After getting hooked on your taste, pornstar!satoru invites you and your pornstar boyfriend to shoot a threesome in the countryside.
pornstar!suguru x pornstar!satoru x fem!reader | part one, two
cw; she/her pronouns used for reader, unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m and f receiving), anal (m receiving), mmf threesome, voyeurism.
The sun has barely risen, the typical tangelo orange of a morning sky is yet to develop—instead, you watch a dull pink canvas the sky, turned more of a rose colour through the car's windshield. Suguru Geto, your lover and costar alike, keeps his hand on your thigh as he drives. Occasionally, he'll tap his fingers against your exposed flesh along to the beat of the old niche rock song blaring through the radio. You have the volume up too high—which isn't good for your ears, but is great for the soul—and the windows rolled all the way down. The wind is in your hair, which aids the setting heat of Summer in Japan. It's quite pleasant out here. You're filming at a location you can only reach through an open road that goes right past some very scenic hills, and you're having a lovely time just enjoying your lover's company. Nothing but the two of you.
That being said—something sits at the forefront of Suguru's mind. You can tell his thoughts are preoccupied, having been with him so long gets you a sweet look into that pretty mind of his. So, when the strings of an electric guitar die out, you turn the radio down and shift in your seat to face him better.
“Cold feet?” You ask.
His hair is up and out of his face, save for a stand that falls over his eyes, though it’s pushed back by the wind regardless. He glances at you, smiles, and looks away.
“I don’t get cold feet," he says flatly, looking at you for half a second before his focus returns to the road. “I'm just interested to see if he'll fuck as good with me there, of if the poor guy will get performance anxiety."
Ah, jealousy it is. The flat kind, because your sweet-boned lover never gets openly jealous. You have to settle for half-bitten quips. You smile, "he didn't seem like the type to get performance anxiety."
Suguru hums in a noncommittal way, his lips pulling inwards. He squeezes the fat of your thigh and taps a finger against your skin. Your skin heats under his touch, it always does. You might earn your living through the most sensual of touches, but none of them quite set you alight like Sugurus does.
Well, except for Satoru. You try to avoid closing your eyes, in fear of being met with the memory of his cock sinking into you rather than the darkness of your closed eyelids. You feel half-guilty, despite Suguru's obvious itch to see you laid out for Satoru Gojo of all people. You know him, you wouldn't be driving forty minutes through the countryside if Suguru wasn't at least a little bit obsessed with the fantasy.
Satoru Gojo, a known name in the porn industry, got to fuck you stupid only a week ago. He had asked you out for drinks after, and though you rejected him verbally, you’re starting to fear that your mind didn’t reject him in the same regard. You had come home that night to your sweet Suguru, and told him all about being hit on by your co-star, to which he laughed.
And oh the irony, that your Suguru was balls-deep inside of you that night when the two of you got an email from Satoru’s agent– an offer, an expensive one. One shoot, a week from then, a threesome between his new favourite love birds and, of course, him.
Suguru remembers Satoru like he was the season prior, like the winter that bled into you, the spring. They did a few films together, Satoru got a little too stuck in Sugurus mind and then, once their contracts were up, they never spoke again.
The rising sun makes him squint against the road— he almost misses the turn off to the countryside estate you had been told to meet at. The place is nice, big, and you’re starting to wonder just how widely distributed this porno will be if the producer is shelling out so much money just for an estate to rent out for half a day.
“With how much they’re paying us, I half expected the budget for location to allow for a crack den at most,” Suguru snorts as he pulls in through the large paved driveway.
“No kidding,” you hum. With this paycheck, you’d just be greedy looking for work in the next few months.
Suguru parks and undoes his seatbelt with a sideways glance in your direction. “We’re a bit early,” he notes. “But it never hurts to get a feel for the place, talk to our co-star for a minute or two.”
You smile. “Mhm, talk.”
“Ready to get fucked for cash?” Suguru snorts, and opens his door to get out of the car. You follow suit, rolling your eyes at his crude words when your feet hit the ground and you’re closing your door behind you.
You walk around the car to meet your boyfriend, and he greets you with a pinch to your ass and a kiss to your temple. You’d recognise something poetic in the contrast of his actions if your mind wasn’t so preoccupied with thoughts of performing for him in only a few moments.
Despite both being pornstars, you rarely take scenes together. Threesomes aren’t a frequent venture— this is something relatively untapped for the both of you. And though you’re sure it would never jeopardise your relationship at all, you can’t help but entertain the worries that creep in. Will Suguru really not mind sharing?
You aren’t sure what’s worse— the thought of him getting overly jealous of Satoru and cutting the scene short, or the thought of Suguru not minding in the slightest as you get fucked stupid by another man. A little possession never goes unappreciated on your end.
“Hey,” Suguru’s silken voice brings you back to the now. “You okay? We can turn around and speed off into the sunrise if you want to leave.”
You grin. “I’m good. Excited, even.”
Your boyfriend nods and leads the way to the estate's front door. It’s closed, which is a little odd considering the production crew will be coming in and out with equipment and the such. You furrow your eyebrows and realise your car is the only one here—maybe you’re earlier than you realised.
“You checked the shoot time, right?” you ask.
“Yes, love,” Suguru makes it to the front door and tries the handle only to find it locked. “Fuck, maybe I should have triple checked.”
He presses a thick finger to the doorbell button and glances to you as the sound of an overly upbeat chime echoes through the estate. Maybe it’s the wrong place, too lavish to be true. Maybe it’s the wrong date, even. Maybe—
The door swings open, and standing to greet you with a knowing grin is Satoru Gojo.
His eyes meet yours first, and then drop to take in the rest of you. Something soft flashes over his face. Lust, perhaps, or appreciation, maybe both. His arms cross over his chest, leaning his body weight on the doorframe as he flits his gaze to your boyfriend, and his eyes return.
“Long time no see, lovebirds. Just on time," he chirps, stepping aside to let you in. "Excuse the mess, I just moved in."
It takes a moment for your brain to register his words, and Suguru is right behind you in thought. "This is your place?" he asks, appraising the foyer as he walks in.
“Mhm,” Gojo replies, and though you expect his lilt to be more cocky, he speaks smooth like silk. “The city is too… busy for me. Plus.. saves a dollar on renting out a house to film in, right?”
You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips: from the looks of his home you doubt he’d blink an eye at paying rent for a night of filming. Still, you don’t know if he’s just trying to show off, or if he really wants his home to play backdrop for the shoot. But whatever the case, he definitely thinks it’s clever on his behalf to lead the both of you here. It worked, you give it to him, but damn.
You look around, taking in everything that catches your eye – the sleek furnishings, a wide kitchen to the left, and an elegant living room straight ahead. All of it feels clean and welcoming. You wonder, idly, what it's like for Gojo to live in a space like this all alone – if he is alone, that is. The question remains unanswered as Gojo leads the two of you down the hall until you reach another door and slip inside.
The bedroom you end up in is stunning; a double bed dominates the centre of the room with fluffy duvets thrown haphazardly over top, whilst the walls are painted a warm, calming shade of grey. The carpet is plush and dark brown in colour, the curtains hanging at either side of the grand windows allow for plenty of natural light to flood the room. There's a tripod set up with a very expensive looking camera pointed directly at the bed: Satoru points to it and grins at you and Suguru, "our camera crew."
You furrow your eyebrows, but Suguru speaks up before you can. "It's just us?"
Satoru nods, crossing his corded arms and he flits his gaze between the two of you. "Yes. I did specify it was a private shoot, lovebirds."
Your boyfriend settles in closer beside you than before, you can feel the heat from his body as he crosses his own arms, a mirror of the white haired man in front of you. "I figured it was a private production shoot," he speaks cautiously. "The email I got was from an agent, not you directly."
Satoru looks unperturbed. "'Course," he says languidly. "She handles all my correspondence."
Gojo turns to the dresser and, from the top drawer, pulls out two white envelopes. Your eyes linger a little too long on his slender fingers as he hands them over to you, one each. As you peek into the envelope handed to you, you find an obscene amount of cash neatly sat inside.
"As agreed, plus... a little extra for the commute," Gojo shrugs. "You can take it and go, if this isn't what you want. If it is, well..." He gestures to the bed. "I'm kinda dying here."
You glance down at his insinuation and find that he's beyond hard. His pants are tight and tented, making his arousal painfully evident. You have to force your gaze elsewhere – to Suguru, who is staring almost shamelessly at Gojo, his brows creased in the middle as he thinks.
The silence is deafening, you can feel the tension rising between the three of you, vibrating off the surface of your skin and permeating the air itself. Suguru seems to have made his mind up, because he turns to you with an awfully familiar look on his face: desire.
"Thoughts, darling?" he asks, and your stomach flips.
There's no point in pretending that there aren't things wrong with how your mind still reels after Satoru's touch. This entire thing has been confusing and disorientating; you're confused about everything – your feelings, your career, your sexual desires – and now, in your current situation, you’re downright torn. And yet, despite that, despite all the questions swirling around in your mind, as soon as your eyes land on Satoru's again – you know you'd die without another taste of his pink glossed lips. That feeling, the desire, the forethought of how he'd pant and whine after you've fucked him senseless – you'll do anything to achieve it.
This doesn’t feel like work anymore, not with the way these two men are looking at you. The camera isn’t even rolling yet, and yet you find yourself ready to fuck them both to the brink of oblivion.
So, without so much as a second of hesitation you pull away from your train of thought and turn to press your lips to Suguru's in a searing kiss. The action, so swift, causes Gojo's breath to hitch in his throat at the sight. Suguru kisses you back, of course, the hand that isn't holding his envelope quickly makes its way to your waistline and pulls you flush against him, leaving nothing but your clothes between the both of you. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck as Gojo watches the two of you intently, gaze burning into the meeting of your lips. You can feel him watching you, his spectatorship dizzying, and you bite Suguru's bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moan bubbling up your throat.
“Jeez, didn’t know this was a cuckolding shoot,” Satoru sounds whiney, threadbare with lust. “Though I wouldn’t mind that… another time maybe.”
You place a hand on the planes of Suguru’s chest as you disconnect your lips and turn your head to the white-haired pervert with heart-shaped pupils. Your grin is sweet, sultry - "another time, huh?"
You pull apart from Suguru and move past Gojo, making a point not to glance in his direction, until you're crawling onto the bed and turning to rest with your elbows propping you up. Both Suguru and Satoru standing, your observers - admirers, is a sight for sore eyes. The camera sits between them, propped up and set on you. In spite of it, you feel oddly at home. The same sweet excitement builds within you that you normally feel when it’s just you and Suguru at home. You didn't know the air could weigh so intimately in front of a camera.
It takes a moment of staring at you, jaw slack, for Satoru to finally spring into thought. He steps towards the camera, makes sure everything is looking good, and then clears his throat as he presses record. He almost looks nervous, and if he weren't so cocky in his usual demeanour you'd think he's getting cold feet. But you remember the way his eyes glossed when he pushed into you, how that confidence of his melted into carnal need in just one thrust. You know what you do to him, and god does it seem amplified tenfold with Suguru here.
And your black-haired lover must know it too, because the second Satoru makes a move to speak, Suguru cuts him off with a step towards him and a burning kiss pressed to his lips. Satoru's sound of alarm at Suguru's lips on his is almost enough to send you dizzy, but the true aphrodisiac is the sight of your lover taking charge with him; lips locked onto one another, the lewd noises they make as Suguru cups Satoru's face with one hand and scratches into the back of his hair with the other. Satoru's moans become louder and more desperate, as Suguru's tongue explores the recesses of his mouth, sucking hungrily upon the flesh of his lower lip. When the two break apart they're both breathing heavily, panting as they catch their breath. An undoubted look of longing is etched into every last one of their handsome features.
You feel your stomach roil with anticipation as you watch them, realising the camera is only pointed at you, capturing your wanton expression. But then, it snaps, and suddenly your lovers are pulling apart to instead lay their gaze on you, resting back on Satoru's wildly comfortable bed sheets with a lust-driven smile pulling at your lips.
“You’re a fucking lucky man, Suguru,” Satoru coos, blue eyes raking over you in appreciation. You’re hardly undressed, and yet you feel naked under his gaze. “Don’t know how you can do porn when you’ve got such a pretty thing waiting for you at home. It’d ruin my performance.”
“I know,” Suguru says plainly, truly. "You've never been good at multitasking, have you Satoru?"
"Harsh words," Satoru pouts, giving his best imitation of an overly dramatic frown. "I can multitask just fine, do you need me to prove it?"
Without a word further, he plucks the camera from its tripod and points it at Suguru. "For example," he sing-songs, "I can fuck and film at the same time."
“Can’t do it dressed,” you point out, to which both men turn to find you already stripping yourself of your clothes. Satoru turns the camera onto you, finding it a sin to not capture you revealing yourself with such delicate fingers. You look into the lens, eyes sultry as you’re known for doing, and wonder just how many people are going to slip their hands under their waistbands at the sight of you.
Once you’ve laid yourself bare, your naked skin feels static with the tension in the air, you reach your hands out and make grabby-hands at Satoru. “Pass the camera,” you hum. “It’s your turn.”
A glance between themselves, and then Satoru is leaning over the bed to slot the camera in your hands. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be, but feels nice and cooling against your otherwise sweaty palm. Satoru’s fingers brush over yours as he hands it over, something electric stills the room for a moment, and then he pulls away with a cough.
He hadn’t realised that Suguru had fallen into place behind him, because when he steps backwards and his back hits your boyfriend's chest, Satoru gasps. You capture the pink blush that speckles at his cheeks, and the beautiful way in which Sugurus hands snake around his body to caress down his chest.
Suguru has always been gifted in the way of sparking intimacy. It’s why the porn he shoots is usually so artistic, he’s sensual. And Satoru, not for the first time, is falling victim to his seductive ways. The gentle traces of his fingers down Satoru’s chest is testament enough to just how narcotic Suguru’s touch is. When he reaches the hem of his shirt and starts lifting upwards, unwrapping his next meal, Satoru can’t help but lift his arms and help move the process along — he’s feeling beyond restless.
Now exposed, Satoru’s chest and torso are now at the mercy of Suguru’s searing touch. Each trail of his fingers down the white-haired man’s chest, each tweak over his surprisingly sensitive nipples, each rough kiss against the column of his neck, they all elicit the most pornographic moans from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You study them both through the camera’s screen, and watch as Suguru presses his lips against Satoru’s ear.
He speaks in hushed tones, enough so that you know the camera isn’t going to pick up on his words. You can hear them though, only just, they're low and sensual and entirely full of sin. "You're lucky I'm letting you fuck my girlfriend for a second time," he purrs. "You know, she hasn’t stopped thinking about your last shoot. We watched it together the other night, I matched your rhythm, let her pretend it was you. She’s obsessed."
You're almost embarrassed by the confession, a burn sheens your skin, but the way Satoru's eyes darken impossibly further calms you. Suguru grins, catching your gaze from over Satoru's shoulder, and presses a kiss to his earlobe. "It brought me back, too," he says. "To when I got you to myself. You remember our films, hm? You're just like she is."
Satoru nods, the tips of his ears turning redder. His breathing is shallow, ragged, needy; and in a split second he's turning around and returning his lips to Suguru's. Desperate hands lift at your boyfriend's own shirt, exposing his tattoo-laden skin underneath. His jeans soon follow, and then so do Satoru's pants.
For a moment it's just the two of them, all clothes bar their boxers discarded to the floor and hands exploring bare skin. The warmth of Satoru's fingers digging into his chest, his ribs, his hips, the hard planes of his body, their bodies pressed together as if to become one. Their lips connect again, hungrily, their teeth knocking together with every brush of tongues. Satoru takes Suguru's lower lip between his teeth and bites hard enough to elicit a choked groan from the back of Suguru's throat.
And when they part, it's obvious just how much heavier the air has gotten. Suguru turns your white-haired tryst and pushes him towards where you sit on the bed. "Move your ass before I fuck that too," he deadpans.
Satoru doesn't blush like you expected he would. Instead, he grins. "That would be a big change from last time, don't you think?" he sing-songs, eyebrows raised as he steps further towards the bed. "Or maybe you don't remember crying from how well I stretched you out, I sure do, all pretty and—"
This time Suguru does flush crimson, and you laugh out loud at this revelation. "I didn't know you bottomed for him," you shake the camera a little with your laughter, capturing the way Suguru glares at Satoru from beneath long eyelashes, "that's something I've got to see."
"Hah," Suguru climbs onto the bed and snatches the camera from you, settling on his knees as he points it down at your form. There, his fingers graze lightly against your bare skin, making you arch your back in anticipation. "Tough luck, pretty."
His black boxers are beyond tented, and he slips them off easily enough, allowing his cock to spring free, perfectly poised and ready for your hand. The sound of Suguru's moan as your fingers wrap around his length is paired with the shuffle of Satoru climbing onto the bed too. He hovers above you for a moment, watching you stroke Suguru through the camera, before taking it from him with a grin.
Satoru returns the camera to its stand and checks its positioning before climbing back onto the bed and settling himself just behind you. You turn to smile at him, and then gasp as his hands tentatively find your shoulders. He peers over you, to the sight of Suguru’s drooling cock in your hand, and presses a kiss to the skin just under your ear.
“You know I’m fucking obsessed with you, right?” He purrs, glancing down to your boyfriend's cock before pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you. I dreamt of breaking you and your boyfriend up until I found out it was Sugu, here. Wanted you all to myself, pretty thing, but I think I’m happy enough to share now, because god do I want to see your lips wrapped around his cock.”
