Part ?? Of Mermaid Au 😭

Oftentimes Choso doesn’t realise just how big he is. He gets into the habit of over-exciting himself and rushing into things before you’re ready for him.

And he’d eat you out for hours if you asked him, make you cum on his fingers with so much enthusiasm he’s practically vibrating. Even then, he's so big that pushing into you is always a stretch. Sure, a stretch that has your back arching off the mattress and the most erotic of gasps leaving your lips, but a stretch nonetheless. You always need a minute to adjust and calm yourself before he starts moving.

And those few moments of acclimation to his cock have Choso nearly vibrating in impatience. He loves you, would never move before you're ready for him, but something you can't help but smile and drag out his need just a little longer than necessary. You're more than ready for him to fuck you into the next day, but you keep your hand on his hip to stop him from moving.

And he's doing everything possible to distract himself from the instinctual urge to pull out and slam his length fully inside of you. He's kissing you, forcing his tongue into your mouth for some sort of taste of you. He's doing math in his head and digging his fingers into the pillow your head rests on and he's on the verge of tears when you finally give him the nod.

"Oh thank god," the mental flip in his head switches and he's rutting into you like he's been denied for weeks despite having fucked you only hours prior. "Thank you thank you thank you."

Tony actually having a panic attack 😹

Steve: How is everyone doing?

Y/N: Well, I’m breathing.

Steve: Setting the bar pretty low huh?

Y/N: Well, it’s better than Tony, anyways.

Tony, having a panic attack: Honestly, fuck you.

NSFW

"What are you doing? It's two in the morning, doll," Toji's voice drawls out, sleep morphing his voice into something quiet and gravelly.

You pause the show you have playing on your phone and look up at Toji, who's leaning against the dining room entryway. He has two random clumps of his hair sticking out, his eyes are slightly puffy with sleep, and there's this pout on his face that just pieces it all together.

"I woke up and wanted something sweet. I had a bite of cake and an orange. Well, two oranges," you say, giving him a glimpse of the progress you've made on the second one. He hums and goes quiet, groggily watching you continue to eat the fruit. "Go back to sleep, baby," you coo. "I'll head back in a few minutes."

"Come back, now. I'm tired," Toji says, crossing his arms over his chest. He really looks like the grumpiest of bears.

You chuckle at the almost whiny sound in his voice. "Five minutes."

"No. Too long."

"Three minutes?" You counteroffer.

Toji shakes his head. "No, baby. Now."

"But..." you hold up your remaining two pieces of orange.

"Finish up. I'm waiting on you."

You sigh and stuff the two pieces of orange in your mouth, before standing up to wash your hands.

You follow behind Toji as he leads you through the dark hallway, back to the bedroom. He waits for you to walk in before shutting the door and joining you on his side of the bed. Immediately, he tries to steal all your warmth, because the sheets and the blanket feel cold on his naked torso and his legs. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and throws an arm over your chest, while his legs trap one of yours between them. He's all consuming.

"Why'd you get out of bed?" You murmur, stroking the back of his head. Toji lets out a quiet grunt, falling silent, again, after. You smile and stop talking so that he can go back to sleep. You bring your phone up and start scrolling through your socials, only to earn another quiet, but more disapproving grunt. "Sorry," your whisper, turning down the brightness of your screen.

"Turn it off, ma. It's too early for you to be awake," Toji chides.

"But I can't go back to sleep. I'm not tired," you explain.

"I can put you down. Just turn it off, alright?"

You sigh, defeatedly, and turn your screen off, before setting it on your nightstand.

"Turn onto your side," Toji tiredly mumbles, instructing you so that he can turn as well and spoon you. His arm goes over your waist and below your shirt to caress the bare skin of your tummy. His thumb slowly strokes your soft skin, moving back and forth in a soothing manner. "Relax," he says, coaxing a relieved sigh out of you. "There you go. You've got sugar in your system, now, ma. It might take a little longer to get you to sleep."

"Sorry," you mumble into your pillow. Your eyes don't feel heavy and you don't feel the least bit sluggish. It always feels nice to have Toji rub your tummy, and this method of getting you to sleep is ninety-nine point nine percent effective, the point one percent being this time.

"I don't think me rubbing your stomach is gonna save you this time," Toji says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He gets a quiet, disappointed sigh from you, followed by silence. He doesn't want you to feel bad. You're not the first person ever to wake up craving something so badly that it doesn't let you stay asleep, and tummy rubs aren't the only method he uses to help you get to sleep. "Want me to go down there and make it all better?" He murmurs.

"You need to sleep, too," you say, considering his own tiredness.

"I'll sleep just fine without you tossing and turning all night. Let me help you."

So, you do. You let him go under the blanket and pull your shorts and underwear down, both in one go. You feel his lips on your thighs, slowly making their way towards the part of you that very quickly grew needy, and once his tongue makes contact with you, your first instinct is to bend your knees and plant your feet on the mattress.

"Relax, baby," Toji says, under the blanket. His hands push on your thighs so that your legs go down, again. "Don't tense up too much. We're getting you to sleep, 'kay?"

"Sorry," you mumble, shutting your eyes to allow yourself to focus on the way Toji's mouth works on you. His hands stay on your thighs and rub your skin, soothingly, with the same gentleness he uses for the tummy rubs he gives you.

All that can be heard as Toji builds you up through the quietness of the night, are your soft breaths and the rustling of sheets, as you squirm and slightly arch off the bed. His tongue offers gentle licks to your clit, before he envelops the sensitive bud with his lips and starts suckling on it. Every time your legs go up, he hums against your cunt and pushes them back down, and it keeps going this way until he's had enough. You don't listen and he's corrected you multiple times, so he had to resort to locking your thighs in place with his arms.

"T-Toji," you whimper out, writhing under him and the relentlessness flicking of his tongue. "Please- Please?"

"Shh... I know, baby," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your cunt, before continuing.

Your legs are quivering and it's so hard to lie still when you've been edged and denied of your orgasm three times, now—all work done by solely his mouth. His soft, warm tongue has been lapping at you for long enough to have thin strings of your arousal and his saliva connecting you to him, even for a mere second, before those strings snap.

It doesn't take much more than Toji sucking on your over sensitive clit for a couple seconds, for you to finally get that powerful orgasm you've been grasping, but never fully reaching. Your toes curl, your hips roll against the mattress as your back arches off the bed, and you gasp sharply, a sound that leads the rest of your sounds of pleasure out, as Toji helps you ride out the sensation. While, normally, he would be a little mean and overstimulate you, even just the slightest bit, he opts out of it, this time, because the purpose of this from the start was to get you to sleep, and based off the sounds you made, Toji knows you're going to sleep so good.

Once you've calmed down, your breathing steadied and your body still on the bed—now entirely relaxed—Toji cleans you up with his tongue. Slow, gentle strokes, because despite this act of kindness being for you to achieve rest, he can't—doesn't want to—waste your sweet essence.

When he's done, he slides your underwear back on and uses your shorts to wipe his face, before tossing them somewhere behind him on the bed. Toji peeks out from under the blanket and takes in your peaceful expression. Your eyes are shut, not a crease in your brows, and your breaths come softly through your nose. This is it.

He tries to be as careful as possible when crawling back up to his side of the bed, not wanting to wake you up after just getting you to sleep. It seems like the coast is clear when his head hits his pillow and he carefully shifts so that he can watch you until he falls asleep. Then, he sees you stir and he starts thinking that maybe the orgasm didn't fully wear you out, but just left you dazed. He doesn't say anything when you briefly open your eyes to look at him, but when you lean in to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, he's furthermore silenced. Immediately after, you bury your face in his chest and doze off for sure, this time. Toji coils around you and instantly returns to his all consuming way of sleeping with you.

This is what I needed

toji wolverine

You know what, hell yeah.

Sweetheart Online - G.S.

Synopsis. Isekai-ed into another world, or isekai-ed into your pants?! Gojo Satoru is in danger - in danger of losing his prized, otaku vírginíty, that is.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, otaku! Gojo, isekai, vírgínity loss (Gojo), chokíng, use of “ma’am”, PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, begging, nerdy babbling, Gojo wears glasses, cúmming dry, first times, oraI (f + m), face-sítting, cúmming early, spítting, creampíes, cúmplay, p talking, cúmming in his pants, he goes féral, otaku vocab, truck-kun, anime nosebIeeds, Gojo is a LOSER, and so down bad for you, pet names, swearíng.

Word count. 8.8k

A/N. IT’S HEREEEEE-

“Har har. hilarious, Suguru-”

“You know m’not joking, Satoru.” Geto’s taking an infuriatingly long slurp! of his ramen from the other end of the line, and Gojo’s known the man long enough to realize that he’s doing it solely to irritate him. That bastard. “You’re a loser.”

Ah, he’s never wanted to throttle him more. 

Because- listen, Gojo Satoru might be many things. 

He might be the proud president of the campus otaku club, rumored to have never even held hands with a woman his entire life. Complete defamation, of course, Gojo has held hands with his mother as a child. Though…she might be the only one. 

He might be the most annoying tenant at his cramped Tokyo apartment, every inch of it covered with enough of your pretty figurines that he’s taken to sleeping on the couch recently. But you deserved only the best!

And he might currently be the sketchiest man trudging down the streets of Shibuya at 3AM; with a brand-spanking new, life-sized body pillow of you tucked safely underneath one arm.

But that didn’t mean Gojo was a loser. Probably. 

So what if he got strange looks from every unfortunate normie soul he happened to pass? It was limited edition, and he waited eight hours in line for it!

After all, a man with such a prized possession could surely and undoubtedly never be a-

“-oi- oi!” Self-proclaimed best friend, and universally-proclaimed pain in Gojo’s ass grumbles into the phone. 

Snapping out of his reverie, Gojo’s registering that he’s already at that familiar flickering stoplight. Fingers curling even tighter in their tender hold around your form, he saunters down the barren crossing. 

