thinking about f1 racer! gojo satoru and how you're his pretty little good luck charm.

while other f1 drivers took the time before the race to meditate or maybe talk to their race engineers and pit wall about their car, satoru would find himself knuckles deep into your pussy.

"a-ah– toru!" you mewl, manicured nails braced against the wall of the waiting room as you let your boyfriend work out all of his racing stress on you. the sound of your dripping cunt is lewd and loud, juices trickling down your thighs as you quiver in your heels, panties bunched at your ankles.

"shh, baby," satoru coos against the shell of your ear, lips brushing against it as his free hand snakes to cover your mouth. "you don't want everyone outside to hear how good i'm making you feel, right?"

of course, you were worried that satoru's engineers outside could hear you. after all, you were only separated by a door that may or may not be unlocked – satoru never confirmed or denied it. his race engineer or his personal trainer could walk in any moment and all they'll see is your teary eyes and how your cunt was greedily sucking in satoru's long and deft digits.

you shake your head, unable to coherently form an answer while satoru rearranges your mind and guts with only his fingers. your lover knew your body like every race track on the grid, the sharpest corners, the flat-out straights, the quickest ways to get you to cum.

call it performance anxiety, but he could never do well on race day until he manages to get you to squirt all over his fingers at least twice.

"c'mon, pretty girl," you hear your boyfriend's honeyed voice through the haze of pleasure as his fingers bully your g-spot, almost like a wake-up call, making your body clench around him. "i don't have much time left before i gotta get into the car. you're not going to deny me my championship win, are you?"

you shake your head once more, drool catching at the corners of your mouth. eyes rolling back and hips thrown back, you could only whimper and whine as you barrel towards your second? third? orgasm of the day, rendering you weak to the whims of your boyfriend.

satoru's fingers curl against your gummy walls before stretching them out, a dragged out and cocky "yeaaah" from your boyfriend as he stares at your glistening cunt with an almost prideful look. your pussy seizes satoru's fingers when your orgasm finally crashes over you which sends your knees buckling towards each other and satoru's hand slipping from your mouth to wrap around your waist quickly.

drivers and their reaction speeds.

"woah there," satoru chuckles dreamily, an almost boyish tone to his laugh when he watches you tremble like a newborn foal, his arm strong against you to steady you. "maybe i can put world orgasm champion to my resume, huh?"

you glare at him weakly over your shoulder as your body comes down from your pleasurable high despite the empty feeling of satoru withdrawing his digits from your sopping cunt. strings of your essence stretch as he pulls away, and you watch your boyfriend clean his fingers up with a gleeful hum.

"oh, come on, don't at me like that," satoru coos as he manhandles you into standing straight so that he can crush his lips against yours, letting you taste just how sweet you are. "you know it'll just get me going again, pretty girl."

you can't help but roll your eyes a little but you kiss him back nonetheless before pulling away with a sweet 'mwah'. the two of you make quick work of making yourselves presentable again, a routine at this point where satoru cleans you up with a towel while you adjust your clothing before slipping your panties back up, business as usual.

"are you sure you don't want help with that, toru?" you ask him, eyes darting down to the almost painful looking bulge in his race suit before you look back up.

"nah," satoru dismisses your concerns before he suits himself up and then flashes you a cocky smirk.

"it's my motivation for driving fast."

cw: yandere! suguru. bullying. omegaverse.

thinking about bully alpha! suguru and nerd omega! reader and how he uses his pheromones to torment you.

you were a cute little thing, suguru couldn't help but think. your head was always in your books, never paying attention to anything else but your studies. it was pathetic. honestly, you were asking to be bullied, suguru thought.

and so that's what he does. before you know it, he's following you like a dog nipping at your heels and showering you from head to toe with his pheromones.

it's awful, you think. your legs grow weak with pleasure, body quivering and eyes glazing over as you try to walk towards your locker despite your slick pooling in your panties, making all the more harder to walk.

and you know suguru can smell it too. your pheromones, sweet like candy, and your slick too. he knows for a fact that you'll taste like the juiciest fruit, ripe and ready for him to sink his teeth into.

his dick twitches to life at that thought.

"suguru, p-please," your squeak breaks him out of his lustful haze, dark purple eyes clapping onto you slumped form that's braced against the lockers. "please, stop."

a wolfish smirk breaks out onto his face and he leans closer instead, drawing out another whimper from your lips as your body instinctively twitches with pleasure, "and why would i do that, darling?"

before you could respond, your knees buckle and suguru swoops in, a strong arm wrapping around your waist to steady you.

