Katsuki Being A Girl Dad Is Canon To Me. There Is No Other Truth Except For This. He Loves That Little

kirishima x bakugou x f!reader

summary - you're a shy transfer student who's paired with kirishima for a project, by chance, you meet his boyfriend. porn with not a lot of plot.

a/n - smut, threesome, bakugou and kirishima are both bi and so is reader, college au, quirkless au, praise, degradation, shy reader, sorry for slandering shinsou, unprotected sex, face fucking, impact play, cumplay ig im, i forgot that this was mostly filth when i went to re edit it. repost from my old blog, katsupeach. kirishima and bakugou's heights are described but they're bigger than you, daddy kink, some mild hurt comfort, they like you more than a one night stand isn't that nice.

MINORS DNI - You must have an age visible on your page somewhere to interact with this post.

Being paired with the sunny extroverted football player for your essay project wasn’t your worst nightmare, but only because your subconscious was rarely so creatively cruel. You traced the assignment with your finger, checking again to make sure that it was right. F/N L/N, Kirishima Eijirou. Fuck. You look up, and to your embarrassment, he’s looking over at you, and you make eye contact. He shoots you a bright smile that you attempt to return. Professor Aizawa continues talking about the project, but you’re not listening, you’re too busy wiping your clammy hands on your jeans. You dart out of the classroom, through the hallways, and onto the quad but of course, he catches you. 

“Hey, hey y/n!” Shit. You turn around and there he is, towering over you. 

“Hi.” You say. 

“Do you wanna exchange numbers? Talk about the project?” He grins at you. “You’re a transfer, right? 

“Yeah,” you say quickly. “Don’t worry about the project, I’ll just do it. I don’t mind.” He blinks at you. 

“No, uh, no way,” He sheepishly touches the back of his neck. “I can’t letcha do that, I promise I won’t hold you back.” You swallow nervously. 

“It’s really fine.” You respond, barely audible. He shakes his head. 

“Come on, I won’t be that bad.” He reaches out to touch your upper arm and you flinch from him. “Sorry, I just,” he withdraws his hand, “Let’s get coffee if you don’t have class? On me.” You tuck your hair behind your ears. 

“Oh, um sure.” He leads you to the student union, chattering about the reading, making it so you barely have to fill in the blanks of the conversation. He leans down to you when you get to the barista, 

“Whaddya want, I’ll order for you.” 

“Just a latte.” You say. He moves around you to order, careful not to touch you. 

“She’ll have a latte, and I’ll have a Caramel Frappucino.” He says, smiling gently at you. “Let’s grab a booth, it’ll be quieter.” You let him lead you across the busy student union, holding both of your hot coffees. He’s right, it’s a little quieter in the booth. “Do you have any ideas?” 

“Yeah,” You tuck your hair behind your ears. “I was thinking, maybe um something about, the pre-raphaelites, and how their ultra-realism was a revolution that actually went so hard that it transcended realism to become nonrepresentational.” He blinks at you. 

“Yeah, uh, okay, let’s do that.” You sigh. 

“Just let me do it.” 

“No, no,” he says quickly, “I’m a little behind in the reading, that’s all, I’ll catch up and then I’ll understand. Let’s look now, at one of the paintings, and you can explain it to me.” You take a sip of your coffee and flip to a page in your three hundred dollar textbook, complete with glossy colored pictures. 

“This is Ophelia, by John Edwin Millais.” He looks at the pale woman lying in the reeds. 

“Oh shit, is she dead?” You swallow. 

“Yeah, of course, she is, she’s Ophelia.” He looks sheepish. “From Hamlet. She pretty famously dies.” He looks even more sheepish. 

“Uh, okay.” He puts his palms up. “Tell you what, I will catch up on the reading. I will. And then we can divide up work, and get started. I will not be the mean jock that makes you do this yourself. I refuse.” 

“Frankly that’s more honor than I expected from you.” He laughs, touching the back of his neck. 

“Jeez. Sorry that my fellow athletes did ya so dirty. Scouts honor, I won’t leave you high and dry.” He’s oozing sincerity. You don’t trust it. 

“Okay.” He raises his eyebrows and then straightens. 

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me now. I’m gonna prove it.” He looks down at the textbook. “Okay, she’s dead, keep explaining.” 

“So she’s dead, but look at all the flowers around her. Her death is a tragedy, and it’s considered one of the most eloquent descriptions of death in literature.” 

“Ooh,” Kirishima takes his phone out. “Let me google it. What’s it from again?” You smile nervously. 

“It’s Lady Gertrude’s speech, from Hamlet.” He squints at his screen. 

“Wait, what language is this in?” You laugh a little despite yourself. 

“English,” you say, “give it here, I’ll demonstrate.” He hands you his phone, it’s cool and heavy in your hands. “No case?” 

“I don’t drop things.” He says, a hint of pride in his voice. You laugh, genuinely. 

“There, on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds, Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,” your voice is low, Kirishima leans in across the table to hear what you’re saying. “When down her weedy trophies and herself, Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,” He feels a blush creep onto his cheeks, there’s something almost sensual about the music of your words. “Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes, As one incapable of her own distress,” Kirishima’s breath hitches in his throat. 

“Oh,” he interrupts you, “Oh I get it.” You nod. “Wait but please don’t stop.” He begs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Go on.” You give him a small smile. 

“Or like a creature native and endued unto that element. But long it could not be

till that her garments, heavy with their drink, pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay, to muddy death.” He sighs with happiness. 

“Wow.” He breathes. “Reading Shakespeare doesn’t feel like that.” 

“That’s because he wrote plays,” you explain, “And plays, like poetry, were always meant to be experienced as spoken word entertainment rather than read.” He nods vigorously. 

“That makes so much sense!” He grins, still leaning rather close to you across the table. 

“Oi, shitty hair!” Someone snarls and you jump, gasping in surprise. “And what the fuck is wrong with you?” Bakugou Katsuki, loud, brash, and Quarterback of the football team leans over your table. You shrink from him. 

“Bakugou!” Kirishima chastizes. “You can’t snap at people like that. You scared the shit out of her, I just got her to start talking to me.” He shakes his head. “Y/n, I’m sorry, this is my boyfriend.” You blink in surprise. “Yeah, we’re both bi.” He confirms, fielding your expression with expert precision. Bakugou elbows his way next to Kirishima in the booth, dropping his textbooks. “Y/n was just reading me some Shakespeare for context on this.” He points to the Millais, your textbook still lying open. 

“That Ophelia?” He asks you and you nod. “So you were reading him Lady Gertrude’s speech.” You blink at him. “Yeah, we’re not all fuckin’ idiots.” He says, hitting Kirishima lightly on the back of the head. “But go ahead, I want to hear it.” 

“Oh um,” your face burns. “I was done. I mean it’s a short passage.” 

“Something else then,” he grins, “I like to watch him struggle.” Kirishima swats at his boyfriend, who dodges and smiles. You hand him his phone back.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say and he narrows his eyes, and scrolls through his phone. 

“Shitty hair we’ll give you somethin’ easy, just tell us what this means.” 

“Why can’t you read it?” You say a little annoyed and he grins. 

“You’ll see.” He selects something on his phone and then hands it to you. 

“Oh.” You say, a scowl forming on your lips, seeing Katherine’s monologue. “You want me to read the Shakespearean equivalent of yes sir, I would be happy to make you that sandwich?” 

“What?” Kirishima blinks. Bakugou looks like he’s about to speak but you cut him off. 

“Kirishima look at me.” He does. “This was the first thing we were supposed to read in this course. Have you done any of the reading for this class?” Kirishima goes bright red, shrinking nervously from Bakugou. 

“Shitty hair?” Bakugou growls. “Skippin’ out on the reading, huh?” You raise your eyebrows and start to gather your things. Kirishima buries his face in his hands. 

“Wait,” you stop and look at him, you’d already stood to make your escape. “Please help me study, please help me catch up.” He eyes Bakugou. “He’s the meanest tutor, and I feel like you wouldn’t be.” You sigh. 

“Kirishima, we’re not even friends.” You reach for your coffee but he looks so hurt that you pause. Bakugou snorts. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where it took you more than five minutes to make friends with someone,” he eyes you, “What’s your deal? You’re a transfer, right?” Your hands shake a little as you respond. 

“Yep.” It could be your imagination, but for a fraction of a second, Bakugou’s eyes flick to your hands before moving back to your face, softening a little. 

“Please.” Kirishima says, taking a step forward. “I’ll do something for you, anything.” You sigh, looking away. “I’ll introduce you to all our friends!” he offers. “You don’t know anyone, right?” 

“And I like it that way.” You counter and that gets a genuine laugh out of Bakugou. “I’ll tutor you, though,” you offer, “On one condition.” Kirishima nods, and you sit back down. “I will make every decision about this project.”  

“That’s fine!” He says brightly. “Thank you, thank you so much.” Bakugou clears his throat, you’re still holding his phone. 

“Actually,” you say, “This is an ok place to start.” You turn the phone to Kirishima on the table who shakes his head. 

“Read it to me, please, please it sounds so much better.” You massage your temples, watching Bakugou smirk. 

“Fie, fie, unknit that threatening unkind brow, And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.” You say, not sure where to look. 

“Ok, so don’t question your boss.” Kirishima says, “Got it.” 

“Not quite.” You say. “Very sweet of you to immediately strip the clearly gendered terminology from this passage.” Bakugou knocks shoulders with his boyfriend. 

“Try again.” He motions for you to continue. 

“It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads, Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds, And in no sense is meet or amiable. A woman mov’d is like a fountain troubled- Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.” 

“Oh.” Kirishima says. “This is about, uh, like, when women aren’t sweet they’re ugly?” You nod, smiling. 

“Yeah, that’s as decent interpretation. Think about the words, a woman moved is like a fountain troubled, women who have strong emotion or even rational thought that’s being read as emotion due to a sexist lense, has as much value as a fountain that’s broken, spewing mud. Think about that metaphor.” Kirishima’s brow furrows. 

“I don’t like this. I love it when women aren’t sweet.” Then he smiles at you. “‘Course, if they wanna be, that’s fine by me.” You hand Bakugou his phone back. 

“I’m finished debasing my gender for your entertainment.” You say to the blonde, and scribble something down on a scrap of paper. “I’m free Saturday afternoon, this is my number, text me if you want to be tutored.”  

_______

On Friday night, you’re curled up with a mug of hot chocolate and your favorite show, with a soft blanket, happily alone in your single. You get a text from Kirishima. 

Kirishima: hey! We’re having a movie night. Wanna come over?

You: I’m good, thanks 

Kirishima: come on, what are you doing?

You: watching Jane the Virgin

Kirishima: alone or am I interrupting a netflix and chill session

You: aaaaaaaaa i like being alone it’s fine 

You toss your phone aside, ignoring it’s incessant buzzing, watching Jane pick out a wedding dress, tearing up when her father shows up. You have a moment where you genuinely struggle with the desire to respond, grappling with your own social anxiety before choosing the comfort of being alone. There’s a soft knock at the door. You throw a zip up hoodie on over your tank top. 

“Hey,” There’s a guy standing in the hallway with dark hair. You don’t recognize him. “I’m Shindou, your next door neighbor.” You shrug. 

“Hi, can I help you?” You can smell the alcohol on his breath, he runs his fingers through his hair.. 

“Can I come in?” He asks, smiling brilliantly. You shake your head. 

“No thanks,” you lean against the doorframe. “What’s up?” He takes a step near you. 

“You can um,” he says, smiling sheepishly, “I was hoping I could come in.”  He’s swaying a little. 

“Nope,” you try and close the door but he wedges an elbow into it, catching the door frame in a large hand.

“I would like you to leave.” You say, with as much firmness as you can muster. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart.” He says, smiling, “Come on, don’t be a bitch about this,” 

“Don’t be a bitch about what?” A familiar voice growls from down the hallway.

“Just leave.” You say, pleading, trying again to close the door on him but he shoves his way in, stumbling drunk. You jump out of the way but he knocks into you, and you slam against the chest of drawers next to your door, the air rushing from your lungs. Strong hands pull  him back though, as you catch yourself before he can hit the ground. You see Bakugou slam him against a wall. 

“Walk it the fuck off.” Bakugou snarls, before turning his attention to you. “Text Kirishima back. You’re hurting his feelings.” He says, before registering your face, how shaken you are. “Oh shit, don’t fuckin’ cry.” Your hands shake, hard. 

“W-what are you doing in my building?” You ask. He blinks at you. 

“I live here.” He points to the black garbage bag he put down to grab Shindo. “That guys an asshole. Stay away from him.” You nod and he sighs, looking away. “Fine.” He pushes his way into your room, and before you can say anything he’s wrapping his arms around you. “Shh, or shut up or somethin’, okay?” You bury your face in his neck, it does feel nice, to be held. He lets you go after about a minute. “Come on. Movie night.” 

“I don’t-” 

“Did that sound like a fuckin’ invitation to you?” He snarls. “Because I meant it like a goddamn order.” You nod, sniffling a little. He waits for you while you pick up your phone and slip into some shoes. 

“Gonna uh,” he says, “Gonna put pants on?” You turn beet red and lift the end of your long hoodie to reveal the shorts you were wearing, he looks almost disappointed. “Come on then, we don’t have all damn night.” You grab your room key and phone and follow him down the hallway to the garbage shoot, and then up to his room. He lived on the fourth floor, and his room had slanted ceilings that were covered with posters. There’s a small crowd gathered on an array of beanbag chairs, and the small dorm room was spotless. Kirishima’s face lights up. 

“You came!” He says, getting up and giving you a quick hug. 

“Some fuckin’ asshole tried to barge into her room.” Bakugou growls. “Dick.” Kirishima’s eyes widen. 

“Who?” He says to Bakugou. Bakugou rolls his eyes. 

“Shindo, who the fuck else?” Kirishima’s jaw tightens for a second before turning to the group, snatching a remote and pausing the movie. 

“Hey! This is y/n. She’s really nice so try not to scare her off.” They introduce you to their friends, Denki, Mina, and Sero. “She’s a transfer.” They greet you, someone hands you a drink and you settle in an empty bean bag chair. Kirishima sits next to you, his face a little flushed. 

“Hey,” He says quietly. “Did you read my texts or did Bakugou just spirit you up here to make me happy?” You blink at him. 

“Um I didn’t read them.” you confess. “I just, people make me so nervous.” He nods. 

“I can tell.” He looks away. “I was pretty excited to be partnered with you. I uh, I’ve missed everything we were supposed to be learning in class because I keep staring at you.” 

“You’re drunk.” You say and he shrugs. 

“Catch up.” You hit him lightly on the back of the head, 

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” He laughs and slips an arm around you. 

“We have an understanding.” He leans over, “And honestly I think he likes you too.” You make a decision and down your drink quickly, then settle into the crook of his arm. He moves you, so that you’re flush against his side. You look around nervously but Sero and Mina are full on making out and ignoring the movie, Denki’s fallen asleep. You feel his breath on your ear and your neck erupts in goosebumps. “Can I get you another drink?” You nod, face burning. You turn your face and meet his eyes, for just a moment. “Hey, Bakugou, can you pass me that?” Kirishima points to the half empty bottle of vodka. You’d almost forgotten the blonde. Bakugou is lying on his bed, but he gets up, grabbing it and a plastic bottle of fruit juice. He sits down slowly on the other side of the beanbag chair with a grunt, taking your red plastic cup from you and dumping the rest of the cranberry juice in it. Kirishima gets on his side, resting his head in one of his palms. You mimic his movements, snuggling into his hard chest. Bakugou rolls his eyes and pours less than one shot into your cup. You pout.

“What? You don’t need more to drink.” He grumbles. You take the cup from him, and sip it. 

“This is basically just juice!” You complain and you feel Kirishima groan softly as you push up a little on the beanbag chair to get closer to Bakugou, inadvertently pressing your ass against his crotch. He takes one of your hips in his huge hand, reaching under your hoodie, fingers digging into your soft flesh. 

“I said you don’t need any more to drink.” Bakugou snaps. “I’ve got half a goddamn mind to take that from ya,” he eyes the cup, “And just get you both water.” Kirishima’s hand travels up under your hoodie, pushing your tank top up to rest on your waist. You give Bakugou your best, brattiest smile, and tip the cranberry juice drink into your mouth, chugging it and then handing him your empty cup. He smiles evilly and cocks his head to one side. “Brat. You’ll pay for that.” You shrug, feeling Kirishima start to rub circles into your skin, to draw your body closer to his.

“You should be nicer to him.” Kirishima says, as Bakugou climbs onto the beanbag chair, laying down and facing you. He watches your face carefully as Kirishima’s hand moves lower, under the elastic band of your shorts. You can feel his swelling erection rubbing against your ass. “He calls the shots around here, baby.” He parts your folds with two fingers and you feel your face warm as he drags his fingers lazily across your slit. He presses gently, experimentally, on your clit and your mouth drops open, sucking a sharp breath. 

Bakugou’s lips crash down on yours, muffling the sweet hiccuping moan that would have escaped your lips as Kirishima starts to circle your clit with one calloused hand. His kiss is hot, searing, and he swipes your lips with his tongue before slipping it between them, keeping you quiet in the darkness as the others watch the movie intently. He guides you carefully, cupping your face in expert hands, while Kirishima locks your body against his with one arm wrapped under your ribs, and tortures you with the other. 

“She’s so wet.” He whispers. “When’s the last time anyone touched you, baby?” He coos. Of course you don’t answer, you can’t, as he dips a finger into your aching core, and you bite down hard on Bakugou’s lip. You taste blood and the blonde pulls away from you, something wild in his eyes. You get out half a gasp before his mouth is back on yours, this time he reaches for your body, you hear your hoodie unzip. He reaches under your sweatshirt, palming your breasts, grunting softly. You hold onto his arms, digging little half moons in the contours of his bicep. 

“You’re so fuckin’ soft.” He says into your mouth. “Gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” You nod, Anything, anything as long as Kirishima didn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, pressing against that one bundle of nerves in a way that was making your eyes roll and your face hot. You can feel him grinding his hard cock against your ass. Bakugou lifts your tank top over your shirt and pulls your breasts out of your bra. “Nice tits.” He groans, before taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking hungrily. 

“She’s gonna cum.” Kirishima warns, and it’s true you can feel that tight coil in your stomach, feel the muscles in your thighs tense, as you near your release. To your dismay, Bakugou chuckles. 

“Nah, she doesn’t need it yet.” He moves back up into your eyeline. “In case you’re too stupid to understand that, you’re not allowed to cum yet, got it.” You meet his intense gaze and he rolls his eyes and covers your mouth with his free hand. “I wanna see you fuckin’ cry for it.” You flex your feet, squirming against Kirishima as you reach our and hold onto Bakugou’s muscled forearms. You feel his breath, hot on your ear. “C’mon bitch.” He growls. “I said I wanted to see you cry.” Kirishima drags his thrumb roughly across your clit and you nearly lose it, screwing up your face in concentration. 

