Nedjo Is The Current Hyperfixation
nedjo is the current hyperfixation
Hot Nerd Summer - G.S.
Synopsis. The best way to beat your tall, nerdy, hot academic rival during finals? Fúck him!
Pairing. Gojo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, nerd!Gojo, academic-rivals-to-Iovers, first times (Gojo), unprotected, hándjobs, semi-public (library), exhíbitíonism, he goes FÉRAL, coming back for more, slight switch!Gojo, face-sítting (fem rec.), 69, PÚSSYDRÚNK Gojo, size kínk, he’s BIG, rough s, running from it, creampíes, making him cúm dry, cúmplay, toys, punk!Geto cameo, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 11.2k
A/N. Happy Vesak to anyone that celebrates!!
“That jerkwad got 0.4% higher than me again, Suguru.” You’re fighting the urge to wallow your face on top of the café’s cluttered table, instead shaking a weary Geto Suguru by his broad shoulders. “Again! I’ll never make the top of Yaga’s Dean’s List now.”
Geto wonders whether this would be a good time to slip away- no. He shudders, thinking about the way said ‘jerkwad’ was probably skulking around, looking to lament about the very same thing.
Honestly, if this was a romcom it would be almost cute. Almost.
“Gojo’s just too- too smart.” You’re rubbing your aching temples, as if the words pained you to utter. “And infuriating, of course. And cocky and a try-hard and-”
“Honestly, you two should just duke things out in the bedroom.” He takes a looong sip of his milkshake, letting the silence drag on as you gape.
“Suguru that’s…” Bracing himself for yet another monologue on your supposed rival. Damn valedictorians- finals season was getting to you. “-that’s genius.”
He frowns.
Okay, finals season was really getting to you.
Taking a confused second to check his drink - strawberry milkshake, low sugar, as usual - he concludes that he definitely wasn’t spiked in any way and was definitely hearing you wrong. Of course, an understandable mistake. And so he’s clearing his gruff throat, “…what the fuck?”
Your long-time friend watches from across the table as you nod your head, a satisfied sort of smile plastering across your face - the very same one you often bore whenever you beat Gojo on a test, or a quiz, or a group project.
Or anything, really.
“That’s exactly it- I should fuck him.”
Yeah, he sets down the cup he was holding, he was definitely spiked. Or, maybe he was dead and this was his own personal hell.
“Ooookay, that’s enough all-nighters.” Geto’s plastering one of his ringed hands across your forehead, searching for a high temperature. “How about we get you to Shoko for some examination-”
“No no, listen.”
“I’m scared.”
Swatting away his well-meaning palms, you’re leaning towards him, so close that your lips waft the silver piercings decorating his ear. “If I fuck him—” Geto shivers, one of his ripped arms settling on top of the table in conspiring unison. “-he won’t have time to study. And if he doesn’t have time to study…”
The snake bites lining his rosy lips glint as they formulate a smirk, sleazy. “Oh, you dirty girl.”
DING-DING–!
And it’s as if the universe was having a good laugh at your expense.
Because right at that very moment, the cute lil’ bell on top of the café doorway sings as it swings open - and with it, ducks inside Gojo Satoru.
In all his refined, cranky glory - wiry-framed glasses nestled high on his nosebridge, strong, sweater-covered arms straining with the weight of damn near half the library stacked in a column, snowy bangs doing very little to hide the withering glare he was immediately firing your way.
The spitting image of the other valedictorian you’d been fighting both tooth and nail against since the start of freshman year.
You remember how it all started like it was just yesterday; you’d been sitting eagerly at the very front row of Professor Gakuganji’s lecture hall. Your sheer buzzing energy only matched by the white-haired boy seated next to you - perhaps a kindred spirit, maybe you’d even become friends, you naively thought.
That is, until Gakuganji had asked for a volunteer to start off ice-breakers that the both of you had shot up in your seat. Racing to be first.
Faces snapping to each other in shock, mouths tightening. An invisible war - which had, very famously, turned into a palpable war over the last few semesters. One that you’re sure nearly every student on campus had heard about (and bet on, you remember Shoko tittering about some betting pool.)
It didn’t help that you two had practically the same classes each year - and it really didn’t help that Gojo put all he had into one-upping you any time since that fateful meeting.
Always clamoring out of his seat to answer questions first, always trailing after teachers if he caught you sucking up to them, too, always checking out the same books after you did.
Hell, at one point you’d been convinced that he genuinely lived in the library.
“You’re staring~” Geto sing-songs, resting his grinning face on one hand as he watches the bee-line of your eyesight.
“Ugh- I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Flashing, cerulean eyes narrow as you rip your own gaze away, and Gojo’s sauntering over to a cosy seat near the back with an audible ‘hmpf!’
Bastard- that was your second-favorite seat. You should sit there next time…
“Look at him.” You’re spitting, feeling only slightly ridiculous at the raw vitriol in that sentence until Gojo physically turns around in his chair to flip you off. Haughtily, he swivels back to shift through his countless textbooks, surely studying for the upcoming final exam in a few days. “Bet he cuddles those books to sleep and that’s how he beat me today.”
Rays of sunlight dappling his pale hair, the straps of his backpack make his shoulder muscles ripple. For a nerd, he sure did take care to make everyone on campus secretly swoon.
…except for you, of course.
Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes - more to tear them away from the way that Gojo’s glasses made his eyes twinkle in the daytime.
“Not for long. Mark my words, Suguru, I’ll fuck him-” Murmuring, you pointedly ignore the gawking looks from the customers surrounding your table. “-I’ll fuck his brains out.”
Eyelids twitching slightly, Geto makes sure to graciously bow his head in an apology towards the older lady seated at the beside you two - clutching her chest as if she was about to have a cardiac arrest. “And you realize that by fucking him…he fucks you, too?”
“Oh.” Honestly, for someone so smart you could be so stupid sometimes. You ignore the heat that runs through your veins at the notion, and stuff your face into your long-cold coffee. Sputtering, “I-It’ll be fine.”
Famous last words.
.
.
.
“A-are you following me or just obsessed?”
“Nothing to be obsessed about here.”
“Then why are you following-”
“Maybe you’re following me, bast- I mean, Gojo.”
BANG!
And Gojo really should’ve been worried about ruining his squeaky-clean record with the campus librarian, slamming a few thickset books down on his usual studying spot was very unlike her model helper, of course.
But right now he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Not when you - campus princess, top pick for valedictorian, pain-in-his-ass - were face-to-face with him and standing the closest you ever had amidst that time you’d sat together on your first day.
And calling him by his name.
Jaw clenched, he steps towards his familiar chair by the shadowed corner - and you do, too.
Long legs maneuvering to claim his seat - and you do, too, right next to him.
Pushing his glasses-clad face into the first textbook he picks up, he doesn’t even notice that it’s upside down - not until you’re tapping your finger on the gilded corner of it and Gojo flinches. “You’re reading that the wrong way, y’know?”
“…it’s a form of studying.”
“I’m sure.”
“And- and what are you doing? Miss valedictorian has given up on being valedictorian so she’s here to bother me?” He seethes, finally taking a good look at you since you’d randomly ambushed him on his daily trip to the library. Tracking him around like a lost puppy and oh- oh, Gojo almost regrets it.
Because he might wear glasses, but he wasn’t blind.
Fuck, did you really have to wear a cutesy top so low-cut? And a skirt so tight, he hated how your thighs were so pretty - ones he’d only seen in his imagination- nightmares. His nightmares, for sure.
It’s no wonder that half the student body in your department would kill to be in this position, and the other half would kill him for daring to sit his gloomy, unpopular self next to you.
Gojo gulps as he inadvertently memorizes the lacy black shade of your bra strap, barely catching onto your humming response.
“Studying.” You casually raise your own book, something related to the content covered on the test tomorrow, surely.
“B-but- here-”
“And here I was under the impression that the library was public to all.” You’re cutting off his rambling by creeping an inch forwards. So close that you’re wafted with a cloud of his homey, ink n’ vanilla scent. Purring, “Is it not?”
“No! I know you- you just wanna steal my super secret Satoru studying tips.” He points at you, accusatorial.
Scoffing- why did you want to subject yourself to this nonsense again? Oh, right, that coveted spot at the forefront of Yaga’s Dean’s List, that’s why. “‘Studying tips’ my ass, you’re just scared I’ll beat you on the exam tomorrow.”
“You couldn’t beat me if Yaga stripped naked and danced with the answers in front of you.”
“Hmm–” You pretend to take down notes, “So is that what you think about before a final?”
“N-no- even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
Raising a brow, “Right…” And by the way that Gojo trembled at your tone of voice, shifting his glasses higher into his unruly bangs, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. “Because you’re scared.”
“Am not.”
“Am too.”
“Am not-”
“Am too. It’s alright, scaredy-cat-” You’re making a big show of letting the library chair screeeech against the polished hardwood floors as you stand up, fingers itching for your bag. “-I’ll just take my leave then, since you’re so sca-”
“Sit.”
And it wasn’t a plea, it wasn’t even a request.
Gojo had his warm, engulfing palm surrounding your wrist and all but dragging you back to sit back down with an unceremonious plop!
Hard and rough.
Before you’d even registered it - before you’d finished blinking - in an instant, he was back to his normally grouchy self. Grimacing face darted back between his pages, hulking body hunched low as he washed himself of the memory of your (unfairly) pretty self seated right next to him.
This was all a bad dream, he repeated to himself, as if a mantra. But then why was he feeling so…hot? Maybe this was one of those annoying side quests in video games- if he doesn’t interact, he won’t react.
Yeah, that sounded about right. He just won’t interact.
He will not–
“Your pen’s too loud.”
“Your breathing’s too loud.”
“So you want me to die-”
“Yes, please.” You’re sniping back on autopilot, your exceptionally silent pen scribbling along one of your flashcards. This really wasn’t how you saw your masterplan going - but it was too late to back out now. If there was anything that was revealed during this lengthy rivalry, it was that you weren’t a quitter. Huffing, “Do you always talk so much when you study?”
“Oh- I’m sorry, princess, want me to kiss your feet while I’m at it?”
“Didn’t think you were one for a foot fetish.”
“H-huh? No! What are you-”
And that slight waver in his voice makes you pause- it makes you snap your head up, just in time to catch the scorching red blush breezing down the back of Gojo’s neck. Visibly peeking through the edge of his creamy vest even as he buries his face into his upside-down book.
“Awww- what’s that?” Snickering, you take your chance to nudge your chair closer to his. Teasing. Until thighs met shaky thighs, shoulders bumped sculptured shoulders, and your syrupy breath made the tips of his ears flush. Voice low, “Can’t handle a lil’ sex talk, Satoru?”
Saying his first name- fuck!
He’s slamming his left arm where the heat of your sighs had burned his sensitive earlobe, grumpy baritone cracking– “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Are you a virgin?” You blink, your scheme giving way to genuine curiosity.
The way that Gojo’s mouth gapes is more than enough of an answer to you. Glasses slipping down his clammy skin, meaty legs shivering as you experimentally brush your palm to feel the flex of his outer thigh. He was…chiseled.
Blinking, “Really? Not even a handjob?”
And fuck- were you glad that he’d chosen a slightly distant corner of the library.
Because your hands might be rovering sensually underneath the table, but the tightness in Gojo’s slacks was obvious.
And it’s not that you spent a lot of time thinking about how big your mortal enemy might be underneath all his formal, upright outfits - but you just didn’t think he’d be this staggering. Perhaps average, at best.
But one slight glimpse through your peripheral vision left your greedy mouth parting - he was long. So, so long from the end of his body to way past halfway down his thick thigh.
And so massively girthy that you’re half-counting each jolting throb from the edges of your eyesight.
