Abandon all hope, ye who enter.

satoru hears the same scolding coming from his parents later that evening.

“we did not pay the school to allow you to enter just for you to pull this—“

“you guys paid the school?” satoru’s brow shot up.

“oh my god.” his mother whispered under her breath, moving her hands away from her husband's shoulders. “you really think they’d allow you to enter with that high school transcript?” mr. gojo gritted out. “you have exactly two months to get them up before the end of the year.”

frat boy! gojo hummed then shrugged. “Shucks, guess there’s nothing I can do. how about I just drop out and take over the company like you’ve always wanted me to.” 

“satoru gojo.” the man’s voice boomed throughout the kitchen. he pointed a finger at Satoru, gritting his teeth. “you will finish college and you will pass.” 

satoru’s groan was muffled by his hand that dragged down his face. “I know.” 

“no! you do not!” 

“alright, honey, calm down.” mrs. gojo placed her hand on his back, rubbing it to prevent him from screaming more. she turned to face satoru. “I will hire you a tutor, sweetheart. your father is right, you have to finish school. then we will talk about you overtaking the company.” 

“alright.” he sighed. 

“two months.” his father raised two digits up. 

frat boy! gojo didn’t expect his tutor to be this pretty. the second you walked into the living room where him and his mother sat, his eyes lit up. you sat down on the couch the maid directed you to, flattening down your skirt as you took in your surroundings.

“hi honey, it’s nice to see that you made it.” mrs. gojo reached out to shake your hand which you happily complied. she turned towards satoru. “this is my son. i’m sure you guys attend the same university, no?”

frat boy! gojo wants to groan at the whole situation. great, not only was he being forced to get extra help but the help is coming from another school mate.

you’ve seen him around sometimes. usually with his hand squeezing a sorority girl’s ass or driving way too fast in the parking lot. 

“mhm.” 

“Have you ever tutored anyone before?” She asked.

“uh.. yeah.” you blinked, composing yourself again. “my younger brother. he has a hard time grasping math so-”

“great.” the woman interrupted. “how often will you be available?” 

“I guess almost every day-” 

“4 pm after school, weekends at 1.” 

you bit the inside of your cheek, becoming frustrated at the fact you could barely finish your sentence. “I take care of my brother on weekends.” 

“oh.” she paused. “you can just bring him along then.” she cleared her throat, continuing. “the pay will be good, I can promise that. I expect you to bring satoru’s grades up before December.” 

you nodded. 

“when will I start?” 

“right now.” 

frat boy! gojo froze. “right now? i’ve got something going on in the frat in half an hour!” he quickly shut up with the look his mother shot him.

despite never interacting with satoru, unless you count that one time he almost ran you over, you knew how unapproachable he was. If you weren’t what he perceived as hot, he wouldn’t bat an eye at you. luckily for you, you're somewhat his type...

“i hope you two get along. Well, I got to get going now. your father is waiting for me. happy studying.” she kissed satoru on the cheek, grabbing her purse to leave. 

the door shut, leaving the two of you. 

you rocked back and forth on your heels as satoru clicked away at his phone, probably texting his friends how his mom actually got him a tutor. “so, um, what classes are you having trouble with.” 

frat boy! gojo exhaled deeply, almost annoyed you even dared speak to him. “biology, mostly.” 

“oh! i'm also taking that right now as well.” you sat down on the seats surrounding the kitchen island. “are we in the same period?” 

“don’t know. It’s a pretty big class.” he stated the obvious, sitting down as well. “how long is this going to last? I’ve got a party to plan.” 

of course he did. “shouldn’t take longer than two hours I think.” 

he groaned. “seriously?” 

“well, we can try and finish in an hour and a half. let’s just start with the basics of biology. do you have your textbooks?” 

satoru sat straight up, suddenly looking suspiciously happy. “yes, I do. they’re upstairs. I’ll be back.” he excused himself, running up to his room.  You tapped your fingers on the island, waiting patiently for a couple of seconds. 

Then the seconds turned to minutes. 

frat boy! gojo had escaped his room, jumping out his window, breaking his fall with a pile of bushes that were put underneath. he had to attend the frat meeting.

safe to say, he got a good scolding once again when he got home.

“When I tell you that you need to raise those grades up, I mean it, Satoru!” Mr. Gojo’s voice echoed throughout the living room. 

You were sat next to Mrs. Gojo on the couch while he and Satoru were standing with the white haired boy getting lectured by his father. 

He cowered. This was so embarrassing. 

“The frat needed me at that moment.” Satoru explained.

“I don’t care! Your mother hired this lovely girl to help you out and you disrespected her by leaving her!”

You wanted to sink into the cushions when Satoru glared at you. 

“You pull this shit again, I force you to leave that stupid frat of yours. You are not a teenager anymore, you are a goddamn adult. Act like it.” 

Mr.Gojo left the room fuming, heading to his office. 

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife and the silence was way too loud. You cleared your throat, slowly standing up. “I should uh, get going.” 

Mrs. Gojo nodded, rising from her spot as well. She planted her hand on the small of your waist, turning to her son. 

“Walk her to her car.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary-” You tried to say. 

“And you apologize to her.” Her tone was stern. 

frat boy! gojo rubbed the bridge of his nose, motioning for you to follow him to the entrance. Neither of you said anything on your little walk. 

Eventually you reached your car. He looked like he was about to say anything. But he didn’t. Not a goodbye nor the apology his mom asked him to say. 

“Asshole.” You mumbled under your breath, giving his muscular back a glare. 

The next day wasn’t any better. 

He’d ignore you, sigh dramatically, and roll his eyes like a spoiled teenager every time you asked if he could do a question. 

“Okay,” You skimmed through his written response. “This isn’t quite right, Satoru.” 

“You don’t get to call me by my first name.” 

Now it was your turn to resist rolling your eyes. “Try again.”

He snatched the paper from your hands rudely, erasing his original answer. This routine continued. Satoru would constantly give you a hard time, refusing to communicate with you properly. The cycle continued until one day, you studied up in his room instead of in the kitchen.

frat boy! gojo stared at you with an annoyed expression on his face. Have you not taken the hint that you were not wanted nor needed here?

“Back again I see.” His voice came from behind, staring daggers into your skull.