He needed to get home - and he needed to get home fast! A man needs quality time with his wife, after all. 

“Don’t tell me you fainted from her ah- what was it- ‘sheer beauty and unparalleled sex appeal’ again?”

“That was one time and you know it.” He’s hissing into the speaker- honestly, Geto’s probably just cranky that he didn’t get his grubby hands on one of these before he did - Gojo’s seen the other man’s plushie collection of you no matter how much he tries to hide it. “This time, I only got weak in the knees.”

There’s a snickering drawl, “Oh yeah? What wondrous self-control, o’ maestro of virgins.”

And the title is so utterly ridiculous that Gojo finds himself stuttering into a shocked stop right in the middle of the gloomy asphalt. A laugh bubbling up in his throat before he remembers that that particularly sweet nickname was directed at him. 

“You’re a virgin too!”

Scoffing, “Yeah, but I don’t act like it. You, on the other hand, are famed for having your first kiss with the common room tv the moment you first saw that video game character. People were making bets on whether you were going to die a virgin, Satoru. Hell- I bet, too!”

Dammit, when you put it like that it makes Geto sound downright respectable. 

“Actually, she’s more than a video game character, Sugu—” Times like this, he’s letting his words simper out into a whine. Full and well knowing how much it’ll grate against Geto’s eardrums - hah, take that ramen ASMR! Smugly, Gojo pushes up his thickly-rimmed glasses, “She’s the revered princess of a distant land, first in line to rule over the throne with a gentle yet firm hand. Scouring the seas for the perfect consort that will-”

“Are you quoting her Wikipedia-”

“I wrote her Wikipedia.” Gojo huffs indignantly, as if anyone could ever assume anything less. “Because to me, she’s- she’s…”

And, truly, nothing he recited with MLA citations could ever describe you.

Because if there’s one thing that Geto was right about, it’s the fact that Gojo’s been completely and utterly head-over-heels for you ever since he first glimpsed an ad for Sweetheart Online - the hottest, filthiest romance game to hit the industry in the last few years. Maybe ever. 

With one love interest - as if he needed any other - you, and your hand in marriage that Gojo had fought rival after unworthy rival to win 143 times already.

He finds himself wracking his brain for any word in the existing lexicon to describe the perfection that is you. Though, it seems that he doesn’t have to think too hard at all. 

Because before he can even imagine letting the first few syllables formulate on his tongue, there’s a deafening-

HONK!

Gojo turns, only to see the glaringly white headlights of a truck hurtling towards him at full-speed. 

And the first thing he thinks is oh, it kind of looks like the spotlight that dazzles on you 1 minute and 24 seconds into the game’s Coronation Event. The second thing he thinks is…fuck.

.

.

.

“-highness—looks rabid!”

“—that’s rude, but…”

“-oh dear, put your sword down, Itadori.”

Gojo takes a few bleary seconds to pat himself mentally on the back for deducing that he’s died and made his way to heaven. Honestly, it doesn’t matter what Yaga says - he really is a genius sometimes.

What else could the delicate paintings of cupids and clouds on the staggeringly tall ceiling abovehead mean? He didn’t think that the heavens above had a fancy for Baroque - but who was he to judge? 

Certainly not when it seemed like he was sprawled out on a painfully decadent bed. Sifting among layers and layers of delicate silk that almost swallowed him whole - oh, it was fit enough for his figurine collection of you. 

A sharp crick shoots along Gojo’s neck when he turns his eyes towards what seemed like a towering window, wincing at the large glowing ball of light washing warmly over him. If he squinted his eyes it almost looked like…the sun?

Surely, he wasn’t a ghost then.

It hadn’t even been daybreak once that semi-truck had run him over, and even if he was to haunt anyone then it would be to bug Geto into plastering his collection of your posters all over his gravestone. 

And the final piece of celestial evidence being a soft, soothing tone ringing in his ears and already becoming his favorite new song. Coming from the mouth of an angel peering down at him who looked - lo and behold - like your very spitting image. 

“Oh…” It comes out in a hoarse, scratchy gasp. All the air knocking out of his poor lungs once you inch in mere centimeters closer to his glassy view. He can’t help but reach up a trembly hand, “You’re even more beautiful in 3D.”

SMACK!

Gojo flinches when his hand gets knocked away unceremoniously by someone else’s- there were other people here? “You dare attempt to touch the princess? After revealing yourself in her chambers? I should call the guards right now-”

Now, he didn’t know much about the afterlife, but he was sure that demons weren’t allowed in heaven.

“It’s quite alright, Nobara.” The angel speaks up, and oh, it’s not even his name being said but Gojo already feels his heart leap a little and suddenly wishes it was. “Judging by the state of his clothes it seems he’s not from these parts. Maybe he’s lost?”

Gentle hands are suddenly bestowed upon his to softly pull him up, and before he can open his mouth to undoubtedly blurt out something stupid, there’s a ringing PING!

Jumping just about a foot off the bed, he’s scrambling to stand as a strangely robotic voice speaks from somewhere overhead, “Milestone: Touch a Girl reached. System activation successful! Congratulations, user [Satorulovesprincess]. Welcome to Sweetheart Online.”

If the group in front of him heard anything, then they didn’t show a sign. 

Very much the opposite of a thoroughly panicked Gojo, flailing his head towards the source of the noise until his eyes meet a holographic screen hovering just a few inches over his head.

As if something pulled right out of one of Geto’s favorite trashy sci-fi films - fuck being in heaven, he was probably still on those Shibuya streets hallucinating and causing an incident.. 

Gojo treks down a hand to pinch his forearm, just a little harder than necessary when the voice booms once more-

“Quite ingenious, user [Satorulovesprincess]. However, we assure you that what you are seeing is real.” The screen displays those exact words in time. “You have initiated the execution of the system, and are now bound to Sweetheart Online.”

“System- Sweetheart Online-” Great, he’s going mad. Running his hands through tousled locks of cloudy white, “Don’t tell me…don’t tell me this is like one of those shitty isekai anime.”

Oh god it all made sense - the truck, the system, the truck. And Gojo’s watched much more than enough cliché isekai anime with the otaku club to realize. 

But…a truck? Seriously? That’s embarrassingly overused. 

It’s like a pit of ice forms at the bottom of his stomach. He bet that no one but him could see the glaring screen right now. A fact he was especially glad for once the following words roll out-

“Following your sudden and extremely inexperienced death, Mission: No-Longer-Virgin has already started.”

Whispering to himself, “So this is where virgins go after death. Some sort of purgatory perhaps in which the last wishes of the virgin are materialized- although that doesn’t explain the presence of- wait-”

“Good luck, user: [Satorulovesprincess]. May your virginity collapse, and your sex life prosper!”

If Gojo didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn that the disjointed voice sounded amused. 

But wait- no, it wanted Gojo to lose his virginity? His long-held, precious, maiden virginity? After twenty-something years, how crude that this ah- mission marrs his delicate body. Did the system think that he was some sort of harlot to-

“Are…are you okay, strange sir?”

Okay, maybe losing his virginity wasn’t all that bad.

Turning back around slowly, “I uh…”

And this wasn’t quite how Gojo imagined meeting you - glasses askew, hair rumpled, in the very same ratty hoodie and sweatpants he’d camped outside the anime store in - hell, he never thought he’d meet you in general. 

But then you smile, and Gojo falls onto his knees. Right then and there on the polished floor.

You were exactly as he’d seen on-screen. Brows quirking upwards just a slight cheeky degree the same way it did whenever his in-game avatar said something particularly smooth. Gorgeous. The silken skirts of your ball gown looking oh-so-soft to the touch but not as soft as you-

“Your highness, on top of being a madman, he drools at the sight of you!” A younger girl shrieks - Nobara Kugisaki, your trusty attendant, he remembers. Hastily wiping his lips, “Kindly consider having his skull impaled.”

There was nothing kindly about having his skull impaled, and Gojo’s already clutching his head when you chuckle. “Your name?”

Ah, he’s forgotten how to speak. Forgotten how to breathe. “G-Gojo Satoru- my princess- your highness.”

“Apologies, I’m not sure what foreign ambassador you are, but I do welcome you kindly to our kingdom.” You’re letting your eyes roam all over his still-kneeled body, and in them glittered something…dark. 

Sliding over your hand and oh! Gojo remembers this.

He’s drinking in that delicate floral scent of yours, dragging his plump mouth to meet the back of your hand in a lingering kiss. The very moment his lips touch you, Gojo feels lightheaded.

And only after pulling away does he realize exactly why-

“Ah! He’s bleeding!” The young man - your loyal knight, Itadori - yelps, and Gojo’s clapping over the warm wetness smearing over his lower face. A nosebleed? Really? Just from kissing your hand? God, Geto was right - he really is a loser. “Should I call the healers, your highness?”

“No we have him drawn and quartered for such an unseemly display-”

“Nobara, that’s quite alright.” You’re waving off, smooth marble floors resonating out sharp clacks! when you walk even closer. Close. Too close. Until you’re seated on the edge of the bed, “After all, it is my consort choosing ceremony. Isn’t that what you’re here for, Satoru?”

Gojo thinks he could faint at the way you say his name - and he almost does. 

Scrambling towards you, he’s fully kneeling at your feet now. You’re so beautiful - so real - that pearly beads of tears dot his fluttering lashes. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

He swears he hears you mumble cute under your breath. Now he could really faint–

“Oh? And I intend on fulfilling the wishes of my guest.” Speaking somewhere over his shoulder, “You two are dismissed. Lock the doors.”

Kugisaki is, unsurprisingly, the one to protest. “But- but, your highness he’s-” And, honestly, Gojo can recognize the raw expression of what the fuck in her voice. He doesn’t blame her one bit. Not when you tip his head up further to face yours and his nose twitches like he’s about to start nosebleeding all over again. “...pathetic.”

Ouch. Gojo was on the verge of spoiling the ending to her character’s backstory when you’re humming. “I like them pathetic, Nobara.” 