"aw, you can't even stand straight, can you?" suguru patronisingly coos against your hairline as he takes a deep breath of your scent, his dick now painfully hard in his slacks.

the other students in the hallway are, of course, aware of what is happening, but suguru's reputation precedes himself. after all, no one goes against a dominant alpha.

"c'mon, darling," suguru purrs, lips brushing along the shell of your ear as he picks you up in his arms easily, holding you against his stronger frame. "let's get you into bed, hmm?"

thinking about f1 racer! gojo satoru and how you're his pretty little good luck charm.

while other f1 drivers took the time before the race to meditate or maybe talk to their race engineers and pit wall about their car, satoru would find himself knuckles deep into your pussy.

"a-ah– toru!" you mewl, manicured nails braced against the wall of the waiting room as you let your boyfriend work out all of his racing stress on you. the sound of your dripping cunt is lewd and loud, juices trickling down your thighs as you quiver in your heels, panties bunched at your ankles.

"shh, baby," satoru coos against the shell of your ear, lips brushing against it as his free hand snakes to cover your mouth. "you don't want everyone outside to hear how good i'm making you feel, right?"

of course, you were worried that satoru's engineers outside could hear you. after all, you were only separated by a door that may or may not be unlocked – satoru never confirmed or denied it. his race engineer or his personal trainer could walk in any moment and all they'll see is your teary eyes and how your cunt was greedily sucking in satoru's long and deft digits.

you shake your head, unable to coherently form an answer while satoru rearranges your mind and guts with only his fingers. your lover knew your body like every race track on the grid, the sharpest corners, the flat-out straights, the quickest ways to get you to cum.

call it performance anxiety, but he could never do well on race day until he manages to get you to squirt all over his fingers at least twice.

"c'mon, pretty girl," you hear your boyfriend's honeyed voice through the haze of pleasure as his fingers bully your g-spot, almost like a wake-up call, making your body clench around him. "i don't have much time left before i gotta get into the car. you're not going to deny me my championship win, are you?"

you shake your head once more, drool catching at the corners of your mouth. eyes rolling back and hips thrown back, you could only whimper and whine as you barrel towards your second? third? orgasm of the day, rendering you weak to the whims of your boyfriend.

satoru's fingers curl against your gummy walls before stretching them out, a dragged out and cocky "yeaaah" from your boyfriend as he stares at your glistening cunt with an almost prideful look. your pussy seizes satoru's fingers when your orgasm finally crashes over you which sends your knees buckling towards each other and satoru's hand slipping from your mouth to wrap around your waist quickly.

drivers and their reaction speeds.

"woah there," satoru chuckles dreamily, an almost boyish tone to his laugh when he watches you tremble like a newborn foal, his arm strong against you to steady you. "maybe i can put world orgasm champion to my resume, huh?"

you glare at him weakly over your shoulder as your body comes down from your pleasurable high despite the empty feeling of satoru withdrawing his digits from your sopping cunt. strings of your essence stretch as he pulls away, and you watch your boyfriend clean his fingers up with a gleeful hum.

"oh, come on, don't at me like that," satoru coos as he manhandles you into standing straight so that he can crush his lips against yours, letting you taste just how sweet you are. "you know it'll just get me going again, pretty girl."

you can't help but roll your eyes a little but you kiss him back nonetheless before pulling away with a sweet 'mwah'. the two of you make quick work of making yourselves presentable again, a routine at this point where satoru cleans you up with a towel while you adjust your clothing before slipping your panties back up, business as usual.

"are you sure you don't want help with that, toru?" you ask him, eyes darting down to the almost painful looking bulge in his race suit before you look back up.

"nah," satoru dismisses your concerns before he suits himself up and then flashes you a cocky smirk.

"it's my motivation for driving fast."

cw: yandere! suguru. bullying. omegaverse.

thinking about bully alpha! suguru and nerd omega! reader and how he uses his pheromones to torment you.

you were a cute little thing, suguru couldn't help but think. your head was always in your books, never paying attention to anything else but your studies. it was pathetic. honestly, you were asking to be bullied, suguru thought.

and so that's what he does. before you know it, he's following you like a dog nipping at your heels and showering you from head to toe with his pheromones.

it's awful, you think. your legs grow weak with pleasure, body quivering and eyes glazing over as you try to walk towards your locker despite your slick pooling in your panties, making all the more harder to walk.

and you know suguru can smell it too. your pheromones, sweet like candy, and your slick too. he knows for a fact that you'll taste like the juiciest fruit, ripe and ready for him to sink his teeth into.

his dick twitches to life at that thought.