You turned around in the spinny chair, facing him. “Well, I am being paid to be here so yes, I am back, again.” 

Satoru scoffed, sitting down on the empty seat next to you. 

On the kitchen island were all kinds of papers and textbooks, all spread out and ready to be used. Doing all of this on a Saturday night was insane. He could be out partying right now, getting drunk off his mind. 

“I have made it pretty clear what I think of you.” 

“What you think of me does not matter. I’m not doing all of this because I care for your grade or I like you. I despise you actually,” Satoru felt his ego get bruised at that. “I was hired by your mother so unless she decides she doesn’t want me tutoring an ungrateful brat like you, I’m not going anywhere.” You shot back. “Now, turn to page 19, I expect you to be finished with chapter two by the end of today's session.” 

Satoru’s eyes widened, completely surprised with you snapping at him. He judged wrong. 

You weren’t a shy nerd he could just push around, you had some bite. 

And he liked it. 

His hands began moving by themselves at your order, opening up his book while fighting back a smile. 

thats because it was the beginning of his little crush on you.

frat boy! gojo stopped making you two study in the kitchen and instead offered to go up into his bedroom instead.

“Didn’t take you for a geek.” Your eyes traveled throughout his room, taking in the shelves full of figures and manga. His walls were full of posters, not leaving one bare. 

Satoru let out a breathy laugh, scratching the back of his head. 

“Guilty pleasures.” 

You hummed, sitting down on his bed. 

He bit back a groan, finding himself somehow getting turned on by you being in his room, let alone on his bed. 

“Oh, my brother watched this one.” You pointed at the Digimon figure on his nightstand. “Yeah?” He eventually joined you, scooting close. “Kids got good taste then.” His eyes flickered down to your lips, gulping. 

You turned to face him, taking notice of his attention being on your lips. 

“Got that one at..” Satoru mumbled quietly, itching closer. “At the.. Fuck.” He placed his lips gently against yours, angling his head to the side. 

You immediately melted into the kiss, putting your hand on his cheek. 

“You’re a good kisser for a virgin.” He licked your bottom lip, seeking entrance. 

“I’m not a virgin…” 

“No?” Satoru moaned when you granted his access, tongue dancing with yours before exploring every inch of your mouth. “

frat boy! gojo swears the kiss meant nothing. that he was just going through ovulation, even though boys don't go through that. so why does his heart keep going mile per hour at the memory of your soft lips on his?

nothing more happened than that, immediately after, you two went back to studying. but he oh so wanted to taste you in other places.

frat boy! gojo starts doing much better on quizzes thanks to you. you were so patient with him even when he repeatedly got things wrong. you started sitting on his lap to get him to focus more.

"every time you get something correct, I'll let you kiss me.

and he was on a streak. he answered questions quickly, pressing his lips on yours in a sweet peck before asking for the next question.

frat boy! gojo swears he isn't in love with you, but his frat bro's would beg to differ. they took notice of his change of attitude and lack of participating in frat meetings.

GETO

you coming tonight? we're gonna go out & drink

GOJO

nah, im busy

GETO

w ur tutor gf?

seen

frat boy! gojo blushed at the idea of calling you his girlfriend. what exactly were you anyways? study partners with benefits? he would feel the way you'd grow wet when you sat on his lap, he knew you wanted more just like him.

even when he did attend the sorority girls parties, the feeling of another girl feeling him up didn't hit the same. they weren't you.

"satoruuuu.." the blonde slurred out, drunk out of her mind and grinding her heat on his thigh. "let's go up to my room. I miss you."

"Uhhh," he looked around, trying to find a nearby exit. "Alright, let me go get a drink real quick and I'll meet you upstairs."

a smile broke out on the girls face, nodding. "okay!"

long story short, he didn't go upstairs.

frat boy! gojo still jerks off daily. but instead of pulling up pornhub or twitter, he pulled out your instagram profile that he had found a week ago - without your knowledge.

nothing got him off anymore unless it was you.

the little photos you had posted up were practically burned onto his phones screen form how much he's viewed them. "fuck, fuck!" he winced when his dick twitched in his hand.

you looked so beautiful today, with your plaid skirt and cute top. he wanted to rip it off your body and fuck you already.

frat boy! gojo still swears on everything that he isn't in love with you! but he's going out before study hours to get you and your mom a bouquet of flowers before heading to your house.

"you always come here, but I've never seen your place." he once commented.

"ah, well," you leaned back onto his chest. "it's not as luxurious as yours."

"you think I care?" he placed his chin on your shoulder, biting lightly at your neck. "do you like that?" he asked, rubbing his hand on the inner of your thigh.

"y-yeah.."

frat boy! gojo got along with your family right off the bat, sitting next to you on the dinner table, chatting with your brother as you all ate. he wished that this was a regular occurrence. would it be if he was yours?

he still swears he isn't in love with you when your mom showed him a baby album of yours.

"oh my god-" you tried snatching it from his hands, but failed.

"you're so cute, look at you." he showed a picture of you riding a pony. you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, hiding away behind your hands.

frat boy! gojo SWEARS he isn't in love with you, but when you asked him to stay the night, he agreed. He laid bare next to you, arms around your body, still placing kisses on your back.

"I love you." you whispered softly.

satoru smiled, bringing you closer to whisper back into your ear.

"I love you too."

frat boy! gojo accepts the fact that he's loved you ever since you stepped foot into his life.

satoru knows well enough that he adores your voice when it’s wrapped around his name.

but he’s decided that he loves it best when it’s completely breaking, paired with the gorgeously suffocating feeling of the skin of your thighs pressed into his fingertips and wrapped around his lips.

he loves when his name is exhaled, high-pitched and whiny like sugar, while his tongue paints a stripe across the wetness coating your lips, swirling circles around your pretty clit.

maybe he liked it the most because it’s how he’s always wanted to hear you say his name — it’s just that you’d always been too fucking stubborn, so insistent on hating him that you’d never stop to think how good you’d taste coating his mouth with your slick.

