashing on the clock as the points are nearly neck and neck. Tokyo versus Kyoto, 34 and 32. With just enough time on the clock, Gojo can give his team a few more points to lengthen the gap.

And when he’s determined, he gets a look in his eyes, where his dazzling blue seems to only shine more, the light beaming inside of his pupils as his white eyebrows course into a frown. He blocks out the entire world— the audience, the buzzers, the screeching of shoes against the wooden ground, the opposing team and his own team— just for his own ambitions. He moves untouched, something like a sixth sense telling him when and where to go as the sounds of his dribbles only get louder. His force caused the ball to hit the ground harder and harder.

Gojo Satoru held such a high power in the world of basketball, a force to be reckoned with, and seemingly going untouchable. When in this state of mind, it told everyone to back off as he made himself into a brick wall, hogging the ball for himself and forcing his opponents to create a path towards the basketball hoop. Those who dared to approach him in such a state risked injuries that the referee couldn’t save them from, they’ve learned their lesson nth many times. So, instead of approaching the beast head on, they waited for possible failure.

Ten seconds on the clock. Like tradition, the crowd began to count down. Their voices were so loud that passersby could hear their chanting as they stomped on the bleachers. They got louder with every descending number. Ten . . . Nine . . . Eight . . .

The ball was now in the air, flying right inside of the hoop before the crowd could cry out “Seven!” His pink lips contorted to a smirk as the opposing team reached for the ball and ran in the opposite direction in hopes to make a comeback with the little time remaining. However, it was no use. It seemed as though time had quickened in favor of Gojo. FourThreeTwo… The obnoxious blaring of the alarm sounding and the game is over.

Gojo’s chest comes to a steady rise and fall, but he’s not exhausted as much as the other men are. No, he still feels enough energy to keep on going. Turning his back to the court, he goes to the bench as his coach gives him a curt nod. “Excellent job, as always.”

The only man viable for his respect, Gojo bows his head in acknowledgement as the older man throws him his water bottle. Catching it with ease, he throws his head back as he squeezes the content in his mouth. His skin glistening from the sweat as flashes hurdle his way, a crowd starting to form around him. The camera shutters seem to get more silent when they surround him, capturing Gojo’s figure, his black jersey hanging outside of his baggy shorts, an inch past the elastic hem. No undershirt underneath it as his muscle and bicep seem more prominent tonight. Leaning his weight on one leg, the cameras perfectly capture the vein on his right calf. On his knees, mismatched knee sleeves. One black and another a deep and dark red to match the accent colors in his team uniform. And his shoes, blue— his signature color.

The professional athlete is expecting the typical post-game questions— How do you feel after another win? What’s your secret for staying on top for this long? Do you ever believe that you’re going to fall back down to the bottom? He has all the typical answers, short cut and dry as he keeps that habitual smirk that he’s gained so much compliments for. Beauty and brawns— a multifaceted man, he calls himself, as well as the press.

However, the questions he anticipates are replaced with different ones, catching him off guard.

“Gojo,” a female reporter calls out, auburn hair stopping mid back. “What do you think about the things said about you by the Career-Ender?”

“Yeah!” An older man shouts out, a buzz-cut with patchy spots. “They say that in a matter of a year or so, your basketball career is bound to fall apart. What do you have to say about that?”

“Is it true that you pushed them out the way after they were just asking for help?” Accusations being thrown at him left and right, questions that he didn’t have the immediate answers to. He was being thrown into a whirlwind that he didn’t have sly remarks to make. Furrowing his eyebrows, he shook his head as he had to think of something quick and make his way towards the locker room. A light bulb flashes in his mind, remembering the name the first reporter stated.

“Career-Ender?” he scoffs. “If anything, I’ll be the one making sure they don’t have a job after this—” he chuckles as the mics are shoved in his direction. Propping his hands on his hips, he takes a breath to collect his thoughts. “— Listen, all those presumptions in that article were false. We’ve seen it time and time again, people with no time in their lives fabricating stories in hopes to tarnish successful people’s careers. This is one of those times. I suggest that the Career-Ender find another line of business to work in and possibly some therapy to help seal whatever hole is inside their heart. My team and I just garnered another win under our belt, let’s talk about that instead.”

Gojo never had any intentions of looking into what the paparazzi was referring to. He chalked it all up to this new day and age of performative activism through the use of cancel culture. How social media liked to heighten situations that at the end of the day, will all end up being nothing. He did what he did best, at first, ignoring the comments and snide remarks he started getting early on.

However, people started coming out with stories and recalling negative encounters that they had with the basketball player. Each story detailing his nasty personality and actions that started alarming his manager, Higuruma Hiromi, and PR Team, requesting him to meet them to talk about the potential results that could happen. Gojo made sure to hire a team that could tackle anything, that could keep him out of situations like this. So, part of him was shocked that Higuruma actually wanted to call a meeting over this… this— this petty deal.

Calls and buzzing of his phone become exhausting that curiosity eats him and he’s clicking on the link that started this all.

─────

GOJO SATORU, MOST TALENTED BASKETBALL PLAYER OF THIS GENERATION, SOON TO SUCCUMB TO HIS ATTITUDE AND BAD BEHAVIOR

By Your Name | March __, 2025 | 12:00 PM

Gojo Satoru, a twenty-nine year old basketball player, has certainly made a name for himself in the past ten years. From his outstanding athletic performance as a college freshman attending Tokyo University to being drafted to the basketball team, Tokyo Jujutsu, he’s certainly proved time and time again that he’s the next biggest thing. No one can lie about his achievements and the potential that he holds and has yet to unlock. He has so much potential within himself, yet… I can only see it coming into a downward spiral. Why? All because of that nasty attitude of his.

On countless of times and occasions, the popular and professional athlete has shown his true colors on camera. Earlier in his career, plenty of reporters and spectators had believed his conceited personality would call for an early retirement, but by some greater God, here Gojo Satoru still stands on his mighty horse, thinking he can continue going on his selfish rampage and continue to reap the benefits that society has offered him with open arms. And I have come to ask when will we stop turning a blind eye to the ruthless and abhorrent behavior that men continue to display? When will we stop excusing their disgusting acts because of the power that they hold and do what needs to be done— nip their career right in the bud.

Read More . . .

─────

Gojo scoffs by the end of it all. Pages upon pages of what seems to be a butthurt journalist who didn't get the attention they were hoping for. Why were a few negative encounters causing such an uproar? However, in the tabs linking to “Articles Like This” list a row of newsletters all revolving around Gojo and his apparent “Worst Moments.” Ultimately falling into a rabbit hole of reading people's opinions about him and watching videos relaying just how much of a nasty and unlikeable person he is.

