hayacinth

“OH! King of Curses down- Six Eyes knees him in the ribs so hard that I’m sure you could hear it, ladies and gentleman! Is he the one who’ll take the Shinjuku Showdown grand prize tonight?!” 

You’re grimacing at both the booming volume of the eager commentator, and the cracking slam of flesh-on-flesh. Having your special nurse’s position smack-dab on the first row meant that you could see n’ hear everything. 

Everything. 

From the roaring cheers of the bustling crowd on their feet, to the way that Gojo was gritting through his dark Stygian muzzle and grinning. Wild. Gorgeous.

Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily - despite the way the entire underworld had his name in their mouths, the one thing nobody ever disagreed on was how…hot Gojo Satoru was. 

A devil masquerading like an angel. All curtains of silky, sweat-slicked white hair, and muscles for daaaays. His skin-tight t-shirt was hanging off of him in nothing but rings of tatters, showing off a snowy happy trail that makes you gulp. Milky skin glistening in the beating stadium lighting, all decorated in as much battle-won scars as sultry, sultry veins. 

Gojo’s towering shadow falls right in front of where you were gawking up at him, and fuck- he makes a big show of letting the rest of his shirt riiiip—! with only a mere tug. 

Well, there was a reason he was your favorite patient.

And you swear he was so close that you could practically taste the scorching iron dripping between his lips, lacquering his pearly whites with a thin film. All red and raw when he turns to you and winks–

“HOLY SHIT! The King makes a comeback- he’s still on his feet! And he’s swinging wide at our monster Six Eyes.”

The thundering, thick stadium air simmers a few degrees tenser as Ryomen Sukuna crashes his meaty, closed fist right into the other’s right cheekbone. Shocked inhales ring out all around you - because if Gojo was the monster of underground fighting, then Sukuna was the curse.

The only fighter in history to ever get a solid few knocks on the other. Both massive.

And if this was anyone else, the sheer force would have made them pass out right then and there. If this was anyone else, then they wouldn’t be snickering-

“Cute.” Gojo’s deep sing-song voice is cold. Seething. Just barely audible enough that your buzzing eardrums can make out. He throws one arm over the stretchy fighting ring ropes, “But I gotta lady ta impress.”

Crimson eyes flicker to you for nothing but a split-second, but it was long enough for the other man to grow rigid. On edge for the first time.

Smugly, Sukuna spits right into Gojo’s face. “Heh- Hell yeah, that chick’ll be impressed in the locker rooms by a real winner later. Me.”

Just a word about you is all it takes.

A breathless gasp departs from your lips as something in Gojo grows…different.

Without another word, he’s drifting over a hand to one of the bulky bands wrapped firmly around his wrists. Unlatching them. So often mistaken for somewhat of a fashion statement, but after so long spent in fighting company, you knew what they really were.

They were weights. Yet another disadvantage. 

And they crack the ground as they fall.

“Weights? Weights?! OH- Gojo headbutts! The King of Curse’s is down-” He’s bleeding and accomplished, every trace of humor wiped. Every degree of a smirk clenched into a steely scowl, and suddenly you’re feeling that perhaps those rumors about him being superhuman are true. Perhaps. “SHIT! He snaps back with an elbow strike-”

Gojo’s big, beefy biceps tense and flex as he curls it menacingly around Sukuna’s throat into a fucking headlock - and your thighs clench.

“You- fucking-” He chokes out past the sculptured harness, cushioned palms coming to slam down on Gojo’s forearm. “For- for some girl-”

Tightening, “What was that~?”

“The King misses- oh, he’s in some real trouble now! Place your bets, you greedy watchers, there’s a reason they call Six Eyes ‘The Strongest’.”

And you knew that underground fights had no rules other than attempt not to die - or, at the very least, try not to make a mess when you do. It’s hard to get stains out of the felt. But Sukuna’s vein-popped face was going purple now, and Gojo was blank-featured through it all. 

Barely even flinching as his opponent grapples a hand into his ridged obliques, lunging and lunging. And yet, the strongest doesn’t even flinch. 

Doesn’t even notice, it seems.

His ghostly cerulean eyes drift to you, seated on the edge of your chair, and he slams a knee into Sukuna’s rugged face. Letting the man drop onto the frictional ground with a resounding thud! - before his fists continue. 

Once. Twice. Clawing at his throat-

“FUCK- CALL THE MEDICS. SIX EYES IS MAKING A SLAUGHTER-SCENE–!”

And no one needed to draw the count, for fear of getting near. Why would they risk death incarnate?

Continuing and continuing until Yaga barks at four- five other referees to even get Gojo to budge. They only just manage to throw a few arms ‘round his powerful ones, and pull him far back enough to giggle down at the carnage he’s created.

Voice octaves higher. Crazed. “Don’t you talk about my lady, ya hear?”

Yaga, as Gojo’s burly coach and former champion, is the one that dares break his harrowing eye-contact to shake him into a stand. Ordering the organizers to get the awards ceremony done as swiftly as possible lest they wanted one of their top-earning fighters down for the count permanently. 

“S-Six Eyes is the champion of Shinjuku Showdown! And in LESS than his signature six moves- oh what a fight it was! One for the books, folks!”

Of course, Six Eyes is declared the winner.

And as Gojo is handed a glinting winner’s banner - dominant arm being thrust in the air - you watch as Sukuna’s barely half-conscious firm slurs out a ferocious, “Rematch. T-tomorrow.”

Cash. A shoddy belt. Champagne.

Tens upon hundreds of reporters and photographers scramble and keen to get the most-selling shots of him. The glare of the flashing lights illuminating him into some sort of other-worldly figure. 

A fighter so dangerous that they claim he hides six eyes. And yet, they only remain on you.

Though, it’s not as if you’re any better - you can’t look away. 

He stands tall, proud. Button nose overspilling with a wisp of cherry-red, perspiration-dampened shorts clinging onto thick thighs and showing you a pretty tuft of white in a way that was unintentionally sexy. Gojo’s leathery mask now dangles haphazardly to show off such a wicked grin.

And Gojo points. Right at you. In front of everyone. 

“Later,” he’s mouthing, whilst interviewers scream for a quote. 

Oh…

.

.

.

“Fuh-fuuuck, Toru–!” Your mouth floods with sheer bucketloads of drool through each wailing whine n’ whimper, back arched like such a slut into Gojo’s bumpy, Herculean front- though, what else could you have expected when the great Gojo Satoru himself accompanied you to your dingy clinic above the fighting ring?

Ready for his real prize of the night.

And lo and behold, bandages and rubbing alcohol forgotten, you’re finding yourself draped right over his lap so prettily; struggling to close your jittery legs ‘round his huge, meaty thighs. 

The fringes of your teeth nip right along Gojo’s plush, scarred deltoids once he tugs on your nurse’s outfit and clings onto a good handful of your ass, draaaagging you to grind all over his quadriceps. Dribbling out a fresh line of candied slick that smears on top of every dip and curve of his bulging muscles.

Your drenched panties catch onto his velvety boxing shorts and you have to hold back a tiny sob. With a deep inhale of his musky cologne, you murmur, “T-Toru, I wan’ you ngh- so bad, y’know?”

“Awww, how cute~” He’s crooning from above,muzzle still on. The pointed curve of his nose tickling your throbbing pulse. Dangerous. Gojo breathes in your sweet scent until it’s all he can smell, “But yer gonna get us caught, mama.”

And he’s so mean.

He fought mean, and he teases you even meaner.

You’re frowning, kiss-swollen lips down-turning into a pout once the sensory pads of his stern digits rover up to your cheeks and smush them together. Crashing your jutted mouth into his frosty mask–

“C’mon now, gotta- gotta be quiet.” Gojo groans at the way you’re getting ever-more soaked when he’s toying with you like this. Lazily, he drops his muzzle to let his plump, bubblegum-pink lips tickle down your own, “Suck on my tongue, there- you can do better.”

So filthy.

Huffing out, your further unfastened jaw basically floods with the damp rivulets of saliva that just kept on watering out of you. When it rained, it poured - and Gojo finds himself smirking at the slop. “Yeah- yeahyeah, you got it. Theeere’s a good girl.”

Weepy pussy positively throbbing at the scratchy texture of his tongue like candy, you couldn’t help but let your fuzzy mind wonder how it would feel inside-

“Oi, nasty girl.” Your pitchy yelp fills the paper-thin walls as Gojo gifts the right of your ass with a rude spank, and then one more just to hear you make that cute noise again. Gruffing out, “Can feel ya getting wetter on top of me. S’like a damn waterpark.”

Before you have the time to even catch your breath, he slouches back sensually to watch you - letting your thin patient bed ring out with an ancient creak! 

And Gojo stares at you lecherously- oh, he was devouring you with his heavily half-lidded gaze. 

The way you’re pouring out syrupy sap with every urgent back n’ forth of your hips, the way all he has to do is hook a thumb past your gluey stuck panties to watch you pulse and quiver. 

Hazy, summer blue peripherals roaming all over your needy expression for a split-second before he’s tap-tap-tapping the doughy mound of his heel on the tile floor. Bouncing you with every motioned lurch, your puffed-up clit catches on one of his zig-zagging veins and you squeal.

Oh? Speeding up, you’re struggling desperately at his whims. One hand grappling onto Gojo’s dimpled back, and the other clawing at the starchy bedspread, no matter how much you were trying to regulate the tempo - he would just speed up more. 

And more. And more. 

Over and over he’s lurching just a few carnal inches off of your bedsprings to chase your sensitive nub. Reeling you down - hard - with a hand stuck to you like adhesive, to pap! against his thigh, letting white-hot bliss spark all that way from your pressurized clit and up your clammy spine.

“F-fuck!” You’re babbling away, fingers interlocking with the soft creamy curls at his nape. Clawing. “Toru– k-keep that up and I won’t…”

Gojo perks his calloused thumb to swivel over your sloshing mess and promptly plugs up your unfastened lips, muffling you. “Shhh shh sh- Wouldn’t wan’ any of those fucks to hear those pretty noises, my girl.”

He was brutal.

Your lower tummy was tumbling and spinning and doing gymnastics you didn’t even think existed. And it was times like this that the strongest from all those headlines peaked his head through. 

Swirling your tongue around his plummy fingerpad, he tasted so much like caramel salt that made your legs grow weaker. Cadence springing to jerky. To oversensitive. “P-please- ngh!”

“Now, what was that pretty lil- hey now, c’mere.” Your lungs cave with a soft ‘please’ as soon as an engulfing, bruised hand crowns your sweat-oiled scalp and holds you still. Gojo doesn’t even have to try, and yet he’s showing off a few sexy flexes of his biceps just for you to ogle at. 

Rutting his jerky leg up into you until your head throws back, he can’t help but leave a sweet, innocent peck right there on the tender spot of your throat. “Don’t run. Don’t run from me.”

Another wet kiss near your slobbery maw, and yet another swat of his thickly tipped fingers right over the slivery slope of your pussy. The sharp sting was just enough to get your glassy eyes to focus on him, “Yeah? Look at me- gimme a lil’ kiss, mama.”

Oh, he always was such a ruthless opponent. 

Because as soon as your spit-glossed lips are crawling towards his, Gojo’s prying them open and spitting inside with a soft coo. Watching as the treacly wad of splashing syrup slides allll the way to puddle the back of your throat. 

“T-tease.”

“I think you mean…champion.” He hunches you over until you’re slipping n’ sliding all down the ridged rollercoaster of his abs. The fragile points of your hardened nipples massaging into his sensual scars and driving you mad. Sweaty and needy. Boring dead-on into your half-shuttered heart eyes, “Now, tell me what you want.” He hums, still tugging on your bloated outer cunt, watching you gasp. “Tell me what’s got this lady here so fuckin’ wet.”

Your words choke with every viscid tear - tears of bliss. Close. “Want t-to-”

“Mhmm–?”

“To-” You’re just so far gone, your gushing orifice only getting soppier and soppier by the second. And before Gojo’s fourth and final spank comes slamming down on your clit- you’re crying. “Cum- fuck fuck fuck- m’so close. So- m’gonna cum–”

And as soon as it was about to happen - it’s gone.