“Mm,” you hum, turning your head to meet his gaze. “You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you’re making demands?”
Satoru smiles, his lips glossy and so perfect you could cry. “I want to taste him on you.”
His words light a fire in your core that licks through your body, ravenous. You can't help but oblige at his words, returning your gaze to sweet Suguru before dipping your head down and pressing a chaste kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. Suguru and Satoru both inhale sharply when you do so. You wet your lips with your tongue and then meet his cock again, drawing lazy circles across his tip before closing your lips slowly, reverently around the shaft of Suguru's cock.
Satoru's hand pushes down a little on your shoulder, and you're forced forward onto your lover's length. Your moan betrays you and sends narcotic vibrations down his shaft, making Suguru grunt and buck his hips forward a little. Satoru, who remains behind you, gently takes hold of your hips and manoeuvres you into more of a doggy-style position — your fingers splayed over Suguru's thighs to try and find purchase as Satoru leans over you.
Gojo's chest presses against your back, skin-to-skin intimacy broken by the feverish kisses he presses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades, your spine, His kisses become hotter, wetter, open-mouthed as he moves down to your waist, large hands playing with the flesh of your ass as he kisses a path down. You moan and shift against his grip, moving your hips in an effort to push yourself back against his boxer-clad erection, but Satoru only snaps you forward, and you choke a little as you're forced to take Suguru's cock even deeper down your throat.
"Fuck," Suguru hisses, pretty purple eyes meeting yours as you look up. Drool glosses his length, slick and hot and heavy against your tongue when he finally gives you a moment to breathe.
Your mouth immediately goes back to work again once your breathing steadies, hollowing out your cheeks and dragging him down, deeper, faster, more desperately. The receipt of pleasure etched into Suguru's tight-wound face is enough to spur on your own needs, but you nearly choke when Satoru Gojo bites into the fat of your ass. Your body arches up and you squirm and whine, but Satoru is relentless, licking over the indentations left behind as Suguru snaps his hips into your open mouth over and over again.
You barely have room to move before Satoru is pushing your knees apart with a strong hand, the heel of his palm firm against your ass as he spreads you open. He takes a moment, heavy breaths fan against your exposed slick, and you’re suddenly all too aware of yourself. You’d protest, tell him not to stare if your mouth wasn’t full with your heavy-lidded lover's cock. You don’t even know why you’re embarrassed — you’re a pornstar, your job is to lie subject to the most intimate of ogling.
Your thoughts melt into the bedsheets, however, when Satoru groans and connects his lips to your pussy. Stupid off the taste of you alone, he whines against your slick heat, enamoured. His tongue flicks over you, circling your clit repeatedly and making your insides burn. You moan, and it comes out muffled and breathless around Suguru's dick.
"You taste so fucking good," Satoru speaks against your cunt. One hand slips between your legs, running two fingers through your folds in collection of your arousal, whilst his other hand tugs down at his own boxers, pulling his cock free and growling against your pussy as he starts to stroke at himself. "Fuuuuuckkk..." He pushes two fingers into you, easy with just how wet you are, and curls them in tandem with each pump of his cock.
Each thrust of his fingers pushes you just that little bit further onto Suguru's length. And you're thanking god that he's there, because without his muscled thighs to hold onto, you fear you’d be fucked too dizzy to keep yourself upright. You figure you must look a mess now, hair mussed and eyes bleary and drool rolling down your chin and all over Suguru's pulsing cock.
You feel pathetic with how quickly your orgasm crests. Satoru must feel it too, how you clench around your fingers, the subtle tremor in your thighs, because his tongue only speeds up in its assault. He's still stroking himself, keeping you open and willing as he sucks your clit harshly. Once you're right at the brink, teetering off the edge of ecstasy, Suguru pulls out of your mouth and leans down to crash his lips against yours.
"Come," he orders into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. "Come for us, darling, come on now."
You're overwhelmed by Suguru's rakish lips over yours, and Satoru's relentless tongue over your sex. Before you can even try to present yourself for the cameras, you're cumming, hard. You writhe against Suguru, and your nails scrape across his thighs until you can hardly draw breath. The world slows down around you, leaving nothing but pleasure to consume.
"Holy shit," Satoru’s breath comes out in a hitched sort of laughter as he pulls back, not bothering to wipe away the sheen of your lust that coats his mouth and chin. “My head’s spinning, I think I’m in heaven. Do I still have a pulse?”
He makes a show of checking his pulse, despite the way you roll your eyes. You’re still coming down from your climax as Suguru peppers feather-light kisses over your face. Satoru, feeling more hungry than doting, brings his two fingers to his own mouth, licking them clean. Suguru catches sight of the action and gently pulls back from you, something knowing in his eyes.
You assume he’s going to redirect your head back to his cock, let you finish your job, but instead he tuts and nods his head to your shared tryst, who is still diligently working at tasting you some more on his fingers.
“Think someone’s a little pussydrunk,” Suguru grins, and you do too at the sight of Satoru Gojo so blatantly desperate for more. Your eyes drift down to his cock, long and hard and weeping with precum.
Though, you don’t want to neglect Suguru, so you turn back to him — “you didn’t finish,” you make a move to reach for his cock, still rock hard and achy-looking, but your lover shakes his head gently.
“Got other plans,” he nods subtly to Gojo. “How about we show our stalker here just how much better the real thing is?”
You grin, catching onto his drift, and watch over your shoulder as Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes. “You know, I’ve had the real thing, from both of you.”
“You haven’t had both of us,” Suguru shrugs. “And I know you’ve fucked your fist to the thought of it. Don’t lie, or you won’t enjoy this as much as you could.”
Satoru’s loaded remark gets stuck in his throat as Suguru pulls away from you entirely, though not without a gentle kiss to your forehead first. He stands by the bed, rolls his shoulders and nods to Satoru — “go on,” he gestures to you, still on your hands and knees. “Taste me on her lips.”
Satoru would probably blush if he weren’t so dedicated to the promise of a taste, because he’s got a hand under your stomach and is flipping you onto your back with ease in only half a second. You sigh at the reprieve of the strain on your hands and knees, and revel in how soft Satoru’s mattress is, when he’s collapsing on top of you with a strangled growl and his lips are meeting yours.
It’s a strange thing, to taste both Satoru, yourself, and Suguru at the same time. You taste Satoru in the way he kisses, hungry and listless, with knocking teeth and exploratory tongues. You taste Suguru in the remnants of his cock in your mouth, the precum that has coated your tongue, mixed with your saliva that now mixes with Gojo’s. And you taste yourself glossed on Satoru’s lips; your climax, the buildup of pleasure he had gifted you with both his mouth and fingers.
A strange mix, maybe, but a perfect one nonetheless. You have to close your eyes to stop yourself from growing too dizzy, and also partly to stop yourself from worrying too hard — how were you meant to enjoy anything to its full potential now that you know how this tastes?
Satoru’s cock presses against the inside of your thigh; you can feel the gentle thrum of its pulse — a testament to his aching need. His arms box you in on either side, settled comfortably between your still-shaky legs. When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips to his, and his eyes are darker than you remember.
“I need to be inside of you, need. You’re fuckin’... god I can’t think.”
As if by instinct, your legs part further, allowing him the access he so craves. It’s a fluid movement, the way he moves one hand down to direct his cock to your slick folds. He rubs himself against you, his tip kissing your clit teasingly. You suck in a shaky breath between parted lips, and when he doesn’t hurry up despite his desperation, you feel like you could cry.
Though, before a complaint can leave your lips, you're watching as Suguru joins you two on the bed, kneeling behind Satoru and running his long fingers gently down the white-haired man's bare back. Satoru's head falls forward at the touch, and as your boyfriends hand runs lower and lower on his back, you realise exactly where this is going.
"You're gonna fuck her good," Suguru purrs, graceful in his touch. "Because I'm going to help you -- that okay?" He reaches back up, brushing his knuckles from between his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine until he reaches his tailbone.
Satoru's eyes are locked on yours as he answers your lover. "Yes," his exhale is beyond needy. "Please, god. Yes."
And from there, things move with practised ease. It feels normal to submit yourself, your body, to Satoru. As Suguru takes hold of either side of his waist and guides him into you, the stretch is searing. You remember just how hard it was to adjust to his size the first time, having to try and keep your face melted neutral for the cameras. You don't feel that same pressure now, despite Satoru still filming, and your nose scrunches up at the feeling of Satoru inside of you.
"You're..." you try, words stuck in your throat as Suguru pushes Satoru's hips into yours a little more. "Please."
Satoru takes control of the pace, his breath hot and heavy on your cheek, his body moving in sync. You moan as he starts thrusting slowly in and out, stretching every muscle in your body as you get used to the feeling. With every thrust, you feel him getting harder and deeper within you, and his mouth dips down to trail along the sensitive skin on your neck.
It's a narcotic, the way he fills you. He's longer than Suguru, though not quite as thick, but he reaches depths that aren't typical for you. As he sheathes himself deeper and deeper inside of you, with the help of Suguru's hands on his waist, You slowly become spineless; relaxing into the pleasure of his sweet push and pull.
Sweat beads at your skin as Satoru quickens the pace, pulling out and plunging back in again with unbridled whimpers as Suguru works on taking his fill. Your boyfriend, domineering though still gentle, starts working your tryst open with one of his fingers.
"Ah- fuck," Satoru's words are heady with need, the initial discomfort of Suguru's fingers pushing into his ass are quickly forgotten, replaced with a deep yearning for more sensation. It sends his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out inside of you at such depths you can't help but cry out. It's a symphony of wetness and gasps of air, each syllable punctuated by Satoru's frantic movements. Your body grows tighter and tighter around Satoru with every pass as he gets worked open so beautifully by Suguru.
Your mind is clouded by everything Satoru has done to you and by the sheer force of him filling you with his cock and all that comes with it. You're completely and utterly lost in the moment, consumed by Satoru, who is consumed by Suguru, who is consumed in the pleasure of serving you both in turn.
"More," Satoru is barely able to get the word out as he slams deeper and deeper inside of you. "Fuck, more."
And Suguru isn't one to deny a pretty thing like Satoru such pleasures; he's pulling his fingers out of him in seconds and replacing them with the head of his cock at his ass. Suguru is gentle, but unrelenting as he thrusts himself into Satoru in one fluid motion. The pressure is enough to prick tears at Satoru's pretty blue eyes, which you reach up and wipe away from underneath him.
A moment is shared, a chance for Satoru to breathe the best he can, before he's testing the waters and pushing back a little, onto Suguru's cock, before thrusting his hips forward, into you.
This is ecstasy incarnate. The two men seem to merge together, their bodies melting as they meet. Suguru fucks you through Satoru, each thrust into him is a thrust into you, into the both of you. It almost hurts, you'd wager, the way your whole body throbs in synchronization with theirs, the way Satoru moans as Suguru drives you both to insanity. It's a weird way to connect with your lover, but one that works nonetheless, the both of you seem to share an awful yearning for the man sandwiched between you, fucked mindless.
And then he's driving your entire being towards the edge, and you feel the orgasm coming on, the rush of blood to your head, your muscles tightening around Satoru. It's a strange feeling of being connected to something bigger than yourself, a system working in tandem with each other to chase climax, but it's a feeling you're quickly growing addicted to. It's warm, it's comforting, and most importantly, it's yours. This man right here, his body pressed tight between yours and Sugurus, is yours. Even if only for the early morning.
"Gonna cum," you whine, lips ghosting against Satoru's. He nods, eyes locked onto yours.
"M—fuck—me too, baby. God, you have to let me come inside of you, doll, can't deny me, please. You—"
"You better," Suguru cuts in, his voice biting from behind Satoru. He thrusts sharply into Satoru, sending him keening forward into you, pressing right into your sensitive g-spot as Suguru hits his prostate in a mirrored pleasure. "Wanna watch you claim her," he bears down, "gonna fill you up, you fill her — watch her face, Satoru. Watch what you do to her."
You gasp as Satoru's fingers dip down to rub frantic circles over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm with each knock of his hips into your, of Suguru's into his. the room is filled with a chorus of moans and whines and desperate pleas for more and more and more. You know you'll never recover from this level of arousal if you don't come soon, but before you can find purchase in your body and begin your descent into bliss, Suguru is first to come undone.
His hips snap forward into Satoru, head craning into his neck, biting down on the muscle of his shoulders for some sort of physical gag — ever the one to stifle those beautiful noises of his. And the feeling of being filled in such ravaging volumes must be enough to send Satoru over the edge, too, because he's knitting his eyebrows together and cumming ropes into you in only moments.
"Fuck," he whines, once again tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by the duality of his pleasure, of you and Suguru, so close to you but also never close enough. He wants to be one with you, a complete unit, bound by sex and soul and the sweet sounds of the most powerful orgasm he's ever had in his life.
You come in tandem with him, it's completely blinding. Your legs fall apart as you cry out, nails scraping across Satoru's bicep as the world melts away and the sensations start swirling about in your mind's eye and the last thing you register is Satoru collapsing forward, breathing raggedly into your ear.
You catch the salty flavour of him as you suck in a lungful of air and smile in response, fucked stupid and blissful and never ready to give this feeling up. Never ready to give anyone else this feeling- god, you already despise whoever gets to taste Satoru Gojo next.
Suguru has to pull out of Satoru slowly, and you wipe at his face with the pad of your thumb when it scrunches up in protest of the loss of Suguru’s stretch. Before he can truly call the scene over, though, Satoru leans down and presses the most gentle of kisses to your lips. A myriad of ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’s spill from his tongue as he does so, each word cut by a kiss to the expanse of your face.
And when he pulls out of you a sickening gush of his cum follows. It spills from your aching pussy and onto the bed sheets beneath you, though Satoru doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He swipes his finger through the mess he’s made of your sex, smiling when you hiss at just how sensitive you are, and brings his cum-coated finger back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours.
Your stomach flips at the sight. Great, he’s gone and fucked you lovestruck.
“Satoru,” a clean voice cuts in. Your head constricts in your fucked out daze when you turn to see Suguru standing by the tripod, his eyebrows raised and pretty purple eyes beyond amused. “It’s not even fucking recording.”
Instead of being confused, Satoru looks sheepish. He flops down onto the bed next to you, eyes glossy and cheeks blushed pink. “I…. can explain? I think I’d rather die than share the two of you with the world. But I’d really die if I didn’t get my hands on you both.”
You meet your boyfriend's gaze. Something passes between you, something knowing. In a weird, probably unhealthy way, you both feel the exact same. This was never a scene for the cameras, anyway— not when such strong… feelings are involved.
“I’m not proposing marriage here,” Satoru huffs when he catches onto your shared gaze. “I just, you enjoyed it, right?”
You giggle from beside him, your sweat-soaked skin cool against the air. Suguru chimes in with his laughter, melodic and beautiful. He folds his arms and watches the two of you laid across the bed.
“Let’s get you both cleaned up, then,” Suguru hums. “I’m not fucking either of you again until we’ve shared a shower.
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cont in comments !
“baby stop im trying to read”
“what do you mean ma im just getting warm”
toji was in fact not just getting warm. his big calloused palms were currently underneath your (his) shirt fondling your tits. it wasn’t uncommon for toji to have his hands on your breasts as you read before bed. He used them like stress relievers. warm and soft and comforting to the touch. you had your kindle in one hand and the other placed on his head gently rubbing at his scalp as he nosed his way into the crevice of your neck.
“fuck baby you smell so good. always smell so clean and vanillery.”
that made you smile.
“yeah i know i smell great.”
he laughed at that because yes you did always smell great. god he was so comfortable right now. nothing on the planet could top this for him. with your boobs in his palms toji could overcome anything. his touch became a bit heated and you knew this would soon be escalating. but you weren’t going to be the one giving in, if he wanted you he was going to have to ask. carefully his fingers began to pinch at your nipples and he knew he had you right where he wanted you when you began to mewl at his touch.
“what you reading about that’s got you like this baby? you cheating on me?”
“how’s it cheating if i’m reading you buffoon? and you know exactly why.”
he couldn’t help but smile at the easy banter that was so common between the two of you.
“want me to do to you whatever your reading about?”
and just as toji began to hike up your shirt with the intention of putting his mouth to work you both heard a slight little patter of feet on the hard wood floor. you couldn’t see anything due to the darkness in the room but you were pretty sure someone was here. toji lifted his head up with his hands still holding your chest under your shirt and craned his neck over the edge of the bed when he felt a little finger pat his shoulder.
“daddy i did sick”
“oh megs for fucks sake.”
authors note: i didn’t expect to receive so much love on this lil drabble! thank you so much lovely people
My heart can't take it.
a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏
“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”
that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.
you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.
you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.
hey, honey!!
it first reads.
I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.
you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.
first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!
you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.
what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.
“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”
“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.
“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”
you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.
second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.
your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.
it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’
no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.
you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.
it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.
he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.
third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.
at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.
it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.
satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.
“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”
“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”
you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”
“we could both stay!”
“you’re kidding, right?”
“I already told yaga; I miss you!”
you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.
fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.
a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.
add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.
you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.
“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”
“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”
“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”
you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.
he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.
then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.
fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.
you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.
your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.
hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.
“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.
“three am thoughts?”
“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”
you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”
he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”
I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?
your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.
the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.
“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.
megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”
“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”
the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”
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do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro
Just finished up and...
MY HEART 💔
How dare you treat him like this. Holy hell I've never seen him look so sad. The fact that mc/PC doesn't go to check up on him is fucked up. My man has not left his room in days. He worked so hard and just to get treated like a monster I am not okay.
