⋆.˚⭒⋆.˚ WATCH IT!

1-800-HOT-N-FUN

───✦ DILF! GOJO X READER

♡ summary: it took a month and 3 days before your self-control snapped. who doesn't love hot dilfs!

♡ wc: 7.3k

♡ content warnings: fem! babysitter! reader, dilf! older! gojo, age gap, groping, pining, p in v, best friends brother (bfb), divorced, babysitting, mention of kids, breéding kink, big díck gojo, mating press, reader is down bad, fíngering, unprotected.

♡ a/n: freak week (ovulation) has had me in a chokehold…

Beautiful blue eyes, pure white hair, taller than you by a few feet, excellent bone structure, and drop-dead gorgeous. In your 14-year-old brain, he was the most gorgeous person you had ever seen with your own two eyes. He strutted across the spacious living room. In all the years you had been over your best friend's house, you had never seen whoever this man was in her house. You were almost angry she didn't introduce you sooner. 

“Who’s that?” you whispered, keeping your eyes on the unknown man sitting on the couch on the phone. He sat on the sofa with familiarity, lying on his side on the sectional. 

“My brother,” Utahime said with disdain, scoffing while flipping through the magazine. You looked between them, trying to find some similarity in their features. Maybe they looked somewhat related if you looked long enough, but that was stretching it. “Step-brother,” she answered. 

Nodding, you peeked back at her brother. He was better looking than all the male models in your magazine, which was now getting incredibly boring. “How- uh old is he?” you asked, trying to come off the least bit suspicious. She giggled like she was expecting you to ask. 

“20. Why? You got a crush on Satoru?” she whispered, snickering at you. Your hands quickly found her mouth, covering it just in case her brother heard. Something wet swiped across your palm, moving your hand back, you looked back in disgust, wiping the spit residue on your jeans. Sartoru’s previous conversation on the phone ended as he set his phone on the coffee table. “Well, that sucks.” She sighed, looking off, avoiding your eyes. 

“What, why?”

“Oh, I don't know…”

“C’mon please!”  you begged, coming up with the worst possible scenarios in your head. Is he gay? You could probably live with that. Is he a secret weirdo? That's okay, everyone is weird in their way. The worst possible thing could be that he's married. Looking off at his hand now wrapped around the remote, empty; good. He's not wearing a ring plus he's so young. 

“Well okay,” she grinned. “He's engaged, it's supposed to be secret, ‘kay?” In the 5 minutes and 37 seconds you have known of Satoru, your heart shattered. Your fantasy of a white picket fence, together married crumpled into a ball, and thrown into a fire. Staring at her in disbelief, ready for her to say “sike” but she never did, instead gossiping to you about Satoru’s secret relationship. Even though you were heartbroken from your extremely brief “crush” you couldn't help but listen. 

“Our parents really hate her, like seriously. Like three years ago, she came over and she and Satoru were alone in his room.” She looked around the room before standing up and gathering the magazines. “Let's go upstairs.” Nodding, taking your bag off the floor, anxious for the rest of the story. Both of you dashed up the stairs, Satoru looking skeptical of the two of you, your feet pattering up the steps. 

You sat on her bed in her room as she closed her bedroom door. “What happened?” you pleaded. What could his fiancée have possibly done to make their parents not like her so much? From what you've seen of them, her parents were so nice. They weren't even mad when Utahime failed gym, arguably the easiest class ever. She laughed, crawling on the bed towards you, lying on her stomach. 

“Alright, so my dad walked in on them and she had Satoru literally hanging out of his window.” You gaped, hanging off her every word. “They were arguing with Satoru for hours, even kicking Victoria out.”

“Is that his girlfriend, I mean fiancée?” you asked, happy at the sudden name drop. You were going to ask for her name anyway, but at least Utahime told you before you had to. She nodded, continuing on how he wouldn't tell them for weeks until he finally caved once they threatened to ban her from the house. 

“They were trying to sneak out to go to his friend's party. You know how my parents are, no way was he getting out, and he snuck her over. He ended up getting grounded for a month,” she shrugged. You almost forgot he was old enough to even go to parties, even worse, they had been together for three years. 

“Wait so why don't they like her?” You questioned if she was already not allowed before the window incident, what happened to make them not like her in the first place? She whistled looking around her room. She leaned in closer, lowering her volume. “I don't know much since they didn't tell me but from what I know they think she cheated on him a few times.” Your mouth dropped, how could you cheat on Satoru, your dislike for her grew, that was previously only based on “Victoria” being Satoru’s fiancée, was now fueled by the new information. “I know right! I still don't know if it's true or not, but they are engaged so they worked it out somehow...” She shrugged, rolling her eyes. 

“Woah, what are we gossiping about?” The bedroom door was open, with a very hot Satoru standing against the frame. It didn't seem like he was standing there long; at least not long enough to hear Utahime gossiping about his love life. He looked between the two of you before plopping on the bed. 

“Oh my god, you still don't know how to knock?” She face palmed moving away from him. He laughed, it was music to your ears, shrugging as he looked back at you. 

“Don't even miss your sweet big brother, you're harsh.” he sulked, wiping a fake tear from his dry eyes. 

“I've missed you oh so very much,” she said with faux enthusiasm, “Are you done now?” she sighed moving up towards the headboard and you. Even from across the bed, he smelled like vanilla, somewhat of cookies too. 

“Gosh, she's so mean, stay safe,” he warned looking at you. Your face heated up at him addressing you, he was so dreamy it was driving you crazy. “What's your name? Utahime is so embarrassed of her brother she didn't even introduce me. I'm Satoru,” he said, rolling off the bed, waiting for you to answer, but you were utterly speechless. Picking up on your situation, Utahime answered for you. 

Pushing Satoru towards the door, “Okay, get out!” she pushed trying to close the door on him, ignoring his constant pleas. 

“Wait- remember our deal right? I'll tell them later tonight, okay?” he said, holding the door open with his hands as her back was against it.

“Yeah yeah I remember to go now.” finally pushing the door closed, barely missing his fingers. Turning the lock, waiting to hear his footsteps go back down the stairs. “God, he is so annoying.” she groaned, swiping off her leggings.

“And hot.” you blurted out. She looked at you in pure disgust, putting her finger toward her mouth in a puking motion. She sat back on the bed, fixing the bedding that Satoru had messed up. 

“You're so gross, he's going to be back for a while because of spring break.” You nodded, making a mental note in your head to keep your hangouts at her house. For the rest of the afternoon, the two of you talked about mundane things before it was time for you to go home. Out the door, you took one last look at Satoru before leaving and getting in your parents' car. 

Every time you went over to Utahime’s house during breaks, the anticipation that Satoru would be there filled your stomach with butterflies. She often joked that you were only her friend for her brother; which was entirely false and she knew that. By the time you were 16 with a boyfriend of your own, Satoru turned into a distant crush and something to laugh about with Utahime. Once you moved to college, you assumed you would probably never see him again unless it was with Utahime back home, but he rarely came over after he got married. 

“I need a job,” you complained, sipping on your iced coffee that was becoming watery. Your last job fired you after ownership switched over and you were struggling to find a new one. The cafe was relatively empty, and was close to campus. You even tried applying here, but they denied your application. 

Utahime across from you perked up, “You remember Satoru right?” she asked, continuing to type on her computer. You nodded, he had become Utahime’s trump card whenever she wanted you to do something for a year and a half. “He moved around here recently but he needs a babysitter. He asked me but I'm too busy. Want me to ask? Pay is pretty good too,” She explained, telling you the days which were mostly weekends, Mondays, and Wednesdays. 

Your eyes lit up, the days fit right in your schedule and it wasn't for too long either. “How much and how many kids?” You asked, scrolling through your relatively empty calendar. 

“50 an hour and it's just one.” 

“Send me his number,” you replied quickly. You've had previous sitting experience so this should be a piece of cake. If anything, you didnt even know he had a kid, but it was kind of to be expected since he and his wife had been together for so long. Grabbing her phone, a message popped up on your laptop showing the number she sent. Immediately you added his number, preparing what to send. 

Your finger rapidly typed against the keyboard, rereading the message, making sure it was professional enough and no grammatical errors. The message was sent, and the delivered icon showed at the bottom of the text. “Wow you're quick, you'll get it don't worry. My nephew is good too,” she assured you, giving a thumbs up from behind her computer. 

Hopefully…there was no way you could go another week without some kind of income. 

Sighing, you got back to studying, keeping an eye on your notifications for a message from Satoru. The rest of the session went on with the hope of a response in the back of your mind, pushing you to study more to get it off your mind. The orange glow of the sunset radiated through the café's wide windows. “I'm tired, let's get back.” You yawned, stretching your body on the chair. Taking off your glasses to let your eyes rest from looking at the screen of your laptop for hours on end. You wore them for blue light protection, especially for studying on days like this. Utahime agreed, jumping up in her seat to start packing up. 

Gathering your things, and placing them neatly back into your study bag, your phone vibrated on the table. ‘Yep, it's still open! Would you be okay coming over sometime this week for an interview?’ Doing a silent celebration in your head, you responded yes, telling him you were free anytime this week. ‘Awesome, let's do tomorrow at 3!’ he responded immediately. Your fingers typed back, ‘Thank you, and see you soon!’. 

“Who are you texting?” Utahime smirked, peeking over at your phone. 

“Your brother. I have an interview with him tomorrow.”

“Congrats, make sure to not flirt with my brother.” she quipped, pulling her bag over her shoulder. You were laughing behind her. That crush was so long ago, that you were not going to flirt with your potential boss, especially not when he's married with a kid.  

Pulling into the driveway of the large house in front of you. There was even a fountain in the front! It was the address Satoru sent to you, there was only one car in the driveway, other than yours. Ringing the doorbell next to the large double doors with frosted glass. You could hear a bit of clattering and feet pattering before the door opened.  Staring at the older man in front of you, you're glad you didn't make any promises with Utahime. He looked as gorgeous as ever, probably even more since the last time you saw him was a few years ago at Utahimes 18th birthday. 

“You're here!” he said, opening the door wide, and leading you in. “You can leave your shoes here,” You took off your shoes, placing them neatly on the shoe mat. “Thank you. You can have a seat on the coach over there,” he pointed towards the living room on your right. He sounded somewhat the same as you remember, still a little boyish but more mature; sexier. The house was beautiful, almost more than it was outside. Walking towards the living room, I had a large sofa with a coffee table across from it and a massive television attached to the wall. 

Movie nights must be great. You wondered sitting on the edge of the plush couch cushion. It took a few moments before Satoru came back. “Sorry, my son just left, I was cleaning up a bit but I lost track of time.” He wiped off the back of his joggers, trying to look more presentable. “Alright, let's get started!” he sat down in a chair in front of you. He started asking you about your last jobs and handed him your printed resume showing all the job experience you've had. You were trying to pay attention to his questions, but your mind would annoyingly wander about how sexy he was. Every few minutes you would look around the room for family pictures. There was a painting on the wall but that was it. 

“My baby is my pride and joy. If anything were to happen to him, I don't know what I would do.” his carefree tone throughout the interview turned serious. You nodded profusely, your hands getting sweaty on your lap, your back straightening. “It's okay, no need to be so nervous. I've been trying to find a sitter for weeks, my work has been getting a little demanding.” he chuckled, giving you a thumbs up. “50 an hour Monday and Wednesday 6 to 10 and weekends 5 to 11. You're good, your resume looks fantastic. Do you have any questions for me?”

“How old is your son?” 

“He's 10 months old.” he responded with a smile, “He is so adorable, I can show you a few pictures on my phone. Sae looks just like me,” he said pridefully pulling his phone out of his pocket, his lock screen being a baby with white hair in a blanket asleep. He opened an album that seemed to be solely dedicated to his son. He showed you pictures and he wasn't wrong, the kid looked identical to him. 

“He's so cute, your twin.” You said staring at the picture of him playing with a toy set. He agreed, looking fondly at the screen. He handed you a paper schedule explaining that he would let you know if there were any date changes and that there was a feeding schedule on the fridge and where his food was. 

“In the packet, it has everything from his favorite shows to his nap times,” he explained, showing you around the large home. It was ardently clear his son was the light of his life, he had a 10-page packet front to back dedicated to his son. If anything it was a bit obsessive, but you could understand. Leaving your child with someone gets scary, and being there is important even if it's the exact spot of the bed the baby sleeps best at. 

Very thorough. 

“That should be everything, are you good this weekend?” he asked, with a pleading look in his eye. You were going to go clubbing but you can always do that some other time. Once the words yes fell out of your mouth, he gave you spilling out multiple thank yous. “You're a saint,” he said your name, the way it rolled off his tongue tickled your brain in a way it shouldn't. He was a very married man with a kid. Maybe your hormones were weird, he was completely off limits, and even worse, he was Utahimes brother.  He let you out of his tight embrace, his demeanor uplifted. 

“I'll see you this weekend!” he said, seeing you off to your car. You unlocked the car door as he opened it for you. You must be ovulating the way you tried to tear your eyes away from his arms traveling downward…”Drive safely.” He grinned watching you get inside the driver's seat. 

“Thank you so much for today! I'll see you Saturday.” Putting your car in reverse, you waved back at him as he walked back to the house. This job would take a lot of self-control, but you hoped once the kid was with you, then the professional switch in your brain would finally click.  

The next few days were a blur, Saturday morning, Satoru sent you a confirmation text, making sure you were still coming. It almost makes you wonder why he struggled so much to find a sitter. The pay was good and the hours weren't bad, even better, it's a. Utahime said he lived close, but it was almost a 30-minute drive to his house, so you had to get ready early wearing some yoga pants and a zip-up hoodie.

You sang along to the songs playing in your car as you drove damn near a half hour to Satoru’s house but it's okay at least his face made up for it.  When you pulled into the driveway, there was another car, other than Satoru’s. Must be his wife. You sighed, you knew at some point you would need to meet her. Even after all these years, you'd never seen her face, not even a picture. Getting out of the car, getting your bag, the thick packet tucked safely in a folder. 

“Bye, sweetie mommy loves you.” A woman with long hair bent down kissing the Sae on the forehead before walking past you completely. Satoru waved goodbye to her as she entered her vehicle. 

Satoru called your name as you looked at the woman in the car. Your imagination had come up with many possibilities of what she could have looked like, especially since Sae took after Satoru. His genes were strong as hell. She was beautiful and looked sophisticated, they were a cute couple. You were almost jealous but you had other things to worry about like your job. “Sorry, here I come.” 

He was already dressed in a business suit, “I have to go, but thank you and I'll see you at 11.” he rambled, giving the one last kiss, “I'll miss you so much, be good okay.” He gave you a final goodbye before rushing to his car. 

“It's just me and you.” You spoke to the baby who looked at you confused. “Oh right.” You introduced yourself to Sae who played on the strings of your jacket as you held him. You brought him inside, checking the clock, he still had an hour until snack time. 

You played with him on his building blocks until nap time. You were pretty surprised as he didn’t cry, he was a smiley baby if anything. He was literally his father's clone. Same eyes, hair, and even his chubby baby hands. No DNA test was needed for the father at least…mother was a different story. They had little to no resemblance; you almost questioned if she was the mother in the first place. Perhaps it's because you were used to Satoru’s face, it was the only one you could see. The baby started drooling at the commercials on the screen of his room's television; looking at the time, it was already snack time. 

Crouching down to pick him up, you noticed a picture on the diaper cabinet with a Polaroid picture of Sae, Satoru, and his wife. They looked like a happy family grinning ear to ear in the picture. You smiled to yourself, someday you did want a family of your own, but first, you needed to finish your last year in college and handle your job once you graduate. For now, all you could do was fantasize. Carefully going down the grand staircase with the child on your hip. 

You opened the fridge, it was packed full of healthy food, a few packed lunches sitting on the top shelf and baby food right next to it. Grabbing the unsweetened yogurt and a baby spoon out of one of the drawers. As Sae ate, you watched the sunset from the windows. After this, it would be nap time according to the packet, and a note stated that he liked to sleep next to someone. You giggled imagining Satoru lying next to Sae, both napping together, you'd bet Satoru had a picture of that too. 

Once he was done, you washed the spoon in the sink, rinsing the bubbles from the sponge and dish soap. Getting the baby from the booster, you took him back up to his room, sitting on the grey recliner next to the crib. Sae started yawning, lying on your chest, as a child show on Netflix played on the television on the wall. After the first episode, he went to sleep spittle pooling on your jacket. He was so cute it hurt. Seeing how he was today, it would be an easy job, the hardest part being his father. 

Grabbing the remote, you decided to put on one of the shows you were watching recently, you clicked on the guest account, typing the show into the search bar. Clicking play on the last episode you watched, skipping the recap and intro. The volume was turned down low enough that it would wake the little gojo lying on you, a blanket draped over him. 

Occasionally he would shift in his sleep, turning over onto your arm, giving you a little more room to move. Your phone rang on the table next to you, quickly grabbing it so it wouldn't wake the baby. “Hello?” you whispered into the phone, you hadn't even checked who the caller was. 

“Aw, you guys look so cute,” a familiar voice said over the phone, you could see he had a pout through the phone almost. You stifled a giggle looking toward the camera in the corner of the room, pointing at both of you. You waved with your hand. “Hello to you too, just checking in. It's nap time, so I assumed he was asleep,” he stated. You looked at the camera knowing he was watching through the cameras.

“Yeah he's been great,” you muttered, keeping the small blanket on Sae. You were becoming a little cold, your legs crossed to keep in what little heat you had. 

“That's good, I was a little worried he would be shy around you but you're getting along great. I knew you would be perfect.” Your face began to heat up from the compliment, but you tried not to take it any other way than professionally. “What are you watching?” he asked, through the phone, it sounded like he was in a quiet area. 

“It's grown-ish, don't worry I'm on the guest account,” you answered, Satoru chuckling through the phone. “What?” you questioned wondering what he could be laughing about. 

“Are you even old enough to watch that?” he joked, watching your reaction through the camera. 

“I'm 23, not 12.” You scoffed, your arms were becoming stiff under the baby’s weight. Gently you moved him to the side of your phone to switch places. 

“God you make me sound old,” 

“You're 29, that's not too bad.” You yawned. It was almost 9 and you were also a little sleepy, even though all you'd done all day was sit if you could even call it that, when it was so easy. 

“I'm surprised you remember how old I am.” You had a feeling he was about to bring up some embarrassing memories. “Oh yeah, sorry about today, I meant to stay a bit to make sure he did well but I got caught up with Victoria.” 

“No, it's okay I understand.” Your eyes watered from how tired you were. 

“Hey he's not waking up as long as you're under him, he puts me to sleep every time.” He said he heard the tiredness in your voice. 

“I couldn't do that, definitely not on the first day.” You pushed yourself awake. No way were you going to fall asleep on the job, that would be too embarrassing. 

“Whatever you say captain.” he laughed. “Oh, I have to go now, I'll see you late tonight if you're not asleep.” You were going to reply but hung up. Looking at your phone, you might as well check and see if anyone texted you. Utahime did, but you might as well call her, she is such a slow texter it'll take her 3 years to text you back. The phone rang 4 times before she picked up. 

“How is it going over there?” She asked breathing into the phone. It sounded like she was at the gym. You could hear Sae’s soft snoring, which you're sure was getting picked up through the phone. “Didn't admit your undying love for Satoru yet, did you?” she sneered. You rolled your eyes, if only he wasn't married. 

“It's going good and no, I did not. I just got off the phone with him before I called you,” you whispered, keeping the phone propped up on your neck. She whistled through the phone background machinery and chatter in her background. 

“At my party you couldn't even look him in the face, now you're holding this kid. Couple goals!” Utahime quipped before cursing into the phone. You tried holding in your laughter, kids without a nap weren't fun, and you did not want to see what Sae was like without one. 

“That's what you get.” 