Did he mention you were an angel?

“So…” You’re luring him in, and just that heady lilt of your voice already makes his cottony grey sweatpants tight. Shit- wasn’t this the type of situation that he wrote secret fanfics about?

Barely hearing the creaky SLAM! of the double doors to your royal chamber. Clouded pants waft over your satisfied features, he’s peeking up at you over his large spectacles. Lolling closer and closer-

Mumbling, “Yes, my prin- oh!”

Gojo’s pouted strawberry-pink lips wobble cutely when the golden points of your heel dig into the fleshy mound of his thigh. Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing, “Y-your highness?”

“What’s this about a-” Watery eyes widening wordlessly when you’re sliding it all the way up, up, up along the shockingly curvaceous muscles to press right down on the straining inches of his fattened cock. Needy. Bulging. “-virginity loss mission-” Hard. “-Satoru?”

And Gojo doesn’t know what comes first - that sharp inhale at the realization, or him.

Fist flying up for him to sink his pretty pearly whites into when he’s biting back a whimper and cumming.

You could feel the way that Gojo’s sloppy mushroom tip was just bawling with every lazy grind up and down his sappy slit. 

Milking out the thick, goopy ribbons being sprinkled from his rounded mushroom tip. Volumes upon volumes. So much of it. That warm texture clinging against the flats of your shoe and puddling out mushy dark splotches into his sweatpants.

Shit. Shit shit shit - cumming just from that. All in front of the woman of his dreams. Part of him almost wants to apologize.

But the way your mouth curls into a sleazy grin makes Gojo’s heart race, every minute action only keeping his achy length even harder. 

He so can’t help himself from grabbing your calves to halt with a few twitchy fingers - only to be going against his own yearnings. Hips humping yours once like a fucking dog as his breath hitches, “You- you know?”

“Awww, of course I know, Toru. I can see the screen.” Fuck- he hopes you can’t feel the wet splat! of another buttery wad of cum being dolloped out generously from his depraved divot. Leaning in, “S’this the first time anyone else has ever made you cum?”

He knew you were teasing - he knew it. But that doesn’t stop Gojo from panting out a strained, “Yes.”

“Hmmm, well-” You’re tapping your chin in thought, despite already having made your decision. But it was just so fun to see this beautiful man shivering and pleading on his knees. “I don’t know where you transmigrated from but…I still am a benevolent ruler, after all.”

He gulps. Cupping one flushed side of his face, Gojo’s practically a steaming hot mess of putty in your hands. “And I can take care of that little virginity business for you.”

Croaking out, “P-please.”

“Hmmm, not good ‘nough.” You’re rovering down even further to press a slight smooch of pressure against his fatly filled-up balls. Thighs squeezing at just how big they were - breeder balls. “Is that how you speak to your princess?”

“No- no no no-” Gojo’s shaking his head so hard that it makes him a little dizzy, or maybe that was the way that you were fisting your determined digits into his faded hoodie. “Please…ma’am.”

“Much better.”

Before he can even blink, he’s being dragged upwards according to your every want and whim. Thrown onto the bouncy king-sized mattress with such strength- of course, he shouldn’t even be surprised. You are the future queen for a reason, after all. 

In fact, he’s never skipped a single cut scene that showed you training your battle skills-

“Now now, don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?” Your voice drifts its way into his melty mind, words so sugary sweet that he could almost taste them. “At least gimme a lil’ kiss now-”

And it’s more than anything he could’ve ever dreamed of.

Muffling back a muted yes, Gojo’s surging upwards to clash his lips into yours. And oh shit, just-now realizing that he’s lost his first ever kiss. 

Then his second. His third. His fourth.

It’s messy. It’s hot. 

Tugging you even closer with a forearm around your waist. Gojo’s sloppy tongue is licking its way past your ravenous entrance, fucked-out bubbles of spittle pop up at the edges of his pursed lips when you’re breaking away-

“N-nooo-” He’s letting off a shuddering whine, chasing after you with a sluttily half-parted maw. “Gimme- wanna ‘nother kiss, princess.”

So greedy. The fat curve of your thumb positions itself on Gojo’s prettily dimpled chin, prying open his dewy lips even further. “Open that mouth f’me, Toru?”

He’s doing exactly what you’re saying before he even realizes it. The glistening muscle of his tongue splayed-out perfectly on display for you - for you to spit out a heavy mass of saliva right onto his pinkish tastebuds. 

Gojo moans at the contact - and you can feel it before he does. The subtle jolt of his weepy cockhead, before your languidly gyrating kneecap is dampened with another wiry slather of cum. Warm and wet. 

“Cumming again?” You coo, eyes darting between the ever-growing pool of a frosted mess between his long legs, and his face. Gojo looked so pretty like this - glasses sliding down his button nose, eyes shuttering with each heaving pant - gasp. Face flushed and slicked with a slight shimmer of sweat, stray locks of white curtain and stick to his reddened forehead. He looked so pretty. “Just from that?”

He’s squirming his depraved hips to smudge a faint glaze of seed down your mounds of flesh, one palm dancing upwards to stop himself from having a nosebleed all over again. “C-can’t help it…The average time of ejaculation for a man is five to seven minutes based on psychological factors and age. And as a healthy young man just because I-”

You’re shutting him up with a kiss, and Gojo almost wonders why more people don’t do this time - that is, until he remembers they’re not you.

“Sounds pretty serious.” You’re nodding, a mask of teasing graveness taking over your face. Swiftly shuffling down the seemingly endless expanse of the bed. Doughy fingerpads delicately hooking onto the hem of his drenched pants, “Better get a taste before you run out, then.”

Gojo lets out such a breathy pant at the implication, “N-no it won’t, considering the volume of the seminal vesicle and- ah!”

Whatever drunken rambling of his is cut very, very short as soon as you tug down those useless sweatpants and let Gojo’s red, painfully angry cock smack! against his abdomen with a wet smear.

He was so…big.

Such girthy, solid inches upon inches that twitched needily right before your very eyes. A rummaging, left-leaning curve being nestled above two pretty pink balls. 

Your mouth waters once you’re curling your fingers dexterously around his plump circumference, making his cerise cockhead waterfall out in another lazy sheen of pre. It’s honestly a bit of a strain to even get your fingertips meeting each other properly with his incredible size, and that just makes you want him more.

Gojo’s knitting his ivory brows nervously, “S-s’it okay?”

It’s more than okay.

And you’re about to show him that.

Cerulean irises crossing together until they were all heart-eyed when a saturated coating of your saliva tops his bloated tip like a layer of icing. Before he feels himself fall in fucking love just at the gummy peck of your mouth onto the rotund ends of his length.

“W-woahhh—” He’s breathing out, eyes locked lecherously right with yours when the steaming hot cavern of your mouth sinks in more and more and more- “This- what- fuuuck-”

And then you’re huffing out a slight chuckle through your nose, hitting his drenched base and making him keen. Slender hips of his lurch the perfect angle off the luxurious bed to bump his mountainous head against the very back of your throat. 

Gasping - begging. 

“You’re seriously gonna…take me?” Prattling through clenched teeth as you grace him with a few more flooding masses of spit. It makes him feel so used. Feel so good. “Like you- you’re gonna put me in your mouth?”

“No.” You’re snickering at the utterly crestfallen look on his face, full mouth downturned, puffed-up tip tinting an even more blasphemous red as if to tempt you. Your fingers tangle with his to claw at the crown of your head, “You’re gonna put yourself in my mouth.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Shit-” Gojo whispers - more to himself than anything. “You can do this- can- can do this- just suck on m’cock-” Rubbing out a translucent lipstain all over your ajar maw before plugging his proud girth inside. “Please- wanna know what it feels…”

Gojo can’t remember what he was saying. What he was thinking. 

Because just a few vulgar sucks of your tenderized mouth around his inflated cock and he’s drunk. Fuck dying by a truck, he was about to die just by this. 

Head lolling all the way back against the poofy pillows, white-hot bliss flashing behind his eyes and- when had he even closed them?

“Wh-why does it feel so–” he’s clenching his jaw, dredging out every single ounce of will in his being to peer at the heavenly - hah- sight below. “-so- good- c-can it feel so good- hngh- please-”

Gojo’s drawing up the hem of his hoodie to cover that brightly blossoming blush. So adorable. He even tasted sweet, like the best of salted caramel that made you infinitely want more. 

Your salacious tongue is repeatedly wetting down his lightning bolted veins. Up and down up and down up and down to draw little hearts on those bumpy lines. 

His sobbing cockhead mushing back into the velveteen walls of your mouth, and Gojo could cum just from the voluptuous curve being outlined into your cheek. He’s finding it almost fucking impossible to grunt out over the raw squelches! emanating from where you were making out with his throbbing cock, “Must be illegal- that’s it! It f-feels so good this must be- ngh- outlawed.”

You’ve rendered him stupid. And he’s so hot and heavy in your mouth, it makes your core stir up to think that you’re the first.

Every choked-up plea only resonates off of the numerous corners of your bedroom even louder once your fingers latch onto the gluttonous curve of his fattened balls. Squeezing-

“S-so dirty- so dirty, princess…” And part of Gojo doesn’t know why he’s letting his traitorous hands wander onto the back of your scalp. Doesn’t know why he’s plunging just a few more inches past your prettily-pouted lips - you were his princess and he was…not treating you like royalty.

The Gojo in this game had always been so smooth. So suave. Taking his sweet, sweet time to hold your hand and talk to you about the politics of your kingdom.

Right now he was curving his thick thighs to flex around your shoulder and feeding you every saccharine inch you could possibly swallow up. “Can you- can you take more? Take this biiiig fuckin’ cock?”

You’re being choked in a locked hold by his powerful legs, and you’ve never been wetter. Practically puddling out a syrupy pond on the sheets underneath you.

Tugging out the thick nub of his thumb to smear those honeyed splatters of his precum at the corners of your mouth, you can only grin as you let your sentence translate into thrumming vibrations. “Mhmm— Settling into it s-so well, aren’t ya, Tooooru?”

