⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ cw: needy!megumi, p in v, creampie, established relationship, everyone is 21+, mentions of masturbation (m), in a world where shinjuku didn't happen, 1k
note: based on this request! this is not my best work but i tried.
masterlist
megumi never needed anyone. he was perfectly fine going through life on his own — until he met you.
all of his walls came crumbling down the first time you looked at him with those pretty eyes. it was insane, how badly he fell for you, how he couldn't go a day without thinking about you, how he felt your touch lingering on his skin, how his body reacted to being near you.
he spent the last few nights away on a mission stroking himself to the thought of you, but it wasn't enough. he needed you. needed to be buried inside of your wet, tight little pussy, needed to hear those pretty moans as he fucked you, needed to feel your hands grasping and clawing at him.
the second he came back, he wasted no time in heading to your dorm. he was on you the instant he stepped through the door, peppering hasty kisses along your neck and collarbones. "baby," he whispered, hands roaming underneath your shirt. "i need you so bad. i can't-."
megumi tugs at the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms, allowing him to take it off. he whines at the sight of your bare breasts, the soft sound slipping out of him before he can stop it. his eyes are dark, almost glassy, and the second your shirt hits the floor he’s surging forward again, mouth latching onto one nipple while his hand cups the other. he sucks hard, tongue flicking, and another little whimper vibrates against your skin.
“missed you,” he mumbles around the peak, voice already wrecked. “spent the whole fucking night thinking about this—about how soft you are—” he cuts himself off with a shaky inhale when your fingers thread into his hair. “please. please let me—”
“baby,” you murmur, tilting his face up so you can kiss him. he melts into it immediately, mouth open and desperate, tongue sliding against yours like he’s trying to crawl inside you through the kiss alone. his hands are already working at the waistband of your shorts, tugging impatiently.
“need to feel you,” megumi pants against your lips. “need to be inside. i can’t wait, i’m so—fuck, i’m so hard it hurts.” he grinds against your thigh to prove it, the thick line of his cock straining against his pants. another soft, broken sound leaves him when you palm him through the fabric.
you help him shove your shorts and panties down. the second you’re bare he grabs your hips and walks you back towards the bed, his lips on you in a bruising kiss.
the backs of your knees hit the mattress and he follows you down immediately, climbing over you the moment your back touches the sheets. he settles between your thighs, one hand braced beside your head, the other already shoving his own pants and boxers down just far enough to free his cock. it springs out flushed and leaking pre, and he gives it a rough stroke while staring down at you.
megumi's voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks again. “can i…? please, baby.”
you nod, a little breathless from how horny you are. “yeah, megumi. please..i need you too.”
he lines himself up and sinks in on a long, shaky exhale, eyes locked on yours the entire time. the stretch is perfect, thick and deep, and the second he’s fully seated he drops his forehead to yours, breathing hard.
“fuck—” the word comes out broken. his hips start moving, slow at first, then harder, deeper, like he can’t help himself. “fuck—” the slide of his cock against your walls is overwhelming—slick and tight and so fucking warm. little broken sounds keep slipping from his throat, each one more helpless than the last.
one of his hands finds yours and pins it above your head, fingers lacing tight. the other stays under your thigh, holding you open so he can drive in deeper. when your eyes start to flutter shut he makes a quiet, almost panicked noise.
your eyes flutter open and you can't help the soft whine that escapes your lips. his eyes are glassy, lower lip caught between his teeth, little broken moans slipping out with every thrust.
“feels so good,” he gasps, the words tumbling out between thrusts. “your pussy feels so fucking good. i-i wanna stay buried in you all day, never pull out, can’t stand being apart from you, hate every second i’m not inside you—”
you pull him closer, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist to keep him deep. “i don’t like being apart from you either,” you moan softly. “i love you.”
the words make him moan outright, hips stuttering. his rhythm turns a desperate, messier. “wanna cum inside you… please.”
he shifts the angle, grinding deeper on every thrust, the head of his cock dragging over that spot that makes your thighs shake. his eyes never leave yours. not once. even when his own orgasm starts to build, even when his face twists with pleasure and another soft, helpless whimper spills from his throat, he keeps looking at you like you're the only thing in this world that matters to him.
“cum with me,” he begs, voice cracking. “please, baby—”
megumi reaches down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles while he keeps fucking into you.
your orgasm washes over you without warning, walls fluttering and clenching tight around him as pleasure pulses through you in waves. the way you squeeze him is what finally breaks him—he buries himself deep and cums with a long, shaky cry of your name, spilling hot inside you. he grinds his hips in small circles, fingers still working your clit through the last of your pleasure.
he collapses on top of you, face buried in your neck, his breath fanning along your dampened skin. the two of you stay like this—wrapped up in each other, his cock still seated inside you.
his thumb brushes over your cheek, gentle and tender before he finally speaks.
“…i’m going to ask gojo if we can go on missions together from now on.”
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to keep the facecam on while you’re bent over the desk in front of him, one hand on your hip and the other clicking through chat donations like it’s just another Tuesday. “Yeah I’ll do the ranked climb later,” he says into the mic, voice completely even, then leans forward and pushes into you slow and deep. He mutes for two seconds, mutters “fuck, clamp down like that again,” then unmutes and answers a sub question about his sensitivity settings while his hips keep rolling.