“Shut up, this fucking stairmaster is hell.” She grunted, perceiving through whatever “hell” she was going through. You continued to talk to her about your day, keeping an eye on the time, and the sleeping child on your arm. Your bodies lay comfortably on the recliner waiting for time to pass and for you to get in your own bed. By the time you got off the phone with her, it was already 10:30. 

It was late so Sae was officially asleep for the night. Carefully getting up, you placed the baby inside the crib, laying on the soft mattress. 

“I'm home!” Satoru cheered, giggling at the keys from downstairs and opening the oak doors. Your stuff was already packed ready to go home and sleep. “I brought food.” he smiled, holding up a brown bag. You were going to eat a cup of ramen noodles at home but it wouldn't hurt eating here. It's free food! 

Settling at the island in the kitchen you climbed to the top of one of the stools. He pulled out two plastic containers of Chinese food, the aroma filling your nose. “Got it on my way back.” you waited for him to start eating first as he mixed the ingredients together. The food was surprisingly good and still warm, looking between your containers you noticed he got you the same thing as him. 

“You have good taste.” it wasn't just a compliment on his taste in food but rather everything from his home to his wife. Hell, he even had the good Q-tips. He perked up his brows furrowing as he swallowed the rest of his food.

“Where do you think Utahine gets it from,” he smirked. “If I didn't take over the business I would totally do that new age influencer thing,” he said, taking a large bite out of the rest of his food. You weren't even half finished. You knew his family was rich but nothing about a business. Maybe someday down the line, you'll ask for a raise. 

“What would your employees do without you?” you joked stretching your legs yawning into your hands. Finishing your food Satoru watched talking endlessly about his employees. One thing you did remember about Satoru was that he talked a lot. 

“Poor Ijichi needs a vacay.” he sulked, throwing the plastic containers into the waste bin. The conversation felt so natural and so comforting. It had been a while since you talked to anyone other than close friends. 

“You could send him on vacation.” he stared at you, considering your suggestion as though he hadn't thought about that. 

“You're right. I could.” taking off his suit jacket only wearing the white button-up. “Wanna help me come up with some places? I was thinking somewhere warm.” Alone with him any longer? Too dangerous. 

“Maybe next time,” you looked between him and the clock. The drive would be long enough to clear your mind of these indecent thoughts. 

“Oh right, campus is quite the drive.” he offered to drive you home but you denied getting into your car. The drive alone was something you needed. Wishing him a goodnight he watched you drive off your headlight illuminating the dark empty street. 

The next few shifts with Sae and Satoru became your routine. After a month you didn't even need to refer to the packet when it was time for the baby's bath time and which particular order to use his soaps. That small part of you sensed that innocent crush slowly resurfaced the more contact with Satoru. When his gaze lingered for a little too long you figured you were imagining it but some part of you wished you were right. He'd bring the both of you food at the end of your shift even sharing the rest of your food only after he finished begging for a bite even though it's the exact same thing as what he had. 

11:15 pm 

The jingling of keys opened the door carefully. “I'm home…” there was no response or patterning of feet coming down the staircase. Empty and quiet. Unusual. 

Going upstairs, Sae's room was empty and the light shut off. Worry started to fill Satoru’s mind. The house was way too quiet and you and Sae were nowhere to be seen. Calling your name frantically checking every room upstairs before going to the 1st floor. Turning the corner he was met with your sleeping bodies slump on the couch. Sae lay on your chest, he let out a long sigh, closing the call app on his phone. 

The image was too cute to handle, too domestic to think too much about. From an outside perspective, you looked like a mother napping with his baby. Quickly grabbing his phone without a second thought he took a picture of the two of you lying there resisting the urge to utter an audible “aww”. 

As cute as you both looked it couldn't have been comfortable. Silently he picked Sae up, taking him upstairs to his crib. When he returned downstairs you were still asleep changing positions curled up on the sofa. 

Picking your pliant body up holding you in his arms as he traveled upstairs. He debated between his room and the guest room. Currently, the guest room has been turned into temporary storage. His room it is. He tried desperately to ignore your hand that was grasping his chest. Carefully setting your body on his mattress draping the lush duvet over your body. Drool had slipped through your plush lips taking his thumb he wiped the residue going just a little too slow taking in how soft your cheek was. His thumb grazed your bottom lip, the corners of your mouth twitched making him retreat, yanking his hand away. 

Too close…

Looking down the imprint of his cock strained against his slacks. He was sleeping on the couch. There was no way he could lay in the same bed as you. He could barely keep his hands to himself when you sat across from him telling him about your day. Ever since the moment you stepped inside his home, he knew he had to practice self-control sitting in the car watching you through the security cameras as you walked through the house as you lived there memorizing the rooms no longer needing to wander aimlessly trying to find the bathroom.

Stepping into the shower connected to his room letting the frigid stream travel down his body trying to tame his hard-on. His mind started to race with the image of you with his child ring on your finger tied to him forever. The thought alone had him wrapping his hand around his cock in slow strokes. Depictions of you filling his mind the way your ass looked in those gray flare pants or how prettily your tits looked in a square cut top. It wasn't even that low cut, however, just the tiniest bit of cleavage peeking through. Suddenly his imagination conjured an image of you pregnant with his kid's stomach round and large. Spurts of cum splattered on the shower tiles. 

Fuck. 

When you awoke there was no longer a child lying on your stomach and you were way too comfortable. The room looks unfamiliar and the bed is too large to be your own. Turning your attention to the sound of a shower running and turning off. The room lights were dimmed making it easier for your eyes to focus. The door in the corner of the room opened and your eyes widened. Satoru stood there with only a pair of pajama pants on and a towel drying his hair. 

“Oh, I’m sorry-”

“No, it's okay I thought you were…asleep,” he said, opening a few drawers and grabbing some clothes. You watched him attentively droplets of water from his hair dripping onto the floor. The muscles of his back moved as he dug through the drawer grabbing a fluffy blanket On the nightstand, there was a framed picture of Sae dressed as an elf. So it was Satoru’s room. 

“Where are you going?” you asked as Satorg opened the door to the hallway. He looked surprised holding his blanket exiting the room. 

“Downstairs..” 

“Why?” pulling the cover off you got up your top it was hiked up showing a sliver of your midsection. “You could sleep in here,” 

“But you're in here?” You looked at him confused. You were both adults. There was nothing wrong with being in a room together, alone. 

“I have to go home anyway.” getting up, fixed the cover, pulling it back over the mattress. 

“It's already late you might as well stay here.” he protested he wasn't wrong it was already 12 and to be honest you really didn't feel like driving especially not when Satoru was shirtless in front of you a small blush tinting his complexion. “So it's settled, you stay up here I go downstairs.” 

“It's your room, I can't kick you out. Just stay here” 

“You're a guest, it's too uncomfortable for you to sleep there.” one thing the couch wasn't uncomfortable but sure it he insisted. 

“We can just sleep together then.” You didn't mean for it to come out the way it did, prepared to say never mind and beat him downstairs to reflect on what you said. 

“Okay.” you didn't expect him to say yes, thankfully (unfortunately?) he didn't take what you said the wrong way and climbed into the bed. He peeled the cover back, opening a spot for you to lay down. Lying down putting the cover over yourself staring at Satoru’s back in front of you. The only thing separating you is the console. The air was thick with heat, whether, from the heavy blanket or the tension between you, you weren’t sure. 

Your senses were hyper-aware of every crinkle in the bed trying to force yourself asleep. Closing your eyes but only images of Satoru’s bare chest moist and glistening from his shower. Your body was stiff against the bed hoping I'd you didn't make any movements the man next to you wouldn't notice how hot your body was growing or worse the heat developing in your panties. 

Swiftly Satoru turned over facing you, his cerulean eyes examining your expression. You prayed that in the dark room, he couldn't see the way your eyes traveled to his lips, they looked so soft, delicate. His body seemed a lot closer than when you first laid down if you focused you could feel the faint air from his breathing. You could move over and prevent whatever impulsivity that you would possibly regret. 

Your body inched just a little closer enough that you could see his individual lashes. They were long and full, guys always had nice lashes but his were as beautiful as the rest of his face, they complimented his eyes. So pretty. At least you ten years had taste. 

“You think I'm pretty?” he said staring back at you, you would've been embarrassed but you were too distracted by the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he spoke. “You're pretty too…” he moved some of your hair out of your face. You would really regret this later. 

Before you even realized what you were doing, you reached for him, your lips brushing his. It was tentative at first, just a small touch. But then Satoru’s hand found your head, and the kiss deepened, slow but undeniable. Your fingertips grazed his chest feeling the soft skin. His hands traveled down your bag, his touch electric against your skin sending shivers up your spine. Crawling onto his lap, your hands feeling to his skin every dip and curve. His hands wandered down your top slipping under to touch your skin. Your lips were intoxicating as he drank in the kiss pulling back only to breathe. 

His pupils were staring at your figure above him, he resisted the urge to rut his hips against yours for friction. Your hands were exploring his body groping wherever you could. The kiss was fervent basking in the way you tasted; you were so perfect. Suddenly you pulled back your face full of horror. 

“This is so wrong-”

“I'm not that bad of a kisser-” he grazed his lips confused. That wasn't the problem, he was good too good. If you didn't pull back now you're afraid you wouldn't have. 

“You're married!” you cried whispering so that Sae 3 doors down wouldn't hear. Satoru's face dropped into a look of humor holding a hand over his mouth. “This is not funny, I can't be a homewrecker!” you began to crawl off of him, tears welling in your eyes in the shame of the situation. His hand found you pulling you back on his lap. He held you tight in his arms, shushing your constant pleas. 

“I got divorced months ago,” he stated plainly, your body was still in his arms as he rocked you. This entire time it was one of the many reasons preventing you from pouncing on him. He cupped your face close to his pecking your lips, wiping the salty tears from your face. “Thought you picked up on that already, guess not.” pinching your cheeks you wrapped your legs around him. 

Now the only renewed fever pressing his lips onto yours. Your breaths came out sharp and unrestrained, your chests rising. Your bodies pressed flush, every point of contact burning, like you could consume each other if you would. His name escaped your lips in ragged whispers. Dragging your shirt off revealing the Victoria's Secret bra underneath. His hands wrapped around your waist keeping you balanced as he leaned back letting your hips rock against his. The fabric separating the two of you was becoming unbearable. Your clothes were too hot. 

Your fingertips traced fervid lines down his abs and abdomen. His hands swiftly unclipped the hooks of your bra letting it fall off your shoulders and throwing it somewhere on the floor. Flipping you over your body jolting against the mattress, hastily pulling off your leggings and drenched panties in one go. He pushed your knees back watching how slick spilled out your pussy. Taking a finger collecting some that was dripping down sucking in his finger. You were going to drive him crazy. 

Plunging his fingers inside your walls contracting at the intrusion sucking him in. The loud squelching of your pussy echoed through the room. You tried stifling your moans holding a hand over your mouth, your hips rocked back on his fingers as they roughly plunged in and out of you. You felt that tight core build up in your stomach until you came on his fingers, your toes curling in the air. 

He had you folded your knee and touch the bed beneath you, pinned to the bed as he cock aligned with your hole easing in slowly. You gasped, eyes rolling in the back of your head. The stretch was so immense it almost hurt but the pleasure was too good. Once he bottomed out he waited for your walls to adjust to him. He cursed, rubbing languid around your clit.  It was so hard keeping your voice in his agonizingly slow thrusts almost like he was testing how much you could take. Biting your lip keeping what sounds that wanted to escape your mouth in. 

“That's good, you're so good,” he whispered, watching how his girth stretched your cunt swallowing every inch. 

“F-faster- I can take it.” you moaned clenching around him desperate with more; as he pulled out glancing between your face and the soaking mess of your hole. Readily he pulled out before slamming into you knocking the air out your lungs. The pace was brutal. With every thrust his tip kissed your cervix, making him incredibly deep within you. 

“Shit don't look at me like that might want to put a  in you,” you were too out of it to tell if he was joking or not but you didn't care. 

“Do it!” You cried out his name, the weight of hips thrusting into your heat had your core building up another orgasm. His velvet voice whispered in your ear. Your mind was too cloudy to make out what he said, it didn't matter. You moaned out a hushed yes. 

The way your gummy walls wrapped around him he could stay like this forever, drilling into your heat. The way your tits bounced he could imagine them full of milk ready to be freed, the thought of a condom didn't even cross either of your minds. If he didn't slow down he'd paint your walls full of cum without a second thought. He muttered out praises drunk off your pussy. 

“Fuck- hngh I’m soo close,” you whimpered your hands gripping the sheets as his pace continued. Your walls constricted around him gushing on cock. Your body spasmed a silent scream leaving your lips as you came. He groaned at how tight you were making small thrusts letting you ride out your orgasm. Thank god he and his ex divorced. You don't know if you'll ever give up the high you're on. 

“Baby don't cry, remember you have to be quiet,” he wiped the wet tears from your eyes as he chased his own orgasm. His fingers left bruises on the back of your thighs keeping your body pinned to the mattress. His cock twitched inside of you, his cock pulverizing your insides. Little droplets of water dripped onto the mattress and your stomach, his hair still a little wet. Your face was so fucked out he couldn't help but stare drinking in your expression. “You can do it- hah I'm close.” he moaned, pressing your body further into the mattress impossibly digging deeper inside of you. 

“Don't pull out, ngh- cum in me please!” you pleaded your hands grasping his biceps, your doe-eyed begging him to cum your sweet pussy holding him hostage above you. How could he say no? Almost instantly with one last thrust, his cock punctured into your hole stuffing your insides. Your eyes rolled back the warm liquid filling your womb. It was so satisfying the little moans Satoru let out keeping your body in place as he came. 

“Don't move, I want to see how much you can fit. It'd suck for it to fall out.”

♡ gojopied ©2025 do not copy, edit, plagiarise, put into AI, repost, or translate any of my work.

Eepygumi

Never Ever Seen This Before!

Synopsis. There’s a first time for everything - including trying out dirty little kínks with them.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cóckwarming, mating press, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, marking, spitting, bóndage, spanking (Nanami’s), dynamics, degradation, cúmplay, squírting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. *sigh* can’t believe I deleted this before. If you know, then YOU KNOW.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Stay still, goddammit!

Was being stuffed full of your boyfriend’s thick cock at all times really too much to ask? You think not. 

Toji, however, really didn’t see the point.

“But, doll.” he groans, dragging his tip lazily in-between your swollen folds. And it was so sloppy - slick trailing down his length, smearing across the sheets. “Jus’ wanna fuck your pretty lil’ cunt.”

It’s not that Toji doesn’t like the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock. No, he loves it - is addicted even. And he loves it especially when you attack him in the morning like this - his pretty girl, all splayed out on her side, barely even blinking the sleep out of her eyes before you ache for his dick. 

But, really, what’s the use of staying still - he’d rather fuck you till you’re breathless and creaming around his cock.

“Toji, you promised we’d try. Jus’ want to be stuffed full of your cock.” you pout, batting your lashes behind at him. “Don’ make me go on a sex ban.”

Oh, you little minx. He knew all your dirty tricks - yet, fell for them each time anyway. “Fine. Then fucking-” he lifts your legs a little higher, hips pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Take it.”

You barely even hear the rest of his sentence because Toji’s immediately bullying his throbbing dick into your pussy. Pushing against the resistance as you struggle to take his thick cock, not stopping till he’s buried all the way in your wet cunt.

Smirking at the way you mewl and grind your hips back into his, he wraps two muscled arms around your waist, holding you still on his cock. Murmuring in your ear, low and gravelly, “Not s’pposed to move, doll. Remember?

God, he knows you feel the way he twitches inside your dripping cunt at the way you whisper out a shaky little, “Y-yeah. No moving.”

And stubbornly you grit your teeth, being able to do nothing more than clamp down so deliciously on Toji’s pulsing cock as you stay still, relishing in the burn of him stretching you impossibly.

And maybe it’s been minutes - or even hours, because God did it feel that way to Toji as he watched you being broken by the mere feeling of being split apart on his cock. Patience slowly waning, he snakes down a hand to your poor, forgotten clit. Index tracing lightly over the sensitive bud. 

“T-Toji what-” you immediately jolt, finally getting an ounce of the friction your cunt has been aching for this whole time. Mindlessly grinding into his erection - only to be stopped by a large hand on your hip. 

“No moving, doll. Remember?”

“But-”

“Didn’t say anything about playing with your pretty lil’ clit now, did you?” he hums, knowing you were playing right into his hands. “Now. Don’t move.”

Ah, you can do nothing but lay there and take it as Toji presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Fingers starting to press, frantic, hard little circles on your swollen clit. Over and over- Like he was fucking you with his fingers the way he couldn’t with his dick. 

Ugh, damn him. Damn him and his fingers that knew you so well.

It was maddening.

“Toji- please.” you sob out, powerless against the bruising grip keeping you in place. You wanted to move. You wanted him so bad. 

“‘Please’ what?” he grunts. Clearly torn between focusing on drawing steady, agonizing patterns on your clit and fighting that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy over and over. Not stopping till you were cockdrunk and crying to cum.

“Please just fuck me- ah!”

Oh, you didn’t have to tell Toji twice. Because in one, fluid move, Toji’s pulling back, fucking you with harsh, jerky little movements of his hips. Twitching balls smacking you with each thrust. Not even caring to wait and let you adjust because fuck cockwarming, he’s wanted this so long and your needy lil’ pussy is milking him so good- “Shhh, it’s okay, doll. We have lotsa time to practice.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - So mean!

Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Always holding the door open, guiding you through crowds, gifting you bouquets even when there wasn’t a special occasion. 

The only problem was that Nanami was a gentleman even when you didn’t want him to be. Even when what you really wanted was for him to push you down and tease you till you were crying and begging for his cock. 

Like right now - kissing softly down your neck, large hands trailing across your skin as he lays you gently on your bed. Long fingers dipping into your soaked panties, drawing delicate patterns on your quivering thighs. But you’re not in the mood for delicate.

“K-Kento!” you whine, hips bucking into his featherlight touches. “Can we ah- do that thing we talked about?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.” he murmurs against your skin. 

You let out a pouty whine, one that you knew would make him break. “But I want you to, Kento. Wan’ you to break me. Please.”

He lets out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. A loaded second of silence passes. One. Two. And just as you’re about to admit defeat, surprisingly, it’s Nanami that breaks the silence. “Fine then. Face down, ass up if you want to act like such a lil’ slut.”

You scramble to do what he says, mind reeling from the fact that oh this was Nanami - the same Nanami who’d never raised his voice or ever called you anything other than terms of endearment.

“Hm, good.” he grits out.

And that’s all you hear before a deafening rip! rings through the heady room. Looking back in shock, you realize with a jolt that Nanami had your tattered panties in his hands, your dripping cunt on full display for him. 

As he positions himself behind you, resting his swollen cock the curve of your ass. Mindlessly, you push back against the feeling of Nanami’s achingly hard cock, hot and heavy on your skin, precum smearing everywhere. “Ken-”

Smack!

“Not Kento, darling.” he murmurs, palms smoothing over your ass. Lips kissing down your spine, in a way that would be so sweet if it wasn’t for the way he had you under his mercy. 

You let out a strangled moan at the sharp sting, his large handprint searing into your skin.  “S-sir?” you whisper, almost-experimentally. And oh was it the right answer - because he groans appreciatively, dick jumping so animalistically at the term leaving your swollen lips. 

“Oh? So my slutty girl does know how to be good, huh?” he murmurs, voice so uncharacteristically dangerous. Hands spreading your swollen folds to take in the sight of your wet pussy. “Shit. Since m’feeling so nice, count to five n’ I’ll fill that tight lil’ cunt with my cock.”

You barely have the time to wonder what he means before you feel a sharp slap against your ass. Forcing you to yelp out a strained little, “O-one, sir.”