“F-fuck!” Gojo’s blushing tip glides shyly down the tight back of your throat, rovering all along each n’ every millimeter of space inside you. It only made your head bob faster to imagine how he would feel down there- “Don’t talk- don’t talk. Please don’t talk s’gonna make me…”

But you.

Oh, Gojo Satoru has read your character profile over 2489 times by now.

He’s memorized every factoid and morsel of knowledge there is to know about you - so of course, he should’ve known. Should’ve realized that babbling away those words would only make your sultry motions increase.

“Cum f’me like a good boy.”

And he does. 

You can only watch in awe when a pearlescent globule of cum gumdrops from his weepy orifice, one. Two. Three. Until Gojo was just drenching the entirety of your mouth with thickly viscous coatings of seed, until you were just drooling with a wadded mess of spittle and seed.

Salty flavor dripping down your tongue and flooding out. So much of it. Too much, Gojo was spurting out the thickest ribbons of creamy white as if he’d never cum before - and doesn’t plan to stop any time soon. 

More, more, more like it was the sound of your voice making him shiver. Making him whine like a zillion volts of electricity was running down his greedy spine. 

The moment you pull away, hefty oodles of cum hit Gojo’s toned abs with a wet splat! And your dear subject is wrangling out his hands towards you like he never wanted to let go.

“No- no! Please- please come back-” Crinkling tears trek their way down his dewy face, sensory pads of his fingers reaching out for you desperately, only for you to part away. “N-need your pretty mouth on me.”

You’re raising a brow, thumbing over his still-crying divot, “But don’tcha want something…else, Satoru?”

“Something- else?” He’s rasping out haltingly, head thoroughly swimming with nothing but you. Your heart glows with pride at the way he can barely form coherent sentences, “What…oh.”

But Gojo gets the idea soon enough when you’re hastily shedding away your outer robes. He fumblingly tries to help, of course, but the simple idea of helping a woman undress is too much for him - and he’s banished to simply watching you, one hand held underneath his nose in case of another…incident. 

Gown and undergarments hitting the floor, your gorgeous legs come to hike up, up, up- driveling mouth falling slack the moment they’re ending up rested on either side of his intoxicated head.

“Oh.” He wheezes intelligently up at your glistening cunt.

“Nothing else ta say?” Your heady purrs only make him blush, nuzzling his feverishly burning cheek against the spattered sheen of slick at your inner thigh. He’s making such a mess on purpose. Making himself a mess. 

“Well-” Gojo bats his long lashes up at you dangerously, clear planes of his glasses digging into the handsome apples of his cheeks. But he didn’t mind. Couldn’t even feel anything but the sweltering heat of your arousal. “-jus’ that- I want you to spit in my mouth, princess.”

And the very moment that sugar-coated sap, Gojo moans.

Eyes flickering shut at the taste of himself - the taste of you. A candied little tinge that he oh-so-badly needs more of - and without even a second of hesitation, he’s stuffing himself right there between your pretty legs. 

It doesn’t matter the rhythm. It doesn’t matter the rhyme. 

And Gojo doesn’t even know any - the very moment your puffy lips are meeting his kiss-bitten ones in a French kiss, he already knows that your cute cunt has taken him hostage.

Jaw clenching as he tries to memorize all those fanfics he guiltily read night after night, Gojo’s bumping up his cloudily condensed glasses further up his nose when he leaves one kiss. Two. “Ohhhh, your pussy tastes s-sooo good.”

And they each get messier and messier after the other. 

Letting the heaping dollops of your juices flood onto his roughened tastebuds, he’s letting his long tongue peek apart your gluey pussylips. Sliding the very tip up and down and round n’ round your slicked entrance. 

“The- the oh!” Gojo flinches just as your body arches even deeper once he pokes his fat muscle past your tight ring. Leaving such a slew of wet slurps with every drag, he was dirty. “-according to what I’ve read, th-the clitoris is found at the top of the vulva. It should be located where the hah- labia-”

His words cut off with what you swear sounds like a strangled whimper when you harshly fist your digits into his silken-soft strands and push.

And you don’t notice it at the time, hell, even Gojo doesn’t notice with just how ruined he was right about now. 

But the sole moment you’re manhandling him to your will makes his flushed crownhead geyser out a torrential of cum. 

Fountaining out waves and waves of seed that paint his hefty base with a frosted ring. Such thickened volumes for the nth time tonight. Just from the roughened way that you were pushing him to make out with your pretty pussy.

He wanted to be used.

“Used, huh?” You’re letting out a murky pant of laughter- fuck, did he say that out loud? “Wanna be u-used, Satoru- wanna keep that big mouth of yours hngh- full?”

He’s nodding. Nodding and nodding and nodding with every sloppy gyration that you bestow all down his features. Huffing and puffing through every gasping breath he manages to shudder in, he’s shooting out a good mass of saliva. “Yes- ride me. Ride me. Fucking ride my face. A-always wanted you to ride me- hngh- please.” 

And how could you deny him when he’s all begging like that?

Gluey ropes of spit and slick lacquer Gojo’s chin like a smooth polish, and he’s sticking against you like he was just as clingy. Jaw grinding against your kinetically moving pussy, the pointed edge of his nose weaves from between your leaky slit and ends up pressing right onto your clit-

“O-oh!” Your head tumbles backwards with an ever-tightening grip onto his sweat-dampened locks. “Yeah- right there–”

“Here? Here?” He sounds like he couldn’t quite believe it. The ravenous edge of his thumb curling right up your soppy slit and pinning down your hooded clit. Hard. “The glans clitoris r-right here. And I found it- I found it.” Breathing out a long whistle that makes your heated skin bristle with goosebumps, “I always wondered what would h-happen if I…”

You barely even have the time to react before you’re staring at the glisten of Gojo’s sharp canines sneaking up to your sensitive nub and biting.

And he didn’t expect this.

He didn’t expect it to be better than the fanfiction-

Because your generous cunt just cascades in another jet of sappy juices, glazing Gojo’s features sexily all the way from his dimpled grin up to his glasses. 

They’re dripping wet, waterlogged with treacly film of slick that forces him to gawk up at you from below with such a loving gaze. Just the way he’s peering up at you is enough to make your breaths hitch.

“Gonna- gonna write about this, y’know? H-hope you know that this changed my hah- fuckin’ life, my princess…my girl.” Gojo drawls out lazily, movements as slow as if he was slipping through molasses when he sinks the rounded tips of his cushy fingers into your slick-flooded entrance. “Gonna h-have you for breakfast- for ah- lunch…aaaand for dinner.”

With a pitchy whine, you’re tightening your hold onto his thick locks and mushing his face so close. Close enough that you could already feel the mushy pout of his lips and that lazy chuckle.

Only then do you realize that he’s doing this on purpose. Mouthing off until you’re making both his chilling frames and his regal nose clash at the target of your clit with every repeated swivel, each glissading snog of his tongue making you throb. 

Everywhere. Anywhere. Everywhere and anywhere that he could reach.

“Such a dirty boy, huh?” You muse, swearing that that only makes him even sloppier. “S’that what you are? Ngh- bet you’ve never tasted a p-pussy before, huh?”

“N-nooo- haven’t. But are they all so…fucking delicious?” And he’s lapping up every sensual ounce, not letting even a tiny speckle go to waste. Because Gojo Satoru was kissing your pretty pussy like he could only dream of those long, lonely nights. 

You were a fucking dream - his dream.

The full force of his desperation hitting you when Gojo’s letting his drunken head loll ever-so-slightly backwards to take a good, long admiring look at your cunt. And you wonder if he could even see with his glasses all sodden and filthy like that. 

You wonder if he even realized when he’s leaving a lingering swat! of his plush fingertips right onto the bullseye of your pulsing button, and then another few at your fleshy channel. 

And it was so unfair how he was pummeling your poor gummy walls with swipe after swipe of his eager fingerpads working your glutinous walls open. Probing his neatly manicured fingers perfectly into your most tender spots. “Like that?”

“Sh-shiiit–” You’re mewling at the tautly coiling build-up at your cunt. Further and further. You felt like you were about to snap. “-is- is this my first time or yours, Toru–”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” And Gojo’s palming his engulfing hands over the jiggling mounds of your ass to drag you like some ragdoll even deeper onto his sloppy maw. You’re forced to slap your hand onto the royal headboard to get at least some semblance of balance. “Jus’ want you- need you.”

Gawping up at you - he looks just as fucked-out as you feel. Blushing oh-so-innocently with his lecherous mouth slithering to steal a loud mwah! planted onto your salivating pussy. And then a final, weighty wad of spit. “Need me to be yours.” 

With a final, trembling shove of Gojo’s pretty face pliantly against your hot core, you’re cumming. Riding out your peak with stuttering rotations all over his lolled-out, bumpy tastebuds.

“Fuh-fuck!” You didn’t even care if you were getting his glasses messy at this point - he’d already made enough of a mess out of you. Embarrassingly so. “S’s-so good. Hah- gotta put your mouth to work more o-often, Satoru.”

And you can’t stop the way that your jaw parts into a soft oh! every time he pinches your bulbous clit at the very tip of every single one of your peaks. Right on time. More on sheer animal instinct than anything because Gojo’s still reeling from the fact that he made you cum.

He made you cum.

He made you cum.

He made you cum.

Babbling away just as stupidly as he had mere moments before, your orgasm is…magical. None of these haughty princes or dukes could ever compare to this. “S-such a good ngh- boy f’me.”

That is, until you feel Gojo tenderly curl his fingers around one of your stray ones to form a fist. Nudging it against one of yours in a…fistbump? 

“You have…no…fucking idea.” He’s letting out a drenching ptwah! of spittle, all the masses and rivulets of your sickeningly sweet juices sliding all the way down his tongue and pooling at the back of his throat. Like he always wanted your taste there.

