Briezie

“I’ve already had her four times,” Sukuna grunted, “the brats insatiable.”

Toji snorted mid sip of water, eyes leaving the couch to instead peer through the half opened doorway to the bedroom, where he managed to catch only a glimpse of your bare leg through the crack. From the looks of it you were naked - splayed over the sheets, hair probably still a little damp from the shower, skin lacquered with lotion, half washed away with sweat by now.

“What, she ovulating or something?” Toji wondered aloud, lowering the bottle to once again catch Sukuna’s gaze over the metal rim.

The other man crossed his arms unceremoniously across his chest, and Toji watched the tendons jump in the winding muscle of his forearms as he shrugged.

“That or she’s in heat, damn near milked me dry.” He grumbled, brows knitted, working a mean line between them. If you were here you’d reprimand him for such an expression, crawl over the couch and run your thumb between his salmon brows until the lines wore smooth, or until Sukuna grew bored and wrapped a hand around your wrist to flip you onto the cushions instead.

Toji laughed then, the sound rough and graveled like tattered velvet.

“Seriously?” He scoffed, lips spread into a sly grin as he licked stray droplets from them, “had to tap out did ya’ Ryomen?”

Sukuna’s scowl only deepened, soured now with genuine irritation.

“Just be grateful I wore her out for you,” he spat, “and watch your tone, or it’ll be you spread eagle and whining for more cock next, Fushiguro.”

Toji chuckled again as he screwed the lid of his bottle on tight, the motion accented with a metallic ‘squeak!’ before he tossed it toward Sukuna, hard enough that he heard the fleshy impact when the other man’s hand shot out to catch it.

“Yeah yeah,” he mused, moving past the couch to instead push through the bedroom door, which creaked beneath the effort, “drink some fuckin’ water and get outta my way.”

If he were being honest, when he’d left for the gym that morning he’d been hoping for this exact scenario. Toji knew you - or at least your cycle - well enough to know that you’d wake up needy and leaking, and he knew Sukuna well enough to know he wouldn’t be able to resist the sight of you humping his thigh like a dog in heat for very long. So he’d left without a word just as the sun kissed the horizon, and he’d been half hard in his sweats since his second rep just thinking about it.

If the living room was warm, the air within the bedroom was stifling. But it wasn’t the heat or the sticky sweet scent that knocked the air from Toji’s lungs on entry, no. It was the sight of you - limbs splayed over the mattress, hair messed and wild where your head was tucked between the pillows. Your jaw lifted back far enough to expose the long column of your throat, giving Toji a stellar view of the dark sucking marks peppered there, indents of teeth that he was sure would melt into bruises by the evening.

Toji took in the sight indulgently - paused in the doorway, a lone hand already trailing its way down the curve of his stomach, teasing until his fingers curled over the bulge forming there. He squeezed once and shivered, reveling in the immediate relief that sizzled over his body like a splash of ice water.

He could feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze piercing into the back of his skull like the promise of a snipers sight. He didn’t indulge the urge to peer over his shoulder and meet that heated gaze, instead he let his hand drop to his side and pressed a knee into the mattress.

You didn’t move, didn’t speak or even open your eyes when he crawled over the sheets, crowding your space like a panther sliding atop its snagged prey.

His hand met the curve of your waist, skin soft and warm beneath his palm, layer of sweat sticking you lightly to him. He trailed one hand downward over the curve of your belly, the other grazed feather-soft over the slopes of your breasts, pausing to pinch gently at either nipple, perked and willing in his hands.

“You’re soaked sweetheart,” he mused when his fingers finally dipped between your thighs, which gave way to him easily, spreading to make room for his forearm to slot between. He moved slowly, palming soft and teasing over your mound and listening to you mumble mindlessly below him.

You whined something unintelligible in reply, voice nothing but a high pitched whimper, crackled like shattered glass.

With a chuckle, he leaned down and craned his head until his ear rested level with your mouth.

“What’s that sweetheart?” He questioned, head tilted to listen.

You swallowed, hard and dry, and licked your lips before you spoke again. Another croaked string of words hit his ear, a touch clearer this time. He realized then that you weren’t mumbling gibberish at all, you were begging.

“More, more, need more, please ‘kuna, please jus’ one more…”

Toji chuckled and lifted his head back to study you again - he found your eyes still closed, brows now knitted into an expression that was decidedly desperate.

“Old Ryo’ couldn’t keep up, huh?” He mused, hands lifted from your body to instead press into the mattress either side of your head, leveraging the weight of him as he slotted himself properly between your thighs.

You offered a gentle huff in reply, eyelids feeling much too heavy to bother opening. Your limbs felt numb, tingling with residual little sizzles of pleasure.

“Don’t worry doll, ‘m here now.”

Toji didn’t waste time working you open or teasing you with the brush of his lips or gentle caresses, no. He simply slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it sideways. His thumb hooked over his waistband, tugged down to let his length spring free and slap hard and raw against you.

The sensation was enough to have his lips parting around a shuddered breath. You felt like heaven - like slick molten silk kissing each bumped ridge as he rutted through your swollen folds. You jolted when he shifted, hard inches rubbing over your clit, still singing with over stimulation.

He grinned and lowered a thumb to pet at your entrance, leaking slick and dribbles of what he was sure was Sukuna’s spend. He traced your rim beneath the head of his cock slowly, smearing the milky little pearls gathered there and wondering just how many loads Sukuna had managed to stuff inside you before he’d finally tapped out. The thought made his breath catch, and sent another sizzle of heat straight to his throbbing cock.

“C’mon, look at me now,” Toji cooed, watching the way any semblance of coherency on your face melted away when he finally pressed down, sinking inside with a single dizzying press of his hips - testament to just how soaked and used you really were.

It was enough to make your eyes roll behind your lids, fluttering with the delicious sting of being stretched open again. Toji treated you with shallow little thrusts. The hair at his base tickling your clit, thick veins pulsing against your rubbed raw walls where Sukuna had pounded you until you cried, until you bruised. And yet despite the pain, the ache - that needling little bud of desire still burned just as hotly as when you’d first awoken that day, stoking the fire in your belly and dribbling lava hot between your aching thighs.

“Oh, oh…” you moaned dumbly, lashes twitching as you finally lifted them and tried to blink away the layer of hazy film that had settled there. Your mind felt fuzzy, vacant. Drunk on the sensation of being stuffed utterly full once again.

“There she is,” Toji soothed.

“‘Ji, it’s you…” came your delayed greeting, nothing more than a breathy whine, “need’t cum, need to cum again, please…”

“Again?” Toji echoed in faux surprise, hips lowing to a torturous roll, “that’s a little greedy of you, don’t you think?”