Your mouth waters something slick at the primal heat radiating from between his legs. Trying your very hardest not to let your jaw drop as your pupils dare to snake down, down, down—
“Wanna change that?” The words spill out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them- and Gojo looks ruined at the very idea.
Eyes glittering, cherry-pink lips falling into a soft oh! “Wh-what are you…”
You hesitate, this was Gojo after all. And you might feel your panties getting damper by the minute but he… Finger balling into a fist as you start to pull away, “Want me to stop-”
“Backing out, miss valedictorian?”
Fuck- it happens like a flash of lightining.
In a nanosecond you’re thinking you should pull away, and the next Gojo has his slender fingers gripping your wrist. Tugging your palm to creep right down the bulging cylindrical length twitching between his legs as if you were weightless.
He was desperate. He was shifting, lurching his hips up off the rickety chair completely so that your soft fingers brush further down his fat, weeping clothed cock.
An uncharacteristically dark drawl seeping into his voice, “Couldn’t score on the exam and now you can’t score- ngh.”
But, of course, this Gojo Satoru was all talk - his spit-glossed lips wobbling with a whimper the very moment you slip your hands to skim the hem of his pants.
Pop.
There goes one of his polished buttons, all sensible. Anything but the way that Gojo’s sexily slouching his toned body into the library desk, a heady gasp departing his lips. “Finish what you- hah! started.”
Pop.
And you knew that those dexterous digits of his could easily wander down his complicated buttons- but right now Gojo was fumbling.
He was gnawing on the bubblegum insides of his cheek and keening as he struggled to remove his trousers.
Pop.
Pop!
One of the silvery buttons end up clattering down on the wooden floors. Finally - finally - freeing his aching, bloated cock.
And you’re not just seeing it first - you’re hearing it. The very crown of his reddened tip hitting halfway up his cotton vest with a wettened splat! Eyeing the darkening patch of cloth with a gulp.
Gojo’s long lashes flap— hissing at the strike of cold air where he was most sensitive. “Wh-who’s the scaredy-cat now?”
But how could you not be spellbound?
Mentally, you’re counting nine - maybe even near ten - entire inches of his thick, vein-covered shaft.
The mushroomed edge of his cockhead blushing the prettiest shade of strawberry pink, and he was just as needily swollen. Spraying out a few glistening trails of pre that puddle up cutely near the curly tufts of white lining his v-line. He was just aching for your touch.
Ruining.
Jolting like he was zapped with a thousand bolts of electricity the moment your thumb smears the pearly bubble of precum that’d started to leak out of him. Breathless, “Who’s a scaredy-cat?”
“You-hngh!” He’s gritting down on his lower lip as a groan erupts from his throat, teary eyelids wrenching shut at the blissful sensation.
Your hand was so soft- so heavenly.
Just the slightest trace of your fingerpads gliding down Gojo’s puffy pink veins sends him heaving, the heated figure of his body leaning into your touch. “W-wait-” He spits out through snarling pearly whites as the length of your fingers squeezes the fattened base of his cock sensually. “Fuh-fuck! What the fuck- s-sexual pleasure. Shared sexual pleasure feels like this?”
Just lightly pumping up to press the mountains of your palm into his tender underside. Gojo was so rock-hard that your skin’s memorizing every zig-zagging line of his pulsing veins. “Hmm–?”
“This- how-” Azure eyes pleading up at you, “Hck! How-”
And you’re unsure whether he was babbling at the simplest drag of your hand or yearning for actual responses - but you never did leave a question unanswered. “Mmm– yeah? Like it, Satoru?”
“L-lov-” That little confession almost dribbles from his lips just from the way you’re cooing his first name. Ethereal ivory strands plastering to his forehead as he hastily shakes the thought free, voice breaking. In disbelief.
He’s tugging his slightly-fogged glasses up his nosebridge, “How does it feel like this- why- fuuuuck– should be…illegal.”
You’re fighting back a moan yourself, the dainty ends of your fingernails fluttering all the way from his drenched happy trail up, up, up, up to kiss his coral-pink slit.
Glittering a webbed wad of pre that drips down to your wrist as you’re caressing his sensitive outline. Just loooong, lazy traces that feel so good he’s sweating bullets from the sides of his temples.
“The arteries on the dorsal- Don’t stop–”
“So bossy.”
Gojo finds himself jerking impatiently. He finds himself flinching when you choose that very moment to lean your puckered lips over and plant a wet smack! of spit right down his bulbous, bulging tip. Starting up a sultry pace, “Think I like you better when you’re hah- like this, Satoru.”
“Shut up- fuck- mmm, right there-”
With two palms white-knuckled on the chair’s armrests, he’s stooping his muddled head over and rutting- animalistically. Milking himself on every drag of your plush hands, “Please- please.”
Oh, you really liked it when he begged.
And you’re pacing your hand even slower, squeezing the pointed globe of his ruby-red tip with a resounding squeeelch! “H-haaaah! There? There? I-if you touch me there…”
“Say that for me again- that ‘pretty please.’” When he can only lower his head deeper and wetly mumble- “Again- oh.”
You shouldn’t have underestimated him - you really shouldn’t have underestimated him.
Because the moment your wrist strains with the warning signs of slowing your tempo even more- Gojo’s snaps his right hand to hold your hand still and thrusts.
The weeping thickness of his cocktip mazes between your fingers like a searchlight, he’s fountaining out a warm ribbon of pre that froths down your hand once his long length emerges.
“F-for the distal end of the glans, the primary source of sexual pleasure- your hand’s fucking h-heaven…oh.” He’s letting rip a guttural grunt, the muscles on his neck ticking. Half-lidded, drunken eyes circling around dizzily until they finally fall upon your shocked oh! face. “Too bad I c-can’t say the same for your mouth-”
“Hey!”
And you would’ve said something further - you should’ve. You were trying to, yet that very moment Gojo fucks his slenderly toned hips up in such a hard thrust that it makes your pinky nearly bruise at the thwack! of his heavy balls hitting yours.
He was so fucking hard that the spank of his sagged balls make your skin sting, oh-so-tight that it leaves him standing uprightly erect even when you’re cupping his hilt.
“Nghhhh f-fuck. Yeah- yeahhh take it- take it just like that, princess.” Gojo’s voice drops into a carnal growl as he’s hooding his eyes over and staring right at where he was using your hand. The thickened digits of his fingers squeezing your own righter ‘round the gummy tip, looser to pound his base. “No one’s ever touched me like this.”
Your hands were so much smaller than his own - than his cock, too.
Damn near dwarfing your touch, he’s throbbing his girth so much fucking fatter that every jolt makes your own wrist shiver with intensity. Faster.
A few speckles of syrupy drool dribbling down the side of his curling lips, “Should’ve told me if- haaah-” And just then, you’re fingering your thumb to tease the flared ridge of his mushroom crownhead. Making Gojo shudder his pecs and droop his face to mouth down your neck.
Red hot. Your poor nerdy rival was blushing so hard that wherever he made contact with your throat made your flesh sizzle. “-if this was what you wanted s-so badly—”
“Fuck, Satoru-”
“You guys?!”
The sudden interruption of an upbeat voice is so abrupt that Gojo can’t do anything less incriminating than pushin’ his moaning, twisting face further into the crook of your neck. Hips subtly shifting on the chair to hide your sinfulness from view, it makes the pads of your fingers snag on one of Gojo’s prominent lightning bolted veins- and leaves him biting down on your throat to muddle a whimper.
“H-Haibara?” Your voice breaks once you’re lifting your head to stare up at the beaming smile of your fellow classmate. “What umm– brings you here?”
Innocently oblivious to the mess Gojo was drooling from the orifice at his cock as your pace gets sloppier. Faster. You’re coughing lightly to mask the repeated fwop! emanating when the back of your fisted hand hits the front of his toned pelvis.
“Same as you, of course.” Your audience replies, enunciating his point with a nod towards the papers and textbooks scattered about you two. Clapping his hands, “How wonderful it is to see the two of you studying together- I always did tell Kento you two would end up friends.”
And of course it wasn’t abnormal for Gojo Satoru to ignore anyone and everyone except his books.
Of course it wasn’t strange- but Haibara sweetly asks, anyway. Tone dripping in concern, “Is he alright, though?”
Gojo’s bucking up to your touch when he’s addressed, one that he’s masking as a flinch. Using that as lewd leverage to squeeze and squeeze the delicate line of his tip, up n’ down.
Forcing out a slight chuckle, “O-oh, he’s alright. Just resting.” Pointedly pumping your wrist until it was aching, all the way from the bloated bottom of his cock to thumb up his dripping crownhead that Gojo has to mask with shivers. Sneakily, you chance a grope of your free hand to tenderly squeeze his achy balls. “He can’t keep up with my…flashcards, y’know how it is.”
Haibara nods, “Right of course, of course- it’s so sweet how supportive the two of you are with each other’s studies.”
And underneath his panting, cloudy breath, you’re making out Gojo scoffing. The frigid rim of his glasses cratering against the pulse on the side of your neck as he throb-throb-throbs in your hand.
Twitching. Slobbering. Rutting- everything he could possibly do to milk his fat, swollen cock on your hands without anyone else here noticing. Punishingly, he sinks his honed canines into your skin— “C-cum- gonna–”
Urgently, your cadence turns nearly frantic. Furious, tugging pulls that leave the mahogany chair creaking with slight rickets.
“Y-yeah– Satoru- deserves it. He’s been working so hard.” You breathe, unsure who it was for.
But it makes the man melting at your touch hiss— the candy-pink divot homed right on the top of his barreling length so hot with slippery cobwebs of pre. Drooling out more. Jolting even more. Glasses sliding down.
Your classmate only grins, “Awww–” Taking the slightest step closer and your warm hand tightens in panic. “You two would make the cutest couple!”
And that’s just about when Gojo cums–
Hot, hard.
So, so heavy with the sheer volume of buttery, sappy white cum he was spilling into your lap. You fight to keep your smile from widening at the way his heated pink shaft drizzles with streaming streaks of seed that stains the skin of your outer thighs.
Gojo lets out a soft gasp of breath once he’s twitching his lusty cock to slap down on your flesh and chase the heat of your cunt.
Right where he feels himself slip n’ slide across the slick outer sheen dampening from your core— right where he needed to fuck you. Just the darkened edge of his dilated pupil peeks out from the crook of your neck to stare at your audience dead-on. In front of him, if he had to.
And you could sense it, too.
Which is why you’re hastily waving off Haibara’s comment– “Ahh– well, it’s too soon for that.”
“You never know~” Casually scratching the back of his neck, not a thing was amiss in the way that Haibara’s perking up. “I should leave you two to it, then. And I have to tell Kento about this new development and I haven’t studied and-”
You don’t dare let your sigh of relief escape until after he’d walked away with an eager wave.
Gojo himself was letting go of the area he’d been gnawing on your neck with a soppy pwah! Unsteadily lifting his head just to inch forwards and teeter-
Oh, he looked absolutely fucked-out.
All heavily-lidded eyes that blinked slowly, and a mouth now shiny with a fresh coating of transparent spittle. Spectacles askew, hair rumpled, collar hauled to the side as if he was undressing himself.
Greedy slobber bubbles up by the side of his flushed lips and trickles when he catches sight of your hands still wrapped around his softening cock.
Not looking ‘round you two - not even caring if anyone sees, he’s gently lifting your dominant wrist over to hover near his gulping maw. “Made me make s-such a mess, princess.”
Your fingers trembly at the sheer scorching gusts of his humid breath, Gojo bores right into your eyes as he unfastens his jaw and lets his pinkish tongue liiiiick right up your cream-coated fingers. And the only thing hotter than his ropes of seed were the slimy edges of his tongue.
Weaving between your pinky, takin’ extra care on your ring finger.
Each and every one. One by one, he’s sapping down wet slurps with his mouth as he sucks on each glob of white decorating your digits like his favorite lollies.
