Blitzø X Succubus!reader. You're Dragged Along By A Friend To Verosika Mayday's Anti-blitzø Party And

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

gojo and shoko who get a little too drunk together accidentally and find themself inside a bar bathroom dry humping each other

gojo is grabbing her ass, making her grind against the thigh he shoved between her legs. he hasn’t been drunk since he was in high school, and he forgot how much it amplifies the feeling of touch. he’s not drunk enough where he doesn’t know what’s happening, but he has a buzz in his head… and other places, lowering his inhibitions

“shoko…” he breathlessly moans between thrusts when she grips the outline of his cock through his pants. he has to bite his lip to suppress a whine when she finds the head and squeezes it through his pants.

“so hard from just a little kissing, gojo?” she teases, biting his bottom lip and making him groan.

“you’re being so sexy, it’s not fair.” he practically whines the words, pouting when she starts stroking the length of his cock. the pressure of her small hand feels so fucking good, even through the fabric, he’s unable to stop himself from thrusting into her hand.

“mmm, i like you like this.” her legs shake when she rubs her clothed pussy perfectly against his rough pants. her dress rode up over her ass, and the only thing between them is her thin panties and his pants.

“like what?” gojo asks, grunting when she squeezes his cock before turning around and pressing her ass against his cock. gojo keeps his thigh between hers, wrapping her arm against the soft of her stomach before his greedy hands slide up to find her tits.

“i like these… so big.” gojo rests his forehead against her shoulder and begins dry fucking her ass. shoko moans, pushing herself back against him thrust for thrust.

“like that, you’re not irritating me when you’re drunk. you should do it more often.” she moans. gojo grunts in return, wrapping a hand around her throat as he kisses the side of it, using his hand to keep her in place. his other hand slides inside her shirt to slip under her bra and find her bare tit.

she stifles a whine between her teeth when he pinches and rolls shokos nipple. “they’re so soft. god i knew they would be soft. i think about these a lot.” he whisperers into her neck. the heat of his breath tickles her skin, makes her legs shake with the sensitivity.

he’s so hard against her plush ass, rutting desperately with panted moans and low grunts. his cock is sliding between her ass perfectly, warming him even from inside his pants. pre-cum leaks from the tip of his cock, wetting the inside of his boxers.

“jesus satoru, you’re so big.” shoko moans, her toes curling in her shoes when he shoves his knee further between her legs to stimulate her clit, she humps against him greedily, squeezing her thighs around his.

gojo giggles, “are you talking about my dick? i thought you said it was smallll” shokos head tips back against his shoulder, baring her throat to him more as he peppers kisses and bites along her pale skin.

“kinda hard to think that when i feel you like a snake between my ass.” she jokes between moans, feeling that familiar warmth coil in her stomach.

“you know what else is kinda hard?” gojo whispers in his best seductive voice.

shoko shakes her head and reaches behind her to grab his ass, digging her nails into him. he grunts, hips stuttering while he dry humps her with such vigor the mirror on the wall is starting to shake. she’s practically being fucked against the sink at this point.

“stop” pant “fucking talking, and- make me cum, gojo.”

his hand tightens around her next and shokos mouth opens wider when the lack of oxygen makes her orgasm rush in faster. “shoko… shoko, fuck shoko.” gojo breaths into her neck between kisses. she gasps when he starts bouncing his thigh, adding more pressure to her clit. “cum for me shoko, pretend i’m inside you and cum all over my big cock.”

his words were so corny, but shoko was unable to fight her orgasm as it wracked through her body. gojo wraps both arms around her stomach, burring his head deeper into her neck when his balls release his seed into his boxers. he’s fucking her hard through stuttered thrusts, pretending he’s pushing his cock deep inside her pussy and filling her with his cum.

“fuck.” she gasps. gripping his arms with shaky hands as they fall against the sink together in a pile of messy, sticky, sweaty limbs.

“fuck is right, my boxers are soaked.” gojo breaths heavily.

“god… i mean it by the way. you really should get drunk more often.” she breaths, slowly regaining the feeling in her legs. if he was able to make her cum this hard from a little dry humping, she wondered what he could do with his cock inside her.

“you know we can have sex when im sober.” gojo retorted, looking at her though the mirror while continuing to massage her tits. his other hand joined the party and started treating them like stress toys.

she shook her head. “no, i need you to be at least tipsy before you fuck me. you’re cute like this.”

gojo pouts. “you just want to take advantage of me.”

shoko scoffs and grips his wrist. “you’re the one with your hands on my tits fucking my ass. besides, you had one shot, you big lightweight.”

gojo squinted his eyes at her like he was going to respond, before his forehead dropped onto her shoulder, his fluffy hair tickling her neck as he continued to massage her boobs. “couldn’t think of a clap back. alcohol makes me dumb.”

