Work Text:
In his defence, Satoru’s never pretended to be a saint.
He’s more than a little fucked-up. It’s obvious to anyone who spends more than a moment in his presence. Weird. Twisted. But when you’re as powerful as he is, there’s no real point to hiding it. Unchecked power, you know? Not like anyone could actually do anything about him, if he did go truly bad. God knows the Jujutsu higher-ups having been trying to find a solution to the ‘Satoru Gojo Problem’ for years, now. And Satoru’s taken more than a bit of pleasure in taunting those that would rather pretend he doesn’t exist.
Point is – Satoru has always liked pushing through what would be boundaries for other people. Doing all kinds of things that for anyone else, would spell the end of their professional careers.
“Senseiii! Hurry up, my knees are hurting!”
Case and point. The man on the ground in front of him may be an adult now, but he’s still very much one of Satoru’s students. If lines existed for Satoru, he would definitely be crossing one. He’s a teacher (if in name only, really) – doing shit like this is definitely not allowed.
From where he’s fidgeting impatiently on his knees, Yuji Itadori looks like a motherfucking snack.
He looks so perfect. Skin soft and untouched. Eyes bright. Hair styled in its usual undercut style – the one Satoru knows Yuji takes longer than he lets on to get right. He spends hours on it in front of the mirror, a secret Satoru’s not meant to know. To get it perfect.
Point is, Yuji is unmarked – for now.
Satoru can’t resist. He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture.
“What was that for?” Aw, Yuji always looks so adorable when he’s confused. His face twists. “I’m not even naked or anything yet, Gojo-Sensei.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he answers.
Satoru doesn’t have the heart to tell Yuji that he just took a ‘Before’ picture. For reference. Because he’s kind of curious to see how much he can ruin the kid. Satoru wants to fuck him up. Just a little. A lot, actually.
When Yuji goes to remove his shirt, Satoru stops him.
“Huh? You usually like seeing my muscles, Sensei.”
And that’s the thing – he’s right. Satoru loves seeing Yuji parade around his ridiculously ripped body. Especially when he makes a show of it. Seriously, the guy should learn what body fat is, sometime. Or maybe not, Satoru actually really digs the muscled-up look. How borderline unhealthy it probably actually is for him.
Normally, he loves to see all those muscles, but not this time. Because Yuji’s wearing white, and Satoru knows from experience how it’ll look in a moment. Once he truly gets going. He wants that shirt drenched, like every other part of Yuji will be when he’s done with him.
Instead, he nudges Yuji’s crotch with his foot. “You’re hard for me.”
“Well, yeah. I like sucking your dick, Sensei,” Yuji replies, beaming up at him.
There’s been times when Satoru’s nearly crumbled under the weight of his cursed technique. Not literally, of course, he’s too strong for that. But on the morals of it. Times where he’s come close to snapping and doing something truly unforgiveable. Which – going by what Satoru normally considers as totally fine – would be pretty damn twisted.
It’s times like these, when he has Yuji Itadori on his knees and smiling blindly up at him, while pulling Satoru’s pants down. Satoru has the sudden urge to tear this kid to fucking shreds. Until there’s nothing left. Unrecognisable. But he can’t do that.
So instead, he’ll just settle for turning the Yuji’s throat inside-out with his cock.
Yuji giggles when Satoru’s cock bobs free of its confines. He definitely lets it hit him on the nose on purpose, even while he laughs and pretends to flinch away. All innocent-like. Fucking nympho.
God, Satoru’s cock looks so good in front of Yuji’s face. It’s too big for him. Satoru has a great dick, if he says so himself. A fucking monster cock if there ever was one. More than one person in the past hasn’t been able to get it in their mouth properly. Not that it’s stopped him.
“Go on then, Yuji-kun,” he teases. “Give it a kiss for me.”
Yuji barks out another laugh, but indulges him. Leans forward and pecks his plump lips to the head of Satoru’s dick. It sends a soft jolt through him. Nothing special, really. But Yuji knows him. Knows to follow it up with a tentative lick – a shyness that’s a charade for Satoru’s benefit, nothing else. After all, he’s seen Yuji scoop more than one person’s cum out of his hole, post-sex, while telling him conversationally about his day. Satoru’s fisted him practically elbow-deep before. Point is, the kid’s a slut. Nothing shy about him.
And with time, those same pretend kitten-licks become longer drags of his tongue. Yuji’s always enjoyed sucking him off. The same way Satoru knows he’s big, he also knows that Yuji’s fixated on his size. That’s fine by him. If Yuji wants to do whatever he asks just so that he can get dicked-down? Who’s he to complain.