"suguru, p-please," your squeak breaks him out of his lustful haze, dark purple eyes clapping onto you slumped form that's braced against the lockers. "please, stop."

a wolfish smirk breaks out onto his face and he leans closer instead, drawing out another whimper from your lips as your body instinctively twitches with pleasure, "and why would i do that, darling?"

before you could respond, your knees buckle and suguru swoops in, a strong arm wrapping around your waist to steady you.

"aw, you can't even stand straight, can you?" suguru patronisingly coos against your hairline as he takes a deep breath of your scent, his dick now painfully hard in his slacks.

the other students in the hallway are, of course, aware of what is happening, but suguru's reputation precedes himself. after all, no one goes against a dominant alpha.

"c'mon, darling," suguru purrs, lips brushing along the shell of your ear as he picks you up in his arms easily, holding you against his stronger frame. "let's get you into bed, hmm?"

cw: yandere! suguru. bullying. omegaverse.

thinking about bully alpha! suguru and nerd omega! reader and how he uses his pheromones to torment you.

you were a cute little thing, suguru couldn't help but think. your head was always in your books, never paying attention to anything else but your studies. it was pathetic. honestly, you were asking to be bullied, suguru thought.

and so that's what he does. before you know it, he's following you like a dog nipping at your heels and showering you from head to toe with his pheromones.

it's awful, you think. your legs grow weak with pleasure, body quivering and eyes glazing over as you try to walk towards your locker despite your slick pooling in your panties, making all the more harder to walk.

and you know suguru can smell it too. your pheromones, sweet like candy, and your slick too. he knows for a fact that you'll taste like the juiciest fruit, ripe and ready for him to sink his teeth into.

his dick twitches to life at that thought.

"suguru, p-please," your squeak breaks him out of his lustful haze, dark purple eyes clapping onto you slumped form that's braced against the lockers. "please, stop."

a wolfish smirk breaks out onto his face and he leans closer instead, drawing out another whimper from your lips as your body instinctively twitches with pleasure, "and why would i do that, darling?"

before you could respond, your knees buckle and suguru swoops in, a strong arm wrapping around your waist to steady you.

"aw, you can't even stand straight, can you?" suguru patronisingly coos against your hairline as he takes a deep breath of your scent, his dick now painfully hard in his slacks.

the other students in the hallway are, of course, aware of what is happening, but suguru's reputation precedes himself. after all, no one goes against a dominant alpha.

"c'mon, darling," suguru purrs, lips brushing along the shell of your ear as he picks you up in his arms easily, holding you against his stronger frame. "let's get you into bed, hmm?"

thinking about f1 racer! gojo satoru and how you're his pretty little good luck charm.

while other f1 drivers took the time before the race to meditate or maybe talk to their race engineers and pit wall about their car, satoru would find himself knuckles deep into your pussy.

"a-ah– toru!" you mewl, manicured nails braced against the wall of the waiting room as you let your boyfriend work out all of his racing stress on you. the sound of your dripping cunt is lewd and loud, juices trickling down your thighs as you quiver in your heels, panties bunched at your ankles.

"shh, baby," satoru coos against the shell of your ear, lips brushing against it as his free hand snakes to cover your mouth. "you don't want everyone outside to hear how good i'm making you feel, right?"

of course, you were worried that satoru's engineers outside could hear you. after all, you were only separated by a door that may or may not be unlocked – satoru never confirmed or denied it. his race engineer or his personal trainer could walk in any moment and all they'll see is your teary eyes and how your cunt was greedily sucking in satoru's long and deft digits.

you shake your head, unable to coherently form an answer while satoru rearranges your mind and guts with only his fingers. your lover knew your body like every race track on the grid, the sharpest corners, the flat-out straights, the quickest ways to get you to cum.

call it performance anxiety, but he could never do well on race day until he manages to get you to squirt all over his fingers at least twice.

"c'mon, pretty girl," you hear your boyfriend's honeyed voice through the haze of pleasure as his fingers bully your g-spot, almost like a wake-up call, making your body clench around him. "i don't have much time left before i gotta get into the car. you're not going to deny me my championship win, are you?"

you shake your head once more, drool catching at the corners of your mouth. eyes rolling back and hips thrown back, you could only whimper and whine as you barrel towards your second? third? orgasm of the day, rendering you weak to the whims of your boyfriend.

satoru's fingers curl against your gummy walls before stretching them out, a dragged out and cocky "yeaaah" from your boyfriend as he stares at your glistening cunt with an almost prideful look. your pussy seizes satoru's fingers when your orgasm finally crashes over you which sends your knees buckling towards each other and satoru's hand slipping from your mouth to wrap around your waist quickly.

drivers and their reaction speeds.