For the first time in years, he feels his stomach tighten at what’s being said about him. How people have found him so appalling and their alleged experiences about him, he can’t recall any of those said events. However, he usually has the habit of forgetting things that don’t matter to him. It’s the reason why his days seem to be blurred and conjuncted together. However, that quick second of his heart being ripped to shreds dissipates as he tells himself not to care about. In a few months time, he’ll win for his team and once again, be the apple of the people’s eyes.

But, for the time being, your name rings aloud in his mind. Something, no— someone— worth remembering.

─────

Gojo can’t remember the last time he has ever been nervous for a game. Honing in his skills and talent, he feels like he’s near perfected becoming the best basketball player this generation has ever seen. However, in the locker room as his teammates pile out in a jumbled line, his feet tap against the tiled floor as he tries his best not to reveal his nerves. Across his social media accounts, the numbers and views are dwindling down as people keep to their promise of cutting ties to their now ex-favorite basketball player. Articles upon articles revealing things that he’s done.

On top of that, Higuruma and his PR Team truthfully believed that he needed to take a break and step outside of the limelight for a while. They said that they needed him to reflect on his character and consider partaking in selfless acts to start painting a better picture for himself. It further struck a nerve because they didn’t need to outright say it. They believed the articles and the stories being reported about him. They, too, believe that he isn’t a good person. And in a matter of seconds, those nerves turn into rage and the hand towel that he’s been holding onto is being thrown across the room. White eyebrows knitting together in anger and cerulean eyes darkening, his footsteps sound through the small area before heading towards the stands and the courts, where people were still cheering for him and calling out his name. Not some bitch that people dubbed the Career-Ender.

Gojo didn’t partake in his team’s pre-game ritual, didn’t join in for their prayers and chants. No, he stood on the sidelines and waited for the referee to announce the start of the game. People saw it in his eyes— that look. He was all in for this game. He had something to prove in this game.

So, when the ball was in the air, he didn’t give the referee much time to take a step back, jumping up to heights that his opponent couldn’t even fathom touching as Gojo sent the ball hurdling straight to the ground with a loud bounce that called for silence inside the arena. Gasps echoed as everything fell silent, eyes glued onto the tall figure, the beast that is, Gojo Satoru.

Starting off strong from the jump, everyone can feel the hunger and presence of him. The first half of the game, he's a dominant force, scoring majority, if not all, the points and leading such a seering start that people believe the opposing team could never catch up to. When halftime is called, he casts an invisible force field around himself that people wouldn't dare to intrude on. However, his coach had never been just people. The man had wedged his way deep inside the young boy, being the father figure that he never had and always needed.

“Son…” the superior sighs, meeting Gojo in his eyes. “I understand that things have been rough for you lately. The things that people are saying about you are enough to rile anyone up, but you have nothing to prove. You've already done that by making it this far. Now, Satoru, you need to take a breather. I'm going to bench you until you get yourself under control.”

“No!” Gojo shouts, pushing the man he had always admired, using more force than intended. It all happens in slow motion, Gojo sending his coach to the ground and everyone watching. Eyes widening as people come to crowd him, but the coach shakes his head, bringing himself to stand up, with a limp, however. He catches his breath before sending Gojo a stern and hardened limp.

“You can get back on the court,” he sighs. “But you better get your shit together before you fall right into their hands.”

And the coach doesn't need to elaborate for Gojo to know exactly who he's talking about─ you. For once, Gojo feels a sense of normalcy running back into him. His body relaxes, but that heat still runs in his body. Instead of using your name as a crutch, haunting him, it now fuels his fire.

When the timer runs out and players are being switched in and out, Gojo goes to his position. Ball thrown in the air, again, he sends it searing back to the ground and his team’s possession. That same hunger and fire running through him as he dashes across the court and leading his team to victory. A one-man show, overworking his body over the years, he does it without question. Unknowingly, his body is deteriorating at this moment.

He's moving slower and that barrier he's built is slowly falling apart. His opponents are catching up to him, and for a first, he notices them. They're meeting his steps with ease, gaining up on him and threatening to overpower him. It only hardens Gojo as he’s determined to hold himself together. Intaking a harsh breath, he dribbles faster and forces himself forward.

In no time, the fifteen second mark is trusted upon everyone. Tokyo led with 75 points and the opposition with 15. The gap is large, but not large enough. One, no! Two more shots! he thinks to himself. I can do it!

Within the first five seconds, he's able to make another three pointer. However, his head becomes too big when he aims to get his team to 80. He's never felt the same exhaustion that his team has, building so much endurance, that despite sweat beading his forehead, he always felt that he had the energy for more.

But, his vision is getting dark and grainy. His calves are stiff and he feels like if he took one more step, he's going to fall. With every trial he's faced in his life, he was always able to power through, but when will he realize that this isn't a trial nor is it an obstacle that the universe has thrown at him. It's a warning that he's choosing to ignore.

The crowd is counting down and Gojo was never one to disappoint. Already halfway across the court, he aims for another three-pointer when an opponent obstructs his path, colliding into him and making the taller individual lose his footing. A twist, so subtle but not much longer when Gojo lets out a strangled cry and a loud thud sends the crowd silent after their sudden intake of breath. Medics coming out to remove him from the court, the entire arena watches in horror while the athlete watches them in pain and trepidation. With so much running inside his mind, one thing stands prominent. You, your name tied down to that damn article.

This entire time he had been trying not to let your words eat him alive, but he's afraid that he's fallen right into your trap. He's afraid that this entire time, you had been right.

He was the reason for his own undoing.

─────

You don’t think you intended for the nickname, Career-Ender, to ever be bestowed upon you. You don’t think you ever intended to be the type of journalist that people feared or felt intimidated by. You wanted an image that truly reflected who you were. You wanted people to see— to read— how passionate you were about sports and to read the love you invoke in your words. However, one drunken night led to another, where you poured your heart out into venting out your feelings about a baseball player and how distraught over your first encounter with him on social media that one thing turned into another and people took it upon themselves to put the man on the sidelines.

You truly didn’t mean for your reputation to be someone who took pleasure into ending talented people’s careers, but after that first instance, where people shared their negative experiences with the professional baseball player to the point he was put on trial for domestic violence accusations, you found power in your drunken rage.