“Yuji-kun,” he hisses as the younger man swirls his tongue around the head of his cock. He’s having too much fun. “You ever gonna let me fuck your throat?”
“I thought that’s what was happening?”
“And yet here we are – you talking back to me, and my cock clearly not down your throat like we discussed.”
To his surprise, Yuji’s answer is to take Satoru’s length into his mouth, lips stretched wide.
“Ish ‘is ‘effer?”
Fucking hell. He doesn’t even care about the teeth. Satoru loves this little shit so fucking much.
Instead of replying, Satoru just cackles and bucks his hips. Makes Yuji flinch as he jabs right into the back of his throat. No warning. Yuji’s got a good gag reflex – after all, he’s been swallowing Sukuna’s fingers for years now – but Satoru’s cock is a fair deal larger than some measly fingers. And he wants to see the brat retch on him.
And sure enough, Yuji half-coughs, half-hiccups as he pulls back. A single string of spit falls from his mouth as he withdraws. Splatters on his lower lip and chin, hanging for a second before breaking. The first of many to come.
“Senseiiii,” he whines. Like a child. Fuck. Yuji’s been an adult for years now. Yet he still knows which buttons of Satoru’s to press – all the red flags. Fucking crimson.
“Aw, did I catch you by surprise, Yuji-kun?” Satoru says with a laugh as he leans down to ruffle Yuji’s hair. May as well play along with the fucked-up game. His game. “Do you need more lessons?”
“I’m good at this!” Yuji protests. Pouts up at him.
Satoru loudly hocks a glob of spit. Deliberately aims it so it lands right on Yuji’s right eye, and snickers with delight when the guy doesn’t pull away. Yuji’s nose wrinkles adorable as he blinks. Spit drips down his cheek like its tears. Satoru’s going to make him cry for real, soon. Blubber on his cock.
Unable to resist, Satoru pulls out his phone again. This time, he sets it to record, rather than just take a photo.
“Are you going to suck me probably now, Yuji-kun?” He says. The perfect blackmail. Yuji loves being on camera, can’t say no to it. He won’t be a prissy little bitch when he knows someone will watch it back later.
And as he precited, Yuji scowls at him before reaching out for Satoru’s cock again. “Just don’t send this to Fushiguro-kun, like last time. You know he gets jealous.”
“Naw, is my boy getting embarrassed?” He taunts as he holds the phone in Yuji’s face. The younger man glowers at him, before sniffing wetly. He doesn’t stop jacking Satoru off though, and when he brings his sticky lips back to his cock, his eyes don’t stray from the camera. Satoru watches in awe through his phone as Yuji hollows his cheeks and slurps loudly. Teary eyes blink, all doe-like.
“Come on Yuji-kun,” Satoru groans as the younger man works his cock. “Stop teasing me already. You know how I like it.”
The knowing look Yuji sends him is proof enough that Yuji does know. And sure enough, when he pulls off Satoru the next time, he’s quick to purse his lips. Those sweet, plump, spit-slicked lips. Fuuuck. And there it is – Yuji hocks out a wad of spit onto his cock, nice and sloppy. Satoru watches in awe as the thick glob of saliva drips down the left side of his shaft. Grips to the underside of his cock for just a second, before pinching off and falling to the floor. There’s already a decent puddle there.
Satoru’s going to turn the floor into the fucking ocean.
Yuji goes back to town on Satoru’s cock like a fucking pro. A real black hole of mess and slobber. The way he tightens his lips and bobs his head up and down – swallows around his cock – it’s enough to make Satoru’s head spin. He’s gagging every now and then, of course he is, the ditzy little slut. Satoru can’t help but moan at the sensation. Yuji’s mouth is hot and wet. Feels fucking amazing. He grabs a handful of the man’s pink hair with the hand that’s not holding his phone. Starts thrusting into his throat for a few moments, holding the Yuji’s head still and treating it like a fleshlight.
When Satoru eventually pauses and pulls out of Yuji’s mouth, he cackles at the sight of a wave of liquid following him out. God knows what it is. Yuji licks his lips and lets it drip off his chin, staining that white shirt just the way he’d hoped for. All the while, Yuji looks up at Satoru like he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
“Naw,” Satoru taunts. Moves the phone right up to Yuji’s face, so he can get a real good shot of the mess. Zooms in on the red, blotchy patches of skin. Imperfections. He’s starting to look ugly, now. “What do you say?”