And you’re still feeling the twinging tremors down your spine, flurries of stars bursting behind your hooded lids when he lets his sinfully long tongue slather your fluttering cunt with another hot kiss. 

Nose crinkling at how you’re stagnating your vigorous cadence, he bats his lashes up at your shocked stare - and you already know what his sapphire gaze is begging for before he even asks.

“Toru-”

“More.” Gojo interrupts you - and he knows he’ll beat himself up for it later. Maybe he’ll even…make it up to you. But for now, the only thing replaying on his cottony mind was just how perfect you looked cumming all over his mouth - even the specially-paid NSFW scenes didn’t go into this much detail. 

He was in heaven. 

You feel the humid brush of his tongue between your saturated pussylips, pleading. Begging. “Wan’ more- wanna taste you more, princess- please-”

And Gojo looks so fucking heartbroken the very moment those lips part with such a wet slurp! A low whine curdling at the back of his throat, his glossy lips curve downwards into a jutted-out pout.

He’s chasing after your pussy with absolutely no shame, greedy fingertips digging into the curve of your ass while he nudges you closer and closer. Stealing tiny kittenish licks, stealing longing whiffs just to smell the scent of your pussy.

“No- no- want- please-” He’s rambling away, half-lidded eyes widening with alarm. Like you were taking away his favorite dessert right from under his nose, and Gojo was not having it. 

But you knew a thing or two about ruling. 

And it’s with such smug satisfaction that you get to push down a wolfish Gojo so hard he collides back onto the mattress and bounces. 

Giggling - giggling, “S’this mean I get to…fuck you now?”

Oh, it’s spoken like a mantra. A true confession that he never even imagined would come out from those lips of his. 

You’re nodding, “Mhm— m’thinking that good boys get to hah- fuck me.” 

He’s ogling you right now when you meander between his milky legs just as you did before. Except, this time, you’re stopping right at the defined v-line of his sculptured hips. Darting thumb rubbing back and forth over the pooling streaks of cum from just before. 

“Did you cum without me ngh- again, Toru?” You’re teasing, and he almost feels so pathetic the way his mouth latches onto the curve of your sheened digits and sucks. “That’s not what a good-”

“I am I am-” Gojo insists, brows furrowing. He’s so unsure what to do, so unsure what to even think other than looping his arms around your waist to tug, tug, tug you ever-closer. It’ll never be enough. “Promise I’ll be a- ngh-”

Shit.

Your fingers shackle a tight grip around his pale, prespired neck. He looks so gorgeous squirming underneath you like this - squirming for more, that is. 

“Then you better promise to fuck me really good, Satoru.” Your whispers come out in a honeyed tone that wafts against his reddening ears. Maybe because of that, maybe because of the way your nails claw marks, you feel his plumpened head twitch. “Really good.”

His head lolls all the way into your grasp, he was done. Murmuring, “I’ll be a really, really good boy- ma’am.”

That did it.

And before Gojo knows it, you’re letting his syrupy mushroom tip slip in a few thick inches with ease. Geysers of his pre trickling out from between the tight stretch of your gluey hole, sinking in more and more.

Gojo’s mouth opens with a slow leak of drool with just how warm you were hugging him from the inside. Your candied walls so fucking clingy that he finds himself choking out a huff, planting two steadying hands on either side of your waist and pushing-

“Oh fuck- oh fuck.” His eyes grow adorable wide, stare perched right down where he was disappearing in and out of you in mindless, rapid ruts just to bully himself inside. “Th-this feels nothing like my P-Pocketpussy3000-”

“Toru…” Your words come out in a growl, crescent nail leaving neat indentations on his column of skin. 

“J-just feels so much better, my girl.” Gojo insists, something swirling deeply in his eyes that makes your heartbeat irregular. “You’re so…so warm and- and wet. That stupid rubber could never compare to the adventitia and musclaris and- and I’m really fucking you.”

He is. 

He was, at least until only a few vulgarly deep strokes probing in about halfway down his swollen shaft makes Gojo bump his ridged slit against one of those spots. The globe of Gojo’s proud cockhead leaves a hefted thud! that thunders pure bliss into your fuzzy head and makes you clench.

And it makes him cum. Again.

Wet spurts of warm seed splashing into each n’ every inch inside of you and filling you all the way up to the brim. There’s so many of his copious ribbons sloshing around inside of you, and it doesn’t even make Gojo’s tempo slow down.

It doesn’t even make him falter. 

“Sh-shiiiit-” He’s hissing, lower lip worried and fussed between his teeth until you were sure he’d be drawing blood. “Cumming—!”

Dipping down a few fingers to part your soppy lips, Gojo’s thrusts get more relentless when he catches his eyes on the steady waterfall of cum and slick seeping into his hoodie. Fucking the webbed mess deeper - but it only wrings out more pearly wads streaming down. 

Gojo’s voice wrenches out from the very back of his throat in a stubborn mewl, just about five octaves higher than you’re used to. “I came…inside.”

The one n’ only warning you get before he hooks an arm around the small of your back and flips the two of you over. Easily. 

Back sinking into the velvety bed-covering, your spine arches in a geometrical semicircle off the mattress as Gojo takes the blasphemous opportunity to bottom out. His meaty tip finally meets the target of your spongy cervix, breeder balls clashing stickily into the split end of your folds with a hulking thwack!

And you’re almost wondering at just how it was possible that Gojo - nervous, bumbling Gojo Satoru who’d never even held hands with a woman before - had the willpower and strength to overpower a seasoned fighter like you.

But that’s when he tugs his utterly sullied hoodie off and you’re rendered thoughtless. Mouth watering at the toned ridges and curves that bulged all over his Herculean body.

Gojo wasn’t just toned - he was fucking jacked.

And all yours for the taking.

Just your greedy stare is enough to wash his cheekbones with a scorching blush, as if he wasn’t near-nine inches deep inside you already. You gasp when his tongue pokes out to catch a few dripping splat! splat! splats! of your slick still dripping from his glasses. “I-I read in a director’s cut that you like men with abs so I…” 

And before you can even respond, his hips do all the talking for you. Striking your own with a deafening pap! of skin-on-skin, broad pecs heaving with a sharp inhale as if he didn’t even realize what he was doing. Wasn’t in control. 

Two of his doughy palms veer underneath your now-jittery thighs and hoist them up effortlessly to dangle over his shoulders. 

Gojo’s letting off a low grunt when his curvaceous knees slide wider across the pricey bedsheets. All the while mumbling, “N’ just because m’a hah- virgin doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two. Like- I saw this thing ngh- o-online called a…” Bending you like a pliant lawnchair down, down, down- “-a mating press.”

Online? Mating press? You didn’t know what he was rambling on nonsensically about now, but maybe you could excuse that with the fact that he was stretching you out stupid. 

“What a pretty boy.” You’re managing out, fingers unsticking a few strands of pearly white plastering onto his forehead. “Now s-stop teasing and hngh- fuck me.”

Your words are jolting such a dark, primal part of his brain. Eyes hooded, teeth pulling back with a low whimper of ah! The bed sings out a protesting creak when Gojo’s hand comes slamming! down onto the poor frame. Spitting out, “I-I can’t stop…fuck- I can’t stop. Won’t-”

He’s pushing and pushing his ravenous hips in animalistic little humps, the cylindrical shape of his cock swabbing in sultry circles around your gooey insides. Already splitting you apart snugly to the brim, but still he’s drilling in for more.

“You hafta move, Satoru-” Even your most gentle tone is enough to make his strawberry divot sugarcoat you in a thickly viscous few spatters of pre.

And when he talks he sounds wild, “Do I- haaaah- do I really hafta move? Jus’ wanna lose my virginity like this. Wanna stay inside you forever and ever and ever.”

He was already pussydrunk.

And it’s so cute it makes your heart clench. All over six feet of him melting into you by now; head heatedly shoved against the crook of your neck, motions glissading a slip n’ slide of his sexily defined abs pinned to your front. Powerless. 

Gojo blinks up at you through thoroughly hazy eyes when you tilt his face back up to face yours, and the deep eye-contact makes him blush. 

“But I really, really wan’ you to hah- fuck me.” You pout, and you already know by the stutter in his labored breathing that you have him wrapped around your cute lil’ finger. Jostling your hips in a slight buck, “Look-she’s begging for ya already.”

Oh. 

“Is- is she really?” Gojo sighing out in surprise, eyes pondering down to where he was making your puffed-up pussy folds bulge. Slipping out a gasp before he’s clutching onto his nose to stop any more bleeding.

Your slobbering lips coated with a glimmer of his spit and cum, so very his that Gojo finds himself subconsciously nodding along to the sappy squelches bubbling from below. 

“Yes- yes you’re right–” Propelling a slow drag of his hips to sweep every hidden orifice of yours inside, “Oh! Ya got l-louder- so you agree-”

He’s hiking up your legs even further up his shoulders, interlocking them with one massively flexing bicep held behind his head. Eyes still locked below - only then do you realize that he’s not talking to you. 

And then again. And again. And again and again until Gojo was striking your poor cervix with repeated battering rams of his plump cock. Dense balls stinging against your ass with ringing thwacks. Spherical bruises of his circumference being indented over n’ over it’s like he doesn’t even realize. 

Didn’t even know he was doing anything other than wrenching out the most sinful noises from your goopy pussy. 

“Mhm- such a pretty ngh- pussy.” Spitting out the very word like it was embarrassing, two sizeable fingers latch around the plump peak of your clit. Transfixed. You wondered whether he even remembered his own name. “Such a pretty clit.”

“Fuck!” You’re halfway through sobbing when he sends shockwaves of pleasure all across your body. And even more so when one tilted drive of all his inches leaves a skidding skim down the area of your g-spot. “There- right there, Satoru-”

He’s gaping up at you as if suddenly snapped out of a hypnotic trance, only to fall into an all-new one. Disbelieving mouth parted slightly, he breathes, “I’m…fucking you. I’m actually- ohhh fuck m’fucking you- like really, truly. This isn’t a dream.” Like he just realized - and he just did. “M’giving you my cock- making you t-take alllll of it-”

Never in his life did he think anything could ever feel this good. He was never going back. He would never be the same. 