Is it just me or did rui look like he was in pain after this?
Cake or Fake - G.S.
Synopsis. The only birthday gift your brother’s best friend wants? You. And not just for fake-dating…
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, brother’s best friend! Gojo, annoyances to lovers, fake dating, PINING, jealousy (Gojo’s side), past Sukuna x Reader, matíng presses, vírgínity loss (Gojo), oraI (fem rec.), PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, size kínk, cervíx kíssing, he’s such a tease, cúmplay, p talking, making him WHÍMPER, spítting, pánty-steaIing, slight chokíng, reader is Geto’s sister, matchmaking, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 11.1k
A/N. In honor of my hubby’s birthday!!
“Wait, who’s coming to your party?”
“It’s not just a ‘party’, it’s my surprise party-”
“Satoru, it’s not a surprise party if you’re the one organizing the surp-” You’re cutting yourself off with a heaving sigh, massaging your throbbing temples. “Anyway- continue.”
Growing up, you didn’t suffer through years of endless torment from Gojo Satoru to hope that he’d ever use logic. No, of course not.
Instead, he’s brandishing the oversized birthday banner he’d bought himself, softly smacking the top of your head. “Besides- it’s not like everyone’s going to be there. Just our group, Nanami’s troupe, some Kyoto people, I invited Yaga but he kicked me out of his office- oh- and Sukuna.”
Ah, there it was.
The one person you didn’t want to see just as much as you didn’t want to be roped into your brother’s best friend’s “surprise” party planning for his own birthday. But, alas, here you were.
And here tumbled the next few words that would likely haunt you for the rest of your life.
“I need you to date me.”
“Oh? Okay.”
“Listen I know it’s stupid and I know-” Wait…what? Cutting yourself off with a choked-up wheeze- for the first time since he’d barged into your life, Gojo had truly and absolutely stumped you. “Wait- you agreed?”
He’s shrugging one broad deltoid, tinted glasses that you’d bought for his last birthday sliding down that high nose bridge of his. And the grin you’re graced with is blinding. “Well, I knew it was about time before you fell for my charms~” Before one strong arm swings its way around your shoulders, manhandling you against the thin black t-shirt wrapped around his sculpted body. He wiggles his cloudy brows, “What was it- the hair? The eyes? The body? Y’know I’ve been hitting the gym more-”
“Gojo Satoru.” you’re gritting out through tight lips. “I need you to date me- just for one night.”
“So it was the body-” he’s gasping dramatically, beefy arms frantically wrapping around your middle. You could feel the curves of his washboard abs against your palm. Purring voice pitching up into what almost sounded like a whine, “At least take me out to dinner first–! To think that you just want me for a one night stand-”
In a split-second, your palms slap over his nonsensical mouth - hard enough that you almost spy a stinging stamp of red on his skin.
And yet, Gojo doesn’t complain. Doesn’t display anything but a brazen gleam in his gaze that practically screamed out kinky~!
“Shut- up- my brother’s in the next room.” You’re hissing, eyes flickering behind Gojo’s toned figure and towards the kitchen door for any looming sign of Geto. “I need you to date me-” Your digits tighten over his mouth as soon as you feel it moving to prattle away once more. “-just for tonight- no, not as a one night stand, put that banner down- We just need to ah- pretend?”
Damn, it sounds more of a garbage idea out loud - and you didn’t even know that was possible.
At the question in his summer blue eyes, your hopefully explanatory words spill out a mile a minute. “S-so Sukuna has been getting around since our little break-up a few months ago- if you can even call it that…”
Ah, melding into such a big group with your brother’s friends and your own in university had always meant that there would be a few bumps along the way.
From explaining to an overeager Haibara that no, you and Gojo were definitely not dating, to making sure that your brother and his best friend didn’t make Nanami suffer from an aneurysm too early in life, to perhaps the biggest of them all - your fiery, yet short-lived fling with Ryomen Sukuna.
The most dramatic bump, according to Shoko.
Sukuna wasn’t a close friend, but it’d taken work to get over the worst of the awkwardness after he’d dumped you without a moment’s notice. And you weren’t exactly dreaming up a wedding with him…sort of, but you certainly did skip out on a few invitations to hang out if you knew that he’d show his smug face.
And right now it left you ironically wishing you’d heeded Gojo’s words when he’d first warned you that Sukuna “wasn’t right for you.”
Though, you think part of it came from his own unexplainable love-hate animosity with the man.
“-but I’ve still been painfully single since the last time I saw him, and you know how he is. I can’t face him like this.” You, in particular, knew too well. “You two still have that weird rivalry thing going on, right? So help me show him up just for tonight- then later we say it fizzled out and everything goes back to normal. It’s a win-win really if- eugh!”
You snatch your hand back as far as it would go the very second you feel the sodden drag of something against your palm. Staring in horror at your clammy skin…he licked you.
And Gojo almost winces at the loss of your touch - he almost drags your hand back himself.
But oh, it was worth it just to see the way your gorgeous features get scrunched up into an even more gorgeous glare - one that said if looks could kill, then he’d already be six feet under and having his surprise party thrown on his grave already.
Truly the way to a man’s heart, he swoons internally.
“Fine.”
And when has that particular tone from Gojo ever boded well for you?
“Fine?”
You find yourself gulping at the slight bob of his smooth Adam’s apple, the flex of his back muscles when he hunches downwards to crowd your space. Mere inches away. Somehow, he seemed too close and too far away at the same time. Too intoxicating with his cold, pinewood scent.
“Fine I’ll let you- heh, use me for my body.” Tone intentionally dipping into a low, rumbling territory. Gojo’s batting his long snowy lashes in a way you’d almost deem innocent - if it wasn’t for the next few words that tumble urgently from his mouth. “-only if you give me something back. A kiss.”
You jolt, “What?”
“I’m the birthday boy, and I say-”
Cutting him off with a thoroughly practiced scoff, “Well, I have common sense. And I say I should just ask Nanami instead-”
“Is the common sense in my five-star getaway cabin with us right now?”
“Okay! You two!” Geto’s roughened hands clap down on your shoulders with a little more force than necessary. His voice is patient - used to this. “Please try not to make this a funeral before we can make it a birthday party, Satoru’s decorations are non-refundable.”
Oh, shit.
How long had he been standing there?
Judging by Geto’s slight shake of your shoulders as if scrambling the practical part of your brain back into functionality - and the way he wasn’t lecturing your ear off just yet - you guessed that the two of you had been lucky this time.
Face burning, you pray you didn’t look as guilty as you were. Swatting your older brother’s well-meaning hands away. “Speaking of, for a busybody hosting his own surprise party, I’m shocked you didn’t want any gifts.” Quirking a brow, “Is there even anything you want? Anything else?”
Gojo knew what you meant - you weren’t just talking about the party anymore.
And, well…he avoids your eyes. Yes. Yes, there is .
You.
But, woe, even the utterly shameless Gojo Satoru couldn’t possibly say that out loud - especially in front of his best friend, and your brother - so he settles on an obnoxiously dragged-out, “Awww- Trynna make my birthday special f’me, sweetheart~?”
And even that was toeing the line.
He can’t help the way his rosy lips curl smugly at the edges when you’re hissing out a heated, “S-see if I try and have a civil conversation with you ever again, Gojo.”
“Ouch!” Gojo’s clutching dramatically at his heart with a willowy faint that leaves him hanging off of Geto’s shoulders - and it wasn’t too hard to fake with the way his heart lurches uncomfortably at the sound of his last name on your pretty tongue. “Right for the jugular- is this your way of throwing the towel on our truce?”
Truce…is that what he’s calling it?
You catch your own brother - that traitor - stifling a bout of laughter behind his hand when his towering best friend seems to cower in your mere presence. Because, really, who was Gojo Satoru against you?
Sighing with that slightly infuriated pout you haven’t lost since you were a whiny, teary-eyed brat meeting him at his Digimon-themed birthday party many, many years ago.
Gojo takes the moment to truly appreciate how you’ve grown since.
He hadn’t technically invited you back then - but what else was there to do when your older brother was off making friends in kindergarten already and being invited by his “new best friend”?
You’d been pouty the entire evening at that, he remembers, and his mother had gotten a ton of photos just of your bickering duo. A year younger and just barely an inch shorter than him, but to a freshly six-year-old Gojo that made all the superiority - enough to tease you badly enough that you’d left him with a tiny, throbbing pink handprint across his cheek, and his poor heart in your palm.
“No.” Your voice rips him out of his reverie, as it always seems to do these days. “So you better k-keep up your end of the truce, too.”
With you stomping your way back to your cabin suite, Gojo finds his twinkling eyes straying right after. Hot on your heels. Unable to tear away. You really have changed since then, all grown up - as is he - and yet-
“That’s after a truce?” Geto wonders out loud for the both of you.
Well, he’s eyeing his best friend. And Gojo was nothing if not a good- well, he was good at everything, quite frankly. Everything except for when it came to you. “Suguru, we might have to plan a surprise engagement party tonight instead of a surprise birthday party.”
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
Because he still feels as much the bumbling six-year-old with his first-ever crush as he was back then.
---
“Matching colors?”
You sigh, “Check.”
“Matching backstories?”
“Check.”
“Kiss me?”
“Ch- wait not yet-” you’re managing to shrill out, fingers curling even tighter around where Gojo had insisted you latch onto his bicep. And you feel him flex boastfully under his velvety button-up, “And do we really need to make some grand entrance? You literally planned the entire party.”
He’s flicking your forehead - softly, you’ve seen Gojo roughhousing with your brother before and he didn’t use even half his strength on you. “Surprise party- the birthday boy has to make a dramatic entrance with his girlfriend. How else will we make a statement?”
You’re grumbling to yourself about why you needed to make a statement at all - but you can’t argue, this was your idea after all.
And Gojo seemed well and fully intent to excel in his role…perhaps too intent.
Now, you always knew that his family was disgustingly wealthy; but Gojo practically dragged you to the nearest high-end mall this morning. Insisting on the latest twinkling bracelets and bejewelled necklaces to match his fitted shirt. Cooing that you looked “absolutely gorgeous” in every single one.
Was this official girlfriend treatment from Gojo Satoru himself? You’ve never known him to have had a long-term relationship in all the years he’s been your brother’s friend but…but it was all so much for just one night of acting.
And when you’re twirling that flowy silken fabric of your dress around your fingers, you wonder if that’s all he was thinking.
“Hey?” The rounded pads of his fingers skim over your cheeks, “Nervous?”
“A little.” you admit, trying oh-so-desperately to escape from his blazing sapphire gaze.
And Gojo crushes you close to his body, one massive palm resting firmly on your hips, hardened front pressing up against yours. Warm. Steady. Voice so close now that you could catch every slight crack towards the end, the heat of Gojo’s feverish breath - practically burning - against your ear.
You wanted to feel his hands more - everywhere.
Woah. You’re shaking your head, thankful it simply looked like you were gathering your wits. Maybe you were more tired than you thought.
“We’ll be alright. Trust me, it’ll go smoothly.” Was- was Gojo Satoru comforting you? He’s cracking a smile, like the thought just occurred to him, too. “And if it doesn’t then I can beat up that b-”
SLAM!
“Why are you taking so lo- What. The. Fuck.”
Your first instinct is to wrench away from Gojo’s hold - but unluckily for you, his first instinct is the exact opposite. And you find his firm digits tensing to dig into the plush of your hips, both of your heads snapping towards that gravelly new voice.
Catching a jaw-dropped Shoko with her half-burnt cigarette dropped to the floor, she looked nowhere near even thinking of picking it back up. You could practically see the gears curdling around in her head.
“Ah-” You’re gasping out in what you hoped was believable scandal, fingers latching around Gojo’s own cold ones. Not to remove - no, Gojo almost has a heart attack when you intertwine them with yours. “Hope we’re not too late, Sa- Toru here wanted to go shopping.”
“Wait-” Shoko runs her hands through her silky locks like she was pleading to the skies above. “Wait wait wait- wait- when did this happen no-” She’s baring you with her most aghast look, “Why did this happen?”
Gojo comes to your rescue, face falling into the crook of your neck with a grin. “Told ya she would fall for my charms eventually~”
“Yes, but I didn’t think she was that stupid-”
Yes! You have to fight to hide your smile, despite the blatant insult. One down - if you could get everyone at this party to believe in your little act, then Sukuna would have to.
“Still here–” You’re deadpanning, hoping that your friends didn’t catch the slight tremors in your voice. Damn- why did Gojo have to be so warm. “-and uh- maybe we should head inside? After it is a certain someone’s-”
“Shhh! You’ll ruin my surprise.”
It all goes according to script - well, your entrance with Gojo and his entrance into the party.
As soon as your duo steps in, the dim lights flicker on and you’re deafened with the cheery yell of surprise! Blinking your startled gaze to adjust to the blinding decorations upon decorations that Gojo himself had put up, you can’t help but let out a chuckle at the smiling faces that meet you.
Geto and Haibara holding exploded party poppers, the rest of the group from Kyoto standing around a brightly lit cake you’d baked, Nanami the one turning on the lights - the farthest away from the birthday boy. Purposefully so, you imagine.
And there - in the center of it all - Sukuna.
Arms crossed, a pink brow raised as he drinks in the sight of you - all of you.
As was the rest of the room, eyes widening in true surprise.
Gojo’s clutching the front of his shirt with almost-frightening theatrics. “You guys- You did this all for me? You’re the absolute best-”
“Eugh.”
“What did you blackmail her with?”
“Congratulations on your relationship!”
Your eyes latch onto Geto - who only takes a long look at you and cackles.
Gojo’s huffing ever-so-slightly as he gets cut off, and that’s what it takes for you to realize that you still had his fingers looped undeniably with yours. In fact, he’s tugging you even close to wrap one heavy arm over your shoulder, the very picture of sappy devotion when he nuzzles his cheek into your own. “They’re bullying me~”
He was laying it on thick.
He’d barely steered you into the living room before you catch a flash of white and two firm arms curled around your neck - away from your supposed boyfriend.
“My lovely!” Utahime cries, cocktail abandoned somewhere to wrangle you free from Gojo’s treacherous grasp. She’s cupping your face with visible concern, “Is your head okay? Did you knock it somewhere? I know a good doctor that can help with-”
“Hey! She’s my lovely-”
“I’m fine, Utahime.” You’re subtly stepping on Gojo’s toes before things can escalate any further. Eyes meeting red ones from across the room, “-I promise. We’re just ah- giving it a go. It’s very new and we didn’t want to make such a big deal out of it, honestly.”
Lies. The entire point is to make a big deal out of it.
Shoko crosses over in a flash, droopy eyes flickering between you and a sheepish Gojo. “Giving it a-” Slicing their way over to the decorative blush on his cheeks, “-go…huh.”
And as you’re surrounded by the tittering crowd, you’ve never felt more like one of those cell samples that Shoko would dissect in medical school and proudly show your reluctant self pictures of.
Ogling everything from the weight of Gojo’s hand on your shoulders to that soppy smile on his face when he smushes his cheek into yours like some overgrown cat. And you can’t help but wear a grin of your own.
Can’t help but feel relief when she cracks a wicked smile, “Fucking finally.”
Haibara gathers your hands in his own, “I-I’m so proud of you two! Nanami and I have been hoping for this for the past five years-” Flitting his strangely wet eyes to a Nanami who couldn’t have looked more disinterested if he tried. “-isn’t that right Nanami?”
“No it’s not.” he’s rolling his eyes, but you catch the slightest hint of a twitch at the corners of his lips. And it hits you that he’s happy for you.
Really, truly happy.
“Right right!” Haibara plows on, and you have half the mind to wonder if the obliviousness was a skill. “It’s been more like the past seven years-”
Geto slaps! his hand on Gojo’s shoulder, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “So he finally grew the balls, huh?”
“Eh? I mean-” you’re strangling out at your brother’s sudden comment. “-I mean of course. Had to practically force it out of him though, y’know?”
Shoko nods, eyes far away like she’s remembering something you can’t. “Of course, you did- pining fool.” And in the corner of your eye, you sneak a glimpse at the way Gojo’s sharp jaw clenches. Grinding ever-so-lightly as she calls out, “Well, I was almost at my wit’s end with your horrible taste in men. No offense, Sukuna, not that this one’s any better- let me know if you ever need his balls chopped off in his sleep–”
Utahime’s narrowed glare stays locked on Gojo, “Hurt her and it’ll be more than your balls.”
Sukuna, notably, says nothing.
.
.
.
Gojo Satoru was a liar.
The guestlist for his birthday wasn’t simply your friends - it was damn near the entire campus by the time the cake had been cut and you’d all settled into your usual conversations.
Body after body filtering in through those towering mahogany doors of his. Invitation or not. Rapidly and steadily, it was growing into another one of Gojo’s famed parties. Honestly, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you’d actually bumped into Professor Yaga somewhere in there.
“Eheh- whoops.” His apologetic words hit hotly against your ear over the thumping music. Your body jostling precariously where you were sat all prettily in his lap on the overpriced living room couch. “I don’t even know half these people.”
And, yet, more than half the people seemed to know you - or, at least, your relationship with Gojo.
Sure, you were aware that your brother and his best friend were amongst some of the most popular students on campus, but this was ridiculous. You couldn’t pass two minutes without a few guests sauntering up to wish the two of you well and leaving Gojo with a “congratulations for finally growing the balls.”
“They sure know a lot about your balls, huh?” You’re raising a brow, back pressed up against the massaging ridges of his abs. And some part of you felt guilty for deceiving all of these people - they really did look curiously happy for the two of you.