“Aw,” Kirishima coos. “She wants to be a good girl so bad, Katsuki.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re doing so well, baby.” Bakugou grabs your jaw roughly, holding it so tightly that you’re forced to part your lips, panting like a dog. Your eyes start to water, it hurts, it hurts so badly, you just want to cum, you’ll do anything, you’re desperate for it. Your lower lip trembles as the first tear rolls down your cheek, disappearing into the fabric of the beanbag chair. 

“Harder.” Bakugou orders, and you can see him palming his cock with his free hand through his pants. For a second you think he’s talking to you but when Kirishima picks up the pace you realize you were wrong, he watches you tremble. “You look fucking pathetic.” He snarls. “What would you give me, to cum, right now?” 

“Anything.” You breathe, eyes watering. “Anything you wanted.” He grins again, that same wildness in his eyes before he spits in your open mouth. 

“Swallow.” He commands, still speaking lowly enough so that his friends, apparently incredibly stoned, can’t here. “Then cum for me, bitch.” You release the coil you’d been holding and your whole body spasms as wave after wave of pleasure hits you, Kirishima carefully carries you through your high. You’re vaguely aware, on some level, of how you’re gushing around his fingers, of his little groan,

“Shit, she clenches so hard when she cums.” Kirishima breathes. Bakugou’s mouth is pressed against yours, muffling the desperate moan that comes from deep within you. Your hands shake as you grab fistfuls of his t-shirt and hold on for dear life. When your vision clears you’re on your back between the two men. Kirishima is brushing the hair softly off your forehead, and Bakugou is pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your cheek. “Is your room empty, baby?” Kirishima asks and you nod, unable to speak yet. “Should we go there?” You nod again and try to stand, feeling how sticky your shorts have become, the drying slick on your thighs. 

“Wait!” Kirishima says and your knees give out. Bakugou catches you easily, lifting you in his arms and rolling his eyes. 

“Don’t try and walk after cumming like that, stupid.” He says, shaking his head. They walk down to  your empty dorm room, where when they flick the lights on, your long forgotten mug of hot chocolate is on the window sill, probably ice cold. 

“This is so cute!” Kirishima coos. “You know I’ve had a crush on you all semester.” He smoothes out  your baby blue comforter. “It’s not exactly how I’ve imagined it, but it’s so you.” Bakugou deposits you on the bed. 

“Knew there was a reason you had no fuckin’ clue what was happening in that class.” He looks at you. “When you can talk again he’s gonna need a goddamn tutor, so I hope we didnt fuck anything in there,” he taps your forehead, “up permanently.”  Kirishima looks sheepish and Bakugou continues. “But if you’re not talkin’ I can think of much better uses for your mouth.” You nod, and clear your throat with a high pitched grunt. 

“You uh,” you look at Kirishima. “You like me?” 

“I may or may not have begged the professor to pair us together for this project.” You giggle. 

“Oi, sorry,” Bakugou snaps. “I meant suck my fuckin’ dick.” You flush, embarassed, he sits on your chair, unzipping his pants and putting one of your pillows at his feet. “Crawl.” He says pointing lazily at his feet. You slip all the way out of your hoodie before obliging. 

“She’s really so good,” Kirishima coos, “I knew that attitude was all an act, right, baby, you just wanna make us feel good, right?” You barely hear him, Bakugou’s taken his dick out of his pants and there’s no other word for it, it’s pretty. Long and thick, the head a deep pink and dripping with precum. 

“Yeah.” You say softly, before taking the tip of him in your mouth, giving it a little kitten lick to clean the precum off of it before taking as much of it as you can, drooling sloppily on his lap. He groans. 

“Fuck, yeah princess, just like that,” He catches your eyes, “Love the way your lips look on my fat fuckin’ cock, look up at me, like that.” He looks up, putting one hand on the back of your head, setting a pace for you, forcing you just a little farther with each thrust. “What are you waiting for, shitty hair?” He growls. “Just gonna watch?” Kirishima runs his fingers through his hair and glances at Bakugou’s hands, tangled in your hair, “Awww,” Bakugou makes the sweetest sound his gravel allows, “You were waiting for permission, like a good boy.” Kirishima nods. 

“Y-yes, sir.” He says. 

“Take her shorts off.” Bakugou orders, leaning back in your fold up chair, the canvas groaning.” You lovinging flick  your tongue over the underside of his cock. He pulls you back off of him though and speaks, “Green means go, yellow means slow down, red means stop. If you tap me,” He says, tapping his own thigh, in case you were too stupid to understand that, “I will stop. Understand?” You nod. “Say it.” He says gruffly. 

“I understand.” You say, and he reaches down, parting your soft lips with his thumb. You suck it hungrily and he smiles when you scrape your teeth against the pad of his finger. 

“Get back to work.” He orders, and you do, taking as much of him as you can, concentrating on keeping your throat relaxed, swelling with pride at every little groan you elicit from his mouth. Kirishima kneels behind you, letting out a soft whine as he rubs the head of his cock against your slit. 

“She’s so wet,” Kirishima moans, ‘Can, can I please fuck her, please?” Bakugou takes his eyes off yours for a moment, not releasing the back of your head. 

“Have you been a good fuckin’ boy?” He asks huskily. Kirishima nods emphatically. “Hmmm,” Bakugou rumbles, closing his eyes in pleasure as you drool on his cock. “What do you think,” he grabs you by the hair and pulls you off his dick, “Want him to fuck you?” You turn around and look at him, and gasp a little. He’s so big, the biggest you’ve ever seen, wide and long, at least 8 inches, purple tipped and dripping with precum. He’s pumping himself slowly. You turn back to Bakugou. 

“I-Is it gonna hurt, daddy?” You ask, the title slipping from your lips like water. Bakugou’s dick twitches in front of your face. 

“He can go slow, for you,” Bakugou growls, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Make sure she’s prepped dumbass.” He nods at Kirishima, and you move to keep sucking Bakugou’s cock but he catches your face. “I wanna watch you take it.” He says gruffly, savoring the way your eyes widen at the pressure, and then the stretch, and then the pain, as Kirishima gently eases inside of you. He waits to move until he hears your sharp little gasp, your mouth dropping open and saliva dribbling down your chin. Bakugou grins, taking the chance to force himself back in your mouth, focusing on his own orgasm now, grabbing a fistful of your hair and setting his own pace. This time it’s impossible to relax, if you could concentrate on anything it would be the pleasant pain of Kirishima rutting his huge cock against your soft walls, but Bakugou forces your head all the way up his length, so that your nose is pressed to the blonde tuft of hair at his stomach. 

“Fuck,” Kirishima says harshly, “She got even tighter when you did that,” he picks up the pace a little and you see stars. Bakugou starts fucking your throat in earnest now, groaning, fingers tearing through your hair. 

“Take it, bitch,” He growls, when he sees your eyes start to water as  you gag, “Fuck yeah, baby just like that, you like this?” He looks at Kirishima, blushy and glossy eyed as he snaps his hips against your ass. “You like gettin’ fuckin’ spitroasted like some dirty fuckin’ whore, huh?” There’s no way for you to respond, not with your jaw aching, not as his thrusts become erratic and he slams himself all the way down your throat again. You feel him start to explode in your throat, but then he pulls out, coating your face in his cum and leaning back in  your chair. “Good girl,” he breathes while you gag and sputter, “Good fuckin’ girl.” He sighs heavily. “You look so good like this, daddy’s desperate little slut, arentcha?”

“Y-yes daddy.” You say with the first lungful of sweet air you’re able to get. “Oh god,” you choke out as Kirishima starts going even faster, hitting your g-spot with every thrust, hitting every spot, even now, it hurt a little, he was so, so big. Bakugou leans forward and pushes down on your shoulders so that you’re down on your elbows, forcing your back into a harsher arch. With nothing to muffle your sounds they spill from your lips like water, “K-kirishima,” you moan, and he laughs, slapping your ass lightly. 

“So what, he’s daddy and I’m Kirishima?” 

“Sounds right to me.” Bakugou says threateningly, from your chair, reaching out to brush the hair out of your face, surprisingly gently. “Do you want to cum again, bitch?” He asks and you nod vigourously. “Use your words.” He snaps. 

“Yes, daddy, wanna cum please.” You look up at him, eyes wide. 

“Do you deserve to cum?” He asks and you nod without thinking. 

“Please, please let me, I’ll, I’ll do whatever you want I-” The words come out of your mouth so quickly that he laughs at you. 

“So fuckin’ eager to please,” He taunts, “You wanna be a good girl so badly, don’t you, just wanna be daddy’s good slut?” 

“F-fuck.” Kirishima groans, kneading at your ass, grabbing your hips and fucking you butally, your knees give out, “She got so tight when you said that, keep going, please,” he begs, 

“You like when I tell you you’re a slut huh?” Bakugou rasps, grinning at your stupid fucked out expression, “You look so good covered in my cum, bitch, such a good little cocksleeve, just a sweet little cunt on legs.” Kirishima reaches down and pinches your clit between two fingers and  you keen, “You can cum, cocksleeve.” Bakugou orders and Kirishima rakes his nails down your back as you come undone beneath him with a soft cry, a choked sob. 

“I’m close.” Kirishima whines, “Where should I-” 

“On her.” Bakugou says. “I wanna see my pretty little bitch covered in our cum.” You look up at that. “That’s right, baby, you’re my fucking bitch now.” Kirishima pulls out, his hot release spurting all over your back as your whole body trembles. Kirishima collapses on the floor next to  you but Bakugou reaches into his pocket, grabs his phone and snaps a picture. “You look so good all fucked out.” He says. “Don’t move, dumbasses.” He gets up, fixing his pants and then leaves. You hear your door close and turn your head to Kirishima. 

“Hi.” You say very quietly. He smiles at you. 

“You okay?” You nod. “We’ll take good care of you.” He coos, “Aftercare is important. He’s right, by the way, you look so fucking good like this.” He takes you in, swollen lips, and glossy eyes, watery black lines on your cheeks from the last remnants of your eye makeup. He reaches over, dipping two fingers into the cum on your back and then pushing them between your lips. You lick them clean and he beams at you. “Such a good girl!” You warm with pride at the praise. You hear the door open and Bakugou comes back. He squats beside you. 

“C’mere.” He grunts, carefully, gently wiping your face with a warm washcloth, and when your face is clean he kisses your forehead and hands the towel to Kirishima, who cleans off your back. He cups your face in both of his hands. 

“Good girl.” Bakugou says gruffly. “Gonna lie down with us, let us take care of ya a little?” You nod and Bakugou climbs into your twin bed, flattening himself against the wall. Kirishima lifts you, laughing at your humiliating attempt at walking. 

“You might have a limp tomorrow.” He says brightly. “But maybe not! Not everyone does.” Bakugou takes your body, angling it against his, and Kirishima lies down, facing the two of you, giving Bakugou a sweet tender kiss before throwing his phone at the lightswitch, effectively engulfing the room in darkness. 

“That better not have broken your shit, dumbass.” Bakugou grumbles, as Kirishima slips a leg in between yours. “You got a case for your shit yet?” Kirishima freezes. 

“Oh fuck,” he yawns, “Oops. Set an alarm for me?” Bakugou nods. “You okay?” Kirishima asks you again, scrutinizing  your face. 

“Yeah,” you sigh happily. “Tired.” 

“Go to sleep.” Bakugou says. “Both of you. It’s late as fuck.” You close your eyes, focusing on the soft breathing of the two men holding you, feeling safe, and warm and comfortable. 

It’s much, much later when you stir. You’re sleeping on top of Bakugou’s chest and Kirishima is spooning you, with his face buried in his boyfriend’s neck. There’s a knocking at your door. 

“Hey,” you hear, “Hey, you up, I know you’re in there.” You move a little and Bakugou is awake immediately, anchoring you to his chest with one arm. 

“Someone’s here?” You whisper. “I don’t know.” Kirishima gets up  and rubs his eyes. 

“I’ll check it out.” He opens the door in his boxers. “Oh, hey Shindo?” 

“I-is, y/n there?” Kirishima grins. 

“Yeah, but it’s 3AM. She’s real tired, if you get my drift.”

“Fuck you.” Shindou spits, slamming the door in Kirishima’s face, he bursts out laughing. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou growls, shifting you to the far side of his chest and reaching an arm out for Kirishma. “Do you know what goddamn time it is?” He pulls the slightly larger boy into him. “She’s gotta tutor you tomorrow.” Kirishima sighs with happiness. 

“Then we gotta take her on a real date.” You open your eyes. “Wanna go to olive garden?” 

“No.” You and Bakugou say at the same time. “Go the fuck to sleep!” 

if u enjoyed this fic please consider reblogging/leaving me a comment! It helps me know what people like so i know what to write more of <3

ON MY KNEES

made by bloodybeni

i think katsuki just answers his phone by barking out, "bakugou." no hello, probably doesn't even look at the caller id LOL when he hears it's you, though, i think he breathes out the tension he didn't realize was coiled in his shoulders, and says a lil, "hey," 🥺🥺

and i think when he calls you, and you answer with your sweet, "helloooo ??" he is so soft 😌 just mumbles out a quiet, "what'chu doin'?" and listens as you tell him, before saying what he needed to 😌

Fractalize (part 1)

Title: Fractalize

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.

Word count: 3700+

Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)

Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.

It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.

A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.

Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.

It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.

Imagine. Remake. Slip.

You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.

Remake, slip.

You have new vocabulary now.

"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.

"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".

"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.

"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.

"If you say so" - for everything else.

You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.

Yes this and no that.

Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.

Wasn't worth it.

***

"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.

It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.

You pull the blanket higher. "I do."

He knows it.

The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.

"What kind?"

Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.

Or-

You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.

She probably thought you abandoned her.

"Cats."

Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.

"We can get one, if you'd like."

"No."

Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.

"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.

The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.

She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.

Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."

A chair creaks. "Why?"

You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.

"Don't need it."

"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.

"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.

Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.

"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"

Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.

"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."

His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"

"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.

There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.

"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.

"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.

He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.

Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.

"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.

"On what?"

"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."

You don't respond.

To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.

Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.

His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.

"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.

"It's early."

"Mm."

He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.

You watch him. Wait.

"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."

Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.

"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."

You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.

"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."

"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."

You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.

He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.

You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.

"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.

His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.

"I'm right then," you say.

"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."

There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.

"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."

You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,

"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."

***

The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.

Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.

Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.

You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.

A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.

It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.

You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?

Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.

"Dear."

You almost jump.

Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.

"Mm?"

"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."

You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.

"Was just thinking."

"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.

True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.

For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.

Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.

He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."

His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.

"What was on your mind then?"

Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.

"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."

If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.

"Tell me."

You hate when he does that.

"It was boring."

"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."

Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.

If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.

It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.

"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."

Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.

"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."

There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.

"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, I got sad."

Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.

"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."

"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.

It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.

"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."

You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.

"Mm," you say.

Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.

☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns  as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt. 

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.” 

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,”  he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend. 

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you. 

that’s created the very person he loves today. 

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.” 

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change. 

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.” 

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.” 

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares. 

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?” 

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates  let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.” 

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!” 

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.” 

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely. 

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen. 

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold. 

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Dark!Toji Fushiguro x reader

Intruder

(Dark content, noncon/dubcon, threats of gun violence)

finally completed the toji fic hope yall like it~

(Yandere, non con, dubcon, breaking/entering, attempted plan to murder, etc, etc) 

Living near the countryside has desensitized you to the thumps and crashes you’d hear at night. In the beginning you’d be paranoid, laying in your bed for hours before gathering the courage to step out of the room, trusty bat in hand, only to find a stray cat staring back, right beside an open window. Nowadays, you’re cooly shooing away whatever creature that finds their way in your home. Mostly it’s cats, sometimes you’d get the occasional bird or racoon. 

The situation has happened so many times that you aren’t even surprised to hear the soft rattle that comes from your kitchen tonight. You’re already moving, rousing from your soft bed, grabbing your trusty broom ready to scare away whatever creature you’d find scurrying about your kitchen floor. A rat, most likely. 

But the thing rustling through your fridge is no rodent, and you don’t recognize this man. 

It doesn’t occur to you that you’re being robbed until half a second later. Mainly because of how casual this bizarre situation is. He’s rifling through your food like it’s normal and you’re the weirdo carrying the broom. 

“Damn, there’s nothing here. Do you not eat or something?” 

You assume he’s thinking out loud, but he glances back at you like he expected you there. 

“I-I haven’t gotten the chance to go shopping this week,” You find yourself replying. 

He gives a hum, slamming the fridge shut, standing to his full height and you’re instantly aware of how ill-prepared you are to fight him. He’s huge, not just in height. He looks better fit for a bodybuilder than a run-of-the-mill robber. 

You left your phone upstairs. Why the fuck did you leave your phone upstairs? 

You lower your broom, trying to make yourself seem as little threatening as you can. Your mind is running too fast to conjure any real thoughts, but the part of you that hasn’t completely broken down yet is telling you it’s better to avoid any confrontation. A distraction. 

“There’s a TV in the next room,” You numbly point towards the living room, “It’s brand new….would probably go for a thousand.”

He barely seems interested, eyes flicking to glance over before going to you. 

“That’s nice,” He waves your offer off, “But I’m not here to steal your stuff.” 

“You’re…you’re not?” You reply weakly. 

There’s a grin on his face, a touch away from being maniacal. His hand is brushing his hip, lightly playing with the hilt of a gun.

Oh. 

Maybe it’s because you’re still half asleep, your brain isn’t working as efficiently, it takes you a bit longer to process his intentions. When it finally does, the realization hits you like a train. Your mouth gets dry, it suddenly feels so cold. Fear. You’ve never felt fear like this before. 

You don’t notice the steps you take backward. He does. The man groans in something you can only discern as annoyance. 

“Don’t do that,” He frowns, “Come on, I’m trying to be nice here. I can’t chase you around the house, I'm supposed to make it look like an accident.” 

His nonchalance is terrifying. Like he’s done this before. He probably has. How many people has he murdered in their own homes? How many bodies does it take to be so calm around imminent death? 

You don’t have time to wonder, not when something he said catches your attention. 

“Were…were you hired to come here?” 

His mouth twitches and it looks like he’s thinking. Finally, he shrugs, like the information he gives won’t really do anything to harm him. 

“Yeah, some rich folk in the city. Can’t remember their names for shit though.” 

Someone had a vendetta against you? Enough to want to kill you? Your mind is running through every single name, every quarrel you’ve had. Family members, friends, aquantinances. Nothing enough comes up. 