Your drooling pussy was molding around him so nicely, taking onto the very shape of his long shaft. Massaging every inflamed vein poking against your splashed walls, so warm with the leftover puddles of his own sticky cum.

 He’s worshipping you, tilting his head to place a heady trailway of wet kisses down each of your ankles. “M’yours so m’-” Then your calves, your tits, your collarbones, everywhere and anywhere-

“-m’gonna make feel h-hah good.” His nose scrunches with focus, a few fat ends of Gojo’s fingers come down from pinning your ankles to splay out on your tummy. All bloated with his thick outline that even through his fogged-up glasses, he swears he could see a bulge. “Need to find it- need to.”

Pound after pound being placed desperately onto everywhere he could reach inside of you. You can feel the baking hot swash of his sap coating you in a second skin. Each dab of his ballooned crownhead leaves behind a marking bead of buttery pre. 

And maybe it was the way you’re feeling the slow trickle of all his sappy torrentials inside you, but you’re gurgling out a little, “What- what are you-”

“The g-spot.” Gojo answers your messy blithers of syllables with a tender rub onto your clit. Though, he wasn’t too far behind himself, if the way his digits trembled told you anything. “It’s s-supposed to be somewhere in the hah- anterior vaginal wall, between your pretty hole and the urethra. Often said to be stimulated about a few inches ngh- up-” 

But this time, you’re the one cutting him off. With a rapid, deprived rut that bustles his left-leaning curve to head in a jackhammer precisely towards your bulging g-spot. 

And then you see white. 

Perhaps from the sheer shock of him leaving a good French kiss that tenderizes your sweetest hidden coves, perhaps from the way that the both of you are cumming. 

“Shit- shiiiit-” You’re perking your ass to smack against his in lewd little paps, half-formulated moans flooding your mouth with each delicious thrust being planted right onto that spot. Gojo’s fucking you through each of your edges, over and over until you feel yourself crashing back-to-back into not one, not two, but three orgasms. “Really did fuck me- hngh- ah-”

Before you even realize, you’re throwing your arms around Gojo’s rippling shoulder muscles to claw a few artistic lines of red. And he loves it- fuck, it makes him cum even harder. 

“S-spit in my mouth, ma’am.”

And when you do, he latches onto yours with a messy, messy open-mouthed makeout. Groaning around his second-favorite activity of sucking your cute tongue - his most favorite activity being fucking this depraved cunt of yours. 

Cumming and cumming until he physically can’t. Steady rivers of seed logging up whatever remnant space inside your snug cunt before he sputters out sheer nothingness. 

A shiver wracks through Gojo’s body with the way he was cumming dry. And once he spies down a few whipped globs of it spilling out to form a velvety ring around his base, he’s plugging your leaky entrance with a few free fingers.

Lapping up that trickling excess with a slow suck peering right into your eyes before he seals you with his jostling digits back up again.

“Love it- love it love it love it-” He’s letting loose with each spasm of parching cum overspilling your flooded insides, those ribbony meshes swirl all around his pumping cock and trickle down in a creamy stream. Coating his twitchy balls no matter how much he tries to make you milk up every ounce, so much of it. Hot. “Love it- love being your good boy- I love you.”

Gojo’s heart races when you only plant a cute peck onto his sheened glasses, and then another onto his mouth. Resting your sweaty head against his very own, “How would ya like to be my own royal consort, Toru?”

Ah, it was virtually a proposal. To stay by your side forever and ever and ever - the only thing he’s ever wanted, really.

And Gojo’s about to kiss your awaiting lips senseless as an answer- that is, he was about to before both your ears chime with an undeniable PING!

Before an agitating, gratingly familiar voice rings across your heady atmosphere, “Congratulations user: [Satorulovesprincess] on completing Mission: No-Longer-Virgin!” You’re wincing at the sterile glow of that screen once more. “Please await the new updates to the program Sweetheart Online.”

And you both barely even have time to register those words before there’s a thunderous creak! from the empty space of your royal bed.

Except…the bed wasn’t so empty anymore. 

Right with your heated proximity was a man - a beautiful man. All long legs, and inky hair that ran down to his slender waist, twinkling amethyst eyes rounded in the exact same shock that shone in Gojo’s right about now. 

“Suguru?”

“Satoru!” Before he’s tilting his head towards you, and perhaps most glaringly, the way that Gojo was still scouring deeply inside you. A delicate blush tints his - Suguru’s - high cheekbones, voice cracking embarrassingly at the end. “P-princess.”

And something about his tone made your cunt quiver - just in time for Geto to shuffle the tightening crotch of his pants. Something that Gojo noticed, if the way he was crushing you to his body even tighter said anything.

“Let me guess-” Gojo tilts his head, a sleazily drunken smirk curving the edges of his ruddied lips. “-the truck got you haaaah- don’ squeeze me like that, my girl– too?”

“It- it was ramen poisoning actually…” Geto’s deep baritone trails off, struggling to rip his eyes away from you as the screen flickers once more. 

“Sweetheart Online updates completed! Commencing Love Rival (Three’s Company) arc. User: [Sugulovesprincess] joined.”

A/N. MAN I love loserboy Gojo hehehe- hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

Pietro aka quicksilver aka best wingman

The Other Guy

summary: pietro proves to y/n that bucky is into her by doing everything in his power to make him jealous

pairing: bucky x reader, pietro x reader [pretended]

word count: 3.6k+

warnings: mentions of smut, jealousy, annoyed bucky, confrontation

a/n: literally wanna vom just thinking about hurting bucky like this i would never also this is shit but its been chilling in my drafts for 8 millions years so i decided to post it

“You are so full of shit,” Y/N laughed, absentmindedly stirring the oatmeal in her bowl. She sat at the kitchen island, blinded by the early morning sun, her pink sock clad feet swinging above the ground. She was dressed in only her tiny pyjama shorts and a hoodie, hair messy and the side of her face slightly red due to the position she slept in.

Pietro stood by the counter, dumping a bunch of different berries into a blender. It was only 8:30am and most of the compound was still fast asleep. Y/N and Pietro, however, made plans the night before to get up early, train together and then go out and buy a present for Wanda; Pietro’s way of apologising for crashing her date a few days back. The witch hadn’t spoken to him since and Pietro was slowly growing exasperated. 

“I’m serious, Y/N,” Pietro chuckled, putting the lid on the blender and glancing at her over his shoulder. “He’s into you. I can prove it.”

Y/N shook her head, rolling her eyes and pushing another spoonful of bland oatmeal past her lips.

Pietro switched on the blender, his back facing the shorter girl as he worked on preparing his usual morning smoothie. The loud noise of the blender continued to buzz inside Y/N’s ears even after Pietro had switched off the appliance. 

“I’d like to see you try, Maximoff,” Y/N smirked, provoking a quiet laugh from the speedster’s side. He popped off the lid of the blender, glanced inside to make sure his smoothie was ready and then made his way across the kitchen to grab a glass.

“I’m going to murder Bucky if he keeps eating my cereal. This stuff is gross,” she complained, pushing her bowl away with a roll of her eyes. She couldn’t understand how Steve could push the tasteless oatmeal past his lips. Unfortunately, since Bucky had cleared the cupboards of her usual breakfast cereal, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“Yeah, right. You wouldn’t lay a finger on Buck if your life depended on it,” Pietro laughed, soon realising he had to empty the dishwasher in order to find a clean glass. He bent over, focusing on the task at hand as Y/N pushed herself up and placed her bowl of oatmeal in the sink.

“You know me all too well,” she murmured, glancing inside Pietro’s blender and then back at him to make sure he wasn’t looking. Realising he wasn’t, Y/N grabbed her glass of water from the island, dumped the contents into the sink and hurried to fill it with the berry smoothie instead. When she was finished, she hopped onto the counter and sipped innocently on Pietro’s drink until he finally realised what she had done. 

“Thief,” he narrowed his eyes at her, abandoning his mission of emptying the dishwasher. He looked towards the now empty blender, realising he’d have to make more if he wanted to have a berry smoothie for breakfast. 

“Not a thief. Bucky’s a thief because he stole my cereal. I’m just… taking what’s rightfully mine. I did the grocery shopping yesterday.”

Pietro laughed, making his way across the kitchen and coming to a stop opposite Y/N.

“I don’t think he’d like to hear you say that. He’s too into you to not be upset by such words,” he teased.

“Right, he’s so into me he keeps stealing my cereal to piss me off. So romantic,” Y/N rolled her eyes sarcastically and Pietro shook his head at her. He watched her expression as she sipped on the smoothie, wondering if it tasted as good as he hoped.

When Y/N didn’t say anything about it, Pietro took a few steps forwards so that he was standing between her parted legs and reached for one of the straws sitting in a glass container behind Y/N on the counter.

She quirked a brow as he slid the straw into her glass. He leaned in, captured the end between his teeth and took a generous sip of the smoothie.

“Um, excuse you,” she objected, trying her hardest to hold back her laughter.

Y/N held the glass in both hands, far enough from herself for Pietro to drink from, and yet not far enough to not feel his breath on her skin. They were standing only inches apart and to anyone watching the interation could appear to be awfully intimate; so it wasn’t a surprise that only seconds later Y/N had to tear her eyes away from Pietro upon hearing someone clearing their throat.

Bucky was standing leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his muscular chest, one eyebrow cocked expectantly. He eyes the two Avengers already occupying the kitchen, then focused solely on Pietro with a confused glance. 

The speedster didn’t acknowledge Bucky’s stare, only looking at him for a brief second before turning back to Y/N. He placed the straw back between his lips and sucked. 

When Y/N looked down at him, Pietro was smirking knowingly. 