Nanami hungry eyes greedily take in the fat tears clinging to your lashes, hips bucking into his for more. Your mouth dropping into such a delicious little oh! as you’re torn between pain and pleasure. 

You were so sweet falling apart underneath him that he can’t help but do it again. Smack! And again. Smack! 

“Two. Hah! N’ t-three.”

Good, now it was time to put his good girl to the test. 

With a low hiss of appreciation, he drags his throbbing cock across your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices on his tip. At the same time, Nanami’s hand connects with your ass again. Hard. Smack! 

“Ah! Oh-”

“Count.”

“Four! Ngh- four, sir.”

Nanami’s amusement spikes at the way you were so desperately rutting into his cock. And, well, what his pretty slut wants - she gets, right?

Several things happen at once,  he swiftly raises his hand for a final, hard smack. Hips reeling back ever-so-slightly to ram his cock into your snug cunt at the same time. Smack! 

“Ah! Kento- Kento hgnh- shit feel s’good inside me.” you mewl, drunk off both the sharp sting on your ass and Nanami bullying his thick cock into your tight pussy, filling you up so good. 

But not for long - because as soon as he was stuffing you full of his cock, Nanami’s pulling out just as fast. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you whirl behind to pout at him. Only for whatever whine to get stuck in your throat at two fingers shoving something flimsy and wet in your mouth. Forcing you to taste yourself.

Gagging around your soaked panties, a jolt runs down your spine at the positively feral glint in his eyes. Blinking away the tears in your eyes to take in the cruel little smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to whisper, “My lil’ slut can’t even seem to remember what to call me, huh? I think she should be punished.”

Oh.

What have you done?

♡ GETO SUGURU - Drown me in it!

Geto Suguru has done it all - folded you in half, stuffed you full from all ends, had you begging and crying for more underneath him. He can confidently say that he hasn’t shied away from ticking off everything on the list.

That is until one random night in the shower, when he gets an epiphany - oh shit, Geto hasn’t made you squirt yet. Yes, it was the sudden image of you covering him in all your sweet juices. But more importantly - how dare he let his pretty girl go so long without cumming so hard you see the pearly gates of heaven? 

So - like any good boyfriend - Geto has you splayed out on his navy sheets, your legs in the air, his painfully hard cock buried in your dripping cunt. 

“Hngh- please. Shit shit shit m’cumming-” you whine, hips bucking wildly into his. Tears streaming down your face, clenching so hard around his dick that it makes it hard for Geto to thrust in and out at his steady, torturous rhythm. Fucking you through- which number orgasm was this again? 

Ah, it doesn’t matter - because you didn’t squirt. Again. 

“Awww…” you can barely hear his words over the blood roaring in your ears. “Didn’t squirt on that one either. C’mon now, my love, I know y’can do it f’me.”

Not wasting a second, Geto’s ramming his cock into your snug cunt once more. Heavy balls stinging your ass with each thrust - not even easing you into it any more because oh your little sobs were so pretty. Squirming and bucking into his touch despite your protests. “S-Sugu- I hah-, can’t-”

Now, as much as Geto loved your smart mouth - he loved it even more when you’re cockdrunk and babbling underneath him. Huffing out a laugh, he murmurs in your ear, “Yes, my love?” Veins grazing that one spot. Hard. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t cum anymore!”

Well - greedy gaze drinking in the way your swollen cunt swallowed him up so well, slick dripping down to his twitching balls - Geto begged to differ.

“Shut up. You will.” he mutters, shifting the angle to hit that one spot that has you gasping and bucking your hips for more. Your fists bunching up the soaked sheets below you, fucking yourself desperately into his throbbing cock. Curling deftly against that one spot. Over and over-

“Close, my love?” Geto sing-songs, “Think this could be the one?”

And oh does he find out. Because you’re cumming again - stars behind your eyes, walls clamping down so sinfully as he fucks you through your high. Your nails claw at his shoulders in an effort to get him to fucking slow down - but no, Geto is ruthless with his abuse. Hips faltering only once you show signs of your high bating. 

And before you can even react, your boyfriend’s starting his movements again. Milking himself on your heavenly pussy. 

You can’t even form coherent sentences at this point, only fucked-out whimpers leaving your swollen lips - it’s been like this for hours now. You’ve cum more times than you can probably count, yet here Geto was - not even once tonight. A slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. All because he wanted you to fucking squirt.

His thumb was ravaging your sensitive clit, pleasure nothing more than tingles now as Geto fucking ruins you. Hips bullying his thick cock into your heated pussy, thrusts no more than sloppy little movements. Your pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor.

Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 

“C’mon, my love.” his words were so sweetly whispered in your ear - barely audible over your cries. Geto nips at your earlobe, purring lowly, “Squirt on this one, n’ I’ll fill your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum like you want s’bad.”

And then, it happens - something snaps.

Your orgasm crashes through you. So violent and hard that you see flashes of white behind your eyes. You cry out, trembling as your sloppy pussy squirts all over Geto. Covering him in all your sweet juices till his abs are glistening with your slick. Dripping down his body and absolutely soaking the sheets below.

And oh how he was entranced. Geto barely registers his own orgasm, hips faltering as he pumps thick, hot ropes of seed into your quivering cunt. Cumming at the mere sight of you creaming on his cock. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him.

It was so so worth edging the both of you to the brink of insanity. He thinks his only regret was not having you squirt all over his face too.

Well…now he only had to see if he could do it twice.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Lollipop!

Shit, you thought your best friend would have a huge dick - but this was ridiculous. 

So intimidatingly long and pretty, swollen tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching his blushing cheeks. Beads of precum leaking down, down, down the side so mouth-wateringly as you seat yourself in-between those sculpted thighs.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” Choso hisses, despite the way his cock throbs animalistically in your soft hands. 

You raise a brow, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently. “Are you sure, Cho? S’your first, after all.”

He should say no. He should laugh it off as a joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Have you choking and gagging around him. So, any rationality thrown out the window, Choso nods slowly. Entranced. 

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, hot breath making his angry cock twitch “Thought so.” 

“But are you su- hngh!” Whatever sentence at the tip of his tongue is cut off as you spit on his length. Once. Twice. Your palms smearing the saliva along his throbbing length. Enough of an answer. And then there’s no more talking. 

Choso’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief as your tongue darts out to collect the saliva and precum pooling at his head. 

Moaning at his slightly salty taste, you take in as much of him as you can - inch by fucking inch. Not stopping till your nose meets the small tufts of black hair at this toned pelvis. Because this was your devastatingly sexy best friend and he deserved the best. 

God, Choso already thinks he could pass out. 

Heavy balls squeezing so painfully, his veins graze against the roof of your mouth as you start bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless pace. Milking Choso’s pretty cock for all he’s worth. Not even easing him into his first, because fuck only one taste and you’re already addicted. 

So, really, it only makes sense that Choso was the same. “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your warm, plush mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 

Was this what heaven felt like? He really was missing out.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, feel s’good around me, sweetheart.” he groans, as you tongue at his sensitive slit. Fingers digging into the soft armrest while he tries to keep himself together.

You notice - of course you do - because soon enough you’re grabbing his arms to rest on your head, teary eyes blinking up at him so sinfully as you suck the soul out of him. 

In a split-second, Choso’s carding his fingers through your hair, holding you steady as he rams his cock down your throat. 

“Fuck- m’s-sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh- fucking good.” his words slur together, drunk off the way you gag around him. Letting yourself be so used as he fucks your mouth so ferally. Not half the man he was just a moment ago.

By God were you a vision, he thinks deliriously - tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, lips stretching so lewdly around him as you take him in and out in and out in and- And if he angled your head just right he could see the bulge in your throat. Him - all him. “Sorry- ah! s’pretty hgnh- pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

“Gonna be m’first, huh?” he moans deliriously, “”Gonna let me fuck up into that pretty lil’ mouth whenever I want?” 

The only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles, and the smacking of his heavy balls hitting your chin. This was heaven and you were an angel.

And that only makes Choso speed up his sloppy thrusts more. Each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Balls tightening, feeling his sanity crumbling away each time his throbbing erection hits the back of your throat. Over and over-

“Ah! Sweetheart- m’not gonna last long. M’close-” he lets out a guttural groan, tugging on your hair to pull you away.

But alas, you seemed every bit intent on ruining him. Because the only response he gets are your nails digging deeper into his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. Ones for him to remember you by - not that he thinks he could ever forget this.

And that itself is enough to have Choso spilling into your mouth. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

Heart in his throat, breaths ragged, Choso has to blink his vision back. And if he thought he was going to pass out before then he wasn’t ready for you to proudly stick out your tongue - showing absolutely no trace of his cum. Swallowing everything he gives.

“I-I think,” he starts, voice shot, “S’time for me to return the favor.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Drunk on you(r cunt)!

Why the hell would the King of Curses ever kneel down to anyone? 

Why would he ever wrestle your legs so shamefully open, dive nose-first into your pretty pussy, and tease you with his tongue for hours? Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock for the sole purpose of making you cum and only making you cum?

But, well, that’s exactly what happened. 

“Oh- Kuna! Please-” you mewl, big fat tears dripping down your face at this point. Not knowing whether to move your hips away or buck up into his tongue for more more more-

“What now, brat?” he hums into your dripping cunt, vibrations making you squeal. “Complained that I don’t eat out your pretty lil’ cunt n’ now you’re acting so spoiled?”

Ah, there it was - that offhand little remark that got you into this mess. “B-but,” you whine, stars behind your eyes each time Sukuna laps at your sweet juices. “Didn’t think you’d be so mean-”

All you get is a dark chuckle as Sukuna sucks on your throbbing clit, so sensitive from his relentless abuse. Rolling his tongue over it so teasingly. 

Now, this might be his first time eating you out, but he knows exactly what you need - what you crave. And the way your body trembled under his touch told Sukuna everything about how you were brinking so dangerously close to the edge. Too close. 

“Please, Kuna! Wan’ cum s’bad.” you cry out, broken little moans of pleasure leaving your swollen lips. Ones which quickly turn into disappointed whines as he pulls away. Again.

“M’not being mean.” he murmurs in your ear, drinking in that adorable little pout on your face. 

In the haze of your lust-addled mind, you barely register the way he flips you two to lay on his back. Manhandling you further up the mattress you to be splayed out so sinfully above him - thighs straddling his devastatingly handsome face, hot breath hitting your dripping cunt.

“See?” Sukuna hums, tongue darting out to catch the obscene drip! drip! drip! of your slick. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “M’the best fucking boyfriend you’ll ever have.” And with that, he’s bullying his tongue through your swollen fold. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-

“Ngh- feels s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Sukuna’s tongue. 

Why was he so reluctant again? Something about stupid fucking pride? Fuck that, Sukuna would be on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal.

God, you were pretty sure you’d be collapsing onto him if it wasn’t for the strong hand holding your hips. Grip almost bruising as he rocks you harder - more obscenely - on his tongue. The other snakes down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your swollen clit - as if you weren’t losing your sanity enough

And maybe if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that Sukuna was, too. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, pussy-drunk and watching awe-struck at the sinful sight of you. Devouring the sight of you the way he was with your cunt. 

Fuck, why does this feel so good? He wasn’t even fucking getting off, but the more he made out with your sweet cunt, the more he could feel himself edging closer and closer to the edge. Rock-hard cock angry and leaking precum all over his abs. The great Ryomen Sukuna cumming in his pants from eating his pretty girl out? 

Shit, Sukuna thinks deliriously, he was gonna have to make you cum. Soon. 

“Kuna- m’close.” you whimper, voice so soft as if you were afraid of being teased again.

“Oh yeah, brat?” he mutters into your folds, “Want it s’badly, huh? Wan’ cum on my tongue?” 

The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Yes yes yes! Can’t take it anymore, wan’ cum. Make me cum, please!” you keen. Fucked-out little whines of Sukuna’s name leaving your mouth as he speeds up his movements.

“Then cum.”

And you are, clenching so lewdly around his soft tongue as you ride out your high on his face. Your juices glossing his lips so prettily. And oh Sukuna’s so entranced by you creaming around his tongue that he almost misses the feel of thick, hot spurts of his cum now pooling on his abs. Fuck, he was going to have to do this very often.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Break him!

Gojo always fucked you like his own personal sextoy. And now, it was only time for you to pay back the favor. Which is why you had him handcuffed to the bed, shirtless and splayed out to absolutely fucking ruin. 

“Hah, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.” Gojo chuckles, tugging on the metal cuffs. Still so cocky despite the way his throbbing dick was leaking all over his sculpted abs, twitching at the mere sound of your voice. 

“How nice.” you hum, sliding your pussy across his swollen cock, drenching him in your juices. “Because I won’t be.” And before Gojo can retort, you’re sinking down on his achingly hard cock, squeezing him inside your tight cunt as much as you can. 

“Shit shit shit, yes. Your pretty lil’ pussy feel s’amazing wrapped around me. You sure you can handle it all, baby?” 

You waste no time. Slamming down on Gojo’s leaking cock in one, abrupt motion, walls burning at the stretch as your ass meets his heavy balls. They twitch against you as you start moving in steady little bounces, sliding his thick cock in and out of your dripping cunt. In out in and out in and-

“Shit, baby. Fuckin’ me s’good ah! Hngh-” Gojo’s sinful moans come in ragged bursts. Fucking up into your pussy in shallow, defiant little thrusts to bully himself deeper and deeper inside you. But not for long - because you’re pushing his hips down, nails digging into the milky skin of his hips.

“Nope.” you hum, grinning at his pout. “Not till you admit defeat, Toru.”

“What defeat? That all you got, baby?” Gojo scoffs.

Stubborn bastard.

“‘What defeat’, huh?” you taunt. Leaning down so your breath fans his pretty face, “Said I couldn’t- handle it-” Each word is punctuated by you slamming down hard onto his swollen cock. Snug cunt massaging his veins as you pull up all the way - till his leaking tip is just kissing your sloppy hole, rocking your hips down hard at a punishing pace. “Look at you now, huh?”

You risk a glance into his eyes and oh- he liked it.

The great Gojo Satoru - revered like a God since birth - liked being treated like a mere fucktoy at your hands. Loved it even - if the way he twitched inside you was anything to go by it. Oh how you enjoyed being the one to bring him down to his knees.

Immediately, your hand reaches to grab the blindfold hanging haphazardly on his neck. “C’mon, Toru.” you warn, breaths ragged at the way his fat tip kissed your cervix. Tugging - hard - Gojo breath hitches in his throat as you whisper, “Jus’ give up.”

His pretty lips part slightly as you speed up your movements. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 

“God, fuck- hah. Nah, more talk than walk, huh?”

Your hand tightens around the delicate blindfold, relishing in the wet little gurgles that leave him at the pressure around his throat. Balls squeezing painfully as you hypnotize him with your heavenly cunt. Alternating between agonizingly slow strokes and a sloppy, erratic bouncing - edging him closer and closer to the edge. Only to shatter his orgasm and his ego. Fuck.

“I know you want to cum, Toru.” your sweet voice snaps him out of his reverie, and Gojo stares up into your hazy, powerdrunk eyes. “Just admit defeat.”

“No.”

“Toru.” you start, sultry and dangerous. “Admit it.”

He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out through those long lashes. “No.” he repeats, jaw clenched tight.

A hand wraps around his blindfold, pulling him impossibly closer, not even a hair’s breadth between your sticky bodies. “Admit defeat, Toru.” your lips ghosting his, nipping at his bottom lip. “Admit defeat, n’ I’ll make your cock cum hard enough to see stars.”

And finally, “I hah- a-admit defeat.”

“Louder.”

“I was wrong! Was wrong, m’girl. Lemme cum please lemme cum-”

Throwing his head back, Gojo’s hips buck wildly into yours as you let him bully his dick into you with reckless abandon. Over and over- Using you just as much as you were using him. Not even an ounce of the God he was raised to be.

And oh does Gojo see stars - and you do too. Because with a strangled gasp of your name, he’s painting your snug cunt white with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Fucking his seed deeper and deeper, he fucks you through your high. Dazed blue eyes widening at the way your tight pussy was so overfilled, sticky seed dribbling out of you.  The sight of you creaming around his cock has his balls twitching exhaustedly. Fuck it was all too much. Flimsy handcuffs shattering with one pull, Gojo mutters raggedly, words sending shivers down your spine, “My turn, baby.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

i apologize in advance but i will be slightly updating my mobile theme :’)

roommate! choso is being awfully mean! maybe he’s just jealous that you’re seeing other people after you’ve let him cum inside you how many times? </3

warnings dom! choso, fem! reader, mean/bully choso, breeding, possessive, unprotected sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of impregnating the reader and keeping her forever, implied free use, spitting in mouth, choso has a filthy mouth

“where are you going now?”

briefly, you glance up from the makeup palette in your hand. choso’s hard, darkened gaze catches yours in the mirror of your vanity. he leans against the wooden frame of your bedroom door with his arms crossed over his chest, eyeing you silently as you doll yourself up. you smile cheekily, patting your cheeks with blush.

“on a date.” you hum.

“with that loser?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes at his predictable bitterness. what a jealous fuck, you think as you turn away to fish for a tube of lipgloss. his feet patter softly as he creeps further into your girlishly ornamented room. an enervated sigh parts your lips when he plops a seat at the edge of your bed, sitting adjacent to you.

“is that what you’re wearing?” he muses. something unreadable mars his face as he reaches over, tugging at the thin fabric of your tiny silk dress. “bit much for a second date, huh?”

god, he is just so painfully in love jealous that it’s ripping him in two. he hates the way you smell, the way you do your hair, the way you giggle at everything. he almost can’t stand to watch as you play dress up for a man who doesn’t even fuck you properly—not to choso’s standards anyway.

after the first date you brought the man home, and much to both of your dismay, you were greeted with choso’s unwelcoming presence—a slender and shirtless frame sprawled across the couch like the damn man of the house. he held a can of soda and a glowering snarl that he hoped would ward the loser off.

but later that night, he could make out the sounds of your pleasureful cries as they bled through your bedroom walls. he felt sick to his stomach, but then he could hear the way you mistakenly moaned his name instead, and it ruined him. he stroked his poor, aching cock so angrily that night, nothing evident but you.

that loser wouldn’t push you up the bathroom sink and yank your panties down. he wouldn’t whisper horrible things into your ear while fingering that pretty, aching pussy. definitely wouldn’t rub your clit so sloppy that you’re begging to feel his cock instead. choso knows he’s the only man that will fuck you the way that slutty cunt deserves.

“does he know that you let me fuck you like a slut?” choso asks offhandedly. he’s mindlessly twirling one of your makeup brushes between his fingers, chin resting within the palm of his opposing hand. “and that you begged me to cum inside of you like what… an hour before your first date?”

you smooth your hands down your dress, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. choso is brash and bitter and impolite and you made the honest mistake of falling for him; now you can’t seem to get rid him. you’re addicted and he knows it—knows he’s the only one that’s ever made you cum, the only one that’s seen the way you really like to fuck.

“you should tell him,” he’s closer now, button nose pressed to your cheek, inhaling. “think he’d stay with you if he knew that his new little girlfriend was letting her roommate cum inside of her pussy, huh?”

“c— choso, he’s on his way, please.”

“he’ll just have to fucking wait then, won’t he?”

a big, cunning hand is spreading your thighs and cupping your bare pussy. choso gasps, utterly staggered by the sudden warmth of your sticky arousal and how it’s drooooling down the palm of his hand. you can’t help but to bite your lip, swallowing the pathetic little whimper that sits in your chest.

“were you gonna let him fuck you in this?” as one of his big hands trail beneath the fabric of your dress, you nod. “yeah? were you gonna let him pull your dress up like this and fuck that pretty little pussy?”

“yes,” it’s only a breath as you roll your hips into his hand, chasing that warm, delicious friction. “but i want it to be you… wan’ you to f-fuck me. he doesn’t touch me right.”