“sa-ah-toru,” you keen as satoru’s tongue dips past the edge of your soaked hole, curling inwards deliciously, moving slow like he’s savoring every fucking drop.

god, he’s hungry — but he’ll die if he goes too quick and can’t taste you ever again.

and if he grips the back of your thighs just a little bit harder when you sing his name like that? he simply can’t help it. he waited too long for this.

sa-to-ru.

you taste just as sweet as you sound.

you’d burst into his office this morning, bemoaning the fact that satoru hadn’t showed up to the previous briefing with principal yaga, of which ended with yaga blaming it on you. you’re bursting with rage, all up in his face, and it’s all a blur from there until your panties are hooked over your ankle, he’s getting on his knees in front of your office chair, wrapping your thighs over his shoulders, and lapping at your pretty cunt.

he hasn't gasped for air; he’s been too enveloped in your scent to care about breathing. he’ll devour you until no one else can. until all that pretty voice of yours knows how to sound out is sa-to-ru.

satoru narrows his tongue, bullying the muscle deep and slow, down to where you couldn’t have thought possible to reach. his eyes are hazy, half-lidded as you tug at his winter locks, shoving him further into your weeping pussy.

“mmph— fuck,” you pant out, eyes screwed shut as he thrusts his tongue in and out of you at a torturous pace. “fuck— gojo, ‘re going too slow—”

“hmm?” he hums into your clit, sending shockwaves straight up from your core. the sorcerer’s gaze meets yours from under the glimpse of your tits beneath your unbuttoned polo.

he loves you composed, he really does — but you look perfect when you’re all messy, just for him.

his lips glisten with your wetness as he grins. “i'll go faster if you say my name properly, beautiful.”

“h—huh?” your words trail off into a candied whine as he pads his finger just against your entrance, smearing the wetness that covers your folds and popping it into his mouth.

you’re so sweet. fuck, why are you so sweet?

“say my name.” he repeats, his voice cheerful yet rough, the tiniest bit of grit around the edge. “remind me how much you love me, gorgeous.”

your eyes still manage to narrow, even as they glitter with needy frustration. “fuck you— mmh!”

satoru simply frowns against the inside of your thigh as he abruptly bullies the first inch of his finger past your entrance, hissing at how tightly your walls were clamping down on him. his mind goes blurry, swirling with thoughts of how delectable you’d look with your thighs around his hips, bullied open and clamping like a vice down on his cock—

he pulls his finger out with a shudder, cooing at the little pout that forms on your lips. “poor baby. if you can’t handle it, you know, we can stop here. if you want.”

“w— what?” you breathe out, eyes wide and glossy like the thought was insulting. “no, please — please, need you, satoru…”

sa-to-ru.

and you’ve drawn out that last syllable like you want him dead.

“again, sorry?”

“satoru!” you squeal impatiently, and he obliged, simply because he’d never say no to you when you sound like that.

the white-haired man groans, biting down on the inside of your thigh and relishing in the way it makes you whine, all high-pitched and finally sweet on him.

his fingers thrust roughly into your aching pussy, stretching you out and moulding you to shape around his skin. you’re dripping down his palm, and satoru’s mesmerized by the sheen of slick that coats his hand as he pounds his fingers in and out of you steadily.

“shit— so pretty here for me, huh?” satoru whispers reverently, as if speaking directly to your pussy and not to you. “just as sweet as that mouth of yours. just as tight too.”

your hands are making a home for themselves in his hair, hips chasing his thick fingers, grinding yourself further into them like he wasn’t deep enough already. your perfect fucking voice isn’t helping the sorcerer’s case either — he swears he loses every semblance of control he has, bit by bit, at each breath of his name leaving your lips, garbled and slurred and destroyed.

“s’toru, satoru,” your mouth drops open, eyes screwing shut as he curls his fingers right into that spongy spot, office chair creaking as your body slumps back into it. “it’s so— fuck, ‘ts so—”

he laughs breathlessly. “yes, gorgeous?”

“it’s so— oh!”

satoru cherishes everything you have to say, he swears he does.

but he also cherishes the way your lips look, all glossed with drool pooling at the corners, when he leans forward and circles his tongue over your clit in mean little motions, lapping at the sensitive skin in tandem with the rhythm of his fingers. you’re a whining, squirming mess — struggling to stay upright, thoroughly desecrated on the office chair you’d chewed him out just weeks ago for stealing.

satoru hisses as your fingertips tug at his locks, so fucking drunk on the taste of your soaked cunt amidst the lewd sound of his fingers slapping against your sex.

“listen to that,” he rasps out, pausing to let the squelch of your pussy speak for itself before laughing dazedly against your clit. “she’s screaming my name too, isn’t she? so fuckin’ good for me, aren’t you?”

your bleary gaze peeks down at him, eyes questioning amidst the pleasure. “s—satoru, you asshole, stop talking to my— mmh!”

before you can protest, his mouth is diving back in. soft lips latch around your clit, and satoru’s painfully hard at the sound of your voice cracking around the syllables of his name, your throat thick with pleasure at the overstimulation. he doesn’t let up; the white-haired man sucks harder at the sensitive bud, all while scissoring his fingers deep inside of you as if mapping you out.

for when his dick goes inside you, of course.

“it’s t—too much,” you complain in a mewl, eyes blurry with forming tears, “satoru, please, please, ‘m so—”

“fuck, take it, gorgeous,” satoru gasps out against your pussy, lips drenched in your taste. “keep talking to me — shit, you’re tight — let it all out for me, okay?”

satoru’s mind had blanked out a long time ago. between the way your lips form his name in one strung out moan, and the way you taste sweeter than any candy he could’ve ever asked for, he’s starting to wonder if he’d died and gone to heaven.

your voice tangles with the filthy squelches that resound through the cramped space of your office, and he swears nothing could ever be better than this.

except for the way you sound saying his name while you cum.

“i’m— i’m—” you gasp, and satoru takes that as a sign to clamp his lips around your clit and suck, curling his fingers up against your g-spot until — “satoru!”

he’s never heard anything so perfect before. his gaze flicks upwards as you orgasm, watching the way your face scrunches up as your cunt tightens unbearably around every inch of his fingers. satoru’s transfixed by your stupid voice, something out of a porno curated by an angel, and if he’s hoping he’s ruined you with his fingers alone, you’ve ruined him with just the sound of your voice breaking.

your breaths are heavy as you come down from the high; soft and warm, sound waves radiating off of you like sunlight. satoru presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh, and you finally peer down at him.