“Morning, Buck,” Y/N said cheerfully, trying to seem casual despite Pietro still standing between her parted legs, his hands now resting on either side of her hips, mindlessly humming as he continued sipping on the smoothie. He stepped even closer.

“Morning,” Bucky grumbled in response, strolling past the two of them and yanking open the fridge. He glanced inside, grabbed a tub of ice cream from the freezer and shut the door with unnecessary force. He found a spoon in the cutlery drawer, once more glanced at Pietro and Y/N and headed towards the exit.

When he was out of sight, Pietro finally retreated, clearly satisfied with himself by the shit eating grin across his face.

“What the hell was that about?” Y/N whispered, scared Bucky might still be close enough to hear. Pietro plucked the now empty smoothie glass out of her hands and chuckled as he placed it in the sink.

“Told you I could prove to you he’s into you,” he answered nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders and reaching out to plug out the blender.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “By almost feeling me up in front of him?”

Pietro scoffed. “I did no such thing,” he protested. “I’m going to prove to you he’s into you. With my help, his possessive self will be asking you out within two days.”

Y/N expelled a humourless chuckle. “Sure he will.”

“I can guarantee you that. Go and change in your training gear and we’ll get started right away,” he challenged, and Y/N eyed him suspiciously before sliding off of the counter.

“Fine, but if this doesn’t work out, you’ll be the one explaining to everyone why you’ve been all over me for two days,” she told him sternly, pointing her index finger in his direction.

Pietro grinned, holding his arms up in surrender. “Fine by me.”

By the time Y/N was dressed in her training gear, her hair brushed back into something that reassembled practicality, Pietro was already waiting for her outside the gym. She appeared behind him with a bottle of water in her hands and managed to scare him a little before he pushed open the door.

“Good choice of clothing,” Pietro commented quietly, nodding towards her shorts, “They’ll surely get his attention.“ 

Y/N walked past, looking at Pietro over her shoulder and furrowing her brows in confusion.

"His attention?” She questioned, and then finally realised that the gym wasn’t empty like she had expected it would be. Steve was running on the treadmill and Bucky was beating the hell out of a punching bag. When they entered, Steve waved a quick greeting but Buck only grumbled, causing Steve to shoot him a confused glance.

Y/N and Pietro strolled over to a bench at the end of the room and set their stuff down.

“I knew he’d be down here after what he saw in the kitchen. He’s probably picturing my face on the punching bag. He needs to blow off some steam,” Pietro murmured, only loud enough for Y/N to hear. 

When she looked towards Bucky, she noticed sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. She looked elsewhere, deciding to take a sip of her water.

“It’s a shame you’re not the one helping him do that. I’m sure it would be more satisfying for him - and you - if that punching bag wasn’t the only thing getting pounded by him.”

Y/N began to choke on her drink. Her body shook with violent coughs, getting the attention of the other two guys across the room. Y/N could feel tears pooling in her eyes as she attempted to stop herself from quite literally… dying.

“Is she alright?” Steve called out, stopping the treadmill as Pietro hit Y/N on the back, attempting to stop her from choking.

When she calmed down, she answered feebly, “I’m fine. Pietro was just… telling me a funny story.”

Bucky scoffed at that and Y/N almost didn’t catch it, but she did; and so did Steve.

“What’s wrong with you this morning?” He asked his best friend, but Bucky only shrugged, watching as Steve headed off to do some heavy lifting.

Pietro nodded for Y/N to follow him to the padded flooring. They did some stretching in silence and while Y/N worked on her arms, she spared another glance in Bucky’s direction. 

His sweat soaked shirt had disappeared and his face showed deep concentration as his fists furiously slammed against the surface of the red punching bag. He was light on his feet, sweat trickling down his face and chest, damp hair pulled back into a messy high pony. He looked damn good.

“Ahem,” Pietro pretended to cough and when Y/N looked back at him he was smirking. He had clearly noticed her staring and was amused by the expression on her face. Pietro handed her her sparring equipment.

“You’re drooling,” he noted, and she smacked his arm playfully.

“Am not,” she protested, finally pulling on her gloves and making her way towards the centre of the mat.

She made sure she was steady, got into position and when Pietro was ready the fighting began. Y/N pulled a few of the signature moves herself and Nat had come up with, and it wasn’t long before Pietro was lying on his back on the floor.

He got up each time and by the fourth time Y/N had him on the mat, she was growing kind of bored. That is, until Pietro managed to kick her legs out from under her and she fell with a loud thud. The silver haired speedster was quick to pin her down, one hand around her neck, the other holding the back of her thigh which she had wrapped around his waist.

When Y/N glanced to the left, knowing that the round was over and that Pietro would retreat any second, she noticed Bucky watching them from the sidelines, using a black towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Pietro seemed to notice him looking, too, because soon he was leaning down and bringing his lips to Y/N’s ear, his hair covering her eyes so she could no longer see Bucky.

He remained silent for a second then whispered. “He’s going to leave in three… two… one”.

The door to the gym slammed shut.

Pietro pushed himself up, his grin once more appearing. Y/N’s wanted to roll her eyes at his confidence but she had to admit, Pietro was damn good at this. It was as if he had his sister’s powers and could read Bucky’s mind. Then it hit her.

“Wanda told you he’s into me, didn’t she?" 

Pietro looked like a deer in headlights.

He inhaled sharply, then sheepishly admitted, "yeah, okay, she did.”

“Which means you’re not as cunning as you think you are. Which means this could not end as well as you expect it to." 

He shrugged his shoulders. "To some extent, maybe.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes and then next thing Pietro knew her legs were around his neck and she was forcing him down onto the floor, swiftly moving to pin him down, face first on the mat. She held his hands behind his back.

“You’re an idiot,” she told him, and Pietro laughed in response, hissing when she pulled at his wrists.

“An idiot who’s helping you get laid.”

Their sparring session continued for another twenty minutes, followed by some cardio and lifting. Steve seemed to have followed Bucky because he was no where to be seen and Y/N didn’t see either of them before herself and Pietro left the compound to buy Wanda’s gift. 

Finding the perfect apology present took them the majority of the afternoon and after grabbing lunch together and arguing over whether or not Pietro’s plan would work, they returned home. They waved a quick greeting to all the other avengers who sat around the lounge before heading straight to Y/N’s room to wrap up the gift.

Of course, the process of them wrapping up the present resulted in another play fight over which colour wrapping paper and how big of a bow to use. This led to Y/N’s hair looking like a bird’s nest, her already baggy sweater falling off her shoulder and her sticky lipstick smudged across her cheek.

By the time they were finished, they both looked like a mess and Pietro had bits of tape stuck to his face like a child on Christmas morning.

He thanked her for the help before heading to his room and asked her to tell Wanda to find him.

Y/N didn’t bother fixing her appearance before heading to the lounge where everyone else was sitting around watching a rom-com. As asked, she told Wanda that Pietro wanted to see her and then headed to the kitchen to grab a drink. 

There, Bucky was already making coffee. He remained silent, leaning against the counter as Y/N grabbed a mug and dumped a tea bag into it, staring at the buzzing kettle between them. 

When she looked up, Bucky was studying her carefully.

“Your, uh… Lipstick is smudged,” he told her, pointing to his own mouth rather sheepishly. Y/N grabbed a paper towel and said nothing as she began to wipe it off. Bucky continued to look at her.

“No, you’re just making it worse,” he chuckled lightly and took the towel from her hand, stepping closer to help her. Y/N stayed unmoving as he held her chin lightly, wiping off the redness. 

“Thanks,” she muttered, hearing the kettle switch off.

“You need to tell your lover boy to be less sloppy,” Bucky noted, stepping back and throwing the tissue into the trash. Y/N cleared her throat before moving over to pour the boiling water into the two mugs.

She didn’t say anything to his previous words and when their drinks were made, they both headed back to the lounge. Bucky sat down between Nat and Steve and Y/N situated herself on the vacant love seat to the right of the TV. 

She tried to focus on the screen but she couldn’t help but feel Bucky’s eyes on the side of her face. However, every time she’d glance over at him, he’d look away as if nothing happened.

It wasn’t long before Wanda and Pietro returned, both smiling, obviously having made up. Wanda quickly situated herself on the pile of cushions and blankets on the floor and Pietro moved across the room to where Y/N sat. 

He made himself comfortable, his head in her lap, casually glancing over at Bucky to check if he was looking. Out of pure curiosity, Y/N looked over at him, too, and felt disappointment when she realised he wasn’t looking back at her. Instead, Buck’s eyes were glued to the screen, his arm casually thrown over Steve’s shoulder, his lips pursed.

Maybe he wasn’t jealous the way Pietro wanted him to be.

The movie continued and when it ended, Bruce got up to put on the sequel. This gave everyone an opportunity to go to the toilet, grab more snacks or chat for a while. It was then Pietro rolled over onto his stomach and looked up at Y/N, almost as if he knew she wanted to say something.

“I don’t think he’s all that bothered. Maybe he’s just not a fan of PDA in general,” Y/N whispered to him but Pietro only rolled his eyes. 

He remained silent as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, threw his arm over Y/N’s shoulder and pulled her legs over his lap. Y/N didn’t say anything but she could already feel Wanda and Tony eyeing them curiously from across the room; and although she wanted to explain to them there was nothing going on between her and Pietro, she remained quiet.

The movie began and the lights were switched off, the late hour resulting in a cozy dark room. It was getting kind of chilly, courtesy of Tony’s inability to sit in a room without the windows open, so Y/N didn’t actually mind having Pietro to cuddle. In fact, when his hand began slowly stroking her calf, she wiggled even closer and nuzzled her face into his chest. 

Suddenly, Tony spoke up.

“So, uh, am I the only one who’s confused about what’s going on?”

Y/N lifted her head and looked over at him to see what he was talking about. Upon realising he was already staring back at her with a confused frown, it only took her a second to figure out what the hell he meant. 