“W-we’re–” Gojo starts, his glittering lips still speckled with a bead of frosting. Of cum as he cleans you off. Dry Adam’s apple bobbing, “We’re never– hah.” Before strangling his words with a pained grunt and salivating the ridges of his tastebuds down your fingers in a final French kiss.
Then another. And another. And another- like he couldn’t fucking get enough.
And it viscerally ached him somewhere deeply primal inside to curl his rugged palm around your wrist and wrench himself away with a moistened pop! that resonates like music in the empty library air.
Mouth curling as he pushes up his glasses for the nth time, “We’re never studying together again.”
Speechless, it’s just then that you’re noticing that- oh. Gojo Satoru has dimples.
.
.
.
Gojo Satoru failed that test.
He totally, totally failed that test.
Which wouldn’t have been as completely soul-crushing to watch his streak of constant A++ grades be torn down before his very eyes had that final actually been difficult. But Yaga had, mercifully, decided to go easy on them this time - and Gojo should have been able to ace this exam in his sleep.
Which was quite difficult for him to pull off such a feat when he found himself unable to think about anything but you.
Well, given, that wasn’t exactly an outlandish state-of-mind for him.
Though, usually it’s more along the lines of how ridiculous it was that you thought you’d top Yaga’s Dean’s List instead of him, how your essay wasn’t even that great (okay, maybe it was- but his was better!), or wondering whether it was part of your strategy to look so gorgeous that you distract the entire department into failing.
But today - even right now - all he could wonder about was how ah, question number five- you’d wrapped all five of your pretty lil’ fingers around his cock.
How soft they were, how perfect they looked pumping his painfully hard girth and fuck- soon enough he was blessed with a half-chubbed dick tightening his pants, and a muddled brain that’d already started writing his answer about you, your damn hands, and you.
Fuck, he could feel his skin flaring at the mere memory again.
“Goddammit-” He’s grinding the backs of his molars until he’s tasting metal, staring at the empty lined paper that would usually have been filled and stapled to the backs of his final. “Goddammit.”
And then Gojo stands- so abruptly that several blissfully ignorant students recoil at the sudden movement from their stoic classmate. Papers flying, usual backpack left behind.
It’s as if a storm, the steps leading him the row or two further up the lecture hall groan and protest at Gojo’s stomping. Closer to where you were - with your face in your hands, and your expression harrowed as if you’d just seen a ghost.
“You.” He’s starting, rumbling voice low.
You wince at the sound, as if only just noticing the man towering up to you. Settling your widened eyes off of your…curiously blank sheets of extra paper, only to stare up at Gojo and grimace again. “You.”
And any and all irritation regarding the little predicament you’d put him in vanishes as he realizes.
You failed that test, too.
SLAM!
Two roughened hands of his strike down on your table to lean in so close, the rows surrounding you two hushing so quiet that you could hear every single one of Gojo’s ragged breaths. Close.
So, so close.
You’re counting every single white lash of his, every spike of pale blue in his sapphire irises, every glint in his snarl. So close that your nose tingles with the perfume of that familiar sultry vanilla.
He watches, expressionless, as your thighs squeeze together beneath you. Shit.
“Y-you.” Gojo’s voice was rough, as hoarse as if he was trying to keep something deep and dark out of it. “Tonight. My dorm.” Risking a glance around the nosy rest of the hall, his face burns at the unsuccessful way they were pretending not to be listening. “For…studying.”
A wolf whistle rings through the tense air— “Get a room!”
“They’re about to~”
“I knew this would happen.”
“Please keep talking to a minimum, some students are taking extra time on the test.” Yaga’s bored drone shatters the mirth - only to heighten it by twofold just as soon as Gojo feels the slightest hint of relief. “Please keep flirting to a minimum, too.”
And then he turns back to you and you wink.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
.
.
.
“Oh-ohhh mm, Gojo–” Your head throws back against the carpet of Gojo’s stifling bedroom, your lips gluing together with strands of spit as soon as he kisses your inner thigh and salivates. Mouth churning with wads of spit ready to devour you-
“Satoru.”
“Wh-what?” It takes you every ounce of strength in your sprawled-out body to question in response.
Head lurching just the slightest few degrees to gaze upon the way he was stuffed nose-deep between your legs - glasses, cocky grin and all.
Gojo takes the lecherous time to perk his flared nostrils over and sniiiiff–! the aroma of your wetness, his overeager maw spilling a thin trail of spittle at the saccharine-sweet scent of your dripping pussy. “Call me- hah! Satoru.”
Shit- how did you even get here?
Skirt and blouse off, needy.
It’s as if one second you’re explaining (quite ashamedly, mind you) how your plan had backfired and you’d bombed that test, sputtering as Gojo rolls his eyes knowingly. And the next…
Spank! You don’t have to look down to already feel the twisted curl of Gojo’s smirk against your thighs, one of his hands soothing across where he’d oh-so-rudely spanked the right of your ass cheek.
“Zoning out already? Your Bartholin gland is working overtime to lubricate.” He hums, the frigid metal frames leaving your hips squirming. Tilting his head, “You’re wet.”
“Y-you wish-” You’re huffing and puffing despite the way you’re smearing your legs even more widely agape with primal need. Just begging him for something, anything, with each squelching wave of slick pouring from between your pussylips.
Gojo leaves one kiss near your cute belly button, another on the hemline of your clingy panties.
Mwah, mwah– soft, puckered lips trace allll over except where you were aching for him the most. He’s snickering at through a hot gasp once the sharp edges of his teeth snag on the forefront of your underwear and let it snap! back.
“Think you’re soooo fuckin’ smart, huh?” Gojo spits, furiously. “Always so intelligent- so smug.” Dragging the crescent nubs of his fingernails down the sides of your body–
Tearing down your panties, flopping through the crevice of your folds to give you just a singular push of his miry tongue. Just a singular kiss, a singular snog of his flattened muscle slapping down on your entrance. “Let’s see how s-smart you really are, then, miss valedictorian.”
And despite the way he’s running his mouth, his tongue sings a different tune. Just like jelly- shyly wobbling on the puffy outside of your pussylips and lapping up gulp after gulp of your sap.
He was parched- and couldn’t help but tickle your cunt like a man thirsting for years. Thirsting for years, and yet, he couldn’t help the way he’s slouching back slightly on his knees with a burning blush–
“Y-you’re only saying that because-” He jolts at the sudden rut of your hips, sending a slobbering stroooke straightly down your slit. “-because you can’t handle anything else.”
Gojo quirks a cloudy brow, “Anything…oh.”
And though it pained a carnal part of you to - though your pussy was quivering in protest - you find your arm reaching out to grab the prim collar of Gojo’s white sweater and traaawl him all the way up. “Wan’ you in my hah- mouth, Satoru.”
“Ngh–” He’s nibbling his plush bottom lip to bite back a fucking whine– and the moment that slight smirk starts twitching your lips, Gojo scoops your legs up in a surprisingly strong hold.
Big, beefy arms lifting you in midair and throwing you down on the bed. You yelp as you bounce- he’s careless, desperate, the only thing he needs right now is to have you on his bed. On his mouth-
“Th-think I can’t handle a b-blow- fellatio, huh?”
He’s grumbling as he lays himself flatly on the cushy mattress, letting those navy sheets be rumpled once he’s sitting back sexily. And you’re almost wishing you could turn yourself around and ogle that handsome vision settling right between your legs.
“Oh- oh.” Gojo mouths gapes as he really - really takes in the sight of you. All sopping wet and needy for him. Shuddering steadily in and out to regain his breath in some way, “Oh my god- fuck, what a prettyyy pussy.”
“H-hnghh, fuck–” Your mouth drops once large palms spread-spread-spreeead your cheeks apart and let your dewdropped slick drip! down into his throat.
Shivering, every time his claggy breath stroked your pried-open entrance. Leaving a wide, hot open-mouthed kiss right where Gojo could spy your glistening hole winking.
You were just a three-course meal sitting above him. And he was ready to crane his neck and diiive–
ZIIIIIIP–!
“Shit- princess, what are you- fuck!”
Your grin grows when you stagger off Gojo’s plaid pants and let his reddened, swollen cock hit your chin with a plap! “Whaaat–?”
He was standing tall, proud.
Soooo many swollen, throbbing inches standing up rock-hard n’ straight just from the mere idea of having your saccharine pussy on his mouth.
Thighs trembling where you were straddling his head, fuck, if Gojo was in any better state of mind he’d have registered the way your syrupy pussy grows wetter. “Scared?”
He blushes- he keens, mindlessly bucking his hips to chase the heat of your mouth. “N-no. It’s a perfectly normal reaction to sexual stimulation-”
“You talk too much.”
“Then…”
You’re whimpering, your spine bowing into the perfect curvature once Gojo claws a firm handful of your ass and pulls you to him to kiss your pretty pussy. “Get up here.” Letting the thickened air ring with the smack of his glossy lips gluing to your outer folds, “Get up- get up here so that I can fucking show you, miss valedictorian.”
And he might have absolutely zero experience - but that didn’t mean that Gojo wasn’t hungry.
He’s not waiting around for you to tease him to death with your sweet, puckered lips. No- he’s tugging you down his lengthy body and latching ‘round the nub of your clit first.
“She- she’s the clit, huh?”
“Sh-shit…oh my ngh- Satoru!”
Tittering, “Course she is- located at the top of the vulva and responsible f-for connecting the network of erectile tissue. And she has you alll stupid.”
Your treacly cunt was giving him the cutest lil’ welcome by pouring a wave of sticky slick right down his chin, he’s sliding the wetness against the innards of your squeezing thighs and pushing himself nose-deep.
Glasses cluttering, vein-decorated forearms flexing. “How’s that–?” Endlessly listing off the three-hundred different ways to toy with your sensitive clit, he’s swervin’ the glazed point of his tongue in cute hearts. Groaning into your pussy, “Mmmm– your turn- o-oh fuck!”
And you weren’t just teasing him, you were simply waiting for the perfect moment to plop your saturated mouth in a clammy smooch over Gojo’s round, smooth cockhead.
Lapping the narrowed margin of your tongue to rim that split-end on his tip, your tastebuds scorch with the warm cream of his pre. Buttering up your flat muscles as you jerk your head and draaaag a long, languid lick. “What’s that?”
Letting out the cutest pitched ‘fuck!’, Gojo bucks his hips to plunge between your hot maw with a wet fwop!
Hissing, “I was mistaken, your mouth is heaven.”
Gulping him deeper-
“Haaaah- wait.” It’s like he’s easing and then back- too much for his sensitive, inexperienced cock. “Stimulating my c-cock with a tongue so good. Now that’s- that’s just fucking- unfair-”
Spanking your cunt with a splatter of wadded saliva before teething his canines along your clit and pinching. Groaning right into that mess, “Unfair- th-that’s unfair- fuck! Shit, how do you make everything feel so good- You always do hafta ch-cheat, huh?”
He has to battle with himself not to cum right then and there.
But he wasn’t going down without a fight.
You’re just starting to lavish your silky tongue over the sensitive veins snaking along his meaty base, chin tickling with curly white hairs- when Gojo wraps an arm around your waist and pulls—
“Wh-who’s cheating now?”
“And who do ya think you are?” Gojo pleads- he strains. Your body being slightly bumped up n’ down like a rollercoaster after each heave of his broad pectorals.
And just playing with your clit wasn’t enough, he needed to use his inhuman strength to make you rest your entire weight. “Just- sit–” Throat hatching with lilting groans once your mouth is sliiiding sensually down his pink shaft. Gojo’s speaking between French kisses to your cunt, grunting like it hurt him to break off.
And even though he’s practically still closed, you swear you could count every one of his eight, ladder-like abs.