"woah there," satoru chuckles dreamily, an almost boyish tone to his laugh when he watches you tremble like a newborn foal, his arm strong against you to steady you. "maybe i can put world orgasm champion to my resume, huh?"

you glare at him weakly over your shoulder as your body comes down from your pleasurable high despite the empty feeling of satoru withdrawing his digits from your sopping cunt. strings of your essence stretch as he pulls away, and you watch your boyfriend clean his fingers up with a gleeful hum.

"oh, come on, don't at me like that," satoru coos as he manhandles you into standing straight so that he can crush his lips against yours, letting you taste just how sweet you are. "you know it'll just get me going again, pretty girl."

you can't help but roll your eyes a little but you kiss him back nonetheless before pulling away with a sweet 'mwah'. the two of you make quick work of making yourselves presentable again, a routine at this point where satoru cleans you up with a towel while you adjust your clothing before slipping your panties back up, business as usual.

"are you sure you don't want help with that, toru?" you ask him, eyes darting down to the almost painful looking bulge in his race suit before you look back up.

"nah," satoru dismisses your concerns before he suits himself up and then flashes you a cocky smirk.

"it's my motivation for driving fast."

thinking about f1 racer! gojo satoru and how you're his pretty little good luck charm.

while other f1 drivers took the time before the race to meditate or maybe talk to their race engineers and pit wall about their car, satoru would find himself knuckles deep into your pussy.

"a-ah– toru!" you mewl, manicured nails braced against the wall of the waiting room as you let your boyfriend work out all of his racing stress on you. the sound of your dripping cunt is lewd and loud, juices trickling down your thighs as you quiver in your heels, panties bunched at your ankles.

"shh, baby," satoru coos against the shell of your ear, lips brushing against it as his free hand snakes to cover your mouth. "you don't want everyone outside to hear how good i'm making you feel, right?"

of course, you were worried that satoru's engineers outside could hear you. after all, you were only separated by a door that may or may not be unlocked – satoru never confirmed or denied it. his race engineer or his personal trainer could walk in any moment and all they'll see is your teary eyes and how your cunt was greedily sucking in satoru's long and deft digits.

you shake your head, unable to coherently form an answer while satoru rearranges your mind and guts with only his fingers. your lover knew your body like every race track on the grid, the sharpest corners, the flat-out straights, the quickest ways to get you to cum.

call it performance anxiety, but he could never do well on race day until he manages to get you to squirt all over his fingers at least twice.

"c'mon, pretty girl," you hear your boyfriend's honeyed voice through the haze of pleasure as his fingers bully your g-spot, almost like a wake-up call, making your body clench around him. "i don't have much time left before i gotta get into the car. you're not going to deny me my championship win, are you?"

you shake your head once more, drool catching at the corners of your mouth. eyes rolling back and hips thrown back, you could only whimper and whine as you barrel towards your second? third? orgasm of the day, rendering you weak to the whims of your boyfriend.

satoru's fingers curl against your gummy walls before stretching them out, a dragged out and cocky "yeaaah" from your boyfriend as he stares at your glistening cunt with an almost prideful look. your pussy seizes satoru's fingers when your orgasm finally crashes over you which sends your knees buckling towards each other and satoru's hand slipping from your mouth to wrap around your waist quickly.

drivers and their reaction speeds.

"woah there," satoru chuckles dreamily, an almost boyish tone to his laugh when he watches you tremble like a newborn foal, his arm strong against you to steady you. "maybe i can put world orgasm champion to my resume, huh?"

you glare at him weakly over your shoulder as your body comes down from your pleasurable high despite the empty feeling of satoru withdrawing his digits from your sopping cunt. strings of your essence stretch as he pulls away, and you watch your boyfriend clean his fingers up with a gleeful hum.

"oh, come on, don't at me like that," satoru coos as he manhandles you into standing straight so that he can crush his lips against yours, letting you taste just how sweet you are. "you know it'll just get me going again, pretty girl."

you can't help but roll your eyes a little but you kiss him back nonetheless before pulling away with a sweet 'mwah'. the two of you make quick work of making yourselves presentable again, a routine at this point where satoru cleans you up with a towel while you adjust your clothing before slipping your panties back up, business as usual.

"are you sure you don't want help with that, 'toru?" you ask him, eyes darting down to the almost painful looking bulge in his race suit before you look back up.

"nah," satoru dismisses your concerns before he suits himself up and then flashes you a cocky smirk.

"it's my motivation for driving fast."