“Incredibly greedy,” a distant voice interrupted, flat and deep and utterly serious.

Toji tilted his head back just enough to catch sight of Sukuna’s broad form filling the doorway, looking more like the hired security than someone who actually lived there. Toji peered through strands of ink black hair at the big hand that was beginning to dip beneath the waistband of Sukuna’s sweats, palming lazily at the considerable bulge there. Sukuna’s gaze was equally heavy and heated, lowered past the curve of Toji’s spine to track the way your hole was stretching around his thickness.

Toji swallowed, took a final glance at the sight of Sukuna beginning to work his length free from his boxers. His eyes stuck on the exposed slip of tan skin where Sukuna had tugged his shirt upward, the spatter of hair dusted there, before he turned his attention back to you.

“Haven’t even asked how my day was yet, and here you are begging me to make this needy pussy cum,” Toji teased, “and after Ryo’ took such good care of you too.”

“Please,” you cried, shaking your head furiously against the damp pillows crumpled either side of you, “please don’t tease me.”

“Aw I’m sorry sweetheart,” Toji cooed, voice dripping thick with mock concern, “you just need it real bad, huh?”

The delicate shallow thrusts he had been nursing you with suddenly shifted, turned to long pulls smacked back inside hard enough that you felt the tip of him kiss somewhere deep and delicate. Each buck had your legs quivering, and a sharp little shock of pain and pleasure in equal measure sizzling over your skin.

You were lucid enough only to know that he was moving, slow methodical thrusts that felt achingly tender. Each twitch of his worked muscle was purposeful, each motion entirely controlled and aimed to break you apart.

“Shh, just feel it. You feel me, right baby? Nice ‘n deep.” The words were sin incarnate, purred right into your ear.

You were nodding before you could think, slurring a string of unintelligible words alongside breathy cries of his name, strung together like a prayer.

“Deep… deeper…”

The scent of him was intoxicating, dizzying. The sharp sting of fresh sweat and his own familiar woody musk was enough to have you lifting your trembling legs just to hook a heel over his hip and tug him closer.

“Finally knocked all the brains outta you, huh?” Toji teased, “That’s alright, don’t need to think. Just keep squeezin’ this pretty little pussy around me, yeah?”

One of your hands fled the sheets to instead grasp at one of Toji’s bare shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there.

“Kiss me,” you panted, blinking up at him with wide wet eyes, blown black and glossy with need, “oh, hng-… please Toji…”

Toji didn’t bother with a reply, instead he simply dipped his head and captured your lips in a kiss so sudden you barely had the wherewithal to suck in a lungful of air before he was swiping any lingering thoughts away with the hot slide of his tongue.

You melted into the touch, letting the roll of his jaw guide your movements - moaning in surprise when his teeth nipped at your cracked lower lip, your grip on his shoulder tightening when his tongue met yours.

When you finally split apart you were sufficiently softened by the blend of his sweet kisses and the steady rock of his hips, brain humming quietly like the static of a tv set to a dead channel.

“Good?” Toji questioned, head tilting.

You just nodded, struggling to keep you gaze affixed on the inky strands of hair slipping over Toji’s forehead, that was until a sudden blur of colour crept into the edge of your vision.

“Oi, what are you?-…”

You watched, motion a little delayed, as Sukuna’s hand slid across the back of Toji’s neck. Toji’s eyes widened an inch, looking genuinely shocked for just a moment before Sukuna’s grip tightened, firm hand forcing his head upward until they finally met in a rough crashing of lips.

Peering up you simply watched, entranced, at the slide of pink tongue between sticky sweet flutters of your lashes. Eyes caught on the way Toji’s brows lifted and his hips stuttered just a little when Sukuna’s hand tightened into a fist at his nape, strands of silky black hair sticking wayward through his thick fingers.

Toji grunted into the kiss, rougher now - a tumble of teeth and tongue in stark contrast to the slow rhythm of the embrace you had shared. One of Toji’s hands curled over your hip, thumb mindlessly tracing the bone there. The other found Sukuna’s chest, grasping a handful of fabric before he was shoving the other man backwards.

You watched a glittering thread of spit link them for a moment before it split, and you must have clenched at the obscene sight because Toji made a choked sound above you, falling into the sensation a little like he were suddenly made of jelly.

“Fuck sweetheart,” he panted, lips glossed as he dug a fist into the mattress beside your head, “that’s it, just like that.”

His thrusts didn’t slow or soften, but they felt sloppier somehow, and when you blinked upward you realized why. Sukuna had stepped in behind Toji, plump chest pressed to his back, massive hand still curled around his nape, thumb rubbing soothing little shapes there. His head turned inward, lips pressed to the delicate little strip behind Toji’s ear, breathing so close you could see the speckle of goosebumps begin to prickle over Toji’s skin.

“C’mon Fushiguro,” Sukuna purred, quiet enough that you could barely hear the sweet syrupy words, “don’t get soft on me now.”

Dazed, you watched Sukuna raise a spare hand to his lips, thumb pressed against tongue beneath the glint of pearly canines before he reached past Toji’s hips and tucked it between your thighs. You jerked at the sudden contact, the searing heat of his slick thumb, calloused and rough and perfect against your abused clit.

“Bastard…” Toji gritted, breaths coming ragged now, panting between barely masked grunts of pleasure as his head dipped beneath the weight of the palm at his nape. His gaze was glassy, glued to where you were clamping around him, where your slick was painting the dark curls at his belly white.

Sukuna only grinned in reply, and you could hear the lazy glee lacing his tone with his next words, thumb still rolling over your twitching nub as you writhed beneath his touch.

“Go on now,” he rumbled, low and filthy over the shell of Toji’s ear, and you swore you felt Toji twitch in response. “make the pretty girl cum.”

You could feel it, the looming buzz of your orgasm, curling like the crest of a wave, hot and tight in your belly like the slow cinching of a knot.

“Close ‘ji…’m close,” you slurred, “gonna… hn!- ‘m gonna…”

“I’m right here sweetheart,” Toji was groaning now, shivering a little as the hand at his nape tightened once more. His thrusts were wild - wide sloppy pumps driven haphazardly into the slick mess between your thighs. Sukuna’s thumb continued its assault, drawing steady heart shapes over your clit, right above where Toji was busy splitting you open.

“C’mon princess,” Toji pleaded, words accented with a kicking throb that you felt all the way in your gut, “give it to me.”

You let your eyelids fall shut, squeezed tightly against the way your vision was beginning to blur at the edges. Senses dulled, sounds and scents becoming more and more distant with each second of rising pleasure until suddenly the knot snapped, and you were unraveling along with it.