“But I could ngh- suffocate-”
Rutting- deep back into your mouth till his bawling mushroom tip swabs the very back of your throat. “So? Then it’ll be my ngh- first and last time. Respiration is overrated, just- fucking- sit.”
Yelping, it’s all you can do to claw your nails down each of Gojo’s thick, milky thighs once he grabs onto your body and slams you down on his readily awaiting mouth.
“Fuck- fuck!” Eyes widened, tone crazed. He doesn’t know where to look when he’s slobbering his heated mouth in dragging licks up and down between your puffed-up folds, occasionally peeking inside your fluttering hole and giving your ring of muscle a sloooow stretched-out circle.
Gojo slaps the velvety underside of his tongue down on your sensitive entrance and watches as your syrupy slick pooours. “Don’t know how long I-I’ve dreamt of this, princess-”
“Y-you have?”
Though, it comes out gurgled and half-moaned around the fattened circumference of Gojo’s pulsating, long cock. He was just so big that you’d barely even slid his heavy shaft down halfway until he’s probing your throat thoroughly.
Fattened balls tightened once he speaks, “You- have- nooooo fucking idea-” Punctuated with heavy, slashing strokes of his tongue.
You’re damn near sobbing at the sheer surprisingly strength of his - the pleasure. Gojo was technical in his approach, a snagging lil’ circle to make your hole stretch cutely- before gifting himself a looong lick from the base of your pussy right up to your clit.
“Every time before a test- e-every time after. Ngh- every time someone would l-look at you in those pretty skirts and- fuuuuck! wanted to fuck that damn mouth shut every time you’d insult me. Every time- made you wanna scream.”
Swiping his simmering tastebuds down with circles. Hearts. Something that felt like an S–
“Tha’s right- goood girl, you got that one right.” He’s piping up from between your dampened inner thighs. Fucking you with his tongue just the way his weighty cock was bawling and begging to fuck you.
And it takes you one more sweltering kiss, two more until you’re lifting your mouth back off of Gojo’s fat cock in realization- did you just say that out loud?
“Mhmm—” Gojo answers, voice breaking with a slight whine at the loss of heat. Promptly, you’re pushing your hips back to ride his mouth shut and gawking at the way it makes his shaft twitch wildly. Like a madman, he’s rutting up to capture your sweet, sweet lips once more-
“Th-think I like it better when you- ngh-” You somehow manage to get out through sappy wet bobs of your mouth, every squelch! drawn out by the suction of your hollowed lips deafening in his cozy bedroom. You start to feverishly pump the solid inches of his you couldn’t fit inside, holding onto one side of his muscular glutes for balance. “-when you shut up.”
“N’ you’re better when you have- my-” It was even worse with every buzzzzing vibration of his voice tingling your clit. The bed rickets in unison with your whines as he drills up into your slickened mouth maddeningly, plummy tip scouring your inner cheeks. “-biiig fucking cock in y-your mouth.”
And then Gojo wasn’t just making out with your cunt till he’s pussydrunk- he’s slithering one of his slender, pale fingers until it’s all glazed with a satiny layer of sap and caressing your entrance.
Tenderly, he slips just the thick first pad of it past the tight muscle before you’re clenching- being dragged even further up his face.
“C’mon- c’mon c’mon c’mon please-” Pushing and pushing, he couldn’t handle the singlest bit of resistance unless he wanted to tear up.
The size of his digit is just so looong and nimble enough that Gojo finds himself in awe at the way your snug hole opens up to swallow him eagerly. Crying out bulbous tears of sap, you’re just arching your back and taking every one thrust. Two. Three. Four–
Swatting your clit with the pointed fringe of his chin, he’s flopping his tongue over in a textured pattern on top of your perky clit. One that makes you gasp— “A? A?”
“Mhmm—” Teething your swollen folds at the grooving tickle of his prominent middle veins on the roof of your mouth, the way you’re announcing everything he spells is just so hot that Gojo bucks until you choke. “Next-”
Struggling, flowing so much damper at the muscles of his front. God- he was sooo fucking fit. Using every ounce to push– “Mmpf- ngh-” Mouth so full that your cheeks bulge, “J?”
“What’s that? Wha’s that?” Gojo almost throws his head back into the bedsprings and chuckles. “Miss vale-hah! valedictorian can’t even spell-” Toying the mushy tip of his tongue over your clit again, “What’s that?”
“T- please. Not gonna last-”
“Mmmm–” He’s so close now that you could feel the cold press of his glasses, all drenched at this point. Even more so when Gojo adds in a third finger and lets it just graze the splotchy area of your g-spot.
“Sa-toru, your glasses-”
He didn’t even care. He didn’t even need them at this point.
“Use the momentum of your hips. Move. Ride.”
In three different ways. Riding him exactly how he wanted you to in languid, slobbering drags and he’s never been more in heaven. The nubs of your hardened nipples rubbin’ all sensitive through your bra where Gojo manhandles you to glissade down his tensed core.
His throbbing shaft twitching and striking the roof of your mouth, he’s getting fervent. Burning hot. “Aww- pretty princess is all dumb. What’s- that?”
His tongue’s so dexterous that even your hazed mind can make out each syllable, each letter. Faster. Harder. “O- ngh! S’an O-” Trembling palms cupping his balls, “R- M’so fucking close.”
And you could already guess the next looping drag of his tongue. The precise syllable on your tongue once you’re throwing your head back and shattering– “U- You- fuck! Satoru–!” You didn’t even have to try to open your mouth and let the wadded ribbon of saliva dangle off from it.
Striking Gojo’s veiny shaft and making him buck-
“That’s it- nghhh- c’mon, princess, scream my name.”
“Saaa–toru. C-cummin- ngh.” You don’t even have the privilege of finishing your damn sentence before he’s plopping in four of his prolonged fingers and making your wave of euphoria burst.
So hard that your vision dots with pure white. You’re leaking from both your maw and your fluttering eyelids now, “P-please.” Mouth flooded with so many whimpers and torrents of slobber. You’re so far thrust into your blissful high that you don’t even realize you’ve stuck the first few inches of Gojo’s spit-glazed cock inside your watered mouth.
“Yeah- yeahhh what do ya want?”
“C-cum.”
“Hmm–?”
Shoveling right inside like your favorite pinkish ice cream once you’re peeking over your shoulder and mumbling– “C-cum, Toru–”
And there it was - that did it.
You, saying his first name. Like that.
The only thing more it takes before creeps his sweaty palm over the crown of your skull and pushes- straight down. Straight full of his lengthy, rummaging fat cock, until your nose nuzzles the slight fuzz of silky white at the base.
Eyes sprinting to the back of your head, your throat gets all clogged-up with his throbbing inches before he fills it up even further.
Oh, oh- you never thought you could ever be so damn full.
It’s as if he’s torn apart your throat and was probin’ the curve of his bulging mushroom tip right into the base of your lungs. Flooding it up with sploshing wires of stringy cum, pumping and pumping each ribbon until it’d formulated a buttery frosting everywhere he could reach.
“O-ohhh fuck- nghhhh fuck-” Bottomed-out, yet pushing down even further. “Y-you…”
With a splattering bubble of drool that trickles from the rosy corner of his lips- Gojo couldn’t even clearly see from his tear-shattered vision, and yet, he was staring dead-on at your relaxed throat.
Mindlessly, the sensory tip of his index traces that bulging cylindrical outline being fucked against the underside of your neck. Dooown all nine inches. Gojo jostles your weakened knees apart and lets his overspilling cock dab the corners and crevices of your hot mouth.
The bloated, flaring ridge of his slit moving it all over. Breathlessly giggling, “You really- really t-took it ngh- all…you- oh.” Heavy, pink balls tightening as if he could cum again- “How’s that, little miss valedictorian?”
You swallowed.
“S’that…all you got?”
And he couldn’t get enough.
It was just too adorable how your snarky mouth was hoarse n’ all spellbound by the time Gojo slides his veined cock a few more vulgar times down your tongue and pulls out with a plop!
“Ngh- T-Toru-”
“Shiiit- don’t call me that- fuuuck don’t call me- oh.” He couldn’t even speak. The polished frames of his glasses nearly dangling off, Gojo manhandles your boneless body around to sit prettily on his manspread lap.
To admire you properly.
And all it takes is that singular glimpse of you.
That clouded vision of you above him - your eyes glassy with a film of lust, mouth sopping wet with milky wads of seed that drip! drip! drip! down between his toned pecs.
Your fucked-out hips glissading back down the uprightly laid length of his girth - over every vein, every ridge - with a whine-
And the man damn near loses it.
He’s whining, bucking- his feet planting up to gyrate his hot cock against your skin like he was aching for more. “Need it.” You’re almost startled as two of Gojo’s palms latch onto your hips and make you push, “Please- I mean- fuck.” Shit, he couldn’t stop himself from babbling pussdrunkenly.
That carnal urge pulsing from his bulging tip to push deeply inside you.
You’re feeling Gojo swell up even fatter - even harder - behind the cheeks of your ass and find yourself pushing back with a greedy pap! of skin-on-skin. “Don’t tell me…”
“Shut up.” Kissing you, he tastes salted caramel and nearly cums again.
Lecherous grin growing even wider, you break off. “Awww—” Your previous dazed state slowly fading with the last few tingles of your orgasm, “Wittle Toru’s first time?”
“Shut up.”
He’s straining his neck and snapping his jaw with a click! Honed canines threatening the fragile skin of your nipples, you’re pushing back on his feverish flesh.
Gojo looked so pretty like this that you just couldn’t help it - all stinging, red cheeks, and your pussy slicking a gooey lustre that plasters from his dripping chin all the way to damn near the tips of his ears.
Puddling.
“No need to worry.” You shove on his blushing collarbones with a whimper, his cock was so hard that it hurt. “I’ll be ngh- gentle, Satoru, so oh- fuck!”
But Gojo Satoru didn’t wait this long to be fucking gentle.
No- just like the way he’s longed to whenever you always got so close, so fiery shutting him up during arguments - Gojo thrusts the big, bulging tip of his cock between your swollen folds and pushes.
His first.
Finding his muscular thighs trembling, mouth parting, pupils rolling until all you could see was the pure white of his eyes. Something dark and primal breaks at the back of his ravaged throat, “O-oh.” And he’s gasping with the effort to compose himself- to say something snarky.
But all Gojo can do is hold onto the girthy base of his shaft and let it drip with a glaze of syrupy pre. Mouth opening n’ closing, breath catching.
“Wait- you’re so-” Bucking his hips just the slightest inch off the dampened sheets and letting it slide pointedly along your walls. “-y-you’re so soft- and warm. And ngh- nghhh fuck! Th-this is what the adventitia- what your pretty pussy feels like?”
Watery eyes widening once you nod, “Th-then m’neeever pulling out. Your lamina propria’s gonna mold to my cock, miss valedictorian.”
Cooing, he hastily tugs off his cottony sweater, fumbling once the syrupy pool of slick you’d leaked all over his neckline makes it stick to his skin like an adhesive. And oh- fuck.
You’d felt every line and shapely curve of Gojo’s chiseled abs down your front. Hell, you could still feel the way your tummy was aching with the stinging ridges of him pressed up against you- and yet, it still doesn’t prepare you for just how sexily toned your smug rival was.
All naturally muscular edges of his broad shoulders, and his ivory happy trail was wobbling with the bumps of his abs. All flexing. All tense.
All heated against your naked thighs as he grips your ass cheeks and pushes you down, down, down–
“Ngh…oh– Toru!”
“S-soooo sweet.” Voice hitching, he’s squinting his eyes cutely in pleasure at that silken, soft hug of your walls. You’re shaping around his thickly barreling length so tight that he’s roughly handling you to lift up and down- up and down. Deeper. “So ngh- so much better than that…PocketPussy3000 I named after ya, princess.”