Earning a significant following and continuing to write the articles that you intentionally sought to publish, you garnered the title of a well-endowed journalist as people started to see your potential. Your boss, while first enraged with your actions, had opened up the doors to more opportunities and endeavors for you, seeing how people saw you as the pinnacle of sports. People trusted your word when you said a young athlete had the potential to make it big; people trusted you when you called into question the attire for female volleyball players; but, most of all, they trusted your word when you didn’t like an athlete.

You didn’t put your notorious nickname into action often. Truthfully, the title was thrusted upon you the moment your drunken rant had disproportionately blown up, and you’ve never written another article showing distaste for another athlete again. There were a bunch of rude and cocky athletes. If you nitpicked at every little thing, it would question your credibility.

However, you had purpose in your critiques. A fluster of emotions sitting on your chest about it, you had every intention of posting it when you did. Though you didn’t take pride in the nickname that people coined you for, it has its perks as it calls for people’s attention.

With your admiration and love for basketball, you oftentime spent time and energy in keeping up in the scene. Attending basketball games and when you couldn’t be at every one of them, you had them saved up on any device that you had on you. Your eyes beamed watching the athletes play at their best (or their worst), it sent blood pumping down your spine as everything was happening before your eyes. However, you hate the fact that you have to say that all of your most prominent negative run-ins were from the Tokyo team. Moreso specifically, from Gojo Satoru.

You chalked up the first one to exhaustion and running on short time; you considered the rather harsh shove to be an accident— the bad press ruining it for the few good eggs out there; and you tried to excuse each and every moment for something that it wasn’t. However, you couldn’t excuse what he said. “How does it feel to know that you’re writing for a sports column because your life could never amount up to mine?”

It took that comment to make you realize that he was just a horrible human being, a self-proclaimed prodigy despite never showing any true potential until his late teens. It took you a while to realize that the man just had too much of an ego on him. You figured that at some point in time that people would come to that revelation that while he had the talent, his nastiness would unravel in his own career. He just needed a push.

(And you needed something groundbreaking.)

However, you didn’t expect your nudge would lead him to an embarrassing fall as news articles come out revealing how much he’s been overworking himself. You just needed something to call for attention, and for something that would make your boss believe that you still had that edge in you. With significant time passing from your initial post about aforementioned baseball players, your boss believed your potential was running thin, egging you to steer back into the path of career-ending blog posts. Falling into the bait, all your intentions of posting that article had been for selfish ones, but never had you been a liar.

Just as quick as people were able to call Gojo a dying flame, they were just as quick to put the blame on you for his downfall. Noting that this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t fabricated such lies to tarnish his name. People pulling up old clips to note your supposed harsh encounters with Gojo Satoru, and calling out each and every one of your “lies.” Just as you had tried tarnishing his name, people were now trying to ruin yours, and calling for Gojo Satoru back on the court, praying for a speedy recovery.

And with shoulders slumped as you hold a cardboard box with your most prized possessions inside.

“Your name has led this company under a lot of backfire for what you’ve been releasing,” your boss’s eyes holding no remorse as he sends you on your way. “I’m sorry, but we’ve got to let you go.”

With a heavy sigh, you can only call this your karma.

─────

After contemplating for a week, Gojo finally pulls out his phone and dials Higuruma’s number. It only takes his phone two rings before he hears the deep and gravelly voice of his manager answering his call, “Hello?”

“I’ll take the position,” Gojo’s straightforward, his voice trembling as he’s accepted the conditions that his team has given him. After being bedridden in the hospital, doctors telling him that his body was shutting down due to years of being overworked and his body succumbing to his self-inflicted suffering, it gave him time to reflect. Racking through his mind, he remembers some of the occasions that people spoke ill about him. It made him realize that you were right and instead of the rage that he underwent, he should’ve been doing self reflection.

“Huh?” his disoriented manager hums in confusion. Gojo sighs, rolling his eyes as he throws open his front door. The doctors had told him to take it easy, to not work out and just… rest. However, would a quick jog kill him? With his smart watch on his wrist as he steadies to speed walking before finding a gate to lean against.

“That coach position at that basketball camp,” he further clarifies. “You’re… right. It’ll do a lot of good for me.”

Maybe I’ll actually become the role model that I thought I was. There’s a pause, where Gojo believes that the call has disconnected. However, when he taps on the watch screen, his manager’s name still blares brightly. “Uh, hello?”

“Sorry, no, I heard you,” Higuruma collects himself. “Truthfully, I didn’t expect you to accept so quickly—” his coach chuckles in between “— I thought you’d need more convincing.”

Am I really such a stubborn ass? Gojo didn’t realize that he had voiced his thoughts out loud, shocked when his manager responded bluntly, “Yes.”

A vein starts protruding his temple, eyebrows knitting together in momentary annoyance. However, he catches himself before he could flip. Inhaling and exhaling as those self help articles and apps have been instructing him to do, closing his eyes as he calms himself gradually. Instead of anger, a dry laugh falls from his lips. “Just send me the details— please.”

─────

You were a coach when you weren’t a journalist. Something that you did per diem when things were slow at the office, but now that you had been fired and no other company seemed to want you after your tremendous fall, you had to take up more hours to pay the bills while you considered the possibilities of how you could fill the void in your journalist heart.

Tik Tok was oversaturated with opinionated people, but would they accept one more person? Did you have anything to offer on the ex-dancing app?

You heard your name being called, another one of the coaches, but the head of the camp within itself, Masamichi. “Yo, I need to speak to you for a second.”

Nodding, you call for your aspiring basketball players to take a ten minute break as you step to the side. Masamichi sighs as his hands prop on his hips, his head hanging low as he glances towards you. “You’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m toying with you. Please understand that.”

“What’re you on about now?” You furrow your eyebrows, a little snort of air leaving your nose as you try to stay lighthearted. However, with the seriousness of his voice, you know that whatever he’s going to tell you won’t be anything to laugh about.

“We’re getting a new coach this Friday,” Masamichi says, bouncing on his heels. Your eyes beam, trying to understand why exactly this would hold any detriment towards you. A new coach was always a good thing in your eyes.

Seeing that flicker of light in your eyes, Masamichi inwardly grimaces when he adds, “it’s going to be Gojo Satoru.”

Oh. “Apparently it’s to help clear his name. At first, when Higuruma called me and proposed the idea, we both thought it would be an ordeal where he would completely decline. However, Higuruma called back and said that he actually accepted the offer. After a week, mind you, but—”

“It’s fine,” you interject Masamichi’s ramble. “It’s fine. It’s fine.”