Gojo’s bemoaning, “I can assure you that you are the only one allowed to talk about my b-”
“Ugh, couples.” Comes your brother’s voice to the side of you, the cushiony couch dips as he takes his seat. “Though, it is much better than having him mope around.”
“Suguru…” Gojo murmurs. Low.
“What? Scared I’ll embarrass you in front of your girlfriend?” Geto was such a provocateur despite that serene expression he’d constantly wear on the outside. Taking a long swig of his beer before musing, “Remember, she’s my sister, Satoru. And I think she should know about that book of pick-up lines you bought for her. And that picture in your-”
Immediately, two engulfing hands find their place on either side of your head, covering your ears so blatantly. Gojo’s strained screech is only slightly muted when he drags out, “W-we haven’t gotten to that stage yet!”
“Oh, I see I see-” And Haibara - dear, sweet Haibara - always chooses the worst times to pop up from behind the two of you. Ringing voice commanding the attention of about half of the room nearby when he’s humming, “So you two are still in the honeymoon phase, then? How romantic!”
“No.”
“Yes.”
There’s such dangerous possessiveness in Gojo’s limbs when they tangle in a mess with yours. One arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other gliding its lecherous pathway up and down your exposed thigh. Slowly. Savoring.
Gojo’s fingers twirl over the short hem of the dress he’d bought, lips pressed up against your throat as he mutters. “Aw, c’mon– no need to be shy, sweetheart.”
And you’re sure whatever strange little flip your heart did showed on your face - because immediately, you’re being showered with awww’s and squeals from all around you two- when did you even draw in a crowd?
“Then why dontcha give ‘er a pretty peck to prove it.”
But of course, Sukuna was in it, too.
“What?”
You try not to let your true feelings bleed into your words when you take a long look at that unchanged smirk, the way he’s tilting his tattooed neck in defiance. Shrugging up sculpted shoulders, “M’just saying. If you were my girl, I’d want to prove it to everyone here.”
Damn.
Geto nudges his best friend, and you grit your teeth - because proving it was exactly what Sukuna did when you two were dating. Often these parties found you sneaking away if he felt generous, and Sukuna’s lips hot against yours right on the dance floor if he didn’t.
All in front of a fuming Gojo.
And, hell, if he could be petty then so could you.
You’re ignoring the boiling in your veins to run a few stray fingers through Gojo’s angelic hair. Soft. It drags his steely gaze from Sukuna over to you with a gulp, “S’that okay, Toru–” Oh god, that nickname has Gojo wondering whether he’s in heaven. “-wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
“Tch, are you kiddin’ me-” He recovers quickly, and you didn’t know whether the raw awe in his voice was part of the acting or simply just Gojo being himself. “-provin’ to losers than I’m yours is the best birthday gift I could get.”
The last thing you see is that tiny, curvaceous dimple at the end of Gojo’s grin before he’s smashing his lips onto yours. It’s messy. Disorganized. The very beginnings of a sodden French kiss.
Sheer teeth and lips and need as he suckles lightly on your lower lip, pearly white canines sinking in ever-so-lightly until you keen. Lost into the wolf whistles erupting from the party-goers - it seems to knock some sense into you two.
And Gojo breaks the kiss with a panting pah! sugary sweet taste of his birthday cake lingering on your tongue - over as soon as it started. “Happy birthday to me.”
“You are so corny-” you’re croaking, more so because you didn’t know what to say than anything. Because all your mind was whirling with weren’t words - it was the feeling of wanting more more more-
Shit. Your eyes widen, peering down at Gojo’s half-drunken gaze - even though you’re sure his lightweight self hasn’t had a single drink tonight. You wanted to kiss him more.
“I-I think I’m going to get a drink.” you’re mumbling out, hastily standing on two unsteady feet. Mere moments away from stepping into the kitchen - from making your escape - before long digits clasp around your wrist. With a plastered smile, you turn to Gojo, gaze flickering down between his begging eyes and that vice-like grip of his. “You need anything, babe?”
“Ah-” Gojo lets you go as if your skin scorched him - as if he didn’t even realize that he’d been holding onto you this way. “No no, nothing for me- don’t take too long, m’kay~”
Every step you take, Gojo’s watching after you like it couldn’t be fast enough.
Because after that? That kiss that had him feeling like a pathetically melty puddle of teenage hormones? Shit, he’s almost on the verge of getting out of his seat and running after you like a maiden himself-
“So…ugh- was that part of the truce?”
“Huh?”
“Was that- dammit, Satoru fuckin’ look at me- she’s not even in your line of sight!”
“Oh- what?” Gojo’s veering his eyes over to his best friend, gaze still trailing after you like a lost puppy even when he registers the other man talking to him. Your little audience had mostly dissipated by now, leaving him to act as much of a fool as his idol-like persona on campus didn’t allow.
Geto lets him stew in the strobing silence of the party music for a little longer, before heaving out a sigh that was much too worldly for a young man of twenty-something. As a younger sister, you really did give him grief - and he finds himself almost wishing he hadn’t interrogated Gojo after overhearing your strange agreement earlier today. “Man, you really are stupid, huh?”
“I know.”
“And this charade of yours is even stupider.”
“...I know.”
“And you realize that you might just be helping her back into the arms of that Sukuna all over again, right?”
“WHAT?” He’s so desperately loud that a few guests in the vicinity jump. But Gojo didn’t care - he didn’t give a shit about anything other than grasping onto Geto’s collar, shaking him stupid. “Have you lost your mind- I’m supposed to be the nonsensical one in our duo-”
“I-I’m just saying.” Geto’s putting his hands up as if a shield, “Getting an ex-boyfriend jealous using the same man he was threatened over when they were dating? Sounds like the textbook recipe for jealousy sex if you ask me.”
Oh, Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone. Brows marrying together, he only wobbles his best friend harder. “B-but no- that can’t be- they hate each other, don’t they?”
And, ah, he hated how Geto always knew what to say.
Hated how he already knew by the devilish curve of Geto’s lips that nothing that was about to fall out of it was going to do his sanity any good.
Gojo flails, “No wait-”
“Don’t you two claim you ‘hate each other’? And yet, here you are.” Geto’s patting his best friend on the back as if consoling him, shaking his head with the patience of a mother with a few problem children. “There there, you complete imbecile. Now you might want to stay here sulking with a singleton like me, or- you might want to go over there and avenge the honor of your fake relationship, because I see an ex-boyfriend coming in hot.”
“What?”
He’s jerking his head around so urgently that Gojo’s vision blacks out for a bit - and that’s exactly the excuse he’ll use for years to come when he shoots up to his full height. Snatching a glass of liquid courage from Geto-
“Satoru, that’s-”
Knocking it back within seconds before storming off to just where he could just peak your beautiful self in the kitchen being crowded by Sukuna. That adorable furrow in between your brows betraying your thoughts, lips moving furiously with a frown.
“Do you think he knows that what he drank was just water and not alcohol…” Geto tilts his now-empty cup at a lounging Nanami nearby, head bowed like he couldn’t give a single fuck if this party burned with him in it.
“No.”
“Do you think he realized the ‘jealous sex’ was a bluff?”
“No.”
Geto lets out a slight huff of laughter, “And do you think he realizes that more than one person in our group knows it’s pretend?”
“No.” Nanami didn’t care if he risked sounding like a broken recorder, after spending almost a decade with you two dancing around each other, he thinks he’s owed that privilege at the very least. “I don’t think he realizes that had your sister so much as looked his way, let alone date his sorry self, then the entire campus would have been hearing about it for the past month.” For the first time since he’d found himself accidentally dragged into Geto’s conversation with him, Nanami raises his head to catch the tail end of Gojo’s lanky legs disappearing into the kitchen. “After all, Sukuna did break up with her because they were in love with each other. Just too stupid to see.”
Now, you might not exactly be his yet like he’s wished on every single birthday candle since he was six - but Gojo Satoru was to be damned if was going to let any other bastard steal his fake girlfriend.
“Sukuna-”
“Awww…what happened to ‘Kuna’, baby?”
You snort, arms crossing over each other while you fixate your glare on Sukuna’s leering form. God, the kitchen just seemed too small for the two of you. “I think you lost that privilege when you dumped me.” Attempting- failing - to sidestep, “Now if you’d excuse me, my boyfriend is-”
Scoffing, “Girl- what boyfriend?”
Sukuna looked to be on the very verge of laughter, and you were on the verge of breaking into a nervous sweat. He’s rasping out a rumbling snicker at that look on your pretty face, “Oh come on, now- you can’t really expect me to believe that sorry excuse of a kiss came from the same man that’s been wantin’ you for years, right?”
Shit.
Wait…years?
Your fingers curl tighter around the beer bottle, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
And you watch as Sukuna’s mouth drops - now fully laughing in your face. “Damn- not even a hint? You really did downgrade after me, ma. At least I was honest.”
“Honestly an asshole, that’s for sure.”
But the rest of your fire swims down the drain as he inches closer. And closer. Heat radiating off the rippling muscles of his body when a big, beefy arm of his cages you against the polished marble counter. Head inclining slightly towards the door, “Well- why don’t you and I-”
“Take your fuckin’ hands off my girlfriend.”
“Satoru?”
But the sight you’re met with seems anything but - gone is that softly teasing demeanor, vanquished is Gojo’s easy smile. His pretty features are twisted into such a feral snarl; and where his tone was ice-cool, his eyes were blazing with raw fury.
Gojo looked like he didn’t even hear you as he echoes, “I won’t say it again.”
“Well alright then, Mr. Boyfriend.” Sukuna lets go of the cool counter surface with a knowing chuckle, walking horrifically towards a seething Gojo himself. The two stand eye-to-eye, glare-to-glare. “Are ya sure you and your third-rate acting wasn’t interrupting anything between myself and my girlfriend?”
“Satoru, ignore him–” You’re pleading, trembly voice jolting Gojo out of his hypnotized stupor, and making him drag his heavy legs around to you. Fuck, that was close. You didn’t know what-
“That’s right. Comfort your friend the only way you know how- s’not like you can do anything other than pine for decades until the next one comes around to steal her away, anyway.”
CRASH!
In a split-second, Gojo has Sukuna pinned against the wooden cabinets by his cotton shirt. Ego and desperation wafting from the two men as his feet dangle a few centimeters off the floor. Gojo had his teeth bared - eyes wild, looking like he was seconds from foaming at the very mouth. And Sukuna’s own lips quirked upwards into a grin.
“You better watch your fucking mouth.” Gojo hisses.
“You wanna tell her or should I-”
“What is happening here-” Shoko’s sharp voice snaps the three of you from your little bubble of violence, and it’s like all of a sudden the music and the party comes pouring back into the kitchen. Strangers and friends alike hot on your heels to watch the drama unfold, being pushed back by a frantic Haibara. “You’re acting like children.”
Sukuna shoves the other man off of him, and makes his way out. “Well, I know one of us hasn’t grown up.”
And Gojo is just about to stride forwards- until you catch him with a hand hooked around his elbow. Feeling the washing sense of deja vu from not too long ago. Hastily spitting out, “N-now- oh! Look at that, let me get that bruise cleaned up-” There was no bruise, and there was no reason for you to drag Gojo from the kitchen as fast as you did. Yet, you did anyway. “We’ll be upstairs–”
“Man…Sukuna.” Geto whistles lowly, watching you lug his 6’3 mess of a clingy best friend up the stairs and into what he assumes to be Gojo’s bedroom. “I know you wanted to set them up together badly but wasn’t that a little much?”
“Oh shut up- I don’t give a shit if they get together or- or if she’s happy or not.” he gruffs, stalking off.
Yet, Geto guffaws at the angry rouge that colored the very tips of his ears, and the slight wobble in Sukuna’s lower lip when he stops to watch you two make your escape.
Yeah. “Didn’t give a shit” his ass.
“Ugh.” Utahime rolls her eyes, signalling at the DJ to raise the volume on the music just a tad louder. She had a dreading feeling they’d strangely need it. “Men.”
.
.
.
Ugh, men.
You roll your eyes, the soft pads of your fingers tracing over where Gojo’s knuckles were slightly reddening after knocking against the cabinets. You were only glad that it didn’t escalate into something even worse - damn this stupid idea.
“I’m sorry.”
Gojo breaks the thickened silence between you two, his sullen voice echoing across all four wide corners of the master bedroom. But all you can hear is the thundering of your own pulse when he blinks his eyes up at you, “I didn’t…didn’t think it would go this far.”
The two of you are sitting on the edge of his king-sized bed, practically sinking into the plush mattress. And you can’t help but notice how much the room smells like him.
“Ah, well- y’know…” you’re trailing off, and the way you look at him - so soft and raw will forever be etched into his honeyed mind. You were comforting him…what a night. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. B-beside- it’s over now, isn’t it?”
He can only nod.
And you feel your fingers twitch where they were cradled in his much larger ones. Fuck. Here goes nothing…
“So that means I have to hold up my end of the bargain now, doesn’t it?”
Oh.
Gojo blinks.
Oh.
“Wait- so was it the body or the char-”
“Unless you finish that sentence right now. In that case I’m never speaking to you again.”
And shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut Gojo Satoru up then you’d have been wielding this power much, much sooner. Breath hitching when his plump, pinkish lips instantly zip shut, and he’s scrambling off the bed to kneel in front of you.
Kneel.
Gojo was kneeling in front of you, knees clacking to the floor so hard that you think it must hurt. But all that he wears on his expectant face is the rosiest of blushes, and the slight pucker of his lips when he leans in. “I-I’ll shut up- but can I have my kiss now?”
You couldn’t gift an answer even if your dizzy mind could somehow conjure up one.
Because with the slightest nod of your head - barely motioning even a few millimeters - Gojo’s crashing his lips onto yours like he was starved.
Like he didn’t want to breathe - didn’t need to - when his mouth was meshing against yours. Addicted from that faux kiss downstairs. Keening out a low whine at the very back of his throat, he’s gulping in steady heavals of your essence. Greedy hands circling your body-
“O-oh shit.” he kisses, mouth parting from yours ever-so-slightly because fuck, he had to breathe. But he’s completely and utterly sure that he could die happy right here and right now, lips firmly pressed against yours.
You’re half-heartedly sputtering, “We should– the party–”
“D-don’t talk to me about a fuckin’ party, pretty.” His teeth pull lewdly on your lower lip, “One more- that was a practice run. O-one m-”
This time, it’s you cutting him off.
Swallowing up the rest of Gojo’s sentence and forcing his body to wreck with a sudden bolting of lightning. And Gojo swears he tastes heaven on your lips, thumbing open your jaw further to pry out your lolling tongue and suck.
You moan out what sounds like a slurring string of his name over and over - praying that these walls were as soundproofed as they looked.
Fingers nimbling their way over to the first few open buttons of his shirt - the very graze of your skin down his burning one sends shots of electricity down Gojo’s body. It makes him jolt. It makes him drag in a heaving lungful. It makes his heavy palm drop its way to the curve of your ass and squeeze.
“Wait-” he’s drunken. Seething. Silvery strings of rope snapping in the heady lack of space between you two when Gojo pulls away. “-what’s it that they say- one more for luck?”
One more. And another. Another. Another and another and it’s still not enough even when Gojo’s mouth was throbbingly red and raw from crashing against yours, whimpering at the slightest wet glide of your candied lips across his.
Meshing in a sodden pucker he’s trailing his plumpened lips down the splatters of dribble that’d made its way down the corner of your mouth.
As lazy as his hands were, long digits drawing circular massages up, up, up your thigh. You’re gasping when the fat curve of his thumb nudges in through your drenched panties, drawing a sopping wet line down your teary slit.
“I think…” Cutting himself off to let his tongue slide out and lick a languid stripe down your drivel. “...think I needa hah- kiss those other lips of yours for good measure, sweetheart.”
Oh.
Fuck.
He looked like he was seconds from drooling at the very thought. Nervous energy bleeding into his words, making them sound almost like a whimper. Gojo Satoru wasn’t asking - he was begging on his knees right before you to eat out your pretty cunt.
Sharp inhales being sucked through his drunkenly parted lips when you slide your fingers through his sweat-soaked hair and pull. “Th-then you better make it worth all the trouble, Toru.”
Oh, his head tumbles backwards at the sound of that nickname on your lips once more.
Chuckling - chuckling - all humorless and crazed. Bleary eyes locked on you and only you, he doesn’t move them a singular inch once all the while dipping his fingerpads into the hem of your panties and pulling. Dragging out the drenched excuse of your panties, they’re splotching a glistening coating of your sweet, sweet juices down your thighs.
And Gojo only turns to look once he brings them eye-level - up to his face and-
“Toru, you’re so nasty–”
“Ya think?” Gojo huffs out through the slicked-up fabric of your underwear, breathing in your essence like it was his favorite scent. And you swear you catch him sneaking in a few droplets of your syrupy juices that splatter onto his mouth. Groaning, “Oh, sweetheart- m’gonna make you realize just how nasty I really am.”
Without any apologies, without any warning, your thoroughly hypnotized self is being shoved down roughly onto the mattress. You bounce a few times against the navy sheets, legs hiking up on autopilot - exactly the way that Gojo wanted them.
You really were made for him.
Mewling, “Wh-what-”
“Shhh sh sh-” he’s whispering out in ragged rasps, still pressing a few pretty pecks against the mound of your translucently glossed panties. It was taking everything in him to part- to set them down…Well, perhaps not that far. Gojo stuffs your panties mindlessly into the back pocket of his pants, tongue swiping a moisturized coating over his lips when he takes back in the sight of you. “M’talking to her.”