Nothing is supposed to. Only crazy people hire hitmen. 

And hitmen are even crazier. 

You take another step back.

He takes another forward. 

You won’t be able to fight him, and trying to run will just piss him off. You know you can’t reason with him. If he’s come this far, if he looks so bored, nothing is going to stop him from actually killing you. Pathetically, you try anyway, if only to lengthen what’s left of your life. 

“Please just-” 

“Don’t start begging,” He groans, cutting you off, “That’s just annoying.” 

“Isn’t there anything else you want,” You desperately say, “Anything? That-that isn’t…” 

The hitman shrugs, “I mean, if you wanna’ try to pay me off, you can.” 

“How-how much was the…” You can’t bring yourself to say it, but he seems to get your point. 

The amount makes your eyes widen. Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the man. He sighs, cracking his neck. 

“Thought so,” He says, reaching to pull something out of his back, “Sorry, Princess, ‘Nothing against you, promise. Gotta’ pay rent somehow, right?” 

“I-I can pay!” You interrupt, “Really! I can pay.” 

He pauses, tilting his head. He’s probably thinking you’re pathetic but you don’t give a shit. The money will take a huge chunk out of your savings, but you could pay. You could live. 

“With-with interest?” 

He grins, “Now you’re speaking my language.” 

He leans away, walking towards the counter. You still don’t move. Stiff. He seems to notice.

“Don’t be like that.” He chides, the danger in his voice fades, as though it was never there in the first place, “I’m trying to be civil now, aright? Anyway, let’s talk. How do you want to pay?” 

“Whatever way you want,” You say numbly, “But…how-how am I supposed to know you won’t just go back to the person and ask them to ramp up his price?” 

You hated how clinical you were talking about your own damn life, but you’re too emotionally exhausted to do anything about it, let alone try to put any sort of emotion behind your words. 

“They won’t be able to find me.” A confident grin, that doesn’t make you feel any less uncertain. “Don’t worry about it.” 

He cocks his head, studying you for a second. 

“You look different from the photos I saw,” He’s saying, not necessarily saying them to you, “They don’t do you justice.” 

You don’t say anything, fiddling with your fingers, hoping this creep will just give you his card and leave. 

“Toji,” He suddenly says. 

Your head snaps up. 

“My name,” He says slowly, grinning all the while, “And yours?” 

“...You already know,” You reply warily. 

“I do. Say it.” This time his voice comes out sharper. 

You comply anyway, still too scared to face the man. His relaxed demeanor returns and Toji says your name a few times, like he’s trying it out. 

He’s looking around your house now, and you feel like it’s the first time he’s seeing it because it looks like he’s admiring it. Fingers tap on your counter. 

“Nice place you got here,” Toji says. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t really care, not until he gives you a sharp look, calculating. 

“Sharin’ it with anyone?” 

Oh. Oh. You did not like where this conversation was going. 

“...I do,” You’re saying, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as strained as you think it is, “...With my boyfriend.” 

“Boyfriend?” Toji repeats, dark eyes flicking back to you in interest, “Where is he?” 

“Overseas,” 

His grin widens, “So he’ll be gone for a while, right?” 

“No, he’s-he’s coming back tonight-” 

“Hm, but you just said he was overseas?” You hate his smile, how cocky he looks, but it’s washed away by the dread of him slowly sauntering up to you. 

Unconsciously, you press yourself against the wall, hoping it can suck you in, and you can hide forever. 

Toji reaches you before that can happen. 

His touch is light, not gentle, but in the way that you can sense he isn’t really interested in touching you. Rather he’s just moving his hands unintentionally, around your face, your lips. 

“You’re real cute, anyone tell you that lately?” His voice dropped, losing the lightness of his tone. You don’t realize he wants an answer until he presses on your jaw. It hurts. 

“No…” You mumble. 

Toji tilts his head, looking oddly satisfied with your obedience. You wondered if you should fight him off, if you should at least try. At the very most, your pride would still be intact. You could say you went down screaming. 

“No boyfriend, huh,” Toji tsks, “You must be very lonely, in this big, empty house. Like an isolated housewife” His voice is low, and patronizing, and you feel like you’re being mocked but you can handle that. Tolerate it. 

But you can see the change in his eyes. The interest. Once again, you weakly open your mouth. 

“The money-” 

“Later,” Toji says huskily, “It can wait.” 

His lips are soft, but uncared for. You can feel the roughness of them as he glides them across yours. You think he’s thinking about holding back, being gentle, but it quickly disappears along with the lack of control. He’s rough, practically pressing you against the wall. You can feel his chest against yours. His shirt’s thin, it’d be no different if he didn’t have it on, but you think you prefer this. The barrier, no matter how papery it was. 

He’s aggressive now, using his teeth, biting your lips until they’re raw, irritated. His hands are losing the domesticity, running fingers up and down your body. You fought back once, just once, with a tight grip on his even stronger wrist, nails digging into skin, hoping it’ll hurt. There was an irritated growl, and you hear the metal click of something being set off. After that, you let him have his fill.

When he pulls away, there’s a delirious look in his eyes. He’s panting, out of breath, excited. You’re panting too. You’re trembling. He doesn’t notice, more likely, he doesn’t care. 

He’s sucking on your neck like a man in need. Wanton. His teeth are sharp, and you flinch when he bites down, just enough to leave a bruise. 

“You’re pretty nonchalant about this, huh?” Toji casually asks, like he wasn’t making you dig your back against the wall. It’s a rhetorical question, at least you think it is. You find yourself answering anyway. To distract yourself. 

“I don’t want you to hurt me.” 

You wonder if you’re being too honest, but he’s laughing against your neck. Amused. 

“Smart girl,” He breathes in your ear. 

“If-if I do this with you,” You start, gaining his attention, “Will you leave?”

You can’t delude yourself anymore. You know what he wants, but this can’t be for nothing. It can’t. He has to promise that he’ll go. He can take his damn money and go. You can pick the pieces you sold later, when he’s out of your life, out of your house. 

He smiles. You can feel it. 

“Yes,” He finally says, “I’ll go.” 

You both know his lying. You will yourself to believe it anyway. 

His hands crawl underneath your shirt, exploring and reaching at everything he could possibly reach. You aren’t wearing a bra. He hums his approval in your ear. His hands are cold as they glide over your body, making you twitch when he reaches your tits. He gives a rough squeeze. You yelp. 

“My bad,” Toji slurred. He’s not apologetic, but his movements are less erratic now. 

You’re complying. At least, you think you are, with your stiff body, not pushing, not fighting. But something breaks when he’s manhandling you like this. Maybe it’s your pride, dignity, maybe both. 

It doesn’t matter, not when the end result is still the tears dripping down your cheeks, stinging your skin. 

He pulls away when you shudder out a sob, observing you. You wonder if he’s disgusted, maybe your tears discouraged him. 

Your hopes dissipate when something hard presses against your thigh. 

“Fuck, I’m a terrible person,” He’s laughing, like this is a shared joke between you and him. Like this is funny, “That shouldn’t have turned me on.” 

It’s not funny, but you don’t dare say anything. 

You want to feel relief when he’s bored of your shirt, tugging it down, but it’s quickly replaced by even more dread when he’s moving to your shorts. Your bottoms might as well have been made from paper, with how easily he rips them off. He lets out a happy sigh when he sees you aren’t wearing underwear. You just fester in your humiliation. 

“Aw, don’t be like that,” He coos when you stiffly look away, “I’ll play nice, princess. Be soft and sweet.” 

You should be grateful that he lets you hide in his chest as he traces light circles on your heat. You’re already wet. Humiliation is throttling. 

He doesn’t lie. He’s gentle, at the very least. He thumbs your clit with a slow rhythm, constrained. It makes your hips bump into him. He laughs again. Every time you think about fighting him off, you think about the gun in his hands. You think about a bullet in your head. Your blood soaking the tile floor. 

So you close your eyes and you let him, but you tell yourself that you won’t give in. 

You fail at that too. 

It’s the hushed gasp that causes him to really pay attention. He pauses. 

“Ya’ like that, Princess?” As if to underline his question, thumbs your clit a bit more intently. It’s a lot harder to stifle your noises now that he’s trying to make you loud. 

You hate it. You hate him. You hate how good he makes you feel. It’s a never-ending high, getting you closer but never close enough. 

His fingers suddenly retreat, and whatever he builds up leaves with him. You sigh. 

“Can’t let you have all the fun, can we?” Toji sneers at your perceived disappointment.

 If it were anyone else you would have glared, but today, you timidly look away, just when he starts to unbuckle his pants. He seems to respect his clothes a bit more than yours. You don’t hear the rough sound of fabric tearing, just as he taps your cheek. 

“Deep breaths okay, Princess?” 

His statement makes you want to laugh. It almost sounds like he cared about you. Still, you unwillingly take his advice, just as something hot and thick lines up at your entrance. Your eyes widen, momentary panic makes you forget about the gun. 

“No-no please don’t-!” 

He harshly covers your mouth, just as he pushes himself inside. You give a muffled whine. He just gives a breathy hiss. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, as you choke on a scream. He has the graciousness to let you adjust to him. He rocks back and forth, letting his cock rub against your walls. 

“So fucking good. Goddamn,” He huffs out a laugh, “Can’t believe that ‘boyfriend’ of yours gets this sweet pussy every night.” 

You sob at his filthy praise, and yet, your body reacts. Your cunt clamps onto him like a vice as he stretches you out. Right to the hilt. 

He starts moving eventually. Slow and steady, as he presses you into the wall. His hands find your tits again, roughly palming them as your squeaks of discomfort turn to unwilling moans. You find yourself growing even wetter, much to your dismay. 

He seems to sense that too. His lecherous grin grows even wider. The scar tugs on his lips. 

“Aw, you do like me.” He teases. 

You glare at him. In turn, Toji slams his cock back into your battered cunt, extinguishing your look of disdain. You whine into his hand. He hums. 

“Too much, baby? Or not enough?” He’s so fucking delusional. Why is he acting like you enjoy this? This is a special kind of hell, one concocted just for you. Where he is your jailer. 

But he’s right. It’s not enough. It’s not enough because you’re stuck in that limbo yet again, but it’s okay because you’d rather die than fall apart by his hands. 

He picks up the pace. You gasp, unused to the roughness of his touch. You still hold yourself back, telling yourself it’s not enough, it’s not enough. Your spine arches, despite the way you try to control your body, forcing yourself not to react. 

It doesn’t work. It’s a laughable attempt at some type of control. He makes it worse by reaching down to thumb your puffy clit. 

You don’t last much longer after that. Your orgasm breaks you, shattering you on the floor as you let out the loudest scream. It’s almost painful. You can feel it rupture through your bones, your skin. Toji doesn’t have the decency even to let up, fucking you through it, carrying you from one high to the next peak. 

He crushes himself into you as he cums, grunting in your ear. You can feel the implosion inside of you, painting your insides white with him. The sudden warmth draws another reluctant whine out of your lips. 

You’d stop supporting your own wieght a while ago, with only him to keep you upright. No longer interested in holding up your weight, Toji lets you sink to the ground with jelly legs. His cock slips out of you, wet and dripping. Content, he tucks it back into his pants. 

The power imbalance is more apparent than ever. Dazed, you can admit to yourself that he’s pretty. Rugged, pieces of himself that he clearly put back together. His smile is nefarious as he gazes at you. His smile is gone, but there’s a satisfied look in his eyes. A tiger that’s sated but not yet full. You avert your gaze, feeling your tears well up again. 

“Think you can get up?”

“No,” You honestly reply.

He laughs, leaning down to pick you up, assembling the pieces of you in his arms. He’s so gentle; for some reason, it makes it worse. Out of sheer exhaustion, you allow your head to rest against his broad chest. 

The fan in your room is still spinning as he carries you toward your bed. You feel his hands leave your back as you drop on the soft pillows. You don’t know what you’re expecting, but he follows suit, shuffling under the covers after you. 

You shift, turning on your side, hoping he won’t force you to cuddle with him. Surprisingly, he relents, moving his attention to something nestled in the covers. Your phone is taken from its resting spot, and placed somewhere behind him. 

“That’s my-” 

“I know. I’m gonna keep this just in case you get cold feet and do something neither of us will appreciate.” 

“I won’t.” You whisper. 

He hums, draping a large arm around your body, drawing you into his chest. The stilted conversation dulls and you’re forced to feel his breathing tickle your neck. You’re unnerved by how domestic this feels, how naturally Toji is able to crawl into your home, into your bed. 

Despite your quickened heartbeat, you try your best to shut your eyes. You pray he’ll be gone in the morning. 

The tightening of his arm tells you he won’t go away so easily. 

“I just thought of something else I can use you for.” You can feel his grin on your neck. 

“Keep your money.”

𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗂'𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾. ๑ 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 !

★! 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: gojo satoru x fem!reader.

★! 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: itadori and nobara find out that their sensei is married.

★! 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 & 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: fluff ! established relationship. use of pet-names ((sweets, honey, queen)). use of 'y/n'. husband gojo <3 megumi refers to you as his mother. gojo + you + megumi = happy (found) family!! eng isn't my first language, so sorry for the mistakes/typos.

Itadori looked around for Megumi while carrying at least five of Nobara's shopping bags. It was a day off, which meant that instead of fighting horrible monsters, they were fighting Nobara's insatiable desire to spend all her money on new clothes and random things that were one hundred percent useless.

But somehow Megumi just disappears from his sight.

Apart from the fact that he didn't like to go shopping with Nobara ⸻ for obvious reasons, like the fact that they were her chauffeur back then ⸻ Megumi wasn't the one to just give up. At least he would just sit down somewhere, or he would just stand behind them all grumpy.

Curious about his disappearance, Itadori's hands tightened the straps of the shopping bags and adjusted them before he left the shop, keeping a watchful eye on everyone passing by. Well, Nobara would be fine, she was very strong and besides, she was in the company of their sensei ⸻ nothing could go wrong in Gojo's eyes.

After walking for a while, Itadori saw his friend ⸻ thanks to his sea urchin-like hair ⸻ near an ice cream parlor. But something else catches Itadori's eye and paralyzes him.

Megumi's smile.

Of course, on rare occasions, Itadori had seen his friend smile, but it was a short smile that lasted only two seconds before his grumpy face took over. But this smile that Itadori saw in front of him was the biggest and brightest smile he had ever seen. He hadn't even known that Megumi's teeth were that white.

But something else ⸻ apart from Megumi's smile ⸻ caught Yuji's attention.

Or rather the reason why Megumi was smiling like that.

The woman standing next to Megumi, who also has a bright smile on her face. She said something to the boy that made him blush and try to hide his face, but she just giggled at his reaction and gently touched Megumi's hair.

The first thing that came to Yuji's mind was that Megumi had a secret girlfriend. What else could it have been? Megumi wouldn't smile like that or let anyone touch his hair ⸻ well, in his own experience, considering that Yuji almost lost his hand when he tried it.

Shocked by the whole scene, Yuji turned around and ran back to the shop where Nobara and Gojo were.

"Hey! Where were you?!" Nobara asked at the same moment Itadori found his friend and sensei.

"Megumi has a girlfriend?" He asked Gojo.

"What?" His sensei looked shocked at the question, "Not that I know of. Why?"

"He's talking to a woman near the ice-cream parlor and he's smiling, like he has a really big smile on his face," Itadori recounts the scene as if it were the most incredible thing in the world, "Plus she touched his hair and he did nothing!"

"I can't believe Megumi is dating someone before me!" Nobara complained with horror in her eyes.

"You all know what time it is?" Gojo asked, earning a confused look from his students. "Formation B!"

Nobara and Itadori nodded their heads and started to run to where Megumi was with the unknown woman. When Itadori and Nobara saw Megumi, they exchanged a look before running and jumping into Megumi, scaring the boy and his companion.

"What are you doing?" Megumi asked, confused. The smiling face is gone, now it's just his grumpy face.

"I can't believe you are cheating on us, Fushiguro!" Nobara faked a cry.

"I thought you said we were forever!" Itadori also faked a cry.

The woman next to them laughed at the scene.

"Y/n?" Gojo looked shocked to see his wife standing there. His wife who was supposed to be on a mission in another country and was due back next week.

"Toru! Hey!" Your smile seemed to widen as you ran into your husband's arms.

"I missed you so much!" Satoru hugged you back, hiding his face in the curve of your neck.

"It was supposed to be a surprise, Toru!" You laughed softly as he broke the hug and started to kiss your face all over.

"WAIT! ISN'T SHE MEGUMI'S GIRLFRIEND?" Nobara looked shocked when she saw her sensei kissing the unknown woman.

"My girlfriend?" Megumi looked at his two friends in confusion.

"I saw you and her, and you were smiling, and you didn't take her hand away when she touched your hair, so I thought maybe she was your girlfriend." Itadori said.

"She's my mom, of course I would let her touch my hair…" Megumi rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Your mom?" Nobara looked between her friend and the woman.

"And she's my wife too!" Gojo said proudly, showing the rings on their fingers.

"YOUR WIFE?" Nobara almost fainted at the news, "She's so pretty... how could YOU marry someone like her?"

"I asked the same thing when they got married." Megumi whispered.

"I can't believe that Gojo-sensei is married to a goddess…"

"Hey man, she's already married and happy." Satoru looks at Itadori through his glasses. "And what is your problem with me? Am I that bad? Sweets, am I that bad?" Satoru grumbles.

"No, honey. You're perfect!" You kissed his cheeks, making him smile at you. "Well, it was really nice to meet you, Nobara and Itadori."

"You know our name?"

"Of course! You are Gumi's new friends. I'm glad to have the opportunity to meet you in person."

"Do you tell your mother about us?" Nobara smiled sideways.

"I complain about the two of you to my mom, that's different."

"I knew you loved us, Gumi!" Itadori put his arms around Megumi's shoulders.

"Well, that was quite a meeting," you smiled. "But I have to meet Yaga and deliver some reports. I hope you have a good afternoon, see you later!"

"I'll go with you." Gojo intertwined his finger with yours.

"And your students?"

"They know how to take care of themselves, right guys?" Gojo smiled at his students and without letting them answer, he pulled you towards the exit of the mall. "Let's go home, I want to cuddle all day."

"You know I have some mission reports to deliver, right?"

"Nobody cares about reports!"

"You don't care about the reports, Toru." you said, emphasizing the 'you'.

"Oh come on sweets, I haven't seen you in a long time, I just want to spend some time with my beautiful and precious wife!" he pouted.

"Okay, Toru, but tomorrow I'll deliver the reports, got it?" you squeeze his hand three times.

"Whatever my queen wants!"

seonghrtz͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏© ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ⎯⎯ all rights reserved. please do not copy/steal/translate any of my works !!