And you would be snarking back- teasing him, had it not been for the way that Gojo was so fucking big that he made your mind stupidly dizzy.
“B-big?” Gojo croaks out from underneath you- oh, shit, you’d said that out loud. Again. “Am I…” Drifting his glassy eyes downwards to watch where your puffy pussylips were bulging whilst struggling to take him. “-really that big?”
Biting down on the insides of your cheek as you lie, “N-no.”
Experimentally, Gojo gives another feral rut. Watching as your pretty eyes nearly bulge out of your head, your maw falling ajar into a perfect ‘o’.
He’s fucking up into you with his massive cock and barely even trying to dig the smooth, left-leaning curve of his achy girth into your every nook and cranny. Veins bloated up so wide that they carve a zig-zagged pattern against your tight channel after every ba-dump–!
Gojo really was that big.
“H-heh.” Octaves higher, wild. He’s chuckling as if he still couldn’t even believe it when Gojo’s right hand creeps up the side of your hips to press down on your tummy.
“Mmm– hck! If you’re gonna press there, Satoru-”
“Why? S’a biiig stretch for the poor stratified squamous epithelium isn’t it?” Feeling himself with the edges of his ravenous, long digits as he sliiiides in- rocking n’ rocking upwards against your snug resistance. Speaking over the creaky bedcoils, “Say it- tell me.”
Arms rested upon his flexing deltoids, you throw your head back after each solid inch he was blowing your cunt up with. Until it felt like your walls were being snagged on to the maximum, “B-big-”
“Nuh uh, princess- biiiig stretch. Say it w’me now-”
“Big- ngh!” You’re fighting against Gojo’s sloppy cadence from behind you to roll your hips back onto his trembling thighs. Deeper. Deeper. “Biiig stretch–”
“That’s right—” Oh, you’ve never been more irresistible to him. And Gojo’s palm massages the bumpin’ bulge being pounded against your tummy, until you can feel every crease of his palm lines. It makes his filthy mouth salivate to feel the stretch inside as you keep swallowing his cock deeper. “Again now- nghhh- biiig stretch.”
“Biiiig stretch- oh, fuck!”
Just about the only thing you can do is spit out a string of swears when Gojo bottoms out and hits the base of your pussy with a sharp spank!
Tendrils of white rubbin’ your outer pussy raw, the circumference of his length bullying inside to stretch your hole into such a cute oh! The exact same shape that your mouth was turning into right now, “Please- fuck mmm–”
Squelches! ring out after every springy bounce you plant on Gojo’s length, your calves burning with the sheer effort it takes to smooch your puckered ring over his tip and slide, slide, slide all the way down to his hilt.
Breathing out in a pant, “Oh, you’ve taken all of me- all of me? Seriously- fuck!” Gojo lets his inexperienced hips drive all the way upwards in carnal, uncontrolled ruts. “Tha’s just right- fuh-fuck back t’me like that mmm-”
“Getting hck! really cocky–” You’re biting, your overworked pussy quivering as you clench. “-Toru.”
And oh, that makes him shatter.
Hips mindless, head flopping backwards, mouth opening with the prettiest, more pornographic whine. You’d just made the Gojo Satoru whine with your pussy.
His drunken gaze only half-opening to stare at you through dilated eyes, glasses completely fogged-up and useless now that you’re roughly riding him. Smart mouth babbling, “D-don’t think you’re- winning–”
It was a competition even now.
Like a race to who could get the other to break first, he’s matching your papping cadence and even more. And through the tears clung to your lashes, you’re spying the way that Gojo’s v-line was swollen n’ red with slamming contact.
Your hand glissading down his sweat-glistening skin to trace his sensitive abs, “Oh yeah? And you think- hck-” Another sluuurping clench, another topple of his head. His sanity. “-y-you’re winning?”
“Still haven’t found the mmm– Gräfenberg spot yet, princess.” He’s smirking, one hand rested upon your right ass cheek to keep on stirrin’ his rummaging length in swivels inside of you. The other thumbing over your neglected clit in the meantime, muttering. “Anterior wall under the urethra…roughly hnghhh– this many inches deep and part of the sensitive clitoral network…”
His split-ending, bawling cocktip probes your glossy walls like a spotlight. Your g-spot being the bullseye that he’s targeting dead on. Grinning.
“-here.”
Precisely, you feel the heat of his prominent spherical cockhead drive up n’ down the entire length of that sensitive bundle of nerves. Digging the curve of his shaft generously into where you saw stars-
“Who’s winning hck! what now?”
Sloppily kissing him, just to quieten the man down. “Oh- sh-shut up.”
“Hm…” Gojo’s accurate whack! of his girth against your g-spot lets off the loudest, most lecherous squeeeelch. And he’s proddin’ his sensitive slit against your cervix just to feel it, “Can you shut up when I fuck you like- this-”
You can’t.
Mewling, your knees hit halt and wedge the swollen n’ aching nub of your clit against his supple palm. Letting his skin streak a good rub over where your core was painfully needy, “Y-you grew bigger.”
“Hmmm–?”
You’re riding him craaaazy with your hips, pussy walls clinging onto his slick cock so tightly that you’re rendered weak with every vein. Every throb. Every growth of his shaft pounding even fatter until you could barely even clench-
Bigger. Harder. Tongue slathering with a glaze of syrupy spit, “B-big– got ngh! bigger.”
“What’s that? What’s thaaaat?” His pummeling dick scouring down your walls, erupting in a proud splosh of rich precum at that cute lil’ compliment. “Bigger? Heh- my princess ngh likes, big- don’tcha?”
At this point you’re driven wild, your dewy pupils circlin’ around the insides of your eye comically. Mouth hanging open with stupid little ‘oh’s’ and ‘yesses.’
Gojo narrows his eyes once you start blubbering, bashing his tip extra hard into your g-spot so that he could have you fully dumb on his cock. “Mmm– c’mon, miss valedictorian.” Lips twitching, “Use your big girl words.”
“Hngh- hard-”
“Yeahhh– m’pretty fucking- hard- huh?”
“Harder.”
Oh- it’s a wonder he didn’t cum right then- shit, Gojo thinks he almost is.
A thin, ropey string of hot seed that hits your womb the moment he’s flattening his feet on the cushion of the bed to thrash a mean thwack! onto your spongy cervix.
Digging his geysering divot so deep against the bottom of your glutinous cunt that he grits his teeth and plugs his weepy crown shut.
Trying not to cum- praying not to cum, “Harder? Harder?” Repeated in such a high, unsteady pitch. His dazed eyes peeking over his glasses and widening, “My girl wants it harder?”
Nodding, “Please, Toru– m’soooo close.”
“Then- greedy fucking- girl- better- take it.” And he wasn’t just pummeling your poor pussy, he was pummeling it like a madman. You could practically see the rippling of his muscular body, sheer power that was being channeled into each thrust.
Each strike. Each damp smooch with your g-spot.
You didn’t even realize you were clawing at his shoulders in an attempt to crawl away until his left hand pushes down on your sweat-matted scalp.
Holding your face still, Gojo watches every cute minute reaction of yours as he goes hard. Then slow. Then sloppy. Alternating his pace until you’re sure you’ve memorized the patterns of his hammering veins on each side. “N’ that means nghh- nooo running away.”
“No runnin’-” Babbling through tears, every strike makes your brain spin. “Not gonna last- nghh fuck…not gonna last, Toru.”
“Swallowing my cock so much- S’this what you wanted after every hah- argument? Every time you yelled? Filthy giiirl, shoulda just asked.”
And Gojo was murmuring such filth into your ear that you can’t help but shrill– “Let me cum- ngh- let me cum-”
“Tch- demanding.”
“Please-”
“Better…how about ‘pretty pl–’ oh fuck.”
Before he can revel in his victory, before he can tease you any further - you’re reaching one of your jittery hands behind your back and palming at Gojo’s tight, aching ballsack. Tracing your sultry touch just where he was red n’ raw with the slamming impact of your ass.
Hips speeding up, creaking getting louder.
“Oh hah- haaaa–” Gojo tosses his head back and bucks- bucks and bucks and bucks as if he was trying to milk your orgasm sooner. Rovering thumb pressing down on your clit like his favorite button, “Cheater, cheater~”
You didn’t know who was off worse - you who was drooling out a sappy puddle after every repeated three slams of his cock each passing second. Letting your droopy body be manhandled into bouncing in a S-A-T-O-R-U that you’re not even sure Gojo realizes he’s making you spell out.
Didn’t even register. Didn’t even know.
Or Gojo who was trembling with every squeeze of your gushing walls, frantically letting his glasses slide off even further so that he wasn’t hypnotized and on the verge of losing just by watching you ride him dry.
You’re too hot to handle.
A perk that you’re immediately abusing as you push his glasses cleanly back onto his nosebridge n’ smudge away the misted fog.
“Ngh f-fuck–” Chin hitting your sweaty chest once he’s manoeuvering you into a wiiiide O to muddle together the letters of his name. Claiming your pretty pussy. Claiming him. “-fuck you, Satoru.”
Gojo leans in closer with puckered lips, close enough to kiss. “I’m fucking you, princess.” To shut you up while sucking on your tongue while it hits.
And Gojo’s so caught up in every movement of your body that he doesn’t even realize he’s finishing off in such a wet, voluminous way until it’s dripping out of you. Mouth parting, “O-oh…”
Your own orgasm takes over your body like a wave, being suddenly hit with strikes of white-hot pleasure that send goosebumps trailing down your spine. Every push of Gojo’s slick shaft feels so good that it makes your vision flash white, whimpering each time his slimy mushroom tip was kissin’ your sweetest spots.
“Cumming–” You’re calling out belatedly, hips creaming yourself on his. “I’m– oh.”
“H-heh.” And Gojo was actually giggling- giggling. Faintly noting the hot-headed mess that was his brain right now, he could only flutter his long lashes at each spike of pleasure and stare.
Ogling the way your puffy pussylips were gulping after every streak of his cum, the creamy white mess pouring out into you until your womb felt heavy.
Over and over he’s thrusting inside, making- almost forcing his cock to pour out every drop. Every ounce until it was dry.
Showered, sloppy wads of seed plastered across your hole, you could feel the pearly mess dangling out of you each time your cunt hit his pelvis. Formulating a ring of syrupy cum that made Gojo just swallow past his parched throat, “I win.”
“No.” You’re huffing. Stubborn, even as you’re sagging down until your face was cushioned by his pecs, perking your hips to milk out his last few dredges until Gojo was cumming dry. “I win-”
Dry- you’d made him cum dry.
Humping upwards so that oodles of sap would slip down your cervix and make you shudder. Both your popped ears buzzing with the splat! of cobwebbed cum that glues down your thighs. “Nuh uh, princess. I totally won that.”
“Hngh- yuh uh.”
“Nuh-”
And maybe you were the least drunken of the two, because you’re the only one with enough murky sense right now to put an end to the endless argument.
Shutting Gojo Satoru up for once in his life by reaching your hand over to dig underneath his navy pillow - searching for that glint of something you’re sure you’d caught in your lustful haze moments prior.
He can only lay beneath you and blush and blush once you pull out…that.
The PocketPussy3000 he’d named after you– the very same one he’d fuck up into night after long, lonely night thinking about his damn “rival.”
Fuck…he should’ve known the valedictorian wouldn’t forget.
“Named after me, huh? Cute.”
Indignantly pushing up his frames, “Wh-what is the meaning of this-”
“Let’s consider it a tie.” You croon, in that exact tone he knew was dangerous. And his brainy suspicions are proven correct when, the very next moment, you’re pulling yourself off of him with a dampened pop!
Letting a stream of ivory creamy swoosh down below to sheen his pale thighs - Gojo has never looked prettier, you think.