Yuji blinks tears out of his eyes and sniffles loudly. Looks directly in the camera. “Sensei?”
“You’re meant to thank me for choking you out on my cock, Yuji-kun.”
“Oh! I get it now!” Satoru watches in rapt awe as Yuji shoots a blinding grin into the camera. “Thank you for choking me on your fat cock, Gojo-Sensei! It’s really big and it makes me gag a lot!”
Fuck. Satoru’s clipping that one. Has half a mind to share that ten seconds of footage all around Jujutsu High. Megumi would indeed have a fucking conniption.
Yuji’s eyes sparkle with mischief. And then both of his hands are wrapping around the thickness of Satoru’s shaft, pumping him a few times. Before Satoru can get mad – because it’s meant to be with no hands – he lets out a groan, because Yuji’s licking up the precum dripping from his slit, now dripping down in long, fat strands.
“Yum, Sensei. Do you think you’ll jack off to this video later?”
It’s such a stupid question. Satoru will be keeping this in his spank bank for an eternity.
He’s also getting bored of holding his phone, though. And this is going to be a long session. He doesn’t need to film all of it. He’s got enough footage as it is.
Deciding that Yuji’s getting a little too big for his boots, Satoru flips the video around until its pointing at him, before holding the phone above himself to get a nice shot of them both. He flexes his abs – they’re still better than Yuji’s, Satoru thinks. He then proceeds to slam the brat down onto his cock. As hard as and violet as he can.
The noise Yuji makes is frankly inhuman. Teeth scrape against him, because Satoru’s too thick for them not to, and he’s taken down Limitless in order to feel this properly.
Keeping the phone held above them both, Satoru throws a peace sign up at the camera, and sticks his tongue out teasingly. Right as Yuji does a full body shudder underneath him. Body convulsions and the like.
“I should really do this live, next time,” Satoru says as he ends the recording and throws his phone onto the sofa. “I reckon people on the internet would have some real fucked-up suggestions.”
As if on cue, Yuji half-coughs, half-burps around his cock. It’s not pretty. He’s been down there for a while. So Satoru pulls him back, and a fresh wave of mess spills out with him.
“It’s funny that you think there’s people out there more fucked-up than you, Sensei,” Yuji says, before wiping the dangling string of something that’s been dripping from his nose. Such a gross boy. Satoru promptly spits on him again, right after Yuji has finished cleaning himself. Heh. Take that.
Yuji’s skin is getting even redder now. The flush spreads from his cheeks and down his neck. Glowing like a tomato. Satoru wonders if he can make the boy pop.
… Welp, may as well give it a whirl.
When he reaches down to prod at Yuji’s swollen lips with his fingers, he’s all but sucked straight in. Seems that Yuji’s a hungry boy after all. He’s able to get all four of his fingers inside to rest on Yuji’s tongue, and after pausing to “boop” him on the nose with his free thumb, slips that inside as well. Gets his whole hand in, right down to the knuckles. Teeth clench down on his hand. Naughty. Satoru wonders if it’s possible to flick the back of Yuji’s throat, like this.
Not that he really needs to. Because the idiot is gagging already, his face scrunching up in such an ugly way as he does so. He lets out a pretty gross noise. Shoulder hunch forward in a way that makes it clear he’s holding a full-body lurch back. Can’t have that. So Satoru keeps going, rubbing his fingers over Yuji’s throat and feeling its contours as the fucker wretches and sobs around him. Face getting all nasty and blotchy, more and more with each passing second.
Satoru has big hands. And Yuji has a fucking big mouth to match. He can’t shut up half the time, of course, but also literally. Makes it all the more satisfying to mouth-fist him like this.
Beneath him, Yuji is starting to look properly ridiculous. Lips stretched wide like a fucking duck and slurping around him. It’s up there with least attractive he’s ever looked, and for a second Satoru wonders why he even bothers. Surely there’s prettier people out there to ruin.
“Ugly boy,” Satoru coos. Reaches forward with his fingers and strokes over his Yuji’s throat, “You reckon if I reach far enough, I’ll find where Sukuna’s hiding?”
Despite everything, Yuji laughs around his hand. Fucking laughs. It makes things even worse, all spluttery and choking. Nostrils flared as wet slobber is coughed out over Satoru’s knuckles. It’s a nasty, burpy kind-of gag, and Satoru decides that if Yuji pukes then he’s just going to punch the back of his throat as punishment.