“i know, baby,” he coos, holding out his hands for you. “he’s a fucking loser, isn’t he?”

a loud, assenting whimper leaves you as you clamber over to him. choso grins widely, something wicked flickering in his darkened gaze as he pulls you onto his lap. he audibly inhales your scent before groaning into your skin. warm, calloused hands creep further up your dress, silky fabric bunching around your waist. you’re dizzy off of his touch, head spinning like a record as you arch into his embrace. god, you’re perfect like this.

this always feels so right and you hate it. you hate the way he smells, the way you let him touch you, the way he makes you feel. you hate how the palpable thud of your heart beats somewhere much deeper, much more aching. and you hate that he knows how to get you so fucking wet that you’re crying to feel his big, pretty cock inside of you.

“please just fuck me,” you’re just whining so perfectly for him while you impatiently fist the waistband of his sweats. “choso, please?” you sound hungry, much like your gaze and eager hands as you successfully bare his long, pretty shaft. “i want it… wanna feel your cock before he gets here.”

“yeah? you want me to ruin that pussy before you go? you’re so wet for it,” the entirety of his palm is sliding between your swollen, glossy lips and you shudder. “you missed my cock, huh?” the smile that cracks along his face is unmistakably possessive.

your arousal drips from his fingers like honey as he grips the base of his hooked shaft, indulgently slathering your essence down to his balls. another big hand claims your hip, forcing you up to hover over the glistening head of his cock, slick dripping. choso slaps his sticky tip against your sloppy entrance thrice before sinking deeeep inside of your cunt in one, mean thrust.

he holds you still, toned arms wrapped near possessively around your body so that he can fuck you in place. you’re swallowing all of his long, intentional thrusts, that pretty pussy sucking him in so fucking deep that you’ve forgotten why you even wanted to move on in the first place.

choso lets off a deep, gutteral moan while grazing his teeth over the column of your throat. he licks your skin hungrily, his tongue so hot and wet that it makes you tighten around him in a horrendous need. arousal drips from your perfectly stuffed cunt down to the fat of his balls as they slap against your ass in loud, audible plaps!

“you’re mine,” choso breathes, fingers latching to the nape of your neck. “forever, you hear me? you’ll never escape me,” he’s forcing your head back to mark up your throat. a hand pulls you closer, deepening your pretty little arch. “don’t care how many fucking men you bring over here… you’ll just have to explain to them why you’ve already got someone else’s cum inside of you, won’t you?”

you gasp, brows furrowing in arousal. “cho, you’re s-so mean,”

“and he’s too fucking nice… you don’t like nice guys, they don’t fuck like this,” choso’s thumb drags over your aching clit and you whine into his ear. “he will never fuck you the way i do. god, does he even know that you like to get fucked like a w-whore, huh?” his lips settle against the warm spot that pulses below your jaw. “do you beg him to fuck you harder? deeper?”

“n-no, fuck… c— chosooo,”

“probably fucks you like you’re made of porcelain—too scared to break you but little does he fucking know.”

choso’s hand closes around your throat and you moan, pretty eyes threatening to cross like such a slut. he squeezes the sides of your neck, slender fingers creeping up your jaw. the pad of his thumb is prying your mouth open and rivulets of drool cascade down his hand. he kisses you sloppily, groaning into your honeyed mouth while tasting your saliva. for a moment he pulls away, a shiny wisp of spit tethering your bottom lips together.

“open your mouth,” he mutters, squishing your cheeks.

and you do, that wet, pretty tongue lolling out so obediently while you wait for his next command. choso’s fingers are threading throughout the hair at your nape, drawing your head back. his darkened gaze catches yours, holding the cruel contact while spitting into your awaiting mouth. a nasty, guttural sound leaves him as he begins to suck on your tongue, kissing you hungrily.

you’re a wreck, crying and whimpering around his cock like such a nasty girl while he fucks you from beneath, muttering nothing but filth into your ear. he’s stretching you out completely, his long, curved shaft fucking to the very back of your sloppy cunt like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. and his hand are everywhere—wrapping around your throat, pulling at the fat of your ass, spreading you apart, and grazing over your hard, sensitive nipples.

“i wanna cummm,” you whimper. a cloud of dizzying arousal swirls in your tummy, your wet, aching pussy tightening around his cock so desperately. “wanna cum with you, please? choso, wanna feel your cum while i cum…”

“yeaaah, you want me to breed that pussy?” his cock throbs when you nod to him, balls tightening unbearably. “should just knock you up and keep you here forever… bear all my fucking kids, huhhh?”

the thought of bearing his children alone is what has you gushing down the length of his cock without warning. you’re gone, rutting your hips and arching your back like the greedy little thing he knows you are. you’re making such a mess, arousal trickling down to his balls, and it’s the feeling of your sloppy orgasm that has choso spilling a hot, syrupy load inside of your pulsing cunt.

“take it, take it… take all of my f-fucking cum, baby,” his hips stutter, breath hitching as he stuffs his face into the crook of your neck, hungrily biting your skin and growling. “you’re allll fucking mine—mine to fuck, mine to breed, mine to use whenever i want, yeah?”

choso nods your head for you, fingers digging into your cheeks while forcing your head up and down. pleased, he slips himself out of you to set you onto your bed, kindly pulling your dress back into place. a cruel smile plays his lips as you press your thighs together, knowing his cum is leaking from your pretty little hole and surely staining the silk of your dress.

a knock at the front door makes you gasp, choso smiles.

“tell that loser i said hey.”

locker room talk (satosugu x reader 18+)

word count: 3.9K

content: an alternate universe where suguru doesn’t die and becomes a teacher with satoru and you :))

warnings: 18+ smut, explicit language, sub!brat!reader, dom!satoru, switch!suguru, public sex, threesome, voyeurism, light degradation, oral on both genitalia, face sitting, light impact play, hair pulling, edging, overstimulation, creampie

a/n: this is my first fic i've written in a very long time and have published! if you like it, please send me requests!!!

for as long as you could remember, you were always around suguru and satoru. from the moment you joined jujutsu tech, you clicked with the pair but as much as they hate to admit it, you and shoko were also close. it was nice having a group of four people in your grade so that you could pair up on projects for school. now that you’re all graduated, the four of you still remain at jujutsu tech just under different circumstances. suguru, satoru and you are all teachers while shoko was pretty much the on hand school nurse which was nice for combat training. speaking of training, you get brought back to reality when one of geto’s cursed spirits comes flying at you and you narrowly dodge it by using your technique. 

“good one sensei!” you hear yuuji cheering you on from the bleachers. 

your technique was interesting to say the least, void’s menace, was what your families generational cursed technique was called. the way you were able to dodge suguru’s curses was creating a wormhole and stepping through it to side step the cursed spirit. that’s only one of the possibilities of your technique. satoru has always teased you that the name of it sounded like a copycat of infinite void but you can’t control what it’s called. 

speaking of the devil, satoru approaches the field you guys are training in today, “get your own technique!”

“now’s not the time,” you yell back to him as you open up a blackhole-like portal for suguru’s cursed spirit to fall into on its way to attack you and close it up immediately as it falls for your trap. 

while suguru was busy looking over at satoru, you open another wormhole and use it to appear right behind geto. you quickly take his arms while kicking him down by his knees to knock him over. he lets out a grunt as you successfully knock him to the ground with his hands behind his back, pinning him down with your own knees. 

“3, 2, 1! i got you!” you exclaim as you let go of suguru, holding a hand out to him to help him off the ground. 

wiping your forehead with the back of your other hand, he grabs the outstretched one in his own and tugs you down to the ground with him. you land on your forearms with a yelp, pouting towards your bully. using your technique back to back with training has you exhausted so you weren’t in the mood to be toyed with right now. 

“suguru, you ass,” you whine as you roll onto your back, looking up at the sky, “that was a low blow.” 

gojo goes on to tell the students that their training was over for the day as suguru actually helped you up this time. 

“it seems like you need to go hit the showers miss y/n,” satoru teases you about the dirt on your uniform thanks to his best friend. 

“i’ll do what i want, satoru,” you stick your tongue out at him as you smack the excess dirt off your sweatpants you use for combat training days. 

“and let us deal with the smell?” he waves his hand by his nose jokingly, “so cruel!”

“yeah yeah, yeah. i’ll listen to you just this once! not for you but for the kids.”

“ah c’mon you don’t need to lie to your favorite person.”

“nah i don’t want it to get to your head,” you wave bye to the blindfolded fool and turn towards the women’s locker room.

cutting the water off to your shower, you shiver as you step into the cool air behind the curtain. you can still hear a shower going in the locker room next door so you assume one of the students needed a quick wash as well. it was a hot day to train for sure so you can’t blame them. you have one towel wrapped around your body as you use the second one to scrub at your wet scalp. you didn’t want to get your hair wet but it’s hard to avoid in such a small shower. 

a clanking sound interrupted your thoughts but you don’t sense anything so you assume it wasn’t a big deal. someone was in the other locker room anyways, right? 

going back to drying yourself off, you move to your legs. water drops falling to your feet as the rest of it gets absorbed by the towel and then you hear it again. except this time it was followed by what sounded like a grunt. 

‘what if someone’s hurt?’ you think to yourself, debating on checking the noise. you hesitate because every person who checks the noises in horror movies is always the one to die first and you don’t want that. 

on the other hand, you’re on school grounds so the chance of it being dangerous is pretty low with tengen’s barrier. your second towel now thrown over your shoulder since you finished drying off your legs. you open the locker with your gym bag inside to grab your face moisturizer before your face dries up and begs for hydration. as soon as you open the lid, you hear the same noise with the same toned grunt. 

‘okay, that’s it!’ you decide, tightening the towel around your body, and grab your imbued shurikens just in case. 

you don't want to speak out loud and scare the person, intruder or not, you could get hurt. instead you quietly edge around the corner, trying to be as light as you can on your feet and peek into the other locker room that the noise was coming from. 

your eyes widen as the sight before you unfolds. satoru is kneeling before suguru with his hand around his best friend’s cock, stroking him in a slow and teasing rhythm. you can’t control your legs as you scoot closer into the room but not to the point of where they can see you. 

from here you can get a good view and hear their conversation. you can tell that they’re trying to be hushed since it’s a public space. suguru’s pants are halfway down his legs and his top is hanging on the locker above his head while satoru is still clothed. it looks like they were in a hurry to get some alone time. 

“you liked having them pin you down huh, babe?” satoru says as he circles the tip of suguru’s cock, getting a choked whimper in response. “they outsmarted you and that made you worked up, poor thing.” 

the accusation makes you bite your lip as you feel a tingle shoot down your spine, knowing that he was referring to you and your spar with suguru. 

“or were you picturing yourself doing that to them instead? wishing that they were pinned underneath you, squirming in your hold. i wonder how they felt at that moment.” satoru speeds up his hand, using his mouth on the tip and licking the precum as it oozes like a faucet. his words seemingly working suguru up even more. 

the image flashes in your mind, suguru’s strong arms keeping yours pinned to your back, knees to the sides of your hips as he straddles your ass. maybe you’d be able to feel the shape of his cock through his pants. it definitely seems like you would while you look at it now. his cock is pretty and proportionate to his height, which is very impressive, with a girth like you’ve never seen before. satoru has large hands and you can see that he can fit his hand around it with not much overlap between his fingers. the closer look at it makes you subconsciously drool, wanting to feel it in the back of your throat. you can only imagine what satoru’s would look like. 

a loud moan rips you from your own mind, seeing satoru with suguru’s cock down his throat. his nose hitting the trimmed hairs by the base, no gagging as you visibly see his throat swallow around the length in his mouth. another moan leaves the black haired man’s mouth and satoru pulls off, leaving a trail of saliva hanging from the reddened tip. 

“do you want to get caught sweetheart? you might want to keep it down,” satoru immediately deepthroats suguru’s cock again after the last word leaves his mouth. 

suguru’s hand flies up to his mouth, biting down on the back of it from the sudden stimulation. the other hand grasping at satoru’s hair, accidentally knocking off his signature black blindfold. you can tell that even before the blindfold was off, he was looking up at suguru while his nose once again brushed his happy trail. his bright blue eyes gazing up at him with adoration and lust. the sounds that manage to leave suguru’s mouth even through the bite make your clit tingle in arousal. 

your hand guiltily sneaks its way under your towel and over your underwear, feeling how wet you’ve gotten already. seeing satoru cock hungry and suguru struggle to be quiet has really affected you. you’ve definitely thought about the two boys like this before but never did you think it would happen. you slowly tease your fingers around your clit as you recall how you used to imagine what their cocks looked like, what shape their body took, the sounds they would make and now that it’s in front of you, your brain seems to move a bit slower. if you would’ve been paying attention to your surroundings you’re sure you could’ve felt earlier, satoru’s six eyes. 

now aware of your surroundings, you pray that even though you felt his eyes on you, that it was a false sense. you know that it wasn’t false when satoru’s eyes move to look in your direction with his mouth still bobbing on suguru’s cock and said man’s head is thrown back onto the lockers lost in pleasure. you subconsciously circle your clit faster with those bright cerulean eyes watching your every move. his eyes move back to suguru, pulling off his cock very slowly wanting to still please him. 

“come on out and show sugu’ what a dirty whore you are,” satoru calls for you. 

a whimper leaves your throat involuntarily from being degraded by the man. you remove your hand from under your towel and step forward into the room. all your confidence leaves your body as now you are the center of attention. your hands grip the towel tightly to your body and your eyes on the ground, now too shy to make eye contact. 

“did you hear how desperate suguru is for you? how he wanted to pin you down in return and put you into your place?” satoru teases you. 

“they didn’t need to know that, ‘toru!” suguru’s voice slightly strained from the held back moans, “what if they’re uncomfortable?”

satoru ignores him and looks at you, “are you gonna be a good girl and tell him what you were doing behind the corner? or are you gonna be difficult?”

debating to yourself what to say you land on, “make me.”

satoru gets up from his knelt position and starts to saunter over towards you, his calm demeanor sending a chill up your spine. you know he would never hurt you but you do feel threatened in a way. 

“say it one more time if you’re okay with whatever is going to happen.” satoru says when he’s about 3 steps away from you. 

“make.me.” you would never want to miss out on this opportunity to live out your fantasy. 

he quickly grasps your hair into his fist, pushing you down onto your knees while his other hand pulls down his pants and underwear. you know exactly where this is going and it excites you so you open your mouth with a moan in anticipation. his cock is exactly as you expected, pretty and pale like himself. the length and girth of it a perfect size with few veins and a light pink tip, extra drool drips off your tongue from examining him.

“fucking slut already knew what i was gonna do to them,” he groans as he shoves his cock down your throat, “you’re gonna regret that.”

he moves your head back slightly and then shoves you right back down, barely giving you time to catch a breath. you gag around the girth and your eyes already start to tear up. this has never happened to you in any other experience this quick, this one is already taking the cake. as the first two tears stream down your face, satoru keeps shallowly thrusting into the back of your throat. as much as he didn’t want to, he pulled you off of himself when your throat started constricting too much, he didn’t want you to pass out. 

“so what were you doing over in the corner?” satoru asks you again. 

you’re still sputtering from just having his cock down your throat and catching your breath. you try to talk but nothing comes out at first.

“i asked, what were you doing over in the corner?” satoru not cutting you any slack. 

you’re able to cough a few times to gain your voice back, “n-nothing!” 

“oh what? don’t want suguru to know about how much of a whore you are?” he still has your hand in his fist.

“y’know you don’t have to be afraid to tell me, baby,” suguru finally cuts in after he collects himself from satoru’s excellent head. “or else we’re just gonna hurt you more.”

“m-maybe that’s what i want…” you finally say to the pair. 

“oh ho ho. when i saw you touching yourself by the door, i knew you’d be freaky like us.” satoru admits. 

“mhm, been dreaming about this.” you admit shyly. 

“let’s make that dream a reality.” suguru joins you guys closer to the doorway of the locker room just to tug both of you by the hands to get further into the room. 

within minutes this experience has already blown your mind, it’s by far the best sex you’ve ever had. it started with you sitting on suguru’s face while doing your best to give satoru head, every time you stopped sucking him, he would shove his cock deep down your throat like before and suguru would spank your ass if that wasn’t enough.

cut to now where the three of you were in the same positions but suguru stops fucking his tongue into your hole and moves his face so his nose isn’t stimulating your clit either as a whine uncontrollably leaves your mouth sending vibrations around satoru’s cock. your pending orgasm starts to fizzle and you pull off of satoru. 

instead of asking you to move, the two of them seemingly work like they’re reading each other's minds. suguru grabs your hips while he moves onto his knees behind you and shoves his cock into your dripping pussy the same time satoru makes you choke around his length again. a deep moan escapes you from the stretch of suguru in your cunt. 

“fuuuuck, knew you’d be a tight bitch.” suguru groans from your gummy walls surrounding him. he already has your hips in a tight grip that’ll probably leave bruises but you don’t care about that right now. he then somehow grips them tighter and pulls them back onto his cock at the same time he starts thrusting. 

the angle has him fucking past your g-spot on every thrust and you can feel your orgasm building up again. usually you need your clit to be touched for you to cum but the situation and the best dicking of your life makes this an exception it seems. satoru yanks you off his cock by your hair like he did to you earlier.

“fuck baby, got a mouth like no other. we could definitely train your throat to not gag as much around our cocks,” he says panting, “almost made me cum already.”

he turns to suguru, “and lucky for you, i already loosened you up earlier this morning.” 

you pause as you realize what he meant, you’ll have to ask them about that later. satoru then moves out of your line of view and over to suguru. you have to admit, you imagined that instead of what you walked in on earlier, that it was satoru pounding into his best friend. you imagine the sounds suguru would let out as his prostate gets massaged and as soon as the thought crosses your mind, he actually makes a sound. his mouth is slightly agape, his nose scrunched, his face flustered and the noises, god the noises, his whimpers, and his breathy moans. the sounds alone are making you throb. 

“fuck it’s too much,” suguru whines. 

“be a good boy and take it. you were just whining to me about how you’ve been craving this.” satoru grabs him by the throat as he finishes prepping him and lubes himself up. 

before satoru pushes into suguru, he turns you around to face him again and immediately goes back to his previous speed. as he goes to pull out for a harder thrust, satoru then pushes in hard but not hard enough to hurt. you can tell because of the blissed out look on his face and his hips still, the only movement being satoru’s thrusts. 

he soon slows down into just a subtle grind and grabs suguru by the throat again, “if you stop, i stop. got it?” 

“ye–,” a moan interrupts his response, “yes… i understand.” 

“good boy,” he groans into his ear while pounding back into him. 

subconsciously suguru starts to thrust into you at a fast pace, fucking himself back onto satoru’s cock and then right back into your wet cunt. you can tell he’s already overstimulated and trying his hardest not to cum so fast. seeing how much pleasure courses through his body somehow makes your body hotter and your desperation stronger. he’s currently holding himself up by his arms with his hands by your head so you’re able to reach down between you two to rub your clit. as soon as your hand circles around it in the first circle you reach your peak, you orgasm like you’ve never felt before, as if your body went into a different universe. you can’t control the noises that escape your mouth as you cum, it sounds like a mixture of their names with a loud moan and your body twitches in release. the denied orgasms from earlier making this even more intense. 

“who said you could cum, slut?” satoru is able to tell from your moans alone. “you better not cum without permission.” he yanks suguru’s hair. 

“since someone wants to not be a good listener, we’re gonna give them what they want and make them cum so many times they regret it.” satoru looks at you with a powerful look in his eyes. 

he pulls out of suguru with a grunt and then grabs his hips to pull him out of you next.