First time chatting with the crew is very overwhelming, Luci would prefer lighter conversations.

*first art post with my new name!

why the hell can i write over 1000 words of speaker notes for a presentation i don’t even wanna do but the second i try to write a fic or one shot my brain is fried?? what kind of sick joke is this??

bruh. just saw a video on twitter of the prettiest boy fucking his hand as he was eating his lady out… like he was so so so incredibly desperate and all i could think about is sweet sweet suguru geto who breathes to please his perfect little girlfriend and gets so fucking horny doing so.

cw cunnilingus, masturbation, multiple orgasms implied

like his legs just shamelessly sprawled, bare back slumped against the edge of the bed while the base of his head presses into the messy, ruffled duvet. the slender column of his throat is exposed and he’s arched so sexily, spine bowing almost achingly as his stomach caves, hips rutting.

he’s completely bare; that long, writhing body seated so erotically on the carpeted floor, you on his face. as his narrow frame stretches allll the way up the side of the bed, your body is perched right against his lips. you sit on the edge of the bed, feet resting upon his shoulders, your warm, swollen clit repeatedly glissading over his button nose while you ride him so fucking good.

god and his mouuthhhh. he’s completely unabashed as he indulgently devours you, glossy lips noisily smacking against your pretty, dripping cunt—tongue so fucking hot and wet as he hungrily pushes it inside of you, feasting like you’re a plate of the finest delicacy. a loud cry leaves you and his hips buck in response, chasing the furious jerk of his fist as you fuck his face like the toy he so desperately needs to be.

the pad of his thumb is swiping over the warm, leaking head of his cock at the same time he’s pulling your pretty lil’ clit between his greedy lips and sucking. every sound that leaves you is reciprocated, lost in the unruly wet depths of your cunt as he utterly embodies your pleasure, breaths synchronous.

“mmphf,” his pleasureful cries are muffled, dampened by the warmth of your cunt as you grind it onto his tongue. “f— fuck my t-tongue… moreee, gimme more.” greed drips from his tone, his broken sentences growing lower and whinier with unbearable need. “god, come hereeee.”

geto’s vacant hand is snaking up your waist, clinging to the thick of your hip before dragging you impossibly closer, smothering himself between the fat of your thighs like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. you gasp and geto moans, flattening his tongue to finish you the only way he knows how, sloppily.

and there are just so many orgasms… geto is probably three or four deep and you’re not far behind. you lean forward onto the mattress before firmly planting your wobbly hands against the disheveled sheets, grounding yourself so that you can properly fuck your pussy into his mouth, chasing your release for the third time in a row.

“fuck! thereee,” it’s hardly a growl as you sluttily arch your back, an electrifying heat torpedoing toward your achingly swollen clit. “there… right fucking there, god!”

he’s feral, heavy balls tightening in a horrendous need to release as he forces precum from the swollen head of his cock. the vein that runs along the underside of his pretty, hooked shaft is hot against the palm of his jerking hand, throbbing so desperately with each drag of his fist. god, he’s a fucking mess with it too—all of his previous loads stickily cascading down his pectorals and abdomen, chest heaving.

your final orgasm is synchronous, the two of you creaming at once. geto is obnoxious, moaning like such a slut as he greedily slurps you up, noisily cleaning your sloppy little hole free of the mess you’ve made. once again, he cums a lot and hard, panting against your slick cunt between his tender kisses to your ravaged clit.

drunkenly, geto smiles up from between your thighs. “one more?”

☆ Gojo is always so cocky before you peg him. Confident, taking charge as if he's not about to be fucked from behind like a whore. He'll dirty talk you, try to fluster you with his honeyed words as you're pulling the strap on.

"Gonna fuck me so good, baby?" He purrs, wrapping his fingers around the pretty blue strap: perhaps to gauge the size. He jerks it a little, mirrors the way he'd stroke himself to the thought of being fucked senseless by you. "Hopefully you can keep up with me."

It's all talk, a veil of confidence only barely masking his desperation beneath, which burns hot and angry and threatens to ignite into something all-consuming if it isn't soon put out. You think of wrecking his ego, making him get down on his knees and suck the plastic for show. He'd look so pretty, looking up at you through his lashes as he served the strap with his mouth and tongue.