SAY YES 2 HEAVEN

a/n: continuation of this. ARRRGHHH also i swear i couldve written this better i kinda hate this lol / tagging @jabamin @shotorus @hyomagiri @crysugu @valberry @lov3rbody ✩

wc: 4.1k (got carried away again ! lord help me)

warnings: dad!gojo, fem!reader, he is enamoured with you, dom!gojo, calls you ‘mama’, also like slight daddy kink, sex while pregnant, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, implied f! masturbation, oral / cunnilingus, fingering, clit stimulation, praise, pet names, spitting, mating press, multiple rounds, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

✩ dilf!gojo . . .

. . . who, when you were pregnant, could never get enough of your glow. sure, you’d look tired and worn out half the time but gojo thought you never looked better cradling your belly whilst you took your afternoon nap, or when you’d do some light chores around the house (you won over gojo trying to stop you). not to mention, your breasts were fuller and heavier with milk, soaking through your slip dresses often that he’s had to hide his hard-on more and more.

. . . who, on more than one occasion has had your tits caged within his hand: watching television, in naps, sex, he was unbelievably obsessed with the way the fabric around your nipples would leak and darken in colour. all he wanted was to knead them as he eats up your delicious moans, sucking hickies into your throat and holding your baby bump with his other hand. and then when satoru first peels the dress off of you, he whimpers, admiring the way your tits lactate and leak milk from its tip.

“s—satoru—” you’re sat sideways on his lap like the sweet girl you are and the first contact of his tongue around your nipple makes you let out a long moan. the sensitivity is all too much for you together with the heaviness of your belly and your hormones spiking and your husband simply smiles into your skin. he slurps at the liquid that drips from your tits, groaning into your breasts and the vibrations makes you clench your thighs together. it doesn’t go unnoticed by him when he’s got his hand between them, playing lazily with your clit and he presses a little harshly into your bundle of nerves and it draws such a beautiful cry and a spurt of your milk from your nipples right into his mouth. satoru cleans up well, noises similar to when he’d eat you out, “mmh… such perfect tits, mama, leaking so much milk just f’r me.” ✩

. . . whose hands look more rugged than he was young, fingertips a certain roughness to it from the boxes of the furniture of the nursery he’s carried to the training he still partakes in for young sorcerers. but they look especially pretty when he cuts up strawberries and bananas for your pancakes and later on, a teacup that barely makes its appearance in his hand from just how large he was in comparison to your baby girl’s tea set. your eyes also like to trail his hands as they skillfully weave your girl’s hair in a braid, hypnotised in which he uses his teeth to drag the hair tie to his fingers. satoru has a different opinion — he likes to see it on your belly when he wants to feel the baby kick and on your plush thighs when he’s teasing you, so close yet so far to your uncomfortable cunt.

. . . who uses your badly shaven job against you when his lips graze along your still full breasts and down to your torso. you can feel him drag the stubble against your inner thighs and it’s like he’s relishing in the way you squirm and thrash around on the bed, but the gojo below you is the culmination of multiple years of missions and caring for a baby girl. he looks so damn stunning between your legs as he usually does, except his features are more wrinkly and lenient and gentle, white strands turning just a little silver — it may just be the trick of the light.

but the way he eats you out has never changed — he’s already gone past making you beg for it. a hand on your inner thighs, caressing the skin and letting him do his damage, but it’s usually not long that gojo needs to hear you. “i heard you like this?” he laughs as he uses his teeth to pull at your underwear as he lifts your hips like you weigh nothing and his eyes are fixated on the way you’re leaking so much that there’s a string of arousal that connects your panties to your pussy. “’toru . .” you’re whining, grasping at nothing ’cause your belly was just too big. he finds your hand easily and twines your fingers. “yeah, angel?” with your legs propped up, he can appreciate the glory of your soaking pussy, and he thinks your tummy just looks divine, carrying a whole new life within it and still looking beautiful as ever. you preen when his mouth licks a stripe up your cunt and you can practically feel the stubble along your pussy lips. “mmh— was made to eat your pussy out, mama.” it’s no different from before. gojo eats you out with his skillful tongue, lapping at your folds and clit messily. you’re squeezing his hands at the intense sensations and he squeezes right back, other hand slowly drawing circles around your clenching, needy hole.

“look at ‘er,” gojo moans softly in awe as his finger parts your folds and he eases it in, your cunt automatically clamping down. you were right — they did feel rougher, bigger — it’s like you can feel the pads of his fingers and the lines on his digits. “so damn wettt . .” gradually he adds another and starts pumping them, moaning alongside you as your filthy husband nuzzles the bottom of his face into your sex and the prickle of his facial hair is so prominent — you just have to grind your hips onto his face. “careful of the baby, darling.” he lightly warns, fairly muffled, but he lets his little wife continue whatever she’s doing. “’toru, ’toru— needa c-cum . .” you’re whimpering, looking like a greek goddess as you’re dripping, dripping, all over satoru’s chin. “yeah? give it to daddy, baby, c’mon.” he moans into your clit, slurping up your juices mercilessly as his fingers reach so deep in you. “that’s right, that’s my girl— oooh fuckk . . . so much cum for me—” you’re cumming with a loud cry, plump thighs squeezing his head and he only presses his tongue deeper into your core as flood his tongue with your juices. he smacks his lips together and shoots you a smirk, “what a sweet thing my lil wife is — sweetest pussy too.” ✩

. . . who has to fuck you at least once while you’re pregnant, but he hadn’t imagined he would get so addicted to the look of your body rocking back and forth, so limp and pliant for him, especially with how he could easily do anything to you with how strong he was and yet you’re surrending everything up to him. satoru who has you in all sorts of positions where he can look at your supple breasts bounce as you cradle the baby in anxiety with one arm and the other is lining his back in red. and he hadn’t expected you’d be so horny too.

. . . whose dick you just can’t get enough of, pouncing on him once he’s gotten home from missions all sweaty and out of breath and your heart gets caught in your throat. guiding your hand to your little cunt when you wake in the morning to his toned chest and the look of soon-to-be-father looking so good on him. sending him little voice notes as you go on appointments by yourself (gojo hates himself for having a mission clash), but the contrast of your husband’s tear-filled apology before your needy audios is a stark contrast, fingers rubbing at your clit in the hospital toilet, unsatisfied. high-pitched whines whenever his cock would kiss your cervix juuust right and moaning how you want his cum in you, again

your husband throws his head back when he first sinks into you, but not before he slaps his cock along your folds, already soaking the sheets from the four times he’s made you cum. “f—fuck, so warm in here, baby.” gojo presses your hands to his lips and lays multiple kisses along it, even licking at your fingers and keeping his eyes locked on you while plunging them into your mouth. the gesture is sensual, hips rocking into you while his tongue glides over your fingers; he brings it to your clit after, helping you and satoru hopes he wouldn’t cum too early. especially when your hair is all splayed out with that glow along your cheeks. the position accentuate the curves of your body and your swelling stomach, and fuck, if he could paint, the image of your anatomy would be burned into his brain. “s’full, daddy.” he simply caresses your sore belly, “yeah? is it now?” he’s buried all the way to the hilt and the deepness sends a chill up your spine, “takin’ me like the good girl you are.”

“satoru, satoru, mmhhfuck,” your hands are holding into his forearms so tightly as he rocks into you, legs wrapped around his waist to trap him with your pussy and you truly wish your baby bump would be bigger so you didn’t have to look at your husband’s fucked out face and sweaty locks, grunts leaving his mouth as he continues to fuck into you with firm, solid thrusts. “w-what is it, sweeth— s-shit, this pussy’s too fuckin’ good.” you mewl at the words, staring up at him through hooded lids and a lax jaw. “tell me what— fuucck— you want, baby,” your words are beyond comprehensible, so you only can moan louder and babble over and over again, “cum— wan’ your cum, wan’ your cum, ’toru!” and gojo has a full blown aneurysm at the way you beg even when you were already knocked up. gojo’s breath and hips stutter at the way you hold onto his arm and plead, cumming straight into the warmth of your cunt with a loud groan. “don’t know how much i love your cunt, sweets.” ✩

. . . who, once you give birth to your baby girl, has never stopped thirsting over you, but he’s a little more considerate in letting your body rest. most of the time he’s pleasuring you just as you were with your baby bump, always the quickest to stand up and run to the nursery when he’d hear the baby’s cries or pass off him being between your legs as just wrestling as your darling girl gets another terrible nightmare. satoru has put you first, always, but lately the chivalrous acts that he’s been doing is landing you in a position of a dilemma — between decorum of a mother and the filthiness of a wife whose husband is just too hot.

. . . who stands out to you more with his new found love for tight black shirts and low riding sweatpants, always prancing around the penthouse with it glued to his body and accentuates just the best parts of his body. you weren’t sure if it was the post pregnancy hormones doing its job or whatever, but there are many times where you can see yourself staring a little too much: on movie nights when he manspreads and adjust his hips, one hand tucked behind the sofa and you can see the muscles in his arm moving. all gojo asks is “take a picture. it’ll last longer, baby,” and you just roll your eyes, but not before one more glance to his inviting lap. when it’s the morning and you’re already up tending to the baby, bouncing her around and breastfeeding her before your head snaps to the low, raspy greeting and you’re blessed with satoru and his arm up on the doorframe, watching you. he’s yawning and scratching at his torso while the sweatpants ride low, showing a peek of his v-line and happy trail. he’s giving you the sweetest, yet somehow sexiest smile as he saunters up to you, surrounded by his toned body and strong arms.

. . . who knows what he’s doing when he sees your distracted stares to the point your baby girl has to drag your hand full of food to her mouth; or in times of sleepiness in the dawn where all he wears are boxers and he has the gift of hearing your not so quiet gasp when you see him emerge from the bathroom after his morning skincare. what really seals the deal though, is the day you had a reunion with the students of jujutsu high, a nice little picnic out near tokiwa bridge and gojo just had to show his girls off — what was meant to be a wholesome day turned into thoughts of your husband’s physique as he challenges nanami to a “carry-off”, the still stoic sorcerer not even bothering to participate as gojo swoops you both into his arms. your daughter on his right and you on his left, and you’re scrambling to grab his shoulder. it sinks into you like an anchor: just how fit he was, the lines of his tense arm, the cheeky wink he sends to you while you’re up there. you only hope he can’t feel your pussy throb from that.

“you alright, darling?” your baby’s asleep comfortably on your chest, and your eyes can only burn holes into the hand that’s resting on your thigh, swallowing before facing your husband who only seemed to get hotter the more he ages. when you turn to him he’s already looking at you, a lopsided smile on his face before he breaks eye contact and steps on the gas when the traffic light turns green, letting out a loaded exhale when you grab his hand and twine your fingers.

that two person carry has been etched onto your mind long after you’ve reached the penthouse along with everything that’s been going on, but you’re interrupted when satoru squeezes your hand, pulling you into his embrace while keeping your darling girl asleep. he’s skilled at that, as he is with his lips, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. you can feel your stomach turn with anticipation, tasting his gloss as he whispers “should we order takeout tonight?”

you hum, “i can cook, ’toru.”

his hands feel hot on your waist, “rest today, baby. we did spend a whole day in the hot sun,” they draw circles on your lower back, “plus, we have that event tomorrow, don’t wanna tire you out.”

“the event’s at night you goof,” you laugh, a slow hand stroking your daughter’s hair. stark white and striking as always.

“still.” he grins and winks like there’s some ulterior motive, leaning in to kiss you again before your girl rouses and yawns.

“good morning, my love.” satoru coos as she finds her bearings, looking around in confusion and only being able to focus on her father’s hand on her hair.

“na-na-min?” the awkward plea in her voice would drive gojo to burn the world down, to call nanami right now to meet up again, but he knows all that would only warrant annoyance. he could call yuji, but he did mention something about having dinner with his partner tonight.

gojo feels bad to be breaking her heart like this, “no, darling, ’m sorry.” his heart breaks even more when she breaks into a slight cry and he attempts to quell her sobs by baby-talking her.

“c’mon, why don’t you let papa carry you, and mama can head off to take care of herself, hm?” he suggests with a big grin, mood changing instantly as he plucks her out of your arms, again emphasising his strong arms when they hold her on one side and curl another around you. “go clean up first. i’ll settle dinner for her.”

but the shower seemed to be a bad idea at the time, emerging from the steamy bathroom to see your husband with his shirt off and the baby already all cleaned up and fed. she was swaddled in her most comfortable blanket, the fabric of it peeping out from the side as your eyes focus on the rippling muscles of gojo’s back. he bounces the baby gently as he burps her, muttering little praises and sounds.

“oh, baby—” he catches sight of you in the doorway in a towel and he only smiles, not knowing how you were trying to digest just how broad his shoulders were and how small his waist was. had he always been so fine?

“heard about skin to skin contact with your baby,” he whispers, “says it increases our bond.”

and if you could, you’d drag him back to the chapel all over again to renew your vows, because you didn’t expect him to be such a sap. you also didn’t expect him to read you so well. the baby’s asleep and it’s well past midnight, masking yet another shaky sigh when your body sinks more into his side.

“satoru—”

“yeeess . .?” 

you stand up with vigour you didn’t think you have, plopping yourself down onto his lap and all he does is smile slyly. the way his bare body moves as he leans back is enough drive for you to shut him up.

“haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“oh? you have a crush on me?”

so infuriating as always. you roll your eyes and grind down on him, igniting such a familiar and archaic feeling that you haven’t felt in a long time: his bulge against you, the soft groan he lets out. he’s always been treating you time and time, and yet he puts his own needs on hold. a perfect husband like him waited only for you to initiate things, and yet you wonder why it took you so long. maybe it was the baby taking up most of your time, maybe it was him being on missions and coming home dead-beat tired.

maybe you knew you’d never turn back if you indulged yourself — pushing out a whole baby wasn’t exactly easy. but you’ve missed him. on you, in you.

“we’re married, you dumbass.”

“still in disbelief, my bad.” gojo laughs, “is there anything you wanna tell me?”

you sigh, pulling him to you so your foreheads would touch. you breathe onto his lips — “please take care of me.”

oh, gojo satoru did take care of you and more, burying his face between your legs and making you cum over and over. he made your voice hoarse and your thighs ache, juices soaking the sheets from just how wet you were.

“oh, you needed this, huh?”

“shut up.” gojo moans when you push him back onto your cunt, already having orgasmed thrice just from his tongue. he was skillful and he knew it, just as much as he knew just how tight you’d be when he smeared your cum all over your pussy and pushed past your folds. satoru whines at the tightness, at having missed your cunt wrapped around him for so long that he can tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

“f—fuck . . so fuckin’ good, s’tight . .” you’re not that well off, either, thinking the shower was a waste of water as your sweaty stomach heaved in anticipation while he bottomed out. gojo cries out in a choked moan, “you feel so g—good, mama.”

“w-who’s needing it now?” you breathe out, fingers digging into his shoulders so harshly it hurt. you catch a glimpse of satoru’s smile and a shake of his head — you’d need to be carried tomorrow, for sure.

he pulls out and slams back in so accurately you let out a loud moan, insides turning to mush after so long. the feel of him filling you up is like none other, pussy gripping onto him like a vice. you can’t remember the last time you let him take you.

“so p-perfect for me—” gojo rasps out, looking at you drunkenly. the mother of his child, his wife, it weighs on him and he just thinks he needs to fuck you until you know how much joy you bring to his life. your body rocks as your lover fucks into you, hovering over your body and looking so ethereal. his hair falls into his eyes that you just have to pull him down, crashing your lips against his. the moans he lets out against your face is lovely and you can feel his cock twitch as your legs wrap around his waist.

“‘toru— shiiitt . .” your back arches off of the bed, body caving into satoru like second nature. he lets out babbles against your lips, room filled with the sounds of his balls slamming into your ass, coupled with your weeping pussy, coating his length with all that you can give to him. “so deep—”

“that’s ’cause you’re suckin’ me in, baby—” he laughs breathlessly, cutting off your answer with another kiss, feeling the brush of pelvic bone against your clit. it’s all you need to cum hard, still sensitive after so long and your pussy clenches around gojo’s shaft even tighter; it gets gojo whining into the kiss before he reaches his high too, spilling into you with wide eyes and stuttering hips. you moan at the sensation, eyes pleading your husband for more, more, more. 

“forgot how much i loved doing that, f-fuck—” gojo hums as he removes your legs from his waist, pushing you into a deep mating press and you squeal when you feel his cock barely hit your g-spot in this new position, “yeah? ya feel that?”

you nod mindlessly, hands now holding onto his forearms before his hips start moving again and you’re left to whining like a slut. your thighs dig into your chest as gojo folds your body in half, rutting into you messily. there’s so much cum, mixed in filthily as your words only descend into incoherence.

“yes, yes, yes!” are all you can manage as gojo grunts from above you: his stubble, his broad shoulders, his matured face, they all look beautiful in the cold night. he’s so focused on the way your cunt sucks him in, hips stammering when your hand comes into view to rub your clit. “give it all t’me, daddy.”

there’s a small growl that leaves his lips at that, pace reaching an animalistic one as he angles his hips. “open y’mouth.” 

satoru is driven crazy when you obey silently, and he has to push deeper into you to reach your mouth, making you falter and pull your brows together — you recover fast enough to catch the spit hanging from his mouth, dribbling slowly into your mouth even when gojo’s hips never stop their assault.

“attagirl,” he praises, smiling softly at the way your pussy twitched at that. he knows you’re close by the look in your eyes, grasping aimlessly at his shoulders. 

“gonna let me cum in you again? hm?” gojo’s thrusts are sloppy now, fuelled by the squelch of your drooling cunt, “gonna let daddy put another baby in you?”

you mewl at that, “wan’ that— want all of it—” intoxicated on his cock, they hit the deepest parts of you; you know and love the way his tip hits your sweet spot, you know and love the way the shaved pubes of his pelvis brush up against your clit so well.

“take it then—” gojo grunts, holding your legs up and meets your eyes and the simple call of his name has him shivering. he cums deep, shooting his load so white and hot in you that you’re moaning loudly at the feeling, hand on your clit increasing in pace before your fifth for the night, legs trembling in his grip and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. 

gojo thinks you’re god. “that’s it— shit, take all of my cum, mama.” you can barely see blue, rather seeing spots of white that fill your vision and you get dizzy and overstimulated, groaning finally when he removes his cock from you. so much cum spills out, pussy pushing it out and satoru bites his lips at the sight.

but you both know you’re far from done when gojo lies on his back, ulterior motive fulfilled when he sees you climb on top of him and drag your pussy along the base of his dick. with you like this, stretch marks and plumpier breasts, you still look as beautiful as you did before the baby, letting you interlock your fingers with his. 

your mouth falls open in a soft “satoru” as you sink down onto his still hard, leaking cock and he never wants to look at anyone else ever again, lest he misses even one second of witnessing a goddess like you at work.

gojo cannot resist sitting up to meet you halfway in a soft kiss (“thank you, ’toru. you always take care of me so well.”) and it gives him all the confirmation he needs when your hips first move and the moans and the lewd sounds of your cunt sound more heavenly than all the choirs in the world.