It doesn’t happen though, thank fuck, because apparently Yuji isn’t completely useless. But it still isn’t a pretty site, with Yuji’s usually sharp facial features all distorted by a fucking fist inside his head. It’s a power rush, how Satoru can literally change the shape of this pretty boy’s head and make him look grotesque, even if it’s just for a few fleeting moments.
But as much as Satoru’s getting a sick sort of pleasure out of punishing Yuji’s gag reflex, he has no real desire to get what comes next. So he withdraws his fingers after another second or so, a relieved tremble coming from Yuji in the process. And ugh, his hand. It’s like that one time he reached through a Curse with Limitless, and then exploded it just for funzies. Dripping with gunk all over the place. Gross.
Yuji’s eyes flutter open, red-rimmed and crying buckets. He swallows thickly, and then reaches up to cup Satoru’s balls.
“You better not be done yet, Gojo-Sensei,” he slurs, voice utterly ruined from his throat-job.
And nah, Satoru’s not even close to done. But he also can’t really focus when his hand is this wet. He hates it.
Rather than just use Limitless to get rid of the saliva (although really, Satoru was reaching down Yuji’s oesophagus by the end of it, so is it really just that?), he decides it’s makeover time. Yuji spent so long getting his hair just right for this, it’d be a shame for Satoru not to contribute, right?
Yuji fucking mewls when Satoru runs his drenched hand through his pink locks. Real nasty-like. It’s addicting, making someone that’s usually so aesthetically pleasing look so fucking hideous in that moment.
“You should go into cosmetics, Yuji-kun,” Satoru babbles, absentmindedly. He works on spiking up the front of Yuji’s fringe with his sodden hand. “Your own brand of hair products. One-hundred percent organic.”
“You think?” Yuji gurgles under him. He’s all cock-drunk. Too out of it to wittily reply back.
Satoru’s going to make him fucking non-verbal, he decides.
But now that he’s seen Yuji’s mouth all stretched out like that on his fist, Satoru can’t get enough of it. He fishhooks his thumbs in either end of Yuji’s gaping mouth, before shoving his cock back in. Yuji blinks pathetically up at him as Satoru pulls his lips wide, barely feeling any suction on his cock but not wanting that right now all the same. With his lips pulled out like this, there’s just teeth all over his cock. Amateur. Surely Yuji’s learnt by now to not chomp on someone’s dick, no matter how hungry he always is.
“Pretty crap at this, aren’t you?” Satoru croons as he thrusts forward. Yuji retches, all pathetic gurgling noises in the back of his throat. God, he’s such a slut it’s not even funny anymore, spit frothing in the corners of his mouth, slicking up his already fat lips. There’s another graze of teeth, and Satoru holds back a pleased shiver. May as well throw in some pain play while they’re at it too, huh?
And Satoru’s sodden, thanks to Yuji. The little shit is making no attempt at all to refrain from being messy, thick drool slicking up everywhere and pooling in Satoru’s white pubes. He’s going to need a fucking long shower after this, that’s for sure. A real deep clean.
“Awwww,” he coos as he thrusts. Commits to memory the way Yuji flinches. His body in instinctual revolt, no matter how much he loves it. “Little vaccum mouth, huh? My little Unlimited Void.”
The noises Yuji’s making don’t sound human anymore. Maybe he is a curse after all. Satoru thinks he heard a similar sound from a semi-grade 1 he exorcised a year or so ago. It definitely reminds him of this moment, that’s for sure. Probably explains why he’d been hard at the time. Oops.
Satoru grins wickedly when he pulls back, watching as Yuji fights to catch his breath. He sniffs loudly. It’s really gross, actually. He hopes to god that he clogs up Yuji’s sinuses for days to come.
There’s a string of thick, mucousy spit hanging off the bottom of Satoru’s balls. That fucked up crap that comes from deep in the back of the throat. It’s probably more of a reflection of how fucked-out Yuji is that he lets Satoru scoop it up and smear it on his face. The little fucker just lets him do it, eyes fluttering a little and tilting his head like a beckoning puppy. It’s really, really messed up. Satoru really goes for it though, until the point where even Yuji has to draw back eventually in disgust.
“Ewwww, sensei!”
“Heh, I know. You really look revolting now. Why did you let me do that?”
Yuji pouts. Fucking pouts. “You know why…”
And he’s right. That’s the most fucked-up thing about this. Yuji would do anything Satoru asked. If he really asked. All the fucked-up fantasies (even more fucked-up than this), his darkest desires. Satoru has no doubt that Yuji would submit to each and every one. Even if he found them too much for himself, or thought Satoru was disgusting. That’s the power Satoru has over his student.
It’s frankly dizzying.