Oh but he's prepped and ready, and you're itching to erode at his cocky smile. You have him lay on his back, so you can watch as his lips curl downwards when you slide a finger into him, rather than the strap he's been promised.

"Fuck, I don't need it," he whines, tries to reach down and pull your wrist up and away from him but you swat him away with a tsk.

"You're so impatient."

"Just fuck me already."

Sweet Satoru regrets his words when you line your pretty blue strap up with his ass and push in only an inch of two. The sharp hiss of him steeling himself with a breath is music to your ears, and though he tries desperately to keep the cocky act up, you can see it slipping.

You give him another inch, and he bites back a moan. "That's... all you got?"

"No," you click your teeth. "But, it's all you'll get if you don't start begging, baby."

He gives you a look, tries his best to look annoyed, but his cock is so hard it hurts and the corners of his lips are curling upwards in a grin regardless. His pleads start out dramatic, joking.

"Please fuck me, babe," he drawls, but as you inch further inside of him at his request, he gasps. Very quickly, any cockiness in his tone is replaced by raw need. "Fuck, more—please, really, I need it."

His eyes are wide at the stretch, the all-encompassing fullness he's feeling, and the grief he feels when you pull almost all the way out of him.

"Wait don't pull out I'll beg I'll—"

His pleads get stuck in his throat when you push forward and bury your strap completely in his ass. Satoru chokes out the prettiest moan, meets your eyes for half a second as you pull back, and then falls into complete ecstasy as you snap your hips back into his again.

From there, he's gone. Malting into the mattress as you fuck him at the pace he responds best to—a torturous middle ground between painfully slow and so fast it's over too soon. Satoru whines, seemingly already overstimulated by your movements, but you're far from done with him.

Satoru Gojo is the strongest. He's untouchable, really, and here you are ten inches deep inside of him and watching as hot tears spring into his beautiful blue eyes. He's sweating, exerting himself entirely to taking all that you can give him; and you're sure he'd take more if you had it for him—he's at the base of your strap and whining like a whore on it.

"Close," his voice is quiet and desperate and you love the way it melts into the air around you. You fuck him harder, faster, a bruising pace that might be more for you than him, but he takes it with shaky breaths and a heaving chest because he's addicted to the shape of your plastic cock inside of his ass.

You fuck him through his orgasm, watch as his cock—which is reddening with angry need—spurts ropes of cum all over his stomach, pearlescent and almost unending. You smile at the sight, stalling your hips to let him catch his breath after cumming so hard without his cock even being touched.

He's a mess, sensitive and breathless as you trace your fingertips through the mess of cum glossing his tummy. Satoru watches with parted lips as you do so, half-expecting you to bring your fingers to his lips for him to clean up the mess he made. But you don't. Instead, you press down hard on his tummy and listen to the lewd noise that rips from his throat when you feel just how deep you are inside of him.

"Here, baby," you coo, grabbing at the wrist Satoru shoots down to try and pull your hand from his stomach with. You press his palm down onto his cum-covered stomach and have him feel for himself the bulge that you've created with the tip of your strap inside of him.

A moment passes, something flickers in your gaze that turns Satoru's mouth dry. "Don't move your hand, Toru, understand me? Keep pressing down."

Satoru parts his lips to protest, but you're pulling out and plunging back into his ass with a mean thrust of your hips before he can say a word. The nastiest moan slips from his lips, half ecstatic, half overstimulated.

"Fucking you so deep you can feel it from the outside, huh baby? Taking my cock so well, letting me use you like you're the toy."

Your words are enough to encourage Satoru into a second round; though this time you're meaner than before. You pull his legs up a little, manage a position that allows you to get impossibly deeper inside of him, and hen thrust your hips forward to test the water.

He's drooling. His lips are wet with spit and cheeks stained with new-flowing tears. He loves it, though, you can feel the clench of his ass in the way it becomes just that little bit harder to thrust into him. With each mean snap of your hips though, you watch as Satoru presses down harder on his belly to feel you bullying your plastic strap into his ass.

You find a nice pace and match it with your fingers wrapped around his cock. Stroking him only makes your lover needier, bucking his hips up instinctually just to gasp at how the movement fucks himself onto your strap too. By the time his second orgasm is approaching, you can't tell who's doing more of the work: he's frenzied and cumdrunk and can't see straight between the blinding pleasure and tears in his eyes.