Toji cursed somewhere beyond the numbed blackness of your senses, and alongside it you felt a flood of heat and the familiar twitching pulse of him as he filled you. Firm hands gripped your waist like an anchor, holding you in place as you squirmed against his final stuttered humps, wracked with unending wave after wave of white hot pleasure.

“Shh, that’s it, that’s a good girl…” Toji was cooing into your ear, forehead pressed to the pillow, only hair tickling your cheek.

The words were a salve, a balm smoothed over your mind until all that was left was the honeyed buzz of pleasure.

You sucked in a shaky breath and realized along with it that you were crying, cheeks soaked and salted with fresh tears. You let your limbs fall, limp and exhausted against the sheets. A subtle ache was beginning to settle in your muscles, in your bones, and yet beneath it all you still felt it - that itch deep inside, like an unending, desirous pit.

“More…” you croaked, voice utterly broken despite your pleading.

Toji scoffed somewhere above you - sounding equal parts shocked and proud at your incessant appetite. You heard the distant thump of approaching footfalls, followed by the telltale creak of a knee digging into the mattress before the bed was dipping beneath a considerable weight, and you felt Toji slip out with a slick sucking sound.

“Move Fushiguro, think I just got my second wind.”

────────────────

without the heater, the apartment feels impossibly cold, and you can’t stand it. earlier, you’d already been bundled up in two blankets, watching tv like a miserable burrito. now? it’s somehow even worse.

your twitchy ears—things gojo loves to stare at when he thinks you don’t notice—are trembling from the low temperature. you’re curled tight with your tail puffed up for warmth but it’s still not enough. hybrids like you don’t do well without heat, and your instincts are starting to nag at you in that annoying, primal way.

after an hour—or maybe more—you’re still curled up on the couch with a book, though the words have long since started blending together.

you’re just debating whether to hunt down more socks or accept your fate when the front door unlocks with a soft clack.

“i’m home!” gojo’s voice sings into the dark, playful but tired underneath. chilly air follows him as he steps in, and you shiver.

there’s snow dusting his already snowy colored hair and he looks like he’s fought something way too strong for someone who jokes this much. however, he still smiles when he spots your miserable self on the couch, “aww, did you miss me? power’s out everywhere, huh?”

you nod quickly, burrowing deeper into your blankets, deciding to ignore the first part of his sentence. “yeah, the storm is really bad.”

you wince at your words.

no shit sherlock. he had just been outside in it.

“right…” gojo walks closer, peering down at you with that too bright grin. “you look cute all bundled up like that.” he pauses. “you okay snowball?”

your ears flick in embarrassment, curling down. “i’m not a snowball. i’m fine,” you mumble—a lie so obvious he doesn’t even dignify it with a comment.

“mmhm,” he hums, flicking the tip of one of your ears, grinning when you shiver again. “your ears are twitching.”

your expression sours, and he laughs again. it’s only because it’s him that you don’t kick him. he pats your head, and you bite back your annoyance at the way your ears perk up at the touch.

you cover them with your hands uselessly. “i’m just… cold. ugh- would you close the door?”

he lets out a guilty ‘oops,’ hurrying to do so before looking back to you, tilting his head, voice softening. “you should’ve texted me. you’re not built for this cold.”

“huh?” you blink. “why? besides… i, um, didn’t wanna waste my phone's battery.” it’s a half truth, half lie but he still catches your tone, raising a brow.

after kicking off his shoes, he comes closer, unconvinced, and checks your phone. you’re too stuck beneath the blankets to stop him, though you have half a mind to.

“oh really? you’re at 78%,” he says dryly.

you tense in embarrassment, caught in another lie, “well, i didn’t wanna…bother you.”

satoru sighs dramatically. “sweetheart, i’d rather be bothered than come home to a half frozen bunny rabbit. besides, i would’ve finished up my work quicker if you told me you needed me.”

you tug the blanket up to your nose, cheeks burning. your instincts are suddenly loud now, telling you what you usually do in cold: seek warmth, huddle close, share heat—with people you trust. someone like him.

the look on your face doesn’t escape him, but still, gojo steps back, sighing and brushing snow from his shoulders and shaking it out of his perfect hair. “okay, stay right there,” he says, pointing at you like you’re going to wander off. “i’m gonna go change before i soak the floor.”

you nod, ears twitching, but your heart is beating too fast. he doesn’t notice—he’s already shrugging out of his jacket, the damp fabric hitting the hook by the door with a wet slap.

he glances your way again, a grin tugging at his lips like he knows something you don’t.

maybe he does.

“seriously. don’t move.”

you make a noise that’s halfway between agreement and embarrassment, and he takes it as confirmation.

your instincts are still going crazy—you wish you could just sleep them off. you want to shove his stupid coat under your blankets and bury your face in it, drown in his scent. you want to feel his hands on your waist, his chest pressed against your back, his laugh in your ear.

oh god. what?

he hums as he walks down the hall to his room, and you sink further into the blankets, still trying to swallow down the instinctive want curling up inside you.

you hear the rustle of clothes, the creak of his dresser, the faint sound of him sighing as he strips out of his clothes.

you really shouldn’t be thinking about that.

you sit there for a few seconds. maybe twenty.

your instincts are screaming now—the cold is biting at your skin, your body trembling again. maybe from the cold or maybe from your nervousness.

you should wait. he told you to stay put.

but you’re freezing and you can’t sit there pretending you’re not.

so… you quietly slip off the couch, blanket wrapped tight around you like a cocoon, one arm stuck out to carry a candle, and you pad down the hall on quiet feet.

when you get into your room, you don’t close the door all the way.

you don’t even think about it—your hand just stops halfway.

your tail puffs with instinctive uncertainty as you sit on the edge of your bed, blanket pressed to your chest. you know you’re supposed to wait where he left you.

but it’s cold. and you’re shy. you hope he doesn’t get mad. but then again, gojo wasn’t the type to get mad. the most he would do was tease you until your ears twitched, and that was something you were used to at this point.

leaving the door ajar felt like the only way you could ask without actually saying anything.

down the hall, you hear his door open again. slow footsteps. and then… “hey! didn’t i tell you to stay put?”

his voice is closer now. a whine. almost amused. coming straight toward your room.

your ears twitch violently, giving you away instantly. you clutch your blanket like it’s a shield, heart thumping in bunny thuds as his footsteps stop in your doorway.

gojo pokes his head in, hair still damp from the snow, wearing soft sweats and an unimpressed little pout.

“i leave for two minutes,” he says dramatically, “and my roommate’s already disobeying orders. unbelievable. tragic. heartbreaking.”

you sink down into your bed, cheeks burning. “i-it was cold!”