“still mad at me?” the sorcerer grins.

your eyes narrow as soon as you’re back to life. “yes. yaga chewed me out for something that wasn’t even my fault, satoru.”

sa-to-ru. the white-haired man pauses against your inner thigh, raising an eyebrow up at you with something hungry in his eyes. because as soon as you say his name, he decides he’s not fucking done with you yet.

“i’m sorry, gorgeous,” satoru mumbles, giving you a faux-apologetic glance before mischievously pressing a kiss to your clit, watching how your eyes widen. “i guess I’ll just keep going until you forgive me.”

“w—wait!”

satoru gojo really likes the way you say his name.

and he’ll keep making you say it until you know it too.

@ ttakdoll, 2026

“Sa…toru,” you slurred, eyes hazy and sparkling with tears—not from your heart getting broken, but rather from how fucking deep his cock was inside you, kissing your cervix affectionately with every thrust.  It brought an undeniably deep satisfaction at the sight. “I-It’s too much…”

Satoru instantly moaned at your whine, ducking in to let you burrow your face into the crook of his neck, as he pressed his nose against your head, smelling your shampoo and the faint smell of sweat that formed on your skin from how long he's been fucking you. His large hand wrapped around your head tightly, the other on your hip, keeping you there as he kept snapping his hips to search for your hot, sopping, messy cunt.

This was real.

This was fucking real. Shit, shit, shit—

“Fuck, princess… stop clenching so tight. Feels too”—he gasped, eyes turning wide as you tightened around him impossibly more that made him roll his eyes back—“good…”

This was the third—no, maybe fourth—time he brought you to his dorm room to fuck you mindlessly to drive Suguru out of your pretty mind. This was the third time inviting you to his bed, next to Suguru’s dorm, to comfort you as he went off to another hotel with no doubt another slightly older woman in his arms.

The other one time was when you invited him over to your dorm, and the memory of your bashfully lowered eyes and soft voice as you tenderly led him to your room was enough to prompt him another pathetic whine as he thrusted so roughly into you that made you see stars.

So yes, this was the fourth time that you were in his arms to have his cock deeply nestled inside, wrapped by your heavenly walls, and the third time he was able to make his girl come tonight. He silently thinks in his pussy-drunk mind, that no matter how many times the two of you fuck—make love—he would forever be questioning whether this was real, if you were real because no way does he have his dream girl in his arms right now, letting him fuck you to an oblivion.

And some sick part of him liked to imagine that you were still in love with Suguru. The thrill of knowing that he was fucking you, making you feel so good that you couldn’t help but think of him as you stared at his blue eyes instead of a pair of purple ones. But by the looks of the way your brain was fucked dumb, your lips only dribbling his name repeatedly, was an enough of an indicator that you weren’t thinking of Suguru anymore.

“Satoruuuu!!!” you screamed as you came undone, muffled against his neck. That effectively brought him back from his pussy-drunk reverie as he grinned down at you.

“Sorry, baby…”

He pulled out with a gasp, pulling off the condom with a snap as he stroked around his cock. You were about to whine when another moan slipped out of you when his thick, long fingers curled inside of you, his thumb rubbing quick, tight circles around your clit to prolong your pleasure.

“I’m going to c-come.” He swallowed. “Can I come on your face? Please, baby? You’ll look so fucking pretty with my cum.”

You nodded eagerly, managing a faint reassuring smile that twisted at his heart painfully with affection as he cupped your face and kissed you senseless, thumb caressing your cheek as the other hand continued to stroke his cock to prompt his impending release. His lips gently suckled on your tongue while giggling deliriously with pathetic whines, prompting you to clench tightly around his fingers.

“Satoru!”

And that was it—thick, white spurts of cum splattered across your face, making you gasp at the sticky sensation on your skin. Satoru grinned at the sight, cooing softly yet his fingers harshly fucked you dumb, the quelching sounds incredibly filthy that almost made his cock hard instantly.

As you came your nth time of the night and breathed heavily from your climax, your eyes widened at the sight of him ripping another condom, and rolled it on his pretty cock.

Satoru chuckled at your surprised face, leaning in to press a quick kiss on your lips before pulling back, grinning at you fervently.

“Don’t think we’re over just yet, sweetheart.”

The next morning, when you came out wearing Satoru’s overly large t-shirt with heated cheeks and a horrifying amount of hickies across your neck and collarbone, and a Satoru that had his lips curled into a dopey grin at your side, with a nervous Suguru that was rubbing his neck awkwardly by his door… you only could hide behind Satoru, hands gripping the back of his shirt, and a cheek pressed against his broad back, as the white-haired boy laughed full of satisfaction and fucked up elation.

“Um… fun night?” Suguru asked, his smile uncharacteristically awkward as he looked at Satoru and glanced at you curiously.

“Yeah, too much fun,” Satoru said with a grin, laughing when you scrunched his shirt up more, nails digging into his back like last night to shut him up—fuck, he was going to get hard from just that. “How was your night, Suguru?”

Maybe it was cruel to ask that when he didn’t really know if you still liked Suguru or not, but his cocky ass just couldn’t help but ask, knowing that he fucked your mind out last night, and he that he can and would continue to do it for the rest of his life, because that means that you would only think about him at that precious moment.

“Uh… yeah… I guess,” Suguru murmured as an answer, his eyes still glued to you. Since when did you look so cute? Suguru could acknowledge that he was acting like an asshole right now, knowing that he was starting to have interest in you after Satoru has swept you off of your feet and dicked you down a little too good.

Satoru’s eyes narrowed as he stepped a little to the side to hide you completely, holding the door. “Anyways, we’re going to have amazing morning sex from now, so go fuck yourself.”

Satoru grinned when he heard you let out a loud gasp at his words as he slammed the door right in front of Suguru’s face, before spinning around to face you.

Cradling your face in his large hands, he kissed you senseless as he pushed you towards the bed, tongue lolling out with yours as he lapped at yours like a pathetic mutt. His cock twitched at the sound of your surprised giggles, and he couldn't help but let out an unabashed moan.

Breakfast could wait for a little while…

so signs certainly weren’t pointing in his direction. in fact, the bet was so unfavorable to him that you could barely believe he’d been the one to make it. 