All splayed out on the bed for him - it was like all his dreams materialized into real life.
Literally.
“Oh, look how wet she is–” His creamy fingertips push up your dress to make such a slurring mess all over your pursed lips. On purpose. Swirling the edge of his manicured thumb over and over in the tiniest of circles over your pulsing clit. And Gojo snickers at how greedy she was for his attention…how cute. “-whaddaya think she’s ngh- tellin’ me, pretty?”
Rubbing your fists over your eyes, you’re seeing stars when Gojo’s rude digits give your clit a sudden pinch. “I-I don’t know–”
“Awww- are you sure?” You’re being showcased the most innocent pout you’ve seen him plaster on his entire life, lower lip jutting out and looming so dangerously close to kiss the drizzling trail at your puffy folds. “Because she’s so talkative to me- might jus’ be nicer than you.”
You wish you could snap back as you usually would - oh, how you wish.
But you’re sure that any and every noise that showers out from your dazed mouth wouldn’t even be heard. Because for one infuriating time in your life, Gojo was right.
Those sugar-coated squelches from your dripping cunt replayed in your ears over and over. Every teasing pattern of Gojo’s fingertips has you rambling in a saturated song that sticks to your ears like cotton. And Gojo couldn’t get enough.
He couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t falter no matter how much he wanted to keep up this ever-cracking facade of being suave. Heeding to practically every word from your pretty pussy when his heated mouth gruffs closer and kisses you.
Slow. Filthy.
“T-Toru–” you’re whining, your fingers entangling with his snowy locks. And no matter how hard you tug, Gojo doesn’t move even an inch. “-make sure you ngh- b-breathe- fuck-”
“Don’t need to..don’t- don’t need it…” Gojo’s slurring out into your saccharine pussy lips, intentionally dragging out his words so that they vibrate all down your spine.
Button nose massaging against your ample clit, the decadent room rings! with a sultry squelch. And you’re peeking down at that sinful sight of Gojo’s tongue smearing your puffed-up pussy lips agape. Swiping around and around the circular hole of your entrance before plunging in-
Oh.
Gojo looked like he was so in bliss.
Eyes sliding all the way to the back of his head with one taste of your bawling cunt on his tongue- shit. Shit.
Shit shit shit. He’s out of control when he gasps, two hands curling under and around your thighs to haul you down the bed. Maw hanging ferally open when he’s gashing your poor pussy with the most sodden French kisses - Gojo’s never kissed a person like this before. And he doesn’t think he ever will - other than you.
Doesn’t think he’ll ever feel as feverish as he does right now when he’s craning his deft fingers into his mouth. Sucking. Tasting. Each and every one with a messy pop! pop! pop!
He really was nasty.
You gape at the way your slick hangs all down his lips and coats a sparkling glaze that drips down his chin and forms a little pool at his neck. His collarbones. Trickling down with pearly beads of sweat that sift between his perky pecs so mouthwateringly.
“F-fuuuuck-” Gojo’s hissing, brows scrunching together like he couldn’t even believe what he was seeing. “You jus’ got ngh- wetter. S-so much wetter…”
It’s said like a prayer.
Like a plea because your cunt was driving Gojo crazy.
“It’s all because of ah- you–” You squirm at the way that these were the words tumbling from your mouth. And you already know that Gojo was about to tease you for this for the next few years - if he even remembered, that is.
Because just about the only thing that he can do right now is twirl the edges of his fingers over your winking hole. Once. Twice. Before feeding you inch by long inch of his middle finger - in your lusty haze you think you manage to count about six inches from his staggering size.
And it only had you imagining his size down below.
“Don’t squeeze around m-me- fuck who am I kidding-” Gojo’s sleazy pumps of his hand has your cunt slobbering all down to his working wrist. Adding in one more, two. “-drool all over me- make a mess- hah- fuckin’ ruin me.” Mouth bumbling a mile a minute when his drives build up sloppily, swiveling around your gummy walls to nudge over all your tenderized sweet spots. “Yeah- heh- yeah suck me up like that. S-such a slutty girl, aren’t ya?”
“S-stop being so-”
So what?
Talkative with your cunt? So greedy when he shovels his face back in between your tottering thighs? So heated when he utters. Like a death sentence. All that he could. “I-I can’t stop- do you know how long I’ve ah- imagined this? Dreamt of this?”
Your palm constrict on his silky strands and Gojo’s so pliant when he lets himself be rummaged even deeper against your pussy. So ready to be used. “Th-think I like you better when you ngh- shut up–”
And even through it all, Gojo finds it in himself to roll his eyes - though, you think it’s a way to disguise the way he’s agonizingly swimming in euphoria more than anything. Chuckling out wetly, “Th-think I like it better when you’re ah- actually on m’tongue and n-not jus’ in my fuck- dreams when I have my cock in hand.”
Shit.
He’s so shameless.
Fingers jackhammering in and out in and out in and out-
“Where is it-” he’s spitting out into your squirming pussy, the lower half of your body being pinned to the mattress with one of his strong arms. You’re feeling the way his biceps bulge against your skin. Getting faster. Faster. “-where is it where is it where-”
“What are you even ngh- looking for, Toru?” you’re crying out - it was all so much now. So close.
But the only answer you get are your ankles being tugged to wrap around Gojo’s fervent head, pinned with one hand behind his back. “Lock it.” Keeping you held there until the ends of your feet knot as vice-like as possible to mash his face into your drooling cunt.
Gojo wraps his rose pink lips around your weepy clit and sucks through furrowed brows when his thorough digits surge upwards at a bruising pace into a bulbous magical spot. That spot.
“Found it.”
And you find yourself cumming with such a loud yelp of Gojo’s name - throat rubbing sore with every peak of your high. Your orgasm crashes into you over and over as he laps up every bead, every splatter, every drop that you’re giving.
And he’s still parched.
Spitting out a wet slew of saliva into your quavering hole, Gojo’s making such a mess of you. Absolutely ruined when he sucks up every wet smear that waterfalls from your cute cunt - so thirsty.
It’s only when your high has died down to a few tingles, when your limbs twitch with overstimulation, that Gojo finds himself pulling away. His lips stinging rawly, nose slicked and dripping with your sweet, sweet juices - you’re hearing the most pained grunt from between your legs as he pulls away.
It hurt him to.
“Oh, w-would ya look at that—”
You weren’t sure if you trusted him enough to look - already knowing that whatever it was would have your mind reeling.
But how could you not when Gojo’s fat fingertips squeeze your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, opening your glazed mouth just wide enough for him to salivate. A thick wad of spit hitting your lolling tastebuds, his thumb swipes over the stray slops that’d made their home on the corner of your slack jaw.
He grins, “I said look, sweetheart…”
Groaning, your eyes blink downwards - and you weren’t even sure what you were witnessing at first. Not even sure if you were daydreaming - because Gojo had his black dress pants unbuttoned. Shoved down until his thick, milky thighs just enough for you to witness his massive length.
Yeah, his fingers were definitely an indicator of something.
Because Gojo was so big that you felt nervous. His length swollen and thickened to an incredible girth. All pretty with a red, rotund ruby tip that blushes a cute strawberry pink all the way down, down, down until neatly trimmed tufts of white at his base. Saddling his tight, hefty balls that looked much too heavy.
He made your mouth water.
But that wasn’t all - no, what really catches your eye and snaps you from your orgasmic haze and into a half-lucid state were the creamy rings upon rings that laminated his shaft. Frosting-like dredges of cum sliding lazily down his angry cock, spurting out a few more from his weepy divot at the very end at your unwavering attention. Did he-
“Yes.” Gojo gasps out in a condensed puff, his voice sugary and embarrassed. Shit, did you just say that out loud? “I-I came just from…you’re just so-”
Damn, he curses his stupidly babbling mouth. So drunk on you that he can’t voice all the sinful thoughts sprinting through his melty head right now - all the thoughts that have been already for years now.
It was impossible - even for his big fat mouth.
So without another word, Gojo tuts as he’s rolling his shoulders as if on instinct to pop a few joints; in one, fluid motion your body is being sidled into such an easy princess carry.
Patting you down right into the cushiony middle of the bed, he looms over you - stalks over to you. And you can’t deny that the absolutely feral smile twisting his features makes your cunt twitch.
“Too many clothes.” Gojo tugs on your dress - that darkened glint in his eyes not boding well for you or-
RIP!
-for this dress.
At the sight of your jaw dropping in adorable surprise, he chuckles out a rough, “Don’t worry- I’ll buy ya that again. I’ll buy ya the ngh- whole fuckin’ store jus–” And oh with a few masterful flicks of his fingers on your bra, you’re left in nothing underneath him. Nothing to hide your perfect body away from the way he was fucking you with his half-lidded eyes. “-just let me f-fuck this cute cunt, please?”
It takes you a few sloppy seconds of Gojo nibbling down your neck for you to realize that he’s waiting for you. For anything.
Huffing, your shaky fingers clench around the glaringly open lapels of his button-up. “S’unfair th-that you’re the only one in clothes-”
And, well, who was Gojo Satoru against you?
You’re demandingly helping him shrug off that branded shirt, buttons hitting the ground, his pants hitting the floor-
“Whoops.” Gojo grins sheepishly when his pants and those tight boxers collapse onto the floor in a tatter of fabric and your panties. “Jus’ consider it a uh- birthday gift, pretty–”
No longer having his flaps of fabric to reel him in by, your fingernails dig neat little patterns of crescents on his heated skin as you drag him down to you. Heady breaths mingling with one another, “You said no gifts, remember? If you ngh- really want those panties- y-you’re gonna hafta earn it, Toru.”
And earn it he will.
Because as soon as the bulging spherical shape of his fat head swipes a sopping kiss down your pussy lips, you feel yourself already moan. He was so hot.
Already so pussydrunken when he says, “Hope ya don’t mind–” Teeth sinking into your tender earlobe, “-this is my first time.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
You barely even have the mindpower to register those words before you’re being split apart - gasping at the almost-unnatural feeling of being so thoroughly full. Of having our steamingly hot insides being fucked open with just the simple tip of Gojo’s staggering cock.
“C’mon- c’mon–” He’s lunging up in slow, mindless gyrations trying to force his thick length inside. Powerful arms keeping your wrangling legs spanned wide open for him, they barely even let you budge. Biting down on his lip in frustration, “F-fit inside- shit, your pussy’s so tight, sweetheart– s’it too big for you?”
Stubbornly, “No-”
And Gojo only has to glissade the curves of his palm down to that inflationary nudge of where he was drilling into your cunt. “No?”
“...no.”
Pressing down. Hard. “No?”
“Fuck- yes- you’re just too big-” And you meant it as a complaint - you really did. But those words only have every ounce of blood remaining in Gojo’s shivering body galloping down to his gluttonous cock. Pushing at the seams to make him expand even fatter, bigger- “Why are you getting bigger?”
Shit, you really needed to watch that mouth of yours.
Because it has Gojo’s hulking body falling onto two elbows on either side of your head, like a heavenly cage you didn’t ever want to get out of.
Sweat-simmered forehead bumping into yours, you feel his large fingers interlace dangerously on top of your head. “You need to-” He’s crashing his lips against yours in such a filthy open-mouthed kiss. “-s-stop talkin’ outta ya ngh- pussy. Leave that to her.”
Her.
And you’re so utterly distracted by all his little ministrations that you didn’t even realize the way he was snugly fitting himself into your cunt.
The stretch is impeccable when it hits you like a train at full speed, feeling the tiny nooks and crannies of your magical spots being brushed up against the thrumming upright curve of Gojo’s cock. He’s leaving no millimeter of your elastic walls unturned, unstretched. Untainted.
Gushing out a sweltering hot wave of buttery pre that sloshes all the way against your womb. “Oh- oh what the fuck-” Gojo hisses, chest heaving. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have wondered if he was in pain. “-what the fuck- th-this is what you feel like?”
Right - shit. In all the chaos, you’d forgotten those words he’d confessed just earlier - Gojo Satoru was a virgin. Because of course, he was. Don’t make him laugh, who else would he have ever wanted to see him like this other than you?
A virgin that was currently pacing his slender hips back and forth to instrument the most syrupy squelches from the very gooey bottom of your cunt. His drooling mouth spreading wider and wider with every sultry half-thrust.
You mewl, “H-how does it feel, Satoru?”
“I-I feels so- so–” But the words are failing him - the words are escaping him with every gummy squeeze of your walls like you wanted to swallow down more and more of his solid inches. And hand on your hips swirls your hips around ever-so-slightly to feel his sobbing tip paint tiny circles of gluey precum inside you. Gojo snaps his eyes open - wild. “-is it even l-legal to have ya cunt feel this good, sweetheart? This- oh! Heavenly?”
And he was sounding genuinely concerned. Genuinely worried for his sanity once Gojo manages to feed your needy cunt all of his length.
Now in.
Fully.
And it feels too good - too blissful to have almost every single prayer in his life finally answered that Gojo can’t help but scrunch his eyes shut and cum.
Loudly. Pathetically.
One hand dancing downwards to give your plump clit a punishing little squeeze as if it was your fault. The other curling around your throat to have you meshing your mouth with his panting one, you can feel it in the vibrations how his voice cracks at the very same second your gooey cunt is filled with such copious dumps of his seed.
There’s so much.
As if he’s cumming and cumming harder than he has in his entire life, every splatter of stifling hot cum managing to paint the bullseye of your g-spot in pure white. Ounces of his seed creaming around his hefty base, it smears and slide around your thighs as Gojo continues to fuck you into the mattress. Pound after pound that make him see overstimulated stars.
And it makes Gojo giggle - giggle - head lolling deliriously into the crook of your neck, now covered in a slather of his drool. Every slow ram into your splurging cunt has him grunting out the tiniest ah! ah! ah!
“Shit- fuckin’ embarrassing-” You hear him groan into your neck, licking a languid column from his tongue before biting. Hard. Hard enough that you’re wondering whether he’d draw blood, “Can ya believe- s-saved my virginity for the ngh- girl of my dreams n’ m’cumming already~?”
He leaves a few final pecks against your lips, “Th-this pussy’s got me too haaaah- addicted, pretty–” As he’s moving to part sloppy ways, you’re gasping at the splatter! of something warm. Wet. And only then do you register the literal tears crinkling at his eyes from overstimulation. Crying.
“A-are you okay– Satoru?” You’re whining, limp fingers skimming away the strands of white that cling to his prespired forehead.
“No.” Comes the answer, comes the heaving gasp when Gojo’s fatigued limbs force themselves through his trembling muscles to heave back upright. “One m-more. That was a practice run.” Throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, you feel his flexing deltoids underneath you when Gojo brings one ankle up to his mouth and kisses. Muttering - more to himself than anything. “B-but m’gonna make y’feel good- oh- fuck- m’gonna make you t-take this big cock.”
His words have you just as stupidly fucked as his fat shaft does.
Those lightning bolts of his veins thump down the upperside of your goopy channel, massaging your sweet spots over and over and-
“Th-think it was here-” Gojo’s palms feel everywhere and anywhere down your tummy for the vicious back and forth of him inside you. To feel that bulging opening, the way your snug channel clenches every time his bouncy tip recoils back from your cervix. Wanting more more more- “-or w-was it- here.”
“Fuck!” The entire expanse of your spine arches off of those thoroughly and filthily dampened sheets now, meshing up sluttily into Gojo’s body until his prespiry-glossed abs cushion your front, plush pecs so comfortably collapsing on top of you. “There- there there hngh- more-”
“More-” Gojo chuckles, hitting that precious spot over and over. His chubby head mashes in slurping soppy collisions until he was out of breath. Dizzy. “More she says- Greedy girl, wh-when you have me already ngh- dripping out of you. Shit- squeezin’ me so. Oh-”
And his vigorous fingers scoop up such lecherous volumes of his own milky cum, toying with the gushing waves of white your poor pussy leaks with every pound.
He’s bullying them between your lips - cerulean eyes dilating, mouth sagging unsealed when you eagerly suck on his digits. Tasting his candied self, tasting you. Somehow managing to muffle out, “M-m’not greedy.”
Gojo can only grin, “S-say that to me when this oh- cunt of yours isn’t sucking the fuckin’ soul outta me.”
And Gojo would love to tease you more for this - to mouth away for hours on end into your ear about how drenched you were getting and muse out loud whether you’d dreamt of this just as much as he has, too.
But instead, he’s pecking a flurry of lovely kisses all down your face. Gasping into your lips, “M-move that pretty hand f’me-” So rudely swatting those fingers of yours that’d snuck their way down to toy with your neglected clit, Gojo’s taking over himself to rub steady, methodical circles. Thumb peeking pressure on the hood of your clit just the way he’d read online. “-I’ve always w-wanted to ah- do this. To fuck you raw. T-to ruin you and ngh- fill you up-” As his words spill, so do a few ropey wads of pre. More. Frequent. “-a-and eat you out all over again. See how you taste like mine…”
“Y-you’re gonna-” You can’t even bring yourself to say it. “Again?”
“Of course, sweetheart- why? Scared I- oh.”
That’s when he does it - the mistake of peering his barely-open eyes down.
His weightily smacking balls that smooch against your ass with each thrust clench oh-so-painfully at the vision of your puffed-up pussy lips gaping around him. Drooling. Swallowing. Accommodating his ruthless cock for all you can, practically broken in half and still yearning for more.