“it’s what you deserve, baby. only the best.”

‘𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬’

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: everything the reader has consented to ahead of time! pure smut, monster fucking, role played breaking & entering, kidnapping (moving to a secondary location), masked ‘unknown’ robbers, established relationship with satoru, planned kinky event, knife play, blood, marking, name branding, biting, toys, hunting/chasing, some fear play, drugging, manhandling, blindfolding akak bag on head, some light bondage, begging, heavy degradation/some praise/taunting/teasing, dumbification/mind break, light cervix fucking, double dick!suguru, double dick!satoru, light semi-public nudity - you're carried to the car naked in the middle of the night (not caught), reader quickly loses all shame and just wants to be pounded and passed around, triple stuffing reader's cunt, anal, anal fingering, some anal prep, suguru has his tongue pierced, reader gets turned into a succubus, pussy slapping, they are mean but kind of sweet at times, one face slap

𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 20 minutes - 5.7k

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: anything fucked up with geto, gojo, toji shiu?

A loud bang and the glass of your balcony door shattering jolts you awake. You barely have time to register how it happened a muscular masked man is pinning you to your bed, holding a knife to your neck. "Caught ya." Your heart pounds as he glides the knife’s tip to your collarbones. There's a cunt soaking thrill to the cool knife's sharp edge.

He croons, "Your little heart is beatin’ so loudly doll, ya scared?” He's massive, weighing heavily on your thighs.

Fighting the urge to writhe when he drags the blade across. Increasing the pressure till your skin splits and a bit of blood beads up along the wound. You're moaning, it's whiny and needy.

Grabbing his wrist, digging your nails in. His gaze drops to your lips. "Sounds like ya enjoyed that, moan like that again n' you'll get my cock hard." Trailing the knife up, towards your neck, tilting your head back into your puffy pillow.

The stinging pain is going straight to your cunt, making her tingle. You're barely able to shift your hips, or even close them. Keeping them spread apart, his clothed cockhead rubbing your clit.

He pulls his mask up, groaning. Your cunt clenches from the obscene deep sound. The moonlight shining through the broken window illumines a beautiful, scarred smirk. Your eyes widen as four sharp fangs emerge, stretching to their full length.

You want him to bite you. He lifts your short nightgown with the knife's tip. “Aw I found a pretty dirty slut." Stopping beneath your breasts, giving you a short, shallow cut. "N' here I thought I was just gonna get some dinner then leave." He grinds his hips, rubbing your bare puff clit with his cock. "You're sweet ass has dessert for me."

His thin sweatpants barely separate his cock from your cunt. He's warm and thick. Rolling his hips, gliding his cock head along your slit. Biting your lip, holding back a moan. Fantasizing about how deep his fat cock could split you open.

He moans, "Lemme hear your pretty moans, don't be shy now when you're creamin' yourself over me.” Licking your wound, his tongue unnaturally cold. You shiver, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer. Whimpering, lightly grinding your soaking cunt on his thick, hard cock. His weight on your thighs keeps you from freely moving.

Grazing your neck with the sharp tip of his fangs. Tilting your head to the side, eager for him to bite. "You're too easy, want me that badly already." Roughly biting down, his four fangs in your neck shouldn't feel so good.

Spreading your fingers, groping his hard pec. Digging in your nails, he whines roughly grinding his hips. Sliding your hand down his washboard abs, he flexes, the lines defining his abs deepening. "Beg n' I'll let you have my fat cock after I drink my fill." Leaning back, shifting to straddle your hips. Letting you grind your hips better.

Another man states, "Can smell her dripping wet cunt downstairs." The man turns on the overhead light, walking over to stand at the side of your bed. Your body flushes with heat at how you're found. Grinding your bare cunt on a masked intruder's clothed cock. With your nightgown halfway pulled up.

The white masked man croons, "Poor horny little slut, so desperate for some cock. Is Toji teasing you too much?" Toji holding the knife to your neck doesn't stop you from turning your head to look at the second intruder.

Admiring their sculpted, muscular pale chest, and beautiful v-line leaning into his dark gym shorts. His cock is hard, standing up straight, his gym shorts straining over his head. Fondling his cock, moaning, his veiny hands inked up to his mid-forearms. With an ancient language, you've seen pictures of inscribed stone stabs in history books.

He yanks your dress up over your breast. Toji dips his head. Sinking his fangs into your breast, flicking your nipple with a cold tongue. Groaning when your warm blood trickles into his mouth.

Grabbing a fistful of his dark hair, pressing your thighs together. Grinding your sloppy wet cunt, his cock head catches on your tight hole. At this angle, his thick cock head won't slip it. Whining, twisting your hips, reaching out to jerk the second masked intruder.

He steps out of your reach, slipping his gym shorts down. His cock pops out, standing up, long, pale, and veiny. Toji moves the knife, holding it next to your fast. Switching to your other breast, biting next to your nipple. Which he pinches to hear you whine.

When the other beautiful man comes closer you smear his pre-cum with a swirl of your thumb. You can feel his quick heartbeat in his puffy veins when you firmly squeeze his cock.

A third man gloats, "Told you she'd be a freaky slut." Standing on the other side of the bed. His long dark hair is in a messy bun. He looks down at you with condescending dark eyes making your body hot and your cunt wet.

Sneering, "Already she's grinding her needy cunt on his cock, when we just busted in." He takes the knife from Toji, who grabs his cock swiping your clit with his head. Tugging his hair, he pulls away, blood trickling from the corner of his lips.

Gathering your blood on your thumb, holding it to Toji's lips for him to lick clean. "Satoru she's not even questioning what we are, why we are here. What we are going to do with her." Toji slips your finger out of his mouth, leaning back. Stilling his hips, leaving his hard, veiny cock pressed to your soaking wet cunt, clenching.

Satoru croons, "Pretty pathetic little slut." Your cunt clenches around nothing when he lets out a breathy, needy whine. Jerking his hips, swirling your hand, pumping your hand faster. Swiping your fingers over his sensitive pale pink head.

Questioning them, "What of it?" The third man slides the knife beneath your chin, adding pressure. Roughly swallowing, biting back your attitude. "I'll be good, don't care what you are, we'll figure out how to put something in somewhere." Satoru snickers, sliding his cock out of your hand.

He tugs his shorts up and unfolds a dark cloth bag from his pocket. Toji grabs your wrists, quickly binding them together with rough rope. He moves to the side, yanking your body up by your bound wrists.

The bag is swiftly placed over your head, tightening it around your neck. Ripping an airhole for your nose and mouth. Nudging your lips, you open your mouth for someone's long thick fingers. Swirling your tongue around them till they glide them out.

Toji rips through your sleepwear grumbling, "Fuck your shitty nightgown." Roughly yanking you off the bed. Unexpecting the sudden tug and unable to see you stumble on your feet. Getting yourself thrown over a shoulder, and a rough smack on the ass.

Jerking, whining, "Harder! Please! I'm beggin' for it, want you to make my ass sore." Earning a painful, sharp smack, your cunt flutters. You're aching for more sweet stinging pain as it settles to a warm ache. You can make out the shape of his hand.

Carrying you down the stairs, turning towards the right. They are taking you towards the front door. You'll be outside naked and bound with a bag over your head. You're too horny to be embarrassed. Reasoning it's too late for anyone to be out.

Toji swears, "Damn Satoru you did a number on this door. Don't think any is left on the frame." Thinking twice about protesting over your apparently busted front door. Due to the precarious poition you in with these three men.

Shivering in the cool night air, you hear a car door open.

Satoru reasons, "It shouldn't have looked ugly." The car softly purrs, coming to life. Another car door, he slips you off their shoulder, roughly shoving you into the car. Like you're an object they're storing in the back.

Your face plants into the cold leather. Shifting in the seat, momentarily struggling with your hands to sit upright. When one grabs you by the bag on your head, tugging you up right. The ties keeping it secured on your head dig into your neck until he lets go.

Begging whoever, "Lemme choke on your cock." You hear them shifting in their seat. He pushes your head down moments later. A thick warm cock head nudging your lips. Opening your mouth, groaning around his head, swirling your tongue.

Laying your tongue flat, taking his fat head, thicker head than the one previously in your hand. Toji momentarily holds your head down, gagging you. You'd fondle his balls if your wrists weren't tied.

You hear the soft pulsing of a toy. Eager for Satoru to play with your soaking wet cunt you put your ass up in the air. Satoru spreads your lips with his fingers. "Dirty slut doesn't even care where she's bein' takin." Gliding a thin, pulsing dildo into your cunt. Its head is a small tip, gradually thickening.

Moaning around Toji's cock, clenching the toy. Its soft bumps on the bottom stroking your sweet spot. Satoru groans, "Suguru can we keep her? She has her pretty little glory holes in my face " He pumps the toy faster, purposefully angling it down. Ensuring to stroke your sweet spot to make your cunt fluster.

Trembling, folding your arms, propping yourself up on your bound clasped fists. Bobbing your head faster on Toji's cock. Suguru decides, "You'll have to turn her, vampire or incubus doesn't matter, otherwise you'll break her before the sun rises." You hear the car rev as he speeds up.

Satoru grabs your ass, digging in his nails, biting your other cheek. Toji's cock muffles your whine, he holds your head down. Forcing you to take every inch, burying his cock deep in your throat. Your eyes water, jaw aching from stretching so wide to take him.

Gliding his cock out, roughly breathing. Toji questions, "Whatya say, wanna be our pretty cock sleeve succubus live on taking our cum. Think it's fittin' with how quickly you started groping my tits n' grinding your sloppy cunt on my cock." He rips the hole in the bag wider, spitting on your lips.

Licking your lips clean, pleading with them, "Turn me into a pretty cock sucker you can keep around to stuff full of cum." Satoru pulls you onto his lap, the inhuman dildo pulsing in your cunt. Sitting in his lap keeping the toy stuffed in deep.

Your cunt spasming, clenching the toy. Satoru yanks your head back by the bag on your head. Biting underneath your collarbone, his fangs are shorter than Toji's. With only two on top, the sharp pain becomes a sweet tingle.

Your body becomes hotter, and the intensity of the heat concentrates between your legs. Soaking Satoru's gym shorts, rocking your hips, shifting the pulsing toy in your needy cunt. Pulling away, licking the drops of blood welling up from the small inflictions.

You moan, unable to think of anything as you're overcome by incomprehensible horniness. "Nng!" Satoru moves you to straddle his hips. Yanking you by your neck, arching your back, biting your breast by Toji's previous.

Crying from the short-lived searing pain, then an intense wave of pleasure akin to cumming has you trembling. "Aren't you giving her too much, don't wanna kill her before we have our fun." Satoru grabs the dildo, fucking your sloppy wet cunt,

Giving you a couple pumps before your overly sensitive cunt gushes. Soaking through Satoru's gym shorts. He groans, licking the wound, scraping your nipple with his fang, Biting beneath, injecting you with more venom.

Your eyes roll back, and your body quivers. You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt. Your slick trickling down your thighs. Satoru fucks your sloppy, sensitive cunt with the dildo faster. Licking up to your clit, suckling and groaning.

Pulling away with a pop, "She can take it like she's gonna take both my cocks." Satoru ribs the bag off your head, roughly kissing you. Slipping his tongue into your mouth when you moan. He tastes of blood and strawberry lollipops.

Suguru roughly pulls the car off the road, parking it. "Out. I'm not listening to both of you have fun while I get blue balls." Satoru pulls away, gliding the dildo out. Turning it off, holding it up your lips, ignoring Suguru's demand to get out of the car.

Licking it clean, wrapping your lips, gliding it deep into your mouth. Pumping past your lips, groaning, "You pretty lips are gonna look good wrapping around my cock." He slides it out of your mouth with a soft pop.

You hear two doors slam shut one after another, leaving Satoru and you in the car. He cradles your head, it's spinning. Resting your head in his large hand, your cunt drooling on his lap. Clenching around nothing, you want to cum again despite squirting.

Satoru urges you, "That warmth," another gentle kiss, "The horniness don't fight it. Let it take over, you can be my beautiful greedy little cock whore for centuries." He trails kisses along your neck.

Slowly sinking his fangs in, jolting, whining from another injection. Placing your bound wrists on his thick pecs. Wishing you could run your fingers through his soft-looking snow-white hair.

"Wanna be your favorite cocksleeve." Your gums momentarily ache, your teeth making room for a pair of sprouting fangs. Satoru pulls away, pushing your top lip up with his thumb, crooning, "Aw already getting fangs." He drops his hands to the rope around your wrist.

Without thinking you lurch forward, biting into Satoru's neck. The car door opens, and Toji sneers, "Some kidnapper you are, clinging to her while she sinkin' her fangs into ya neck." Satoru groans, holding the back of your head, fondling your squishy ass cheek.

He groans, "Nn harder." Biting his thick pec with the possessive intent of marking him. "Is it really kidnapping when the slut would've walked out the door with us if not for the bag on her head." Satoru's blood is sweet, filling your mouth. You should be repulsed but can't help but drink another mouthful.

Three men bust in shirtless, with beautifully muscular bodies and within seconds you were thinking with your needy cunt. He wasn't wrong. You'd happily let them carry you off to wherever and keep you for however long if you got your cunt pounded by them.

"Bet she wouldn't but still, she was only meant to pretty blood bag. N' we couldn't risk our pretty dinner knowing where she's at." Toji grabs your hair, pulling you off Satoru. His blood trickles down his chest, following the middle groove of his abs.

Smiling in a lustful daze, "She's too beautiful to let go." Thick black horns sprout from his head, contrasting his bright hair. They twist in a loop, pointing back. His features sharpen, eyes glowing similar to his tattoo. Which spreads up his arms, onto his pecs.

Toji pulls you back for Satoru to step out of the car, shutting the door behind himself. "We both bite each other, that means once I fill her sloppy cunt full of cum, I'll be hers'." The large pale moon in the skin illuminates Satoru's beautiful blushing face.

His smile is breathtaking, this beautiful incubus will be yours. You could taste his lust vanilla and honey. Toji lets go of your hair, dropping on your knees in front of Satoru. Looking up at him, pleading "I want to make you mine n' cum on your cocks. Wanna be yours." Satoru pushes his wet shorts down. He has two beautiful long, pale cocks, both of them standing up.

Suguru pulls you to your fist, slicing the rope, and freeing your hands. "I told Shiu we are hunting the slut we found." Twisting you around to face the spare woods. "By the time she finishes her head start he'll be here." Harshly slapping your ass, making you stumble forward. Leafs crunch beneath your feet.

The initial intense haze of the venom first affects level out. Helping you to latch onto their words with better clarity than before. Which your cunt throbbing with an unbearable neediness infringes upon.

You need to cum, it's borderline painful to not have one of them playing with your cunt. Slipping your fingers between your legs, rubbing your clit. Clenching your thighs together. Moaning, "Whoever gets me first decides who gets to go when! Don't make me wait too long!" Missing the stimulation, the second you stop touching yourself.

Darting into the woods, the trees pass you quicker than they should. You've seen bright full moons in the past, but this was unlike anything else. You could see the bark, moss, rocks, and branches clearly. Acutely feeling the leaves crunching and the damp earth.

Pushing yourself to run faster when you hear a thunderous crack of a tree splitting in two. It doesn't hit the ground until a few minutes later, knocking over several more trees.

Were they fighting each other to get to you? They might not be beyond throwing a few punches towards each other. At any moment one of them could show up, pin you to the tree and do what the wished. Whilst you'll beg them for more.

Struggling to stop, kicking up some dirt. Standing in front of you is a handsome man with a scruffy face, holding a cigarette. "So you're the pretty little thing we're playin' with. Shame to end the game now, run." Taking a step back, the wind picks up carrying the subtle scent of his lust.

It's similar to a bittersweet mixture of dark and milk chocolate, with a hint of sweet caramel. He's mouth-watering, his must be Shiu. He's making no move to catch you, admiring you in the moon light taking a puff off his cig.

"Run." His demand reminds you at any moment the other three could catch up. Taking off running past him, biting into your bottom lip. Hoping one of them would catch you soon and use your mouth and cunt.

Breaking out of the tree line into a wide clearing of tall yellow flowers. A cabin lies on the other side of a large glittering lake. Toji stands in the field's center, waiting for you. Taking off towards the right, the back of your neck tingles when he's about to grab it. Trusting your instinct and ducking, scrambling out of his reach.

Looking over your shoulder, Toji's still close, about to catch you. When you run into Satoru, who appears in front of you within seconds. Wrapping his arms around your waist, flapping white feathery wings. Flying out of Toji's reach.

"I win! Haha HA!" His pupils are wide. He's high off your previous bites. Your venom coursing through his muscular body. "You smell so fuckin' sweet." He grabs your hair, pulling your head to the side. "Your neck looks prettier covered in bitemarks." Whining from the sweet pain of Satoru puncturing Toji's bite.

Grabbing a handful of his soft white hair. Wrapping your legs around his waist. Digging your nails into his back between his wings. Grazing the base of his left wing. He whines, his wings shuttering, the two of you slightly dropping before he steadies himself.

Landing on his feet, pinning you to the closest tree. Pulling away from your neck, licking up the blood. "I can't go much longer without feeling her tight, sloppy wet cunt clenching my cocks together. Sug can help me break her before Shiu and your ass as a chance." Squeezing your neck with his long, thin fingers, tugging on your thigh.

Unwrapping your legs, and standing up, he pulls you away from the tree. Pinning you to Suguru's chest, he massages both your cheeks. His fingers getting closer to your sloppy cunt.

Toji points out, "Look at her, she'll still be begging for more after the two of you. Don't think you can satisfy a greedy whore like her when she's turning." Gliding your hand along Satoru's hard sculpted side. Trailing your fingers along his abs, grabbing one of his cocks.

Smearing his pre-cum by slowly swirling your thumb. He is dripping so much, swirling your hand halfway down his cock. "Please stuff my cunt, fingers, tongue or cock don't care. Need someone to play with my cunt it hurts." Suguru's thick fingers are so close to your puffy lips.

Shifting your hips, Suguru pulls his fingers away, lightly massaging your cheek. Satoru glides his cock out of your hands. "Play with my cunt it hurts, poor little slut." He smacks your cunt, twisting your hips back. "How this?" Suguru tightens his grasp making you take five punishing wet slaps.