“if you can make me cum before i beat a level, i’ll do the dishes all month,” he’d said some twenty minutes earlier, apropos of literally nothing, turning over his shoulder from where he sat at the foot of the bed.

now, though, he was singing a different tune. he had one hand fisted in your hair, one gripping the controller equally as tight. the game’s background music and soundtrack were interspersed by peter’s choked little grunts and gasps. “mm,” he grit out. “hah. this is—fuck—really easy, baby, you should—ah!”

you hummed around him, giving his ass a squeeze. his legs closed around your head, thighs pressing you even further down on his cock. your eyelashes caught in his pubic hair when they fluttered closed. you gagged intentionally and drew back, spitting the accumulated saliva onto his dick before resuming your task with exponential vigor. you didn’t want to wash the fucking dishes.

he shuddered and cleared his throat, muttering something about ‘sniping the fucking guy,’ even as his grip on your hair tightened and his hips jerked forward slightly, clearly resisting the urge to drop the controller and fuck into your mouth. he wasn’t slick. 

on your next pullback, you glanced up at him through your lashes. his face was flushed, his jaw set, his eyes locked on the screen in front of him. “easy?” you taunted, not giving any time to respond before diving back in. 

“yeah. shit, this is…fucking easy, m’ clearing them all out…” he said, voice shaking. his hips jittered again and you felt the muscles in his thighs contract. “are you even doing anyth—ohholyfuckbabe—”

you grin, laving your tongue up the length of him and then sucking hard. behind you, the controller clatters to the hardwood floor and another hand grips your hair. fuck yeah. winner.

his quips quickly dissolve into nonsensical gasps as he hooks his legs over your shoulders and begins face-fucking you in earnest. if not for his heavy thighs keeping you in place, you’d be multiple feet across the room, probably embedded in the screen now displaying red GAME OVER text. what can you say? peter’s got one hell of a thrust.

his cock fills your mouth, warm and a little salty; mostly just tasting like skin and peter. it’s heavy on your tongue, but you can breathe ever-so-slightly easier when he cums, spilling down your throat. dutifully, you swallow, mostly because you don’t feel like dealing with the mess that’d happen if you didn’t, then sit back on your knees and rest your head against his thigh. 

his grip on your hair eases and his posture goes lax as his breathing evens out. he glances down at you, hazy-eyed and pink-cheeked, looking a little sheepish. one of his hands pets your hair, the other moving to the back of his neck where he rubs nervously. “...best out of three?”

tags: @bohnerrific69 @mysticsandmagic05 @xrag-dollx @posiebb  @star-rey-night @ethereallmonkey

from an idea bestowed upon me by @zoebensonsitonmyface many moons ago. thank you hannah 💞 yippee

guysss do you like my title

spiritual sucessor to ready, set, go!

if you’re going out to eat? satoru refuses to sit opposite you at the booth unless he absolutely has to. even when you reluctantly scoot up and make space, sitting at the far end by the window, he shuffles his ass right up next to you, insisting he needs warmth.

you loved your boyfriend, and you’d probably find it cute if he wasn’t doing this every day. you found it ironic how someone so clingy was gifted the ability of Infinity to keep his distance.

had you been granted the ability, you’d use it now, while he’s fondling your ass like the dirty little lecher he is.

“‘toru, that hurts!” you snap.

he looks down at you, eyes softening. “just wanna touch you…you’re my hyper-fixation.” his fingers clench around the thin cotton of your shirt hem, shoulders dropping a fraction.

you let out a sigh. satoru’s puppy face would always win, and you were dumb for thinking otherwise. seriously, what was all that studying for, if you couldn’t use your brain and help him out?

his frown is a little too quick to turn upside down, grinning victoriously as he watches you pack away your books. “fuckin’ finally.”

you roll your eyes, slow. “you weren’t this clingy before.”

“that’s because I was masking.”

“…you’re just lucky i don’t keep up with all these terms.”

ang god does he know it. it’s why he keeps getting away with this.

his hands move from your ass. his fingers interlock with yours in front of you, thumbs tracing the backs of yours assertively. there’s nowhere to go now, not with his tall broad frame trapping you between him and your desk.

“see, that’s the best part…you don’t need to. you don’t need to know anything.” there’s the smallest of smiles playing on his lips, but he’s successfully distracted you from feeling pissy about it.

he takes a step closer, and hand coming up to lift your chin.

“you just need me, same way I need you.”

another step.

“and right now…my needs are extra…special.”

the absurdness of his words cut through any lingering annoyance you have left as he stands before you, lips betraying a smile. “i hate you.”

seeing you now drives him insane.

you’re in his kitchen again, helping his mom with groceries like you always do. satoru leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you laugh at something his mother says. you’re wearing shorts that hug your thighs and a loose top that slips off one shoulder. he wants to rail you so badly it hurts. wants to push you against the counter, shove those shorts down, and fuck you until you finally see him as a man.

“hey,” he says, voice low and smooth as he walks in. he’s learned how to turn on the charm. “you look good today. new shorts?”

you glance down, then smile like he’s still ten years old. “these old things? thanks, satoru. you’re sweet.”

sweet. the word burns.

he steps closer, towering over you now. “i’m not a kid anymore, you know.”

you laugh softly, patting his arm like you used to when he threw tantrums. “of course you’re not. you’re all grown up. my little troublemaker became a heartthrob, huh?”

satoru’s jaw tightens. he wants to grab you, pin you to the wall, and show you exactly how grown up he is. instead he flashes that signature gojo grin, leaning in so his breath brushes your ear.

“you should let me take you out sometime. dinner. drinks. whatever you want.”

you blink, tilting your head with that innocent confusion that drives him crazy. “aww, that’s so nice of you! are you practicing your lines for the girls at school? you’re gonna break so many hearts.”

he nearly groans. “i’m not practicing. i mean it. i want to take you out. just us.”

you wave him off with a smile, completely missing the heat in his eyes. “you’re adorable. but i’m way too old for you, satoru. focus on college girls your age.”

adorable.

the word makes something snap inside him. he’s imagined you on your knees, lips wrapped around his cock. imagined folding you in half and pounding you until you scream his name. imagined filling you up while you moan about how big he is.

and you still call him adorable.

he steps even closer, backing you against the counter. his height makes it impossible for you to ignore how much he’s grown. “i’m not a little kid anymore,” he says, voice dropping. “i know what i want. and i want you.”

you laugh again, reaching up to ruffle his hair like you did when he was eight. “you’re so funny. always teasing your old babysitter.”

satoru catches your wrist gently but firmly, holding it against his chest so you can feel how fast his heart is racing. his blue eyes burn into yours.