Immediately, your lungs depart with a disappointed whine. “Nooo–!” Scratching at the pronounced back of his throat, you’re struggling to maneuver your body within his merciless hold. And the entire time Gojo only watches in amusement at his sheer display of strength, “I was so close- fuck! Was about to cum, Toru…”

“Nuh uh.” Gojo’s grinning - grinning. And oh, despite the way that makes his cheek indent with a cute, cratering dimple you already know this won’t bode well for you. “M’starvin’ after that match.”

Before you can dredge up enough brainpower to ask what that meant - he’s already showing you. 

Falling back onto the stark white bed until his head hit the pillows with a dull whoosh! and for the moment you’re simply admiring just how pretty he is. 

This wasn’t the Six Eyes that everyone knew and feared. 

With his ethereal locks splaying out on the cushion like a halo, looking oh-so-pale in comparison to the pretty pink that he was flushing all the way from forehead to neck. Irises half-lidded, crazed. Gojo’s broad, scarred chest heaves with every murked out pant he was whistling out. 

Twiddling over the shoulder strap of that tight lil’ number you called your nurse’s outfit. “Take this off f’me- show me my hah- show me my lady.” 

Oh, it would never get old when you do that.

The way that Gojo’s toes curl, the apples of his cheeks staining with a scorching whirlwind of blushing red. Fuck- his heavy tongue droops even heavier with a slick covering of watery spittle, just watching you in your matching set of bra n’ panties. 

All in light blue.

“Knew I’d win, huh?” He’s quirking a snowy brow smugly as he does away with your bra, too. “C’mere.” Gojo’s long lashes flutter up at you delicately, his crowning smirk plastered permanently across his handsome features. And as you’re tentatively making your way on top of him, he cups a roaming grope of your left ass-cheek. 

Squeezing for a second - two - before the strongest simply lifts you up to straddle his face. He doesn’t even waste a second. Doesn’t even hesitate. 

Setting you down gently - you think he of all people would even need to try to manhandle your pretty self this way?

No introductions, no welcome mats necessary - your throbbing pussy was already pouring out in torrentials of translucent sap right through your underwear. Copious, dolloping droplets that hit his readily awaiting pinkish tastebuds in claggy splats!

“Mmm—” He’s swirling his soaked muscle all ‘round the insides of his mouth to just savor your sugary taste. Through a sharp, three-second spank to your ass once more, Gojo grunts, “No need to be shy. Sit on my face, mama.”

And Gojo was always such a messy eater - not even the slightest bit afraid to get his hands dirty. 

No wonder all his opponents complained that he had the filthiest mouth. His tongue was lengthy, dexterous enough to slither past your panties with a sapping squelch! the very nanosecond your drooling core hits the tip of his tongue.

Oh- Gojo’s eyes agonize shut simply to memorize the pattern in which your strands of dangling slick slipped into his mouth. Lathering his chin all glossy, “Yeah like that-” His rugged palms stick to that perfect curvature of your spine. “-sit properly. Sit.”

You’re mumbling out something barely audible, cut off when he curls a firm hand around your throat and pulls you down onto his ravenous face. “Said- fucking sit-”

Sweltering hot breath strikes your geysering hole and makes you keen, your cracked eyelids open just barely enough to spot the way Gojo lands a shimmering glob of saliva right inside. And more when it only adds to the steadily-growing pool you were formulating on his pointed chin, his neck. 

Whimpering when your weight settles on a purple-ish spot on his cheek where Sukuna had caught him off-guard. 

“Watch this.” He’s moaning throatily, making such a show of letting your slippery slit streak out utter cascades all down his tongue. “Told ya- s’a fuckin’ heh- waterpark. Come ride my mouth, my girl- come- come.”

Your head tumbles back with a loud ‘fuck’ when his parched muscle bullies right past the rubbery ring of your entrance. And he takes the time curling his mazing tip into your slicked hole and streeeetching out a cute lil’ heart that makes you whine your poor heart out. 

With a scoff at the way whoever walked by your clinic definitely knew what was happening, Gojo’s slapping the tender skin of your ass raw. “Yeah yeah, louder n’ maybe that ngh- bastard Sukuna will hear.”

Slowly yet sensually probing his tastebuds into every mushy ridge and corner embedded inside of you, he was roaming so deep. Raking a thorough grip on your right ass cheek to gyrate your sodden cunt rougher.

Fucking you wiiildly with his tongue - so wide. Fast. 

He was impatient. 

“Y’know with you sittin’ and- nghh-” You’re mewling once he tapes off that sentence with a pinch of your perked clit between his plush lips. Hollowing out those attractive cheeks to tug n’ tug until you’re sobbing. “-and- and squirming in the seats tonight- this was alllll I could think about?”

He spits back a loaded wad of drool that slides away back down to your flooded hole, pushing the webbed mess right back with the fat crown of his thumb. “Couldn’t wait-”

“Ngh- Toru—” You’re recanting like your own personal mantra, the crackles in your voice following every flop of his textured tongue in and out in and out in and out. “Keep going- hah! Feels so gooood–”

“Mhm, I know.” Gojo bites back cockily, chewing on the squishy inside of his cheek to stop himself from fucking moaning outloud at how your pussylips were just throbbing. The very same pulse you felt in your tight throat. “Had to stop myself from- ngh- making out with this lady right ‘ere all in front- in front of those cameras.”

“Y-you would-”

THWACK!

Oh, he’s snapping at the stretchy elastic of your panties to let the slimy fabric spank your precise pussymound.

Taking the filthy, filthy opportunity while you’re thrown into a dumbstruck daze to skim a few strong fingers underneath your stringy panties, Gojo pulls-pulls-pulls until it’s torn cleanly off of your hips. Freeing you completely bare, and gifting him with the perfect scented fabric for him to draw up to his nose and sniff–

Your jaw dangles widely agape, the same greedy oh! that your dewy hole makes when setting it aside to dip a finger sloppily inside your cunt.

Stocky and long. And yet you take Gojo’s length middle finger with great gulping clamps of your dripping pussy, so much so that you’re hearing a growling “Fuuuck, mama- m-made for me.” from underneath you.

You just made the strongest…stutter?

And you’re just pouring wet from the idea, but before you can stupidly open your mouth to taunt the big, bad fighter below you - Gojo squeezes his hold on your neck and draaaags you further down. Until you’re so pushed against his hot maw that you don’t know where you end and he begins.

He’s spitting, there’s another pop! as he adds another girthy finger to scissor apart your treacly slit. Rovering and rovering. Your voice shatters into numerous pieces so cutely, and he can feel the way your core pulsates frantically once he’s smudging the doughy tops of his digits nearer to your g-spot. 

Hmmm, he’s snickering internally. Gojo’s swirlin’ his manicured fingernail right over your bulging magical spots with such ease. It was so cute how obvious you were. 

“Got such a pretty cunt.” You’re arching desperately on and off his vibrato of words, the very same vibrations curdling that tightness in your stomach. “Such a pretty- pretty…”

“Sh-shiiit, Toru–” You hiccup, warbling shrills filling up Gojo’s ears like his favorite song. And it was. Almost as much as the plap! of a fresh wave of sap spraying a sheen across his face as he slithers in a third finger.

Sliding his pearly whites over your neglected clit, “Tha’s my name.” Gojo’s mouth hangs open with every slop, slapping alllll over the hood of your nub before trying to squish the very mound of his tongue in past your overstuffed entrance. Stimulating you. Driving you insane.

He’s swatting your ass a few more times until the mere touch of skin-on-skin sends your eyes sliiiding all the way to the back of your head. Gurgling – wet. “Say it a lil’ louder f’me now.”

“Toru–” you’re raking your hands down his pecs, nudging your plump clit right into the very tip of his button nose. And oh, you’re feeling the frigid whoosh! of air once Gojo leans his head in and takes a deeeep breath. Tugging gingerly on his unruly hair and he groans-

“Louder.”

“T-To-”

“No stutterin’.”

And you don’t know if you could comply with all his mean rules even if you could, the locked vice of his warm palm jostling your watery eyes until they were dead staring at him. 

He was peering up at you through angelic, white lashes with such loving. Cerise lips swirling all over your beating clit, he could practically taste the rapid ba-dump–! of it coating his heated mouth. 

Starting to crawl straightly up but you don’t even mean to. All he has to do is grasp your throat until all the air drains from your lungs and you’re held there. Solely by his monstrous strength. 

Swallowing back the leaden lump that’s permanently branded on your throat, with a flex of broad arms you’re being lazily shoved sloppier and sloppier by each passing second. And as you’re resting your dribbling slit back on his sensual chin, a steamy cloud of Gojo’s giggles hit where you’re stretched the most tautly tight. 

Blinking eyes flickering with primal need, your bleary vision is just filled with the heavenly sight of him him him. Urging your rickety knees to knobble faster, he murmurs into your folds. “Say it.”

“P-please.” The outdated bed sings as you’re shivering. Shaking. And no amount of cute gasps that you intake is enough to stop your heart from racing. “Toru. Please l-let me ngh- cum.”

“Hmmmm. Good enough.” He’s leering mean-spiritedly up at you, that very same wicked curve of his lips glued to your pretty clit. Gojo lets off a strained growl that almost makes you shy – desperate. “Now…you’re gonna squirt f’me, mama.” 

Another hit thud! of hits at your g-spot, and another few steps closer to your inevitable high. So close, in fact, that you’re not even realizing what Gojo’d uttered until he lolls out his fat tongue like he was drunken, silvery slabs of spit hitting your inner thighs. “Spit.”

Fuck- the very same moment your glittery cobweb of saliva is hitting his sizzling tastebuds, you’re hitting your high. Well, more like crashing headfirst into it. 

And Gojo was right, the way you squirted your brain-shattered release was in the most vapid spurts of juices. Spraying out of you like a fountain, sploshing all over the top of his face n’ gravitating down to his chin. “Squirt on my face- yeahyeah fuck, squirt on my face.”

One that he loooooves. Oh, how he loves it. Loves you. 

“So sweet- fuck…fuck, always the fuckin’ sweetest, my girl.” His guttural syllables ring out and make your eyes immediately flap helplessly shut. Toes curling, “Thank you- was so fuckin’ thirsty after that fight. Thank you.”

Lets his swollen lips slip open to drink up the honeyed squirts in big, deep sluuuuurps–! Scraping near your g-spot to draw out more and more of those pooling splotches all over his face. Gojo knots his fingers ‘round your throat and shoves your pussy to cling to his mouth ruthlessly. You’re watching through the white-hot stars behind your lids at how obviously his prominent Adam’s apple bumps and propels. 

Fuck. 

Glossy layers of slick stick to your folds like a candied apple, and every lil’ suck Gojo leaves drives you craaazy. Soon enough, your thighs are twitching right on top of him, “Please, Toru–”

“Mmmm–?” He’s panting, positively blistered in sweat at this point. And even when he’s catching his eyes with yours, his own look…cloudy. Feral. Murmuring something like ‘round one’ into your outer pussy.

“Want you in me–” You’re babbling out the only few sets of words you know will work to draw him away from the sweet, sweet dessert he’s found between your legs. And you’re watching with bated breath as Gojo takes a sloppy second to consider, still nibbling his canines on your sensitive clit. 

Huffing n’ puffing cutely, you’re reeling your sweet cunt back– only for Gojo to squeeze his hold around your neck and pull-

“Just one more-” He’s contaminating the heady clinic air with repeated saccharine, saturated squelches after every peck upon peck. Like it hurt to part with your pussy - it always did, n’ Gojo made sure to leave her more than enough goodbye kisses.

“One more-” Stringy oodles of slick washing over his face, “One- one more.” Again. Just another French kiss. “One…” And again.

And again and again until you’re dipping your hands through his mussed-up bangs of cloudy white and tugging, all that it takes for Gojo’s achingly hard cock to twitch.

“O-oh.” His voice breaks so many multiple octaves higher as he pulls away with a final - final - slimy graze of his stinging lips. Head lazing in an angle downwards, as if he’d just noticed the painful, rock-hard bulge tenting his too-tight boxing shorts. 

And Gojo’s cerulean eyes widen, flitting from the slushy wet spot soaked through his dark pants, to the way your glistening hole was winking down at him. Needily - as if to beg.

The middle of your bowed spine tingles with the remnants of your orgasm as soon as Gojo opens his mouth to growl. Low. Rasping. 