Shit, the sight’s so hypnotic that Gojo doesn’t even realize when he’s letting his thoroughly overwhelmed body lock into yours like a puzzle piece. So hefty and sculpted.
His abs practically melting into your body, and his sloppy hips pistoning into you even deeper. Harsher. Every raring grind of Gojo’s lengthy shaft probes into your g-spot so hard. Like he wanted to leave widely battered bruises of his circumference on your sweetened spots, your cervix, anywhere and everywhere he could reach. Like he couldn’t stop.
Doesn’t even know the very word right about now in this filthy, filthy mating press. “C’mon- c’mon one more for ah- luck?” Whimpering, “My sweetheart, I-I’m gonna-”
Gojo sees white when he cums once more this night - and you do, too.
You’re not sure if it’s because of the violent streaks of electricity that run down your entire body, or because of the treacly spurts of cum that overspill from your poor cunt. But fuck- did it feel so good.
Your entire body tingles all the way down from your toes up to your bleary head - and the entire room feels like it’s fucking spinning at this point.
Black tinging your vision with ever overfilling thwack! of Gojo’s tight, cum-filled balls as they empty out, out, out into your depths. It’s coating your insides like a sticky second skin, leaving stringy drizzles of seed seeping from between your slit. Adding to the ever-growing puddle before.
You’re feeling it swashing around you with every drivel of his hips. Overstuffing your elastic walls until you felt like they were about to burst.
And all you can do is simply grapple your nails into the bulging muscles on Gojo’s back, whimpering out a broken, “T-Toru–”
“M’here I-I’m here–” Yet his voice sounds airy, hitching like he was on cloud nine. A beefy arm wraps around your body and manhandles you close to him like some sort of ragdoll, “M’here- shit-” His lips graze against yours in what you assume must be a kiss, too oversensitive to even perk his head up and peck you senseless like you knew he wanted to. “Never lettin’ ya go- haaah- never- ah-”
Whatever promises Gojo always imagined whispering into your ear can be said and done later.
Right now, the only thing he can streamline his body into doing for him is to search blindly for his discarded pants by the side of the bed. Searching for that bulge in the back pocket- no, not the panties he’d swiped right in front of you - instead, he’s feeling for the shape of his wallet.
Pulling your tired body back into his, Gojo’s carding it lazily open to show you that.
Exactly what they were talking about.
Splayed out proudly in the front and center of his wallet was a picture of the two of you. Years and years ago exactly on this date, the aged photograph showed a smiling Gojo Satoru in front of a candlelit birthday cake, tiny cheeks all pinkened. A small, surly you standing by his side - eyeing his Digimon hat more than you were eyeing the camera.
But that didn’t matter, because Gojo wasn’t looking at the camera, either.
He was looking at you - exactly the way he was right now.
Glowy eyes half-lidded, a mysterious little smile playing on his lips. Gojo nuzzles his face against yours and breathes out a tiny, “I…I might have loved you ever since then, y’know that?”
You’re gasping, eyes shining with…something. And Gojo’s heart stutters as he wants to find out. Wringing your hands to wrap around his broad chest, you’re coiling your legs together until you’re unsure where one ends and the other starts.
Whispering three lovely words into his ear - and three more into the honeyed air.
“Happy birthday, Satoru.”
---
Gojo’s one wish was to wake up next to you - like this. Under soft blankets, with your sleepy breath puffing softly into his collarbone, your body tucked safely into his.
And he never wants to let go - could never even dream of anything that could ruin this precious moment-
“Mind explaining who ordered wedding decor last night on MY account?”
Ah, that would do it.
Bleary blue eyes wrench open, taking Gojo every shred of will in his body to not jolt at the unwelcome greeting of Shoko peering down at him…while he was all wrapped up with his best friend’s sister in a bedroom that could almost be mistaken for a crime scene.
Would it really be too late of a birthday wish to hope that she hadn’t noticed your tattered clothes on the floor, the ruined state of the sheets, and the way that the bedframe sagged suspiciously on one side?
Gulping, he’s pressing your body even tighter into his, careful not to let you stir - well, at least it couldn’t get worse than this-
Footsteps.
Close.
And an unmistakable few voices - and laughter. “Is that my sist- SATORU, YOU BASTARD-”
“Eugh.”
“WHAT did you blackmail her with?”
“Woahhh- congratulations on your relationship!”
A/N. Lowkey has the spirit of a crackfic, I fear. This was SAUR fun.
Plagiarism not authorized.
I'm going insane for them
Pairing: Connor x Fem!Reader / Nines/RK900 x Fem!Reader
Series Warnings (18+ only): Smut
Summary: Misbehaviour needs to be punished, and if that means chasing you down and railing you in the back of a car, you’d better get washed, waxed and ready to go, because Connor and Nines are already on the hunt…
Remember: Watch out for the gearstick.
AO3
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PINK BOWS | NANAMI KENTO
syn. your boyfriend is scared of intimacy, but for all the reasons you never expected.
── virgin!nanami kento & fem-bodied!reader, established relationship, panty kink, masturbation, sexual fantasies, accidental vouyerism, etc | 3.1k words ( minors, ageless & blank blogs : do not interact )
note. a fic i found in drafts that i never got around to posting.
Nanami had been raised to value his future career-wise over all else. Taking his parents’ teachings to heart, he solely focused on his career, making sure that he followed the path to becoming someone who was financially stable and didn’t need to stress over bills and obligations. However, that seemed to be the only merit to it— not having to worry and being able to live a lavish life. They didn’t mention the exhaustion he would experience, putting excruciating hours in working behind a desk. They didn’t tell him how robotic it would feel to wake up for most days to get ready, go to work, and come back home at late hours to only eat takeout and fall straight to sleep.
Barely a social life because all of his friends and the people close to him are always busy and when they do have the time, he unfortunately doesn’t. It was such a period of lonesomeness for Nanami, surviving but never really living. It wasn’t until a rare occasion of getting off of work early that he found himself in a bar, hitched up at a stool and slouching over the counter with a glass of whiskey nestled in his hand. He let out a deep sigh as he felt like this is the most rest he’s gotten ever since becoming a salaryman. In his blue button and animal print tie, he loosens the decorative piece and unbuttons the first few of his shirt as he slouches.
The sound of jazz playing through the speakers and the voices of other customers piling in on the Friday evening. He’s unaware of the pair of eyes that have settled on him this evening, the fine dime that watches two seats to his right. In a cute black backless dress that hugs every curve, you admire the blonde beauty that seems so exhausted. The way he composes himself, you can tell that he’s a reserved man and if anything, you’d have to be the one making a move on him. In your hand, a Sex on the Beach, the fruity drink gets disposed of in a few chugs before you’re standing on your heels and pulling out the stool right next to him. The scraping of the chair legs finally calls for his attention as his chestnut-colored eyes come into view.
He wonders how you were able to do it so quickly. The many times he’s been approached by women in the office, he was always quick to turn them down. However, with you, he didn’t feel that inclination to deny you. You spoke as if it was your right to have him, the way your eyes twinkled as you smiled up at him and started an easy conversation beginning with a simple “hey!” You had so much charm to you that it loosened him up, and while you carried on most of the conversation, he found himself deeply captivated by you as you were him.
At the end of the night, both of you exchanged numbers. You gnawed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering to his with a desire that he wasn’t used to seeing. You started to inch closer in hopes of something more, but you felt his body tense up when your lips ghosted him as you stood on your tippy-toes as he backed away. He cleared his throat, quickly dismissing the failed kiss and bidding you a farewell. “Have, uh— have a lovely night,” he stammered out before his leather shoes clicked on the hard concrete and he turned his back on you.
Leaving you alone in the chilling night, you were grateful for the lack of people to witness your embarrassment before your heels clicked against the sidewalk as you walked in the other direction. He remembered feeling such guilt for leaving you hanging like that, and he felt anger within himself for doing the same to him. He’d love to have a taste of those plump and glossy lips of yours. Do they taste as sweet as you look? However, that curiosity died as his anxiety overcrowded his brain and spoke against his better judgment, his mind chastising him for a week as he stared at your phone number, neither one of you having the strength to message first.
It’s pathetic how he deprives himself of something— someone— he wants. Someone he needs. Because only the heavens know how much Nanami needs this. Thankfully the gods listen to his pleas and his incessant whining, granting him the courage to finally message you first and ask you out on a date. It took you a couple of hours to respond back, debating with yourself if you should really go out with a man who backed away from a kiss. However, you figured that you were only being too fast and he wanted to take things slow.
He took you out to a food mall, a large building backed with restaurants, bakeries and cafes all in one setting. It proved that he was truly paying attention to you when you were droning on and on back in that bar. Dressed in a pink sundress that flowed down your body, each strut you took had Nanami mesmerized when you got excited and ran off to look at something. Your eyes would sparkle as a worker would come and hand you a little skewer to try. And for once Nanami was happy with his job, grateful to be able to spend ample of money on a pretty thing such as yourself. He didn’t care how much he spent on you, as long as he got to see the way your eyes lit up as you beckoned him to follow right behind you.
Winning over each other’s hearts, you placed the titles of boyfriend and girlfriend on each other. Nanami was content with it, happy to spend time with you— to hug and hold you close whenever you came to visit him and vice versa. However, while he was complacent in the place where your relationship stood, you weren’t. When you finally managed to kiss him, they were always a peck and never lasted for too long, and even when he held you, that felt awkward.
You could never rest on his lap, your head always against his chest. When you tried to deepen the kiss, he’d always pull away. Dammit, when you tried to take it even further, thinking that you were ready to sleep with him, he’d always break that sexual tension that lingered in the air, cutting his visit short.
He treated you so well in almost every aspect except for the ropes of intimacy. Were you doing something wrong?
—
Nanami felt guilty for how he’d pull away, and deny you of what you wanted. He really did, but you really didn’t understand what you do to him. He felt weak and pathetic about how just being in such close proximity to his girlfriend made him feel. How his cock would create a tent in his pants and he struggled to conceal it. How had you not noticed? His body would shudder every time you tried climbing on his lap, his entire body stiffening as you’d do so. When you tried to deepen the kiss, he felt like he was a high school boy again, near to releasing in his pants. Things would escalate and he was afraid of the possible embarrassment he would feel for his inexperience.
He should know better. He should know that you, his sweet little girlfriend, would always be so understanding and love him regardless. Something that he shouldn’t be so ashamed of. What was there to be? For you to know that your boyfriend loves you so much that he finds your presence to be an excruciating turn on? That a simple peck on his lips drives him crazy? That a single hug made him want to devote the rest of his life to you? He knows this conversation will happen sooner or later. But, for right now, he’d prefer it later.
Standing outside your apartment door, he unlocks the door with ease, pushing it gently open. Your car’s not outside, but you should be home soon according to your work schedule. He had forgotten some work from his last visit, wanting your company while he caught up on the tedious workload, but ultimately forgetting it by the time that he left. Entering your small abode, the chill of inside greatly contrasts the heat of outside as he shuts the door behind him. He kicks off his shoes, a habit of his as he makes a beeline straight to your bedroom. Your bedroom door is wide open and he can spot just what he needs right on the desk that he claims as his own as you barely use it.
He reaches for the stack of paper when he takes notice of a flimsy piece of fabric lying on the ground. Letting go of the documents, the sound of his footsteps echo through the room. Bending on his knees, he picks up a pair laced white panties with a pink bow right at the center. It has pink trimmings and in Nanami’s hand, they feel silky to the touch. He curses to himself for this type of intrusion. You’ve come to trust him so much to give him a spare key to your apartment, but here he is violating it to hold your dirty pair of panties and having the nerve to get hard while he’s at it.
“Fuck,” he curses, looking at the crotch of your undergarment to see a dirty patch of your discharge. The way he can feel his cock strain in his khaki work pants makes him feel embarrassed and dirty, his face heating up in a shade of red. However, he never throws down the flimsy garment. He doesn’t stop himself from bringing it up to his nose, taking a heavy waft to know what you smell like. The musky scent of sweat and the pungent scent of your discharge overflowing his senses is overwhelming, feeling how his cock twitches inside his pants. He lets out a stuttered breath, his free hand going to cup his erection in some sort of attempt to let go of some of the tension.
Veins protruding his hands as he palms himself, hands running along his girth. He can feel precum leaking from his tip. He hisses with how the urethra runs against the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs, wanting relief from its confined torture. He used to think of himself as a better man than this, a man who wouldn’t succumb to lust. However, the longer he withholds himself from you, the stronger the urge and his resolve is breaking— or, it has already broken.
He finds himself sitting on the very edge of your bed, toes curling as he brings himself to undo his belt, letting the buckle fall as he loosens it. He unzips his pants, providing further relief to himself before he’s shimmying out of his pants and underwear. His work shirt rides up, revealing the blonde happy trail that leads to his cock. A dark shaft in comparison to his bright pink head, it’s swollen with lust as he continues to drip of precum.
Nanami glances at the clock sitting on the ivory-colored nightstand. You’ll be back in less than an hour, which should be ample of time to get himself off before disappearing. He just has to make sure that he cleans up after himself well. His heart races at the excitement, which only makes him more turned on for this endeavor. Cupping his balls, he fondles them before letting your panties drop, them landing on his lap before he drapes it around his length. It looks pretty like this, he can’t help but think. He fixes the next hole down his cock before gripping the base of his length. Spit pools in his mouth before it lands on his pelvis, making him swipe the glob down. He smears it down his length, painting himself with the innocent body fluid.
The palms of his hand are cold, making him tense up as he hikes up one leg for the pad of his foot to rest on the edge of your bed frame. The metal digs into the heel of his foot as he sets a moderate pace, toes curling as he can only think about you. He imagines your plump lips wrapped around his length, taking him in so slowly as those beady eyes of yours would look at him so innocently. Batting your eyelashes at him while you have your mouth open, on your knees so pliantly as he guides his cock to your lips. Precum smeared over your lips just how you like to decorate your lips with gloss. They’d shine so beautifully and smell just like him, too. You’d work your mouth like a pro, taking him inch by inch and making his mouth fall open as he’d throw his head back.
This is all he thinks about when he’s pumping his cock, his grip tightening as he can only imagine. It’s shameful with how quick that coil in his stomach approaches, a choked up gasp leaving his lips as his cock twitch. His hold tightens around the base as he uses the next hand to cup at his balls with your panties wrapped around it. He can imagine you wearing these, how they’d hug you so cutely.
You’d be stripping out of your clothes slowly, in an effort to tease. They’d work, too. Shredding each layer of clothing until you’re in nothing but those same pair of panties before sauntering over to him seductively. And when you’re in front of him, forcing him to look up at you as you push him to lay down. You’d crawl over his body, your bare breasts hanging freely as you rest your ass down on his pelvis. You’d grind your hips so sweetly wearing those white laced panties, pink trimmings and a pink bow right in the middle, telling him to claim his prize.
You’d grind your hips amazingly, putting him in a trance as you have his cock aching for more than the rock of your hips. His fingers digging into your flesh before trying to bring you even closer to him. You’d manage to make him whimper out the most pathetically filthy whines and whimpers known to man. He knows it. He just knows it.
He knows it by the drawn out moan he makes when he releases on the white tiles, spurting out a load that should be stuffed inside of you. He throws his head back, nearly slipping off the bed before he catches himself. It feels euphoric to let himself go, to give into his cravings for you. If only you were here though, he sighs. It feels pointless to voice that if the person he craves the most isn’t here.
But, speaking of the devil, you’re parking next to his silver Lexus, your 2010 Honda looking shabby in comparison to the up-to-date vehicle that belonged to your boyfriend. You hum in content, your eyes lighting up in anticipation to see your boyfriend. Parking the car, you reach for your handbag as you climb out the vehicle. With the click of a button, your car is locked as you climb the two-story flight to your apartment. You’re out of breath by the time you’re in front of the door and fishing for the right key off of your keychain.
He promised himself that it would be quick, but Nanami’s still fucking his fist. His carnal desire for you pouring throughout in this moment, not hearing the shuffle of the locks from your front door. So absorbed in this lustful moment as he squeezes the tip, his fingers coated in his seed as he quickens the pace.
You can see his shoes resting in the right corner while you hang your bag on the rack and shimmy out of your cardigan, kicking off your flats gently. While he can’t hear you, you hear him— the deep sounds of his voice grunting and panting from afar. With furrowed eyebrows, confusion fills you before realization as you near your bedroom. The wet sounds of plat, plat, plat echoing as you take careful steps. Your heart races as your eyes widen when you take a peek inside of your bedroom to see the compromising state of your boyfriend.
Sitting on your bed with his pants resting a bit above his knees. His cock, spent as he strokes it. You can see the jagged line of his cum squirted out on the floor, strays catching his pants and the rest dripping from his fist. Arousal pools immediately as you silently watch, clenching your thighs together as you shuffle on your footing. You’ve been unknowingly holding your breath, your face heating up as you watch this moment. Your mouth dries up, gulping as your eyes flicker to his length as you watch his languid movement. His hip bucking in further need. It’s then do you see the strikingly bright shade of white and hints of pink, falling under realization that he’s jerking off with your panties wrapped around him. Shit, you curse as you start to heave. You cup your heat in need, thighs trapping your hand as you grind into your digits.
“Shit,” Nanami curses, calling out your name as he can feel his balls tighten and his legs stiffen. “Fuck, I need you.”
With another orgasm, it’s not as copious as the previous, the trail following a shorter path as he paints his hand in his seed. Hips stuttering, he brings himself to lean back, using his cleaner hand to hold up his weight to bring himself back to reality. A fog full of stars and ecstasy clouding his vision before it’s all cleared up. He thinks he’s alone. He thinks the coast is all clear until he’s sitting up and right at the door way you’re standing there. He gasps, calling out your name in shock.