Trembling, knee buckling, your clit and lips stinging, cunt quivering. Your eyes water, "Please, that's not what I meant." Satoru mockingly frowns. Grabbing both cocks, matching the pace of your hands. Swirling your hand around his pale pink tip, smearing his pre-smear along his long veiny cock.

"But you said you didn't care." Pinching your cheeks. "What's wrong?" Suguru kneels behind you, biting your squishy cheek. You cry, jerking your hips forward. Satoru pinches your clit, and you shove his chest, forcing him to stumble back, smirking.

Suguru chimes, "Whore is getting some feist to her!" Satoru grabs your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to look up at him. Satoru roughly slaps you across the face, kissing your aching cheek.

You hear the slick sound of Toji stroking his cock. You can taste his lust. Shiu states, "Bet she'd be able to take it harder than our normal slut." Your soaking wet cunt clenches from his breathy groan.

Toji bemoans, "It's tirin' havin' to hold back 'cause a bitch can't handle how hard I'm fuckin' her." Suguru pulls you onto his beautiful face by your hips. Steadily stroking your puffy clit, grinding your hips, moaning. Getting off on the pressure of Suguru's barbell swiping over your clit.

Suguru smears his thick spit on your asshole. Dipping his finger in, curling it, lubing up your other hole. Flicking your clit, faster with your tongue. Satoru watches in admiration as your beautiful face contorts with an expression of pleasure.

Loudly moaning, "Thank you! Please let me cum again, his tongue feels so good." Suguru glides another finger in, stretching your other hole apart. "Nnn his stretching my ass. We don't have lube! Nn fuck it feels so good thouuuugh don't!" Fucking your ass faster with both his thick fingers.

Keeping his barbell stroking your clit just right. The pressure is too perfect, trembling, rocking your hips. Suguru squeezes your hips, keeping you still. Begging, "Don't stop, faster, please!" His spit is thicker than a normal human, making your other hole and your clit tingle with intense pleasure.

Satoru fondles your breasts, pinching your nipples. Tugging when you cry, arching your chest into his hand, he twists. "Don't worry, Suguru's spit is aphrodisiac-like and lubricate." Easing up on your nipples, gliding his cock out of your fist. Dipping down to kiss both nipples, sucking one into his mouth.

Soothing your aching nipple with his tongue, "Your little ass will be just fine." Suguru spreads his fingers apart, stretching your asshole. The sweet ache dulling with each pump of his finger. He groans on your clit.

Clenching Suguru's head, Shiu encourages, "Let me see you cum beautiful." Creaming on Suguru's tongue, pushing his head away. He groans, flicking his tongue faster. Whining, writhing from the intensity. You've never been this sensitive before.

"Whore moaning like she's never busted a nut before." Satoru lets your nipple go with a soft pop. Kissing the other one, when he stands up. You brace yourself on his thick pecs.

Crying when Suguru digs in his sharp claws to keep you from wiggling so much. Satoru bemuses, "Might as well feel like it, cumming while turning never stops feeling immensely pleasurable." Cupping Satoru's balls, sliding your hand over his abs, feeling him up.

He whines, "Beautiful little whore crying from cumming on his tongue." Your bitten breasts ache, the pain is sweet. His warm, soft fingers playing with your nipples, gently rubbing your nipples. You can feel each swipe in your cunt.

Suguru pulls away, adding a third finger. Whining jerking your hips away in an attempt to run from Suguru slowly finger fucking your asshole. He bites your slicked thigh so close to your cunt, his bites throb, a stinging pain shoots down your thigh, becoming a tingling numbness.

Your vision goes hazy, and your body becomes heavy. Seconds trickle by and the numbness fades. “After feigning concern over me giving her too much you drug her up like that. She’s going to break so quickly; our little whore is already so sensitive.” You can feel how deep his fangs are, how wide and sharp they are embedding into your soft thigh.

Toji croons, “Can our dumb slut speak?” Satoru grabs both wrists, looping your arms around his neck. Feebly clasping your hands, he grabs your waist holding your body up. Suguru licks your thigh with a loud groan. Pumping his fingers faster, spreading them out, stretching your asshole.

"Come on cock hungry whore tell them how your greedy cunt is aching to be stuffed full of Sug and I's cock." You can't register their words. Moaning, clenching Suguru's fingers.

Getting your ass prepped for his cock felt pleasure before. But as Suguru's venom takes into effect your ass has the sensitivity of getting your g spot fucked. When Satoru rubs your clit with his head, it is like your cumming instantly.

Your cunt spasming around nothing, slick dripping down your thigh. Immense, intoxicating pleasure consumes you. Leaving you a mindless, horny mess, wanting to cum on their cocks. Gently winding your fingers into Satoru's hair, Suguru grabs your neck with his clean hand.

Shiu bemoans, "We haven't even had a chance to fuck her stupid and she's a brain-dead slut already." Satoru slides his large hand over your hip, along your thigh. You struggle to lift your leg; he has to crouch to grab the backs of your knees.

He folds you in a mating press between his and Suguru's hard muscular chest. Helping Toji and Shiu watch him glide one of his cocks into you.

Suguru glides his fingers out of your ass, grabbing his cock, lining himself up. Groaning, watching his cock stretch your beautiful ass. You can't breathe enough to moan with Suguru's thick fingers crushing your neck.

One of Satoru's cocks is gliding along your clit. The second stretching your dripping wet, tight cunt, stroking your g-spot, hitting your cervix. Your toes curl as you cream on his cock. The lack of air makes your body tingle and adds to the mind-shattering ecstasy.

Satoru wonders, "That change makin' you that sensitive? I just put it in." Roughly fucking your sloppy wet, tight cunt. "Shiu you have a knife on you? I need to carve my initials into her beautiful tits. Mark her whore ass as mine." Shiu lets go of his thick cock, to get his knife out of his pants pockets. With his hand not coated in spit and pre-cum.

Tossing it to Satoru, who catches it without sparing a glance. He grabs one of your horns. "Did you even realize these have fully grown?" He trails his fingers up your horns to the tips, then back down to the base.

Shivering from his soft touch compared to his harsh thrust and the knife's tip trailing along your side. Suguru lets go of your neck, holding your cheek, fucking your sensitive ass faster. "Let me stuff my second cock in her other tight glory hole." Satoru pauses for Suguru to line his second cock up with your dripping cunt.

You clench both holes, loudly moaning. Suguru is thicker than Suguru's veiny cock. His head reaching just below Satoru's whose presses against your cervix with a greater pressure than before.

Satoru croons, "I think she can take another one in her greedy cunt. Her cunt won't break so quickly like she did, will it?" Satoru glides his cock out. Suguru grabs your other leg with his clean hand. Satoru holds his cocks together, lining them up. Slowly gliding them in.

You jolt, tensing up, scratching Satoru's chest. Your jaw dropping, crying your cunt stuffed too full of too many long, thick veiny cocks. The fourth on in your ass, making the thin strip of skin between both holes meaningless.

Toji groans, "Fuck dirty slut is taking so much!" Having to stop jerking his cock to keep himself from cumming before having his turn with you.

Satoru drags the knife along your aching breasts. Holding your head back by your horn. "I know you're too stupid to understand me but try your best to look me in the eyes." His too beautiful to look away from.

Dark horns poking out from his fluffy, messy white hair. Thin strands hang into his stunning glowing blue eyes. A cocky smirk on his kissable pale pink lips.

Satoru urges, "I want to see the beautiful look in your eyes when you cum on my cock." Shivering from the sharp edge of the knife on your nipple. Trapped between their broad, muscular chests, you can't squirm away.

You can taste Satoru's lust stronger than you can anyone else's. Faintly you can feel your own squishy cunt wrapping around his cock. Along with the pleasure that comes with having your soft, squishy cunt stroking his cocks.

Suguru and Satoru keep their pace even, triple stuffing your cunt. Whilst stuffing your tight ass. The pleasure is mounting with every sweet quick harsh stroke. "Nnng your lust tastes so fucking good. Only a perverted cock hungry brain-dead whore would get off on having her cunt stuffed this full." Satoru picks up his speed, with Suguru maintaining his.

Satoru's navel is rubbing your clit perfectly. Suguru groans, "Fuck dirty slut is stretched so wide yet so tight." Clenching their cocks, digging your nails into Satoru's chest.

Reaching back to slip your fingers into Suguru's silk, long dark hair. Until your reach the base of his horns. Wrapping your fingers around his sensitive horn’s base, he groans, passionate, raspy and deep.

Satoru whines, it's breathy, needy, making your cunt tingle. He croons, holding the knife to your neck. "I can feel how she's about to cum. Come on cock whore cream on ournnnng!" You're squirting before Satoru can finish. Thick, warm cum dripping down their balls.

Suguru's thick veiny cock in your ass, all three hard cocks in your sensitive cunt. You're a wreck, half their size, folded in half between them taking each thrust with a loud squelch from both holes.

"Shit I dont wanna cum this quickly!" Hot warm cum spurts from both heads. It's too much for your cunt to handle. "She feels so goddamn goooood! Cummin' so hard, nnnn fuck! fuck!" His thick cum is dripping out of your cock, making your stomach expand with a cum filled bulge.

You can feel Suguru's puffy veins pulse. "Nnn! Ahhh!" You still can't think, you're craving the addictive immense pleasure of cumming already. Their cocks pumping Satoru's cum deep into your stuffed, soaking wet cunt.

Fucking your tight ass and cum filled cunt faster. Suguru groans, "Moan louder dirty little whore! Pretty little sounds are getting me off, making my thick cocks throb." Satoru glides his overly sensitive, softening cocks out.

Satoru pushes on your stomach, and his cum spurts out like you squirting again. You're bouncing on Suguru's cock, a moaning, cock hungry mess. Clenching both holes Suguru's pace becomes sloppy. Rutting his cocks into your sloppy glory holes.

Suguru loudly groans, fucking his thick cum into your greedy cum. Quickly pulling out, letting some spurt onto your ass. They set you on your feet, and Satoru steadies you by your horn and hip.

Toji pips up, "Ready for more?" Your legs trembling, you're barely standing up. Your knees buckle and Satoru doesn't let you fall. Turning you around, pressing the night to your lower back. "I think the whore deserves a tramp stamp of my name instead." You don't have the energy to writhe when he carves a S into your back.

It's seconds without having one of them touch your cunt and your whining, "Please! Wanna cum!" Suguru smirks at you, slapping your cunt when Satoru finishes the first letter.

Pressing your thighs together, doubling over, Suguru switches out with Toji. He roughly grabs your horns, holding your head still. Lining his cock up, "Ya look starving for some cock" You wince when your fangs retract. Crying when Satoru carves an a into your lower back, Toji stuffs his cock into your mouth with a loud, deep groan.

Shiu grumbles, "Dirty fucking whore taking us all." He crouches next to you, stuffing four thick fingers into your sloppy cunt. Rubbing your clit with his thumb. He bites your outer thigh, his fangs have a slight curve to them, sinking in deep.

He groans as your blood fills his mouth, pumping his fingers fast. Finding your sweet spot, focusing on it. Pain and pleasure are becoming the same. Satoru smack your cum covered cheek. "Three more letters, and two more cocks to go." Moaning on Toji's cock, massaging his heavy balls.

Your cunt spasming around Shiu's relentless, quickly pumping fingers. Shiu doesn't bother to clean up the blood dripping down your thigh. Licking up your thigh, you slip your fingers into his short hair. "Cumming on my fingers that quickly?" Satoru quickly cuts the rest of his name into you.

Slipping his fingers in with Shiu's, matching his pace. "Once they finish with you, Sug and I are having another round. Have to test your new limits, see how much our pretty little succubus can handle." He gives your ass a rough smack and steps aside for Shiu to stand up behind you.

Gliding his fingers out of your cunt, grabbing your hips. Smearing your slick on his thick, veiny cock, lining himself up. Roughly slamming his cock into you, splitting your cunt open with no warning. "Perfect fuckin' glory hole you'd think she'd break after that but she's too tight 'round my cock." Toji groans gagging you with his cock, getting off on your neck squeezing his fat cock.

"I'm too big for her little throat. It almost hurts how she grippin' me. But it feels so good, sluts don't need to breathe right?" He shallowly pumps his hips, refusing to let you breathe. Grunting, "Stupid little succubus is gonna drain my balls dry with her pretty mouth."

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ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE┊despite what’s written on the bathroom stalls, twenty-three year old gojo satoru, is a virgin. this was a well kept secret until he made a drunken social media post spilling his dirty laundry. worried about his standing in the university hierarchy — satoru turns to you, his oldest friend, to save his social life. how? by taking his virginity, of course.

content: a college au, angst if you squint, smut and fluff. gojo being an oblivious dork, afab!reader x gojo satoru, piv sex, f*ngering (reader receiving), c*nnilingus, a brief conversation regarding consent, no power dynamics, reader is called (hot, baby, sweatheart, is shorter than gojo.) all lowercase. word count: 10k

satoru guesses it is nearly five in the morning when his phone chimes three times in quick succession. he immediately regrets choosing a quacking duck as his notification tone, waking with a start and banging the top of his head against his coffee table.

the vibrations occur no more than a few seconds apart, the screen lighting up each time and nearly blinding him from its place on the floor; propped against one of the legs of the violent table. his body is awkwardly contorted, head turned in its direction.

satoru lifts up his head to glance at it — squinting in pain as he tries to focus on the kanji. It darkens before he can see who woke him and he turns up his nose in annoyance when he notices the cracked upper corner of his very expensive cell phone. he runs the heel of his hand roughly against his eyes, wiping the crusted edges in an attempt to clear his blurry vision.

despite not being fully coherent, satoru can tell that he’s hungover. his memory is hazy at best but some of it comes back in short flashes; being at the bar with nanami, drunken coin fumbling to buy another round of shots, someone tossing him on his living room floor and ruining his favorite shirt.

his white leather ottoman is bowing in the middle, obviously broken. the minibar is ransacked and the floor is covered with remnants of the night before: empty beer cans, a plate of chicken bones, a cowboy hat, half-eaten skinless mangos, his favorite jacket, a plastic battle ax, etc.

snoring on the couch and wearing only jeans and one sock, the words MUNCH written in sharpie across his forehead, is geto suguru. a cat that satoru assumes is his now, struts across the top of the couch until it reaches a plastic cup blocking its path.

recognizing the obstruction, the feline slaps it off the side and the cup hits suguru in the face. hard. stale saké splashes all over him and he jerks awake before falling directly onto the pile of beer cans on the floor. the black sharpie starts to drip down his forehead in jagged lines that look almost like stitches.

“oh shit,” he groans, strands of black hair falling out of his top knot and into his eyes. “what the hell happened last night?”

satoru goes to shake his head, but the heaviness of it makes him nauseous. he glances over at his friend and then down at himself. “pajama party?” he lays in the same position he originally slept in and the same white button up he remembers wearing (albeit with a few buttons missing).

the two men groan in unison, satoru lifting himself up and using his now broken leather furniture for leverage. vertigo hits him hard and black dots are on the edge of his vision, but he’s able to stumble his way into his kitchen while keeping hold of the contents of his stomach. on his marble countertop are painkillers, candies that he’s sure are from his pantry, and a note. it reads: try not to black out again. you almost killed me for attempting to put you in bed.

satoru raises a brow, recognizing his friend’s font-like handwriting well. how sweet of nanami to look out for them in this way! he makes a mental note to tease him about it later.

satoru pops a candy in his mouth, the hard sugary treat clacking against his teeth. he scrolls down on a search engine for hangover remedies and just as he learns that sugar is apparently not what he should be having (oops?) a new notification appears, grouping with the three from earlier:

INU_NOT_YASHA liked your post.

the notification itself wouldn’t be so strange if it weren’t inumaki that liked his post. he rarely ever saw the underclassman on the app (and if he did it was watching slime making videos.) satoru can hear the rustling of beer cans as suguru must be removing himself from the floor now, too. another notification comes up and then another:

JLAWFAN39 liked your post

JLAWFAN39 commented on your post: woah gojo-senpai you’re way braver than me. why were your nipples out btw? ://

satoru raises an eyebrow. he hadn’t posted a shirtless picture in… like three days. (a new record) he goes to respond to the comment and defend his honor, but the next one makes him pause.

NANAMI.KENTOBOX commented on your post: he insisted that they needed to “air out.”

nanami often preached about how much he hated social media, how the instagram account he had was purely for convenience. what would have caused him to comment on one of satoru’s posts? he never had before.

satoru taps on the notification then, wanting to know what the fuss was all about, especially since he was the topic of conversation. what he finds makes him almost drop his phone in the sink.

for starters, he had posted six images at once (which did not fit the minimalist aesthetic he’d curated over the past two years.) one photo is of him, suguru, and nanami in the bar. the more stoic man is begrudgingly standing with his arms crossed. from there, each picture gets progressively more raunchy. until the very last one, a recorded video, starts to play.

it’s definitely him, pulling at his own button up in an attempt to flash the camera. nanami is heard sighing in the background and geto is making weird mouth sounds at what satoru assumes is the mystery cat. “could you at least give me a warning before you strip?” the blonde man chastises. satoru can hear the sound of him rummaging through his kitchen cabinets.

video satoru lets out a laugh, throwing himself back on the living room floor with the phone raised over him. there’s a thick thud where his head connects to the ground, one that makes both suguru and nanami wince. “ouch!” he whines, pouting at the camera and using his free hand to rub the sore spot on his head. his cheeks are red and his eyes are almost closed, obviously intoxicated.

“i’m soooo lonely, guys. who wants to come keep me company?” satoru instantly cringes at himself. this was definitely embarrassing (and explained the 200 followers he’d dropped in the span of only a few hours) but not enough for him to be concerned, right?

video satoru gets a faraway look in his eyes, the kind that says he’s about to either burst into song or is very deep in his feelings. “don’t any of you get jealous, okay? i’m just kidding! i wouldn't please you, anyway. i don’t have the experience.” satoru sees his past self start to tear up and suddenly, he remembers the feeling of laying on his expensive rug and feeling the cool air riddle his chest with goosebumps. he also remembers what he says next for all 4,000 3800 of his followers to see:

“being a virgin fucking blows.”

and there it is on the internet forever. his biggest secret. something that only one other person knew about until now,  broadcasted on his most used social media platform. shit. shit! 

suguru has managed to lift himself off the floor somehow, making his way over to the kitchen while holding the street cat in both hands. his sock is practically hanging off his foot now, the black ink on his forehead streaky as if someone ferociously tried wiping it off. “don’t look so distraught, satoru. just make another post saying you were drunk.”

satoru gives this some thought but one look at his dms and he knows he won’t be able to salvage this social nose dive. people were blowing him up asking if the post had any truth to it, if he needed a warm body to fill his bed at night. it was all too much, panic starting to set in.

noticing his friend’s genuine distress, suguru raises a brow. slowly, a smirk starts to appear on his face. “wait… is it actually tru-”

“of course not!” satoru interjects, shutting off his phone and flippantly waving a hand in his friend’s direction. he flinches at the volume. “i lost my virginity years ago, you know that. besides,” he grabs the street cat from suguru’s hands and lifts it so that their cheeks are pressed together. “who needs sex when you have this adorable little thing?” the adorable thing in question immediately tries to squirm out of his grasp.

the smirk doesn’t leave suguru’s face and in response he shrugs his shoulders. “alright then, who popped your cherry? you never told me that many details. is it someone we know?”

satoru feels his face redden. “uh, well-”

this is where things get complicated. if he made up a name then suguru would surely grill him on every detail of the encounter, finding holes in his lie. he had to think of someone and fast.