“Oh- oh my god…ngh- oh my god, princess.”
The apples of his cheeks scorching, mouth gaping, tired n’ thoroughly overstimulated pink cock flinching when you hover that rubbery toy over. Letting off a sopping slurp as you start to bully his reddened tip between the folds and jerk him off– “Round two?”
.
.
.
“It can’t be-”
“So that last time seriously wasn’t about studying?”
“You owe me five thousand yen.”
And you swear you’re catching about half the class and Yaga himself exchanges betting pools of money the very moment you and Gojo enter the lecture hall. Together. Hand-in-hand.
Fuck- was your rivalry really that infamous?
Because Gojo’s fingers weave even tighter with yours as you pass by countless stares, numerous cellphones out to take paparazzi shots of the markings on your neck that you’re sure will end up on some sort of campus bulletin board by the end of the hour.
Ah, maybe you should’ve done one of those ‘soft-launches’ first…
Too late for that, you think, seated at your usual spot on one of the first few rows and wearily watches as Yaga happily counts the spoils of his bet.
Sneaking a glance at your gloomy boyfriend, you try not to snicker- not only did he receive a stupendous second placement on the last exam, tied with you, it’s as if every single person here blatantly couldn’t tear their eyes off of his hunched, blushing figure.
Nervously pushing his glasses up to his bangs– “Maybe we should ah…‘cut class’ as they call it, princess-”
“So-” There’s a slamming weight of a strong forearm on your shoulder, ringed fingers possessive - and another one on Gojo’s - that could only mean one person. “Unless my milkshake was spiked again, I take it that the scheme- I mean, study session went well? Even though I did get first place on our last final.”
Before you can answer, Geto’s husky voice heats up your ear, low. Dangerous. “Y’know, I hear this next assignment’s a…group project.”
A/N. Hehehe I MISSED Nerdjo so I just had to…
Plagiarism not authorized.
More Posts from Ara-ara-bitch and Others
𝐬𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧!𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
full fics:
after all this time - six years ago, when they placed that sorting hat on your head, nobody expected for it to assign the muggleborn to the slytherin house, but it did. six years later, you find yourself as alone as the day you walked through those doors. little did you expect the prince of slytherin, the pureblood maniac himself, gojo satoru, to be the one to coincidentally fill your empty hours.
always - you try to make sense of everything after that night with gojo satori, the Slytherin prince, but as much as you try to run away from it, it seems to follow you more. but he has to hate you for it, right? that could be the only explanation for why he seeks you out...right? (part two of after all this time, 18+)
drabbles:
slytherin!gojo and where all it begins
slytherin!gojo at a slytherin party
slyhterin!gojo sees you in the muggle world
how slytherin!gojo reacts to somebody else taking you to a ball
when slytherin!gojo lies about the train being full so he could sit next to you
slytherin!gojo being petty when another guy talks to you
when you go flying with slytherin!gojo
aftermath of flying with him
slytherin!gojo tag (everything to do with him)
im parched
撒呀呀_ on Weibo
https://m.weibo.cn/status/5065871837630431
<OFFICIAL COMMISSION MADE BY LOVE AND DEEPSPACE>
nah cause my dumbass remembered the Closure pt.2 fic WHICH IM CANNONICALLY IN MY BRAIN WILL BE THE PART TWO OF THIS FIC
A Love Not Meant to Be Pt. 2: Albedo
Notes: SUPER LONG parts so I broke them up into sections + paired music/songs :)
Summary: Some things in life just aren’t meant to be + angst tropes.
Warning/s: Heartbreak, one-sided relationship, angst
Theme/s: Angst, no comfort, heartbreak, emotional/naive reader
Characters: Albedo
Parts: Kaeya, Kazuha
Albedo: One Sided Affections
(Mr. Loverman by Ricky Montgomery)
You tried your best. You really did. In every relationship you had, it seemed that you always came off as ‘too strong’. They are always reasoning that ‘you felt too much’. You couldn’t help it- you were very emotional and tried your best to show your lovers how much you truly appreciated them. That’s what you do in a relationship, right? You were naive at that time- full of hope and passion for others that you were always so enthusiastic when an opportunity to love another person came at your doorstep. However, that was you before. Your passion burned out when you met the Chief Alchemist, Albedo.
Sometimes you think that relationships weren’t meant for you- that things you start just don’t last. When you met Albedo, you’d just gotten out of a pretty rough relationship and swore to yourself that you’ll never ever try to go into the dating scene again. That was until you needed some materials crafted from Sucrose, and you were met instead by Albedo who was more than happy to do it for you. You were enthralled by the Chief Alchemist; his beauty, his peculiarity, the way he moved and worked were ever so calculated and graceful. His voice was gentle and soft, his manner was something you’ve never seen before in a person. What got to you was the way he treated you. Albedo was kind, polite, and cordial. Professionalism aside, there was a certain charm he had when he would approach you for questions about the materials- the smile on his pretty lips and the glimmer in his sky-blue eyes. You’ve fallen again.
It wasn’t clear how Albedo reciprocated your feelings. You found yourself beginning to visit his lab more often for materials and alchemy advice until that turned into casual chats and then something more than friendly. It was until you brought up the prospect of dating that Albedo seemed to perk up and smile lightly to himself.
“I suppose it wouldn’t be too bad of an idea.” was all he said and you had your answer. You jumped straight into the opportunity. If it meant that you had a chance at love- if it meant that you finally had something that’s yours and yours alone. What you didn’t know then was that Albedo was only answering your question. He didn’t think you’d ask him to be with you, nor did he get enough time to think it through; but when he saw your hopeful eyes, begging for a yes, he didn’t have the heart to say no.
Albedo knew you were the most expressive and passionate person in Mondstadt. He could see it from the way you bounded up to him and how your eyes shine when you see him. It seemed that you were always shining. You were so happy around him, always joyful when visiting his lab or even helping with watching Klee. Albedo, however, didn’t feel the same ardor you had for him. But he would be a monster if he ever thought of hurting your feelings and he couldn’t bear the thought of breaking your heart. You were too kind to be put through that again. And so, he stayed for you; trying his best as always and you did too. Little did Albedo know that you knew this- and you still held onto him. You felt guilty, but you couldn’t let this get away from you. You knew well that Albedo didn’t love you, but you haven't felt anything so strong in your life. You adored him and did your best to respect Albedo’s boundaries and constraints- no kisses, no cuddles, no surprise hugs. Maybe the lightest touch of the hand and eye contact. But that’s it. You bore through it, you couldn’t let him go.
It wasn’t like Albedo wasn’t capable of loving- he really did love you. Just not the type of love you had for him. It seems that he doesn’t yet understand the genuine feelings an individual has for someone else. Sure, he was more than aware of human emotions and whatnot but the notion of deeper connections as well as stronger feelings felt somewhat complicated for Albedo. He always thought that the only person he could love, and love him back, was his master. When you came into his life, he didn’t know if it would be betrayal for his creator, or that he couldn’t fathom why he had felt so many things about you. Albedo loved you, yes, but not in a way that you wanted him to. Where you were a spectrum of emotions, Albedo was a man with few feelings.
“I don’t get those types of bonds,” Albedo said once out of the blue. “As much as I’ve seen, they’re all so… trivial.” You wanted to agree then, because it’s what you’ve experienced most of the time, but you wonder if he was talking about the both of you. And so, you stay silent and watch him continue to work on his studies.
If you were being truly honest with yourself- this was bad for you. Worse than it has ever been with those in the past. You tortured yourself with having to constantly keep up that happy-go-lucky attitude to not make Albedo feel bad, and he had to keep up his lovers persona to make you happy. It was a vicious cycle and it was more than clear that you two were unhappy. It came to a boiling point when the burning ache of emotions you kept back broke through when you watched Albedo perform his experiments while you sat at a distance. You cried into your knees and it took a while for Albedo to notice. When he did, he wasn’t surprised. You were known to be an emotional person. When he approached you and touched your head, you sobbed harder- wishing for this interaction so badly on days when you needed him. You look up and at Albedo through a blur of tears, an illusory sheen of adoration you still carry for him, desperate to know that what you had wasn’t one-sided. Albedo was surprised to see you look like this. He’s seen you cry before, but this was different. You looked broken, exhausted, and you were. You loved him but you were tired. Through the many days you’ve spent with him, you carried something more profound for Albedo than those relationships from before. You had a chance to get a glimpse into the deepest parts of someone and Albedo entrusted you with that. He showed you his past, his vulnerability and all the blemishes and imperfections in his beautiful nature. You fell for him hard- too bad he didn’t feel the same.
“Am I really that unlovable?” You ask, voice silent and breaking as you are. Albedo stands there unable to figure you out, but is nevertheless shocked by this revelation. The tone in your voice, the way you’re slumped within yourself, skin warm and heart racing fast. He couldn’t understand any of those. Albedo hasn't felt any of that before, nor has he seen you look so… defeated. So, he inches closer to you and lays your head on his chest, the only form of comfort he can give.
“You aren’t, don’t worry.” Was all he could say. You weren’t convinced, you knew Albedo had little way with things like this, but you could only hide away in the solace of his jacket, his fingers combing through your hair. You sob into him because you know how he looks; that blank expression on his beautiful face, unfeeling, unknowing to the type of emotions that now ran rampant in your veins.
“I just want to be loved,” You say against Albedo, gripping onto the fabric of his coat. He kneels down to face you, eye level with yours and you are surprised to see a look of pity on his features. He really was beautiful- you could fall in love with him all over again.
“And you will be,” Albedo said, taking your warmed face in his cold hands. “By someone better.” You cry more at his words while his fingers wipe away your tears. Choking on air, you grab Albedo’s hands and press them on your lips. He lets you.
“I don’t need better,” You think. “I just need you.” You wanted to tell him this. You wanted so badly to make it work, to salvage your relationship because you felt like you didn’t- couldn’t- want anyone else other than Albedo.
You wanted to tell him: I need you. I need you to be by my side as I wake up every morning, to be there when I make my terrible dinners and for you to smile through each bite. I need you to be the person I can turn to and I’ll do the same for you even if I've never seen you sad. I need you to be the only one I can hold, I can touch, I can kiss. I need you to be with me through the worst days, and you can be my best. I need you to tell me how it feels, how you feel, when you’re in love so I can tell you the same. I need you in my life, to be my life, for as long as it’ll take me. I need you, because I don’t have anything else.
You didn’t say that. As much as your heart thrummed achingly fast in your chest, you could only cry and whisper:
“I want you Albedo, I do, but I can understand if you don’t feel the same.” The guilt finally consumed you and it hurt. What hurt worse than the already impending heartbreak was his reply. Dry and forward, but genuine.
“I’m glad you understand, Y/N.” You feel it then, the mercy of your heart still beating in your chest- then the utter heartbreak that follows as you watch Albedo smile, his cold hands leaving your skin as he turns away and leaves. You didn't have the energy to try and beg for him to come back. Everything in your body ached with no sign of mercy. You thought you could die from the pain and you were somewhat grateful that Albedo was spared from the agony of heartbreak, the lack of understanding of deep and complicated human emotions. At that point, you wished that you were him- you wanted to sacrifice these damning emotions, so strong in the heat of everything that it made you jump from one opportunity of love to the next. You felt burdened by them, burdened by these human things Albedo was so gifted not to have. You wanted to be numb by then. If this was the type of ache you had to go through for the rest of your life- then you would trade anything to have it taken away.
HOW genshin men try to woo youఌ︎
Ft. Xiao...kazuha...tighnari
Xiao
He first goes to Zhongli for advice! The old geo archon suggested that he give you gifts! Though being an adeptus xiao dosn't own any mora so he can't buy you any gifts..