“oh, i’m sure,” he says, stepping fully into your room with a smug saunter. “the couch wasn’t warm enough? the blankets weren’t warm enough? so you decided to just—” he gestures vaguely around your chilly room, “—migrate back to the arctic.”

you mumble something incoherent into your blanket.

he grins. “come again? couldn’t hear you over the sound of you defying my instructions.”

you glare weakly. “i wasn’t defying any— i- i just got colder.”

gojo laughs, stopping right in front of you and crossing his arms. “and what part of that required sneaking back here like a guilty bunny?”

he’s unfairly handsome, all piercing blue eyes and bright white hair. no one should get to look that good and then be so insufferable. he reaches over, tapping the tip of your nose with the end of his finger when you don’t answer.

your ears flatten. “what? i- uh- i didn’t sneak! and i’m not guilty—”

“liar. you always sneak when you’re cold,” he says, leaning down, eyes glinting with amusement. “your tail puffs up, you go all quiet, and then poof!” he wiggles his fingers dramatically. “vanished. into your room like clockwork.”

you want to disappear.

gojo’s gaze softens for half a second—but the teasing comes right back when he notices you’ve curled up tighter.

“you know,” he says, tapping a finger to his chin, “you could have stayed put and waited for me to warm up and rescue you, like a good little roommate.”

“i’m not little,” you mumble.

he laughs. “oh, sweetheart. you’re absolutely little. look at you. bundled up in blankets like a tiny snowball.

not this again.

a wounded squeak escapes you and you don’t dignify him with a response, burrowing deeper into your blankets.

a beat passses. he waits.

the words slip out again before you can stop them because everything in your body is screaming for warmth. its because he’s standing and you want him to shut up and maybe because both of you are cold… “we should regulate heat.”

gojo freezes, smile faltering just slightly before a dangerous smile curls on his lips to replace it.

“oh?” his voice pitches lower. “round two of this conversation already?” he leans even closer. “you suggesting it? all on your own?”

your ears shoot straight up. “i-it’s logical! you’re cold, and i’m—”

“freezing?” he offers helpfully.

“yes!”

he oh-so-casually drags his finger along the edge of your blanket like he’s deciding whether to pry it from you or get underneath it with you.

“so you want me to get in your bed…and cuddle you warm?”

you make another unhelpful squeaky sound.

gojo grins wider. “you sure you’re asking for heat regulation… and not just me?”

you bury your face in your blanket with a groan. “gojo please.”

his smirk shifts to one of triumph, all too satisfied with the sound of you begging. and he has you right where he wants you, all flustered and embarrassed and stuck with nowhere to run.

not that you would.

“awww.” he bends closer, his breath ghosting your ear. “is my little bunny shy?”

you tremble.

“m’kay. fine. because you asked so nicely…move over.” then, his teasing softens into something warm, “i’m cold too.”

your ears perk at the shift in his tone.

you scoot over, giving him room on your small bed, blanket trembling in your hands. and with a soft sigh he climbs into your bed.

you both go still once the blankets settle over you—like neither of you remembers how to breathe, let alone move. his arm isn’t fully around you, just resting nearby. close enough that you can feel his body heat but not close enough.

he’s giving you space. too much.

your pulse trips over itself. you yearn to reach out for him, to close even an inch of the distance, but your hands stay pinned in front of you like they’re afraid of the answer. you can’t tell if he’s relaxed or tense or just waiting.

the silence stretches. awkward. way too loud.

you swallow once. twice.

you don’t touch him.

and then you feel his breath on your face as he turns to face you—a soft huff of laughter followed by his lazy voice—knowing and absolutely unfair, “you’re kinda stiff over there, y’know.”

your shoulders jump. “i’m just— i don’t wanna crowd you.”

it’s embarrassing. why are you so jumpy?

he shifts onto his side, elbow propped beneath his head. his expression is amused, eyes sharp even in the dim candlelight.

“crowd me?” he echoes, sounding offended and entertained at the same time. the mattress shifts as he rolls a tiny bit closer, just enough that his knee brushes yours, “sweetheart, i’ve been outside in the freezing cold for hours. i’m still cold. maybe i want you to crowd me.”

your eyes flick up to his stupidly bright blue ones before you can stop yourself. they’re warm, sharp, fixed entirely on you—like he’s reading every tiny twitch of your face.

how are they still so blue even in the dark?

you bite your lip. “o-okay…?”

“okay?” he repeats, mock wounded. he shifts again, closer, his breath brushing your cheek. “that’s all i get? here i am, suffering—”

you turn your head a fraction toward him, heat rushing up your neck. “you’re fine.”

“not yet.”

your heart stutters so hard it almost hurts.

then, with the smooth confidence of a man who absolutely knows what he’s doing, he leans in just a little more—closing the space between your faces until you can feel each inhale, each exhale. his gaze drops to your mouth for half a second before he speaks, warm and teasing against your lips.

“don’t you wanna warm me up, bunny?”

your breath catches instantly. your fingers curl tight into the blanket between you.

he’s still not touching you, not really—just hovering close, close enough that one small movement would have you pressed against him. waiting. offering. teasing you into admitting what you want.

the space between you suddenly feels unbearably tiny.

and somehow still not tiny enough.

your breath trembles out of you, warm against his skin. he watches you—calm, unblinking, piercing blue eyes taking in everything—and it does something messy and fluttery to your stomach.

you don’t even realize you’re moving at first.

it’s instinct, pure and simple. that deep, familiar tug in your chest that screams help, keep warm, stay close. it’s the same instinct that’s always been there on cold nights. the same one you’ve been trying to ignore ever since he got back.

before your mind fully catches up, your hand lifts under the blanket and rests lightly against his cool arm. soft and hesitant, but there.

gojo goes very, very still. his breath hitches—barely, but you feel it this close.

“…bunny,” he murmurs, voice suddenly lower, almost gentle beneath the teasing. “that an instinct thing?”

you jerk slightly in realization. “i- i just…wanted to help. you said you were cold, so…”

your fingers twitch like they’re trying to pull back.

he doesn’t let you.

well—he doesn’t touch you, not yet. but his knee presses a little firmer against yours, anchoring you there. keeping you close.

“hey,” he says softly, eyes locked with yours, melting something deep in your chest. “i wasn’t complaining.”

your pulse stutters.

“s’kinda cute, actually,” he adds, grin tugging lazily at his lips. “how quick you wanna warm me up.”

your instincts flutter louder, tugging you forward before you can think, before you can second guess yourself. maybe he sees that and maybe he’s been waiting for it—because for the first time, he moves with real intention.

his hand slides beneath the blanket, warm fingers brushing your waist before settling there. he pulls you in, closing every inch of space between you like it’s the easiest thing in the world. your breath catches as your forehead bumps his.