“i’m not teasing.”

for a second you pause. but then you smile again. “you’ll find a nice girl soon. i promise.”

he lets you go, watching you walk away to help his mom again. his cock is half-hard in his pants just from being close to you. the frustration is driving him insane.

every time you treat him like the child he used to be, it only makes him want to ruin you more. to prove how much of a man he is by fucking you so deep you forget you ever saw him as anything but yours.

satoru leans against the counter, eyes dark and hungry as he watches you move around the kitchen. he stays there until he can’t take it anymore, then pushes off the counter and heads upstairs to his room without a word.

the second his door clicks shut, he’s already palming himself through his pants. he frees his aching cock and starts stroking, hoping that you’ll take the garden path home like you usually do so you’ll walk right past his window and hear the wet sound of his hand pumping his cock and the moans he doesn’t even try to hide because he wants you to know. he wants you to hear exactly what you do to him.

a few days later, satoru comes back from a late training session when he cuts through the side yard like he always does. your bedroom curtain is pulled mostly closed, but there’s a gap—just enough, and he stops dead. through the narrow opening he sees you.

you’re on top, completely naked, riding your stupid boyfriend with slow rolls of your hips. your head is tilted back, lips parted, hands braced on his chest. the moonlight catches the curve of your breasts, the way they bounce every time you sink down. your boyfriend’s hands are on your waist, guiding you, but his thrusts look lazy.

satoru’s mouth goes dry.

he should look away. he knows he should. but he can’t. his cock hardens instantly, straining against his pants as he watches you move. you look so pretty like this—flushed, glowing, lost in pleasure. but something ugly twists in his chest because it’s not him underneath you. he wants to be him so fucking bad.

before he can think, satoru slips behind the bushes, hidden in the shadows. his hand shoves into his pants, wrapping around his aching cock. he strokes himself in time with your movements, eyes locked on the way your body rises and falls. every soft moan that drifts through the cracked window makes him leak.

“fuck… you should be riding me,” he whispers. his fist moves faster, thumb swiping over the head as he imagines it’s your tight, wet heat instead. he pictures grabbing your hips, slamming you down on his much bigger cock, making you scream his name instead of whatever soft sounds you’re making now.

he cums hard, biting his lip to stay quiet, painting his hand while watching you chase your own pleasure. the sight of you cumming—back arching, mouth open in a silent cry—pushes him over the edge again. he milks himself through it, thick, messy spurts flooding into his boxers and soaking through his pants. after the orgasm fades and reality came back he stares down at the dark wet patch on the front of his sweatpants.

later that night he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, still half-hard while his damp pants he cleaned in a hurry so his mom wouldn’t notice, dry on the back of his chair in his room. that loser didn’t even make you cum properly. satoru could tell.

your moans were pretty, but not desperate enough. your body moved like you were doing most of the work. he knows he would be so much better for you. he would flip you over, pin you down, and fuck you so deep and so good you’d forget any other man existed. he’d make you cum until you cried, until your legs shook, until you begged him to fill you up. he’d treat you like the goddess you are instead of some half-assed ride.

the jealousy burns hotter than the lust now. you still see him as the little kid you babysat. you have a boyfriend who can’t even make you cum right, and you smile at satoru like he’s harmless.

it makes him insane.

the next afternoon he sees you working in the garden.

you’re kneeling in the flowerbed next door, wearing those same old shorts that ride up your thighs and a loose tank top, hair tied back messily as you dig around the roses. the sun makes your skin glow. satoru leans against the wooden fence that separates your yards, arms crossed over his chest, watching you in silence for a long moment. his eyes trace the curve of your back, the way your shorts cling when you shift, the soft bounce of your breasts every time you reach forward.

his cock twitches at the memory of last night—you riding that loser, the way your body moved, the sounds you made. he still feels a little ashamed about cumming in his pants like a desperate pervert, but the hunger is stronger.

finally he speaks, voice casual but laced with something darker.

“had a good night?”

you look up, brushing dirt off your hands, and give him that same bright, innocent smile you always do. “oh, hey satoru. yeah, it was alright. why do you ask?”

he shrugs, but his blue eyes are intense behind his sunglasses. “just curious. you seemed… busy.”

you laugh softly, standing up and stretching. the hem of your tank top rides up, showing a sliver of skin, and satoru’s gaze drops there instantly.

“nothing special,” you say. “just hung out with my boyfriend. watched a movie, you know how it is.”

satoru’s jaw tightens. he wants to tell you that “hung out” clearly wasn’t enough if you weren’t even satisfied. instead he flashes his usual grin and leans further over the fence.

“movie, huh? sounds boring. you deserve better than boring.”

you tilt your head, amused. “are you offering to entertain me now, little satoru?”

there it is again. little satoru.

the nickname stings worse than usual after what he saw last night. he wants to vault over the fence, push you down into the dirt, and fuck you right there in the garden until you scream his name instead of calling him little anything.

“i could entertain you way better than a movie,” he says. “just say the word.”

you chuckle and wave him off, going back to your flowers like he’s still the kid you used to babysit. “you’re such a flirt these days. go find a girl your own age.”

satoru stays leaning against the fence, watching you work, heart pounding and cock half-hard again. the frustration coils tighter in his chest. one day you’ll stop seeing him as the little boy next door. one day he’ll make you see exactly how much he’s grown—preferably while he’s buried nine inches deep inside you.

as you lean down deeper to reach a stubborn weed, your loose tank top slips forward. satoru catches a clear view of your tits—soft, full, and perfect, nipples just barely hidden by the thin fabric. the sight hits him like a punch to the gut.

his cock instantly swells, painfully hard again in seconds.

he can’t tear his eyes away. he imagines pulling your top down completely, watching those pretty tits spill out into his hands. he wants to grope them, squeeze them, bury his face between them while he fucks you. he wants to suck on your nipples until they’re swollen and sensitive, until you’re whimpering and arching into his mouth.