So he comes up with a plan! He heard mortals like shiny things so- whenever he sees something shiny he brings it back to you
You now have a growing collection of colorful crystals, and rocks- sometimes your darling xiao finds mora on the floor and he gives it to you saying "I have no need for such things- so..you take it" you don't think anyone has the need for 1 mora but you couldn't bring yourself to tell him that and so gratefully accept all these little trinkets he brings you
You one time compared him to a crow-..safe to say he didn't understand your comparison
Eventually, the little stones he brought you had an effect and you confessed your undying love for him
Kazuha
He makes haikus based on you! Like everything about you has been made into a poem! From your hair to your eyes your confidence to even the weapon you wield had been made into a poem at least- once
Since he's explored many different places he likes taking you to those not known by the general public- those places who have not been touched by humans...so clean, so pretty
He makes lots of food so when you get tired and tell him that you should leave- he traps you by showing you the delicious food he's made now you can't leave him!
" but [nick-name]...what about the food I made...? Are you not gonna eat it??"
Guilt tripping at it's finest
Tighnari
He makes conversation with you by talking and talking about plants when he starts there's no stopping him
Oh, you're getting bored? He slowly moves towards you- sitting right next to you so when you finally fall asleep from all the plant talk your head falls on his lap or shoulder- now he's free to look at your beautiful face without disturbance
He knows talking about plants all the time can get boring- so! He asks around for anyone who knows what kind of things you're into- after acquiring said information he tries his best to learn as much as he can about your topic of interest even if he doesn't find it interesting he'll still try- because of you
Since he's a forest ranger he doesn't have much free time so- he always takes you with him on missions to 'make sure you're ready to do this alone' spoiler he always insists on coming! Saying "oh you're going there...ill come along to...wh-what no! It's not because I'm worried or anything-..I just need some fungi that only grow at that part of the forest...okay"
Sure...
yummy
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note: this is a yandere blog. please take into account what kind of content your comfortable with reading and make sure to read the warnings before each post! also keep in mind that i do not support unhealthy relationships in real life, this is purely for the sake of creative writing!
attack on titan | cont.
obey me shall we date
devilman crybaby
the arcana
hunter x hunter
naruto
my hero academia
fruits basket
danganronpa
mystic messenger
diabolik lovers
haikyuu
demon slayer
tamen de gushi
jujutsu kaisen
sally face
death note
harry potter
atla/lok
genshin impact
GOOD SHIT GOOD👏QUALITY👏ART👏
The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)
I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.
It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.
(Part two)
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time
tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b
When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.
It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆
Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!
I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.
The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.
Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.
And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.
“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.
“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”
“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.
Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”
“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”
Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”
Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.
Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”
“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.
“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”
Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”
Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”
Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.
What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.
“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.
“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”
He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.
"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.
“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."
Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”
“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”
He sighed, “I’m not.”
Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”
He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”
“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.
Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.
With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.
With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.
His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.
His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”
This is ridiculous.
Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.
Nothing.
"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.
He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.
He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.
Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.
After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.
So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.
It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.
Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.
In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.
But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.
Still.
He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.
He held his breath, unconsciously.
With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.
"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."
Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.
Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.
"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.
"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.
But today, they were soft and out of focus.
"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.
"Am I dreaming?"
He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."
"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"
Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.
Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.
"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."
He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"
You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.
"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.
A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.
“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.
“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.
You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”
His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.
"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.
"When was your last time, mon cher?"
Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."
"You're in hell now."
"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.
"Look at me."
Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.
With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.
Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.
He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?
Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.
He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."
Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.
He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.
A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.
"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.
He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.
No.
Not enough.
Too soon.
A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.
He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.
When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.
Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.
He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.
"My doe?"
Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"
"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."
The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.
"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.
Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"
Suddenly, silence.
The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"
"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.
"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.
"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"
Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.
"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"
"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."
"Yet..." She cocked her brow.
"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."
Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"
"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.
She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"
His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."
He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.
But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?
"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."
Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.
For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.
To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.
He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.
Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.
The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.
One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.
You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.
And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.
Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.
He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.
When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”
༻Masterlist༺
Pei Ming: I have no fucking idea how you managed to make a spiritual weapon that has a praise kink, but holy fuck-
Hua Cheng: Is that an observation, an insult or a compliment?
Green Slumber
— "Ah, look! Is Alhaitham taking a nap?" "Shh...You're too loud, Paimon." "Th-That's not true…Paimon was definitely whispering-wait, who is that beside him?"
— Alhaitham
Traveller & Paimon lines are taken from the official Genshin Twitter post. [Masterlist]
Congrats Alhaitham, your birthday postpones the fic where I tear you apart for scamming me. I usually don't write birthday fics but pretty art. Can you tell I'm not used to writing second pov and rushed again :)) I don't know how to end fics.
"Ah, look! Is Alhaitham taking a nap?"
Lumine looks in the direction of Paimon's voice, her floating companion peeking through a room with a giddy face. No doubt hatching some sort of plan to get back at the scribe for his words during their quest to rescue Lesser Lord Kusanali. On one hand, she should probably scold Paimon for immediately jumping to payback since the reason both of them are here is to wish the man a happy birthday before departing to the next region. But on the other hand...
“Shh…You’re too loud Paimon,” Lumine whispers as she tip-toes towards the door and gently pushes it open further. She's pointedly ignoring the face Paimon is throwing her for acting just as bad as she is. If anyone asks, she'll make an excuse that she was just being a polite guest and if Alhaitham was sleeping, she would excuse herself quietly. In no way is it her curiosity to see the ever-serious Alhaitham in any mode that's defenseless and relaxed. So with Paimon’s head hovering above hers, they both poke their heads into the room. Alhaitham doesn’t look any different from the last time they met, although asleep, he looks far less intimidating. He’s leaned back in the wooden chair, arm propped up to hold his lolling head in place. Calculating amber and teal eyes are closed as his chest falls up and down slowly with each breath while the gentle sun paints him in warm yellows and soothing whites. If Lumine had never met Alhaitham before, she would have thought he may have been the Dendro archon with how serene the scene itself is. Something that almost makes her want to reach out and touch him just to check if he’s real or not.
"Th-That's not true…Paimon was definitely whispering-wait, who is that beside him?" Paimon’s voice tapers off at the end, eyes alight with confusion. Lumine tears her eyes away from Alhaitham to look at where Paimon is pointing. Seated on the desk right in front of Alhaitham’s sleeping figure, a stranger hums softly with their ankles locked as they swing their legs ideally in the air. In their hands appears to be the beige book Alhaitham usually carries around, the one about physics and motion if she remembers correctly. Now that she’s looking - she can't believe she missed an entire person because she got distracted by the image of a sleeping Alhaitham - the stranger looks far more comfortable in the room than she is. Maybe they're another roommate? Although Alhaitham doesn't seem like the type to have an extensive list of friends and she's positive she's met most if not all of the people Alhaitham could call close enough to have them in his home. She shares a look with Paimon who returns it with a shrug of the shoulders. Neither one of them has ever seen this mysterious person before.
"Haitham, this section here about..." the stranger's voice brings blue and yellow eyes back to the room. Lumine watches intrigued as the stranger finally looks up from the book to see Alhaitham fast asleep. A soft sigh escapes their lips as they close the book, shoulders dropping into something more relaxed, and they just sit and look at the man. They have the same look in their eye but instead, their hand slowly reaches out until their fingertips meet the tips of soft silver hair. Pushing strands away from his face before waltzing down to caress his cheek. It's an intimate touch and Lumine isn't sure whether she should be here interrupting the moment. The stranger surely seems to be having fun as they return to playing with silver strands. Through it all, Alhaitham remains asleep yet, his body seems to lean into the touch naturally. As if these practiced movements have happened before.
Oh. Oh, she understands now.
“Hey, Paimon…” Lumine starts as she slowly picks herself off the floor as quietly as possible lest she disturbs the peace. "We should leave."
"Huh? But why? We've never seen this person before right? What if they're one of those bad guys that are after Alhaitham because he's the acting grand sage!" Paimon adamantly nods, small hands clutched into little fists. It would be cute if it weren't for the fact that Paimon has no sense of volume. Before Lumine can reach out and press her palm against Paimon's mouth to stop her from shouting again, a light chuckle rings out. They both freeze in place, flicking their heads back inside the room.
"You know...if you talk any louder you will actually wake him up," the stranger drops their hand as they turn to face the duo. There's mirth dancing in their eyes and Lumine has enough decency to look embarrassed at getting caught red-handed. Paimon on the other hand has no such reservations.
"Ah, sorry! We didn't mean to! Wait-Hey! Don't turn this on Paimon. Who are you and what are you doing in Alhaitham's house?!" Paimon stomps her feet in the air, crossing her arms as she pouts at the stranger. Her frown further increased by the stranger laughing harder.
"I basically live here. There's no need to be so on edge. I doubt Haitham could sleep so easily if a stranger was in his home," they say, gesturing to the still peacefully unaware scribe who hasn't moved a muscle since they arrived.
"Ohh, so you're like that blond guy from before! Ka-Ka something? But wait, why were you touc-"
"Ahem, sorry for barging in. We just wanted to say Happy Birthday to Alhaitham. We'll visit again some other time when he's awake," Lumine cuts Paimon off, successfully managing to slap her hand against Paimon's mouth. She can feel the back of her ears turning red as she bows and practically sprints away and out of the house. She'll just write a note to the scribe instead.
+
You blink a few times before chuckling again. Wow, that girl sure can run fast. You've heard stories about the Traveller and this "Paimon" character, patiently waiting for your turn to stumble into their journey. Although you wish you had met them with better first impressions, they seem like a lively bunch. Your eyes slide over back onto the sleeping figure in front of you, and there's a slight nudge of his lips. The smallest of smiles threaten to burst before it placates into something more neutral. A small detail that hasn't escaped you.
"I know you're awake Alhaitham," you state blankly, your gentle hands reaching back up before suddenly turning harsh and tugging at his cheek. Pulling the skin so he has a lopsided smile. True to your words, teal and amber eyes open without an ounce of shame. "Weren't those your friends? Don't be rude and ignore them when they came all this way to say happy birthday."
He offers a half-hearted shrug before the hand supporting his head moves to take your fingers still tugging at his cheek. Intertwining them together until his face is free. His smile is still small but his eyes shine with fondness that you're forced to look away. Sometimes you forget just how pretty Alhaitham can be.
"Weren't you the one that said I should indulge on my special day? Is it so wrong that I want to spend it with you and you alone?" He adds to his point by brushing his lips against your fingertips before pressing a kiss to your palm. There's a small smile as he extends his other hand out, eyes taking in how pink your ears become. "So let's indulge."
“For such a pretty face, you sure are…” you trail off but you take his hand and let him move you onto his lap. It's unfair how fast he can turn the tables on you and how easily you let him do so. It was fun being able to poke and prod the man to your heart's content since he had to hold the disguise of being asleep, even if you do feel a bit bad that the Traveller had to postpone their greeting, but now it's his hands that roam over your body. Slipping under your - his - shirt and rubbing small circles into your hip before growing bored and moving onto another patch of untouched skin until there's nothing left to take. Lip hungry as he kisses away your words because every breath that isn't mixed with his is worthless. Perhaps it's a blessing that you need to take a proper breath because you're sure that Alhaitham would keep taking until there's nothing left. Disregarding how tightly your hands cling to him and refuse to let him stray too far away.
"Greedy."
"Pot meet kettle."
---
[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.
@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars @ieathairs @crypticbibliophile @cumbermovels @totallynotaraidensimp
this is just ugh 😩❤️✨🤌🤌🤌
— 「 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 | 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐄 」
feat : lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeous, beelzebub + belphegor.
warnings : f. reader, breeding, cockwarming, kind of possessive but not toxic, accidental confessions, sex with feelings, fwb to lovers, pussy job in levi’s.
note : this is like my favourite trope of all time so they got a little longer than i’d normally do i’m sorry :,)
୪ LUCIFER
— the idea was something he’d never really thought about, he was a busy person, but the feelings he’d developed since the beginning of your arrangement were new to him, especially to be feeling them towards a human. he just grew to enjoy your company, not realising that his attachment was growing with it as he gradually became a little more lovesick.