"Good boy," you praise as he cums again, his whole body racked with tremors and his eyes quite literally rolling back as he releases all over the hand that presses down to feel you. You give him a minute, let his catch his lost breath and wipe his tears from his eyes with the hand that isn't covered in his own cum.

Though, once you're confident he's at ease enough for you to slowly pull out and start giving him aftercare, his legs lock around your waist and keep you buried deep.

You've never seen such a look on his face before—ravenous.

"Again."

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NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?” 

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulder, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere. 

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation. 

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows. 

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“Two years, by force.” 

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today. 

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!” 

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him. 

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot. 

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.  

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side. 

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own. 

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.  

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner. 

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened??? 

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009 

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school. 

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently. 

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly.

Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow. 

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you. 

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”

There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…

“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro. 

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!” 

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, she’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there. 

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes. 

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was... different.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmful, right? 

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.

You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the  Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.  

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sato—” Fuck.

You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be. 

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now. 

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again. 

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person. 

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

 He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob. 

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!” 

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake. 

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har. Har. Very funny.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.

Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre. 

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him. 

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt. 

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject. 

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.

For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot. 

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it). 

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute. 

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement.  “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal. 

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear. 

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours. 

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means. 

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him. 

But something’s up.

His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line. 

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes. 

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.” 

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in. 

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?” 

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone. 

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

 Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars. 

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning. 

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours. 

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly. 

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot. 

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—

“…Yeah, why?”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!” 

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read this far, we're fucking making out.

you know what? Fuck you. *turns your strong and stoic and serious character into a crying, traumatized, whimpering, curled up mess in the floor*

You can see the full images on Patreon 👀

The alternative ending, where Lute died instead of Adam… 🥀

nerdy men bruh🔛🔝🫶🏻🫶🏻😔

Sub!armin x reader collegeau

(PLEASE BABES IM BEGGNG YOUUUU🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾)

For Free

Tags: Sub!Armin x Fem!Reader, college!au, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, virgin!armin, overstimulation, light choking, vaginal sex, face riding, a small side of eremika,

Synopsis: Virgin!Armin doesn’t know how to get his dick wet :)

An: I’d love to start writing more for AOT if anyone else has any reqs they wanna see me flesh out <3 I don’t write sub men that often, so I hope this was satisfactory. Also, can we be so fr rn? Men who are nerdy and have nerdy interests are sooooo 🤭

"So, as I was saying. The artic also produces icebergs, so hypothetically speaking, if we could cut down on pollution and light pollution, we could have a slim shot of repairing-"

"Armin, I am begging you. Please shut the fuck up and eat your food." Eren annoyingly snaps at him while rolling his eyes. He was currently stabbing at his portion of chicken aggressively with his fork.

"I was listening to him. Don't be an ass." You retort while elbowing Eren in his side. Your eyes then fixate back on Armin. "You're saying that we potentially could repair the artic to an extent?" You prompt for him to go on his little tangent about the artic and ocean.

If someone asked you why you were so interested, you'd make up some lie about how you're writing a paper on the effects of pollution and global warming. In reality, you actually just loved listening to your cute blonde friend spill his heart out about his hyper fixations.

Your eyes glass over as Armin goes back to explaining to you the intricacies of the environment and global warming. Your mind wanders to how he’d look if you just got on your knees for him and gave him the best head of his life. You could almost bet that he’d be the type to whimper.

“You need to get laid like it’s detrimental at this point.” Eren grumbles while shaking his head. “You quite literally are putting off an energy that scares away the hoes.”

“And what hoes are you trying to attract?” Mikasa asks as she finally settles in next to Eren. She was running late to lunch after helping Historia out carrying somethings to the teacher’s lounge.

“None-! But if I were, Armin would scare them away.” Eren replies, and you notice how his hand snaked underneath the table towards Mikasa’s thigh.

“Stop being such an ass. He’s just passionate about something. No one treated you like shit when you went through your little skating phase.” You speak up once again, getting real sick of Eren’s pissy attitude.

“It’s okay, yn. We can talk about this later.” Armin finally speaks up, giving you a small defeated smile that crushes your soul. Underneath the table, you gently bump your foot against his foot.

His face doesn’t show it, but his heart flutters in his chest as he bumps his foot back against yours. It’s such a small act of affection, but it’s your guy’s way of just checking in with each other. Essentially, it was a way to silently say, “I’m here for you.”

“Armin, you’re still a virgin, aren’t you?” Eren asks as he takes an aggressive bite from his food.