You think you’re trying to convince yourself that more than you are him. He knows it, too. Grabbing a hold of your upper arm, the older man looks you in your eyes. “Listen—” When his voice deepens, you know he’s taking on that role of a father figure. “—If he gives you a hard time, let me know. You’re an asset here. You work well with the kids and I’ve seen so much improvement ever since you joined us full time.”

Masamichi knows you well. Really well that he knows that you use humor to deflect how you’re truly feeling. “He won’t be a bother. I’m the career-ender after all.”

The hefty sigh that falls from your lips accompanied by the awkward and shifty laughter lets the older individual beg to differ. However, he knows that if he pushes any further, you’d only get snappy with him, so he puts you to the challenge. “If he makes you break, I’m giving him your trainees.”

You gasp, “For him to tarnish? That’s under your jurisdiction.”

“Then, do what you do best. I’m counting on you.”

─────

Gojo really did have all intentions of bettering himself. To leave his selfishness and conceit in the past. He always thought he worked well with adolescents, believing that despite still having so much to learn, he could also help them unlock what makes them so different from the rest. However, the moment Masamichi told him that he would be working alongside you, playing the role as your assistant coach, the sound of your name made his blood boil and the sight of you making his eye twitch.

Rummaging through his mind, he remembers your face. He understands why exactly you would react the way you did. He had no reason to treat you so woefully, but you were the one that seemed to nudge his domino pieces before fate had called it. When you greeted yourself, you tried to exude someone who was kind hearted and sweet, but Gojo wanted to unravel you the same way you did him. Also, what did you know about basketball and how to teach kids?

Inhale and exhale, Satoru, he reminds himself as he watches you instruct the students to take laps up and down the steps. You seemed so comfortable and in your element— more comfortable than him— and Gojo wanted to rile you up. It began with snide comments, statements that blatantly showed his resentment towards you. “I don’t know, guys. Your coach has been someone to end careers, why’d you want to listen to them?”

It made you tick the way he was evidently trying to get a rise out of you, but fortunately, your students spoke up for you before you could defend yourself. “We listen to Coach ___ because they help shape us into good people as well as good players. You’ll only teach us how to eat the court the same way you did.”

That snide remark made his ears turn red, quickly nipping that tactic in the bud. Instead, he became smarter, but in your eyes, pettier. Small pranks that were initially a nuisance— replacing your sugar with salt, water buckets over the door, and glitter bombs that went off at the right times. Small things that would momentarily get you annoyed, but ultimately have you moving on with your day. You played a big game online, but in reality, you were a measly ant along with the rest of the herd.

Masamichi tried saving you when he could, but you always batted off his attempts. You could handle a man-child. However, everyone had their line and Gojo found out where to cut it. He had heard that you didn’t like bananas, and completely detested them. Every time that Masamichi went out for a run, you’d always ask for a smoothie, but always put the emphasis on no bananas. He saw the perfect opportunity to fuck with you.

Your typical order that he had managed to memorize with the amount of times you recited it, but just with the addition of bananas. He learned that the drink was actually a simple Strawberry Banana smoothie, just with a few other unnecessary ingredients. He held the liquid delicacy as he walked into the building. Your vehicle parked out front notifying him that you were on work grounds today, early like you habitually are. He had the drink in a paper cup warmer to have a barrier from the condensation on it, and he had the worker write your name on the cup instead of his. He had added his own personal touch to it, writing ‘Just because’ on the side without actually letting you know it was from him. And when you weren’t looking, he set it down alongside your things and went about his day.

─────

“Ooh,” you hummed, spotting the drink on the counter next to your backpack. Picking it up, you read the sides. In a low voice, you repeated, “‘Just because…’”

Deducing it down to Masamichi, you pull open the fridge to slide the fruity beverage towards the back before stuffing your lunchbag right in front of it. While this wasn’t your journaling career, where your food and drinks have been stolen a bunch of times, you still had to be about your belongings just in case of the off chance. That off chance being Gojo.

You can only hope that he doesn’t make your day too difficult as you head around back. With the schedule changing biweekly and the forecast calling for an all-sunny week, your team will be instructed to use the outside court all week unless the weather decides otherwise. Adorned in a simple white t-shirt over your sports bra, you had it tied in the back as you had on sports pants. The sun was beating down on you. It didn’t even take five minutes for you to pull out your baseball cap and shove it on your head. A tall shadow started to overcast you and with one quick glance back, it’s the white-headed devil himself. Trying to keep it cordial as much as you could, you gave him your typical greeting for everyone, even a stranger. “G’morning.”

“Morning,” he yawns, crossing his arms. “Everything going swell so far?”

Quirking up an eyebrow, you give him a knowing look. “Swell? That’s been your weakest alarm so far. What is it so far? Distracting me before I realize that you’ve miraculously got the children to take your side and they’re going to start throwing water balloons at me? No—” you purse your lips, a finger on your chin. “—You’re not actually that smart.”

“No,” he scoffs. The kids still don’t like him enough to side with him. “I was genuinely checking up on you. I see my attempt has failed.”

“Like your career,” you remark.

“Because of you.”

“Because of your abhorrent attitude and personality.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten hurt if it wasn’t for you.”

“Do you ever accept accountability for your own actions?”

“Do you?”

The gravel under your shoes sounds as you turn to face him. You want to shout at him, to continue to throw insults at him. However, as you look up at the bastard. You let out a deep sigh, and your tough act falls. “I didn’t mean for you to really take my words to heart. I just—”

Gojo scoffs. “Like I’d believe that. You seemed to really love your little nickname a few seconds ago.”

“Only because you pushed me to—” You take another second. “Can’t you just make this easy for me?”

“No.”

“God, you’re so immature,” you breathe, before inevitably continuing, “I’m being honest, I really am. My boss— My old boss, he was hounding me that I lost my spark, and while I meant every word I said in that article, I didn’t actually think you would take it to heart.”

“What?” Gojo snorts, despite taking in your apology for what it's worth. He can hear the sincerity in your voice. “Think that all professional athletes are conceited and heartless?”

“No,” you scoff. “Just thought you were someone more thick-skinned. Didn’t really see the fragile little boy that you still are.”

You didn’t mean for it to sound the way it did. In fact, you didn’t mean to say it at all. Your eyes widen as realization strikes you, “Wait, I didn’t mean it—”

“No, you’re right,” he says uncharacteristically calmly. “You’re right. I’m still that fragile little boy, but you still amount to nothing, coaching a bunch of kids who might not ever truly make it. And if they do, they’ll still be leaving you in the dust, where you still amount to nothing.”

And it cuts this time as well, but at least you can convince yourself that you deserved it.

