Chapter Text
It was utterly filthy, the way he was ramming into you. Sloppy, uncalculated thrusts filled up your gushing hole over and over and over. Loud moans and grunts that you didn’t think could ever come from a human escaped your mouth, animalistic ‘hnnnghs’ that rang out into the dark room.
Gojo was directly behind you, forcing your knees flexibly apart. His giant cock was penetrating your cervix, only amplified by the speed of his strokes. His tip was gorged red, slicked by the juices excreted by the gorged hole he was relentlessly pounding into. He made you shake, twitching and convulsing. The way you two fucked was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, and the viewers loved it. The loud borderline-screams you let out weren’t forced or fake— Gojo was just good at having sex.
He laughed, occassionally would let out loud groans as he grabbed and fondled your ass, tits, nape, pulling your hair back and, just out of frame, spitting in your mouth or filthily sticking his tongue halfway down your throat in a power play that made your knees threaten to give out.
Right now, though, his thumb was in your mouth, sloppily tracing around your swollen lips and tracking spit down your chin. You were almost drooling, eyes rolled back. A cockdrunk smile was plastered on your face. You were sweaty, hair haphazardly sticking to your glistening forehead; but, all you could feel was Gojo’s giant hands on your hips as he nailed you over and over again, displacing you and making the bed shake.
The screen of the laptop was moving back and forth, and you admired the scene you two painted on the webcam; he was out of frame, only his torso and below showed. You were the forefront of the camera, your open mouth and glistening expressions signifying the absolute wave of ecstasy you were riding.
Being used like this might be the most blissful you would ever feel.
You fucking loved it.
Gojo pushed a hand on your lower back, forcing you to arch more towards the plush mattress currently being soaked with the fluids of you both. It was only the first (and probably only) round, but the bed was damp with precum, spit, and lubrication. Your back ached numbly, but it also caused Gojo to hit a spot with his massive cock so deep, a guttural, filthy, and loud groan escaped your lips. Gojo just laughed cockily and pushed your head down into the mattress, too.
“Fuck,” he breathily laughed. “We look good like this, right, hon?” He smacked your ass painfully, gripping it as you moaned more into the sheets. “Yeah— fuckin’ like that, when I use that dirty cunt?”
You only let out a pained-sounding small moan that stringed out into the air.
He laughed again, reeling in this sadism. “Come on, use those words, ya fucking whore.” He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head up. “Look into the fucking camera and say you love when I bully that stretched pussy of yours.”
You oblige, internally in heaven. It was almost impossible to get the words out. “I… lov’it when you… u-use my fuckin’ pussy…” He hit that spot again that made you scream. “Yes! Yes, yeah, hnngh… right there!”
He covered your mouth with his large palm, circling his cheek with your thumb. “Shhh… now, now… can’t be having the neighbors hearing us, huh, doll?”
The dorm’s walls were quite thin. Everybody in your hall probably knew what was going on.
This happened multiple times a week, though— cam work could be a loud business.
Plus, you kind of liked the feeling of this exhibitionism, getting yourself ruined while everybody knows what’s going on.
You were practically made for this shit.
You smiled against Gojo’s hand as he made his last, especially sloppy, slow, and deep thrusts and came with an extremely loud groan— so much for being quiet, huh?
You followed soon after, pussy clenching and gushing out the contents of it’s aftermath. You collapsed, forehead knocking the keyboard and hair covering the webcam. After a few seconds, you looked up back at the screen.
Your makeup was ruined, eyeliner smudged in watery streaks down your face. Any lip gloss you had applied had been removed from the number of the things you and Gojo had done in foreplay. And your hair was a tangled mess from his fists and the humid air of sex radiating from the room.
You felt so sore and sensitive, and you yelped when Gojo landed a slap on your pussy that made you whip around, mouth agape. He laid on the bed next to you with a sigh, still out of frame. “Good?”
You nodded, grinning, and turned back to check the chat.
Plenty of donations, lots of fans, lots of requests to chat, et cetera, et cetera.
”Fuck yeah! Pretty girl!” - @anonymoususer
”Rail her like dat lollll” - @gavingavin24
Overall, a pretty good session. Especially for a weekday night. You waved at the screen in exhaustion, muttering a half-assed goodbye before you ended the stream and slid the laptop to the foot of the bed. Your head fell onto the mattress, about to fall asleep.
Gojo and you had been doing this for a couple months now. You weren’t dating or anything— I mean, you had tried to, but you both weren’t the type for commitment like that.