“well?” the dark-haired man presses, lips still curled in amusement.

in satoru’s defense, he was cornered! he couldn’t possibly tell him the truth now, could he? it is a split second decision (the only response he could conjure up) when satoru opens his mouth to say the first name that comes to mind. it is only by pure necessity and recency bias, that it is yours.

judging by the angle of the sunlight filtering in through your cheap blinds, soft yellow that just barely comes over the horizon, it was most definitely too early for you to be awake. you glance over at your alarm clock, the green letters showing that it was without a doubt, too damn early. whoever was pounding at your front door must have wanted a death sentence.

at first, you decide to let their knocking be until they give up, assuming no one was home. one quick glance at the opposite side of your dorm and you see that nobara is nowhere to be found – already up and at her morning class. unfortunately for you, this person was persistent and what was once a pounding of a fist turns into a song of some sort… as if they were entertaining themselves until you decided to stop ignoring them.

you consider your options – one of them being whether or not prison is as horrible as they say – and another debating the logistics of jumping out of a third story window and landing directly on concrete. you roll both options back and forth in your head like a mental tug of war – but right as you are about to decide – the knocking stops.

a sigh escapes you as you roll over onto your side, back facing the window behind you. your eyes close and you nuzzle deeper into the warmth that is your bed. before you can appreciate the sudden silence, the shrill jingle of your cell phone blares to life on your bedside table.

“are you-” you slam your hand down on the device and drag it by its tied charms to your side. you don’t look at the caller id before you swipe to answer and lift the screen to your ear. “fucking kidding me?!”

“i most certainly am not! good morning to you, too by the wa-”

you immediately hang up at the sound of his voice, letting your phone fall onto the ground. you were not letting that string bean ruin your slumber again. the last time you answered this early, he’d been drunk off his ass slurring about something you don’t even remember. not this time! you close your eyes again but the same agitating, grating voice comes out behind a muffled door. it calls out your name in a sing-songy tune, followed by knocks that hit the same melody. “open up,” he sings, “i know you’re in there~!”

you groan loudly into your pillow.

you’ve known gojo satoru long enough to deduce two things about him – he was definitely persistent, and annoyingly patient when he wanted to be. no amount of potential embarrassment could sway him. if you didn’t answer now, he’d knock until your neighbors called the police and you’d have to deal with their nagging for weeks; especially from the two sophomores in 1B, they fucking hated you.

you begrudgingly lift yourself up out of your warm bed and trudge to the door. as soon as you open it a flash of what can only be described as a tall shadow moves past your vision so quickly that you almost get whiplash. “thank god,” a voice you recognize chirps, “it took me forever to even get you to wake up.”

you shut your door and turn around to see none other than gojo satoru, your best friend, dressed in his campus hoodie. the same design of hoodie that you had slept in the night before. he’s as handsome as ever, stark white hair and bright blue eyes covered with thin shades. he smiles at you and you return a frown. it’s only then that you notice the plastic bag in his left hand and the familiar brown label on the bottle that pokes through.

“before you kick my ass, just hear me out. yeah?” he rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie and you try to not let your gaze linger on his forearms. “have a seat. i’m gonna set the table.”

satoru places the bag on the table in question (which is just a desk next to your bed) and grabs you by your shoulders to guide you to sit down in your chair. you comply, your half-asleep state focusing only on the sweet cheese danish he places in front of you along with your favorite bottled coffee drink. he pulls out his own goodies and you raise a brow at the very modest bottle of water.

you see, satoru had a vice. one you had known well after your many years of friendship. every morning, without fail – he’d drink the most sugar-induced, whipped cream, caramel drizzled frappuccino known to man. you’d always tease him and ask how satoru still had all of his teeth and he’d just lick the caramel that dripped on his fingertips and give you an annoyingly handsome smile. for him to drink anything without artificial sugar was concerning, to say the least. he sits on the opposite side of you on your bed and starts to tap his fingertips on the desk. he seemed almost…nervous? you open your coffee, the plastic top cracking under your hand.

“so,” you lift the bottle to your lips, “was starbucks closed or something–?”

“i want you to take my virginity.”

you choke on your coffee mid-sip, sputtering as you try to repress a coughing fit. it takes you a moment for you to catch your bearings, grabbing a packed napkin from the bag and pressing it against your now stained hoodie. “shit–! ‘toru, what?”

satoru lays down with his legs spread out in front of him and his elbows keeping him up; the sheets moving beneath him. you can tell by the gleam in his eyes that he’s dead serious. frighteningly so. “i want you to take my virginity! pop my cherry. steal my virtue–“

“stop!” you interrupt him, hand lifting up in front of you as the other places a now soiled napkin on the table. “please, don’t elaborate, satoru.” you press two fingers on the bridge of your nose and take a moment to collect yourself.

“what do you mean you want me to take your virginity?”

he rolls his eyes at this, sitting up so that one arm supports him. his hand reaches out to grab your discarded stack of napkins, playing with the ends of the paper. “you told me once that people should share their first time with someone they care about, that they trust.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i trust you more than anyone.”

you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “there’s more to it than that, toru.” how could he be so calm about this? “you have to actually love the person to some degree–!”

“who says i don’t love you?”

that makes you pause, lifting your head to make eye contact with the man in front of you. he said it in a way that suggests that it was ridiculous for you to believe otherwise.

exasperated, you sigh through your nose. “satoru, you know what i mean. it’s a different kind of love. you need someone who wants to… i don’t know! build a life with you or something.”

he laughs at this. “right because when you lost your virginity to maki, it was because you were madly in love?”

“that’s not the point.” he raises a white eyebrow.

in a way he’s not entirely wrong, you and maki were dating at the time but you never saw a future with her. when you broke up it was amicable, two people realizing that they just weren’t all that compatible. still, your point stands. you didn’t regret the way you lost your virginity or who you’d lost it to but would the same be said for gojo? could your friendship survive that?

as if sensing that you were thinking entirely too much, a long pale finger flicks your forehead.

“ow!” you instinctively look over at the other side of the room — turning away once you remember that nobara is still out for the day. you can practically feel her eyes burning the side of your head because of the noise.

“pay attention! i’m practically giving you my body on a silver platter and you aren’t even giving me the time of day?” he suddenly hops (or more accurately steps with his long ass legs) to your side of the table and plants himself on nobara’s bed next to you, moving your feet to relax on his lap. “i’m not asking you to give me the most mind blowing experience of my life just… i want to get it over with.”

(somewhere, nobara feels a shiver run down her spine. a great disturbance only caused by gojo satoru.)

you give him the look he hates, the one that says he’s not getting what he wants. “what if this ruins our relationship? i-i have an idea! what if you ask suguru to take your virginity?”

if looks could kill you’d be six feet under. “and get throttled with his bare hands for even asking? besides he’s ugly,” his nose scrunches up in disgust, “you’re hot and like, soft. you exfoliate.”

“gojo satoru–“

“i also might have told him that you took it already.”

that makes you pause. of course he told the second most popular man on campus. “you did fucking what?”

“don’t worry about it! i doubt he believed me!” you give the same look from before. “okay, admittedly i could have framed this conversation better–“

“you think?”

“but… if i were to be with anyone, why wouldn’t it be you?”

you consider this for a moment, covering your face in your hands. maybe if things were simpler, if the two of you were just acquaintances, it would be easier to agree to. but how are you expected to sleep with someone who you’ve known since you were freshmen in high school? you’d helped his mom cook dinner, talked to his dad about the family business even when you had no interest. they were like a second family to you. 

you feel a hand grab your wrist and you look up to see the face of a man you know better than anyone, who you would hate to lose. “don’t look so freaked out! i’m not going to force you or anything so... just think about it?”

you sigh but nod your head, ignoring the pounding of your heart. “alright… yeah. i’ll think about it.” 

you did not think about it. in fact, you did everything in your power to not think about it. that meant burying yourself in your studies and avoiding gojo satoru at all costs, giving the excuse of being busy every time he tried to meet up.

by the time the two of you left your dorm that day, you’d not only found out why exactly he was in a rush to lose his v-card but that the school was now divided on the legitimacy of gojo’s virginity claims. especially since you were allegedly the one to have taken it. geto suguru made quick work of spreading that fact to anyone who would listen.

on one hand, you were happy that satoru had some of the heat off him but that meant that you were getting dms from people you’d never even spoken to before, asking for you to confirm it. eventually you just went private but that made the rumors spread even more. were you two together? friends with benefits? was it just a one night stand?

after a week of this – you started practically barricading yourself in your dorm room, avoiding not only gojo but anyone else that was trying to get the latest news on your relationship. of course, you could only keep this up for so long, message after message hitting your phone. once from itadori on how to use a rice cooker but mostly from satoru asking if he’d made you uncomfortable or crossed a line.

you would say no, that you just needed to focus on your classes, but he didn’t take that answer — posting sad bart simpson edits on his instagram story to further prove his point. you hated making him feel this way (even if he was being overly dramatic) but you weren’t someone that liked being in the spotlight. satoru had always been popular, adored. you tended to just fade into the background and you liked it that way.

when you try to lift your head, you realize that your face is pressed into the crook of your arm. there’s a blanket draped over you that you don’t recognize and it slips off your shoulders when you start to move from your uncomfortable position at your desk. the blinds of your dorm are open wide enough for pale blue light to peer through them and it blinds you momentarily as your vision clears. the light reflects off of something black and metallic on your right hand, pen stains from last night. gross.

you groan and place your face back into the cocoon your arms have created. you have a class fairly early today but by the color of the sky through your window, that time hasn't come yet. maybe you could get just a few more hours in…

“rise and grind, sleepyhead!" your roommate says way too loudly for the early morning. normally you had no issue getting up, but the cram session from the night before presents itself with the pounding headache you have and the taste of a fruity energy drink on your tongue.

“nobara… as much as i appreciate the positivity,” your words are muffled in your arm, “i’m not exactly in the mood for it today.” you let out a sigh, feeling unreasonably hot all of a sudden. “this week–“

“i know exactly what happened this week. i think the entire campus knows at this point! i mean, jesus, all you've done is sleep.” you and nobara weren’t friends exactly, a frenemies type of relationship if you will, but you could see the obvious concern on her normally stern features, brows furrowed and lips pouty.

she was attractive in an… aggressive way. a cute bobbed haircut and a bright, full laugh so contagious you couldn’t help but smile when you heard it. she was the type of girl to have both men and women alike on their knees. 

when you first met nobara she was too focused on flirting with a classmate of yours, and not focused on where she was going. to make a long story short, you both got into an intense screaming match. all of this in the middle of the courtyard, while standing over the box of personal items that you had been carrying to your dorm. it didn’t exactly make things easier for the two of you when you found out that you would spend the entire semester together. satoru had to practically hold you both back so you wouldn’t start throwing blows. she saw you as a clumsy, irritable nuisance and you saw her as an annoying flirt with too much time on her hands.

somehow over the course of time you two had come to a mutual level of understanding and the hostility slowly dissipated from your living space. now, months later, she was one of the few people on campus that you felt comfortable venting to.

you stretch your arms over your head, ignoring the way her eyes peered down at you in what you perceived as pity. “yeah well the entire campus doesn’t know the whole story, do they?” you say with a hint of exasperation in your voice.

she grins. “no, i suppose they don’t.” nobara pulls over her own desk chair as you spin yours around to face her. you tuck your knees up to your chest and she gets comfortable across from you. “tell me everything.”

you proceed to explain the events of the week in vivid detail, making sure to emphasize how mortifying it all truly was. she wasn’t there, so you had to paint a vivid picture. the determined look he had given you, the early morning bed hair he still had. nobara’s nose curls at the sound of satoru’s name and she almost has a heart attack when she realizes he sat on her bed. when you explain exactly what satoru had asked from you, she crosses her arms against her chest and her lips curl up on one side. your voice is soft and your cheeks feel warm. even if your face were stoic as ever right now, your anxious hands were a dead give away to how flustered you were.

“he wants you to take his virginity.” this is a statement, not a question. you nod. “and not only did he lie and tell geto that you already had” you nod again, slower this time. “but you’re considering actually taking up the offer.”

“well – yeah. pretty much.”

nobara shrugs. “honestly, i didn’t think you had it in you but a dirty mind can come from even the most innocent–“

“who says i’m actually going to sleep with him?” you interrupt.

she raises a brow. “you’re not?”

“no! i-i don’t know! maybe?”

nobara’s signature smirk is back and she’s leaning in closer to you, knees knocking against the edge of your chair. “are you positive?” your friend reaches behind you and grabs one of the sticky notes off your desk. in barely legible writing it reads your first name and then the last, replaced with gojo instead of your own. shit.

it was a joke the two of you made after a long night of studying. nobara had made a comment about how you had a crush on your longtime friend and you didn’t exactly deny it. “gojo isn’t that bad of a family name. if gojo ever gives you the opportunity, fuck him. hell, you can even marry him if you’re feeling bold! do that thing that americans do where you take his last name.”

you had laughed it off, even though at the time you had been completely committed to maki. it was supposed to be a joke, a little thing between the two of you. now, many months later, it’s obvious you weren’t the only one who remembered that conversation.

“i knew you had some type of feelings for him!” she whisper-yells, “is that why you’re so scared to go through with it?”

you can’t help the way your lips twitch downwards, breaking your stoic appearance. nobara knew you better than you thought. it was equally flattering and annoying. “fine,” you huff, “you got me. is this the part where you tell me that i’m gonna get my heart broken? that i should have told him how i felt months ago?”

nobara shakes her head. “obviously not. this is the part where i say that as your friend, i want what’s best for you.” she leans in impossibly close now, her hands resting against the arms of your chair. you stare into her eyes and the glossy brown color stares right back at you.

“maybe the only way you’ll get over this little crush is by testing out the merchandise or maybe he just feels the same way!” she pauses and you see her dark eyes narrow with mischief. “besides, you’re practically attached at the hip anyway. he’s come to check on you ten times in the last four days.”

you think of the days this week that you’ve hidden behind the door as nobara rattled off an excuse for you, saying that you’d gone to the library or to visit a professor. the times you’d seen him in a hall and took a detour around campus just to avoid awkward conversation. if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t being entirely fair to him.

“yeah, yeah i get it. i’ll talk to him.” you lift your hands in defeat, ignoring the way she practically shakes from excitement.

“thank god! do me a favor ‘n fuck him dumb so that he forgets how to speak, yeah?”

you only shove her away, her laugh filling the room as you turn around to grab your cell phone from your night stand. you turn it on and see a slew of messages:

[12:00 am] toru: u know things are bad when im up this late

[12:30 am] toru: i know ur awake :((

[12:57 am] toru: or maybe you arent? ur dorm light was on earlier

[1:25 am] toru: that sounds so creepy i was just walking by :((( 🙏🏻!!

[1:30 am] toru: i miss you

you let out a chuckle but it comes out more sad than you mean for it to. you missed your friend just as much as he seems to have missed you.

[7:45 am] you: meet me at our place after class?

you don’t expect a response to come so quickly, the vibration going off before you can even fully place your phone back on the table.

[7:46 am] toru: i’ll be there.

the sharp crunch of torn flesh clear in your ears, the salty juices coating your lips and tingling from spicy red pepper flakes. your plate of chicken is practically empty and you sigh in content as you place down your final bone and wipe your mouth. satoru is sat beside you and for the first time since this whole fiasco you actually see a hint of a smile on his face, watching you enjoy your meal with his own plate nearly empty.

you’re currently sat next to each other in the busy restaurant. everyone who had gotten off of school or work stopped by on their commute home and now it’s so packed that the two of you have no choice but to share a small booth area in the corner. to anyone looking on, you seemed like a normal couple sharing a meal after a long day. it was nice, comforting even, to imagine.

you’re staring down at your plate still, contemplating whether or not you want to order another round. your fingers tap on the table, the surface dented slightly from drunken toasts and sticky with cheap cleaning solution.

you feel a wave of air in front of your face and satoru is looking at you with the same sly grin. he looks so natural like this, warmth radiating from the hand he raised in front of you to get your attention.

“are you sure you don’t want to eat the bones, too? maybe suck on the marrow?”

you take a sip of your drink and roll your eyes at him. “laugh all you want but i’m trying to compensate for a week of surviving off of granola bars and gatorade.”

at the sound of your eating habits, he frowns and you wonder if making that comment was a mistake.

“and why would you do that?”

you shrug a little and play with the bracelet on your wrist, one he gave you only a few birthdays ago. “i wasn’t exactly worried about my eating habits. this semester has been draining me so i’ve been preoccupied and everyone is up my ass about you, if you’ve forgotten.”

“oh, i haven’t forgotten. i guess i just… started drowning it out? maybe we should just try not to care what other people think about our relationship. it’s just college – none of this will even matter in a few years!”

you raise a brow at him.

“that’s rich coming from you,” you say, leaning in closer to the man next to you, “all you’ve cared about for the past few years is how everyone else perceives you! who cares if you’re a virgin? are you supposed to be some type of playboy because you’re pretty?”

he smiles at you and you immediately regret your choice of words. “you think i’m pretty?”

“objectively,“ you interject, “you are objectively pretty.”

“but i’m still pretty–“

“can you be serious for once in your life?”

“not a chance!”

you lean back so that your head is against the booth. “you’re stalling.”

“and you’re letting me.”

you close your eyes (hoping that if you couldn’t see him he’d just disappear) and get even more comfortable in the booth. you two were fairly far away from the rest of the afternoon crowd, the sound of moving plates and chatter filling your mind. you feel at peace sitting in the muffled silence, even though you know that satoru is watching you expectantly. you set up the meeting after all and he’d already said his piece.

you open your eyes and look into satoru’s very blue ones. they’re mesmerizing, a bit frightening if you didn’t know the person behind them.

“so…why’d you ask me? to… take it, i mean. was i just the easiest option?”

for the first time in the years you have known satoru, he looks genuinely taken aback. maybe because you sprung this all on him suddenly. your mood had been a little sour ever since you guys originally met up so this should have been expected.

he opens his mouth to speak but closes it again and you see his internal battle right in front of your eyes.  “you aren’t the easiest option at all.” he murmurs, voice so low you almost missed it.