the urge to take a picture is so strong it almost hurts. he wants to save this view forever—the way your tits hang and sway as you work, the soft curve of them, the way they move when you shift. his fingers twitch at his side, desperate to grab his phone, but he forces himself to stay still.

he can’t. not without risking everything.

instead, he just stares, breathing hard through his nose, cock throbbing angrily in his pants as fantasies flood his mind. he wants to cover them in his cum. he wants to watch them bounce while you ride him. he wants to mark them as his.

he can’t take it anymore. muttering a quick excuse, he turns and practically runs inside his house. he doesn’t even make it up the stairs to his bedroom this time. the second he’s inside the downstairs bathroom, he locks the door, yanks his pants down, and wraps his hand around his throbbing cock.

he strokes himself furiously, leaning against the sink, replaying the image of your tits spilling out of your top and the memory of you riding your boyfriend. it only takes him a minute before he cums hard again, biting his arm to stay quiet as thick ropes paint the sink.

panting, flushed, and still half-hard, satoru stares at his reflection. he knows he’s completely fucked. but he also knows he won’t stop until you finally see him the way he sees you. lucky him, it didn’t take long for the next opportunity to arise.

the next time you come over, it’s to help with groceries like always.

satoru’s mom is out running errands, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. you’re putting things away, humming softly, completely unaware of the way satoru is watching you. he’s done playing nice. the images from the garden and that night through the window have been burning in his brain for days. he’s tired of being “cute little satoru.”

you reach for the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes, trying to slide a heavy bag of rice into place and your shorts pull tight across your ass.

“here, let me help,” satoru says.

he steps right behind you before you can protest. his tall frame cages you against the counter, one arm reaching easily over your head to push the bag into place. but he doesn’t step back. instead, he presses forward, letting you feel every inch of his hard cock against your ass through his sweatpants.

you freeze. “satoru…?”

he doesn’t move away. if anything, he presses closer, rolling his hips just enough for you to feel how thick and heavy he is. his breath is hot against your ear.

“you feel that?” he murmurs. “that’s what you do to me. every time i see you. every time you smile at me like i’m still that little kid.”

his hands slide down to grip your waist, holding you in place as he grinds slowly against you. the hard line of his cock nestles perfectly between your cheeks, and he lets out a shaky breath.

“i’m not a kid anymore,” he continues, lips brushing your ear. “i’ve been jerking off to you for months. thinking about bending you over this counter and fucking you. thinking about how much better i’d be than that useless boyfriend of yours.”

you try to turn around, but he keeps you pinned, chest pressed to your back.

“satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not joking.” his voice drops even lower, more aggressive. one hand slides up your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “i saw you riding him the other night. through your window. he couldn’t even make you cum properly, could he? i would. i’d fuck you so good.”

he rolls his hips again, letting you feel how hard he is, how big. his cock twitches against you, desperate and leaking.

“tell me to stop and i will,” he whispers, even as his grip tightens possessively. “but i think you feel it too. how much i want you. how much better i can make you feel.”

you’re breathing faster now, trapped between the counter and his tall, muscular body. satoru leans down, lips grazing your neck. “let me show you. just once. i’ll make you cum so many times you’ll be begging for more.”

you’re breathing faster now, trapped between the counter and his tall, muscular body. satoru doesn’t wait for a clear answer. he rolls his hips forward again, slower this time, deliberately dragging the thick ridge of his cock against your ass through your thin shorts.

a shaky breath escapes you and he feels it—the way your body tenses then softens just a little. encouraged, he does it again, pressing harder, grinding his clothed cock between your cheeks in slow rolls. the friction is maddening. even through two layers of fabric, you can feel how hot and heavy he is, how big.

“satoru…” your voice comes out breathless.

“shh,” he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing the sensitive skin. “just feel me.”

his hands tighten on your waist, holding you still as he starts dry humping you properly. long, deliberate thrusts that slide his hard length up and down between your ass cheeks. every roll makes your shorts ride up further, the fabric catching and pulling against your pussy. you can feel yourself getting wet, your body reacting even though your mind is still spinning.

satoru groans softly, forehead pressed to the back of your head. “fuck… you feel so good. been dreaming about this for so long.”

he picks up the pace a little, hips snapping forward with more urgency. the kitchen is quiet except for your shared heavy breathing and the faint rustle of clothes. you grip the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white, trying to steady yourself as heat pools low in your belly.

“you’re getting wet, aren’t you?” he whispers. one of his hands slides down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your shorts. “i can feel how warm you are. your body knows i’d be better.”

you bite your lip, a soft, involuntary whimper slipping out as he grinds particularly hard against you. the pressure on your clit through the fabric is driving you crazy. your breathing is turning faster, chest rising and falling quickly.

satoru notices immediately. a pleased sound rumbles in his chest.

“that’s it… getting breathless for me already?” he teases, but his voice is strained. he rolls his hips in a slow circle, pressing his cock right against your clothed entrance. “good girl. let me hear those pretty sounds.”

he keeps grinding harder, faster, like he’s trying to fuck you through your clothes. every thrust makes your tits bounce slightly and pulls another shaky breath from your lips. you’re starting to push back against him without thinking, chasing the friction.

satoru’s hand finally slips under your tank top, palm hot against your bare stomach.

“tell me to stop,” he rasps, lips against your neck, “or tell me to keep going. because if you don’t… i’m not gonna be able to hold back much longer.”

you’re panting now, head spinning, body burning under his aggressive touch. satoru keeps grinding against you like he’s possessed, cock throbbing against your ass, waiting for you to decide how far this is going to go.

“satoru… we can’t.” your fingers dig harder into the counter, knees feeling weak. “this is wrong… you’re—you’re basically still my—”

“we can,” he cuts you off. “we definitely can. and we’re going to.”

before you can protest again, his hand leaves your waist. you hear the metallic clink of his belt buckle, the sound of his zipper being dragged down. your heart hammers wildly as he frees his cock. it’s heavy and hot as it springs out, slapping against your ass cheek. he’s so hard it looks painful, the tip already leaking.