He doesn’t really hold back, after that. Just proceeds to fuck Yuji’s throat good and properly. Keeps going until it’s all too much, until Yuji’s dissociated enough to let him take control completely. The last of the brat’s involuntary flinches melt away. Maybe he’s unconscious, who knows. It wouldn’t be the first time Satoru’s choked someone out on his cock. But – nah, he looks down to see Yuji’s eyelids flutter. He’s there, still. Vacant. Nothing more than cock on the mind.
God, Satoru was right to have Yuji keep his shirt on. Wet stains show up all over it. It makes the white fabric look like a crime scene, the kind where there’s the outline of the corpses left behind. Fuck, it really shouldn’t make Satoru’s dick twitch when he thinks of it like that, but that’s life, he supposes.
Yuji’s shirt is plastered to his chest. Glued there by throat slime. His poor nipples look like they’re chaffing like no tomorrow. Hard as glass and poking up against the now mostly-translucent shirt. Satoru can see his abs too. The whole fucking outfit of his is a write-off, at this point. Just how Satoru wanted it.
And the way it- oh, right. He almost forgot about Yuji himself.
A quick check-in on the brat himself is enough to know that the brat’s still kicking. Kinda. Satoru’s been thrusting absentmindedly for a while now. Too busy congratulating himself on his good choices in life.
“Yuji-kun!” Satoru cheers as he pulls back. Watches in awe as Yuji’s slack mouth isn’t able to hold anything back from coming out after him. “You still with me? Quick – what’s two-plus-two?”
“Ngh… yeah…”
Yuji’s eyes are all unfocused. Poor thing. Satoru thinks he might’ve really done some damage this time. Killed off what few brain cells the poor guy has left. He slaps Yuji across the cheek, getting a wet squelch but not much else. Maybe it’s permanent. He might have to keep Yuji in his closet after this, just pull him out for special occasions.
Satoru’s almost done too, really. His mind is wandering. Because this was fun and all, but he kinda wants to do something else now.
He smacks Yuji a few more times, this time with his cock. Then pokes him in the eye with it, just because he can. Not real hard or anything. But it’s fun to do when the brat’s backtalk has been ejected out of his brain. Nothing more than a pliant cock sleeve.
Speaking of which-
When he next pulls Yuji back onto his cock, Satoru reaches for his phone again. Doesn’t think he really needs to film anything else. But he does need to finish the job.
Making sure to get a similar angle to his initial picture – the ‘Before’ – Satoru taps Yuji on the back of his head. Pushes down until he’s got him mashed up into his pubes. And there it is, the perfect ‘After’ picture. Eyes vacant and rolling into the back of the head. A large bubble of something coming from his left nostril. Hair sodden and plastered to his forehead. And not to mention the fact that Yuji himself looks damn-near unrecognisable, covered in all the crap Satoru’s made him gag and cough up over the course of the session.
Heh, perfect.
Satoru’s never really been the biggest fan of orgasms. Sure, they feel good and all. But the ending always pales in comparison to the twisted shit he’s able to do in the lead-up. So he doesn’t plan for anything all that special this time – just lets himself cum deep down Yuji’s gullet. More for the brat’s enjoyment than his own, he knows how Yuji loves guzzling cum. Hopefully he’ll give Sukuna a good flush at the same time, if the demon’s down there still. Who knows. A little bit of his cum drips out of Yuji’s nose, afterward. Which, okay fine, Satoru does cum a fair amount. Maybe he will make Yuji’s head pop after all.
Yuji falls in a heap afterward. He’s got a stupid little smile on his face, and Satoru raises an eyebrow when he hears him giggle a moment later. This fucking kid.
“Fun day out with sensei?” He asks absentmindedly as he looks back to his phone. Pulls up the initial picture of Yuji, all prim and proper while waiting on his knees. Then guffaws at the contrast between the two of them.
“Uh huh,” Yuji says dumbly behind him. Satoru’s lost interest.
Who to troll with this… ah!
Satoru likes to think of himself as a cool grown-up. Hip and in-touch with the kids, you know? Which is why he feels real proud of himself when he sends his very own version of the ‘How it started… How it’s going’ meme to the perfect person. Complete with the side-by-side of best-boy Yuji himself.
It only takes a minute to get a response. Yay.
I’m blocking you – Nanami Kento, 4:14pm
Too late. Satoru’s already sent a second selfie – himself holding up the peace-sign as the focus, with Yuji promptly hacking up a lung (and a fair amount of his cum) in the background.
… Satoru may or may not have just found his new wallpaper.