“what?”

“i didn’t ask you to fuck me because i thought you were easy. i guess i just wanted you.” you can practically see his jaw struggle to move, as if getting the words out were painful. for a man that was usually so confident to feel any type of timidity…

now it’s your turn to be confused. “satoru, what the hell are you talking about?“

“just please, listen. can you do that for me?”

you nod, trying your best to follow directions and let him speak.

with a deep sigh, satoru looks more tired than he did earlier. you miss that warmth already. “i’m not exactly the best when it comes to not fucking up my relationships with people,” he thinks this part over a bit more, “hell if i know what a real relationship is even supposed to be like. what i do know is that it isn’t whatever i’d find with someone else so… i wanted to try it with you. maybe i saw this as an opportunity to eventually get there? i promise i never meant for any of this to happen, but i panicked. then you started avoiding me and i felt awful. i thought that i ruined everything.”

out of all the things he could have said, you weren’t prepared for this.

“i guess i never expected you to not be around. we’re almost always together! and yes, i was being childish and maybe even a little selfish but… i really didn’t mean to hurt you. you have to know that.” he pouts a little as he says this and you try to ignore how soft his lips look.

“are you mad at me?” you ask.

his expression turns sour, eyes dramatically wide. “no! i’m mad at myself. i shouldn’t have put you in this situation. it’s not your responsibility to make me feel better about something i caused. that would be gaslighting… is that the word for it?”

you stifle a laugh but nod. “yeah, that’s the word, toru.”

“look,” he starts, “i’m tired of pretending we’re strangers and walking around campus like a lost puppy. think of this as a sorry and a thank you for dealing with all my bullshit for the past few years.”

you know he’s serious. can see it in the way he looks at you and the way his eyes shimmer with a certain fire. you’re so used to seeing satoru as this goofy man who you managed to tolerate for the sake of your friendship. someone that you occasionally thought of on nights when you were particularly lonely. now all you see is just how appealing he looks with his pouty pink lips and pretty hair tickling his forehead. you wanted to run your hands through it and—

“—pull my head out of my ass or he would.”

you blink. “what?”

“you are really distracted today. when i talked to nanami about everything he said i had to pull my head out of my ass or he would.”

this was not the time for you to be drooling over him, not with so many people around.

satoru places a hand on the bare skin of your arm, squeezing the flesh gently before rubbing his thumb over it in small circles. “anyway, i know that it’s a lot to process at once but i’m really just offering here. do you… want to try being with me?”

you stare at him for a while but realize the heat of his hand is distracting you. your own hand reaches up to move his off of your arm, but he catches it and places it against his cheek firmly. satoru leans into your touch and hesitantly turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand. he doesn’t miss the way your pulse quickens when he starts to kiss down your wrist.

“you make a good offer, but i think there’s something i want to add.” you lean in to him to feel his warmth again, so close now that your lips graze his other cheek. you hear his breath quicken but he recovers with a small laugh.

“really now?” you can hear the smile in his voice, softer now.

you hum in response, your hand drifting down from his cheek to his chin, shifting a blue gaze to yours. “do you wanna get out of here, toru?”

and it's here in this tiny booth, fingertips pressed against his smooth skin, that you decide to take the leap.

because if gojo satoru wanted his first time to be special — to be with you of all people — then fuck, it was going to be.

satoru is panicking. you can see it in the way that he fidgets with the contents of the bag, reading the labels carefully to make sure he grabbed the right items. you’re sat on his bed, criss-crossed in front of him and everything he’d dumped on the duvet. condoms, lube, water bottles, a bag of candy. everything you’d need for what was to happen next. 

he’d already spent fifteen minutes on the phone with you at the store asking what kind of condoms you preferred and if a certain lube was better than the other. the attentive, albeit sometimes annoying personality you’d become accustomed to.

you try to ignore the tremble in his hand and the hard swallow he does before he speaks. “so, uhm. i didn’t get water based like you said but i have it in my bathroom if you change your mind.”

you smile at him. “toru, this is fine. perfect actually.”

“are you sure? i don’t want to hurt you–“

“you won’t. i’m not the virgin here, you are.”

“still–“

“satoru.” you places your hands on his, rubbing soothing circles on his skin. “please, i need you to relax. i’ll tell you if something feels wrong, don’t stress yourself out.”

he nods before letting out a small laugh at himself. “i don’t know why i’m so nervous.”

you place the items back in the bag, leaving the condoms and lube on the bedside table. “let’s try and loosen you up then, yeah?”

you tug on his hand so that he moves forward. satoru follows you as you guide him to rest against the headboard and you sit patiently between his thighs. “okay, so we should… express some boundaries before we start, yeah?”

satoru nods and tilts his head a little to the side, you can’t help but be reminded of the cat you just met that’s currently resting in the living room. apparently, he named her candy bag. he has no idea where she came from.

“first, i want you to know that we can stop whenever you want–“

“trust me i’m not–“ he interjects.

“if you do, though. we’ll use the stoplight system. red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for keep going. understood?”

gojo nods, not realizing that he’s gripping the sheets with his hands. “yeah, i got it. could you... not call me like daddy or anything like that? at least not yet. i’d like it more if you called me nice things or my name.”

“bold of you to assume it’ll be that good.”

“i’m aiming to please.”

“i’m sure you are. but, nice things?” you tease with a small smirk, “like what?”

he shifts under you and you see a rising blush against his cheeks. “you know, like baby or that name you call me– ‘toru. something like that.”

you nod. “alright, i can do that. for me, uh, don’t push my head down at any point. okay? it sort of freaks me out.”

he gives you a shocked look and you realize that the implication of what you said just hit him. “what?” you awkwardly scratch the back of your neck, “i’m going to at least try to make you feel good.”

satoru smiles at you and his grip on the sheets loosens. “i’m not complaining, just surprised. i guess.”

you roll your eyes. “just…” you pause. for a moment, you are lost in his long white lashes and the soft arch of his brow. he is so beautiful. you wish you could hate him for it. “…lean back, idiot.”

you move to straddle satoru’s hips. there’s a warmth where he automatically rests his hands on you, fitting against your hips perfectly. they still shake, ever so slightly. “that feels nice,” you murmur. he fails to hide the way he preens underneath you. you take a mental note of it for the future.

you lean in close, your breaths mingling and chests almost touching. satoru lets out a shaky breath and you gently cup his cheeks. “can i kiss you, ‘toru?” he gives you the smallest of smiles but nods, still a little tense.

first you press a kiss to his blushed cheek and then to the corner of his mouth. “relax, sweetheart… touch me.” and he does, his hands gently trailing up your spine and down to the dip of your back. you kiss him then, soft pecks that soon turn deeper as you lips mold together.

he’s a good kisser, almost too good with the way you forget what you’re both doing. his tongue is warm and experienced, curling against your own. your mind shifts to parties when you were younger but you shove the image down as his teeth nibble at your bottom lip, sucking the flesh into his mouth with a groan. without even realizing it, you’ve started to move against his slowly growing bulge, gasping as you feel a familiar throbbing, aching arousal between your thighs.

his tongue licks your lower lip when you pull away, watching as satoru’s breath begins to hitch, his chest jumping.

he moves his hands lower to cup your ass, hovering before he gets to the swell of it. “go ahead,” you say, “i–i want you to touch me.”

never mind the time spent discussing this, anticipating it. your face still feels unbearably hot. your gaze lowers to his mouth, unable to meet the raw, open desire in satoru’s expression. you’re still not quite used to seeing him this way; your best and longest friend.

with a firm squeeze of his hands, satoru presses you closer and grinds your front against his own. it’s in this moment that you hear him moan for the first time. it’s a low and breathy sound. now you want to pull every noise from him. you want to hear the deep ones from his chest that you would fantasize about on nights when you were alone – fucking yourself on the toy you kept under your bed. you pull away from him and satoru looks dazed.

“i wanna put my mouth on you,” you pant, “can i?”

it takes him a moment to realize what you’re asking and then he’s nodding; looking down at the bulge of his pants. his eyes are hooded as you lift yourself up from his legs and grip onto his sweatpants. “just so you know,” he starts as you tug his pants down, “i’m actually pretty big, so just be careful to not hurt yourself–“ he gasps at the feeling of you palming him over his boxers. a shudder moving down his spine when you start to fondle his balls.

“f–fuck okay that for sure feels different when someone else is doing it.” you can’t help but laugh and he rolls his eyes at you. “stop making fun of me, i’m in a very vulnerable state right now!”

“yeah, i’m sure you are.”

your fingertips graze his waistband and start to pull. even though he has already consented, you glance up at him anyway for approval. when he slowly nods, you finally pull his cock free from its place under his boxers and hold it in your grasp.

you would not give him the satisfaction… but, fuck was he pretty. he wasn’t very thick but he was long. soft pale skin until it reached the thick blushed tip. he had a bit of a curve and twitched every time the cold air drafted into your space.

satoru watches as you take him in and feels something stir in his chest. he liked the way you gawked at him, your mouth hovering just barely an inch away and teasingly puffing warm breaths against his already sensitive length.

you examine him more, wanting to see him squirm for a little while longer. and when you finally lean in, it’s to press your tongue to the underside of his clock and drag it up until you reach the leaking tip. satoru let’s out a strangled gasp, trying his hardest not to buck his hips into you. you take him in your mouth and use a hand to hold his hip, immediately dropping yourself lower until he hits the back of your throat and his trimmed pubic hair tickles your nose. “f–fuck!” he moans, a hand gripping your shoulder. “baby, shit– slow down or i’m gonna cum before we’ve even started.”

you slowly pull yourself up, tongue smoothing around his tip as he lets out another pretty sound. you decide then that you want to hear it again and reach out a hand to grip his base. his grip on your shoulder tightens as you move faster, bobbing your head around him as saliva collects in your mouth. “you can take it,” you say with a mouth full of him, pulling yourself up briefly to speak. “just enjoy it, satoru.”

and enjoy it he does, releasing his grip on you so that he can caress your soft hair. he makes sure not to pull or tangle his fingers in it for fear of hurting you, just gently feeling your pretty strands against his palm. 

“fuck, you’re perfect.” he praises, “i knew you’d be perfect.” when you start to rub your thighs together against the bed, it’s hard for him not to notice.

“i’m a fast learner, you know. y–you can teach me what to do. how to— oh shit —make you feel good. do you want that?”

you respond by squeezing him and satoru jumps, his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. he puts his hand on the nape of your neck and rubs the skin as a way of apology. you lift your head and smile at him.

“you taste good,” you murmur, your lips slick with saliva and precum. satoru thinks he might pass away from the sight. you tug on his shirt, and satoru quickly yanks it off with one arm to toss on the floor.

he’s always been thin but it’s only now that you see his toned muscle, the hard contours of his stomach and chest.

following his lead, you reach to tug off your clothes but satoru places his hands over yours. “wait,” he moves them away and grips the hem of your favorite sweatshirt, “i’ve always wanted to take this off you. can i?”

you smile and tilt your head a bit. “always, huh?”

he playfully shoves your shoulder. “shut the hell up. lay back.”

you follow directions, back firmly against the large bed as he pulls your sweatshirt from your head. you aren’t wearing anything underneath and he stares at your breasts in what could only be described as awe. you lift your arms to cover yourself, but satoru is faster. his hands move yours to your sides and he situates himself between your legs. “stay still.” he demands, and you do as you’re told.

he’s deliberate in the way he removes the rest of your clothes, making sure to rub his hands together first so that they don’t feel icy against your skin, pressing kisses against your thighs as he situates himself between your legs. you have half a mind to clamp them shut as he gets unbearably close to where you want him most. “so wet,” he murmurs, glancing up at you in surprise. “i didn’t even touch you.”

you feel heat rising up your neck and face, hoping the darkness concealed the embarrassment on your face. “didn’t have to.”

trying his best (and failing) to hide how pleased he was in himself, satoru reaches over to the bedside table and squirts some of lube on his fingers. he looks up at you for guidance.

“rub them together, warm it up a little,” he nods and you see the slickness seeping in between his long (and recently clipped) fingers.

you show him with your own how to touch you. “use your pointer finger first and then slowly ease into me, okay? take your time but don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re lost.”

satoru’s listens intently, for once not joking as his pointer finger enters your already slick hole with ease. you make sure to relax further and nod as he starts to gently thrust it into you. “good job, baby, you’re doing so well.”

his fingers are so long that you start to feel a bit of sweat on your brow, you want him to touch the most sensitive part of you, to have you shaking and crying on his cock, but you knew that this wasn’t the time yet. patience was key.

he makes sure to ask you if you’re okay as he adds more fingers, your gentle encouragement turning into pleas. when he leans in to gently stimulate your clit with his tongue, you let out a whimper. “am i doing a good job?” he asks, words muffled as his mouth suckles and licks at your sensitive clit.

you whine, the pace of his fingers quickening after what feels like hours of him easing you open. “fuck, you’re doing so good. keep going, ‘toru.”

the inclusion of his mouth on you is almost overwhelming. you’re surprised that he was doing so well considering that he only had porn for reference. you know he’s just being thorough but it’s hard to keep yourself from pushing him down and taking what you want.

satoru can feel you tighten around him. your moans causing his cock to twitch against the sheets. he needs you, craves you. “baby,” he leans up so that you are face to face, “i want to be inside you now. is that okay?”

you nod your head so quickly he laughs at you. “someone’s eager.”

“shut up and just do it already.” you pout, but he kisses it off your face. partially because he wants to taste you again, and also to distract you from the feeling of his fingers pulling out of you.

“can i ask you for something?” he murmurs, gently biting on your bottom lip and pulling it into his mouth.

“hm?” you murmur against his mouth, “what is it?”

“i want you to ride me,” he says, kissing down to the spot where your shoulder and neck meet. his kisses become rougher, for sure leaving marks on your skin. “i wanna watch you bouncing on top of me, wanna see you make a mess while i’m buried inside you. you can say no but i think i’ve touched myself to the thought too many times to not ask.”

you feel your heart jump to your stomach. “you… thought about me?”

“i still think about you. i know you think about me, too.”

you decide to not engage, ignoring the sudden desire to confess something to him. “get on your back then.” you say, pushing into his ribs so that he’d roll over to the side. he looks so pretty like this, lips all red and puffy. you position yourself over him and satoru runs his palms up your stomach.

“hold me for a sec,” you instruct, grabbing the box of condoms once he has a steady hold on you. you tear open the packaging and ease it on his extremely hard length. he winces as your hand grips him as it goes down but once it seems to be properly secured, you grab some more lube and squeeze it onto him.

you position yourself on top and line him up against you. for a moment, anxiety flickers in his eyes, but it quickly turns into determination. “what’s your color, ‘toru?” you ask, your hand moving to brush some of the wild hair from his face.

“green. definitely fucking green.”

you feel the grip on your hips as you ease yourself down on his length. he tenses up once he feels the first squeeze of you around him and as you slowly sink down, his grip on you tightens before he forgets how to breathe. “h–holy shit why are you so tight?”

you let your hands rest on his chest as you catch your breath, you realize how thankful you are for the prep from before when you shiver at the feeling of him twitching inside you. “c–can i move?” you whimper, feeling his grip release just a bit.

satoru nods his head and you feel him squeezing the fat of your waist to lift you up and then back down again, sucking him in from the tip and back down to the base. he lets out a guttural moan that you feel shudder in his chest. he looks up at you with an expression you’ve never seen before. 

“faster,” he breathes out, “fuck me faster.”

“s-satoru!” you gasp, placing your forehead against his as you lean down. your eyes close and your breath shakes, the air heavy with the air of lust that clings to you both now.

“wrap your arms around me. i want to try something.” your arms loop around his neck and he plants his feet into the mattress, the surface topping ever so slightly.

before you can process the change, satoru begins the process of taking your breath away and filling each thought with him. he thrusts inside of you at a deep, slow pace. each thrust feels like a competition, every moan you give a reward. it isn’t perfect and it takes a moment for him to get a solid rhythm, but once he does you feel yourself relinquish control.

your mouth falls open as you pant into his mouth — a thin layer of sweat sticking your bodies together. you feel a familiar pressure between your legs and try your best to warn him. “satoru i–“ you catch a glimpse of his eyes and can’t help but to bury your face into his shoulder.

“you’re squeezing me so tight. are you gonna, oh fuck–!” you can’t stop yourself from cumming against him, your release pouring out of you and dripping down on his cock as he continues to fuck your tight hole. the mixture of cum and lube is sticky and matting the hair at his finely trimmed base. satoru’s thrusts get sloppy and hurried, his grip on you keeping you from moving away. but you have no intention of running from him.

“t–too t–tight. gonna cum–!”

satoru releases into the condom, his hips jolting with each thick spurt. his pace slows as you whine and whimper against his chest. your fucked out body barely registering the hot, sticky mess between you two. “sorry, i …think i might have scratched you,” you whisper, finger grazing over a red line in his shoulder.

“it’s alright. lay here with me for a sec.” you nod your head weakly, pressing your face into his neck. you decide to talk about things in the morning but that doesn’t stop him using a warm rag to clean you off and giving you one of his shirts to sleep in.

he also forces you to drink a few gulps of water. some of it spills out the sides of your mouth and he makes you laugh when he sticks out his tongue to lick it up. he then makes sure that you take care of your hair before you fall asleep, keeping it protected under a silk bonnet that he somehow managed to pick up at the store, as well. he’s attentive and gentle and so far beyond what you imagined he’d ever be towards you with his usually goofy personality.

that is until you wake up the next morning and see a few messages light up on your phone.

[8:00 am] toru: ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ヽ(°□° )ノ me drowning in your pussy last night lol

[8:10 am] toru: jk plz come help with breakfast i burned the pancakes.

let’s just say that you appreciate the attempt.

over the next few days, you talk a bit more about the state of your relationship. if you wanted to be open about it online or if you wanted to let things fizzle out on their own. eventually, after setting more than a few ground rules, you both agree to be discrete. you'd let everyone else figure it out in their own time.

this doesn't halt satoru's social media presence, though, as the man regularly posts a photo of the new feline addition to his family. he easily gains back his two hundred followers thanks to ‘exploiting his new child’ as you so eloquently put it.

the future looked promising, but there were still things you both had to navigate to make your relationship work. it was going to be hard moving through life as lovers instead of friends but if anyone were to ask you — it was well worth the effort.

note: so if this looks familiar, it is! this is a repost. this is one of my favorite fics i've written so i'm reposting it here on my new blog since my last one was marked as explicit. ty for reading and give me a follow if you want to see more.

also ty to @saintshigaraki for originally inspiring this story.

TODOROSIE. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.