Your foot ever so gently slides up Armin’s leg, making his breath hitch in his throat. His face flushes a bright red as he avoids everyone’s gaze.

“I don’t know why that matters.” He mutters quietly, not liking where Eren was going with this.

“I’m taking that as a yes then.” Eren continues. “Any reason in particular why you haven’t slept with anyone yet?”

Your eyes focus on Armin’s face as you’re curious as well. Armin isn’t ugly. He’s sweet, smart, and incredibly patient. Girls have approached him in the past, but he always just opts to keep them at arms length.

“I just..” Your foot gently presses into his inner thigh, seeing how far he’d let you take this. Armin immediately coughs as if trying to hide his reaction to your blatant flirting. “… haven’t found the right one.. I guess.”

“The right one? Armin, you need to just get it out of the way. I’ll literally pay someone to sleep with you.” Eren half-laughs, which means he’s probably only half-joking.

“That’s prostitution, Eren, and it’s illegal.” Armin replies with a small frown, not liking that his best friend is quite literally offering to pay for his virginity to be taken.

“I’d do it for free.” You casually offer with a small shrug. Armin’s eyes go wide as he stares at you from across the table, and Eren chokes on his soda. Mikasa just has a calm smile on her face as she watches this all go down.

“Of course you would. You’re practically riding his dick all the time anyways.” Eren retorts after he gains his composure back.

“Yep, you’re right. Now, I’m going to go do it for real too.” You respond as you stand from your chair. Your hand reaches over and grabs Armin’s hand before leading him out of the mess hall.

His hand is trembling in yours, and he can’t find the words to say right now. His heart is beating so loudly that he almost can’t hear. The only thing on his mind was that you’re finally noticing him.

Armin turned down the girls who tried to flirt with him because he has his eyes set on you. He’s had the fattest crush on you since you met their little friend group in college.

Not knowing how to handle his feelings, he had once confided in Eren and Mikasa. Both of them said it was stupid obvious that you liked him back, but he refused to believe it. How could a girl as pretty and confident as you like him??

You let out an exasperated sigh as you shut your dorm door behind you, locking it so no one else can bother you too. Armin’s entire face is red, and he’s fumbling with his fingers.

“You don’t have to be so nervous. You know I was kidding, right?” You softly laugh at him while taking your shoes off. You then crawl up onto your bed and settle down. “I just was tired of listening to Eren, and I figured you needed a break too…”

Armin can’t help the way his demeanor subtly drops. He feels so naive for thinking you were actually going to take his virginity. You probably detested the thought of doing so- He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly before he also sits down on your bed.

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right.” He mumbles quietly, and he keeps his gaze away from you.

You quickly pick up on his change in attitude. He almost seems… disappointed? Your eyes lock for a moment, and you observe his pretty blue eyes looking back into yours. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he's giving you puppy dog eyes.

"Don't tell me you're disappointed." You lightly joke, lips curling into a smile as you gently nudge him.

Armin lets out a soft exhale of amusement, and he clams up for a moment. "Well.. I.. can't say that I wasn't a little bit excited." He admits sheepishly.

"Excited for me to take your virginity?" You prompt, shifting your position on your bed to where you and Armin's faces are a few inches apart. "I didn't think you really cared about that sort of thing."

"Sex?" Armin asks while his eyebrows pinch together slightly. He's giving a small cute pout. "I know it's hard to believe, but I am still a guy.."

"Oh? Is this when you give me the spill about having urges and desires too?" You tease him, and he's slowly leaning back against your pillows. Your body carefully shifts on top of his.

His heart is hammering through his chest - his nervousness and excitement making him feel like he's going to explode. He just hoped you didn't notice how painfully hard he was already. He had been subtly concealing a boner since you offered to take his virginity.

"Is that what you want to hear?" He asks as he gazes up at you. At this point you're straddling his waist. Your hands are pressed to his chest.

"You know... yeah, tell me what urges and desires the infamous nerdy Armin Arlert has." You raise an eyebrow at him with a lopsided grin, excited to hear about what fantasies he conjures up in that cute head of his.

"Well... I think a lot about you..."

"Yeah..? What about me?" Your hands slowly rub up and down his chest, and you can feel his hard on pressing desperately against your thigh.

"J-just about..." He's stuttering now, and his face is flushing a deep red as you're not giving him must leeway to escape this. "Your lips... how soft they'd feel."

"You think about kissing me?" Your hips shift ever so subtly, causing a small gasp from Armin.