Depraved. 

“On- on my cock now, mama.” He’s tracing his hands admiringly over your tummy, the edge of his thick thumb drawing a long line right across the middle and your teary slit - measuring you. Where he’d already memorized the sweet lil’ targets he’d be fucking deeeep inside. Could never forget. Gojo nudges his straight nosebridge between your dewy folds once more, “Gotta really celebrate w’my heh- lady here tonight.”

And as you’re scrambling on your still-tottering knees to slide yourself down his Adonis-like body, he scoffs. 

With a blunt roll of his eyes, Gojo’s cupping the curve of your slam-driven ass and manhandling you easily. Trawling your weepy pussy down, down, down over every one of the calloused scars on his front, every one of his bumpy abs - you counted eight - to sit all prettily beneath the snug waistline of his shorts. 

Gojo spies up at you through his chalky bangs, plastered to his forehead with perspiration until you’re barely making his greedy stare out. Eyes half-hooded, pupils darkly dilated until you couldn’t even see those irises. 

It’s then - only then - that you realize just how ruined he looked. 

With that blossoming injury from tonight’s match across his cheek, burnished and purple - though, not even half as bright as the flush that coated his pretty features. 

All red and raw. You were practically basking in the scalding heat that radiated off of him, melting the glassy sheen of slick that dripped off of him in globules, so fucking wet. 

And yet, Gojo only ever wanted more. Kissing you with his cutely pink lips, he heaves in great panting gusts. “Take- heh-” Massive, twitchy hands fall on your own and guide them to his thick hem, a viscous gumdrop of your sap trickles from the point of his nose. “Take ‘em off f’me, mama. Take a goood long look f’me~”

“So bossy.”

“Mmm— I’ll be fuckin’ that rude mouth shut soon.”

Gojo sits obediently manspread as you fumble your eager fingertips underneath his shorts and pull–

The first thing you see is a curly tuft of his white happy trail, glimmering and drenched through with his own buttery precum. 

And the second thing you see…fuck. He’s never been harder.

Swollen n’ aching. Gojo’s furiously reddened mushroom tip dribbles out a constant stream of syrupy pre, hitting your hands with a loud splash! And not just that– he was spilling out a murked milky few dewdrops as if eating you out had him on the very verge of cumming. 

He’s sprawling his swole, veined arms behind his head, letting you gawk and ogle as you please.

And how could you not?

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to just how pretty Gojo and his erect cock was. Damn past ten inches, it’s as if he grows every time you see him for a post-match ritual. 

And so does his rosy cockhead, the exact same shade of pink as his burning cheeks. So wide that your slippery hole clenches ‘round nothing at the sight. All bloated and over-decorated with so many lightning bolted veins, you’re feeling your mouth water at the mere notion of tasting him–

“Ah ah-” He tuts, pulling you away as he once more cradles your throat softly in one hand. 

You pout, “B-but…”

Nodding sloooowly so you understand, “Wanna fuck this pretty pussy. Ride me like a hah- good girl now, m’kay?”

Oh, he was so evil. He knew exactly how that lil’ nickname would have your mind pitching into a state of carnal frenzy.

The desire purely evident on your gorgeous face as you’re toppling your capped knees on either side of his firm, toned waist. 

One masculine hand wrapping around his bulky hilt - aligning it all ready to smooch your pretty pussy - he sliiiides his heavy head to sandwich between your bloated folds. Rocking upwards into a teasing little back n’ forth that leaves his rigid head swatting on your clit. Pap! Pap! Pap! 

“Ready–?” Gojo drawls out in husked syllables, licking his lips to lap up any remnant of you. Wordless, the only thing you can manage out right now is a shaken nod.

Before it feels like you’re being split apart.

You’re whining when your hole stretches out with a rowdy sluuuurp–! just the thickened tip of his length popping in past your entrance. And he’s so fat, you could feel every solid ba-dump–! of his prominent veins tugging your cunt apart. 

“Oh, f-fuck, jus’ look at you.” He’s spitting through gleaming clenched teeth, words hitting you straight into your saccharine sweet pussy. Biting down on his pouty bottom lip, “Just ngh- look at you takin’ me- taking that biiig stretch, fuck.”

Your glassy eyes roll all the way back at the way he wasn’t even halfway inside yet already made you feel so dizzy. Stumbling flailingly into his arms, “Wanna kiss, Toru–”

“S’so cute when you’re all cockdrunk” Gojo whispers as he leaves a stinging spank on your ass, the shock of the force makin’ you swerve your hips deeper down his thick shaft. 

But he doesn’t kiss you - not yet. Instead, he’s chuckling deeply at your adorable irritation, sharp hips bucking off the mattress just so that he could fit himself inside. Up. Up. Up. Probing and probing his pulsing crowned tip over and over to ease inside a few more solid inches. 

“T-Tooooruuuu–”

“Mhm–” He places a warm palm faced open on your tummy, searching for that familiar bump where he’d be ruining you all inside. Where his rounded head would be prying apart your gum-like walls in urgent impales. “I’ll kiss you if ya say ‘biiig stretch’ f’me, my girl.”

You’re squirming your hips impatiently, only to be locked down with only one of Gojo’s hands. Honestly, what did you think going against a fighting champion? “B-big-”

“Nuh uh.” Bearing you with a wild, animalistic smile that makes you shudder. All wide and toothy. He’s rudely slapping you once more - this time on your dripping cunt. Quivering. “Say it. Biiig stretch, mama.”

“B-big-” You wail out whimpers just as soon as your little mistake leaves Gojo’s swollen shaft inching out of your hole, a warning. Already making you feel so empty inside- “Fuck! Big- biiig- stretch mmpf-”

Before you can register it, a hand clawed into your throat pulls you to crash your lips onto Gojo’s soft ones - muffling the absolute trill you’re letting off when he finally bottoms out with one big push. Finally. 

“Now m’kissing you here, too–” he has the audacity to flush. 

His sensual mushroom tip scrapes a swiveling line allll down your gooey walls, swirling ‘round and ‘round until he’s following the map directly to your g-spot. Giving her a good long snog, you’re curling your toes at the swashing waves of pre that dribble out of him and straight onto that tender orifice. 

You’re so full that your mouth overspills with generous helpings of drool, slobbering right onto the valley between his pecs where you found yourself laid. 

The slick velvety walls of your cunt scoop him up gladly, and Gojo finds himself wearing such a dopey smile at the instinctual way your gummy walls clench. “Hmm– have I ever told ya how much I ngh- love you?”

And maybe it was the way his thick cock was reaching you everywhere, maybe it was the way Gojo stared at you with heart eyes. It could’ve been anything and everything - you simply found yourself cumming. 

Right then and there, with only a few vulgar bludgeons of his merciless cock. 

And Gojo?

Gojo looks like he’s in heaven. 

Startling out a slight puff of laughter while he careens his hips back to fuck you through your sudden high, and you can feel the way he pinpricks your insides with every thrust. Feel the way he strikes right at your most favorite spots - precisely. 

“Already? I really am winnin’ tonight- heh. Already won Round 2, too.” 

Round 2? What is he…oh. 

Oh, shit.

He’s talking about how many times he’s made you cum.

The sounds of his raspy praises make your ears buzz, head throwing backwards when you start to arch your back and rut yourself, attempting to meet his vicious pace. To run.

“Fuh-fuuuuck” You’re biting your tongue to try and fight back those pathetic pitches and mewls seeping from your lips. And all it takes is a slamming whack into your cervix to render that useless. “Fuck me- fuckmefuckme, Toooru–!”

“Now now,” he’s tutting, and oh you can feel your tummy lurch with anticipation at that dark tonality of his. Or maybe that was just the feral twitch of his battering tip. 

Through eyes saturated with a film of fat droplets of tears, you’re glancing down at the way your hips are suddenly pinned to his toned pelvis. Unmoving. With just his steady grip of your throat. “Runnin’s against the rules, mama.”

And suddenly, you’re moved so fast your cottony brain begins to wonder if maybe you’ve teleported. 

You’re whimpering as your fatigued back ends up laid over the crescent curves of his pectorals, his front digging into your mounds of flesh as Gojo pulls your clammy knees back back back back. Into a full nelson so mean that you don’t even realize he’s positioned his cock until he sinks allll the way back in–

“Atttta girl. Look at youuu–” His hoarse pants sizzle the tender lobes of your ear after every unapologetic pound you’re being graced with. You gawp at the full-length mirror that was right adjacent to the patient bed, shit- you forgot that was even there.  

And now that you’d taken a glimpse at the lecherous scene, you couldn’t look away.

Gojo was so staggering. Swole muscles bending you pliably, the only thing holding you upright enough so that your cross-eyed stare could lock with your fucked-out reflection in the mirror. 

Your dizzy pupils circling all over comically the more n’ more he jackhammered away. Vehemently. 

The girth of his shaft was so big that your head lolls stupidly back into the planes of his collarbones, “Takin’ care of ya favorite fighter.”

Five exact circumferences of his fingertips sway over to that large, cylindrical outline being oh-so-thoroughly fucked into you. A tummy bulge that he thumbs over, that mushroomy globular end.

“Takin’ c-care of me alllll ngh-” He massages down on that cute lil’ bump going back and forth back and forth back and forth. Driving himself just as crazy as he was with you. Groaning, “-here.”

And Gojo’s body was still aching from the aftereffects of his fight, he was still sore in places with soon-to-be bruises. Yet, he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t even slow down.

Hard and fast.

His crownhead an angry red that prodded your deepest, most tender insides. Pushing and pushing and pushing. So wide that both you and the rickety bed were singing with whimpers after every delving drag of his vein-covered length.

Strokes vulgar. Alllll the way from the very strawberry divot in the middle of his globular tip, to the massive circumference of his hefty base. And even though every pricking whack into your cervix was hard, Gojo took his lazy time pulling back out to make sure you felt every bump and bolt of his swollen veins scraping down your insides. 

“Watch this.”

“Wh-what- oh.”

You’re peering through the smoggy mirror at the way the strongest himself rovers up his big, beefy right arm to wrap neatly ‘round your neck. His hard-earned biceps bulging against your throat and blocking off your airway sexily.

Watching yourself, you swear you could count every vein thumping down his forearm, every flex of his rippling muscles caging against your neck. Oh…you only got wetter. 

“Saw you lookin’ at me. Could tell how much ya- haaah- liked this, mama.” Gojo titters, words sloppy and his strokes even sloppier. “Almost drenched the heh- seat didn’tya? Watching me? Ohhh you like this don’tcha? W’my big arms puttin’ you in a ngh- big headlock?”

Babbling. Gojo himself was drooling, a thin trickle of spittle that befell with every passing second he watched your sloppy slit swallow his inches. 

Yearning for more.

Begging for more.

You half-couldn’t believe that was you with your face tear-streaked and oh-so-ruined in the reflection. And once you feel that familiar fluttering from your pussy, you’re slithering down a hand between your legs–

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” He was breathless. 

It was so easy for Gojo to trap both your unsteady wrists within only one of his, gruffly bringing you back into your cute headlock whilst pinning them so you could struggle allll you want. But he wasn’t letting up.

Clinging onto your swiveling with one hand, and keeping you manhandled with the other. He bucks his hips so your curved spine is rubbed all down with his sweat-glossed abs, he knew how weak you were for it. 

Smearing the stocky end of his thumb over your needy clit, “Not when ya have me, mama.” He breathes next to your ear, so close. Drawing circles. Hearts. His name. Mindlessly lapping away the pearls of tears running down your face, “Not when your d-dear ngh- ‘Toru’s’ here.”

And when you’re cumming, it’s with those exact words scratching a carnal desire set inside of you. 

“Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming- ngh!” Your previous orgasms had already taken so much out of you that it was all you could to will yourself not to pass out right now and here. 

“Yeah? Yeah? Go on- I- ngh- win- round three- heh.”

Sharp stings of pleasure buzzing all the way from your throbbing pussy to your empty head, you draaag your nails all over his sturdy forearms. Your body slicks over with sweltering perspiration, glissading you smoothly up n’ down Gojo’s sculptured body. 

Gojo jostles you in his headlock to stare deeply into your eyes while he drags out your high, counting every filthy spank he was honing out. It’s not too far into your overstimulated high before his creamy tip showers your drenched insides with sprays of buttery cum.