“sugu’ you’re gonna take a break so you don’t cum and touch them while i take my turn with them.” 

suguru goes straight for your chest, mouth open as his tongue swirls around your areola and barely grazing your nipple. his other hand is doing a similar thing but the touch feels lighter. at the same time his mouth and fingers latch on to your nipples, satoru eases his way inside your warmth and rubs light circles around your clit. your mouth hangs agape and no sound can leave it. you already feel like you could cum again just from a light touch. 

satoru shifts his hips up ever so slightly and hits a spot you haven’t known of before. you’ve had your g-spot touched before but this was different, you couldn’t even begin to think about what it was at the moment, too focused on the constant bumping against that same spot. 

after a few more thrusts, another orgasm rushes through your body unexpectedly. satoru grabs your legs and rests them on his shoulders and leans down to fold you slightly. your hand is still idling by your clit so the deep and fast thrusts are making your arms shake and bumping into your pulsing clit. as soon as you reach the end of one orgasm, another over throws you again and your pussy is clenching so hard around satoru he has to slow down some or else he would’ve came. 

suguru pulls off your chest and kisses your cheeks, seeing how overstimulated you already were. you try to catch your breath while he does that and satoru comes to a still and is lightly massaging your thighs. you’re so sensitive though that just the touch of his large hands is still turning you on. he picks up on that quickly and replaces the light massage into a hard grip and ruts into you deeply. the sudden stimulation brings tears to your eyes as you can’t help but to continue to be loud. 

to try and get you to quiet down, suguru shuffles onto his knees to where his cock is now in front of your face. without a second thought, you suckle on the tip, collecting his precum. his taste is the classic bitter and salty but it’s not very strong so it’s not too bad. after getting a good taste and getting to adjust your mouth, you’re able to fit more of it in and do your best to move your head. luckily with satoru’s thrusts you have good momentum. 

satoru’s hands abandon your thighs but then instead go to your chest, squeezing it and pinching your nipples between his fingers while nailing your g-spot. muffled moans after muffled moans are heard vibrating around suguru’s length and it makes him grab the back of your head to bob it a bit faster. his movements are still a bit shallow so you can tell he’s getting close. 

“‘toru p–” a sharp moan leaves his mouth as you swallow around him, “please c-can i cum? please? oh fuck.”

you start to choke a little from not catching your breath and hope that satoru would say yes. instead he chuckles and says, “just a little longer.”

you whine in response, tears now falling down your face and start moving your hand faster on your clit. 

“oh fuck, you want me to leave it in you? want me to stuff you full of my cum?” satoru’s voice gets a little bit gruffer. 

you nod your head and moan louder intentionally so he could know that you want it. the lack of oxygen and the constant tingling stimulation makes you cream all over satoru’s cock again. the pulsing of your orgasm pushes satoru into his own and the vibrations of your moans over suguru’s cock also makes him shoot his load down your throat.

the two of them slow down their motions and pull out as they come down from their highs and you finally catch your breath. you can feel satoru’s cum oozing out of your sore hole and it feels like there was a lot. you see suguru manage to get up and grab a washcloth from his shower bag. he wets it under the sink and the two of them lovingly clean you up and ease you back down from your highs. they sit you up and give you one of their water bottles to sip out of.

“are you okay?” satoru asks as he pats your head. 

“mhm.” you barely let out because you feel as if your voice wouldn’t work anyways. 

“c’mon let's get dressed to go home and cuddle,” suguru caresses your cheek.

and you guys did exactly that…as well as a few other rounds. 

reader riding gojo while gojo throats geto's cock roughly BUT!!!! gojo is wearing a cock ring so he can't cum even when he's being tagged teamed like a slut and having his body absolutely ravished and used just how he likes

his cock would be soooo sore and his balls soooo full and heavy just aching to cum esp when u start squeezing around him while he's inside as geto stuffs his dick balls deep down his throat and leaves jt there to choke him... the poor thing would be crying so hard of pleasure wanting to cum but the cock ring won't let him :/

HOTLINE BL☆NG!

summ. wine nights and free will? a recipe for disaster— such as matching your ex on a corny dating app and having him in your bed within that same hour. . .

cw. eventual smut. 18+. fem!reader. alcohol/substance consumption. ex boyfriend!gojo. mild toxicity. breakup & makeup. girlhood ft jjk girlies. unreliable narrator sorta. sukuna slander. mild impact play. mild asphyxiation. oral (f). fíngering. backshōts. reader is a little questionable. self sabotaging my beloved. lowkey angsty. @/3aem on tumblr for art creds. most of these stories are real shit i’ve heard/experienced LOL. can you tell i’ve never used tinder a day in my life? 16.4k words. . oops.

rena’s note. @yung-notorious and her filthy mind. . .

“you like it when i fuck you like this? yeah you do.”

god, you do.

you can’t bring yourself to remember why you’d ever let go of dick this good. the kind that had you taking the rubber off and considering finishing inside. the kind that had you babbling apologies for having done absolutely nothing wrong. the kind that made you begin to believe his careless whispers, empty promises to work things out.

his fingers dig in the column of your throat, the weight of his hand wrapped tightly at your neck. he’s everywhere at once, but simultaneously no where to be found. while you can feel his tip prodding at your most sensitive spot, you don’t feel the overwhelming force of love he once bore with open arms for you.

“nahhh. . . don’t start running now.” you didn’t realize you were. the sheets are crumpled in your tight hold, while your other hand lightly pushes at his lower abdomen. naturally, he pins your wrist at your spine to maintain his ruthless pace, and with another gentle yet cruelly empty promise, “not when i’ve just gotten you back.”

how the fuck did you get yourself in this mess?

friday nights were meant to decompose after a long week. a cute tradition you followed— sipping on moscato wine and munching on takeout with your homegirls while the lamest horror movie played as background noise. the skincare bit happened every third friday of the month, which fell on this particular night, thin layers of korean products lathering at your skins while fluffy headbands sat atop your hairlines, keeping stray hairs away.

it was an easy way of recapping all of your week’s worth of bullshit and listing each girl’s new lineup of men of the season.

girlhood.

“i’m cool off men for a whileee,” you sigh, placing your third wine glass on the coffee table. you tuck your legs back onto the couch, propping your head into your palm. you watch as shoko, who’s seated on the floor, grabs your glass and fills it with another unsolicited round. you narrow your eyes at her, “after the shit kuna pulled— girl, slow down!”

“don’t watch me,” shoko chews at her unlit blunt tucked in her teeth, lifting an arm above her head to pass you your refill. despite the slight spin of the room, you accept the cup against better judgment, “keep talking. what the fuck did he do now?”

“you mean what didn’t he do,” seated in the pink bean bag rested on the floor, utahime quips. in between her teeth sits a wooden stick, drizzled in the honey-like wax residue she smeared over her shin. “i woulda left his ass the second i found out he— FUCK— lived with his mama at his big age.”

as utahime soothes her smoothened skin, yuki leans over the coffee table to grab at the blunt passed over to her. “y/n baby, you know i love you,” she starts off, taking a deep inhale before ghosting the smoke. you can tell she’s about the cook the shit out of you, “but come on— he lives in his parents’ basement. was that not a red flag in itself? is that seriously the kind of man you see yourself marrying.”

“nevermind the fact he’s pushing thirty and still unemployed,” shoko throws in her two cents, takeout back in her lap as she breaks open a new set of chopsticks, “he’s one more ‘tap in’ away from getting caught by the feds.”

“how much y’all wanna bet he’s at the club right now as we speak?” it’s a rhetorical question, but utahime pauses her waxing to check. with sticky fingers, she taps away at her phone, and with a knowing smile she yelps, tilting her screen towards you three, “aha!— and there goes the infamous money spread.”

“cornballllll.” shoko cringes.

you’re filled with dread and shame at the sight presented. god— every single chance you gave this man, he spun around and somehow does worse. it’s not like the two of you were together— never officially, but the sole fact that you’ve let this man treat you as if you were his girl haunts you. you’ve let countless of bullshit slide all because his stroke game came second within all the men you’ve dealt with.

the only thing you’ll give him besides a being a good lay is that you’ve never had issues concerning other women. he’s a very transparent guy— you’ve yet to receive a “hey girlie. . .” text from anybody. though, it isn’t like either of you have ever dropped any hard launches. it was mostly content that only close friends could catch onto— the interior design of his car, your latest set of nails, subtle shots of his tattoos, your purses and jewelry. nothing evident but pretty obvious to those who know.

if sukuna was still cool with him, however. . . yeah, he’d definitely know, considering the fact he purchased most of the purses you own. that’s excluding the fact your favorite necklace, the one with your name engraved, the one you always wear, was also bought by him.

“move,” you push utahime’s hand away from your peripheral, slumping further into the couch. embarrassment floods you yet again, and you drown it away with more wine. much to your chagrin, they spare no mercy as they giggle at your pout, “not too much on me— shoko, you’re literally the one who put me on!”

“don’t do that,” she rolls her eyes, picking at the orange chicken on her platter. you have half a mind at chucking your drink at her. “all i told you was to fuck him. nobody said anything about keeping him around.”

“instructions: unclear,” utahime giggles, smearing another coat of wax mixture onto her calves. “she’s now a year deep into a situationship with a man who files for disability checks to blow on parlays.”

you spring up in your seat, your wine nearly spilling on shoko in your excitement, “shit, i never told you guys!”

“told us what?” yuki kills the blunt in the ash tray, and stretches an arm to grab at her food. she knocks over a few emptied bottles as they roll on the carpet, and winces when one of them knock at shoko’s knee, “my fault girl.”

shoko clicks her tongue, but you loop your arms around her neck as you proceed, “before you bitches attacked me for literally just being a girl,” you decide ignore the way they all groan, “i was trying to tell you all why i finally ended shit with him.”

“well don’t hold back now!” utahime eggs on.

“guess what i found out,” you set the empty wine glass back onto the table. you’re most likely gonna need your hands in this specific conversation, “he bet thirty thousand dollars on the super bowl game— and lost.”

the room falls quiet. utahime pauses in her ripping, yuki drops her noodles from her chopsticks and shoko nearly chokes on her wine. amidst it all, three pairs of eyes slowly crawl to meet your gaze, in complete disbelief at what you’d told them.

“are you deadass?” shoko speaks first, her facial expression almost incredulous. her eyes are teary from her food slipping through the wrong tube. “you’re playing, right? right?”

“she has to be. . . this is a new level of low even for him.” yuki shakes her head, most likely in attempts to give him the benefit of the doubt. you don’t blame her— no sane person would drop thirty grand on a fucking betting app of all things— and on top of that, lose.

“i wish i was?!” you groan, still upset, “the worst part is that he told me that money was supposed to be deposit money for a condo he’d been,” you raise your fingers in air quotes, “looking into.”

“you know what though? this doesn’t actually surprise me,” utahime laughs, as if she hadn’t been in a daze for a solid minute. she rips at the strip, and winces, “didn’t i just say he was getting checks to place on parlays? frank gallagher looking ass.”

“but thirty thousand?” yuki emphasizes, blinking rapidly in her disbelief, “what the fuck would possess somebody to bet thirty grand on anything?”

“grown ass man, by the way.” shoko mumbles mindlessly, before chowing down some more food. you can’t find it in yourself to disagree.

utahime nods, blowing a puff of air, “on god, bro. don’t he got mortgages to pay off or some shit?”

yuki shoots her a deadpanned look, “girl, with what house.”

and that had been your final straw with him. not the fact he lived in his mother’s basement despite clearly having money to rent out a place, or the fact he was still flexing bands he allegedly has on the gram— but blowing all your money on a fucking football game. and losing. you do respect yourself, as much as these girls believe you don’t. a man with no ambitions and no money? you need to run and far.

“i’ll miss his dick though.” you pout, the alcohol already coursing through your body. being wine drunk always made you horny, that was a known fact, and letting go of one of your greatest eaters was not on your bingo card. naturally, the girls roll their eyes at your antics, “boo me all you want— he horsed me the fuck around in bed.”

“you used to say the same shit about gojo,” utahime points out, rising to her feet as she grabs the used strips in her hold, before circling around the couch, “and look how that ended up.”

technically. . . she wasn’t exactly wrong but that still stung a bit. “hime, seriously?” shoko rolls her eyes, and you feel her hand rubbing at your foot soothingly. her motions are a little stiff but you appreciate the sentiment, “we get you don’t fuck with him but he was still her man. and basically my friend, kinda.”

you hear her wince in the kitchen, followed by footsteps, “right. . . sorry girlie.” she runs back to you after throwing the waste away, and kisses at your temple. she doesn’t comment on the pout on your lips. “i didn’t mean it. . . okay maybe i did, but i’m still sorry!”

your history with gojo was complicated. you’d met him through shoko in your third year of college, at a kickback party hosted by his people. it’d been an invite only thing, but shoko had brought you along as a plus one, and you both instantly connected. as far as you were concerned, it was technically supposed to be a sneaky link vibe, but you soon learned gojo was anything but sneaky. in fact, he was so vocal in him wanting you, that he actually did end up getting you a couple months later.

he’s a year older than you, therefore he’d graduated a year ahead. the separation in itself was something you hadn’t looked forward to at all, but he had found himself a condo downtown, not too far from your residency, therefore seeing each other hadn’t been an issue. he always made it clear he wanted to see you— even after gruelling nine to five shifts in the office. his words matched his actions, driving you up to his place since yours had a stupid curfew policy for visitors.

(you’ve kept him in your dorm numerous times.) (your closet has suffered enough with his lanky ass.)

the first year worked out for the better. he was still welcomed to the parties you invited him to, he made time in his schedule help you with your studies, planned consist dates and even took you out on trips. he was physically, mentally and emotionally present— and you genuinely believed he would be your forever man when you’d introduced him to your parents at your graduation ceremony and he seemed thrilled. they adored him— and that says a lot considering they hated all your other exes. with good reason, but still.

it’d been the honeymoon phase until it wasn’t.

you expected arguments. those are inevitable in relationships, but with every argument he grew distant. you were now both graduated students juggling between jobs, rent and a relationship. it was a lot— your schedules never seemed to align which jumbled into multiple failed dates, which further escalated into more arguments. it hadn’t always been him, you could agree you were at fault too. that post graduation depression spiralled worst than you’d anticipated— the fear of falling behind when your boyfriend had already been successful so early into his career entirely consuming.

he reassured you plenty, but you could see it in his face as he spoke to you— he was exhausted. of work. of life. of you. he had bigger fish to fry than dealing with a workaholic girlfriend with low self esteem. the bigger the promotion, the less your value. you’d seen this play out before— it was less i love you’s and more hours in the office. less dinner dates and more project plannings.

the more time you spent by yourself, the more your mind began overthinking. you had no place in his life anymore. you didn’t resent him for it— you wish nothing but the best for him. he deserves to be successful in life, and he’s already so close to it. your slacking behind is nothing more than dead weight in his rise to the top.

the breakup had been anticipated. you’d broken up with him first. he never asked you to explain why. he nodded, never uttering a word. it’d been the first time you’d seen him in weeks. you kept it simple, “we should break up.” and he kept it even simpler, a curt bounce of the head in agreement. as quick as he’d entered your apartment, he left.

and that’d honestly been it. you’d been together for four years, and broken up for a year and a half. after all this time, you still don’t resent him for it. he made the rational choice in prioritizing himself and his future, and you simply didn’t fit in it. it took you quite some time to work on yourself as well, and you’re honestly satisfied with where you are in life. the breakup clearly worked in favour for you both.

it sucks that he was genuinely the only man you ever cared about. the only man you can confidently say you loved.

“look— now you got her thinking about him!” shoko complains, chucking the nearest thing— a throw pillow, at utahime. it hits her square in the face, to which she lets out a muffled oof! “way to fucking go.”

you blink out of your thoughts. well that’s embarrassing, you got caught up in the past again. you lift yourself from the slumping position you’d unintentionally fallen into the midst of daydreaming, “shit, my bad. got flashbacks to that time he ate me off the bone after his first promotion.”

“yo, what?!” yuki hollers, falling into a fit of laughter. shoko rolls her eyes so much you’re thinking it’ll get stuck at the back of her skull and utahime physically cringed from head to toe. “so fucking unserious— here we are, worried about your ass and here you go, upset you lost your best eater.”

not exactly, though there was some truth to her words. gojo was your best eater, and nobody’s topped him since. he really did tongue fuck you that night like you were the boss who raised his pay. but it wasn’t just the sex you missed— you wholeheartedly missed him. the closest thing to a soul bond you’ve experienced, now gone.

they don’t need to know all that though.

“oh come on,” utahime groans, picking at her nails. trust her to find any reason to slander your ex. for what reason? she’s never told you other than him annoying the fuck out of her, “he could not have been that great. it can’t be anything you can’t find elsewhere— plenty of men eat pussy.”

“okay but do they enjoy eating it or is it more of a duty thing?” yuki points out, rolling her thumb on her lighter mindlessly. she watches the flame arise, casting a soft glow on the sheet stuck to her face, “because you can definitely tell the difference. one eats for foreplay, the other eats for his own pleasure.”

shoko hums in agreement, still poking at her plate, “a man versus a munch,” and with a beat of silence, she takes a deep sigh, throwing her head back, “i should call him.”

“no! no you should not,” utahime laughs, before shooting you a glance. your smile quickly falters and is switched with a look of confusion as she points a nail filer in your direction, “and you,” you cock a brow, “stop thinking about him. we’re supposed to be independent women, y’all need to stand the fuck up.”

“hime, please, you were literally just complaining to your close friends about your latest dry spell.”

“irrelevant!” she dismisses yuki, waving a hand absentmindedly. you don’t see how it’s irrelevant exactly, but you let her proceed. “we are sexy, successful and strong women. stop relying on the past and focus on the future. there are bitches that fought for their lives for the freedom we have! you could literally get dick anywhere— they actually have apps for it, if you didn’t know—”

“so tell us, o’mighty one,” shoko cuts her off, “are you suggesting we download tinder to relieve our stress?”

she remains quiet, and you can see the gears churning in her head. you’re about ninety nine percent positive shoko was fucking around, but the scrunch in your friend’s eyebrows tells you she’s seriously contemplating the idea, “. . yes actually.” she finally decides.

“hime. . .” shoko groans, but is effectively cut off when she springs up to her knees to grab at her phone.

“no, seriously, think about it!” she scrolls through her phone like a maniac, searching through the app store and typing the name in. you all watch her incredulously, her enthusiasm in the matter as if she hadn’t been preaching about feminism half a minute ago, “i’ve met some of my best lays in college through tinder. i haven’t been on this app in years though.”

you don’t see why not. you were pretty tipsy and would never have agreed to this under typical conditions, however it could be regarded as a bonding activity. you also haven’t been on tinder since before your last relationship, and the shit sukuna put you through this past year was enough to make you want to deal with literally anything else.

“i’m down.” you pull out your phone, and shoko may have gotten whiplash with how quick she snaps her head back to eye you. you shrug your shoulders, “we don’t have to take this shit seriously— god knows i’m not entertaining anybody on this app for real.”

“exactly!” utahime nods, walking up to scoot herself beside you. she nudges at shoko with her foot, who flicks at her toes to keep her away, “it’s just for shits and giggles.”

“i’m definitely not doing this shit,” yuki crawls to sit at the couch’s feet, right at shoko’s side, and grabs at the remote sitting uselessly on the table, “but i will be watching you both embarrass yourselves.”

“the only other bitch with common sense here.” shoko sprawls her legs onto yuki’s lap. she receives a slap at the back of her head by utahime, and naturally she slaps the hand right back. “can’t stand that little fucker sometimes.”