"Amongst other things..." He breathes out, but he's given no chance to gather himself before you take his wrists and pin them to the sides of his head.

You lean down over him, hovering your lips right over his. "If you want it... take it." You whisper softly, your breath ghosting over his lips, causing him to shiver.

A small whimper escapes him before he leans up, and he captures your lips in a sweet, innocent kiss. You ease up on his lap, allowing for him to control the kiss for a moment.

He kisses you needily - so desperate to feel more, but he isn't quite sure on how to initiate that. Your lips are as soft as he imagined, and you taste like strawberry poundcake. He's already so addicted. It was his first kiss, and you were already rotting him from the inside out.

Your hands release his wrists, and you cup his jaw instead, taking control of the kiss. Your teeth tease his bottom lip, showing him exactly how to achieve what he wants. Your tongues clash together, and his hands find your hips. His thumbs rub into your hip bones, loving the feeling of you in his lap.

After a while, you finally part from him. A small thin string of saliva connects you two as you're both panting, trying to recover from the steamy kiss.

"What else is do you want?" You whisper softly, intending to give this man whatever he so asks for.

"I- I want..." His voice is breathy, overcome with intense lust as he lifts his hips up, hoping you'll get the memo.

"Sayy it." You taunt with an evil smile.

"Please- I... I want you to use me." He whines, and he tilts his head back slightly as his bulge grinds so nicely against your core.

Your hips begin to roll, adding on to the fiction for both of you. You can tell through his pants that Armin isn't exactly small like most people would believe him to be since he's not exactly tall.

"Mmmnph~" His breathing is labored as he feels his tip already making a mess in his boxers. He quickly grabs your hips and stills them before he can make a real mess.

"What is it-? Did I do something wrong?" You ask in a concerned tone before you realize just how red his face his. He looks so disheveled already. His blonde hair was a mess upon his head.

"N-no... it was really good." He admits quietly. "Too good... I didn't want to..." His voice trails off, and he looks away from you with an embarrassed look.

"Oh.. I see.." You reply with a small grin, finding it cute how worked up he gets. You slowly ease your pants and panties down your legs, and you toss them onto the ground.

“Do you ever watch porn while thinking about these things?” You ask, going back to his fantasies.

“Mmm.. sometimes, but the mental image is enough most times.” His eyes glance down towards your thighs and lower half. “Some… sometimes I imagine you riding my face…”

“Oh?” You prompt with a small smile. “Do you want me to sit on your face?”

Armin nods his head quickly, and he scoots his body down lower, already prepping for you to take your rightful seat on his tongue. He’s nervous about eating you out for the first time, but he’s nearly drooling at the thought of you putting your weight down on his head. He wonders just how sweet you’ll taste.

“Is that a yes?”

“Please..” He asks so sweetly. You have to reward him.

You crawl up to where his head is laid back against your mattress, placing your legs on either side of his face, and your fingers comb through his messy blonde hair. He looks up at you through his eyelashes with a truly pitiful gaze.

“Tap my thigh three times if you can’t breathe, okay sweet boy?” You ask to make sure he understands. He nods his head without a second thought before leaning up to press a kiss against your cunt.

Eren had talked about eating Mikasa out before to Armin… despite Armin’s many, many attempts to make him shut up. Eren would tell Armin that he wouldn’t stop until she was a shaky mess on top of him. That was Armin’s goal. He wanted to feel your thighs tremble from his tongue.

“Good boy…” You purr as you slowly lower yourself onto his mouth. Armin immediately seems to just know what to do as if it was pure instincts coursing through him.

He starts off slow, pressing gentle kisses against your cunt before he starts to lap at you. A hum fleas him as he savors the taste of you. Just as sweet as he imagined.

With his tongue, he finds the small button of nerves at the top of your cunt. He immediately knows what it is by the way your body jolts upwards a bit, and a small whine falls from your lips.

He reaches up, and he pulls a bit more down onto his tongue. He doesn’t like how you’re hovering — as if you’re scared to hurt him. He wants to feel you sit - not hover.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You murmur quietly to him, which only makes him more determined to make you sit.

“You’re not going to hurt me. Please, I want you to sit.” He pulls your hips again. “Use me.” He whines as he starts to gently suckle on your clit, making you jolt again.

His hands massage the flesh of your ass, and he starts to force your hips to rock back and forth while he flattens his tongue against your slippery folds.

You taste so fucking divine. Armin’s completely lost in your essence. His eyes are fluttered shut as he’s licking, kissing, suckling every thing you’ll allow him to.