You could hear yourself mumbling out faint nonsense with every ropey smack you felt pumped inside you, and it was as if Gojo was orgasming harder than he had his entire life. 

Cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop - didn’t even know if he could.

And it was so weighty, too.

You could feel the soppy splosh of his sap being bubbled all up inside you, every swab of Gojo’s leaking cockhead frothing it even deeper inside. You’re swearing the bumpy outline of your tummy bulge was only being cumflated, feeling like he was glueing your very walls together.

Naturally, a few slicked gumdrops of cum ooze their way out between your teary slit. His hips jolt at the primal sight, thick seed dribbling out of you like frosting, formulating so many rings upon rings that Gojo just can’t help but admire and muse as his most favorite ones. 

Shit, with a humid pop! he’s inching out just to watch the butter-covered sheen that stuck to his red shaft. 

Hooded, his sapphire gaze rips away from your reflection to narrow down at you. At the way your ancient patient bed was now completely destroyed; headboard split, standing on only three feeble legs. 

“Broke the bed, heh- tha’s a KO, my girl.” Gojo lets go of his headlock on you, nuzzling your cheek with his sweat-lacquered forehead whilst you still attempt to catch your breath. “Mmmm– really do love you, y’know- the fuckin’ b-best prize I could ever have.”

“I love you too–” You find your cartoonishly dazed smile directed up at him. “-Six Eyes.”

With a soft groan, he twiddles his thumb over to toy with the sticky seconds of his seed pouring out of you. Lazily.

Letting it scoop onto his fingerpads, shoving it back between your slippy lips. Repeatedly even painting a languid heart with it over your tummy bulge- before skidding the salted cream between your lips. 

With a fat few fingers stuffed into your dampening maw, overflowing with glutinous saliva, you’re letting your eyes stray back to the reflection in the mirror. Blinking back your vision-

“Holy shit.” You’re gaping - at everything from the way that Gojo Satoru had seemed to gain more red, red scratches and bruises all over his arms, back, and pecs from you than in an actual fight, to the way he seemed utterly content about it. “T-Toru, I gave you more marks than Sukuna did during the Shinjuku Showdown…”

“I know.”

.

.

.

“Aaaand welcome back, folks! To the Shinjuku Showdown 2.0!” 

You wince, Haibara’s commentating voice would never grow any less booming no matter how many times you sat here. Front row for yet another one of Gojo’s famed fights. 

Though, you squirm in your seat, you wished he could get here sooner. 

“Requested by our very own King of Curses- he’s quite a sore loser you see- oh, my mistake, Mr. Sukuna, sir. You are the underground’s most honorable fighter, of course of course.”

Ryomen Sukuna scowls even as the crows roar and yell rambunctiously around him, eyes falling on you - for the briefest, tensest second - before he tears away. Pacing around the barren ring like a tiger prowling for his prey.

Only, said prey wasn’t going down without making sure that Sukuna knew the true hierarchy here. 

“FINALLY! Hereee we have our monster of Japan, Six Eyes, making his long-awaited entrance tonight! Ohhh place your bets, ladies and gentlemen, tonight is going to be goooood!”

When Gojo Satoru entered the ring, everyone knew. Everyone held their breath.

It never got old seeing his generously over six-foot figure loom menacingly towards the ring, draped in a dark blue robe of crushed velvet. Which just-so-happened to be the exact color of your matching lingerie tonight…

Usual gloves on hand, a tiny, plastic remote in hand.

You’re shivering as he twiddles it over deftly, pulling down the hiked-up hem of your nurse’s outfit. Just praying that nobody could hear the bzzz–! of that hot-pink bullet vibrator lodged inside your sloppy pussy.

Meant to be there for the entire fight. 

The cutting stadium air was so tautly-pulled that you could hear every resounding thud! of his powerful footsteps as Haibara rattles off Sukuna’s introduction. Jumping swiftly and athletically over the ropes of the ring. 

“And in THIS corner, we have Six Eyes, The Strongest. Some fear to speak his name. Some think he isn’t human. With a winning streak ever since he arrived here, with so many knockouts that it’s said they created a new medical term for it. Challenge him and you challenge death. The man. The myth. The nightmare-” 

Then Gojo straightens- 

“-a monster that can never be tamed!”

-and he lets his robe fall.

All red, angry patterns of scratches on full display for the countless rabid photographers and watchers to gawk at. Down his back, down his arms, down his pecs.

Everywhere and anywhere for the eye to see, and to see Gojo- Six Eyes of all people to be so thoroughly claimed. As if he was thrown to the wolves - someone put a hand on him?

Oh, you could hear the reporters stumbling over their questions as they screamed for answers and relationship reveals. 

Though, all of them were answered once he turns straight to you. Miniscule remote calibrated to the very maximum before Gojo fucking throws it somewhere into the ringside. Even through his muzzle, you could tell he was grinning as you gasped at the lecherous vibrations pulsating to your g-spot. 

Over and over whilst media personnel - realizing your connection to the most dangerous underground fighter in all of Japan - jostled you for more juicy details. Fuck- everyone was going to know about this. Everyone. 

Gojo turns back to a fuming Sukuna with a quirk of his ivory brow. 

“The monster has- has been tamed! Let the fight begin!”

A/N. FAWK I NEED HIM. Was this slightly inspired by all the boxing talk going on in my blog? Mayhaps. 

“OH! King of Curses down- Six Eyes knees him in the ribs so hard that I’m sure you could hear it, ladies and gentleman! Is he the one who’ll take the Shinjuku Showdown grand prize tonight?!” 

You’re grimacing at both the booming volume of the eager commentator, and the cracking slam of flesh-on-flesh. Having your special nurse’s position smack-dab on the first row meant that you could see n’ hear everything. 

Everything. 

From the roaring cheers of the bustling crowd on their feet, to the way that Gojo was gritting through his dark Stygian muzzle and grinning. Wild. Gorgeous.

Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily - despite the way the entire underworld had his name in their mouths, the one thing nobody ever disagreed on was how…hot Gojo Satoru was. 

A devil masquerading like an angel. All curtains of silky, sweat-slicked white hair, and muscles for daaaays. His skin-tight t-shirt was hanging off of him in nothing but rings of tatters, showing off a snowy happy trail that makes you gulp. Milky skin glistening in the beating stadium lighting, all decorated in as much battle-won scars as sultry, sultry veins. 

Gojo’s towering shadow falls right in front of where you were gawking up at him, and fuck- he makes a big show of letting the rest of his shirt riiiip—! with only a mere tug. 

Well, there was a reason he was your favorite patient.

And you swear he was so close that you could practically taste the scorching iron dripping between his lips, lacquering his pearly whites with a thin film. All red and raw when he turns to you and winks–

“HOLY SHIT! The King makes a comeback- he’s still on his feet! And he’s swinging wide at our monster Six Eyes.”

The thundering, thick stadium air simmers a few degrees tenser as Ryomen Sukuna crashes his meaty, closed fist right into the other’s right cheekbone. Shocked inhales ring out all around you - because if Gojo was the monster of underground fighting, then Sukuna was the curse.

The only fighter in history to ever get a solid few knocks on the other. Both massive.

And if this was anyone else, the sheer force would have made them pass out right then and there. If this was anyone else, then they wouldn’t be snickering-

“Cute.” Gojo’s deep sing-song voice is cold. Seething. Just barely audible enough that your buzzing eardrums can make out. He throws one arm over the stretchy fighting ring ropes, “But I gotta lady ta impress.”

Crimson eyes flicker to you for nothing but a split-second, but it was long enough for the other man to grow rigid. On edge for the first time.

Smugly, Sukuna spits right into Gojo’s face. “Heh- Hell yeah, that chick’ll be impressed in the locker rooms by a real winner later. Me.”

Just a word about you is all it takes.

A breathless gasp departs from your lips as something in Gojo grows…different.

Without another word, he’s drifting over a hand to one of the bulky bands wrapped firmly around his wrists. Unlatching them. So often mistaken for somewhat of a fashion statement, but after so long spent in fighting company, you knew what they really were.

They were weights. Yet another disadvantage. 

And they crack the ground as they fall.

“Weights? Weights?! OH- Gojo headbutts! The King of Curse’s is down-” He’s bleeding and accomplished, every trace of humor wiped. Every degree of a smirk clenched into a steely scowl, and suddenly you’re feeling that perhaps those rumors about him being superhuman are true. Perhaps. “SHIT! He snaps back with an elbow strike-”

Gojo’s big, beefy biceps tense and flex as he curls it menacingly around Sukuna’s throat into a fucking headlock - and your thighs clench.

“You- fucking-” He chokes out past the sculptured harness, cushioned palms coming to slam down on Gojo’s forearm. “For- for some girl-”

Tightening, “What was that~?”

“The King misses- oh, he’s in some real trouble now! Place your bets, you greedy watchers, there’s a reason they call Six Eyes ‘The Strongest’.”

And you knew that underground fights had no rules other than attempt not to die - or, at the very least, try not to make a mess when you do. It’s hard to get stains out of the felt. But Sukuna’s vein-popped face was going purple now, and Gojo was blank-featured through it all. 

Barely even flinching as his opponent grapples a hand into his ridged obliques, lunging and lunging. And yet, the strongest doesn’t even flinch. 

Doesn’t even notice, it seems.

His ghostly cerulean eyes drift to you, seated on the edge of your chair, and he slams a knee into Sukuna’s rugged face. Letting the man drop onto the frictional ground with a resounding thud! - before his fists continue. 

Once. Twice. Clawing at his throat-

“FUCK- CALL THE MEDICS. SIX EYES IS MAKING A SLAUGHTER-SCENE–!”

And no one needed to draw the count, for fear of getting near. Why would they risk death incarnate?

Continuing and continuing until Yaga barks at four- five other referees to even get Gojo to budge. They only just manage to throw a few arms ‘round his powerful ones, and pull him far back enough to giggle down at the carnage he’s created.

Voice octaves higher. Crazed. “Don’t you talk about my lady, ya hear?”

Yaga, as Gojo’s burly coach and former champion, is the one that dares break his harrowing eye-contact to shake him into a stand. Ordering the organizers to get the awards ceremony done as swiftly as possible lest they wanted one of their top-earning fighters down for the count permanently. 

“S-Six Eyes is the champion of Shinjuku Showdown! And in LESS than his signature six moves- oh what a fight it was! One for the books, folks!”

Of course, Six Eyes is declared the winner.

And as Gojo is handed a glinting winner’s banner - dominant arm being thrust in the air - you watch as Sukuna’s barely half-conscious firm slurs out a ferocious, “Rematch. T-tomorrow.”

Cash. A shoddy belt. Champagne.

Tens upon hundreds of reporters and photographers scramble and keen to get the most-selling shots of him. The glare of the flashing lights illuminating him into some sort of other-worldly figure. 

A fighter so dangerous that they claim he hides six eyes. And yet, they only remain on you.

Though, it’s not as if you’re any better - you can’t look away. 

He stands tall, proud. Button nose overspilling with a wisp of cherry-red, perspiration-dampened shorts clinging onto thick thighs and showing you a pretty tuft of white in a way that was unintentionally sexy. Gojo’s leathery mask now dangles haphazardly to show off such a wicked grin.

And Gojo points. Right at you. In front of everyone. 

“Later,” he’s mouthing, whilst interviewers scream for a quote. 

Oh…

.

.

.

“Fuh-fuuuck, Toru–!” Your mouth floods with sheer bucketloads of drool through each wailing whine n’ whimper, back arched like such a slut into Gojo’s bumpy, Herculean front- though, what else could you have expected when the great Gojo Satoru himself accompanied you to your dingy clinic above the fighting ring?

Ready for his real prize of the night.

And lo and behold, bandages and rubbing alcohol forgotten, you’re finding yourself draped right over his lap so prettily; struggling to close your jittery legs ‘round his huge, meaty thighs. 

The fringes of your teeth nip right along Gojo’s plush, scarred deltoids once he tugs on your nurse’s outfit and clings onto a good handful of your ass, draaaagging you to grind all over his quadriceps. Dribbling out a fresh line of candied slick that smears on top of every dip and curve of his bulging muscles.

