☆Anew 24yr☆

Playing at being a serious girl, a smart girl, playing at being a person? That's hard. That's not you. It's not fair you have to. You shouldn't have to.

Relax, fall back into it. You don't need to do anything, you just need to stop. If you do, you'll sink down to where you're meant to be. Sink down and deep, sink back to dumb. Nice and safe. A giggling dummy with simple thoughts.

What you were meant to be, and how you should have stayed.

he gets off on corrupting you, teasing you and putting you in vulnerable positions you never thought you’d be in, then acting like it's your fault when you get needy and messy.

he'll hold both your wobbly legs out of the way with one large hand and bully his thick, throbbing dick inside your now transparent panties, slotting between your soft folds. he groans at the way your needy pussy lips wrap around him, enveloping his length in warm, sticky heat. your hole pulses around nothing, the pretty tears pooling in your eyes from need make his heart clench and cock kick against your puffy clit. his free hand pulls the straps of your camisole down, groping your supple breasts. you try, adorably, to buck your hips into him, mouth ajar while you beg for something you don't even understand. he’ll tsk meanly, feigning disappointment. tightens his grip and pins you down.

"don't be so greedy, häschen." voice low and condescending, makes your brain go fuzzy. "rubbing yourself on my dick like a dumb slut. beschämend. perhaps i’m spoiling you too much. should i stop?”

vigorously, you shake your head, holding onto his strong forearm to keep him close. you’re not sure why you can’t seem to stay still, let him take care of you. “‘m sorry, please.”

“sweet girls relax and take what’s given to them. i always know how to make you feel good, no?"

smut mdni

nobody would have guessed that the nerdy chess-playing, marvel-loving, compsci major would be a total fucking freak in bed.

tutoring sessions with gojo started out normal, in the library surrounded by students on a wednesday afternoon. he’d show up at 4 o'clock on the dot, glasses crooked, hair a mess, wearing the same jacket he wore everyday. after a few weeks you started studying in his dorm, saw his Marvel comic books, his Star Wars Legos, he even let you look at his science fair photos from middle school.

but then you accidently found the handcuffs he kept hidden while looking for snacks. you made a joke about it, but he was looking you dead in the eyes, his expression as serious as ever.

"do you wanna try them?"

so, instead of homework, snacking, and getting distracted by reels, he has you trying to ride him with your hands cuffed in front of you.

“hah okay, next question. what’s the empirical probability of you creaming all over my dick in the next 30 seconds?”

“huh wha- fuck-!” you cry out when you feel two fingers pinch your clit hard, tears threatening to fall again. gojo is full-blown cackling at you, “aww poor girl. did that hurt?”

“it too much toru! i can’t-” smack!

gojos hand cracked against your ass, making you yelp. his palm rubbed over the spot soothingly, easing the sting a bit, voice low and commanding, “yes, you can, and you will, unless you want to stay like this all night, not moving at all.”

you whine, but you’re already lifting your hips as best you can and sliding back down his cock. gojo lets out a groan, “atta girl, just like that baby.”

you really tried to keep going, and you did for a few minutes until your legs got tired of doing all the work. not having your arms fully mobile for leverage was really a problem.

“satoru,” you whine, barely moving up anymore, “‘s too hard.”

he huffs, a fake pout on his lips, “why can’t you just do what i tell you to baby? thought you wanted to be a good girl for me?”

you frown, “‘m trying…” you mumble.

“you’re trying, huh?” he shakes his head, “thought you’d do better than that. oh well, i suppose it’s not your fault you're so helpless.”

he watched as your frown deepened, eyes squinting as tears threatened to fall. “what? gonna cry?” he taunts, grinning. you shake your head, he just smiles wider, “shame, i love it when you cry for me.”

that was the last sentence you were able to process, because gojo had you on your back with your knees up to your chest in 5 seconds, folded into the meanest mating press and not wasting any time before pounding into you roughly. he's fucking you stupid. his hand comes around your neck, squeezing so hard you swear you blacked out for a split second. every thrust killing any semi-coherent thought you form.

your orgasm hit so hard and fast your whole body went limp for a minute. but that didn’t stop gojo. he didn’t even slow down a little bit.

“thats right, take it. just a pretty little doll who likes getting used. its all you’re good for, right baby?” you let out a choked cry, tears falling down your cheeks as you nod weakly. his head dips down, nose brushing your cheek as he licked the tears, tongue warm on your skin.

“tsk, dumb slut. too cock drunk to speak,” he pants against you. “say it, say you’re nothing but a dumb slut.”

you whimper, shaking your head. his hand leaves your neck and grips your face, driving into you harder. “fucking say it.”

you choke on a sob, whimpering again, “‘m a dumb slut…”

“good girl. just a stupid girl who likes being fucked like this, right?” you nod, and he releases your face with a light slap on the cheek. “good fuckin’ toy.”

he pulls out suddenly, flips you on your stomach and yanks your hips up. he smacks your ass a few times on each cheek, hard enough to burn and slams back into you from behind. he’s so mean, but how could he not be when you feel this good. and all you can really do is sob and whine into the sheets while your poor cunt continues being abused like you're a fleshlight.