─────

“I don’t know why I said it,” you sigh, slouching across the booth seat from Masamichi, still reflecting on what you told Gojo and ultimately what he told you. With the smoothie in hand, you swirl the straw around as you mix the large ice chunks with the rest of it. “I didn’t really mean how I said it. I was just trying to say that I understand him— where he’s coming from. It just didn’t come across how I wanted it to.”

“Yeah,” Masamichi hums. “You always struggled with finding the right words to say. Somehow, your journalism career lasted longer than I anticipated.”

You playfully kick at his shin, gaining no reaction from the man as the two of you chuckle. “I deserve it, though. What he said.”

“Mmm,” the older man shakes his. “That’s a reach. I understand where you're coming from and his reasoning too, but at the end of the day, he accepted his position to help learn how to manage situations like this and to build a more kind soul. He needs to build tougher skin and learn how to react under weighty circumstances like this.”

“Yeah, but still—” You reach for the smoothie at last, taking a sip from the straw.

“‘Yeah, but still’ nothing,” Masamichi points at you. “You didn’t deserve it. End of the story.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “By the way, thanks for the smoothie. You didn’t have to, because now I feel like I have to pay you—”

“I didn’t buy you the smoothie.” You didn’t have the time to process what he was saying, feeling like your throat was clogging up and like you couldn’t breathe. Hives started covering your arms as you started to drown out every sound, including the panicked shouted of Masamichi as soon as he saw your skin.

“Shit,” he cursed, calling out your name and reaching for your bag. “Your epipen, where is it?”

He was trying to act fast, dumping out all of your stuff, but to no avail, he couldn’t find the device. Hearing the commotion, people that were passing by peaked in to see what was happening. “Masamichi, what’s—”

“Call the ambulance!” he shouts. “Fuck!”

─────

“Gojo!” he hears his name being called from across the court. A coworker he doesn’t know the name of, but from the hurriedness in his steps, Gojo doesn’t have the time or chance to try and remember. “Bring every student inside! It’s an emergency!”

He doesn’t have to rush in the kids himself, they do it without any further instruction as everyone rushes towards the double doors. Leading the kids inside of the auditorium, they’re all instructed as everyone’s updated about what has happened. (Your Name) had an allergic reaction to her smoothie. Masamichi had to call the ambulance.

Eyes widening as Gojo puts the puzzle pieces together. It was because of him. The sound of ambulance sirens bring him back to reality as Gojo curses under his breath. “Shit!”

He doesn’t think before acting, running in the direction of where people were saying she was, pushing open the doors to the lounge to see you on the ground and Masamichi hovering over her.

“I’m so sorry!” he immediately comes to apologize, not giving his boss a moment to hurry him out of the room. “I didn’t realize that she was allergic to bananas. I did it as an innocent prank! I didn’t know!”

“You what?” Forgetting about you on the ground, Masamichi comes to stand over your body and heads straight towards Gojo. “You fucking idiot! Are you aware that they could die because of your idiocy?”

Gojo’s done a lot of stupid things in his life, but he’s never felt the guilt the way that this act has him feeling right now. He nods, unable to choke out a yes as his eyes divert from Masamichi’s eyes. “I’m so sorry…”

“You better hope and pray that she lives through this, boy, because if she doesn’t—”

The EMTs burst through the doors just in time, asking where the victim lies as Masamichi diverts his attention back to you. Helping the men get you on the gurney as they treat you for your anaphylactic shock and getting your vitals back on track before leading you towards the big vehicle. Masamichi doesn’t bat an eye back in Gojo’s direction, and Gojo had not managed to make himself useful as he watched the entire act go down. In too much of a shock, realizing how once again, his selfishness and rage took over that he nearly killed someone because of it. The tears streaming down his eyes have now dried up and the ongoing looks from his coworkers don’t make him feel any better.

Again, his feet do the thinking as he heads straight outside and to his vehicle. He’s abandoning the kids, yes, but there are more capable adults inside the camp to know how to look over them. He knows that after this life-threatening ordeal, he’ll no longer be accepted back.

He also knows that Masamichi will probably beat him down for even trying to attempt visiting you, but he’ll take his chances.

─────

Masamichi had forced you to take two weeks of PTO the moment you had been discharged from the hospital. Establishing himself as your second father figure, he didn’t give you much choice in the matter the moment you immediately tried returning back to the camp. You don’t remember much about the incident, except the fact that one moment you were thanking him for the drink and the next, you weren’t able to breathe.

When you tried to ask for more details from Masamichi and the doctors, they could only tell you what you already knew— your allergic reaction to bananas nearly caused your death. It was evident that the doctors didn’t know the entire story as well and that Masamichi wasn’t telling you something. He chalked it all up to an accident, saying that he forgot to tell the worker to exclude the bananas. However, you could tell something was missing.

Was it really just a foolish mistake or was he keeping something out? You know that it was pointless to go back to the camp. Halfway into the first week of your break, you know Masamichi will do what he did to you the first time you pulled this stunt— drag you right back outside and to your car. But would a little visit hurt anybody?

Dressed in comfortable clothing, you wear a spaghetti-strapped top and a pair of sweats. With the sun beating down on you, a bead of sweat already threatens to drip down the temple of your forehead. You speed walk to the double doors, swinging them open to be met with the silence of the hallways. Checking the time, all the students should be on the court training right now. In the distance, you can hear the faint sound of balls bouncing and dribbling down the court.

There’s something restricting about the air when you walk down the hallway. Tension lingering from all corners of the building. Usually, there are more people sauntering around on the outside, filling out papers and documents and running quick errands. But, it’s empty. Turning a corner, you’re finally greeted by someone, Yuuji, one of the high school volunteers looking for hours.

“Oh,” he gasps, saying your name. “You’re not supposed to be back until another week or so.”

“Yeah, I’m just visiting,” you chuckle. “Don’t worry. Where’s everyone? Usually, there are more people out and about?”

“Well, we’re a little bit understaffed,” Yuuji squirms, rubbing the back of his neck. “With you on break and Gojo getting fired, Mr. Masamichi thought it was best that every adult got more involved until you’re back.”

“Gojo’s fired?” you furrow your eyebrows. “Why? What happened—” Before Yuuji could say anything more, you snorted. “— Don’t tell me that he pulled a prank on Masamichi instead of me?”

“N-no,” Yuuji stammers. “He, uh— Um… Actually, I think I gotta go. Megumi’s probably wondering where I am right now. I gotta head back.”