Your hand is entangled in his pretty blonde hair as your hips are rolling back and forth. His nose bumps against your swollen clit, making you clench around nothing. You’ve never experienced head like this — not when most men make it sound like a chore. Armin sees it as a blessing.

The sounds in the room sound like they’re straight from a porno as your cunt sounds so sticky and drenched. Armin’s making soft hums and whines as he’s eating you like a starved man. Your moans fill the room — not caring if anyone could hear you next door.

“Just like that.. f-fuck.. gonna make me finish.” You pant, unable to even think straight while he’s plunging is tongue in and out of you.

Armin flutters his eyes open to look up at you. You’re so fucking pretty. How did he get so lucky? The way you’re completely coming undone on top of him has him literally trying to hump the air. His neglected cock sits flush against his tummy, leaking clear pre-cum all over himself and his clothes.

“Armin-!” You cry his name as you clench around air. More juices seep from your weeping hole, and he’s quick to clean you up with his tongue.

Your breath staggers as you come down from your orgasm. Of all people, Armin Arlert was the first to make you finish off head.

He’s not done though. Your thighs haven’t trembled yet. His hands grip around you, forcing you to keep gyrating on his tongue. He’s getting absolutely nasty with it, desperate to make you spent.

“O-oh god- wait, Armin— I f-finished.” You try to tell him, thinking he didn’t catch on, but he doesn’t relent.

His eyes almost have a smoldering gaze as he looks up at you with his mouth occupied with your cunt. His hands are kneading at the fat of your ass before he drags one finger towards your entrance.

“H-hold on. Wait- I-“ You’re nervously babbling, already feeling overstimulated. So when he slips his digit deep into your sopping wet cunt, and he curls it juuust right… you’re a shaking mess on top of him.

He smiles against your core, knowing now that he can stop. He slips his finger out, and he pressed a saccharine kiss to your pussy before tapping on your thigh.

Your body is trembling as you slowly lean up from his face, and you’re trying to stabilize your breath.

Armin just looks up at you, waiting for feedback on his little performance.

“You did such a good job. Good boy.” You praise before pressing light kisses along his cheeks. You can feel the way his face heats up when you praise him like that.

You finally press a kiss to his lips after a few moments, tasting yourself on his tongue. Armin lifts his hips up again, reminding you that he’s so painfully pent up. He’s aching for release.

Your hands find the waistband of his jeans, and you carefully unbutton them while continuing to intertwine your lips with his. He whines when you part from the kiss.

Once his jeans and boxers are off, you finally get to admire his pretty cock slapped against his tummy. His tip was coated in sweltering pre-cum. Just to tease him, you scoot down and give his tip a small kitten lick, tasting the sweet and salty taste of his arousal.

“Mmph- yn-“ Your name sounds like a plea when he whines it. His cock immediately flexes underneath your tongue. You giggle and give him another small kitten lick. “Ah~ please…”

“Please what?” You ask, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Need to b-be inside you.. please miss.” He whines so shamelessly, abandoning all his previous embarrassment. He can’t afford to be shy when he’s craving the feeling of your gummy walls tightening around him.

“Since you asked so nicely.” You scoot your hips back up, and you grind against him a few times, getting his cock nice and coated in your slick.

Armin’s practically fisting at the bedsheets. Feeling your bare pussy rubbing against him was soooo much better than when you were still clothed.

“Miss..” He whimpers softly as his hips flutter upwards to rub against you in an act of desperation. “Miss, can you… take your shirt off please..?”

You gaze at him puzzled for a moment. It was an odd time to make that sort of request, but who were you to deny such a needy plea?

Your hands pull your shirt above your head, and you toss it off the side of your bed. Your hips go back to rocking against him as his tip is kissing strings of pre-cum to your clit.

He admires the way your black lacy bra sits flush against your skin. It only solidifies in his mind just how out of his league you are. He’ll never be able to comprehend just why you’re deciding to give him a chance.

“M-may I..?” He asks as his hands reach for the backside of your bra. As much as he loves the way the fabric cups your breasts so beautifully, he’s after something else.

“Go ahead, baby.” You answer him, and he’s quick to unhook your bra as if he had practiced before.

Eren definitely taught him how, but you don’t need to know that!

Armin watches with wide, excited eyes are your breasts bounce from the confines of your bra. His hand gently kneads on one, loving how your soft pillowy flesh filled his hand.