“aweee, love you too!” she blows a kiss at her to which she receives a middle finger. you snort, eyes glued on your screen as you redownload that forsaken app back into your phone.

you’d probably regret it in the morning, but that was something saturday you would have to deal with. as of right now, with white wine in your system, logic was not an option. you were learning to live more in the moment, and apparently that starts with the corniest dating app in the world.

it’s not like you’d magically stumble upon your ex on the platform. now wouldn’t that be something? ha!

there’s no fucking way.

this had to be one big, fat cosmic joke. a cruel prank, even. and if it was, then the universe had a twisted sense of humour. you still don’t believe it— were the girls in on this? this kind of shit didn’t just happen to anybody.

it took about a total of twenty minutes between logging back into your old account, updating your password and bio, and swiping left on passing profiles until you landed on it. on. . . him.

you blink slowly. your phone is shaky beneath your unstable hands, and you’re pretty sure you’ve been holding your breath in far longer than recommended for the average human. it’s quiet as fuck in the room— despite the three girls huddled over your shoulders, sticking their noses in all directions to get a clearer view of your illuminating screen— almost as if to confirm if what they were seeing was truly was they were seeing, as if this was all too fucking ironic to be true.

there’s a knot of anxiousness that simmers in the pits of your stomach. you’re pretentiously aware that even the slightest movement— one wrong click or swipe, would ultimately change everything. there was too much at risk here. “oh there’s no fucking way. . .” shoko speaks up first.

utahime leans in impossibly closer, a few centimetres away from fully emerging with your iphone as her nose scrunches, “way too sexy? fuck around and find out? god, he’s still so corny, i swear.”

your eyes trail over his biography, curiously. that “way2sexy” had been an inside joke you both shared years ago— back when drake had dropped one of gojo’s favourite albums, certified loverboy. he overplayed the shit out of that song when it came out, so much that you received multiple complaints from your RA for “public disturbance”, but he swore it worked as daily affirmations for him in the same sense crystals and tarot cards worked for spiritual girlies. you called him corny for it, but before you knew it, it’d shown up in your spotify wrapped the following year.

rapid memories of morning rays of light peeking through blinds, a groggy yet mysteriously clear “alexa, play way 2 sexy” as you fixed your sheets and lit your candles, fighting over who gets to spit toothpaste residue first, hearty laughter to fumbled lyrics, shared minty kisses paired with one “gimme one more” too many.

the ache clenching at your heart is hard to ignore.

“i would give him the benefit of the doubt in believing he hasn’t updated his account,” yuki draws out, eyes narrowing as a finger sticks out to point, “but his age matches. emoticons as a grown man. . . no shade though.”

his age did match. inside joke aside, none of it was adding up. if he already had his account set up years ago, had he willingly changed his bio to one of your most infamous gags after the breakup? if you were to swipe right right now, would it instantly match? you don’t think you want to figure it out— both possible outcomes scaring you shitless.

“should i swipe left?” you speak uncharacteristically softly, torn between the idea of tucking your tail inwards and running away from the opportunity or your typical it is what it is mentality.

“yes! obviously— mmmph?!”

“do you want to?” shoko, with a pillow stuffing an agitated utahime in the face, counters. between all the girls, she seemed to understand you the most, granted her own relationship with the man. you’re sure he had given her his own version of their breakup, how you’d opened the doors to endless opportunities for him, had given him the easy way out. you never bothered asking her, afraid of the illusion you’d created to shield yourself shattering, “only you have the answer to that.”

“i honestly don’t know,” you sigh, joints in your thumb aching from hovering over your screen for too long. swiping left meant completely abandoning any the possibility of the two of you as one. you don’t want that responsibility weighted on your shoulders again, “what if he’s moved on? the shit that’ll do to my ego if i swipe right and he passes on me?”

shoko finally grants her friend the permission of speech, freeing her off the couch decoration, though the look she gives her serves as a warning to tread lightly. with a heavy breath, utahime releases a puff, “i’d crashout, just sayin’.”

“but what if he hasn’t moved on?” yuki poses, and apparently that was all the confirmation you needed to swipe. fuck pride— pride wasn’t going to get your back blown out. pride wasn’t going to help you get the love of your life back. pride can go fuck itself.

“wait—”

utahime is cut off again, however, not by shoko but tinder itself. the notification pings loudly, resonating in depths of your ear cavity and shoots straight to your chest. you can feel your heart pounding wildly against your rib cage. it’s so silent you can hear a pin drop, and the way your gut churns gives away the end result to your spontaneity.

it’s a match.

“well. . . shit.” shoko slumps back into the couch nonchalantly, and you don’t need to see her to know she’s sporting a smirk. you do feel her knee knock into yours. fake ass idgafer.

you’re no better, biting down your bottom in order to suppress the smile itching to spread. a year later and the sole idea that he’d already came across the same mindset as you, willing to give whatever it was that needed a second shot, had you beyond delusional. god, you need help.

“look at youuu, cheesin’ and shit!” yuki pokes at your cheek and you swat her hand away, ultimately caving into the smile. fuck yeah you were geeked— it’s hard carrying a nonchalant attitude when you were an honest to god, soft hearted lovergirl. if you played your cards right, with a few lash bats and glossy lips, you’d be getting dicked down in no time.

“i’m gonna be sick.” utahime deadpans.

“and i’m getting dickkk,” you sing, jumping to your feet as you stood on the couch. you turn around, hands clutching onto the headrest, giving your ass a cute shake as it rotates in circular motions. you feel shoko’s hand tapping it encouragingly, her phone illuminating as it records while she rests her head on your moving thighs. you hear yuki cackle, pulling out her phone to film as well. you giggle, “rip that pussy!”

“ayeeee!” they complete the lyrics, and the vibes are restored yet again, girly giggles filling the room. when your legs begin to feel wobbly, you stop your twerking to plop yourself right back down, leaning your head onto shoko’s shoulder.

you hear her click her tongue as the recording of your ass graces her screen, and she groans, “gojo is one lucky bastard— he can’t handle all that.”

he most definitely can, and has. you’ll opt with shrugging in the meantime.

“with that being said,” utahime jumps in, crossing her legs, “what’s the next move here? you reaching out first?”

your lips straighten as your mind reflects. if you still know him as well as you think you do, he’s definitely going to text you first as soon as he sees the green light. sure, you were anxious for a reply, desperate to check what his temperature was— but you’d already sacrificed a grand amount of dignity just swiping right. he could do take on the role of texting first.

“nah, i’m almost a hundred percent sure he’ll—”

ping!

you all whip your heads to the source of the sound. your phone. the screen shines as it undergoes facial recognition, and exposes the messenger. from tinder. gojo. sending you a message. just as you’d expected.

you can’t help the cocky smile, eyes trailing at their perplexed faces, “—text me first.”

naturally, the girls are impressed. even you are— that timing? would it be insane to genuinely be considering gojo might honest to god be your soulmate? yuki blows a puff of air, followed by a laugh, “your pussy has to be magical cause what the fuck?”

“ladies and gentlemen,” utahime stands to her feet, fisting her hand into an imaginary microphone, and addresses her fake crowd. in the hostiest voice she can muster, she curtsies as she continues in comedic fashion, “miss pussy fairy in thee flesh.”

“put a stamp on it.” shoko shakes her head in acknowledgment, laying her own phone in her lap as she claps. yuki places two fingers in her mouth and whistles at you, to which you rise to your own feet and dramatically place a hand over your chest in faux humility.

“oh please!” you flatter yourself, tucking your hair behind your ear. you smile behind your palm, your improv classes in high school coming in clutch, “this is too much— thank you! thank you deeply.”

“girl, byeee,” utahime breaks character first, giggling as she sits back onto the abandoned bean bag. you mimic her motions, as she pops open a stray water bottle and swallows a big gulp, “open his text! i wanna see what he said!”

you’re in the same boat, thumbing at your phone to unlock it and open the app. naturally the girls hover over you yet again, just as eager to see how he finally broke the no contact phase. it took him less than three minutes to slide in your messages, as the option had finally been granted.

right as your thumb hovers the message, a hum draws out your throat, “how much y’all wanna bet it’s something corny?” you tease, something close to a hunch giving it away. seeing as your assumptions were deemed accurate just a few minutes ago, the only way he’d think of clearing the ice would be with something plausibly lame.

“open itttt!” utahime ushers you, hands clamping at your shoulders. you roll your eyes, letting her dramatics sway your body back and forth before she lets up. you let out a sigh, and open the unanswered message.

and just as you’d predicted. . .

@gsatoru: they say shooters shoot 👀

“oh brotherrrr,” the girls groan in sync, and even you can’t stop the cringe that stiffens your face. if there’s one thing that hasn’t changed, it’s the fact he still doesn’t act his age. he needs to let those college days go.

“now, what’d i tell y’all.” you tut, leaving out the part of nostalgia simmering deep and warmly in your bones at his predictability. ever the goofy he was, gojo satoru. jeez.

“i was really found myself rooting for him too,” shoko sighs, rising to her feet. she dusts at her lap then stretches her limbs lazily, “i’m gonna go pee— hime, i swear to god, don’t take my seat.” she doesn’t look back to flip her off when she hears utahime blow raspberries her way. to which, against shoko’s wishes, leaps over to snatch her seat.

both you and yuki give her a deadpanned look, but yuki voices out your thoughts, “she’s gonna get on your ass and i’m not helping you out.”

“girl, boo.” utahime rolls her eyes, “more importantly, what the fuck do you answer to that?” her nail taps at your phone screen, peering at you expectantly through lashes.

you consider your options. do you reciprocate the same energy or do you call him out on his corniness? matching his vibe would be like starting off a blank slate— a new start, new conversations, something almost superficial. like a fling you meet at the bars for one night of fuckery that you regret the next morning. but calling him out would induce in falling into familiar patterns— calling him a cornball while he attempts to sweet talk you, old conversations brought up, risking broken boundaries for the sake of reminiscing.

decisions, decisions, decisions.

“i’m thinking taking the easy way out.” you nod your head, readying your fingers as you type your response out.

you miss the exchanged glances between utahime and yuki, too busy trying to format how to come off playful but not forgetful. flirty but not desperate. come pull up on me but demurely. well you’ll be damned— in what world had you ever expected second guessing yourself for gojo?

“what’s the easy way out?” yuki asks, and you hit send. where this confidence comes from is beyond you, but any error you make you can blame on the wine (you’re hardly fazed but it’s nice to have something to pin the blame on instead of yourself) (old habits die hard).

you tilt your phone, holding it out as you watch the girls’ brows furrow, eyes scanning over the screen. when their faces contort into a look of amusement mixed with horror, a girly giggle escapes your throat.

@yourstrulyname: sukuna ryomen wsp with you?? 🙈

“you didn’t!” utahime hollers, her laughter so intense she doubled over to clutch at her stomach. yuki sways her body back and forth as she finds herself in a hysterical fit as well. “goddd, i would kill to see the look on his face right now.”

“yooo, that’s evil.” the blonde swipes at a tear. “woulda had me deactivating the whole account.”

“who’s deactivating?” shoko pops back in, not without slapping utahime upside the head. she ignores the way utahime complains in favour to swipe a nearly emptied bottle to pour.

“it’s not even that bad,” you defend yourself, flashing her your screen as she installs herself in the bean bag utahime once occupied. her eyes squint as she reads the conversation, nearly bulging out their sockets when she catches your message, “nahhh, don’t give me that!”

“if he gives you the time of day after that,” shoko swirls the wine in her glass, snorting, “he must really still be in love with you.”

“he should know i’m playing. . .” you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince the girls, him or yourself. you really were just joking around— albeit a terrible joke, but one regardless! sukuna was officially removed from the roster, a financially irresponsible man never standing a chance against you, “right?”

“don’t ask us?” utahime chimes in, uselessly, to which you roll your eyes. well shit, maybe you should double text? let him know you were just fooling around, trying to check temperatures and establish the mood. your phone pings again, and all unnecessary thoughts are thrown out the window.

@gsatoru: oh so you got jokes now?

as you’re about to let him know you’ve been had jokes, but never the goofy type, you see the bubbles pop up, a telltale that he’s got more to tell you. you let him have it, already having possibly fumbled the mission before even starting. it feels like an eternity and a half waiting on his text, the girls having huddled over you yet again, just as curious to see what he had to counter with.

@gsatoru: can’t be a joke if the guy had you outside on valentine’s day tho. stk steakhouse? really girl?

your jaw falls slack. you watch with burning eyes at your screen as your built up suspicions were ultimately confirmed. okay, so those two were still somehow connected. you didn’t like to question male friendships, the lack of loyalty not one you’d ever understand. god forbid you ever started fucking with utahime’s ex of many years.

“wait. .” said girl speaks up, drawing the word out as she processes his answer. her tongue rolls around in her mouth, face cringing as the next words follow, “i can’t lie, he kinda ate you up.”

“just sassy as fuck,” shoko laughs, and it’s one of those giggles reserved to shit she honestly finds hilarious, “really girl is crazy. all comfortably like he’s one of your homegirls.”

“now what’s wrong with stk’s?” yuki grumbles, picking at her nails with a childish pout on her lips, “everybody isn’t born with a silver spoon plugged up our asses. god, i can’t stand rich people.”

you don’t bother answering the girls, already aware he chewed with his response, that he’s as sassy as he was years ago and that he had found that particular steakhouse shabby despite it being a fucking steakhouse. these were things you already knew. your thumbs proceed before your mind can register,

@yourstrulyname: been keeping tabs on me?

“you don’t look too happy,” shoko pokes at your cheek. there’s an ache creasing in your forehead, and you relax the furrow of your brows. you’re not exactly upset, just a bit on edge with his approach— you can’t tell whether he’s on tens or not. whether he’s genuinely joking around or not.

“i’m fine.” you poke back, and she nods. she ushers the other girls to pick a new movie to play, and you clock this is her way of allowing you some privacy between exes. you shoot her a grateful look, and she offers a sly wink. you’ll make sure to update her on whatever happens as soon as it’s over.

you switch your ringer off, and open his new message.

@gsatoru: hard not to when he posts you like he has smth to prove

@yourstrulyname: who said it was me?

you knew it was you. you knew he knew it was you. but still, you wanted to hear it from him yourself, wanted to know if he really was keeping tabs on you ever since the breakup. it’d help ease your mind with unanswered questions.

@gsatoru: you mean besides the bags and jewelry i got you?

@gsatoru: your build was a dead giveaway. could recognize you blindfolded in a room full of women

you bit your lip. you could work with this text, play around with it and see if shit flips. would he fall for the bait? you’ll start off slow, create an opening and see if he decides to indulge.

@yourstrulyname: like what you saw?

he answers instantly and your heart sinks a bit.

@gsatoru: of course

@gsatoru: you’re as a beautiful as the day you left me

is that how he saw it? you assume you did leave him in a practical sense, but there was no way he hadn’t seen it coming miles away. you had both been caught up in your lives, the additional stress of romance an unwanted factor in the rise of your careers. so yeah, you’d given him the opportunity to leave. it’s not as if he fought it anyway, so did you really leave him if he’d closed the door on his merry way out?

this was starting to get personal. toeing between the line of uncharted territory and familiarity. everything you didn’t want— debriefing the logic behind the underwhelming breakup on tinder of all places was out of the fucking question.

@yourstrulyname: you still cool with sukuna?

@gsatoru: something like that

@gsatoru: he’s slimey as fuck for sliding on you tho

you figured as much. you couldn’t imagine a world where gojo wouldn’t feel some type of way at his friend going after his ex girlfriend a couple months fresh off a breakup. he probably felt the same way towards you, the difference being one owes him more loyalty than the other.

@yourstrulyname: and what does that make me?

@gsatoru: did he mean something to you?

he didn’t. you think of the importance of somebody meaning something to you— the fear of losing that person larger than life itself. the joy of waking up in that person’s arms on a rainy morning. the vulnerability in bonding souls with that person. the relief your body undergoes as it melts in that person’s embrace.

he didn’t mean shit to you.

@yourstrulyname: no

@gsatoru: then that makes you someone who made a choice

neutral and impassive. you wondered if he truly meant that. in a sense, you assume he really did mature.

@yourstrulyname: so he’s in the wrong but i’m not?

@gsatoru: who am i to assign right from wrong? you’re both adults at the end of the day

you don’t know what to answer to that. there was a lot of truth to his words— you were both consenting adults with choices made. jeez, just what had gojo gone through all these months that made him none the wiser? you’re considering leaving him on opened for a while, at least until you come up with an answer to that philosophical ass message, when he double texts you.

@gsatoru: this is so backwards lmaoo. what’s good with you? how’ve you been?

so he realized it too. thank fuck— skipping small talk and diving into the nitty gritty this late at night was not how you expected your night to go. the girls had completely forgotten your predicament, invested in the latest reality tv show flashing on your flat screen.

@yourstrulyname: been good. you?

@gsatoru: wow you’re as dry as ever

@gsatoru: life’s been blessed, could be better tho. too much to explain over text

oh? was this what you were thinking it was?

@yourstrulyname: what are you getting at, gojo?

@gsatoru: gojo? so it’s fuck me then

@gsatoru: not getting at anything. ball’s in your court, yn

so it was. you contemplate it for a second— should you invite him over tonight? the girls won’t be upset about kicking them out, and if anything they’d encourage you to call them as soon as it’s over. you suppose your doubts lie within the idea of having your ex boyfriend back into your territory. in the comfort of your home, a home he’d once already graced.

as scary as it sounded, you also desperately craved seeing him. it’d been a solid eighteen months since you’ve broken up, and thirteen since you’ve last seen him entirely. ironically, around the time you started getting involved with sukuna. you weren’t sure if it was your heart or pussy talking, but laying up in bed with this man was not something you were against.

fuck it.

@yourstrulyname: you know where i stay at

and his response comes instantly.

@gsatoru: be there in half an hour.

oh fuck.

“yo. . .” you speak up, for the first time in a few minutes. the girls turn their heads, acknowledging you, as you shut your phone close and chuck it across the sofa. “i love y’all but y’all gotta go, like now.”

shoko shakes her head, but there’s a smirk on her lips. utahime, as lost as ever, gives you a frown. yuki has most likely caught on, rising to her feet, dusting her lap, “say no more.”

the girls do you an immense favour as they excuse themselves. they pick at empty bottles and containers, throw dirty dishes in the dishwasher, rearrange the throw pillows and even light up your candles. you feel bad for kicking them out so late, so you pitch in some money for gas as well as the inconvenience.

as they cleaned out your living room and kitchen, you’d rushed to your shower for a mini cleanse. pulling out your bests, you wash over intimate parts thoroughly, lathering your limbs in scented soap, before rinsing, brushing your teeth and stepping out. you stare at your reflection through the haze of steam, the foggy mirror reminding you of the missing messages he used to leave on mornings you had to get to work.

no point in dwelling on the past when he was on his way over this moment. you swap your silk robe for the skimpiest loungewear you own— matching camisole and shorts, and let your hair cascade back down. you’re about your fifth spritz of body spray when the doorbell rings, and your stomach flutters.

you halt in your step when you notice how fast you’re going. yikes! the last thing he needs is his ego inflating, knowing you were rushing to get him inside, nevermind the fact you washed, pulled out your sexiest pyjamas and even wore a brand new pair of panties. you know. . . just for preparations. better safe than sorry.

after the third mindless lap around your kitchen, you make your way towards the door. you inhale sharply, clenching at your shaky fingers, easing your nerves. you quickly snap out of your daze, pulling the door open.

his eyes, momentarily distracted by the number engraved in the wall next to your door, glaze over your figure curiously. his hands are tucked in the pocket of his sweatpants. he lets out a breath, a sound borderlining a chuckle as it shoots straight to both heartbeats, shoulders drop from its hunch,

“hey.”

he’s thick.

no perverted shit. you’ve noticed he’s put on weight in the right places— not to say he’d been anything less than nicely built in the past, but his biceps are significantly fuller and the material of his compression tee stretched over bulging muscles in a telltale pattern.

somebody’s been at the gym one too many.

“you good with this?” he mumbles, hand running across the smooth skin of your calf. with every stroke of his palm are fleeting memories of the past, burning deep into your limb. you hate the way your stomach sinks st the thought, “me being here and shit.”