It was kind of nice, almost a friends-with-benefits thing, where you mutually agreed to go hang out sometimes, go on hangouts that suspiciously looked like dates sometimes, and fuck a lot of the time. Most of your guys’ hookups were for the camera, yes, but he really did fuck good, and you two even snuck away from your friend group or halfway through class to have a quickie in the bathroom or a deserted stairwell.
He was utterly exhilarating, sure, but you both mutually were attracted to other people, as well, and you both felt constricted with the whole dating thing.
You smirked and turned your head to look at him. “Have fun, Toru?”
But he was already asleep, still starkly naked.
You sighed before shakily sitting up to get a blanket to toss over him. Most of the time, he left right afterwards, excusing himself for homework or some shit, but sometimes he ended up pussydrunk and falling asleep.
Your knees buckled, arms shaky, but you grabbed a fleece blanket from the foot of the bed and threw it over him before standing to grab some clothes from your closet and take a shower.
A few hours later, you were lying in bed half-asleep. You had taken a hot shower (albeit, having to sit down— you really were sore) and had changed into some baggy sweatpants and a scoop neck tank top. Still fully awake, for whatever reason, you opened your laptop back up and scrolled through a few websites before you sighed, tossing your head back.
Maybe you should text him.
Some weed would be nice.
You grabbed your phone from beside you and opened messages, finding the contact “Cho 🔌” and sending a short text.
—————
“hey cho are u up?”
“yep what’s up”
“can you come over i need some weed rn”
“fucking addict”
“fuck you”
“😂 coming”
—————
You rolled your eyes and set your phone down.
Only a few minutes later, a knock sounded at the door of your dorm. You strode across the small room, feeling a bit more stable already, and cracked the door open to peer out.
Choso was standing there, hair down his nape, eyes smudged with a mixture of purple-toned exhaustion and eyeliner.
He pulls off the exhausted look well, you note. You looked him up and down, with his baggy attire, and met his eyes and smiled. “Got the stuff?” You whispered.
He nodded, reaching a hand in his deep pockets. “Yup, riiiiiiight—“ he pulled out a dime bag of green florets— “here.” He smirked, meeting your eyes with a sly undertone.
”Y’know that discount I give you?” He asked.
”…Yeah?”
”I’m adding on a privilege for myself. I get to smoke this with you.” He dangled the bag in front of your face, brows raised, mouth straight.
You laugh in his face, shaking your head. “Yeah, respectfully, fuck no.” You turn your head pointedly behind you. “I’ve, uhh— got company.”
You had a messy history with Cho.
Not bad, just a few sloppy makeouts behind his place of work after a long shift of his. Nothing like good college side-pieces.
He cocked his head. “Got a boyfriend now?”
You could tell there was an underlying amount of jealousy all over his face— his crushed irises and slightly sunken brows were a dead giveaway.
You giggled again, trying to fix your tousled hair, and rubbing a thumb over your bottom lip. To be honest, seducing him on the down-low was pretty enjoyable. He squirmed under the slightest amount of pressure. “Yeah, no boyfriend— y’know I don’t do that shit. Just some guy.”
”Alright.” He pursed his lips. “Can we still smoke this someplace else or do you just want it?”
You contemplated. Sore and swollen as you were, you could definitely benefit from a good makeout. Cho was the more… submissive type, who let you take control.
This was because— you internally smile— he had little to no experience whatsoever. He told you he was a virgin one night over booze and an assortment of weed and other sedatives that lowered his inhibitions enough to let it slip. He probably doesn’t even remember he told you that now.
You smile at him, tongue between your teeth as you look down innocently. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”
He only smiled and reached out a hand to grab yours. You checked behind you— Gojo was still sound asleep— and took his hand, hip to hip in the narrow hallway.
————-
Choso’s place was pretty nice for a broke, burnt-out college student.
He lived off-campus, on a small, cluttered street of houses that more resembled enlarged, run-down shacks. The walk to his house meant fresh air, which truly did work wonders. You felt anew, refreshed. And you felt pretty damn excited as Cho opened the front door for you.
You both kicked off your shoes at the front door, and you took note of the three other pairs of shoes on the mat inside. “Roommates home?” You asked, looking back at him.
He nodded. “They don’t give a shit about my company, though. If you’re worried.”
He towered over you, to be honest— he was over six feet tall, and wide with packed muscle. It was honestly a mystery as to why he was still a virgin, aside from his partial incompetence of socializing. He had a very small close social circle, and any clients he dealed to (which he started from his brother’s friend) he kept far away from him.