Your drenched panties catch onto his velvety boxing shorts and you have to hold back a tiny sob. With a deep inhale of his musky cologne, you murmur, “T-Toru, I wan’ you ngh- so bad, y’know?”

“Awww, how cute~” He’s crooning from above,muzzle still on. The pointed curve of his nose tickling your throbbing pulse. Dangerous. Gojo breathes in your sweet scent until it’s all he can smell, “But yer gonna get us caught, mama.”

And he’s so mean.

He fought mean, and he teases you even meaner.

You’re frowning, kiss-swollen lips down-turning into a pout once the sensory pads of his stern digits rover up to your cheeks and smush them together. Crashing your jutted mouth into his frosty mask–

“C’mon now, gotta- gotta be quiet.” Gojo groans at the way you’re getting ever-more soaked when he’s toying with you like this. Lazily, he drops his muzzle to let his plump, bubblegum-pink lips tickle down your own, “Suck on my tongue, there- you can do better.”

So filthy.

Huffing out, your further unfastened jaw basically floods with the damp rivulets of saliva that just kept on watering out of you. When it rained, it poured - and Gojo finds himself smirking at the slop. “Yeah- yeahyeah, you got it. Theeere’s a good girl.”

Weepy pussy positively throbbing at the scratchy texture of his tongue like candy, you couldn’t help but let your fuzzy mind wonder how it would feel inside-

“Oi, nasty girl.” Your pitchy yelp fills the paper-thin walls as Gojo gifts the right of your ass with a rude spank, and then one more just to hear you make that cute noise again. Gruffing out, “Can feel ya getting wetter on top of me. S’like a damn waterpark.”

Before you have the time to even catch your breath, he slouches back sensually to watch you - letting your thin patient bed ring out with an ancient creak! 

And Gojo stares at you lecherously- oh, he was devouring you with his heavily half-lidded gaze. 

The way you’re pouring out syrupy sap with every urgent back n’ forth of your hips, the way all he has to do is hook a thumb past your gluey stuck panties to watch you pulse and quiver. 

Hazy, summer blue peripherals roaming all over your needy expression for a split-second before he’s tap-tap-tapping the doughy mound of his heel on the tile floor. Bouncing you with every motioned lurch, your puffed-up clit catches on one of his zig-zagging veins and you squeal.

Oh? Speeding up, you’re struggling desperately at his whims. One hand grappling onto Gojo’s dimpled back, and the other clawing at the starchy bedspread, no matter how much you were trying to regulate the tempo - he would just speed up more. 

And more. And more. 

Over and over he’s lurching just a few carnal inches off of your bedsprings to chase your sensitive nub. Reeling you down - hard - with a hand stuck to you like adhesive, to pap! against his thigh, letting white-hot bliss spark all that way from your pressurized clit and up your clammy spine.

“F-fuck!” You’re babbling away, fingers interlocking with the soft creamy curls at his nape. Clawing. “Toru– k-keep that up and I won’t…”

Gojo perks his calloused thumb to swivel over your sloshing mess and promptly plugs up your unfastened lips, muffling you. “Shhh shh sh- Wouldn’t wan’ any of those fucks to hear those pretty noises, my girl.”

He was brutal.

Your lower tummy was tumbling and spinning and doing gymnastics you didn’t even think existed. And it was times like this that the strongest from all those headlines peaked his head through. 

Swirling your tongue around his plummy fingerpad, he tasted so much like caramel salt that made your legs grow weaker. Cadence springing to jerky. To oversensitive. “P-please- ngh!”

“Now, what was that pretty lil- hey now, c’mere.” Your lungs cave with a soft ‘please’ as soon as an engulfing, bruised hand crowns your sweat-oiled scalp and holds you still. Gojo doesn’t even have to try, and yet he’s showing off a few sexy flexes of his biceps just for you to ogle at. 

Rutting his jerky leg up into you until your head throws back, he can’t help but leave a sweet, innocent peck right there on the tender spot of your throat. “Don’t run. Don’t run from me.”

Another wet kiss near your slobbery maw, and yet another swat of his thickly tipped fingers right over the slivery slope of your pussy. The sharp sting was just enough to get your glassy eyes to focus on him, “Yeah? Look at me- gimme a lil’ kiss, mama.”

Oh, he always was such a ruthless opponent. 

Because as soon as your spit-glossed lips are crawling towards his, Gojo’s prying them open and spitting inside with a soft coo. Watching as the treacly wad of splashing syrup slides allll the way to puddle the back of your throat. 

“T-tease.”

“I think you mean…champion.” He hunches you over until you’re slipping n’ sliding all down the ridged rollercoaster of his abs. The fragile points of your hardened nipples massaging into his sensual scars and driving you mad. Sweaty and needy. Boring dead-on into your half-shuttered heart eyes, “Now, tell me what you want.” He hums, still tugging on your bloated outer cunt, watching you gasp. “Tell me what’s got this lady here so fuckin’ wet.”

Your words choke with every viscid tear - tears of bliss. Close. “Want t-to-”

“Mhmm–?”

“To-” You’re just so far gone, your gushing orifice only getting soppier and soppier by the second. And before Gojo’s fourth and final spank comes slamming down on your clit- you’re crying. “Cum- fuck fuck fuck- m’so close. So- m’gonna cum–”

And as soon as it was about to happen - it’s gone.

Immediately, your lungs depart with a disappointed whine. “Nooo–!” Scratching at the pronounced back of his throat, you’re struggling to maneuver your body within his merciless hold. And the entire time Gojo only watches in amusement at his sheer display of strength, “I was so close- fuck! Was about to cum, Toru…”

“Nuh uh.” Gojo’s grinning - grinning. And oh, despite the way that makes his cheek indent with a cute, cratering dimple you already know this won’t bode well for you. “M’starvin’ after that match.”

Before you can dredge up enough brainpower to ask what that meant - he’s already showing you. 

Falling back onto the stark white bed until his head hit the pillows with a dull whoosh! and for the moment you’re simply admiring just how pretty he is. 

This wasn’t the Six Eyes that everyone knew and feared. 

With his ethereal locks splaying out on the cushion like a halo, looking oh-so-pale in comparison to the pretty pink that he was flushing all the way from forehead to neck. Irises half-lidded, crazed. Gojo’s broad, scarred chest heaves with every murked out pant he was whistling out. 

Twiddling over the shoulder strap of that tight lil’ number you called your nurse’s outfit. “Take this off f’me- show me my hah- show me my lady.” 

Oh, it would never get old when you do that.

The way that Gojo’s toes curl, the apples of his cheeks staining with a scorching whirlwind of blushing red. Fuck- his heavy tongue droops even heavier with a slick covering of watery spittle, just watching you in your matching set of bra n’ panties. 

All in light blue.

“Knew I’d win, huh?” He’s quirking a snowy brow smugly as he does away with your bra, too. “C’mere.” Gojo’s long lashes flutter up at you delicately, his crowning smirk plastered permanently across his handsome features. And as you’re tentatively making your way on top of him, he cups a roaming grope of your left ass-cheek. 

Squeezing for a second - two - before the strongest simply lifts you up to straddle his face. He doesn’t even waste a second. Doesn’t even hesitate. 

Setting you down gently - you think he of all people would even need to try to manhandle your pretty self this way?

No introductions, no welcome mats necessary - your throbbing pussy was already pouring out in torrentials of translucent sap right through your underwear. Copious, dolloping droplets that hit his readily awaiting pinkish tastebuds in claggy splats!

“Mmm—” He’s swirling his soaked muscle all ‘round the insides of his mouth to just savor your sugary taste. Through a sharp, three-second spank to your ass once more, Gojo grunts, “No need to be shy. Sit on my face, mama.”

And Gojo was always such a messy eater - not even the slightest bit afraid to get his hands dirty. 

No wonder all his opponents complained that he had the filthiest mouth. His tongue was lengthy, dexterous enough to slither past your panties with a sapping squelch! the very nanosecond your drooling core hits the tip of his tongue.

Oh- Gojo’s eyes agonize shut simply to memorize the pattern in which your strands of dangling slick slipped into his mouth. Lathering his chin all glossy, “Yeah like that-” His rugged palms stick to that perfect curvature of your spine. “-sit properly. Sit.”

You’re mumbling out something barely audible, cut off when he curls a firm hand around your throat and pulls you down onto his ravenous face. “Said- fucking sit-”

Sweltering hot breath strikes your geysering hole and makes you keen, your cracked eyelids open just barely enough to spot the way Gojo lands a shimmering glob of saliva right inside. And more when it only adds to the steadily-growing pool you were formulating on his pointed chin, his neck. 

Whimpering when your weight settles on a purple-ish spot on his cheek where Sukuna had caught him off-guard. 

“Watch this.” He’s moaning throatily, making such a show of letting your slippery slit streak out utter cascades all down his tongue. “Told ya- s’a fuckin’ heh- waterpark. Come ride my mouth, my girl- come- come.”

Your head tumbles back with a loud ‘fuck’ when his parched muscle bullies right past the rubbery ring of your entrance. And he takes the time curling his mazing tip into your slicked hole and streeeetching out a cute lil’ heart that makes you whine your poor heart out. 

With a scoff at the way whoever walked by your clinic definitely knew what was happening, Gojo’s slapping the tender skin of your ass raw. “Yeah yeah, louder n’ maybe that ngh- bastard Sukuna will hear.”

Slowly yet sensually probing his tastebuds into every mushy ridge and corner embedded inside of you, he was roaming so deep. Raking a thorough grip on your right ass cheek to gyrate your sodden cunt rougher.

Fucking you wiiildly with his tongue - so wide. Fast. 

He was impatient. 

“Y’know with you sittin’ and- nghh-” You’re mewling once he tapes off that sentence with a pinch of your perked clit between his plush lips. Hollowing out those attractive cheeks to tug n’ tug until you’re sobbing. “-and- and squirming in the seats tonight- this was alllll I could think about?”

He spits back a loaded wad of drool that slides away back down to your flooded hole, pushing the webbed mess right back with the fat crown of his thumb. “Couldn’t wait-”

“Ngh- Toru—” You’re recanting like your own personal mantra, the crackles in your voice following every flop of his textured tongue in and out in and out in and out. “Keep going- hah! Feels so gooood–”

“Mhm, I know.” Gojo bites back cockily, chewing on the squishy inside of his cheek to stop himself from fucking moaning outloud at how your pussylips were just throbbing. The very same pulse you felt in your tight throat. “Had to stop myself from- ngh- making out with this lady right ‘ere all in front- in front of those cameras.”

“Y-you would-”

THWACK!

Oh, he’s snapping at the stretchy elastic of your panties to let the slimy fabric spank your precise pussymound.

Taking the filthy, filthy opportunity while you’re thrown into a dumbstruck daze to skim a few strong fingers underneath your stringy panties, Gojo pulls-pulls-pulls until it’s torn cleanly off of your hips. Freeing you completely bare, and gifting him with the perfect scented fabric for him to draw up to his nose and sniff–

Your jaw dangles widely agape, the same greedy oh! that your dewy hole makes when setting it aside to dip a finger sloppily inside your cunt.

Stocky and long. And yet you take Gojo’s length middle finger with great gulping clamps of your dripping pussy, so much so that you’re hearing a growling “Fuuuck, mama- m-made for me.” from underneath you.

You just made the strongest…stutter?

And you’re just pouring wet from the idea, but before you can stupidly open your mouth to taunt the big, bad fighter below you - Gojo squeezes his hold on your neck and draaaags you further down. Until you’re so pushed against his hot maw that you don’t know where you end and he begins.

He’s spitting, there’s another pop! as he adds another girthy finger to scissor apart your treacly slit. Rovering and rovering. Your voice shatters into numerous pieces so cutely, and he can feel the way your core pulsates frantically once he’s smudging the doughy tops of his digits nearer to your g-spot. 

Hmmm, he’s snickering internally. Gojo’s swirlin’ his manicured fingernail right over your bulging magical spots with such ease. It was so cute how obvious you were. 

“Got such a pretty cunt.” You’re arching desperately on and off his vibrato of words, the very same vibrations curdling that tightness in your stomach. “Such a pretty- pretty…”

“Sh-shiiit, Toru–” You hiccup, warbling shrills filling up Gojo’s ears like his favorite song. And it was. Almost as much as the plap! of a fresh wave of sap spraying a sheen across his face as he slithers in a third finger.