“wouldn’t have let you in if i wasn’t.” you answer honestly, back pressed into the arm of the couch. you don’t understand how fast he’d gotten comfortable with being in your personal space just like that— you don’t understand how you’d allowed him in your personal space just like that.

he nods, and the air is eerily quiet. you watch with furrowed brows as he traces shapes into your skin with his fingertip, a frenzy of emotions resembling those of turbulence all in cerulean eyes. he’s torn— you can see it in the way his nose scrunches, as if he’s debating on whether he should voice out his thoughts or not. whether it’s worth debriefing— if this is his last shot or not.

with all this time passed, he’s still so easy to read.

“what is it?” you sigh, albeit irritated. the last thing you’d planned when you got rid of your friends in favour of having your ex over was this weird ass tension roaming. crazy sentence to speak— you know, but you were really hoping it’d be less talking involved and more sexing. it wasn’t that you were against conversing with him, but the way he was choosing to go about it was just so. . . awkward .

he senses the irritation laced in your question and immediately chuckles. his laugh sounds breathless, almost dry, but he shakes his head. his free hand swipes at his nose, a tic of his you noticed years ago whenever he’s feeling bashful or caught, and clears his throat.

“how’d you and sukuna happen?” he rips off the bandaid, and asks you the last question you wanted to hear. the tracing on your leg slows down, and your arms tighten a bit around your torso.

you let out a puff of air. if gojo notices your discomfort, he doesn’t mention it. in fact, he doesn’t pull the question back at all— he stares at you intensely, as if baring into your soul, as if the answer to his question will determine whether the boulder weighted on his shoulders will free him of restraint or not.

as if he still stood a chance or not.

“not much to say,” you shrug, as dismissive as possible. he doesn’t budge, the same intensity in his gaze and you roll your eyes, “honest to god. we broke up, he was there at the right time and shit happened.”

the words simmer into the stillness of the night, and he swipes his tongue over his lips pensively, “were y’all ever official?” he pushes, and you click your tongue against your teeth, offering him a deadpanned look. seriously, as if he didn’t know his own friend— in what world was sukuna anything worthy of official?

“god, no.” you shudder, and he nods again. “you know your friend.”

“i don’t,” gojo counters, momentarily wrapping his hand around your ankle. it fits as perfectly as it did all those years ago, where thumbs at your anklet— another prized possession he’d gotten you. your face heats in embarrassment, and he flicks his eyes to glance at you, a fleeting smirk on his lips, before staring back at the jewelry, “going after my ex girlfriend is not something i expected. i don’t know him at all.”

fair enough, you think to yourself. there has to be some lingering resentment towards you for the same reason. had the tables been turned and he’d gone after one of your closest friends, you would’ve cut him off from your life completely. you were being truthful— it wasn’t anything remotely serious with sukuna, not even close to how it’d been with gojo, but you could see it as a matter of principle. you’d already taken the initiative to break up with him first, and going after his homeboy?

god, you had questionable morals.

“it’s different with you,” he feeds in, as if he could read your thoughts. it was probably written all over your face, the scrunch in your brows never letting up. his index finger slides beneath the band of your anklet, the contrast of the silver shade lining perfectly against his complexion, “‘s hard to explain, but you broke up with me so you technically owe me no loyalty— besides, i get why you ended things. never blamed you.”

now that peaks your interest. he gets why you ended things with him? he never blamed you? you clear your throat, forcing the question out, “you do?”

“of course,” he shrugs naturally, as if it hadn’t taken you eons to conclude. as if it hadn’t broke you apart when you’d realized how unneeded you were, “i honestly expected it. you deserved better than what i was giving. you must’ve been lonely— work had always taken a big part of my time, and that left you behind in the dust.”

you’re waiting for the punchline. he continues, “i can’t lie to you— i was wishing you’d resort to cheating over breaking up. that way you’d still be mine, even if it was temporarily,” he chuckles, a soft shade of pink dusting over his cheekbones, as he sniffs, “corny, i know. but you didn’t deserve putting up with my bullshit, so you left. time is of the essence, and that was the one thing i never seemed to give you. you fell out of it— out of love, so. . . i’m sorry.”

words cannot seem to leave you. you’re left utterly speechless— that had been so far from the reason, the realization sitting bitterly at the pit of your stomach. anything, literally anything, would’ve been better than hearing him lie to you again.

“that. . .” you inhale a sharp breath, steadying yourself, “is nowhere near the reason why we broke up.”

he stops in his caress. you think he got whiplash from how fast his neck snaps, eyeing you incredulously. he genuinely seems so confused, and you hate it. to think he’d show up with some lame ass excuse, so far stretched from the truth of the matter, and expected you to believe that. to believe him.

he blinks slowly, “i don’t understand.”

you try to pull your leg away from his lap, feeling like he was stripping you bare of the last bit of dignity you had left, wanting to rip you open. he presses the weight of his hand lightly, urging you to stay near while simultaneously giving you the option to pull away. the ball was in your court yet again.

“wait— help me understand,” the pad of his thumb rolls over your ankle bone gently— far too intimately. your feet curl away, protectively, and his fingers stroke at the ball of your heel, “please. what drove you away? what was it i did?”

there’s a pang in your chest. does he really plan on keeping this up? right in your face? it was one thing wishing him well despite the obvious, but dragging it out even a year later was a bit much. inviting him over was starting to seem like a terrible idea.

“i fell out of love?” you parrot, unbelieving. “gojo— i’m not the one who fell out of anything. i gave you a way out, and you happily took it,” his face contorts into a deeper state of confusion. you huff, “i’m not blaming you for it or anything, but shit, don’t get up in here with lies to cover your ass.”

“lies?” he whispers, to himself, running his free fingers through tousled white locks. he stares at your anklet hardly, like the gift has all the answers he’s looking for. you don’t think he’s avoiding eye contact, but he seems so distraught, so out of the loop, that broadway ought to sign him to a new movie deal. what an actor.

“time is of the essence and you failed to give it?” you continue regardless, throat restricting as it burns in an emotion you’re far too familiar with. suddenly, you feel like you’re twenty five again, left to your own devices and thoughts in the emptiness of his apartment, dressed in your prettiest outfit and another failed date night. “i never gave a shit about that, i knew how much of a hardworking man you were. i took it to the chest— anything to keep you from leaving. you stopped loving me, gojo.”

his jaw falls slack, mouth gaping and you blink your lashes furiously to prevent tears from appearing. god, this was so humiliating, bearing your heart raw in front of your ex boyfriend, “y/n, i never—”

“spare me,” you scoff, mortified by the rush of emotions coursing through you. you take a deep breath in, calming yourself to avoid further explosive feelings, “this isn’t me saying i was the perfect girlfriend. i know i wasn’t— you know i wasn’t, and piling a spiralling partner on top of all the shit you were dealing with wasn’t an option. that’s fine,” it was fine. it didn’t matter, “doesn’t matter anymore. i broke up with you, you didn’t fight to stay, and we both moved on. shit happens.”

it hurt a lot. the sound of the door clicking shut, followed by the crack splitting in your chest. the run towards your bathroom, emptying your contents from both your stomach and heart. you were undeniably a mess, that period of time it took for you to recover. you would never voice it out loud, but you’d been praying he’d tell you just how wrong you were. how he needed you in his life. how you weren’t a burden to him. how he loved you enough to fight through it all.

he hadn’t.

there’s a soft hum in the silence. the sound of your clock ticking near the entrance door. the pounding of your heart against your rib cage. seconds turn into minutes of quietness, and it does no good to your mind. you’re focusing your gaze on the inanimate objects in your apartment, anything to dismiss the reality of the situation. your leg feels cold as his hand pulls away suddenly.

he rolls his tongue against his cheek. another tic of his— he’s formulating his word choice, carefully. you’d seen a ton of this before, though it usually followed a deep sigh and a you’re good baby, trust me. the more you’d see it, the more anxious you became. and christ, if that anxiety wasn’t forming right back.

it takes a while for him to speak, and every passing breath had your chest tightening. he runs his hand across his face, tiredly. when he pulls it away, there’s a melancholic smile on his face, “i think there’s a lot that needs to be addressed. jesus, i always knew you sucked at communicating but this is something else.”

you glare at him. he doesn’t mind it, continuing, “no, you weren’t the perfect girlfriend. but you were my girlfriend, and that’s all that mattered to me. you wanna talk about spiralling? nothing i’m not familiar with— you’re the only reason i didn’t let myself fall into that rabbit hole. you kept me going after graduation. i worked as hard as i did to make sure you wouldn’t have to lift a finger around me. that was the end goal— you were end goal.”

gagged is what you felt. nothing else pure shock. he doesn’t stop there. he isn’t merciful anymore.

“i know i didn’t go about it the right way,” a regretful puff of air is released, “i canceled on you often. our phone calls were shorter, our texts were vaguer and at some point i’d forgotten what you tasted like. but i never loved you any less. not once, even after we argued. not to say i’ve converted into those spiritual people, but you’re the closest thing to a soulmate i’ve experienced.”

shit, you weren’t tripping. he felt it too. fuck. the weight of his words made it impossible to steer him away. you want to intercept, to call him a liar and turn a blind ear at his confession, to shield yourself but how could you when every word he spoke broke the bricks you’d built down?

“i’m not an asshole— i could feel you slipping away. i did try my damned hardest to reel you back in, as you’d done with me. clearly that hadn’t worked how i was hoping it would,” a bitter laugh, or maybe a resentful one. towards you or himself? you wouldn’t know, “it’s because i loved you so much, i let you go. i knew i was losing you, and when you finally came to me, the right thing to do was agree. why keep you from reaching your fullest potential? you weren’t happy with me, trying to fight the inevitable was cruel.”

the inevitable. letting you go was the right choice to make because fighting the inevitable was cruel. he loved you so much he had to let you go because you deserved more than what he had to offer. you call bullshit— in what right did he have to make that choice for you? what right did you have to make that choice for him?

it’s too much at once. your eyes burn with a remorseful feeling, your heart aches in agony and your mind is clouded with thoughts. there your ex boyfriend sat, wide eyes still as blue as when he’d once been yours, presenting you his heart raw in cupped hands— and you still couldn’t find it in you to believe him fully. everything yet nothing made sense. vulnerability was a scary thing, and you weren’t ready to face it.

so, you kiss him.

his breath is taken out of his chest as you lean forward, sealing his mouth shut. you can’t take any more of his merciless words, and the only way to get your mind off it is by getting on it. he feels stiff against you, pupils dilating as you mould lips with his own. your hand travels to the back of his neck, sitting on your knees as you hold him still.

and with a faint lip smack, he pulls away ever so slightly, hands hovering awkwardly over your waist, his breath warm and fanning your cupid’s bow, “wait—”

“don’t wanna talk,” you interrupt, placing another chaste kiss on his lips. he tastes as good as the day you left him. and with another soft smack, your voice lowers, reduced to a whisper, “you gonna fuck me or not?”

he blinks and you stare back at him, full of conviction. a simple yes or no question— and he could gladly see himself out if his answer didn’t satisfy you. his hands finally rest on your waist, and you take it as an invitation to straddle over his hips. he eases your movements by aiding, lifting you just barely to sit on him. his hands fit just as they did all those times ago. a sour, bittersweet feeling— fingertips caressing the nakedness of your torso beneath your camisole.

your back arches as he finds your sensitive spots with quickness. he’d always been great at that, leaving trails of goosebumps past his teasing touches.

“you’re doing it again,” he mumbles against your lips, ever the hypocrite, fingers gripping at your waist like a vice. he rolls your hips over his own, reeling in the softness of your palms cupping at his face. you ignore him when he continues, still nibbling on his bottom lip the way he loves, “you can’t— mmh, avoid this forever.”

maybe not, but you sure as hell could right now. the tip of your noses bump into one another as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss. you want to rid your mind of these plaguing thoughts, ones that made you doubt everything you thought you knew. losing control was out of the question, so naturally you needed it back into your grasp.

sex was an easy way to do that.

“yes or no, gojo.” you give him one last chance, grinding your hips down on his awakening dick. you feel his bulge through his pair of sweats, the print so evident you wondered why he was trying to fight it. the sight alone had your panties dampening in your arousal, uncomfortably sticky against your loungewear.

he hums in between kisses, a false pretend of debating his options. his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your shorts and past your panties, fondling at the flesh that sat beneath. he could fake it all he wants, but fuck chivalry— he was turning to mush the more you sucked at his tongue, licking at the crevice of the roof of his mouth.

it’s when you sink your teeth into the flesh of pink lips, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to draw a moan from him, he comes to a conclusion. he nods his head, snaking his arms to wrap at your waist tighter as finally kisses you back.

“it’s always a yes.” for you. he doesn’t say it, doesn’t need to, but you hear it and dismiss it. no more lovey doveyness and time to get to the nitty gritty of shit— getting your back blown out. the very thought alone is enough to put a smile on your lips.

bingo.

your bedroom door hardly shuts before he pins you against it. he’s annoyingly big— tall in height and wide in weight. he towers over you comically, hands roaming at every inch of your body as he drinks you up. his lips seek yours desperately, sliding over your glossy ones with practice that suggests hints of comfort.

your arms loop at his neck, and his at your waist. his mouth hardly lets up of yours, mumbling a little jump, as you comply with ease. thighs trapping him in your hold, you then find yourself face to face with him as he lifts you, large palms cupping at your ass. you fit just as perfectly in his hands as you did years ago, flesh so fat he gropes it tenderly.

the walk from the door to your bed passes in the blink of an eye, a timeframe you find pointless to recall as you indulge in the taste of him through his tongue. his presence is so overwhelmingly powerful— every touch and caress at your body reducing your limbs to mush. you cling to him, either out of safety reasons or desire, tilting your head from side to side to deepen the lip-to-lip action.

when he gets to the edge of your bed, he lowers you until your toes reach the floor. due to the difference in height, your lips part, a thin string of saliva connecting from both your mouths as proof of your unison. the blue shade of his orbs darken with desire, eyelids lowering as he drinks up the sight of you— lips plump and swollen, slick in saliva, chest heaving from lack of oxygen.

he raises a hand from your waist to cup at your face, and you detest the way your lean into his touch. your cheek fits in his large palm, and he swipes a thumb at your bottom lip, collecting your shared spit onto the pad of his digit. as he smears the fluid further across your mouth, he prods his thumb a little further— testing out the waters, wanting to see if you’d cave into old habits.

naturally, you allow it, his thumb swallowed by your puckered lips. you roll your tongue over his finger and your eyes never leave his— hoping to convey the rush of emotions you feel through your sultry gaze. your core throbs in want, your stomach erupting in butterflies and your heart pounding unnecessarily. unspoken words you’re positive he understood, if the way he groans when your teeth sink lightly into his digit said anything.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, popping his finger back out. it’s coated in saliva, and like the freak he is, pops it into his own mouth. once he’s had his fill, he removes his hand from his mouth, and lowers it to your fleshy waist, slipping past the waistband of your panties, “take these off— ‘m hungry, need a taste of that pussy.”

your cheeks nearly split from your excitement, and you comply to his order, gripping at the hem of your shorts to pull them down to your ankle. he assists you despite the previous demand, his own hands atop of yours, a warmth and sense of security so familiar. when your shorts reach past your mid thigh, you allow him to meet you halfway.

he pulls your shorts down to your ankles, lowering himself to a knee. his movements are agonizingly slow, basking in the sight of your thighs in contrast of the shade of your loungewear. he steadies a hand onto your calf, patting it lightly, and you lift your leg just barely, permitting him to slide the shorts off your ankle and tossing it aside.

when the item is discarded, he redirects his focus back to you. he pampers your skin in kisses— delicate but hungry, trails of moisture crawling back up at your inner thighs and shooting right to your core. he looked unexplainably sexy on his knees, littering your body in hushed praises, the tip of his nose nudging at your soft skin. you bit your lip in attempts to cease it from wobbling at the intimacy he was providing.

“god, you smell so good,” he speaks into you, hands snaking to the back of your thighs, pressing you forward into him. your panty covered cunt presents itself right before him, and he plants his nose right into your intimates, your body shuddering as his nose bumps into your clit deliciously. a shaky breath escapes you, and his hands travel upwards to play with your ass. “turn around, wanna eat it from the back.”

the words are taken from you when his hand slaps your ass encouragingly, releasing a mini squeal, “you’re still too freaked out.”

“mhm, something like that,” you don’t see it, as you’re occupied on spinning on your feet to plant your hands on your matters for stability, but you’re positive he’s smirking. your arch your back for him, wanting to properly present the meal he plans on devouring. your cunt oozes slick against your thong just thinking about how he’s going to do you in, “there’s that arch,” a hand slides in the curve of your lower back, before snapping the band of your thong. it recoils against your cheek and you jerk forward at the sting.

“oh? did that hurt?” he taunts, and as you’re about to protest, he does it yet again. the snap is intense but never painful, but the nerve he had to play around like your pussy wasn’t a few centimetres away from his face. you don’t acknowledge how your panties cling even tighter to your folds.

“fuck off,” you curse through gritted teeth, but your hips wiggle backwards in attempt to get him to hurry it up. as if now was any time to tease— you couldn’t stand it when he did it all those years ago, and your feelings haven’t changed since, “get on with it. . . the fuck?”

you hear him sigh, almost disappointedly, and it only aggravates you further. your brows furrow in annoyance and you think you feel a vein tick at your temple.

“still so disrespectful,” gojo tuts, rubbing at your booty tenderly. so he wasn’t exactly wrong, but how was he expecting you to react when he’d just said he was going to eat you out, and proceeds to do anything but that? of course there’s going to be a little pout on your lips, “we gotta work on that attitude of yours.”

your face twists into a look of further aggravation, and you tilt your head back, readying whatever other bratty objections you had— though you’re ultimately interrupted by a sharp sting that spreads across your ass.

the strike of his palm against your cheek sprawls into an intense heat, the pain oddly pleasurable, and the moan that rips out of your chest is impossible to suppress. your eyes nearly jump out of their sockets at the audacity, and right as you’re about to complain, he does it again. and again.

“o-okay, shit!” you attempt to voice out, but he’s relentless, delivering blow after blow onto the same ground. there’s a curve in his palm, and it amplified the sound across the room. despite your protests, you can’t deny every jolt of pain rushes to your clit. you’re positive he knows you’re enjoying this, “gojo— fuck, okayyy!”

to your pleasure, he eases the slaps, opting to smoothen his hand flat across the reddened flesh. he hums pensively, the heat of your skin radiating against his palm in a way that forces a smile on his lips, “ ‘okay?’ what do you mean by that, baby?”

you clench your teeth at his faux ignorance. you know exactly what he wants from you, and you’re not sure if you’re able to give it to him as you are. an apology— he wants you to apologize, that bastard. your left cheek stings like a bitch, even with his now gentle touches, and your core is begging you to cooperate with him, in order for that attention it was neglected of. he is such a dickhead— putting you in a predicament like this one.

you swallow the last bit of dignity you hold, a constant reminder in the back of your mind that this was for the greater good— for the sake of your pussy. with a pained sigh, you tilt your head backwards to meet his playful gaze that stares back at you, right below the plump of your ass, and you muster the cutest look you can give.

doe eyes paired with a little pout, “‘m sorry. . . for the attitude,” you’re not sorry at all, but you desperately want your cunt in his mouth, so you do what you have to do, “can you eat it now? please?”

he flashes you a million dollar smile, all thirty twos on full display, and it takes every ounce of willpower in you not to roll your eyes right then and there. he was so full of shit, his eyes might as well brown. but still, you knew he got off on this kind of thing, and when he presses a quick kiss at the print of your lips, he replies, “of course, sweet girl— only because you asked so nicely.”

there’s no further need to speak, as you feel your thong being pushed to the side, followed by a cold breeze hitting your bare cunt, meshed with warm breathe as he feasts .

gojo eats you out like he has something to prove, and you know what— maybe he does. to prevent you from straying from him, he grounds you with two firm hands gripping at your ass. he spreads the flesh apart, his tongue lapping at your slick greedily. you can’t tell who’s moans are louder— yours or his, the man so engaged in sucking at your clit, nibbling on the bundle of nerves with practiced ease. you hold onto the sheets on your bed with dear life, thighs trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up.