“there we go,” he murmurs, voice low and pleased ticking your ear. “better?”

better. worse. you don’t know anymore.

his body warmth seeps into you instantly, chasing away the lingering chill.

he’s everywhere.

and it’s so warm.

you’re half on instinct, half on pure panic, hands landing against his chest as if that’ll steady you. it doesn’t. he smells like snow and something sweet from the cold air.

he squeezes your waist gently, guiding you even closer until your nose almost grazes his.

“c’mere,” he whispers, bolder now, warm breath ghosting over your lips. “help me out, yeah?”

it’s not a question.

but…help him out? …with what?

you’re already close—closer than you’ve ever been—and your instincts are buzzing and your heart is doing flips.

you blink up at him, confused. “um… how do i…help?”

his lips part in the slowest, most unbearably smug smile you’ve ever seen. you feel like prey—caught, frozen, pinned by his gaze. he looks way too pleased with himself.

“oh?” he murmurs, voice dipping. “bunny, you really don’t know?”

you shake your head without meaning to. “you said you were cold, so i thought— but we’re already— i don’t know what else you want me to do…”

your sentence collapses into embarrassment.

he lets out a huff of disbelief and watches you for a long second—like he’s savoring every bit of your confusion, your sincerity, your instinctive need to help him. his thumb rubs a slow circle against your waist, grounding and teasing all at once.

“i think you know what i want, bunny. you just don’t wanna admit it. you don’t wanna ask, either, do you?”

you shake your head quickly.

“fine,” he says, eyes softening even as his grin stays sharp. “i’ll make it simple.”

he tugs you a tiny bit closer—just enough that your forehead fully brushes his, your breath caught between you.

“you can help by doing exactly what your instincts want.”

your breath hitches. “huh…?”

he’s so close and the only thing you can focus on is how his warmth seems to curl all the way down to your core and how your instincts scream and twist and tug and ache. he leans even closer, lips almost touching yours, eyes bright and unfair and impossible to look away from.

“just listen, baby.”

your stomach flips.

he leans in slowly, deliberately, his forehead pressed to yours, breath warm against your lips. his eyes flick from your mouth to your eyes, back to your mouth again—so close it sends a hot, dizzy shiver right down your spine.

your heart leaps up into your throat.

oh god. oh god he’s…he’s actually going to—

but instead of closing that last inch—instead of kissing you?

he dips lower.

his warm breath brushes your jaw. and then his nose nudges softly into the crook of your neck.

you gasp—quiet and surprised—he’s right there, breath fanning over your skin as he settles in, nuzzling with a soft sigh like he’s finally somewhere comfortable.

your fingers clutch at his shirt in pure reflex.

“wha- satoru—?” you squeak, ears twitching.

he hums against your neck, voice low and content. “mmmhm? see? this is better.”

you’re not sure if you can breathe.

one hand slips from your waist to your shoulder, tugging you right back against him as he settles in.

he inhales deeply, like he can’t get enough of the faint scent of you, bolder now, the tip of his nose nudging your skin like he’s testing how close he can get before you melt completely. your brain goes a little fuzzy at the simple action and you feel the shape of his smile against your neck.

“told you,” he murmurs, warm breath brushing your throat. “needed your warmth.”

your eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed.

you’d braced for a kiss. but you still weren’t prepared for this. for how intimate it all feels. for how instinctive it is.

your voice trembles when you manage, “y-you could’ve warned me…”

he chuckles, soft and sinful against your skin. “where’s the fun in that, bunny? look at you all flushed and cute. i wouldn’t get to see you react like this.”

you bite back a whine, fingers curling tighter in his shirt.

there’s a pause. just long enough for his smile to linger, for his breath to stay warm against you — like he’s savoring it.

“still,” he adds casually, almost teasing, “you’re sure that’s all this is?”

your brow furrows, dazed. “huh…?”

he tilts his head slightly, voice low. “i mean… you really had no other motives besides body temperature regulation, right?”

the question catches you completely off guard.

all you can manage is, “w-what- what do you mean?”

he hears the genuine confusion in your voice, and it only makes his grin spread wider. the way you’re practically squirming in his arms—warm, flustered, unsure—is ridiculously cute to him.

gojo dips his head, his breath warm and steady against your skin, letting his lips brush over your pulse point—not a kiss but somehow even more intimate.

his voice is a low rumble against your throat when he answers, teasing and almost affectionate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly how much he affects you. “you’re a little innocent thing, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and amused as his hand drifts down, fingers stopping just above the curve of your hip.

you weren’t. you really weren’t. you just…hadn’t been prepared for all of this tonight.

“what are you doing?”

gojo actually laughs. a low, rumbling sound that vibrates against your neck.

your whole body reacts. your back arches the tiniest bit, your thighs press together, your ears twitch uncontrollably.

he feels every bit of it.

you're exactly where he wants you, in his arms, flustered and unable to hide it, pulse pounding, eyes wide and innocent as you stare up at him with that damn look he can never resist.

satoru loves every second of it.

he feels greedy, almost dangerous, with you pressed against him—like he can finally let himself want you after so long because you’re right here, warm and so easily affected.

you’re his.

“you’re killing me here, bunny.”

his fingers trace slow, devastating paths along your side, moving upward with a lazy confidence that makes your stomach twist.

he watches your ears flick again—completely out of your control.

that does something else to him. his eyes darken, but his smile stays sly.

“there it is,” he whispers, “my favorite.”

his thumb brushes a sensitive spot just below your ribs, and your whole body jolts against him.

you make a helpless sound—something between a whine and a breath.

he trails his lips up, ghosting along your neck until he reaches your ear, nipping lightly—barely enough to sting, just enough to make your breath stutter.

“just helping regulate body temperature.”

then his hand slips beneath your shirt. his fingertips find your bare hip, drawing slow, maddening circles that make your breath catch.

your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, ears twitching hard.

gojo’s eyes darken, his smirk sharpening with wicked delight as his fingers roam higher along your side.

“see?” he murmurs, rough and warm all at once. “temperature regulation.”

again?

his thumb brushes a sensitive spot under your ribs and you jolt against him, helpless.

“you’re doing so well,” he praises—soft, low, like he’s coaxing you through something much more serious than this teasing mess he’s creating.

“i- i don’t think— ah—”

your voice breaks, dissolving into a needy little sound you didn’t mean to make. you don’t even know what you were trying to say.

gojo’s smirk turns predatory.