You feel like a deer caught in headlights, but this is your apartment after all. Eyes dilated as your hand is still stuffed in between your legs, you let out a heavy breath. It’s nice to know that all your worries about your relationship seem to get relieved at this moment as you quickly become elated.
You start to saunter towards him, just as he envisioned. Only, you’re fully clothed when you push him down on the bed. His eyes widen as he calls out, “Wait. I—”
You cut him off, taking his cum-coated hand and bringing it to your lips. Tongue sticking out, you clean him all up and all his worries dissipate as he curses once more, fuck. “Whatever it is, promise that we work through it together, ya?”
Nanami nods, speechless and he puts all of his trust in you and his cock hardens again. He was a fool to be so worried. Finally, he’s able to mutter out a single word. “Yeah, okay.”
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The power of "I love you"
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x gn!Reader
Warnings: Pure Fluff
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*Cute little drabble, i’ve been thinking about him all day long (i always do)
Toji isn’t the type of man to voice his feelings. He really doesn’t like to express himself. He just hopes that his actions subtly express his love.
He doesn’t even see the point in saying those words. They’re three little words that don’t even begin to capture the amount of love that he has for you. Three little words can’t say that much. In the end, you know that he loves you, so he’ll just waste his time by telling you so.
But occasionally, he has an urge to say it, and the thought won’t leave his mind unless he says those three little words.
This time, he sits on the couch, playing his stupid game of Candy Crush. You’re planning on watching a movie, but you ended up wanting popcorn, making you get up from the couch and putting a bag in the microwave. He distantly hears the popping, and he knows that you’re awkwardly waiting around, watching as the bag spins. He slightly turns to look at you, and he chuckles when he sees you doing exactly what he was expecting.
He focuses on his game again, and he realizes that you’re back when you put the bowl of popcorn right under his nose. He didn’t even feel the couch dip. He smiles before he shakes his head.
“You’re so predictable.” You chuckle. He always rejects the popcorn.
“Am I?” He questions and you hum in response. He bites down on his lip for a moment before he blurts out, “I love you.”
You freeze in time. For a minute you stare at him, holding back a smile, before you put down the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. You don’t say anything, and Toji feels awkward. He can’t read you. He never can. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared to say a simple I love you. “Say it again.”
“Huh?” He furrows his eyebrows, confused. You don’t answer with words, instead you throw your hands over his shoulders and kiss his lips. You kiss him multiple times, laughing between kisses, and he laughs as well although he’s confused.
“Say it again, please.”
“I love you.” Toji repeats himself and you’re radiating happiness in a way that you’ve never shown before. Or maybe you have and he just hasn’t noticed. He just knows that he loves this, “I love you so much.”
Maybe those three little words aren’t all that meaningful to him, but they are to you. So he’ll voice his love more often.
❛ NEVER WANNA LOSE ME. ❜ t. fushiguro
☆ sum. for the hell of it, you let your roommate toji hit just once and he’s never been the same. what starts as a usual lazy smoke sesh turns into him wanting more than just to get high—he wants you.
wc. 6.4k
warnings. fem! reader, college au, toji & reader are in early twenties, vırgin toji, pússy drunk toji, mentions of pre-substance consumption, impact play, fıngering, squırting, praise, he finishes quick, dry humping, ōral (f! receiving), size kink, talking him through it, spıt.
virgin series mlist.
he’s never had a girl like you in his life.
with toji—he doesn’t do women. well he does, but not in that literal sense. he puts up a front whenever around his boys. little do they know he doesn’t know the first thing about a woman. he has little to no game, he’s a fake. a loser. but all of that changes until he meets you. you’re his roommate and the only person he can really stand. to toji, you were someone he could ramble to, someone to get high with and make fun of cheesy romcoms together. . like now.
“you always insist we watch this shit,” he huffs, leaned back against the couch. he’s got his legs raised over the sofa as he bores his stoic eyes into the screen. squinting at the cheesy subtitles on display, he takes another puff. “dunno why y’er so scared of watchin’ alien. now that’s a movie.”
“toji that’s boring,” you murmur, snuggling up close to him. he never really minded, it was always like this. he’s got a broad arm thrown over the back edge of the sofa as you’re leaned up against him. the both of you were blitzed, feeling a wave of euphoria surge through the both of you. the closer you got to him, the more you smelled him. god, that cologne—he practically pours it all over his body and it’s always so strong. toji could feel your head rubbing up against his wrinkled tank top before he glances down at you. “. . . your taste in movies suck.”
as you trail off your words, it’s a deadly awkward pause between the two of you as he just stares deep into your eyes. you wonder why he’s so quiet all of a sudden, why he’s just got that blank expression. but toji cups your chin, using a bare thumb to swipe against the inner crevice of your mouth. “tch. messy girl.”
oh.
you blink thrice once his thumb swiftly moves against the corner of your lip. it’s a subtle moment that’s seems way more intimate than it should of.
the dorm room grows substantially quiet and the only sounds that could be heard were the main characters of the movies talking in the background.
you never leave your locked gaze on toji and he gently rubs a finger near your lip. “you had leftover ice cream on your lip,” he utters, and you see his eyes flicker toward your mouth. so pretty, he thinks to himself. the way they curve and twist as you switch facial expressions. he’s sitting up now, taking in your face and could almost feel you lean into his touch. almost. a lump gets caught in the throat before he clears his throat, glancing away. “i— uh, sorry. that was stupid.”
you look at toji and his body language is different from how it usually was. he’s got a downcast pout, slouching back against the leather made sofa. cute, he’s blushing. you notice the way both temples of his cheeks burn and heat up and you raise a brow, scooting up close toward him. “it wasn’t stupid,” you utter, grabbing the remote and turning it on mute. with his burly arms crossed, he slowly stares back at you with a perplexed look. “toji. do you wanna kiss me?”
“what?” he blurts out a bit louder than he intended. could you read his mind?
he felt himself get hotter and not just his cheeks.
toji looks into your eyes, biting his tongue once he realizes you probably caught him staring at your glossy plump lips. he did want to kiss you. he wanted to kiss you so bad—he just didn’t know how to initiate, he didn’t want to just flat out kiss you or anything. darkened brows of his tweak into a relaxed furrow before he sighs. “y- yeah,” he gruffly murmurs, the steady pulses of his heartbeat growing faster.
“you could have said so,” you tease, leaning up close and wrapping your arms around him. he’s glancing at you, both of you had half-lidded eyes, pupils dilating full of sparkles and lust. toji awkwardly sets his hands aside once you straddle yourself on his lap. the thin fabric of his basketball shorts tickle against the undersides of your thighs before you plop down.
it’s so quiet, you scrape a thumb behind his soft undercut before leaning up close.
toji’s mind was going crazy. he was about to kiss you. he was about to finally kiss you. but there was just one problem.
he didn’t know how.
just as your lips were on the brink of planting themselves onto his, he whispers against you.
“w- wait.”
you pause, glancing at him. “hm?”
“i— um,” he looks away, that same reddened tint painting over his face once more. it’s so cute, out of the few years on campus you’ve grown to know this guy, you don’t think you’ve seen him in such a state. an embarrassed state. jade green eyes flicker everywhere around the room but towards you and he sighs. “i’ve never . . kissed before.”
a smile marinates against your features as you stroke a thumb near the scar that runs down the right side of his lips. “oh,” you hum, and he almost glares at you but remembers you’re literally sitting on his lap. toji holds back a groan, the addicting friction of your body hovering over him makes him start to imagine lewd things. he couldn’t help it, and the taunting stare you gave him only made things worse. “that’s okay, just follow my lead,” and the two of you lock eyes again. toji gives you a subtle nod before feeling you drag his hands toward your hips. “just hold my hips ‘n close your eyes, it’s okay.”
he doesn’t know if it’s because of the fact that he’s stoned out of his mind but you’re just so pretty.
you were feeling the mild after effects too, your eyelids felt heavy the further you leaned into him. toji’s big open palms cling onto your waist as you finally close the distance, pressing your lips onto his.
from first contact, he tastes sweet.
his lashes flutter close as he lets you control, gently moving your tongue against his. it was cute how awkward he was, toji didn’t know what to do. you heard him groan the moment you playfully suck against his tongue. every few seconds, he’d hear the sounds wet smacking coming from each mouth—how a bit of saliva would start to dribble down the side of his lips.
fuck, he tilts his head back, parting his uneven lips a bit further for you.
toji tastes minty, his hands find themselves roaming lower down your body as you teasingly grind more against him. he grunts, feeling you continuously meet against his bricked up friend.
he was hard—you knew that. it was poking at you underneath your shorts. a smile stretches on your lips as you deepen the hot steamy kiss, hearing the faint sounds of teeth clashing. he’s so hot, literally and physically. toji feels like he was sweating bullets when he really wasn’t.
he’s had countless dreams of this, of you.
the two of you would always get high together and chill, binging countless movies until the two of you knocked out. but now, it was different. you were making out with each other. it took you by surprise that he’s never kissed anyone—you sort of thought otherwise, especially with how he acts around other girls. of course, that’s all you really see. but behind closed doors, perhaps your roommate’s more different than you thought.
the passionate kiss accelerates further the moment you feel toji’s big hands creep near your ass. his fingers tug near the protected fabric of your shorts, desperate for them to come off. your repetitive swaying against his lap was damn near torture. he groans, finally pulling away from your lips to watch those glossy strings depart from each mouth.
“fuck,” he grunts hoarsely, his eyes darting back toward your sheeny lips. he’s already had a taste of you and he wanted more.
toji holds you firmly in place before leaning into the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss near your collarbone. “i- i want more,” he grouses, the tint in his shorts only growing larger. you felt it, all of it. with the way your hips playfully rubbed against the loose clothing — you were only fueling the fire. toji’s voice got a bit lower with its pitch and it was attractive with how needy was.
like he was desperately craving for this moment to happen.
he really was though.
you could see the look in his eyes - he’s hungry.
call it a little crush or whatever but he’s had his eyes on you for a while. toji was horrible whenever it came to feelings, terrible.
he didn’t think much of it, the two of you were just roommates who’d occasionally get blitzed together every blue moon. unless it was something else.
“it’s okay,” your breath hitch as you feel his soft lips assault near your neck.
he was gentle, coating invisible markings that stick against your skin like glue. your head slowly leans back as he starts to softly suck against your skin, keen edges of teeth tenderly tickling against your exposed flesh.
you were so sweet, it just wasn’t fair.
toji’s hands remain attached to your hips before he makes you lie back. you land backward with a little cute oof, glancing up at him as your back lightly hits against the cushioned furniture. “someone’s getting eager.”
“s- shut up,” he kisses his teeth, taking a good view at your body. so pretty, two words that he’s gonna forever keep repeating to describe you. toji couldn’t believe its taken him this long to get to this point.
truth be told, he was pretty shy. but now that you’re all sprawled and laid back, something ignited in him. he slowly spreads your legs with one hand, using a thumb to tug against the flimsy string of your shorts. you watch him intently, growing quiet — the room only fills up with noises of his soft feral pants. he peeps the little anklet that wraps around your ankle before he starts to pull off your shorts. “m- may i?”
“go ‘head.” you murmur, smiling at how he stops untying your shorts just to hear your permission.
your sweet words telling him to go forward, it’s all he needed to continue. callused fingertips pull down your shorts all the way until he’s met with your laced panties. god, he’s feeling a lump get caught in his throat. the way your panties stick against your thighs, how gorgeous the lace looked decorating against your skin, he couldn’t stop staring. .
toji inches his head down, going between your thighs. his hair - it was unkempt, he outgrew his hair within these past few weeks. it was cute, a few black strands of his reach near his shoulders.
he was really slow,
he’s pacing himself because he wants to savor this moment and your beauty. but to be honest, he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. toji brings a awkward kiss toward the center part of your panties, watching you shudder. “mhm,” a low gruff comes out of him before he looks up at you. “was that good?”
“y- yeah, toji,” you swallow thickly, a hand of your own finding its way into his tangled sable tresses. he looks at you, finding your combing fingers digging through his scalp somewhat relaxing. he’s ogling at you like he’s waiting for you to say something else and you giggle. “right, you probably haven’t eaten a girl out either.”
“shut up,” he grimaces, bathing in his own cringe.
it’s almost adorable. it was adorable. he leans into your touch, staring at your slick dribbling pussy. he’s so close, you could almost peep his mouth watering. “just . . tell me what else ‘ta do, please.”
your face softens at his desperation. toji’s bottom lip pokes out a bit and you inhale, ruffling his hair a bit.
“okay, just start slow. ‘s no rush. start near my thighs ‘n give it a few kisses” and right at your words, he begins to give your thighs sweet individual kisses. he’s fast, you almost let off a moan before sitting up. “good, good, like that,” and his eyelashes close, making sure to give everywhere—even the secret secluded crevices of your thighs all types of attention. your skin was lukewarm, and each time it goes against his skin he only wants more. he hears your body fall back, the sofa screeching a wail from the sudden weight. “n- now um, kiss around here.”
toji pauses, watching as you spread yourself open for him with two fingers. with enticed driven eyes, he watches as you play with yourself to show him what to do next. your finger points near a soft pulsing area—your vulva, you wanted him to kiss right there. it’s shiny, drooling down with your own slick and he only imagined what it tasted like.
what you tasted like.
he doesn’t say anything—instead, he lets his mouth do the talking.
toji’s watched more than enough vulgar videos on pussy eating to know which exact methods to do.
but still, this was real life and nothing was exaggerated. your sweet whimpers and moans were very much real. he starts by kissing around and near your vulva - slow sloppy kisses that make your thighs twitch and your toes curl. he then begins to stimulate your clit with his tongue, swirling it around gently and you moan.
“fuuuck. . jus like that toji,” you breathe, digging your teeth into your lip.
he was already a quick learner, despite having no experience with practically anything.
with one trembling finger, you lift up his chin and he leans into your touch once more. “eyes up here baby,”
‘. . baby,’
his dick immediately twitches from that simple pet name. viridescent eyes of pure emerald stare into yours before you push him just a bit closer into your soddened cunt. “flatten out your tongue a bit. ‘s okay to spit on it a little.”
his ears perk up a bit at your words. “spit on it?”
“yeah,” you run a few more fingers in his hair, delving them into his soft scalp. “make it wet.”
“fine,” toji mumbles, and as his tongue’s moving upwards against your slobbering entrance. he gathers a decent wad of saliva before he spits right on your pussy. a slick ‘ptui’ sound slithers from his lips once he does so—you’re already wet but doing so, it gets you even wetter. a bit of cobwebby lustrous strands cling onto his lips as he watches his mess trickle down onto your folds. he groans, watching the cute pulse happen right between your legs.
so sloppy,
he adores the sloshing squelches your pussy makes at the simple gesture. toji’s never tasted anything so sweet before. “ugh, good. like that,” you moan. as you’re praising him, you then start to feel the quiver in your legs quicken. toji stretches his long tongue even further inside of you—pointing his tongue in a certain direction as his head leisurely sways itself side to side. as you’re telling him exactly how to eat you out, he starts to suck. you whine, feeling his pursing lips clamp around your twitching muscle. it’s so good,
his slurps were so nasty and he groans from your noises alone. as he’s eating you out—he can’t help but jerk his hips into the sofa, getting off to your pleasure. panting, you drag his head up by the hair so he could look at you again. “ ‘s okay, toji. y- you can use a finger or two also.”
“ ‘kay,” he grumps, and he feels your eyes boring into him. specially, you were mainly fixating on his hands. his veiny rough looking hands. you found yourself staring at toji’s hands a lot. they were so big, so wide, thick fat fingers. .
maybe you thought about having them wrapped around your neck, shoved down your throat, buried deep inside your-
your short fantasm and lewd thoughts get cut off the second he sinks a single digit inside—his middle finger. you whimper, slumping back against the sofa as his tongue still flicks against your cunt.
“fuuuck,” you chew on your words, your candied whines only grow more elongated as he seeps deeper inside of you. you take his finger in freely, it’s a perfect fit. with a brief ‘pop’ he’s inside and he feels you trying to clamp ‘n squeeze around his finger. toji’s kissing against your cunt again, shaping his crooked lips into ‘o’ before nibbling near your clit. “oh my goddd.” you gasp, feeling the pressure amongst you increase. his tongue was warm—but with the mixture of his finger, you started to feel your thigh haphazardly bounce. he was still lacking in some areas but you didn’t mind teaching him how to improve.
slowly, he brings another finger inside and now your cunt’s trying to squeeze down two of him. your brows curl up in rapture whilst his tongue happily roams all around you. he’s lapping up his saliva, slurping yours, and spitting right back on it all over again.
“so fuckin’ good,” he groans against your damp folds, causing vibrations just from his mouth. hot pants of breath aerate against your skin. you were getting close, your body started to get more and more unsteady. as your back arches, you yank on his hair a bit. “ow,” he looks up at you with a snarl, but he has a sheepish grin. with toji’s thick twin fingers plummeting in and out of you, he bites down near the edge of your pulled to the side panties. “am i doin’ good, princess?”