It’s evident that the boy’s hiding something, trying to fabricate a lie to get himself out of the situation. Before he could dash off, you grab him by the wrist, stopping him in his tracks. You can see him wince, knowing that he has no way to get out of the conundrum he put himself into now. You give him a look, it’s not stern, but a soft and concerned look. A look that has Yuuji melting before you can even ask him to tell you the truth. “Masamichi’s going to kill me, but—”

When the bell rings, you make a bee line straight for Masamichi. It’s lunch time, meaning that he’s heading straight for the cafeteria with his students in line. Yuuji’s long run off to find Megumi, heading in the opposite direction of you. When you spot him, his back is turned to you as he guides the students inside, barking at two trouble makers who refuse to follow orders the first time. “Get in line! Don’t make me say it again!”

You don’t notify him of your presence until his entire class is inside the cafeteria before you’re blurting out. “Why didn’t you tell me that it was Gojo?”

Shoulders stiffening, Masamichi’s head swivels to see you shocked. Trying to deflect from your question, his gaze immediately turns stern as he points a finger at you. “I told you not to come back until your break’s over.”

“Answer my question,” you frown. “Why did you lie to me?”

He sighs, knowing that he can’t run from this discussion with you. After all, you had a right to know. “Let’s speak about this somewhere more private.”

He leads you inside of a vacant classroom, gesturing you to sit down at any of the available desks as he leans against one himself. He sighs, holding his head down. “Apparently it was supposed to be a prank. Heard you talking one day and thought it would be funny to give you a drink with bananas.”

You tut out a breath of air, keeping your head down as you digest the information. “He had the audacity to try and visit you in the hospital. They had to rip me off before I could do any proper damage to the boy. Tried sending flowers after that, but I threw them all away.”

“But, didn’t you think I had a right to know that he tried to kill me?”

“Yes, but—” Masamichi knew that he didn’t have a good enough reason. That his choices were all fueled by anger. “His people offered payment. Enough to cover your medical bills and enough to say that he’s sorry.”

“So, they’re giving me hush money basically,” you scoffed.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but if you want his manager’s number, I’ll forward it to you and hopefully, you can find some equal grounds to agree on.”

“I wish you told me this from the jump,” you say.

“And I’m sorry for not,” Masamichi confesses. “I thought I was doing it to protect you at first, but I was just angry that he took it this far.”

“I’m just a fool for thinking that you’d buy me a smoothie so early in the morning,” you try to laugh it off, but Masamichi keeps those same frown lines on his face.

“I’m a fool for even allowing him to work here,” he sighs. Before you can say anything about the comment, Masamichi stands to his feet and grips you by the shoulder. “Time to send you back on your way. I’ll forward you the number to his manager and hopefully after that, you’ll get some peace back into your life.”

“I really just came to visit, you know,” you sigh. “Let me stay a little longer. I miss the kids.”

“They’re not going anywhere,” he says. Nudging him, you let Masamichi lead you right back out to your car. When you’re driving home and waiting at a red light, your phone buzzes and you receive a message from him— Gojo’s Manager (Higuruma Hiromi): xxx-xxx-xxxx.

─────

You and Higuruma come to an agreement that you’ll take the hush money— which he claims isn’t— if you can meet with Gojo himself. However, the only way you can meet Gojo is through you signing a nondisclosure agreement about the entire ordeal. You reluctantly agree because you really want some closure, and you had no intentions of going to the police about it. After the entire situation, you’re just tired and want this all to just go away. The authorities would only add to your stress and that might kill you quicker than your allergic reaction.

Higuruma sets up for the two of you to meet at a hotel, booking a room for the two of you to speak in private— accompanied by the manager himself, as well. It’s an extravagant and luxurious place with architecture that made you believe that you had actually stepped inside of a museum. You beam in awe, but it’s all cut short when a man approaches you, and calls your name. “That’s you, correct?”

You nod. “Yes, you’re Higuruma, right?”

“Yes,” he answers. You didn’t know what to expect of the man, thinking he’d be some older man— bald— and not a man with sunken brown eyes and stringy dark hair. His eyes clearly reflect how he always sounded on the phone, exhausted, as he instructs you to follow him. The two of you walk side by side in silence before he’s clicking the ‘up’ button to the elevator and leading the way.

The room he’s booked is gorgeous, closely resembling a home within itself as you’re immediately greeted to a family and dining area. Vintage-style couches and rugs with intricate patterns on it. It’s gorgeous. “I will let Gojo know that you’re here,” Higuruma gestures towards the dining area. “Take a seat and I’ll be back in a second.”

It takes five minutes of you admiring the centerpiece before you hear the shuffling of feet and the creak of a door opening. Craning your neck around, you watch as a disheveled Gojo leaves the confines of the hotel bedroom to pull out a chair across from you, never once meeting you in the eye. He looks like a mess, white hair worse than it usually is, sapphire eyes that look lost as purple eyebags hang, and he looks like Higuruma just had to drag him out of bed, wearing a charcoal gray t-shirt that’s all crushed up and stained black sweats. When he slouches in his seat, his voice is more gravelly than you’re used to. “You can leave, Higuruma.”

“You know I can’t do that—”

“You can leave!”

He doesn’t have to say it again for a third time. Higuruma’s eyes flash from Gojo to you before heading towards the door, leaving the hotel room altogether. However, both you and Gojo know that the man still awaits right outside the door. When an uncomfortable amount of silence has passed, Gojo’s surprisingly the first to speak. “Go ahead. Yell and me, and tell me how much of a horrible person I am.”

“I—”

“I deserve it,” he whispers. “I— I’m a shitty excuse of a person.”

“I just—” You catch yourself. When you called Higuruma and asked to meet with Gojo, you never really had a plan or prepared anything for what you were going to say. You never did know why you wanted to speak to him. You just needed to see him, see how he was holding up. When Masamichi told you the truth, it was hard to digest and at first, you were in denial. However, when you got home, you were furious. You cried out your anger, you screamed out your anger, and you ripped out your anger. However, you could never really voice it out in actual words. But a vice inside of you just calmly told you to vent. Vent like you did the first time and the second time. So, again, you tried.

“I just—” you clenched your fists. “—Did you realize how stupid you were?”

You said it in such a calm and low voice that it made him shudder. He kept his head low, still not wanting to meet his eyes. “Do you realize how dumb and fucking stupid you are? For days at a time, pulling off ridiculous fucking pranks all because you had a personal vendetta against me to the point you nearly killed me!

“At first, I excused it, but you had every right to be angry,” you continued. “ But, I literally could not breathe. All because you thought I didn’t like bananas. You’re so fucking stupid!”