“feel what you do to me,” he murmurs, pressing the thick length against you again, this time with nothing but your thin shorts and panties between you.

his fingers hook into the side of your shorts and panties, tugging them just enough to the side. cool air hits your soaked pussy for a second before he slides his bare cock along your drenched folds. the hot, velvety length glides up and down your slick lips, parting them slightly with every slow stroke but never pushing inside.

you let out a broken whimper, forehead dropping against the cabinet door.

“fuck… you’re soaked,” satoru groans. he rocks his hips, sliding his cock repeatedly between your folds, coating himself in your wetness. the head catches on your clit with every pass, sending sparks shooting through you. “all this for me? and you still tried to say we can’t?”

he keeps the teasing motion going—long, deliberate slides from your entrance up to your clit and back down. every time the thick head nudges against your hole, you clench around nothing, aching to be filled. your breathing is ragged, little gasps and moans slipping out despite yourself.

satoru’s free hand comes back to your hip, holding you steady as he grinds his bare cock against your dripping pussy.

“see? we can. and it feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? just imagine how much better it’ll feel when i finally slide inside you.”

he presses forward a little harder, the head of his cock dipping just slightly against your entrance before sliding back up, teasing mercilessly. you’re trembling, breathless, torn between pushing him away and pushing back for more.

“tell me to stop… or tell me you want it. because i’m this close to bending you over and fucking you right here on the counter.”

finally, you break.

“…just the tip,” you whisper. “okay? just the tip, satoru. and don’t come inside me.”

the words barely leave your mouth before satoru groans like he’s been granted heaven. “fuck, yes. just the tip, baby. i promise.”

he lines himself up, the fat head of his cock pressing against your dripping entrance. he pushes forward slowly, and the stretch is immediate. only the tip slips inside you—just the swollen head breaching your tight walls. it’s enough to make both of you lose your minds.

“oh my god…” you gasp, fingers scrabbling against the counter. the feeling of him inside you, even just that little bit, is overwhelming. he’s so thick.

satoru’s forehead drops to your shoulder. “fuck… you’re so tight. so fucking warm. just the tip feels this good?”

he rocks his hips in tiny, shallow movements, fucking just the head in and out of you. every shallow thrust makes wet, obscene sounds echo in the quiet kitchen. he doesn’t push any deeper, but the way he’s teasing your entrance is driving you insane. the constant stretch and release has your walls fluttering around his tip, trying to pull him in further.

“satoru…” you whimper, pushing back against him despite yourself.

“i know, i know,” he pants. “just the tip. i’m being good. but fuck, baby… you’re sucking me in. your pussy wants more, doesn’t it?”

he keeps it like this—shallow little thrusts that only give you the head, never more. it’s torture. for both of you. satoru’s hands grip your hips so tightly you know you’ll have bruises. his breathing is harsh against your neck as he fights every instinct to slam all the way in.

“you feel so perfect,” he groans, circling his hips so the head rubs against that sensitive spot inside you. “i could cum just like this.”

you’re moaning softly now, completely breathless, knees shaking. the denial is making everything more intense. every shallow thrust sends sparks through your body, but it’s not enough. you need more, but you’re scared to ask.

satoru’s control is hanging by a thread. his cock twitches inside you, leaking precum, and he has to bite back a whine. then his hands slide up under your tank top, pushing it up until your breasts spill free. he immediately gropes them, one large hand squeezing and kneading your soft tits while his thumbs flick over your hardened nipples.

“mmh— satoru…” you moan, pushing back against him desperately.

he chuckles against your neck, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you gasp. “what’s wrong, baby? your loser boyfriend doesn’t play with these pretty tits like this? doesn’t know how sensitive you are here?” he rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging them while still fucking you with only the tip of his cock. every shallow thrust makes you clench greedily around his head, but it’s never enough.

“bet he doesn’t even make you wet like this,” satoru says, voice dripping with arrogance as he squeezes your breasts harder. “bet he fucks you like a pathetic little boy and still can’t make you cum. that’s why you’re dripping down my cock right now, isn’t it?”

you whimper helplessly, forehead pressed against the cabinet, hips trying to push back to take more of him. but satoru keeps perfect control—only giving you the tip, no matter how much you beg with your body.

“say it,” he murmurs, biting your shoulder lightly while still playing with your tits. “tell me his dick isn’t enough for you. tell me you need mine.”

he punctuates his words with another shallow thrust, the head of his cock catching perfectly against that spot right at your entrance. your moan comes out broken and needy.

“satoru… please—”

“please what? please fuck you properly? or please keep teasing this desperate little pussy until you’re crying for me?” then, just to torture you more, satoru pushes in a little deeper—only an extra inch, but it’s enough.

you cry out sharply, the sudden stretch pulling a broken, needy sound from your throat. your body reacts on instinct, pushing back against him desperately, trying to take more of his thick cock.

“greedy girl… you said just the tip, but look at you pushing back like you want me to ruin you.”

he gives you another shallow thrust, still not going all the way in, but deeper than before. you whimper pathetically, hips rocking back against him again, chasing the feeling. your pussy clenches hard around him, dripping down his length.

“fuck, you really want it, don’t you?” he laughs breathlessly against your ear “you want your former babysitting kid to fuck you stupid—”

the front door suddenly swings open.

“satoru? i’m back early—”

his mom’s voice cuts through the air like ice water.

you both freeze.

satoru reacts instantly, pulling out of you and yanking your tank top back down to cover your chest. he quickly tucks himself back into his pants, heart hammering. you’re still pressed against the counter, legs shaking, face burning with embarrassment as you try to fix your shorts.

his mom stands in the doorway only seconds later, holding grocery bags, blinking at the two of you.

satoru clears his throat, somehow managing to sound almost normal. “hey mom. we were just… putting the groceries away.”

you nod quickly, too mortified to speak, cheeks flaming red. your thighs are still trembling, pussy aching from being left empty and dripping.

his mom narrows her eyes slightly, suspicious. “hm. well, don’t make a mess in here.”

she sets the bags down and walks further into the kitchen, completely unaware of how close she came to catching her son balls-deep inside you.

satoru glances at you, eyes still dark. he leans in close while his mom’s back is turned, whispering hotly against your ear: “this isn’t over. next time i’m not stopping until you’re creaming all over my cock.”

you shiver, pressing your thighs together as you try to calm your racing heart.