His eyes gaze upward at you as he leans in and captures your nipple into his mouth. His mouth feels attentive as he carefully swirls his tongue around the pebble, and he gently sucks on it while his eyes fall shut.

Maybe he’s died. This must be what heaven feels like. The only thing that’ll make this better is if..

One of your hands entangle in his hair, and the other hand reaches behind you. Your fingers wrap around his length before guiding him inside you.

Armin immediately moans pitifully around your mound. He has to detach from you to focus all his attention on not busting inside you immediately like the pathetic virgin he is.

“Are you alright, baby?” You ask him with a devious grin. If you weren’t focused on teasing him so much, you’d probably be as much of a mess as he is.

“S-so tight.. fuck yn- I can’t-!” He’s nearly crying as you sink yourself down on top of him, until he’s buried to the hilt.

You try to lift your hips up, but Armin’s hands wrap around your hips, and he forces you right back down onto his lap. “N-not yet. Please miss-“ You’re honestly taken aback by how strong he is. Even though he doesn’t look it, he could overpower you if he wanted. “D-don’t wanna come yet.”

“So sensitive.” You purr as you lean down towards him. Your hand cups his cheek, and you stroke his face with your thumb. “I thought you wanted to be used, baby.”

“I do.. I just… don’t want to leave you unsatisfied.”

“Oh, what a gentleman.” You laugh softly before pressing a kiss to his nose. “Well, if you finish and I’m not done yet, I’ll just keep going. I’ll use you again and again until I’m spent.”

His cock literally twitches inside of you from your words, and he looks up at you with wide eyes. He feels nervous yet so damn excited. His legs are literally flinching from his nerves.

His hand loosen up, and you get to work, riding him like you two wouldn’t see each other tomorrow.

You’re just so fucking wet and tight. Armin knows there’s no way he’s going to last long, not when you feel like paradise between your legs.

Within the minute, Armin is emptying himself deep inside you. “G-gods! Fuck, miss… ‘m sorry.” You give him an understanding smile, and you help ride out his orgasm. “‘m sorry.” He whimpers again before he takes your nipple back into his mouth, showing you just how sorry he is.

He’s a sorry man who can’t get enough of your delicious cunt milking him until you’re done for.

His cum seeps out and coats his cock as you continue to bounce yourself up and down. Armin’s a complete whiny mess as he’s trying to cope with how completely sensitive his cock is.

“Ah~ fuck miss… mmmph~ sooo good.” He’s completely babbling praises to your sopping wet cunt.

“You… ngh.. like being used like this?” You ask, and your hand lightly wraps around his neck, testing the waters. You don’t squeeze at all, just showing that you could if you wanted to.

“I love it.. wanna be yours, miss. Please, make me yours.” He pleas. You’re completely enamored with how much of a mess he is. He’s truly begging to be yours.

“Mine.” You mumble as you feel your stomach beginning to coil. With each rock of your hips, you’re growing closer and closer.

Unlatching your hand from his neck, you lean in and suck love bites into his neck, laying your claim on him.

Armin doesn’t ever cuss, but he has a complete sailor’s mouth when he’s balls deep inside you. “F-fuck.. miss-! cumming!” He warns before his cock is shooting into you once again.

His legs are shaking beneath you as his orgasm washes over him completely once again. His cock is weakly twitching inside you, so terribly sensitive that it almost hurts.

“Wan’ me to finish on you?” You whisper into his ear while your hips are desperately moving up and down. Your poor bed is creaking with each movement, and Armin’s just barely hanging onto his sanity by a thread.

“P-please… please cum on me.. wan’ to feel you.” His voice is a mere whimper, and he carefully reaches between your two. His thumb presses against your clit before he rubs in slow circles.

“Fuck— just like that.. goood boy..” You can’t even find your breath as you’re chasing after your high.

Your entire body gyrates on top of him once your orgasm finally crashes over you. Your vision is nearly doubled from how hard you finish on top of him.

A whiny groan leaves Armin’s lips as he feels you clenching around him. His body is so hyper sensitive. He feels like a million little lightning bolts are striking him all over. His skin feels like electricity against yours.

You take a moment to catch your breath finally as you stay on his lap. Both of you are completely disheveled together.

“Did I… do good?” He quietly asks you, hoping that it was as good for you as it was for him.

“Did soooo good.” You smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

He smiles softly, and he leans into your touch. “Can we get cleaned up now..? I had a thought provoking epiphany while I was coming inside you about how we could help the atmosphere.”

Oh, to be loved by a nerdy man.