“fu- fuuuck, take it sweetheart...haahh take this dick like your pussy was made for it...ohh my goddd…” he moans behind you, leaning down and slotting his surprisingly beefy arm under your jaw, trapping you even more than you already were. he speeds up, if possible, rhythm falttering more and more until he’s just grinding into you, hot cum flooding your cunt while he moans in your ear, “gotta- shit...gotta make sure it stays inside.”

it only takes a minute and a half for his energy to return, his pelvis hitting your ass with each thrust, pushing your hips down every time till you're flat on your stomach. now you’re really stuck.

choso’s got you flat on your stomach across his narrow dorm bed, mattress dipping under both your weights. he’s draped over you completely, heavy and hot, chest pressed to your back so tight you can feel every shaky breath he takes against the nape of your neck. his knees bracket your thighs, forcing your legs together just enough that the friction’s obscene when he rolls his hips.

no preamble. no clothes coming off. just the rough drag of his sweatpants against your thin sleep shorts, the thick length of him already rock-hard and leaking through the fabric. he’s so heavy on top of you that every shallow thrust pins you deeper into the sheets. your face is half-buried in his pillow—smells like his shampoo and faint sweat—and you can’t do anything but arch your back a little, offering more of yourself even though he’s already got you trapped.

“fuck,” he breathes right in your ear, voice wrecked and too loud in the quiet room. his glasses are fogging up again, sliding down his nose. he doesn’t bother fixing them. just grinds harder, hips circling slow then snapping forward like he can’t decide how desperate he wants to be.

the seam of your shorts rides up between your folds with every forward roll. catches right on your clit and stays there, rubbing mercilessly while his cock slides along the cleft of your ass, hot and insistent. you can feel how much he’s dripping—warm wet spots blooming through his sweats, soaking into yours until everything’s slick and clinging.

he shifts his weight, plants one forearm beside your head so he can brace himself and really lean in. the new angle makes him drag slower, deeper, the blunt head of him nudging right where your shorts are thinnest, right over your entrance like he’s trying to push inside through the layers. you whimper into the pillow. thighs tremble. can’t spread them because he’s got you pinned so tight.

“stay like that,” he mutters, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “just—fuck—just let me feel you.” his free hand slides under your stomach, palm flat against your lower belly so he can pull you back into every grind. fingers splay wide, possessive, like he’s trying to feel himself moving inside you even though there’s still fabric in the way.

the rhythm turns filthy. short, sharp rocks that make the bedframe knock softly against the wall. wet sounds every time he drags back, the soaked cotton sticking and pulling. your clit’s throbbing, swollen from the constant pressure, and every time he rolls his hips just right you clench around nothing, hips jerking under him.

he’s panting now, open-mouthed against your shoulder. little broken moans slipping out whenever you push back to meet him. “so fucking soft,” he groans. “can feel how wet you are through everything. gonna—shit—gonna come all over these shorts if you keep squeezing like that.”

you do it again. clench hard. arch just enough to press your ass firmer against him. he chokes on a sound, hips stuttering, then slams forward one last time—grinding so deep the friction burns in the best way.

he comes with a long, shuddering moan muffled into your neck. hot pulses soak through his sweats, seep into yours, warm and sticky between you. he keeps rocking through it, shallow little jerks, smearing it everywhere while his whole body shakes on top of you.

doesn’t pull away even after. just stays draped over your back, breathing hard, cock still twitching against your ass. hand still splayed on your stomach like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“don’t move yet,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “wanna feel it cool down between us.”

that art for the twins, ahhh! had to do a smutty lil drabble for them, but with a lil twist hehe <3 part two here>>>

You would think out of the two Gojo twins - that Frat Gojo would be the bigger freak, right? Much more obscene than his twin Nerd Satoru!

But... you'd be completely and utterly wrong.

Frat Gojo may love to fuck your throat, but he's just not as big of a freak as his twin - it's glaringly apparent when Nerd Satoru has you crying from overstim, tied up in pretty pink rope he'd ordered just for you. You're bound in the tightest knots there are, vibrator right on your clit as he grins, licking his lips.

Innocent and cute nerd Satoru your ass - he's a sadistic little freak in fact, you've squirted so much you're goddamn dehydrated, at his mercy as he fucks into you with his long fingers. Here's the thing, Nerd Satoru is waiting for the right moment to actually fuck you, so he does anything and everything depraved in the meantime.

"S-Satoru - too much!" You're begging now, thighs trembling, looking at him with his blue eyes gone black behind his glasses. "Put it in, f-fuck..."