He said he ‘didn’t like addicts’, which was quite hypocritical, in your opinion.
You both walked up the rickety stairs to his bedroom. The home was well-decorated— overall cheap, as any college house was— but it had an air of well-lived coziness. You took a liking to it.
His bedroom raised around the same ambience; it was quite simple, with a bed, desk, chair, television, and other college-boy shit, but you felt quite comfortable nonetheless. You jumped on his bed like it was your own, kicking your feet and holding your hand out, beckoning for the weed.
”Shit, give me a sec.” He laughed, closing the door and grabbing a lighter off a shelf right next to him. “Here.” He raised his brows and tossed both the bag and the lighter at you.
You squealed softly and giggled, catching the stuff and immediately lighting a blunt from the rolling paper accompanying the weed in the bag. You inhaled, eyes fluttering closed. He watched you intently, slowly pacing and making his way directly in front of you.
You opened your eyes to look up at him, blunt still in your mouth. His presence was apparent, a warm body to your front. His head was tilted down, and he bent his torso a bit to your level. You took the hint of body language and took the white stick out of your mouth, transferring it to his and tracing a finger across his chin.
It was intimate. The room was dark, the only illumination the dull spark of the embered blunt. His eyes became half-lidded. He raised a hand to smooth your hair, and let you hold the blunt for him as he inhaled deeply, methodically. You leaned into his touch, letting him tilt your head back, exposing your neck. His hand trailed down the side of your neck, shoulders, then stopped at your arm. He rubbed it with his thumb in small, gentle circles. You pulled the blunt out of his mouth and moved it to take another hit. Your mind was already slightly loopy, whether from the weed, or Cho’s presence, you didn’t know.
You were in control, and that gave you a sense of being drunk on power.
And, really, only Choso made you feel this in-charge.
You took the blunt out of your mouth and made to transfer it to his, and he opened his mouth, husky eyes locked on yours. The air was heady with sensation, and your skin prickled. You faked him, smudging the embers out on his jacket. He looked down and scoffed, smirking, and looked back up again. “Seriously?”
You tossed the ashen stick to the hardwood floor and wrapped your legs around his thin, muscled waist, pulling him closer. “Ya really care that much?”
He shook his head, eyes now reflecting a heady neediness, mouth slightly agape. Your hands raised and grasped the back of his neck, tracing strands of his wolfy, shoulder-length hair. “No… don’t mind at all…”
Your mouths meet with exploring hunger, and he let out the tiniest of whimpers as you pushed against him. His hands were all over you, succumbing to the pressure of your soft lips you immediately granted him with. You pull back a bit, watching his face fall as you grin. Your lips grazed again, oh-so-light, teasing him— and he squirmed.
You smirked, inhaling with a soundless laugh. He was so fucking pathetic. You fall back in, biting his lip before your tongues entwine, now back in the full swing of hands travelling over shoulderblades and the incandescence of Cho’s quickening breaths. The plane of his chest was solid; however, it was rising and falling peculiarly fast. He was always nervous like this, a mess. You can’t say you didn’t enjoy it.
Your legs around him tightened, and your hips rolled against him. He was already hard, the heat of him tight in his baggy pants. He strained, whining a bit, before he tilted your head back gently and peppered your cheek, chin, neck, with tongue-induced kisses and small pleas.
“You really wanna… now?”; “I really want you… so pretty…”; “Fuck… d’know what you’re doing to me… hmm…” He would almost inaudibly whisper, face reddening. You kept feeling him through your clothes with small rolls of your hips, and he sighed into the crook of your neck and bucked his hips a bit in return.
“Cho… I can’t.” You came to. You had never actually done anything with him. It was intended by you to keep it that way for now, as you assumed he could get… complicated. Choso seemed quite clingy even now, and with that new connection… ugh. Not something you cared to deal with.
He fully whined, pulling away and looking up, still at a lower level to continue kissing your collarbone. “Please…” His head fell, and he ran a hand up your hip, waist, ribs…
Your head shook side to side. “No. I really gotta go, sorry. Maybe another time… I’m busy.”
He, unsurprisingly, obliged immediately, giving you space and moving to occupy the spot on the bed next to you as you stood and simply walked out. He was obviously still bothered, needing that release. You didn’t particularly care enough currently to do anything to help. Cho was cute, nice, attractive… but he came with a sense of finality. It was scary, and you’d dance around it at any cost, because he was also too good to let go of.
So you walk back to your dorms and return to Gojo’s arms, and you two wordlessly fall into each other’s arms and asleep.