“Since when are you two a thing?” Tony continued, chuckling a little. “Yesterday I heard you two calling each other names and now here you are.” He waved his hand in their direction rather dramatically. “Doesn’t anyone else find it weird?”

Natasha then decided to pipe in. “Yeah, I mean, I’m a little confused myself. I thought you liked that other guy.” By other guy Natasha clearly meant Bucky, having been the person who listened to Y/N ramble about her crush day and night.

“What other guy?” Bucky asked, looking from Nat to Y/N, but both of them only shrugged, not wanting to give it away.

“Guys, that’s enough. Let them be,” Steve decided to interfere, not liking the way in which this conversation was heading. He wasn’t very fond of the rest of the group holding this intervention. 

“Steve, stop pretending to not care. You were just as confused as everyone else after what happened in the gym today,” Bucky announced, and the rest of the group looked at each other, almost as if waiting for someone to elaborate. No one did. 

“So,” Tony once again spoke up. “Dare to enlighten us about the situation?” He eyed Y/N and Pietro again. Y/N was seconds away from telling everyone the whole truth. However, before she even managed to open her mouth, Pietro was already speaking.

“I don’t know. We’re just sorta… hanging out, I guess,” he tried to seem casual.

Bucky scoffed, looking at Pietro as if he had lost his mind.

“Hanging out? Please, cut the bullshit." 

At this point, the whole room was holding its breath.

"You damn well know I like her and you’ve been rubbing your new relationship in my face all day. But let me tell you one thing,” he turned to Y/N. “Whatever it is you two have, it won’t last longer than a week.”

Y/N remained silent for a moment, and so did everyone else, not wanting to interfere. Even Steve seemed to have locked his mouth with an imaginary key and kept his preaching to himself for once. Then, after several seconds, Y/N finally responded timidly.

“Truth be told, it wasn’t gonna last more than two days.”

“What?” Bucky’s brows knitted together into a confused frown.

Y/N inhaled sharply and groaned at his stupidity. She pushed herself up from the sofa. Uncertain, Bucky stood up, too.

“I’ve been hinting that I like you for months! Who do you think this other guy Natasha mentioned was, huh? It was you, you absolute dumb ass! I’m not into Pietro for God’s sake!”

Sam began laughing but Wanda clamped her hand over his mouth.

“Wait, what?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Bucky’s stupidity and Steve got up, placing a hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“I think what she means, Buck, is that her and Pietro were trying to make you jealous,” he explained, but Bucky only looked more confused than before.

“What?”

He simply couldn’t get any slower.

And so, not seeing any different way of going about this, Y/N breathed in and began trudging in his direction. Afraid Y/N was on her way to smack him for being silly, Bucky took a step back and fell back onto the sofa. His eyes displayed utmost confusion as Y/N climbed onto his lap with her legs on either side of him, grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him. 

Right there. In front of the whole team.

A series of cheers, shouts and whistles followed. Bucky’s surprise melted away and soon he was wrapping his arms around Y/N’s middle, pulling her closer and kissing her back. It didn’t last long, but the kiss was pleasant, and when Y/N retreated, she realised everyone was still looking at her.

Catching Bucky’s gaze, she smiled sheepishly and knew that he finally understood what she meant.

“Does that explain it?” She murmured, and Bucky nodded, lips swollen and gaze blazing. 

Y/N sighed in relief and when she turned her head to look at the rest of the team, Pietro was cracking up at the other end of the room. He stood up, brushed off his jeans and said:

“You owe me one, Y/N.”

She smiled, turning her gaze back to Buck when the brunette finally spoke up. “As do I.”

I love being an alien

Finders Keepers

Summary: in which alien!reader crash lands right in front of Gojo and your story with him begins Word Count: 1k (just trialing a new concept so it's a quick opening) Warnings: a little cursing, allusions to experimentation and alien warfare, reader is naked but not in a sexual manner

“I can’t believe aliens actually exist,” Satoru mutters to himself. 

This has been an incredibly wild evening. 

When he stepped out of his apartment to throw the bins out, he hadn’t expected to see a blinding flash of light zoom past him and explode in the parking lot. Thank goodness for his infinity, otherwise he would not have fared as well as the minivan you landed on. 

Yes. 

You.

The woman who came straight from the sky and fell on top of a car, missing him by just two metres.

At first, he thought it was a curse; these things get pretty weird sometimes, after all. But using his Six Eyes, he could tell you were different. Sure, you looked like any other person, with arms and legs and a head. But you had a unique aura to you, positively otherworldly. 

If he was any other kind of man, he would have just left you there and pretended nothing happened — ignorance is bliss and whatnot — but what kind of Honoured One would he be if he didn’t do his duty and helped you out?

So, he slides down the massive crater you made (boy is that going to be a pain for maintenance to clean up) and carefully cradles your naked body in his arms, carefully so as to not touch bits and pieces no gentleman has a business looking at. Why are you naked anyways? 

Sensing people making their way down the stairs to inspect the commotion, he teleports back into his apartment quick as a flash before anyone could think to look through their windows. 

He throws a blanket at you and leaves you on the sofa as he paces the length of his living room and ponders what to do. On one hand, he could call the police and leave it up to them to deal with you. The government would know best about how to deal about falling space women, right? But then, don’t all the sci-fi movies talk about inhumane experimentation, weaponizing alien technology, and Area 51? 

That wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do, at all. 

And on the other hand, he could just take care of you himself. He has the means to, that’s for sure. You really don’t look any different from everyone else — surely, you need the same things he does: food, water, shelter and warmth.

Right?

Just as he’s about to pick up the phone to call his doctor friend, you begin rousing from sleep. Your eyes flutter open and they’re a normal colour, which freaks him out more if he’s going to be perfectly honest. 

“Uh,” Satoru scratches the back of his neck, shuffling on his feet a little, “hey? I’m Gojo Satoru. You can just call me Satoru, though. If you want, or can, I guess.”

You tilt your head, scanning his body, and you open your mouth. What comes out is definitely an alien language. Or maybe he needs to travel more. But he certainly does not comprehend a single thing that you say. 

Clearing his throat, he tries to smile comfortingly. “Okay, so I didn’t understand what you said. Sorry. But uh, do you need anything? Like, do you know where you are? Yeah, you definitely don’t know what I’m saying either, do you?”

You tilt your head again. 

“What is wrong with me? Seriously. What was I thinking bringing you home? You may have fallen from the sky but I’m the one that clearly hit my head. I really am an idiot.”

Glancing around the room, you don’t look any bit as frazzled and panicked as he is. Actually, you’re as cool as a cucumber, and there isn’t a hint of shame or embarrassment on your face when you push yourself off the sofa, blanket sliding down your body. 

“Woah! Woah!”

Satoru presses his hands to his eyes and leaves them there for a second or two before realising that does absolutely nothing and when he pulls them down, he doesn’t flinch when you’re standing before him, inquisitive eyes meeting his. 

His infinity is on and he’s ready to subdue you if you prove to be a threat, but so far, he’s simply letting you reorient yourself, getting used to your surroundings and giving you the opportunity to decide he’s not a bad guy. 

That being said, however, he’s still deciding whether to keep you or not. He doesn’t want you to be poked and prodded — that wouldn’t be a very cool welcome to planet Earth and he doesn’t need you to go around telling your alien friends humans suck, though they do. But he also doesn’t know if that’s the best decision. 

You could be a danger to jujitsu society, to his students, to the world. What if, right at this very moment, you’re leaking deadly radiation? And what if his infinity can’t keep it out? Can’t keep you out?

Gosh, there are so many things that could go wrong. 

It’s entirely possible too that you’re a blood sucking monster intent on wringing him dry for all he’s worth. Maybe you’re not even an alien. Maybe you’re a special kind of curse, the kind that can bypass his Six Eyes, though he’s fairly confident that’s not the case (there’s no one stronger than him, after all). 

What if this is Kenjaku all over again?

Yeah, on second thought, he should definitely call the police. Or Ijichi, or the Prime Minister of Japan, or whoever will believe him when he says there’s a naked, alien lady in his home, and no, he’s not a pervert playing out some sick fantasy.

But just as he’s lifting his phone, you lift your hand the same time he does and cover your eyes. 

Then you say his name in perfect Japanese with a sweet, soft voice, not a hint of hesitation or unsteadiness. You smile, eyes still obscured, and he feels himself mirroring your gleeful expression. 

“That’s right. I’m Satoru. It’s nice to meet you.”

He decides, there and then, to hell with radiation, alien armies, and the deadly risk you pose to everything he knows or cares about. The military, conspiracy theorists, and scientists be damned.

He’s going to keep you. 

Reblog to put one of these in your mutuals’ pocket when they’re not looking

every nanami headcannons post i see is like “nanami is a provider, nanami is a breadwinner...”

ARE YOU KIDDING. NANAMI NEEDS A WOMAN WHO MAKES BAG SO HE CAN QUIT HIS JOB AND BE A HOUSEHUSBAND.

this man HATES work and you’re telling me that he wants to be the sole provider? PLEASE be real for a second. nanami was built for domesticity. he needs a girl who can buy a cute little house by the sea where all he has to worry about is reading his books and loving his woman.

like this man will make sure you come home every night to a clean house and a warm dinner and then eat ur pussy like a champ. his girl takes care of him so he’s gonna take care of her and he’s gonna take care of her good.

service dom to end all service doms. you want dick after a long day of work? he’s gonna make you see stars and then take care of you like a princess. you want to be slapped around? sure. he’ll tie you up and use you, but best believe your cumming at least 4 times. you want it soft and gentle? that’s what you’ll get. anything for his hard working baby.

and once you're nice and worn out and sleeping comfortably in bed, he's going to the kitchen to make ur lunch for tomorrow. complete with a little note on the napkin reminding you how much he loves you.

nanami deserves a life as a malewife. keep that man barefoot and in the kitchen.

this is the correct opinion and i will not be arguing my point any further at this time. thank you for listening.

Sketch

Reblogs and comments are appreciated