“you don’t think?” he echoes, dragging his teeth along your ear just to feel the way you shiver. his hand drifts higher—slow, intentional—until his knuckles brush the underside of your breast.

you gulp.

loud enough for him to hear.

“maybe i should stop, then,” he says, faux innocent and absolutely not moving away from that dangerous spot.

you whimper, unable to respond.

that tiny sound goes straight to his head.

“you’re being awfully quiet, bunny,” he murmurs, thumb stroking the sensitive skin just under your breast. his mouth is right at your ear, each word brushing warmly against it.

he feels how flustered you are—how overwhelmed—and it pulls a soft, unsteady breath from his chest.

“or…” he whispers, voice ragged with a kind of playful hunger, “is that your way of telling me you don’t want me to stop?”

your breath stutters. your fingers curl into his shirt like your body answers before your mind can.

“n-no! that’s not— wait i mean-”

you shut up in embarrassment.

gojo’s laugh is soft and smug, vibrating right against your skin.

“thought so.”

his hand on your breast slides higher—achingly close to where they shouldn’t be, too close to where your nipple has perked under your bra. your back arches again without permission, and he feels it.

“bunny…” he purrs, nudging his nose along your jaw, “you keep reacting like that, and i’m gonna think you really want me to keep going.”

your ears twitch helplessly and it makes him grin wickedly. you just wanted the things to stop giving you away.

his thumb grazes your breast again, even closer to where your nipple is perked. another tiny noise escapes you before you can swallow it.

“there it is,” he whispers against your cheek, like he’s rewarding you. “knew you had more little sounds in you.”

you grab his wrist—not to push him away, not really—just to ground yourself. but the moment your hand closes around him, he stills…then leans in even closer.

“you okay? want me to stop?”

your eyes widen but the answer leaves you before you can stop it.

“n-no—”

gojo exhales shakily, relieved—something raw and wanting. “good.” his thumb finally brushes over the pebble of your nipple, teasing the sensitive peak. “then let me get you warmer.”

your lips fall open in a gasp and he takes full advantage of it.

he leans in, capturing your mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss, teeth grazing your bottom lip before he slips his tongue inside, tasting.

“fuck…” he murmurs against you, pulling back just enough to glance down at you. “i can’t, bunny. you’re so cute.”

he shifts, pressing his hips against yours, nudging. you can feel the heat pooling low in your stomach.

“anyone ever tell you that?” he hisses, voice rough and teasing, lips brushing your jaw as he presses a soft kiss there.

your tail thumps against the bed, betraying every tiny tremor your body makes.

“oho, that’s adorable,” he breathes, nose brushing yours. “didn’t know my bunny could thump for me.”

your cheeks blaze. “i-it’s not— i’m not—”

“shhh,” he says. “don’t worry. i like it.”

he kisses you again—slower this time, savoring—one of his hands sliding to your lower back to pull you flush against him. you soften under him so fast it makes him exhale sharply into your mouth.

and then he rolls you gently onto your back, hovering over you with those eyes that feel like they see straight through you.

hips press against yours just right. every gasp, every shiver, every twitch feeds into his need to claim this moment with you, to pull every ounce of warmth from you for himself.

“you’re shaking,” he murmurs against your neck, voice rough and restrained. “still cold?”

the bastard knows you’re not.

you shake your head, breath trembling. “no… it’s… really h-hot in here…”

he chuckles, gravelly and satisfied, lips brushing over your collarbone. “good… but just to be sure…”

his fingers trace teasing patterns over your stomach, drifting up under your shirt again, every touch deliberate and maddeningly slow.

“…yeah, we need to check your temperature properly.” he breathes, rolling your shirt and bra up at the same time until both fabrics are bunched under your neck, exposing every inch. “we need to make sure we’re taking very, very good care of you, bunny.”

you shiver under his gaze, wanting to cover yourself, nipples hard and sensitive from the cold. your ears flicking nervously and your stomach twists in anticipation, chest rising and falling faster than you expect, breath hitching when his eyes rake over your bare torso.

“first…” he murmurs, fingers gliding over your stomach, tracing teasing, feather-light paths that leave goosebumps in their wake. “i need to run a thorough examination.”

“satoru…” your fingers twitch, digging lightly into the bed, hips pressing up instinctively at his touch. a soft whine escapes you, barely audible, and he chuckles low and satisfied.

he presses a kiss just above your navel, and you gasp, pressing your head back against the pillow. “ah—!” your tail twitches erratically, thumping beneath you.

he smiles against your stomach, leaving a string of soft kisses in a slow, dizzying trail up toward your chest. you shiver under his touch, body arching instinctively, every nerve on edge.

“don’t be nervous, bunny. it’s just an exam.”

the more reason to be nervous?

your tits lift into the air as your back arches further, a hot flush spreading across your cheeks.

your hands twitch, clutching at your blankets as if to ground yourself, but your body keeps reacting, every movement feeding him.

“look at you,” he murmurs, lips brushing your collarbone, tongue flicking along just above your shoulder.

his fingers slide up your stomach until his thumb brushes one of your nipples—barely a touch yet your ears twitch furiously, chest rising and falling erratically as his thumb circles it. you let out a shaky moan, biting your lip to keep from gasping louder.

you jolt hard and he smiles like he’s won something.

“so sensitive,” he breathes against your skin, pressing closer. “i know what you need, bunny. and trust me, i’ll give it to you.”

your stomach twists, heat pooling low, fingers moving to clutch at his shoulders. a small whimper at his words escapes you, and he grins against your neck, hearing it clearly.

“don’t fight it,” he teases, a grin to match. “i’m only here to make sure you’re perfectly warm.”

his gaze flicks down to your chest again, taking in the sight of your nipples just begging for more attention. his grin sharpens, mischievous and predatory.

“i could take apart every inch of you with my hands, couldn’t i?”

“huh?” you whimper, cheeks burning.

did he really mean that?

he chuckles darkly, a low, amused sound that vibrates against your skin. his breath ghosts over the peak of your other nipple.

“still clueless, huh?” he mutters, shaking his head, half frustrated, half entirely entertained. “adorable little bunny…”

his hand slides lower, tracing a teasing path down your torso, pausing just above your waistband. he nuzzles your ear, teeth grazing it lightly, sending shivers down your spine.

“no! i’m not clueless—” you whine.

he groans softly in response. his grip tightens, holding you close, like he’s restraining himself from devouring you entirely.