Sliding his pearly whites over your neglected clit, “Tha’s my name.” Gojo’s mouth hangs open with every slop, slapping alllll over the hood of your nub before trying to squish the very mound of his tongue in past your overstuffed entrance. Stimulating you. Driving you insane.

He’s swatting your ass a few more times until the mere touch of skin-on-skin sends your eyes sliiiding all the way to the back of your head. Gurgling – wet. “Say it a lil’ louder f’me now.”

“Toru–” you’re raking your hands down his pecs, nudging your plump clit right into the very tip of his button nose. And oh, you’re feeling the frigid whoosh! of air once Gojo leans his head in and takes a deeeep breath. Tugging gingerly on his unruly hair and he groans-

“Louder.”

“T-To-”

“No stutterin’.”

And you don’t know if you could comply with all his mean rules even if you could, the locked vice of his warm palm jostling your watery eyes until they were dead staring at him. 

He was peering up at you through angelic, white lashes with such loving. Cerise lips swirling all over your beating clit, he could practically taste the rapid ba-dump–! of it coating his heated mouth. 

Starting to crawl straightly up but you don’t even mean to. All he has to do is grasp your throat until all the air drains from your lungs and you’re held there. Solely by his monstrous strength. 

Swallowing back the leaden lump that’s permanently branded on your throat, with a flex of broad arms you’re being lazily shoved sloppier and sloppier by each passing second. And as you’re resting your dribbling slit back on his sensual chin, a steamy cloud of Gojo’s giggles hit where you’re stretched the most tautly tight. 

Blinking eyes flickering with primal need, your bleary vision is just filled with the heavenly sight of him him him. Urging your rickety knees to knobble faster, he murmurs into your folds. “Say it.”

“P-please.” The outdated bed sings as you’re shivering. Shaking. And no amount of cute gasps that you intake is enough to stop your heart from racing. “Toru. Please l-let me ngh- cum.”

“Hmmmm. Good enough.” He’s leering mean-spiritedly up at you, that very same wicked curve of his lips glued to your pretty clit. Gojo lets off a strained growl that almost makes you shy – desperate. “Now…you’re gonna squirt f’me, mama.” 

Another hit thud! of hits at your g-spot, and another few steps closer to your inevitable high. So close, in fact, that you’re not even realizing what Gojo’d uttered until he lolls out his fat tongue like he was drunken, silvery slabs of spit hitting your inner thighs. “Spit.”

Fuck- the very same moment your glittery cobweb of saliva is hitting his sizzling tastebuds, you’re hitting your high. Well, more like crashing headfirst into it. 

And Gojo was right, the way you squirted your brain-shattered release was in the most vapid spurts of juices. Spraying out of you like a fountain, sploshing all over the top of his face n’ gravitating down to his chin. “Squirt on my face- yeahyeah fuck, squirt on my face.”

One that he loooooves. Oh, how he loves it. Loves you. 

“So sweet- fuck…fuck, always the fuckin’ sweetest, my girl.” His guttural syllables ring out and make your eyes immediately flap helplessly shut. Toes curling, “Thank you- was so fuckin’ thirsty after that fight. Thank you.”

Lets his swollen lips slip open to drink up the honeyed squirts in big, deep sluuuuurps–! Scraping near your g-spot to draw out more and more of those pooling splotches all over his face. Gojo knots his fingers ‘round your throat and shoves your pussy to cling to his mouth ruthlessly. You’re watching through the white-hot stars behind your lids at how obviously his prominent Adam’s apple bumps and propels. 

Fuck. 

Glossy layers of slick stick to your folds like a candied apple, and every lil’ suck Gojo leaves drives you craaazy. Soon enough, your thighs are twitching right on top of him, “Please, Toru–”

“Mmmm–?” He’s panting, positively blistered in sweat at this point. And even when he’s catching his eyes with yours, his own look…cloudy. Feral. Murmuring something like ‘round one’ into your outer pussy.

“Want you in me–” You’re babbling out the only few sets of words you know will work to draw him away from the sweet, sweet dessert he’s found between your legs. And you’re watching with bated breath as Gojo takes a sloppy second to consider, still nibbling his canines on your sensitive clit. 

Huffing n’ puffing cutely, you’re reeling your sweet cunt back– only for Gojo to squeeze his hold around your neck and pull-

“Just one more-” He’s contaminating the heady clinic air with repeated saccharine, saturated squelches after every peck upon peck. Like it hurt to part with your pussy - it always did, n’ Gojo made sure to leave her more than enough goodbye kisses.

“One more-” Stringy oodles of slick washing over his face, “One- one more.” Again. Just another French kiss. “One…” And again.

And again and again until you’re dipping your hands through his mussed-up bangs of cloudy white and tugging, all that it takes for Gojo’s achingly hard cock to twitch.

“O-oh.” His voice breaks so many multiple octaves higher as he pulls away with a final - final - slimy graze of his stinging lips. Head lazing in an angle downwards, as if he’d just noticed the painful, rock-hard bulge tenting his too-tight boxing shorts. 

And Gojo’s cerulean eyes widen, flitting from the slushy wet spot soaked through his dark pants, to the way your glistening hole was winking down at him. Needily - as if to beg.

The middle of your bowed spine tingles with the remnants of your orgasm as soon as Gojo opens his mouth to growl. Low. Rasping. 

Depraved. 

“On- on my cock now, mama.” He’s tracing his hands admiringly over your tummy, the edge of his thick thumb drawing a long line right across the middle and your teary slit - measuring you. Where he’d already memorized the sweet lil’ targets he’d be fucking deeeep inside. Could never forget. Gojo nudges his straight nosebridge between your dewy folds once more, “Gotta really celebrate w’my heh- lady here tonight.”

And as you’re scrambling on your still-tottering knees to slide yourself down his Adonis-like body, he scoffs. 

With a blunt roll of his eyes, Gojo’s cupping the curve of your slam-driven ass and manhandling you easily. Trawling your weepy pussy down, down, down over every one of the calloused scars on his front, every one of his bumpy abs - you counted eight - to sit all prettily beneath the snug waistline of his shorts. 

Gojo spies up at you through his chalky bangs, plastered to his forehead with perspiration until you’re barely making his greedy stare out. Eyes half-hooded, pupils darkly dilated until you couldn’t even see those irises. 

It’s then - only then - that you realize just how ruined he looked. 

With that blossoming injury from tonight’s match across his cheek, burnished and purple - though, not even half as bright as the flush that coated his pretty features. 

All red and raw. You were practically basking in the scalding heat that radiated off of him, melting the glassy sheen of slick that dripped off of him in globules, so fucking wet. 

And yet, Gojo only ever wanted more. Kissing you with his cutely pink lips, he heaves in great panting gusts. “Take- heh-” Massive, twitchy hands fall on your own and guide them to his thick hem, a viscous gumdrop of your sap trickles from the point of his nose. “Take ‘em off f’me, mama. Take a goood long look f’me~”

“So bossy.”

“Mmm— I’ll be fuckin’ that rude mouth shut soon.”

Gojo sits obediently manspread as you fumble your eager fingertips underneath his shorts and pull–

The first thing you see is a curly tuft of his white happy trail, glimmering and drenched through with his own buttery precum. 

And the second thing you see…fuck. He’s never been harder.

Swollen n’ aching. Gojo’s furiously reddened mushroom tip dribbles out a constant stream of syrupy pre, hitting your hands with a loud splash! And not just that– he was spilling out a murked milky few dewdrops as if eating you out had him on the very verge of cumming. 

He’s sprawling his swole, veined arms behind his head, letting you gawk and ogle as you please.

And how could you not?

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to just how pretty Gojo and his erect cock was. Damn past ten inches, it’s as if he grows every time you see him for a post-match ritual. 

And so does his rosy cockhead, the exact same shade of pink as his burning cheeks. So wide that your slippery hole clenches ‘round nothing at the sight. All bloated and over-decorated with so many lightning bolted veins, you’re feeling your mouth water at the mere notion of tasting him–

“Ah ah-” He tuts, pulling you away as he once more cradles your throat softly in one hand. 

You pout, “B-but…”

Nodding sloooowly so you understand, “Wanna fuck this pretty pussy. Ride me like a hah- good girl now, m’kay?”

Oh, he was so evil. He knew exactly how that lil’ nickname would have your mind pitching into a state of carnal frenzy.

The desire purely evident on your gorgeous face as you’re toppling your capped knees on either side of his firm, toned waist. 

One masculine hand wrapping around his bulky hilt - aligning it all ready to smooch your pretty pussy - he sliiiides his heavy head to sandwich between your bloated folds. Rocking upwards into a teasing little back n’ forth that leaves his rigid head swatting on your clit. Pap! Pap! Pap! 

“Ready–?” Gojo drawls out in husked syllables, licking his lips to lap up any remnant of you. Wordless, the only thing you can manage out right now is a shaken nod.

Before it feels like you’re being split apart.

You’re whining when your hole stretches out with a rowdy sluuuurp–! just the thickened tip of his length popping in past your entrance. And he’s so fat, you could feel every solid ba-dump–! of his prominent veins tugging your cunt apart. 

“Oh, f-fuck, jus’ look at you.” He’s spitting through gleaming clenched teeth, words hitting you straight into your saccharine sweet pussy. Biting down on his pouty bottom lip, “Just ngh- look at you takin’ me- taking that biiig stretch, fuck.”

Your glassy eyes roll all the way back at the way he wasn’t even halfway inside yet already made you feel so dizzy. Stumbling flailingly into his arms, “Wanna kiss, Toru–”

“S’so cute when you’re all cockdrunk” Gojo whispers as he leaves a stinging spank on your ass, the shock of the force makin’ you swerve your hips deeper down his thick shaft. 

But he doesn’t kiss you - not yet. Instead, he’s chuckling deeply at your adorable irritation, sharp hips bucking off the mattress just so that he could fit himself inside. Up. Up. Up. Probing and probing his pulsing crowned tip over and over to ease inside a few more solid inches. 

“T-Tooooruuuu–”

“Mhm–” He places a warm palm faced open on your tummy, searching for that familiar bump where he’d be ruining you all inside. Where his rounded head would be prying apart your gum-like walls in urgent impales. “I’ll kiss you if ya say ‘biiig stretch’ f’me, my girl.”

You’re squirming your hips impatiently, only to be locked down with only one of Gojo’s hands. Honestly, what did you think going against a fighting champion? “B-big-”

“Nuh uh.” Bearing you with a wild, animalistic smile that makes you shudder. All wide and toothy. He’s rudely slapping you once more - this time on your dripping cunt. Quivering. “Say it. Biiig stretch, mama.”

“B-big-” You wail out whimpers just as soon as your little mistake leaves Gojo’s swollen shaft inching out of your hole, a warning. Already making you feel so empty inside- “Fuck! Big- biiig- stretch mmpf-”

Before you can register it, a hand clawed into your throat pulls you to crash your lips onto Gojo’s soft ones - muffling the absolute trill you’re letting off when he finally bottoms out with one big push. Finally. 

“Now m’kissing you here, too–” he has the audacity to flush. 

His sensual mushroom tip scrapes a swiveling line allll down your gooey walls, swirling ‘round and ‘round until he’s following the map directly to your g-spot. Giving her a good long snog, you’re curling your toes at the swashing waves of pre that dribble out of him and straight onto that tender orifice. 

You’re so full that your mouth overspills with generous helpings of drool, slobbering right onto the valley between his pecs where you found yourself laid. 

The slick velvety walls of your cunt scoop him up gladly, and Gojo finds himself wearing such a dopey smile at the instinctual way your gummy walls clench. “Hmm– have I ever told ya how much I ngh- love you?”

And maybe it was the way his thick cock was reaching you everywhere, maybe it was the way Gojo stared at you with heart eyes. It could’ve been anything and everything - you simply found yourself cumming. 

Right then and there, with only a few vulgar bludgeons of his merciless cock. 

And Gojo?

Gojo looks like he’s in heaven. 

Startling out a slight puff of laughter while he careens his hips back to fuck you through your sudden high, and you can feel the way he pinpricks your insides with every thrust. Feel the way he strikes right at your most favorite spots - precisely. 