“y- yeah, ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper in a shaky tone, swiftly dragging his head back and forth.
toji’s plump glossed lips smear all around your cunt and you moan. he’s so messy and his chin being smothered with your slick. it’s running down, and he’s quite literally drowning in pussy.
your pussy.
the points of his ears twitch at your words though once he comes to the sheer realization—you were about to finish. as you’re getting closer, your grip against his hair tightens. “suck harder toji, ‘s okay. use your tongue, baby.”
with open ears and a open mouth, he listens, closing his eyes once more as his swollen lips latch around your entrance. you bite your lip, feeling his scar brush up against your cunt and it tickles.
so soaked, his fingers continue to insert in and out of you and you’re a nothing but a whiny mess.
your moans bounce through the thin walls of the spacey dorm before he kisses your clit. “make a mess on my mouth,” he almost pleads, a slight tremor in his voice. toji’s so into it that he doesn’t he notice he’s still humping the sofa. he’s humping the pillow propped directly underneath him to be exact. sloppy feral thrusts—his boner was almost painful and he needed more. he felt embarrassed, getting off to your pleasure. your sounds only made him grind harder though, and he groans once you’re literally tugging his head back and forth against you. “c’mon, give it pretty.”
his hoarse voice had you drenched even more, you feel the sharp pang of nirvana jolt through every artery and vessel stored inside your legs before it happens. you came, you’re teetering against his face as your hips buck into his mouth. he’s met with a sweet taste in his mouth.
a taste from you.
it lingers on his tongue as he merrily laps it up, drinking you until you’re all clean according to his mouth. your eyes were murky and doe eyed—you were holding in a breath you didn’t even know you were keeping in. as your chest deflates, you let off a loud ear shrilling climax and toji snickers. so cute, you were a mess. he was an ever bigger mess since his jaw was rightfully locked and sore, precious slick smoothly cascading down his smooth chin like it was a stream.
“fuck,” you huff out, wisping a few crumped fingers through his hair. your hold on his thin strands lessen as you lean back completely dumbfounded.
“did i do good?” toji utters in a raspy tone, lapping a few remnants of your honeyed juices near your outer folds. he slides his fingers out of you only to lick them clean, right before your very eyes.
panting, you nod. “yeah, y- yeah, you did good,” and you watch as shifts, closing the gap between you both. toji sits up from between your legs, and he starts the kiss this time.
your hooded eyes collapse for a moment, closing before you return the sloppy kiss. you moan, relishing at the obscene taste of yourself that now lives on his tongue. it’s sweet, your tongue curls its way around his before he sneaks a hand down between your thighs. you whimper in his mouth, feeling his broad hand give your cunt a big squeeze. you twitched right in his palm and he groans. your noises only made him want you ten times more.
with loud smacks of lips smacking against each other, you make your way on top of toji again. he’s looking at you—panting just like you were. his arched brows compress together as he grabs your hips in place. “you’re so hot,” he exhales, immediately regretting saying that out loud. he sees the slight bashful expression form on your face before you pull on his grey shorts. “y- y’er gonna ride me?”
“yeah,” you mutter, playing with the hem of his boxers. your thumb glissades against it, so soft. it sticks out above his shorts that were merely halfway on. “can i?”
toji nods. “uh huh,” and the fucking boner he had.
you felt it earlier but you knew he was suffering. each second you spent on his lap, the worse it became. it was up until you successfully removed his shorts and you started to grind your hips against his hardened bulge. “s- shit,” he curses, his head immediately throwing itself back. you’re playing with him—swaying up and down his procreated shaft. toji clenched his jaw, a hand of his squeezing the right cheek of your ass. “fuck, ‘s not fair. y’ said you were gonna ride me.”
“i am riding you, toji,” you hum, still a bit shaken up from your most recent orgasmic release. toji narrows his eyes at you and you toss your arms over his shoulders. “see?”
“tch. y’er bein’ unfair, princess.” he scowls at you.
toji’s got your hips in his hands as he’s lazily sat back. his hair was even more ruffled and messed up from your hands yanking and pulling on it. a few black strands run down his almond shaped eyes, shielding his vision a bit. as you proceed to move and jitter your hips around him, you then feel a sudden damp spot.
toji freezes - you freeze.
right near the poking center part of his boxers, it’s a spot where his boner lies that’s dampening up the piece of clothing rather quickly.
with furrowed brow, you glance down—pausing your jerking movements before eyeing toji. “toji. did you just . . . cum?”
suddenly, he grows mute, fuck.
he did—you figured he was sensitive but you didn’t think it was this much. his lips twitch and he’s trying to suppress a moan, it’s adorable. toji wasn’t so used to such contact, he thought he’d last a maybe one round or two, but he wasn’t even inside yet.
his jaw tightens and you spot his veins pulsing out through his skin. you stare at the now grey wet patch that sticks onto his half on boxers.
“oh, toji,” you softly smile, feeling him abruptly bury his face into your neck. he’s still groaning. you hold him, feeling him shiver a bit at your touch—you weren’t used to seeing this side to him, ever. “it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s practically whimpering into your neck. his gruff voice made you pulse and it only got louder. “it happens,” and you feel the stickiness start to bedaub against your fully exposed clit. with a timid expression, you tug in the hem of his boxers. “do you still wanna-”
“please,” he finally speaks again, his voice cracking.
toji’s eyes meets yours again and he’s just longing to feel you from the inside. despite his pussy drunken state, he was so desperate. your teasing only made him ten times more feral. cringing at his own self, his eye twitches. clearing his throat, he helps you pull down his boxers. “eh, i mean yeah. ride me.”
you block your tongue down your throat to refrain from giggling before his cock finally springs out.
it’s thick with a bunch of girth to support it. you can’t help but openly gawk a bit. you figured he’d be a packer but damn. you could literally equate his shaft to the size of a beer can. multiple veins ran down the sides and his base was even fatter than his actual size entirely—not to mention, it’s so pretty.
toji’s angry mushroom tip was glistening with sweltering fresh cum. he’s made quite the mess from that you could see already. he’s got a pink tip with an even more pink cockhead.
his heavy base, it’s swollen and had a tannish pigment color his entire dick. you lick your lips, preparing to align yourself and he grunts.
“s- slow baby,” he murmurs, gently burying his fingertips into both sides of your hips. you give him a nod, leaning up close to his face. you could hear the crack in his voice again before a husky groan rip out his throat. you’re so close to his face that you can’t help but pepper a few kisses near his crooked uneven lips. “fuck, fuck me.
as you’re lowering yourself down on his cock, you let off a moan - and so does he.
toji’s eyelids grow more heavy as he feels himself disappearing into your welcoming sloppy cunt. as toji’s barreling his fat dick inside, he squeezes your ass, feeling your walls swallow and suck him in entirely.
you were so soaked—so soaked, clamping down on him effortlessly and you were barely even moving. toji groans, finding his teeth tucking their ways into the left part of your neck as he holds you close.
“my god,” he hisses, continuing to bury his weighty cock into your slippery cunt.
you were so loud, especially right between your legs. every few seconds you’d be filling the room with wet squelches, pops and pops of pleasurable whines coming straight from your sweet cunt. it’s a feeling he’s never felt.
this felt a lot better than pathetically stroking himself off with the help of some off brand lotion as a substitute. he cringes at the thought because he was finally feeling the real thing. “fuck, ‘s fuckin’ warm, princess. you feel so good inside.”
“yeah?” you pant, and you’re almost all the way in before you grind your hips just a bit forward.
toji’s so thickly built that it takes your body a few seconds to acclimatize. you could feel the bulky tip of his cock extend straight through your spongey walls and it felt so good.
too good.
you could almost drool, that’s how good it felt—
he had staggering jaw-dropping inches that easily stretched you out like your cunt was simply elastic. it had you yearning for more. you lick near his chin where a few dripping droplets of slick run down before you kiss the curvature of his perfectly chiseled jaw. “ ‘m gonna start movin’ okay, toji?”
“okay.” he intakes a single breath, tracing the heart shaped parts of your ass with his fingers.
raspy pants bellow out from his vocal cords in such a rough raw way before he hears the squish.
your ass plops down on his lap and your hips start to create haste. toji grinds his teeth together the minute you start to rut further into him—his head slowly falling back. his eyes were barely open and yet he’s still finding the strength to look at you, look at your pretty face as you’re fucking him stupid.
his mouth slowly opens but no words come out. instead, sweet moans of your name leave his lips and it makes your ears twitch.
toji’s fully in and you feel every inch of him.
you’re bouncing on his dick until your ass was hitting near the hilt, the swollen base of his shaft felt so full and he’s chewing back sharp breaths that try to leave his packed full lungs. his high shortly leaves him with a slight pussy drunken grin and it’s so attractive—
the way his crimson glossed lips appeared all lopsided and droopy, twisting nto a sheepish smile. you spot two visible dimples on both sides of cheeks poking out from his lazy feral half-grin. you even found it hot how every so often he’d flick his tongue near the scar that slopes down the right side of his mouth.
“fuck me,” he repeats, using both hands to make you bounce harder.
skin against skin, both bodies press and squish against each other, and rocking in rhythm and lustful harmony. both of you felt so hot.
scorchingly hot, his heat radiates off of you and you lean into his warm.
it was so hot that you felt like you were gonna melt right on his lap—being turned into nothing but a puddled mess.
you whine, feeling his reddened tip start to thrash against your most sweetest spots.
thwack after abrupt thwack, it was tender at first but now it started to become more sloppy, more sloppy and rude. his mushroom tip swirls around your gripping, coating your insides while leaving blissful french kisses so good that your toes curl up again. “f- fuck, ‘s good, makin’ me feel—”
and his words get interrupted once you stop his sentence for another kiss. “mmph,” he jolts back, speedily returning the sultry embrace.
he could never get enough of your taste, that was for certain. your honed hips continue to buck forward into him as he’s fighting dominance for your tongue—you reel into him continuously as your thighs start to feel a twinge of convulsions.
toji’s balmy breath collides against yours as you slowly pry open your mouth, swapping strings of saliva and lapping up the few remnants of spit that dribble down past the cracks of his lips. “ngh, baby,” he whines between kisses, and his voice softens a bit. it’s not its usual cocky tone. it’s more affectionate,
more tender.
toji can’t keep his hands off of you. as he’s breathlessly speaking between kisses—a whisper of murmurs, he starts to spank your ass. smack after smack, you moan once his palm swats against you, encouraging your hips to go faster.
he quickly gets addicted to the reacting recoil. it was just the way your facial expressions twist from each smack and your little gasps at the brief stings that live near the centers of your rear.
“harder toji,” you whimper, digging your knees more into his thighs. with how fast you were bouncing on his cock, you were already in a trance. a trance you never wanted to get out of.
“tch,” he scoffs, giving your ass another spank. then one turns into two, then three.
he likes the way the fat of your ass collides against his palm. it’s enticing—he stares at you before biting near your chin. it’s more of a playful nibble. dark pools of eyes meet yours and you spot them through your peripherals. you moan at his touch before he feels you push him further back against the sofa. toji looks at you, falling back before you take the wheel. “fuck, gonna make me cum?”
and you don’t give him a reply. he prefers it that way. your hips end up speaking for you and as you rock against him quicker, the sofa cries out a plethora of squeals at the pressures of weight pounding onto it. “yeah you fuckin’ are,” he groans, pulling at the right cheek of your ass.
toji’s still very sensitive from before, but with the way you’re moving and how good your ass throws itself around him, he knew he was about to get ten times more sensitive. he just knew you were gonna milk him, ring him draw. fuck, the thought of being drained by your sweet cunt left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. not only that, but toji felt himself salivating the more he imagined himself finishing because of you.
he lowly grunts, munching down on his lip as the core muscles in his washboard abs tighten and flex underneath his tank top. your cunt constricts around his shaft every single time—ravaging your swollen needy walls became something he never wanted to stop doing.
you were so warm, his cock reached very specific areas that made you whimper out his name over and over on repeat as if it was some sort of exaggerated mantra.
“tojiiiii,” you whine, feelings of lust foiling at your brain. with the constant tingling sensations of his dick stretching through you—you gasp everytime, hearing the lewd shakiness linger underneath your voice. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum too.”
“c- cum with me, pretty girl,” he pants, clammy hands of his pawing at your waist.
your body and the way it moved against him in such maddened rhythm had him entirely dumbfounded. his brows arch as he leans back, adam’s apple still bobbing all in his throat. toji’s cock continues to jut his dick way into your drooling pussy before you let off a looooong three second mewl full of concluding elation.
it lasts a long time, the feeling you felt as you’re losing yourself on your roommate’s lap—yet this time, your eyes widen once your thighs clench together before collapsing.
you’re dexterously sucking him in well before your climax comes again—but as you’re trying to focus on your breathing, you feel yourself spraying all over his weighty cock. sappy sweet juices pour down his base as your mouth cutely forms into a circular shape of surprise.
“ffuckk,” you curse, your voice pitching as you pulse all around him. your chaste clit swerves against him as you’re finally coming undone. it’s so much, you left a pool of a mess right on his lap and he was just luxuriating in your sweet filth.
but before toji cums, his bottom lip quivers—beads of perspiration sliding down the sides of his face. “can i- can i finish inside?”
with a numb cock-drunken expression, you give him a nod. “y- yeah, go ahead,” and you look into his eyes, whispering into his ear. “c’mon toji, ‘s okay. give it to me. you can make a mess in me too.”
toji hoarsely groans at your words, holding onto you tight. “fuck, keep talkin’ to me,” he makes you bounce harder on his cock, his muscles clenching at such sensations. “think ‘m gonna cum jus from your words, princess.”
“good boy. f- fuck, toji cum in me,” you teasingly lick near his earlobe.
he grunts at your playfulness—his cock reaching its very limit. he’s so full, his jaw feels heavy before you kiss his cheek. “wan’ you to cum in me. don’t miss, baby. that’s it, h- hold my hips like that, mhm.”
toji holds back a whine as you’re preparing to milk him for all he’s got—he hiccups briefly before it spurts out all at once. it’s much more intense from before. as if on que, toji finished a few seconds later. but once he finishes again, this time it’s not as quick as last time.
he shoots into you raw and it’s literally as if his life changed right before his eyes.
toji’s feeling your hips momentarily swerve and stutter in swift arcs before he’s dumping such a sloppy goopy load into your pussy. slimy stringy ropes trickle into you all at once, shooting right into your empty womb. it’s so much of a load that some of it spills past your saturated folds and down his base.
“s- shit,” he looks down, glancing down at his bushy happy trail through his low hazed peripherals. you’re running a finger down the thin stretchy fabric of his tank top as you ride him, toying at his curly minuscule hairs with your fingertips.
toji came a lot. saying he came a lot was a understatement, he came a ton. such ropes oozed out of you and it was such a pretty sight. for sure—it a lot more than last time, it spills so much that it creates a creamy milky ring around his base. with the both of you now cumming in torrent, you can feel him shaking violently underneath you. the warmth of your walls was something he never knew he needed more.
toji’s mouth grows dry as he reclines back against the sofa. the movie was well over, black credits of dozens of random names blurred on the screen and all.
you both grow quiet. your head presses against his chest— feeling a few strands of chest hair tickle against your cheek. his heart was racing, and it was all because of you.
you didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to move, because then his cum would leak out of you. toji liked the feeling of having you plugged full, your thighs—specially near the crevices and insides were all sticky and wholly coated with his velvety hot spurts of cum.
“f- fuck,” you murmur in an almost whisper, feeling one of his hands slide back toward your ass. toji’s matching your irregular heaving pants before he feels you trying to get up. “toji, let’s—”
“stay,” he cuts you off, and he’s got the most neediest expression. his voice was whiny, he swallows—more breathy pants leaving from him before he buries his face in your chest. verdant droopy eyes give you a long stare before he hugs you, strong broad arms wrapping around you. “i- i want more,” he shivers in your embrace.
you sit up and you thought he was leaning in for a kiss—but instead, he licks your bottom lip. “i don’t wanna jus get high with you anymore, i just want you. i fuckin’ need you, girl,” and you can almost see hearts in his eyes. yeah, he was whipped.
toji cups your face, his voice shaky and he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your palm.
“please. one more round, baby. i love-” and he cuts himself off, his eyes widening before he backtracks, his pout growing. “i need you.”
Scarlet Witch!reader?? Yes.
pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader
summary: after the loss of your husband, you come home for the first time since his death and memories flood back from your relationship. loosing yourself in your grief, you lose control.
a/n: based on that scene from wandavision- you’ll know the one. bucky and sam were never snapped. replies and reblogs are super appreciated!
word count: 3.7k
warnings: bucky died, difficulties dealing with loss, grief, just really sad, angst, mentions of blood, choking
masterlist || taglist
You felt numb as you twisted the brass knob on your front door. Although the door was no heavier than it had always been, it took every ounce of strength within you just to get it open and once you did, it took even more just to step inside.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bucky asked, grabbing your hand in his and pulling you back towards him.
You laughed as you collided with his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stared up at his smiling face.
“Inside our house,” You said. “to take off these disgusting clothes and relax.”
Keep reading
No one can make me hate you bachira
Bachira is obsessed with the way you’re obsessed with him. You cling to every word he says, everything he does.
You help him study for tests by reading out loud the material and do his homework for him, you are utterly pathetic without him and it makes him just a little bit more hot inside.
Every “where are you going Meguru?”, makes his baggy jeans feel so much more tighter, all of those small gestures that you do willingly for him without complaint makes it apparent how devoted you are to him in his mind.
You were the first and only girl to give him valentines day chocolates, and every February , without fail, you wait for him outside class to hand him a heart shaped box that is wrapped neatly with yellow ribbon on it.
The only thing you have to do is say: “-Meguru?” and he swears it makes him a little crazier than he already is.