“fuck, don’t stop,” you whine, pushing your hips further back, your mind overcame with utter greediness for more of that insatiable pleasure. you might as well have swallowed him whole into you, just as he’s swallowing you whole into him, his tongue diving deep past your hole and into your folds. he flicks his tongue expertly, licking at every crevice and nook of your cave, his jaw working overtime as his bottom lip never lets up at your clit.

your entire pussy is consumed by him, no area going neglected— drool slips past his mouth and spills onto your floor. a familiar heat licks at the pit of your stomach, a telltale that your dam is bound to burst anytime soon. he remedies your ache with another painful spank at your ass, groaning into your pussy when you clamp down on his tongue.

he was so fucking nasty— fucking into you with his tongue like he needed this more than you did. he makes out with your cunt, like he was a starving man on death row. at a particular cruel angle of his tongue fucking, your body would react with an all consuming tremble, fingers clawing at your duvets, your lungs releasing pathetic mewls. and the further you pushed back into his merciless mouth, the closer his nose nudged at your puckered forbidden hole.

he pulls away with a gasp, subbing his mouth out for his fingers, the pads of three fingers rubbing messily at your sloppy lips. the sound it creates is downright filthy, so painfully loud that it damn near drowns out your own moans.

“pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he spits a wad of saliva at your already soaked cunt, further amplifying the squelching sounds. he drags his fingers down to your clit, pinching at the bud with enough pressure to have your knees buckling, before sliding back upwards to your clenching hole. he slides into your entrance, index and middle fingers twisting in with ease, “bet she missed me, hm?”

“y-yes!” you nod mindlessly, your high creeping up on you as he works himself into you. taking six inches of fingers twice was a task in itself— the average length of a man’s dick serving purpose as fingering was just downright disrespectful. his knuckles poke at your silky walls, stretching you out to the best of his abilities, “shit— oh fuck, ‘m gonna cum!”

to your statement, he latches his lips back to your neglected clit, sucking on the bud as if he were intentionally trying to milk you dry. he hums at your taste, the vibrations shooting right up your alley and into the knot tightening in your guts— and when he curls his fingers upwards, at that spot that has stars dancing beneath your eyelids, the dam breaks. that knot stood no chance.

“oh goddd,” you cry out, spraying your release all over. it dribbles out your pussy and past the lower half of his face, to which his jaw widens as his mouth gapes— greedily aiming to slurp at your juices while simultaneously flicking your bean. the stimulation has your brain going dumb, as you fall flat onto your bed, drool collecting at the corner of your mouth and staining your sheets damp.

he lets you ride out the euphoric bliss, the movements of his fingers and the lapping of his tongue slowing down the more your body reacted to the overstimulation. when he deems you well spent, he lets up, slipping his fingers out and popping them back in his mouth, swirling your taste across his pallets, “as sweet as ever,” rising back to his full height.

you haven’t came that hard in a while, limbs reduced to nothing as you merge into one with your bed. your legs are still trembling, and your chest heaves as you exhale deep breaths. letting your eyelids close shut, you take the time to regroup yourself from that mind shattering orgasm. who the fuck had he been fucking that forced him to keep this skill? granted, you had no right to complain but holy shit, he was no fucking noob.

you feel the weight of his body press on top of you, a well-built chest meeting your moist back. it doesn’t take much to realize he’s hovering over you. his lips litter kisses at the column of your neck, moving up to the shell of your ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps after each embrace, “you tappin’ out already?” gojo snickers at your shell of a body, and you kiss your teeth at his typical mockery, “what happened to my champ while i was gone?”

“fuck off,” you pout, a little embarrassed by the fact that you really were retired from the game. sure, you were getting dicked down real good by your previous partner (question mark), but it never had you as exhausted as you currently were. there was absolutely nothing gojo satoru couldn’t do, and that ticked you off to no end, “nobody said shit about tappin’ out.”

“hm. . .” he hums, nuzzling his nose into your jugular, his hips grinding into the cleft of your ass. it’s impossible to ignore the bulge poking into you, and you doubt he was trying to hide it regardless, his hips rolling against the plushness of your behind, “guess sukuna didn’t do as good of job as he should’ve.”

that has your eyelids opening right back up. talk about an awkward situation— bringing up you and your ex’s (question mark) sex life while having sex with your other ex was a double edged predicament in itself. had you agreed, which lowkey wasn’t entirely wrong, you’d be stroking the fuck out of gojo’s ego and be disrespecting sukuna. but had you disagreed, you could end up on gojo’s wrong side and fumble an entire night worth of dicking.

so, once more, you take the easy way out, at the expense of inflating the white haired man’s ego, much to your dismay, “think you can do better?”

he stays silent for a while. in what you assume is him coming up with an answer to your question, his kisses travel to the dead centre of your shoulder blades, wet and open mouthed, as they crawl lower down your spine. with every kiss, your body caves into a state of relaxation, as if he was undoing every stress clouding at your hazed mind with his mouth alone.

he lands at the middle of your back, before he pulls away abruptly. and just as soon as he started, he was finished— removing himself off your body entirely. panic settles quickly in your stomach, as you turn your head around to see what he was up to. had you unintentionally hurt his feelings? damn, and here you were enjoying the body worship.

“what are you—” your words are cut off as his hands cup at your waist. he slides you back towards the edge of the bed, your feet planted on the floor once more. you feel some residue of your previous orgasm beneath your heels, eugh. you don’t have much time to spend thinking about how gross it feels when a hand holds your shoulders, and lifts you right back up.

your brows jump to your hairline in surprise at the sudden manhandling, though you can’t deny you found just a bit sexy. with his chest pressed into your back once more, you can feel his heartbeat thudding at the blade of your left shoulder, the organ withholding a steady rhythm— the tempo of a lullaby you’d once been accustomed to. and then big arms wrap around your frame, and holds you.

you hate the way your body folds so easily to his touch. it’s been an entire year, and despite your mind shouting at you for the intimacy you’re allowing to gallop right back into your life, your heart craves it. the sense of security his embrace offers you alone makes the least of sense, but you blindly lean into him, allowing yourself to be deluded for the time being. he won’t be yours as soon as this is over, so you might as well take the most advantage of the situation.

it takes a minute for either of you to speak. here you stood— half naked and legs sore, but still happily in his arms. his cologne is still as rich and dominating as it’d been all those times ago. he breaks the silence first, his chin resting above your shoulder, as he mumbles, “you really hurt my feelings, you know.”

to some degree, you know you did. about what exactly? you weren’t sure, but still, you offer him what you believe he wants, the realization leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, “i’m sorry.”

“‘s all good,” he kisses your cheek so tenderly that your neck cranes to the side to meet his gaze. gojo had always been so readable when it came to emotions, as he always wore his heart on his sleeve, but even with all the knowledge you knew about, you weren’t prepared for the look in his eyes. raw, unfiltered emotions. you only notice the close proximity between you both when your noses bump into one another. he shoots you a warm smile, “could never be upset with you. you hold that power over me.”

it’s you who kisses him first, and he returns the favour with more intensity. it’s an awkward positioning for your neck, but you don’t let up regardless of the ache in your joints. his mouth stays on yours as if you were his lifeline, tongues sloshing one over the other, brushing your lips together so gingerly.

in the midst of his tongue down your throat, he slips a hand in between your thighs, cupping at your abandoned pussy. the casual brush of his fingers at your core sent a breathy whine from your throat right into his mouth, and it only motivated him to work harder, rubbing slow patterns into your throbbing clit. your hips chase the feeling, riding the wave of his fingers.

he pulls away from your mouth, just barely, mumbling against your kiss bitten lips, “one of these days you’re gonna let me finish speaking,” followed by a knowing smile. sure, it could be seen as a flaw, but it was the only way you could protect yourself while keeping him within arm’s reach. never ready to have him but never prepared to let him go, “we can do that later— gotta blow your back out first.”

you couldn’t agree more.

it all happens so quickly— he retrieves his hand from between your thighs, having collected your juices at his fingertips, before lubricating his dick. he pumps at the length leisurely, his bottom lip tugged by his top row of teeth, and the groans he lets out are enough to have you squeezing your thighs eagerly, your cunt aching and ready to go. in the midst of your eagerness, you slip your hand behind you and catch his twitching cock, working your wrist right above his own, jerking him off.

a deep groan grumbles from his chest, and he instantly stops your hand from moving any further. you frown at his ceasing, but when you tilt your head to voice out your confusion, he offers a sheepish smile, “don’t wanna cum too soon,” ever the minute man, he was.

though, you soon find yourself regretting your own thoughts the very instant you feel the tip of his dick pushing past your entrance.

there’s a blended harmony of both your moans that bounces off the walls. his fingers dig deep into the flesh of your hips, holding onto you so tightly you’re positive you’ll bruise, and you clamp down on his intruding dick so tightly you’re positive you never want to let him go. the initial stretch is a feeling you’ll never get used to, but the sensation is all but unwanted.

“fuckkk, y/n,” he moans right into your ear, his voice so full of want, you can’t help but understand exactly where he’s coming from. he pulls his hips back, almost entirely, though his tip stays inside. it takes him a second to regroup, mumbling incoherent words under his breath, before he plunges back into your cunt.

and from that point on, it’s wraps. he fucks into you like a madman— as if he’d been punishing you for your crimes. punishing you for sleeping with another man. punishing you for leaving him a year and a half ago. punishing you for punishing him. his pace is ruthless— hips meeting your ass as fast as he’d pull out, pounding into your little hole to mould it into the shape of him.

he’s thick, this time on perverted shit.

you’re so painfully full of him, and despite your arms stretched outwards to grip at the sheets that had suffered more than enough of your abuse on them, your walls never let go of him. you don’t want him to pull out ever, utterly obsessed with the rough pace he set from the jump. it feels impossible keeping the curve of your back when the tip of his length repetitively attacks at your golden spots.

“ohmygoddd,” you words come out slurry, head lolling forward uselessly. if he kept fucking you like this, you weren’t going to let him leave again. stuck in an endless loop of bliss, with every thrust into your folds, his balls would slap at your clit and drive you insane, “y’re d-doing me s’gooddd,”

“yeah?” he eggs on, his voice as breathless as you’d been, though his pacing would never suggest so. there’s a hypnotic recoil of your ass bouncing back onto his pelvis that indulges him into disrupting it, delivering a new spank at your cheeks. you cry out at the feeling, and he strikes again, hips never letting up, “tell me more baby.”

you rise at your tip toes when you feel yourself sinking, legs giving out yet again. you hold yourself up at your elbows, a newfound confidence pushing your hips back to match his pace. when he heaves out a loud moan, you’re encouraged to keep going. the melody of your skins slapping against each other echoes into the stillness of the night, arching your back the further he plunges into your guts. you’re so turned on, the evidence creaming around the perimeter of his cock, easing the slides of his dick inside of you.

“toruuu,” you whine, too fucked out to notice your first mistake— calling him by his favorite nickname. at that given moment, you couldn’t care any less, the intense heat in your guts growing once more. the curve of his dick reaches spots you don’t think anybody could reach, almost as if he was made entirely for you, “you’re so big— can feel you, nghhh, everywhere!”

“that’s cause i am everywhere,” you think you can hear him smirking behind you. though, he has every right to feel entitled, with how much of a mess he’s reduced you to. he rolls his hips deep, a firm bulge forming into your tummy. as if he’s got a sixth sense or eye, he leans forward to rest his chest against your back— your eyes rolling back from the new angle. he slides a hand beneath your stomach and presses at the bulge hard. you can’t help the squeal you let out, “that’s me right there.”

you nod your head feverishly, the applied pressure on your stomach pushing his cock right at your cervix. oh god, he was going to kill you. what a wonderful way to go— all judgements clouded in favour of an eight inched dick penetrating your walls, “‘s all yours— mmh, always been.”

and that’d been your final mistake.

because the chuckle he lets out right into your ear is dark. the sounds shoot right up to your spine, shivers crawling up your back deliciously. he might as well be back stabbing you with how his cock plunged so sloppily out of your gaping cunt, “you always knew how to, fuck, pillowtalk,” he pants into your neck, his additional weight onto your shaking frame nothing short on welcoming. the hand pressing into your stomach lowers to your clit, and pinches meanly at the bud, “you know i’d, mmh, give you the world if you asked— my smart girl, shit.”

he’s so cruel, talking to you so lovingly despite it all. you tighten your eyes, in poor attempts to ignore the tenderness of the words fleeting his lips and focus instead on the stretch of your cunt down his dick. you feel yourself creaming on him, further proof of both your unison through his diabolical thrusts. he pinned you into place like this— unable to do anything but take what he gave you gratefully.

at a particular stroke at your abused golden spot, your body releases another tremor of shudders. it overtakes you from head to toe, a moan so ripe escaping your lips as you claw at ruined sheets. gojo works into aiming at that spot over and over again, each thrust more intense than the previous one. the change of his pace, slowing for a minute, draws you near the end of the line quicker than you’d anticipated.

“oh?” he grunts playfully, swaying his hips back and forth into your poor pussy. mercy is nowhere to be found, however, “you like it when i fuck you like this?” another agonizingly beautiful thrust at the same place, you can’t help but reward him with a cry. he’s fucking you into the damn mattress, and he has the balls to ask this question knowing the answer. still, you nod your head mutely, tears collecting at your lash line, and he nips at the skin on your jaw, “yeahhh you do.”

god, you do.

and suddenly, you can’t bring yourself to remember why you’d ever let go of dick this good. the kind that would have you taking the rubber off and considering finishing inside. the kind that had you babbling apologies for having done absolutely nothing wrong. the kind that made you begin to believe his careless whispers, empty promises to work things out.

in the midst of your delusions, he pulls you both back up from the bed, standing once again. at this new position, he reaches impossibly further into you, the difference in your heights making up for the inches he’s dug into you. his fingers dig in the column of your throat, the weight of his hand wrapped tightly at your neck. he’s everywhere at once, but simultaneously no where to be found. while you can feel his tip prodding at your most sensitive spot, you don’t feel the overwhelming force of love he once bore with open arms for you.

or was it you were feigning you don’t? because as he works himself back into you, at a pace so tender yet cruel, the line of boundaries you’d once set has been entirely deterred. a force so overwhelming, just like his entire being, bringing you right back to him as if you’d never left— nevermind the fact your thighs could barely support themselves, quaking pathetically. it was getting too much— everything was a lot.

“nahhh. . . don’t start running now.” you didn’t realize you were. the sheets are crumpled in your tight hold, while your other hand lightly pushes at his lower abdomen. you were a trooper, but there was only so much pleasurable torture you could handle. naturally, he pins your wrist at your spine to maintain his ruthless pace, and with another gentle yet cruelly empty promise, he coos, “not when i’ve just gotten you back.”

how the fuck did you get yourself in this mess?

oh right. . . tinder. you had a bone to pick with the ceo of that app right after you come back to your senses.

“i— i can’t,” you fumble at your words, the lack of oxygen catching up to you. you’re bound to his mercy— hands tied, breath nearly restricted, pussy obliterated, and yet, there’s nowhere else you’d want to be. the pressure on your throat lolls your head backwards, chin facing the ceiling as your eyes fall onto snowy lashes, “gonna cum again— oh fuckfuckfuck,”

and despite his brutality, he shoots you a sweet smile, the contrast in his words versus his actions grand, “right behind you, baby.”

you cum, and hard . much harder than you had before. you gush your fluids down his piercing cock, your folds squeezing him tight as you release. you think your mind blanks for a minute, an orgasm so powerful, you fear your eyes would stay stuck at the back of your skull. you shiver in his embrace, the insatiable desire racking your body from top to bottom.

when he pulls out, you fall flat yet again onto your stomach, face first. you assume you look like a puddle of nothingness, your limbs spent from the overexhaustion. but still, you find yourself in a similar position to prior, as gojo leans over your body, a hand holding him up as the other works on his jerking him cum out. smart move, not finishing inside, though a weird feeling of disappointment sits in your stomach, swapping the fiery heat from your orgasm.

he sinks his teeth into your shoulders as you wince, emptying himself right onto your lower back. it runs hot and smooth into the dimples of your back, that you can’t help but stretch your limp arm towards the mess to collect the residue on your fingers. you pop them into your mouth, his taste still so familiar as he plops right at your side, face up.

there’s a thick silence that fills the sex scented room. you wonder what is going through his brain now that the lust demon that was half his ego had been taken care of. was he on the same page as you were? had he realized just how messy this could turn out? he’s too quiet for a man of his nature— and that terrified you shitless. no matter the outcome, you’re ready to kick him out. post nut clarity was a scary thing— it revealed the violent truth of how tempting the flesh could be, even with consequences on the line.

you want to beat him to it. the last thing you need on your consciousness is your ex boyfriend who’d you invited into your home a year after you broke up with him, leaving you. he seemed petty enough to do the eye for an eye shtick— it wasn’t too out of character for him.

with a heavy heart and sigh, you turn your head to the side where he lays comfortably. the words want to die in your throat, but your urge them out, the sooner the better, “you should—”

“no.” he interrupts, followed by a yawn.

you frown at that, brows scrunching as you insist that yet again, “you need to—”

“nah.” gojo cuts you off yet again, rolling onto his side. his dick falls limp onto your bed, and you don’t think about the mess it’s making. to be fair, you’d done far worse. and it was proven difficult to care about that mess when he brought a finger to play with your loose hairs, cerulean eyes zeroing in on them, “i’m tired. let’s get you cleaned up and go to bed.”

“you’re not listening to me.” you click your tongue, a little desperate to have him hear you. you’re scared to keep him around longer, because you know you’ll grow attached again and that already ended terribly once, and took you forever and a half to get over. he has to leave and right now, “you have to go.”

gojo hums at that. he stops the twirling of your hair, rather reluctantly, and finally meets your sharp gaze. he still looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, “why?”

you narrow your eyes, “you know why,” you shouldn’t have to explain why two exes cozying up after indulging into each other was a bad idea. common sense, you figured, but was it common sense to have him over in the first place? a flurry of various emotions coursing over you laced with exhaustion had you overthinking like a motherfucker, “this was a bad idea.”

he trails his finger along the slope of your clenched jaw, and you don’t think about the fact it immediately relaxed at his touch. the longer he traced your skin, the longer he kept looking at you like that, you were wavering in your own logic. you’d both gotten what you wanted in the first place, so why was it he was still here? the rational decision would be to pretend this never happened and part ways again, but why was the thought of him locking the door behind him once again at your expense making you feel sick to your stomach?

when his finger lands at your pouty lips, he taps his index finger twice against the flesh. naturally, your pout deepens. his eyes flick from your mouth to your shying gaze, and his index swaps for his thumb. he runs the pad of his finger across the reddened surface, and his voice falls a few octaves lower, hushed for nobody else but you to hear, “you don’t want me to leave.”

you don’t.

he takes your silence as acceptance, and plants a soft kiss to your lips. it’s enough to rid your mind of its plaguing doubts in the meanwhile. and when his hand slides to cup at the back of your neck, ultimately deepening it, you can’t find it in you to care about the consequences for the time being. not when he was swallowing you whole like he was the one terrified to feel you slip from his fingers. you melt into him far too easily.

well. . . that was something you’d deal with in the morning.

tinder: 1, you: 0.

now can y’all stop calling me a deadbeat 🙎‍♂️

Choso vs internet