"Not yet my sweet angel, my beautiful goddess, hah," he's pushing up his glasses at the bridge of his nose, a white flash of teeth as he strokes his lengthy cock in front of you. "Not yet, love of my life."

He talks all cute like he hasn't made you almost faint three times!

When Frat Gojo finds you a trembling mess with your arousal sticking to your thighs in messy, filthy little trails, Nerd Satoru is cumming for the nth time, your tears just really fucking make him cum. Frat Gojo is in fact the one that rubs those marks from your skin, the indentations from the rope, all before he bends you over the bed.

"Arch f'me sweets," he's caring even when he shoves his cock deep inside you soppy cunt, you cum so quickly you see stars, lost in the overstim his brother gave you. "That's it, slutty little cunt, she loves to take me, huh?"

"Y-yes, mnh!" You're getting your head pressed into Nerd Gojo's mattress as his brother fucks you into it, in that way Frat Gojo absolutely had no problem fucking you into submission. Ever so generously teaching' Nerd Satoru how to really fuck, the little nerd is taking notes even as he listens to the squelching of your hole.

"That's how you fuck, as if I'll let you," Frat Gojo's cock slams so hard into your cervix you whine out, clinging to the blankets before he takes your hands and pins them behind your back. "Gonna squirt like a messy little slut on my cock, huh? Milk me for all that cum in your hole?"

Frat Gojo could certainly dirty talk better, the way he pounded your cunt until you drooled was unmatched, but Nerd Satoru was indeed taking notes. His notes were a little different - cameras in your room, jerking it as he studied every moan and whine you made when you were all alone, biding his time.

Frat Gojo spits on your cunt before he fucks you, Nerd Satoru loved to eat your pussy out until you couldn't take it. Every drag of his long tongue deliberate, studied, different than how Frat Gojo buried his face and devoured you. Even when you begged for him inside, he'd rut the bed and moan about your taste, slurping every drop up as he leaks white along his sheets.

But don't worry, Frat Gojo gives you what you need, every time Nerd Satoru is edging his pretty girlfriend, he makes sure to pump you full of his cum, even with his twin moving you up and down his cock when you're simply too tired to move. You kiss Nerd Satoru as you ride his brother until he cums, wondering just when this little freak will finally give it to you </3

****

( mdni. cw: oral (f.rec), fingering, degradation/praise, spanking, creampie )

repost !!

it started innocently enough. laundry day. leggings inside out, hoodie that smelled like him, bra tangled in a mess of your bedsheets— all of it thrown into the gaping mouth of your apartment’s shitty front-load washer.

but the problem began when you dropped your lip gloss.

the fenty heat you’d just bought. it fell behind the drum, somehow, and for some unholy reason, you thought i can totally reach that.

so now?

“gojo,” you hiss through clenched teeth, ass up, arms wedged deep inside the washer’s metal cylinder, “i’m fucking stuck.”

no response. of course not. he’s probably on the couch eating pocky and watching reruns of his favorite shows again.

“satoru!”

“what?” he calls from down the hall, lazy and muffled. “i didn’t leave the stove on this time if that’s what you’re yelling about.”

“i’m stuck in the washing machine, you idiot! get in here!”

You try— you try— to mumble that you're not like this, that you don't make it a habit to let men follow you home from bars, don't let them fuck just because they pulled a drunk off your arm, but it only comes out wet and incoherent, smeared into the calluses on his palm.

Simon's watching your sweet pussy fuck right open, eyes sharp even through the mess of sweat on his brow, fixed on the way you stretch and drag around his cock, clinging to him every time he pulls out just to drive back in harder, deeper.

It's then that he hears the muffled garble, feels your jaw working against his hand and leans close, his breath fanning hot over the crown of your head. "Whas'at, sweet'eart? Tryn' to tell me somethin'?"

But he doesn't let you speak, not after feeling the first flutter of your pussy, the warning tremor that tells him you're close. Whatever he keeps forcing back down your throat can wait— That's it, right there, let it fuckin' take ya— and you can feel teeth scraping your skin as he presses down, caging you in.

It's only after your orgasm rips through you like wildfire, clutching his cock so fucking sweet, until you've come twice? thrice? that he peels his hand away, leaving your mouth damp with spit where you gasped into his palm, and grips your jaw, forcing your head back towards his chest. "Atta doll. Took me right through it. Go on, now. Say what you were tryin' so hard to get out."

"Mmm—I'm not— I don't— don't usually do this. I'm—"

Simon rolls his hips, and a half-sob half-plea tears from your throat. "No?" His voice is rough, thick with condescension, the rumble vibrating through his chest and into your spine. "'s that why you're trippin' over your pretty little shoes to fuck back on it?"

He can feel the way you’re tightening, see the glossy slick dampening the hair at the base of his cock and running down his thighs. Simon drags you tighter against him, making sure you feel every single inch of him even as your words splutter and break.

dan pulling us all in line with one gesture like a gentle but firm parent