“I know…” he whispers and miraculously you hear him.

“I don’t think you really do,” you sneer. “You ran up and down that court like you owned it, disregarding anything and everyone because you thought you were the best. Treated your own teammates as collateral damage with the excuse of bringing home another win, then wanted to cry like a little bitch because you felt threatened about what I had to say to you.”

You continue to rant out your frustrations, feeling the tension leave your body as tears pool from the corner of your eyes. Never did you realize that Gojo’s finally mustered up the courage to finally look into them. “And you might be right,” your bottom lip quivers. “I might be left in the dust, my life amounting to nothing in the end, but I’m the person who turned you into nothing, so who really has the power, huh?”

You invade his personal space, reaching across the table to point a finger in his chest. He can feel your quick breaths against his face. “It was a shame that I couldn’t watch your soul die on that court first hand. I’d have loved to spit on your grave.”

You’re so close that he can see every speckle on your face, his eyes softening at the flicker of rage that runs rampant through you. He concludes it as a spur of emotions when his lips touch yours, tasting the faint touch of lip gloss against your lips and mint of your toothpaste. He feels the fleeting moment in which you reciprocate the taste of his supple pink tongue against yours before a sting to the face detaches his lips from yours. And he’s met back with that fiery gaze of yours before your eyes falter. “What— fuck—”

This one is more seering, sucking the breath from his lungs as he feels your fingers knot inside of his white locks. The two of you stretching across the piece of furniture, lips locked onto each other’s. His arms reach for your waist with need, pulling you to him and dragging you across the table, nearly sending the two of you flying off the seat. Catching each other’s balance, his grip around your waist tightens as a deep sigh falls from his lips.

He presses you against him hard, making you feel the growing ache of his cock, swelling up from lust as he latches onto you. The palpitating air thickens as he attempts to swallow you whole. He pulls away, chest rising and falling, as his pupils dilate. He breathes, “Tell me how much you hate me.”

Hands wrapping around his neck, your nails dig into his skin. “I fucking hate you. I wish we never crossed paths.”

Fuck, he curses inwardly, pulling back to his lips as his arms begin to wander the course of your body. You’re wearing a simple top and shorts that stop mid-thigh. Fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, his long and slender digits send the cotton material upwards, exposing your bare waist and up to your sports bra. The sage green elastic material hugs onto your chest as he throws your shirt off. You ground your hips to his pelvis, the denim rubbing against his covered cock and eliciting foreign sounds from his lips. And your lips tremble in hurt, eyes getting glossy as you pull away from him. You hold his face, caressing it and forcing him to see how hurt you are. “I could’ve died, Satoru. Do you really realize how fucking stupid you were?”

“I do…” His eyes flicker away from yours before he feels your fingers digging into his skin. “I do… I was so fucking stupid.”

Grinding your hips down, Gojo’s hands fall back to your waist, keeping you grounded there. “You deserve to rot in jail.”

He nods, this time mouthing the two words, I do. He goes to toy with the button of your jeans shorts, undoing it and pulling down the zipper. You grab onto his wrist, stopping him from continuing. “You’re forever indebted to me, y’know that? No amount of money can silence me.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” he easily succumbs. “I’ll get on my knees for you.”

“Want to get that in writing?”

“Yes.” Guiding Gojo’s hand into the depths of your shorts and past the band of your underwear, he feels the curls of your pubic hair, playing with the tufts of locks before dipping down further. Your hips rise as you latch back onto his lips and tug down your pants, kicking them off when they pool at your ankles. All the while, Gojo’s hand is still stuck inside your underwear, playing with your clit and sliding his digits down your folds. Arousal pooling from your cunt that he can only imagine tastes sweet. He can only hope that you’ll give him the opportunity to try.

He rolls his thumb against the dark bud as his index and middle finger delve deeper, heart pounding against his chest as his back sinks into the back of the chair. Your slick is sticky, gliding against his digits as he feels your folds, dancing around your entrance. Legs spread as your hips are in the air, your spine shudders as you inhale deeply. Your nails dig into his biceps, certainly marking and bruising his delicate skin as it reddens under your harsh touch. Your hips gyrate and grind against his fingers, hoping for more friction than what he’s allowing you.

Everytime you leave the sweet taste of his mouth, Gojo feels his soul softly crying out as his sapphire eyes twinkle in need for you.

“Gojo,” there’s a dark look in your gaze, eyes hazy with lust that looks so good on you. Hands traveling to knot themselves back into his hair, you tug harshly. “Don’t you want me to feel good?”

Your eyes soften, feigning innocence despite the position you’re both compromised in. Still, Gojo can’t help but fall for the spell you have him under. “Yes, I do.”

You’re close, capturing his bottom lip in between your teeth as you bite down on it, nearly drawing blood before letting go. “Then, stop teasing me. Be good for me, yeah? Or, are you still that pathetic little boy I always knew you were— er, are?”

“I’ll be anything you need me to be,” he breathes.

“Then, fuck me with your fingers,” you say. “Make me feel good.”

Gojo Satoru really is a skilled and talented man whose potential died down with his continuously poor choices. You truly meant it when you said he had so much more to unlock and hone in on with his skill, but his selfishness and greed overpowered him. But, right now, you can only see a selfless man who wants to please. A man who’s finally using those skills and practice and putting them to good use. His lengthy fingers twist and turn inside of you, your arousal dripping out of you like the sweet sap from trees. They drip down between each knuckle, messing up his calloused hands, but he couldn’t care less. However, while you saw selflessness in this moment, he still thinks he’s a selfish boy as he finds himself greedy, needing you like never before.

With every thrust of his fingers, he feels the tips of them touch that spongy spot inside of you. And you make the sweetest of sounds, a noise that’d have sailors out at sea captivated. Your head’s thrown back, hair falling past your shoulders as your back’s arched and accentuating your breasts. He’s got your sports bra pushed up, revealing your round breasts as they gently bounce as you bounce on his digits. His lips have found home in the juncture of your neck, kissing down your jaw and to that sweet spot on your neck, making your juices continue to pour out of you.

He’s still a selfish man, wanting for you to stay like this if he can get the opportunity to forever make amends and have you look this beautiful as he makes you feel good. Your walls would clench around his fingers every once in a while, a quick spasm notifying that he’s succeeding. There’s a soft squelch sounding in the air, the stench of you intermingling as well as Gojo’s pre stains his underwear and probably have long seeped to his sweats. However, there’s more worrying things to stress about.