“is that so?” he murmurs, voice teasing, low, dangerous. “but it seems like you are, sweetheart.”

you gape at him, cheeks burning hotter, tongue caught in your teeth. “i-i… i…” your words fumble, and your hands instinctively clutch at his shirt, trying to anchor yourself.

he hums darkly, leaning closer, letting his nose brush against yours. “oh? can’t explain it, huh?” he teases, thumb brushing lazily over your hip. “don’t worry, bunny… i can see it anyway. you’re secretly a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

“th-that’s not what i meant!” you whine.

your ears twitch, tail flicking helplessly, body pressing into his.

he tsks softly, that teasing gleam in his eyes as he presses a quick kiss to your lips, stealing your next protest before it even leaves your tongue.

he pulls back, watching you with a lazy, hungry gaze that has you squirming. “then tell me what you mean, sweetheart,” he murmurs dangerously. “you say that, but your body says something completely different.”

you bite your lip, heart hammering, unable to speak, and he chuckles, satisfied, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over your hip, letting his thumb brush over the curve of your waist.

“fuck. you’re so adorable,” he whispers. “you’ve always wanted me, haven’t you?”

your tail twitches faster, ears flicking, breath catching in tiny, shaky gasps, and he grins wider, leaning in, letting his lips ghost along the side of your neck.

“no need to explain, cutie,” he murmurs, possessive and you’re nodding without meaning to again. “i can feel everything you can’t say. your ears tell me everything.”

his hand slips beneath the waistband of your bottoms, brushing against your damp heat torturously.

“i need this,” he murmurs, voice low, rough, his thumb pressing just where it aches most. “all of it, bunny. every little bit. will ya give it to me?”

your body presses into his touch, hips lifting slightly.

“m’kay…”

“is that a yes, bunny?” he murmurs, voice teasing, dragging every word like he’s savoring it.

“y-yeah…”

he chuckles low in his throat, victorious, fingers teasing, slipping under your panties, curling against your slickness.

you jolt, breath stuttering as his fingers glide over your clit with maddening lightness, and his lips curve into a satisfied smirk against your ear.

“good girl.”

your hips cant into his touch.

you want much more but you’re too flustered to say it outright.

“do you think you could help me out first?”

you pout petulantly, “satoru…”

why was the man still teasing you?

“c’monn,” he smiles—he’s too pretty for you to deny him.

you huff. “fine.”

his grin turns smug—like he knew you’d cave all along.

“such a good girl for me,” he repeats, pressing a kiss to your temple sending more wetness between your thighs.

his breath fans against your lips, hot. “come on now, sweetheart.”

you swallow hard.

he’s already watching you with that unbearable smirk, waiting for your reaction as your fingers brush against the hem of his sweatpants.

“there you go,” he coaxes, voice rough with anticipation. “just pull.”

you slowly pull down the bottoms along with his briefs.

and then your jaw goes slack.

your ears twitch violently, tail puffing up in instinctive surprise—because oh.

gojo chuckles darkly at your reaction, his hand sliding under yours to guide it lower, pressing your palm against the unbearable heat of him.

“see?” he murmurs, lips brushing your jaw. “now we’re both warming up.”

you can barely think.

his hips roll lazily into your touch, coaxing your fingers to curl around his cock. it’s so much hotter than you expected, so much bigger—and your pulse skyrockets when he groans softly against your neck.

“there,” he sighs, breath uneven for the first time tonight. “now you’re helping.”

his and slides back to your hip, gripping tight as he guides you to stroke him, matching the way his thumb circles your clit in sync.

“better?”

you whimper—because no, it’s worse, so much worse, now that you feel him.

his grin is pure sin.

and then without warning gojo is capturing your nipple between his teeth as if to mark it—just for a second before soothing over it with his tongue.

“thank you, bunny,” he grumbles against your chest, before sucking and grinding into your hand all at once. his breath comes out in a sharp exhale like he can’t believe you’re letting him do this. “you’re so good for me.”

he’s groaning and then he’s reaching for your pjs.

he pulls the bottoms down along with your panties in one smooth motion, the same way you did him.

his fingers immediately brush against your soaked cunt. you’re already so wet for him, already so desperate—and his breath hitches sharply at the feel of it.

“fuck,” he breathes, pupils blown wide, lips parted as he stares down at you. “you’re…”

he doesn’t finish the sentence, too busy dragging his fingers through your slickness, groaning at how easily they glide.

your hips buck.

“don’t—” you gasp, cheeks flaming as his fingers tease your entrance, pressing in just enough to make you whine. “please don’t tease me anymore…”

gojo exhales shakily, a ragged sound, before leaning down to kiss you roughly. it’s deep, messy, with all tongue and desperation. without further warning he complies, shoving two long fingers inside you.

and fuck. they slip in easily because of how soaked you are.

you gasp into his mouth, hands absently letting go of his slick cock and clutching at his shoulders instead like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

“there,” he murmurs against your lips, voice wrecked, curling his fingers just right. “now we’re both warm.”

you twitch and whine in annoyance and arousal alike. “s-seriously? you’re still going with this?”

he laughs breathily, scissoring his fingers inside you.

“m’sorry. you’re too fun to tease, bunny.”

he sighs, pulling his digits out of you before fisting his length and smearing the precum along the tip.

you watch with parted lips, your retort dying as he moves the swollen head of his cock to drag through your cunt.

“this is what happens when a cute little bunny rabbit says she’ll give me everything.”

your head falls back against your fluffy pillows. “did i—ngh—did i say that?”

“mhmmm,” gojo lets out through bitten lips. “i told you i needed every bit of you and you agreed. don’t tell me you change your mind?”

the response to his question is immediate, a vigorous shake of the head.

his grin is all heat as he hums a quick, “good.”

suddenly, he’s pressing his tip against your entrance and pushing in enough for you to feel it, but not enough to enter your tight warmth. it’s a promise of what’s to come.

you gasp, fingers gripping the sheets unbearably hard.

gojo groans, his hips rolling against you in shallow thrusts, dragging his head against your clit with each movement.

his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches your reactions—how your back arches, how your toes curl under your cute fuzzy socks, and how your ears twitch violently with every teasing grind.

“fuck, you’re—” his voice cracks, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “look at you. so soaked because of me.”

you whimper, hips canting up instinctively, chasing more of that delicious friction.

he leans down, lips brushing your ear as he murmurs, “wanna see how much more i can ruin you?”

your answer is a shaky nod—yes, always yes—and he chuckles darkly before biting your earlobe.

and then? with one sharp thrust, he buries himself inside you to the hilt.

you scream.

his groan is ragged against your neck, hips flush against yours, both of you trembling from the sudden, overwhelming heat.

“told you,” he pants, breath scorching against your skin. “fuck—”

and then he moves.

he’s so big—so much—and you choke on a sob as he stretches you impossibly wider, hips rocking into yours in slow, deep rolls that have your vision blurring.