“Already? I really am winnin’ tonight- heh. Already won Round 2, too.” 

Round 2? What is he…oh. 

Oh, shit.

He’s talking about how many times he’s made you cum.

The sounds of his raspy praises make your ears buzz, head throwing backwards when you start to arch your back and rut yourself, attempting to meet his vicious pace. To run.

“Fuh-fuuuuck” You’re biting your tongue to try and fight back those pathetic pitches and mewls seeping from your lips. And all it takes is a slamming whack into your cervix to render that useless. “Fuck me- fuckmefuckme, Toooru–!”

“Now now,” he’s tutting, and oh you can feel your tummy lurch with anticipation at that dark tonality of his. Or maybe that was just the feral twitch of his battering tip. 

Through eyes saturated with a film of fat droplets of tears, you’re glancing down at the way your hips are suddenly pinned to his toned pelvis. Unmoving. With just his steady grip of your throat. “Runnin’s against the rules, mama.”

And suddenly, you’re moved so fast your cottony brain begins to wonder if maybe you’ve teleported. 

You’re whimpering as your fatigued back ends up laid over the crescent curves of his pectorals, his front digging into your mounds of flesh as Gojo pulls your clammy knees back back back back. Into a full nelson so mean that you don’t even realize he’s positioned his cock until he sinks allll the way back in–

“Atttta girl. Look at youuu–” His hoarse pants sizzle the tender lobes of your ear after every unapologetic pound you’re being graced with. You gawp at the full-length mirror that was right adjacent to the patient bed, shit- you forgot that was even there.  

And now that you’d taken a glimpse at the lecherous scene, you couldn’t look away.

Gojo was so staggering. Swole muscles bending you pliably, the only thing holding you upright enough so that your cross-eyed stare could lock with your fucked-out reflection in the mirror. 

Your dizzy pupils circling all over comically the more n’ more he jackhammered away. Vehemently. 

The girth of his shaft was so big that your head lolls stupidly back into the planes of his collarbones, “Takin’ care of ya favorite fighter.”

Five exact circumferences of his fingertips sway over to that large, cylindrical outline being oh-so-thoroughly fucked into you. A tummy bulge that he thumbs over, that mushroomy globular end.

“Takin’ c-care of me alllll ngh-” He massages down on that cute lil’ bump going back and forth back and forth back and forth. Driving himself just as crazy as he was with you. Groaning, “-here.”

And Gojo’s body was still aching from the aftereffects of his fight, he was still sore in places with soon-to-be bruises. Yet, he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t even slow down.

Hard and fast.

His crownhead an angry red that prodded your deepest, most tender insides. Pushing and pushing and pushing. So wide that both you and the rickety bed were singing with whimpers after every delving drag of his vein-covered length.

Strokes vulgar. Alllll the way from the very strawberry divot in the middle of his globular tip, to the massive circumference of his hefty base. And even though every pricking whack into your cervix was hard, Gojo took his lazy time pulling back out to make sure you felt every bump and bolt of his swollen veins scraping down your insides. 

“Watch this.”

“Wh-what- oh.”

You’re peering through the smoggy mirror at the way the strongest himself rovers up his big, beefy right arm to wrap neatly ‘round your neck. His hard-earned biceps bulging against your throat and blocking off your airway sexily.

Watching yourself, you swear you could count every vein thumping down his forearm, every flex of his rippling muscles caging against your neck. Oh…you only got wetter. 

“Saw you lookin’ at me. Could tell how much ya- haaah- liked this, mama.” Gojo titters, words sloppy and his strokes even sloppier. “Almost drenched the heh- seat didn’tya? Watching me? Ohhh you like this don’tcha? W’my big arms puttin’ you in a ngh- big headlock?”

Babbling. Gojo himself was drooling, a thin trickle of spittle that befell with every passing second he watched your sloppy slit swallow his inches. 

Yearning for more.

Begging for more.

You half-couldn’t believe that was you with your face tear-streaked and oh-so-ruined in the reflection. And once you feel that familiar fluttering from your pussy, you’re slithering down a hand between your legs–

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” He was breathless. 

It was so easy for Gojo to trap both your unsteady wrists within only one of his, gruffly bringing you back into your cute headlock whilst pinning them so you could struggle allll you want. But he wasn’t letting up.

Clinging onto your swiveling with one hand, and keeping you manhandled with the other. He bucks his hips so your curved spine is rubbed all down with his sweat-glossed abs, he knew how weak you were for it. 

Smearing the stocky end of his thumb over your needy clit, “Not when ya have me, mama.” He breathes next to your ear, so close. Drawing circles. Hearts. His name. Mindlessly lapping away the pearls of tears running down your face, “Not when your d-dear ngh- ‘Toru’s’ here.”

And when you’re cumming, it’s with those exact words scratching a carnal desire set inside of you. 

“Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming- ngh!” Your previous orgasms had already taken so much out of you that it was all you could to will yourself not to pass out right now and here. 

“Yeah? Yeah? Go on- I- ngh- win- round three- heh.”

Sharp stings of pleasure buzzing all the way from your throbbing pussy to your empty head, you draaag your nails all over his sturdy forearms. Your body slicks over with sweltering perspiration, glissading you smoothly up n’ down Gojo’s sculptured body. 

Gojo jostles you in his headlock to stare deeply into your eyes while he drags out your high, counting every filthy spank he was honing out. It’s not too far into your overstimulated high before his creamy tip showers your drenched insides with sprays of buttery cum.

You could hear yourself mumbling out faint nonsense with every ropey smack you felt pumped inside you, and it was as if Gojo was orgasming harder than he had his entire life. 

Cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop - didn’t even know if he could.

And it was so weighty, too.

You could feel the soppy splosh of his sap being bubbled all up inside you, every swab of Gojo’s leaking cockhead frothing it even deeper inside. You’re swearing the bumpy outline of your tummy bulge was only being cumflated, feeling like he was glueing your very walls together.

Naturally, a few slicked gumdrops of cum ooze their way out between your teary slit. His hips jolt at the primal sight, thick seed dribbling out of you like frosting, formulating so many rings upon rings that Gojo just can’t help but admire and muse as his most favorite ones. 

Shit, with a humid pop! he’s inching out just to watch the butter-covered sheen that stuck to his red shaft. 

Hooded, his sapphire gaze rips away from your reflection to narrow down at you. At the way your ancient patient bed was now completely destroyed; headboard split, standing on only three feeble legs. 

“Broke the bed, heh- tha’s a KO, my girl.” Gojo lets go of his headlock on you, nuzzling your cheek with his sweat-lacquered forehead whilst you still attempt to catch your breath. “Mmmm– really do love you, y’know- the fuckin’ b-best prize I could ever have.”

“I love you too–” You find your cartoonishly dazed smile directed up at him. “-Six Eyes.”

With a soft groan, he twiddles his thumb over to toy with the sticky seconds of his seed pouring out of you. Lazily.

Letting it scoop onto his fingerpads, shoving it back between your slippy lips. Repeatedly even painting a languid heart with it over your tummy bulge- before skidding the salted cream between your lips. 

With a fat few fingers stuffed into your dampening maw, overflowing with glutinous saliva, you’re letting your eyes stray back to the reflection in the mirror. Blinking back your vision-

“Holy shit.” You’re gaping - at everything from the way that Gojo Satoru had seemed to gain more red, red scratches and bruises all over his arms, back, and pecs from you than in an actual fight, to the way he seemed utterly content about it. “T-Toru, I gave you more marks than Sukuna did during the Shinjuku Showdown…”

“I know.”

.

.

.

“Aaaand welcome back, folks! To the Shinjuku Showdown 2.0!” 

You wince, Haibara’s commentating voice would never grow any less booming no matter how many times you sat here. Front row for yet another one of Gojo’s famed fights. 

Though, you squirm in your seat, you wished he could get here sooner. 

“Requested by our very own King of Curses- he’s quite a sore loser you see- oh, my mistake, Mr. Sukuna, sir. You are the underground’s most honorable fighter, of course of course.”

Ryomen Sukuna scowls even as the crows roar and yell rambunctiously around him, eyes falling on you - for the briefest, tensest second - before he tears away. Pacing around the barren ring like a tiger prowling for his prey.

Only, said prey wasn’t going down without making sure that Sukuna knew the true hierarchy here. 

“FINALLY! Hereee we have our monster of Japan, Six Eyes, making his long-awaited entrance tonight! Ohhh place your bets, ladies and gentlemen, tonight is going to be goooood!”

When Gojo Satoru entered the ring, everyone knew. Everyone held their breath.

It never got old seeing his generously over six-foot figure loom menacingly towards the ring, draped in a dark blue robe of crushed velvet. Which just-so-happened to be the exact color of your matching lingerie tonight…

Usual gloves on hand, a tiny, plastic remote in hand.

You’re shivering as he twiddles it over deftly, pulling down the hiked-up hem of your nurse’s outfit. Just praying that nobody could hear the bzzz–! of that hot-pink bullet vibrator lodged inside your sloppy pussy.

Meant to be there for the entire fight. 

The cutting stadium air was so tautly-pulled that you could hear every resounding thud! of his powerful footsteps as Haibara rattles off Sukuna’s introduction. Jumping swiftly and athletically over the ropes of the ring. 

“And in THIS corner, we have Six Eyes, The Strongest. Some fear to speak his name. Some think he isn’t human. With a winning streak ever since he arrived here, with so many knockouts that it’s said they created a new medical term for it. Challenge him and you challenge death. The man. The myth. The nightmare-” 

Then Gojo straightens- 

“-a monster that can never be tamed!”

-and he lets his robe fall.

All red, angry patterns of scratches on full display for the countless rabid photographers and watchers to gawk at. Down his back, down his arms, down his pecs.

Everywhere and anywhere for the eye to see, and to see Gojo- Six Eyes of all people to be so thoroughly claimed. As if he was thrown to the wolves - someone put a hand on him?

Oh, you could hear the reporters stumbling over their questions as they screamed for answers and relationship reveals. 

Though, all of them were answered once he turns straight to you. Miniscule remote calibrated to the very maximum before Gojo fucking throws it somewhere into the ringside. Even through his muzzle, you could tell he was grinning as you gasped at the lecherous vibrations pulsating to your g-spot. 

Over and over whilst media personnel - realizing your connection to the most dangerous underground fighter in all of Japan - jostled you for more juicy details. Fuck- everyone was going to know about this. Everyone. 

Gojo turns back to a fuming Sukuna with a quirk of his ivory brow. 

“The monster has- has been tamed! Let the fight begin!”

A/N. FAWK I NEED HIM. Was this slightly inspired by all the boxing talk going on in my blog? Mayhaps. 

has he ever had sex? (in canon)

it's not explicitly confirmed, but we can be 99.9% sure he's a virgin lol. for obvious reasons, he's saving his first time for someone special, someone he's built a connection with.

and right now (as of 544), jake isn't actively looking for one. if he finds someone he ends up liking, those feelings will just...come by chance.

even without his father's example, he's not the type to do casual dating or hookups at all (imo anyway). he's just a chill guy who likes friendship and fishcakes ❤️

favourite positions?

jake is a man of 🌹 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 🌹 so the classic missionary is his fav. cowgirl is nice too, but he just loves the closeness.

how 🗣️ is he?

trust that jake has the most angelic, harmonious, sheet gripping moans in lookism 😮‍💨 very comfortable expressing his pleasure!

loves moaning in your ear during missionary - he wants you to know how good you feel.

what's he actually like during the deed?

gangster son in the streets, gentle lover in the sheets 😇 if you like rough + degrading sex, you're not getting it from him lolz. unless you really wanted to, but he wouldn't enjoy it as much.

jake always prioritises your pleasure over his. #1 of big deal, but also #1 foreplay enjoyer (^_-) makes you cum multiple times on his mouth and fingers before getting to the main event.

and when it actually happens, he never finishes before you. i think jake equally enjoys the intimacy of cumming inside and also how your stomach looks with his release on it.

he likes kissing your neck + whispering his admiration as you catch your breath.

aftercare?

loves cuddling after doing it 💘 just comfortable silence as jake holds you in his arms.

and like i said, he's a gentle lover, so he won't hesitate to carry you (bridal style 🌹) to the shower if he thinks you need the pampering. jake...i've seen wot u did 4 samuel...carry me bridal style PLEASEEE

toys? does he like them?

i don't think many of the lookism men would be into toys tbh. jake isn't an exception. if you want to use them, he doesn't mind, but...they don't tickle his fancy.

does he prefer 🍑 or 🍒 ?