Your mouth falls open into an ‘O’ as your eyes flutter shut, your heat pulsating in alert as you feel Gojo’s fingers quicken its pace. You hear him curse, fuck, alongside you as your cries are soft. Legs tensing up as his free arm wraps around the expanse of your hips, he holds you still as you feel that coil inside of you snap. “Gojo, fuuuck—”

You paint his fingers in white, walls spasming around him as he finger fucks you through your orgasm. White dripping down to the seat of the chair before you feel an absence and a sting to your clit, a clap sounding through the dining area of the hotel room. You squeal, a high-pitched sound that makes Gojo’s chest rumble. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you nudge him, hearing him chuckle. You silence his moment of amusement with need, your eyes meeting his beautiful ones as they speak all he needs to know, but still you vocalize it.

“I need more, Gojo,” you whine, eyebrows knitting together as you tilt your head to the side. “Y’think I’ll forgive you just for your fingers, hm?”

“No,” he shakes his head.

“Y’think I’ll forgive you if you continue to fuck me against this table?” It didn’t take him long to scoop you up in his arms, displaying his strength with such ease that it takes away your breath. You go to caress his face, softly telling him, “Good boy.”

Bringing you to the private room, he places you on the bed with a gentleness before climbing over you. Like a dog trained to be loyal and obedient, he waits as he admires your beautiful state. Reaching for the straps of your bra, he pulls you out of it and rids you of your soiled panties. He admires your naked state, eyes taking in every curve and blemish that you have. Absent-mindedly, he sighs, “So beautiful…”

“C’mon,” you coax him closer. “Come and fuck me already.”

Gojo realizes that he’s still completely dressed, doing both of you the favor of shedding himself of his shirt, revealing his well refined body. His body seemed to have been carved by the gods themselves, taking extra time to care for him and make sure that he dazzled every man and woman that walks in his path. And when he pulls down his pants, he reveals his defined thighs and calves as his boxer briefs hugs onto his skin, his erection prominent underneath. You can see the wet patch of his pre, making the white fabric translucent as you see the dusty rose color of his tip.

Gojo dips, calling the moment to a close as he presses his weight into you. His pelvis bends to meet your soaked core, still stained with your orgasm. Clothed erection rubbing against your sensitive nub and making your body shudder as Gojo kisses along your neck. His hand dips to tug down the hem of his underwear, making his cock jump out in excitement as he cups his balls and guides his length to your sopping pussy. His reddening tip gets needy as he slides his shaft down your folds, lubricating his length in you before aligning himself to your ready entrance.

Your heart starts racing, feeling just how long he is. You lock eyes with Gojo as you dig your elbows into the bed to meet him for a kiss. Gently, you feel his head nudge open your walls, pressing deep as he enters you. This kiss tastes of longing on Gojo’s behalf, how he inhales you as he pushes inch by inch inside. The warmth of you makes him want to stay like this forever, feeling his balls tighten up as he bottoms out. This kiss is slow as you hear the wetness of your lips against each other as it goes from deep to quick pecks. It’s distracting and confusing you for what this is— a desperate and wrongly executed display of your raw emotions.

No, this is starting to feel like something more. However, you need this. You need to feel this power you have over the man. You need to feel this. So, you take it. Greedy and wanting, the both of you switch places. Though, you fear, you’ve always been a selfish person and Gojo’s starting to unravel that side of you.

Pulling out of you, only leaving the tip in, the next plunge of his cock is purposeful. Gojo wedges himself deep inside of you, bottoming out inside of you as his hips shimmy. You gasp out, back arching as your breasts press into his chest.

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathes, a pathetic sob leaving him as he continues these slow and well-calculated thrusts that force you to feel all of him. Each one spelling out how pathetically sorry he is. “Don’t deserve to be buried deep inside of your cunt.”

Gradually, his thrusts quicken, calling for sweet sobs and mewls to leave your lips. With each drill of his hips, you feel his head kissing that soft spongy spot deep within. Making your toes curl as your legs go to wrap around his waist. Your mind is a fog, but still, you find the will to speak, to say something coherent. “You don’t deserve any part of me. You’re nothing but a greedy piece of shit.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Tell me how much you hate me.”

“I hate you,” you whisper, and again, he says, “Yeah? How much?”

“So much,” you cry. “I hate you so much. So, so much.”

And soon enough, those three words continue to pour from your lips as Gojo fucks into your wheeping pussy. The wetness sounds and echoes through the room alongside your mixed grunts and moans. You grip onto his biceps, marking up his arms even more as he takes in every call of hatred you make to him. And when you feel that familiar quiver to your cunt, you feel the waterworks coming, your eyes pricking with tears as you sob. And with his thumb, Gojo goes to wipe them away with his thumb. He apologizes incessantly, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

This release is different, making your entire body spasm in his hold as you feel your inner thighs become soaked. Your stomach is coiling as your legs tighten even more. He feels your release against your stomach, the translucent liquid splashing against him as he curses low. He feels the twitch of his cock, pulling his length as he goes to rub at your clit, watching how explosive your second orgasm is. He leaks onto your stomach, white dripping from his tip and making a mess of you. His chest rises and falls as body comes to slowly relax when the last of your juices splatter onto him.

Your body’s exhausted, wasting your tears and energy on a man who doesn’t care. “You tried to kill me, Gojo. I don’t— I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you.”

Satoru believes he’ll be able to live with that.

─────

GOJO SATORU JUST POSTED ON TIK TOK!

Each and every one of Gojo’s videos were fabricated by this management team, never truly putting in effort into using the app himself. However, he finds himself so warped inside of his mind that he feels like he needs to issue a statement out himself. Without his manager or PR Team knowing themselves. Pressing the button to begin recording, he lets out a sigh.

“Hello everyone,” he begins. “Truth be told, I haven’t prepared a speech for what I wanted to say because of the recent course of events. I didn’t think I would ever address this, but I think it’s about time that I do.”

He clears his throat. “I want to start off with that article and all the claims that it states against me,” he begins. “I want to confirm that they’re all true.”

Within the course of ten minutes, Gojo believes that he’s spoken his mind and has given out a genuine apology. Giving him some sense of satisfaction as he ends it with, “And because of all the mistakes and misdeeds that I’ve done, I’m going to end my basketball career with this apology as I hope that the people that I’ve hurt can find some solace in it.

“I’m not expecting nor am I asking for your forgiveness,” he sighs. “Just— I just want to do right by someone that I’ve hurt and work on the path of growth. Thanks and goodbye.”

credits ⋆ thanks to my babe, @satoao, for beta-reading over this work. my favorite gojo lover.

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