“h-how do you feel so good, every time?” lucifer breathes, a trembling undercurrent to his voice when he draws his hips back, his hands massaging your waist almost soothingly as he feels your tight walls stretch around him. it’s just as slow when he sinks back into you, rolling his hips forward into yours and you watch his lips part, a breathy whine falling from them as he blinks down at you. “f-fuck.” the eldest brother hisses, feeling your pussy flex around his sensitive cock once more and you mumble something affirming back—something that has a gruff curse falling from the dark-haired demon’s lips when he begins a steady pace. your hands grab his shoulders to keep yourself steady, but you pull him closer in the process, watching him lean down to hover just over you—his hair messy and unkempt as it hangs over his face, framing the blush on his cheeks perfectly. you whimper at how good he fills you, your eyes closing in bliss and for a moment you feel his hips stutter when he sucks in a breath, you look pretty, lucifer thinks to himself. his hips jolt forward, watching the way your face contorts in pleasure, needy moans of his name falling from your lips and his head dips towards you, placing a gentle kiss against your cheek and his cock twitches when you look up at him again. “f-feels good, lucifer.” and he rocks his body into yours again, because his name has never sounded better.
୪ MAMMON
— mammon felt a lot, he thought he could do it, just agreed because he wanted to be closer to you and being able to have any sort of relationship with you was good enough for him. it was just sex, but when your pussy felt like it was made just for him he couldn’t help the feelings that came along with it, the ones he thought he could ignore—the ones that followed the late nights and the impromptu visits that became more frequent when he started missing you, he needed you, and he was terrible at hiding it.
“goddamn, t-that’s it, baby—look at me, ya feel s-so good.” mammon groans from above you, holding his bottom lip between his teeth as he sinks his cock into your doughy cunt with another heavy thrust. his hands are grabbing tightly at your hips, keeping you in position as he begins an almost brutal pace, his brows creasing from the overwhelming pleasure. your body feels like it was made for him and the chemistry between you both itself was undeniable, his brothers constantly commenting on the tension between you both as they joked about how smitten with you the second eldest was as he stumbled over excuses. “i wanna be the only one who gets to see ya l-like this, so pretty. i’ll make ya f-feel better than anyone else ever could—shit” mammon grunts, pulling back only to pull you in for a feverish kiss, eagerly, without care while lewd whispers of how tight and perfect you are leave his lips as your cunt continues to squeeze him, feeling him grin against your lips before he wraps you in his strong hold. the silver haired demon exhales shakily, “you make me feel so g-good, mammon.” you sigh and your praise cuts him deep as his pace quickens, feeling you grip the back of his neck to help him hitch your hips impossibly closer to his and he trembles over you. he’s so lost in you—his mind feels foggy, focusing on the needy push and pull of your body and he murmurs your name, grits his teeth, can barely keep his eyes open but he cant look away, not from you when he feels his orgasm suddenly wash over his body just as your walls twitch around him. “f-fuck, baby—shit, i-i love ya, ya know that right? hnghhh—how d’ya expect me t-to resist ya.” a confession slipping from mammon’s lips in a sudden moment of tenderness has his eyes widening in horror as he fucks his load into your cunt, but when he feels you grab him tighter in response—he knows you’ll be okay.
୪ LEVIATHAN
— you’d caught him off guard with the question, ofcourse he’d catch feelings for you, they were there already. he just wanted to be closer to you, and now he felt like he was the main protagonist in some romance manga and now he understood why they couldn’t just confess to their crush, because what if it meant he never got to hear how much better his name sounds from your lips again.
“are you okay, levi?” you whisper and keen, peering at him from where your forehead is against his while levi’s thighs quiver below you at the languid back and forth sway of your hips in his lap. “hnghh—huh, i-it’s nothing! it’s nothing, d-don’t stop, please—“ you’re intoxicating, the feeling of your body against his, your pussy feels like silk as you roll your puffy folds along his cock, his swollen cockhead catching under the hood of your clit as you both twitch and sigh. he looks at you, flushed from his cheeks to his chest, and his mind is so full with conflicting emotions—all while he’s mindlessly helping you rock back and forth along the length of him, feeling you press slow, soft kisses along his cheeks and his lips part to allow another whimper to slip through with a lewd swirl of your hips. “p-please, don’t stop—“ levi grunts, gripping your hips tightly as you continue to grind yourself against him and he feels like he can barely think, he loves how it feels to push against you, he could spend every day like this, watching you thrust and glide your pussy across the length of his cock—he’s in heaven, so much so, he doesn’t realise his hand has moved to intertwine with yours until you give his a reassuring squeeze when he swallows—a little awkwardly at first, the blush across his cheeks darkening before he gathers you even closer, grunting with each greedy swirl of your clit across the intense, sensitive nerves of his cock. “i—i really l-like you—uh, w-when you do that! yeah, when you do that.”
୪ SATAN
— you’d just never really addressed what you both were—you visited his room, fucked him and normally left but it all changed when you fell asleep in his lap one day as his hands traced featherlight touches down your figure, and when he realised he’d been smiling to himself as you slept—he knew he was in trouble.
“s-satan!” you mumble, arching your back to press your chest closer to his, your cunt flexing around his pretty cock when you feel him push deeper, pulling a pleasured hiss from the man beneath you as his jaw clenches, watching him sink back into his chair—the book he was reading long forgotten in favour of his fingers sinking into your hips instead. “it feel good? nghhh—you truly are something else.” satan grunts, his voice low and smooth and the tone has your back curling, something intimate in the way his hips are rolling against yours—your body so ready for the pleasure that you know only he can give you. “feels s-so good.” you babble back and your mind is too cloudy to notice the almost proud smile on the blonde brothers face before he groans, his hands smoothing along the shape of your hips—appreciating every part of you. “let me l-look at you.” he hums, thrusting into you again, his pace a little rougher this time as the sound of skin slapping picks up and he pulls you against his chest more, his fingers curling along your jaw before he curses roughly, fucking into you with practiced thrusts that have you keening. you’re vaguely aware of what’s going on, satan’s cock is smoothing along all of your sweet spots but you don’t expect to feel his lips press against yours softly, a contrast to how ruthlessly he’s fucking into you—this is gentle, feeling his fingers smooth along the side of your cheek before he pulls away just as quickly, mumbling a few praises under his breath and he looks at you, a rush of warmth in his veins due to the fluttering pull of your pussy and the ghost of a grin on his lips “s-so beautiful.”
୪ ASMODEOUS
— the fact he couldn’t do it surprised even him, he was the avatar of lust after all but there was just something about you. something that had him craving you beneath him, to shower you in the praises that fell from his lips and rolled down the curves of your body until he was the only thing on your mind, he craved you.
“oh—you’re so cute. does that feel good?” asmo hums, he really likes the way you look below him, watching you whimper and keen as he feels the saccharine rub of his skin against yours, he feels delirious at your touch—lost in an intense haze of messy kisses and moans as he fucks into you, his hands wandering and squeezing before his palm rests against your cheek. every grind on his hips against yours is teasing, drawing his hips back before he’s rolling them back into yours just as slowly, the head of his pretty cock pushing on something just a little too deep inside of you that’s warm and pleasantly achy and you twitch around him, pulling a dreamy whine from the man above you as he taps his fingers on your cheek, urging you to meet his narrowed, lustful gaze as his lips curl into a smile. “look at you, so needy, you’re even more adorable like this—you feel so good.” asmo always knew your body so well, he was so hypnotised by you, like every move you made below him was enchanting as his free hand trails it’s way between you both, slowly rolling your clit under the pad of his fingers and you cast him a starry eyed glance before he kisses you, and it feels like he’s been shot with a cupids arrow when he emphasises it with another slow roll of his hips, his voice becoming more breathless as he admires you, drunk on sizzling pleasure as your pussy flexes around him again. “i’ll take care of you, just keep your eyes on me, okay? i’m all yours after all.”
୪ BEELZEBUB
— he didn’t really understand the whole agreement. he was just excited he was finally going to be able to fuck you, it felt good and he got to stay to eat with you after so he was happy. you’d became important to him, so he just assumed that you both were dating—always ending up a little confused when you denied any questions from his brother, because isn’t this what couples do? 
“fuck—feels s-so good. you look delicious.” beel grunts from his place facing you, pinning you to the wall with his chest as he fucks into your cunt—your mind foggy from how tightly you’re stretched around his fat cock and his eyes focus on the way you suck him back in, your walls rewarding the delicious stretch by twitching around the blunt head. he groans, the vibrations of his tone rumbling in his chest and you feel tears in your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure, meeting beel’s gaze only to catch him already looking at you with parted lips and pink cheeks. “you’re so cute, hmph—feel like another p-part of me is full when you’re here.“ he exhales shakily, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours while his fingernails dig into your hips to pull you closer, and he grits his teeth as he dumbly pistons his cock into your cunt, his hips driving into yours ruthlessly. he’s fucked out, his violet gaze is hazy and his red hair is wet with sweat as it hangs messy over his forehead, but it frames his face in a way that has you arching against him. beel’s heavy body is so close, pushing you even harder against the wall, fucking every coherent thought out of your mind that isn’t him or his cock and you feel his fat head kiss every part of your insides when his pace grows messy, his hips bucking almost wildly into you and he growls, audible moans of your name falling from his lips mixed with needy grumbles. “g-gonna cum, does it feel good? fuck, nggghh—will you s-stay after this time? don’t wanna s-stop—need more.”
୪ BELPHEGOR
— it wasn’t something you had expected to happen honestly, it just kind of happened naturally in the time you both spent together, napping turning into more than that whenever he came over. only realising when he had to feel his heart race every time he heard a familiar knock on his bedroom door, hoping you don’t see the ghost of a smile on his lips when he reaches to open it knowing you’re on the other side.
you tremble from your place underneath belphe, your body still coming down from your orgasm as the youngest of the brothers groans against your neck, a string of barely audible curses falling from his lips as his cock thickens and throbs inside of you. you shudder when you feel him sink his cock back into your twitching walls, his hips grinding against yours as lewd squelching noises fill the room, a mixture of both your orgasms dripping from the place between you both, soaking the sheets beneath you. “ughhh—feels g-good, so tight.” belphe breathes, a trembling undercurrent to his voice and your mind is too hazy to acknowledge the soft kiss he places on your skin as he finally comes down from his high, plopping his weight on you before rolling onto his side, his cock beginning to soften inside of you. you try to catch your breath, shuffling to blink up at the male but your eyes widen when his arms move quickly to pull you against his chest instead—it feels more intimate this time, and maybe it’s the post orgasm haze that has you nuzzling into him. “belphe? you awake?” you ask, your voice a quiet whisper followed by a huff when you’re met with only silence in response and belphe’s soft breathing, assuming he must’ve fell asleep. but he’s awake—with a softer sort of smile on his lips while the exhaustion in your body has you falling asleep against him quickly, not realising this was belphe’s plan b when he got too nervous to ask you to stay.
© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)
gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.
warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999
The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him.
He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with.
Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course.
Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down.
Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered.
At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy.
Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on.
You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on.
“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels.
You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up.
“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”
“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission.
You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”
“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.”
Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice.
His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”
Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”
“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).”
His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late.
He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to.
You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.
You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.
It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”
You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”
“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.
You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”
For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?”
“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to.
He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?”
You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults.
He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”
Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.
He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
It’s a vow he swears to keep.
“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”
He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise.
Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips.
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Daikon | 20 my reblogs are the good shit i find from my trecherous journeys across this placemostly just horny shit tho...
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