THIGHS! he's a thigh guy. if you wear shorts or a revealing skirt, you'll catch jake staring multiple times. he loves staying in between them too ;)

how 📏 is he?

ptj wants us to know his characters have the biggest, juiciest, thickest cocks in the world 😭😭 eg: the sauna scene with samuel + eli during suwon arc - "woah! those guys are huge!"...like we get it sir...

but i think jake is average sized tbh! not too big, not too small. just the right size :3

💭 a sexual fantasy of his?

again...he's a man of 🌹 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 🌹, so even his fantasies are pretty sweet and romantic.

his secret wish is making love to you by the sea. (the jake + samuel angst location)

but one of big deal could easily spot you, so he stays quiet 🙂‍↕️

if you're both there really late at night and get carried away, it'll probably happen. he'd use his long black coat as a blanket.

a/n: i want to fuck him so bad it makes me look stupid

He reaches for your wrist, close enough to make the contact uncomfortable, but nowhere near what the two of you once were. “Let’s go, I’ve already booked our table.”

“You know how to book tables?” You ask pointedly, trying to ignore the way you walk after him without any protest when he drags you along.

“You say it like I don’t know how to do anything,” Taehoon throws you a look and you almost retort, but think better of it in the end. Instead, you change the topic because you need to keep talking to not think about his hand wrapped around your skin.

“When will you go back to the army?”

Taehoon has a half-smile on his lips when he glances at you, “Eventually.”

“When is eventually?” You press, annoyed at his evasion.

“Eventually is eventually,” Taehoon shrugs, “Why? Eager to get rid of me?”

You don’t miss the undercurrent of seriousness in his voice when he asks you, so you decide to not tease him about it. “No, I’m just wondering because you’ve been around for a while.”

“I’ll be gone before you know it,” Taehoon says nonchalantly, squeezing his hold on your hand, “you should go visit me when you get the chance.”

The impossibility of the suggestion leaves you gaping, “Aren’t you in Special Forces? Can I even visit like that?

Taehoon rolls his eyes affectionately at you, a teasing smile on his lips, “You act like we’re based in the neck of the woods. Our base is in Incheon, you know?”

“How would I know that?” You mutter underneath your breath, glaring at the back of his head.

“I’ll give you the address later, I’ll let you know when you can visit,” Taehoon hums carelessly, already have everything figured out while you’re very much in the dark.

“Don’t just decide for me,” you argue, “I never said I’ll visit you.”

“Why not?” He presses, “we’re friends, aren’t we? What kind of friends don’t see each other ever?”

You deadpan, “Do you make your other friends do the same?”

At the question, he smirks, “No. You’re just special that way.”

You don’t even want to ask what he means, not when the implication is loud and clear and it makes you scowl even further. Lucky for both of you. Your tormenting walk to the restaurant has come to an end. You are glad to escape his hold when the two of you finally get to your table, but before you can make for the opposite seat, Taehoon pulls you down to sit next to him.

He pays no attention to the glare you give him, only opening the menu leisurely with the gait of the man who has never committed grievous sins. “Let’s order something we can share, you never finish the shit you ordered on your own anyway.”

As you open your mouth to protest, you remember the truth of his words and promptly close your mouth. Instead, you redirect your energy towards freeing yourself from his hold. After a few furtive tugs, you slump back down on your seat, going for the nuclear option.

“I’m not going out with you again,” you declare, “we broke up because I didn’t want to do long-distance relationship while I was oversea. How is dating a military guy who’s gone all the time any different?”

Taehoon gives you a look, so impassive in its neutrality that your nerves fray under his scrutiny. Eventually, he looks away, you can almost hear his laughter in the huff he makes. “Aight.” He releases his hold on your hand, allowing you to slip free.

You waste no time making your escape. In hindsight, you should’ve walked out of the restaurant, but something (read: your hunger) possesses you to take the opposite seat instead. “I’m serious,” you say, “I miss you as a friend, but I’m not going down that path with you again, Taehoon.”

He doesn’t reply. Not right away, at least. When he speaks again, it’s only after he slides the menu over to you and leans back in his seat. His hands dig into the pocket of his jacket again.

“Pick so we can order.”

Even as you do so, you don’t miss the way his eyes are glued to you while you keep your head down. You hate to hurt him again, but the idea of a relationship so absent simply don’t sit with you. Maybe you would’ve thought otherwise in another life, maybe not. All that you know is in this one, you don’t want to do it. Not because it’s him, but because it’s you.

There is no reason why your luck would be so bad as to make you meet him again. But it happens anyway.

Rumi takes her retreat after greeting him, waving the excuses of having to see to other guests, but you don’t think she really needs to be in that big of a hurry. Not that he cares, with the way he looks at you at that moment, you don’t think he even realises you aren’t the main event for today.

“Hey.” You smile at him, awkward and unpracticed. You don’t want to know what he has to think if he finds out how desperately you want to avoid him. “You look well.”

He’s taller, if that’s even possible. You can’t tell if he has grown from the time in the army, but somehow, he manages to retain that pale complexion, unblemished by the sun and the rain. There is an absence in him you can’t name, you can only hope you have nothing to do with it. Maybe it’s presumptuous to believe that, it has been years since you saw him last, after all.

“Mhm,” he hums, hands dig firmly into the pockets of his pants. His lack of response is only a little less unnerving than his scrutiny of you. “So do you.”

The awkward silence would drag on for an eternity, has it not for your impatience to escape. “Well, it was nice to see you,” you force the smile to stay on when you meet his eyes again. There is an imperceptible shift of his brow when he hears those words, you try to not overthink what it means. “I’ll have to head out now.”

“Already?” His frown deepens and you have to swallow to keep calm.

“Yeah, I have some commitments I’ve made with friends,” you try to look away, avoiding his examination at all cost. “I only intended to pop in for a few minutes, so…”

He slants his head to the right, “Are you avoiding me?”

“What? No.” You reply, a little bit too quickly. As soon as the words come out, you wince, regretting the impulsivity of your reaction. Only a fool would not notice that.

“Really,” he deadpans, but there is a little smile on his lips, “one would think I was the one who dumped you.”

A groan escapes your lips. All of a sudden, you feel nineteen again. “Taehoon, that’s not fair. Don’t make me feel bad about it.”

His smirk widens and you see a little of the boy you once adored in his eyes. “Why not? Isn’t it my rights?”

“Nobody should have the rights to make fun of their exes,” you mutter petulantly.

“Why not?” Taehoon finally pulls out his hands to cross them in front of his chest. “They could’ve had a shitty ex.”

You purse your lips, not enjoying the implications of his words. “Am I a shitty ex?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, letting you squirm in the uncomfortable silence until the inevitable comes. “You are.”

Ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach, you open your mouth to retort, but somehow, Taehoon still beats you to it. “You didn’t talk to me at all before coming to the conclusion that we should split, you went completely radio silence after you left, and now, you’re avoiding me.”

With every wrongdoings you’ve committed he listed, your indignation grows at the same rate as your shame. You want to argue, but you can’t find the word in your scrambling for a proper thought. This, too, he utilises to the best of his advantage.

“And the worst thing about it, is that you made me miss you when I can’t even call you,” he says quietly. “Worst ex ever.”

You press your lips together, but only manage to muster a weak response. “You wouldn’t get to call me often while serving anyway.”

“But the difference is that I would have the choice to when I can,” Taehoon shrugs, “thanks for robbing me of that.”

You don’t know what else to say to him, maybe it’s because of your conscience stomping what’s left of your intelligence. He deserves it, after the break up the two of you had, he deserves to have all of the resentment and the anger he wants to direct towards you. Yet, the affection is there, and it hurts worse than all of the barbs he has spoken. Because it means this whole time, you’ve denied the two of you of what little time you could’ve had together. But you can’t tell if it was better or worse that you didn’t try harder.

“I’m sorry.” You breathe in, ready to have this whole heartfelt confession about how bad you feel. It would’ve been touching, too.

Had you gotten the chance to say it, that is.

“I don’t want your apology.”

You blank, looking up at him with confusion. Then the idea that he might’ve been angrier than he lets on sink in, and you deflate. “Oh.”

“I want your number,” he shrugs, “I know you changed it when you left.”

Once. Twice. You blink at him, unable to process what he means. Taehoon snorts, “Your phone number. Unless you’ve been running this whole time around the city without a SIM card.”

“No, but…”

Your hesitation is more than enough to make him roll his eyes. “Are you seeing someone right now?”

“Well, no—”

“Then give me your number.”

The previous indignation returns once again, you have half the thought to brawl him in the middle of the wedding. Probably not a good idea. “But what for?”

He looks at you like you asked a stupid question. It probably was. You would be very dim to not understand his intention the whole tangent. Taehoon only extends his hand. The implicit request for your phone makes you sigh and concede, putting your phone into his palm.

You feel a little annoyed when he manages to type in your passcode perfectly on one try, not even bothering to ask you for the number. After he finished dialling his phone, Taehoon returns yours with that familiar impassive look of arrogance again. “Thanks.”

“Wow, look at you knowing how to say thanks,” you mumble, pocketing your phone again, “I guess even you do grow.”

“I’m still a creature of habit,” he retorts, “I already pursued you once, I can do it again.”

You want to argue. You want to say it’s not that easy. You want to believe that your relationship with him was over for good, not simply on pause like the confident way he’s acting. But you can’t find the words again, because you’re here, standing in front of him. If you really didn’t want this, you wouldn’t have stayed for this long, hearing him out.

You wouldn’t have come at all.

“You’re impossible,” you give him a look of resignation, “it’s not as easy as you think.”

“We’ll see,” he says, but the self-assurance in his voice tells you the victory is already in his hands.

His hand came up to the wall beside your head, bracing himself as he leaned in.

"Funny, because you don't seem to mind me being this close."

You glared at him, refusing to back down, even as your breath hitched. "I do mind."

"You're insufferable, you know that, Goo?"

His smirk deepened at your weak protest.

"Really? Then why aren't you pushing me away?"

You hated that he was right, hated that your hands were gripping the fabric of your sleeves instead of shoving him back. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face as if he was savoring the moment.

"You're not very convincing." His voice was low now, almost a whisper, and you swore the space between you felt smaller by the second.

Before you could muster a response, Goo closed the gap. His lips crashed against yours with a force that stole the breath from your lungs.

For a moment, you froze, overwhelmed by the sudden intensity. Then, as his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, something inside you gave in.

You gripped his shirt, your fingers curling into the fabric as he pressed you harder against the wall.

His lips moved against yours with a rhythm that sent sparks racing through your veins.

It was teasing and demanding all at once, like he wanted to unravel you piece by piece. When his teeth grazed your bottom lip, a soft gasp escaped you, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

You felt the weight of his hand on your waist, firm and possessive, as his other hand tilted your chin slightly upward, ensuring you couldn't pull away.

His tongue slid against yours in a way that made your knees weak, and you had to grip his shoulders for balance.

He broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. "Told you you couldn't resist me."

"Shut up." you muttered, your voice shaking, but it didn't mean anything to the both of you. Before he could say anything else, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back in.

This time, the kiss was slower but no less intense. His hands roamed your sides, his touch deliberate, as if memorizing every curve.

When he pressed his body closer to yours, you couldn't help but let out a small, involuntary moan that only seemed to turn him on.

"You make the cutest noises." he teased between kisses, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

"Don't push your luck." You tried to glare at him, but the heat in his gaze melted away any semblance of resistance you had left.

His laugh was low and cocky, vibrating against your skin as he trailed kisses along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. The way his lips lingered there, coupled with the light scrape of his teeth, sent a shiver down your spine.

It felt like an eternity before he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours as both of you caught your breath. His thumb traced slow, lazy circles against your hip, his smirk never leaving his face.

"Admit it. You've been waiting for that."

You glared at him even as your cheeks flushed, your chest heaving. "You're so full of yourself."

"And yet here you are." He leaned in to steal one last, fleeting kiss before pulling back just enough to watch your reaction.