“breathe,” he coaxes, voice rough against your ear. “you’re doing so good for me, bunny.”

your body instinctively clenches around him, tight and fluttery and desperate. he groans, the sound filthy and all consuming, forehead dropping to yours as he loses rhythm for just a second.

“fuck m’sorry,” he hisses, hips stuttering, grip tightening. “you feel— ugh—”

his thrusts grow sharper, deeper, your gasps mingling with his groans, skin slapping together in a dizzying rhythm.

you’re whimpering his name, nails digging into his back, legs wrapping tight around his waist—fuzzy sock clad feet locked against his toned back like you never want him to leave.

satoru just smiles—wild and wrecked—before sealing his lips over yours in a kiss that steals every last coherent thought from your mind.

you cling to him like your life depends on it, nails raking across the planes of his broad back, fingers tangling in his hair like you never want him to stop.

your body is so small in his grasp—tiny and trembling—clinging to him with enough force to make his muscles flex involuntarily.

his lips pull away to trail down your throat, breath scorching against your skin as he murmurs, nipping at the sensitive spot above your collarbone. “say my name, sweetheart. say it again.”

you whine, high and needy, trembling.

“s-satoru! oh—! feels so… ohmy- oh god—”

his groan is ragged against your skin, hips snapping harder, faster—chasing the way your voice breaks around his name.

“there,” he rasps, voice wrecked, hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave marks. “just like that, bunny— fuck—”

his thrusts turn punishing, desperate, driving into you so deep you see stars—every drag of him against that sweet spot inside you pulling another broken cry from your lips.

you can’t think, can’t breathe—you just cling to him, nails biting into his shoulders as he murmurs filthy praise against your ear, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

suddenly, his hand is pressing down onto your stomach right where you can feel him inside you, thick and deep. your eyes widen, mouth falling open in a silent gasp.

the sight nearly makes you sob, eyes squeezing shut as heat spreads down your neck. he chuckles darkly, fingers tracing over that bulge as if mesmerized.

“don’t look away, baby. look how well you take me.”

you pry your eyes open at his command.

the visual is obscene—your stomach slightly distended from the sheer size of him, every thrust making the outline of his cock press against your skin in a way that has your toes curling.

“fuck,” he hisses, hips stuttering as he stares down at where he’s stretching you impossibly full. “look at that— look at me—”

his fingers press harder, and you whimper, body clenching around him in a way that makes his jaw tighten.

“can’t believe—” his voice cracks, thrusts turning erratic, “can’t believe you’re taking all of it so easily—”

your nails rake down his back, desperate and overwhelmed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the sheer size of him—from how deep he’s reaching and how good it feels.

and then to add even more to the overwhelming pleasure his nimble fingers sink into the base of your twitching ears, massaging roughly—and your entire body seizes, back arching off the bed with a sharp cry.

gojo’s hips stutter, a choked groan tearing from his throat at the way you clench around him.

“holy shit—” his voice is pure gravel, grip tightening in your fur as he grinds deeper, “you like that, huh? like when i touch your ears, baby?”

you can’t even nod, vision swimming, thighs shaking as he tugs at your ears again—gentler this time, thumb rubbing circles into the velvety fur at the base—and you whine, high and broken, hips jerking up to meet his thrusts.

he laughs, breathless and delighted, before leaning down to nip at the shell of your ear, voice a husky murmur, “knew you’d be perfect.”

“s’too much ‘toru!” you hiccup, eyes teary.

“too much?” he murmurs, teeth grazing your sensitive neck, hips snapping forward in shallow thrusts that leave you gasping. “can’t take me, bunny? you’ve wanted me for so long and now you can’t take it?”

your damp eyes flutter at his words, your nails raking down his back red and angry. you can’t respond. not by a mile.

he drags his tongue across your skin. chuckling, hands tugging your floppy ear like a leash.

“s’too bad for you, sweetheart. whether you think you can take it or not, you are. and guess what? it’s because you’re mine.”

your breath catches, tears threatening to spill—but you nod, because yes, deep down you’ve always understood that you were his the moment you became his roommate and the moment he first called you bunny.

gojo exhales sharply, catching the tears with his thumb as they fall, his voice raw as he murmurs, “god, the things you do to me, pretty girl.”

and then he’s moving again—harder, deeper—chasing his own release, chasing yours, drowning you in heat and pleasure until all you can do is clutch him closer and whimper his name like a prayer.

you’re his.

and he’s not letting go now.

you’re completely sobbing as you feel your orgasm sneak up on you, the coil in your gut threatening to snap.

he feels it too, his lips finding your neck again, teeth scraping the sensitive skin as his fingers tighten in your hair and the base of your sensitive ears, using the leverage to angle your head to force yourself to watch his cock going in and out of you.

“there you go, bunny. just watch,” he murmurs in a dark growl, close himself, “that’s it, gonna fall apart for me. ya want that? wanna be good for me? be a pretty little mess?”

he growls against your neck, fingers leaving your ear to slide down your side—down, down—until his thumb finds your swollen clit, rubbing tight, urgent circles just as his hips snap forward in one final, brutal thrust.

“you feel that?” his voice is wrecked, rough with need, fingers pressing harder against that sensitive bundle of nerves. “that’s me—fuck—that's me claiming you. cum, bunny. cum for me.”

and you finally do with a broken cry, back arching off the bed, nails biting into his shoulders as pleasure crashes over you in waves, so intense it whites out your vision.

gojo moans, sharp and ragged, hips stuttering as he spills deep inside you, his grip tightening almost painfully on your hip—marking you, claiming you, just like he promised.

he collapses against you, breath hot and uneven against your neck, murmuring something between praise and possessiveness—something that sounds a lot like mine.

and you don't even argue because he’s right.

the room is silent for a few blissful moments, just the sound of your unsteady breathing mingled with his own.

he presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone then to the crook of your neck. a soft, content hum escapes him, the tension ebbing from his body as he relaxes against you—a heavy, hot weight—so different from how he’d been fucking you earlier.

“completely warm now, bunny?" he teases, thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek.

“mhm…” you sigh, exhausted but bonelessly content, curling instinctively closer to him. your tail twitches weakly—your body too wrung out to even react properly—and he laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“told you i’d take care of you,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you as he shifts to pull the blankets over both of you.

“did you?” you mumble against his chest, spent.

he just grins, holding you tighter—like he’s never letting go.

and honestly? you don’t want him to.

he chuckles softly, fingertips tracing idle patterns along your shoulder.

“power’s still out,” he murmurs eventually, pressing his lips to your temple. “guess we'll just have to stay like this all night.”

you can feel him grinning without seeing it.

and despite how thoroughly he’s already wrecked you, your traitorous ears give a little twitch at his words.

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