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to make you sit on his face during the loading screens, tongue working slow and deliberate while the queue timer ticks down. Every time the match is about to start he lifts you off just enough to say “one more, don’t come yet,” then goes right back to licking into you like he’s got all the time in the world. When the game finally loads he sets you back in his lap, still dripping, and starts playing with one hand while the other stays between your legs, fingers sliding in and out in time with the fights.
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to edge you for an entire three-hour stream, never letting you finish. He keeps a toy inside you on the lowest setting the whole time, remote in his pocket, and every time chat donates he turns it up for a few seconds just to watch you shift in the chair next to him. “You good?” he asks casually. You nod too fast and he smirks, turns the vibe higher, and goes back to explaining the new update like nothing’s happening.
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to let you give him head under the desk during collabs, completely straight-faced while he talks to other streamers on Discord. His hand stays in your hair the whole time, guiding you slow, and every time someone asks him a question he answers clearly even as your throat tightens around him. When the call ends he looks down, thumb brushing your bottom lip, and says “swallow,” quiet and calm, with a slight smirk.
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to record a private video just for the two of you after a long stream, camera still rolling while he bends you over the same chair. He talks the whole time in that same low voice, telling you exactly how wet you are, how good you take it, how chat would lose their minds if they could see. “Look at the camera,” he says, gripping your hair and tilting your face up. “Wanna see later how pretty you look when you’re full.”
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to make you edge yourself on camera while he plays, just out of frame. He tells you the rules in that same calm voice he uses for tutorials: “Fingers only. No coming until I say.” Every time you get close he glances over, shakes his head once, and you have to stop. Chat keeps asking why he keeps looking to the side. He just smirks and says “checking something,” then turns the sensitivity of the toy up another notch without ever taking his eyes off the game for long.
᭡ kali’s notes ⸻ Guys I’m obsessed with him in this kind of AU... I wish he were real..anyway hope y’all enjoyed it ??mwahh !
so absolutely, completely done with sukuna's bullshit that you can barely see straight through the haze of cheap tequila and the brain freeze clawing at your skull from the way you're shoving spoonfuls of ice cream into your mouth like it's a fucking lifeline.
you slump against shoko's shoulder on her shitty dorm room floor, surrounded by empty bottles and the sticky residue of melted chocolate chip, and you just let it all pour out of you.
every petty grievance, every time he brushed you off for a video game or looked at some other girl a second too long, every time he made you feel small and stupid for wanting even a crumb of his attention.
you're crying, maybe. there's wetness on your cheeks, but it could just be the ice cream melting or the condensation from the bottle you're still clutching.
it doesn't matter.
what matters is the way shoko's fingers card through your hair, slow and soothing, her dark eyes soft and so, so patient.
"he's such an asshole," you slur, nuzzling deeper into the crook of her neck.
she smells like cigarettes and vanilla lotion, and it's the most grounding thing in the world right now. "i hate him. i fucking hate him so much, sho. why do i let him do this to me?"
she doesn't answer with words.
instead, she tilts your chin up, her thumb brushing away a tear, and then her lips are on yours.
it's familiar, this thing you two have. it's comfort and release and a way to say everything you can't put into words.
you melt into her instantly, a desperate little sound tearing from your throat as you part your lips for her and taste tequila and mint and the faint sweetness of your shared ice cream.
it makes your head spin even more, but in the best way. your hands come up to fist in the fabric of her crop top, holding her close, and you're already whining into her mouth.
you can feel the cold of the ice cream carton against your hip where it's tipped over, but you don't care. nothing matters except the way her tongue slides against yours, the way her fingers tighten in your hair, the way she pulls you closer until you're practically in her lap.
you're so drunk.
so fucking drunk that the room is starting to tilt and your thoughts are getting all fuzzy around the edges, but your body knows exactly what it needs.
you start rocking your hips, grinding your aching, desperate cunt against the firm muscle of her thigh. your jeans are too tight, the seam pressing right against your clit as you rut against her like an animal in heat, mouth still locked on hers, muffling your own pathetic little moans.
you can feel the damp spot growing at the crotch of your pants, can feel how slick and swollen you are just from kissing her, and it's pathetic and needy and you don't give a single fuck.
"shoko," you gasp, breaking the kiss to tilt your head back, baring your throat to her like you're offering it up. "shoko, please, i need—i need more. i need to feel good. make me feel good, please, i'm so—i'm so—"
"shh, i know, baby." her voice is a low, soothing hum against your ear, and you feel her hand slide down your back, over the curve of your ass. "i know you need to let go. i'm gonna take care of you, okay? you trust me, don't you?"
you nod frantically, tears still leaking from your eyes as you look up at her with all the pathetic, desperate devotion you can muster. "yes, yes, i trust you. i trust you so much, sho. please."
she smiles, that lazy, knowing smile that always makes your stomach flip, and then she's pulling out her phone. you can barely focus on what she's saying, just catch fragments of her voice—
"hey, get your asses over here,"
"she's a mess,"
"no, a good mess, just bring yourselves"
—and then she tosses the phone aside and pulls you back into another kiss that robs you of every coherent thought.
they must not live far, or maybe you're just that lost in the haze of alcohol and shoko's touch, because it feels like only minutes later that the door to her dorm swings open.
you're so far gone that you barely register the two tall figures that step inside, too busy licking into shoko's mouth and grinding against her thigh like a bitch in heat. it isn't until you hear a low, rough laugh that you even realize anyone else is there.
"fuck, shoko. you didn't say she was already this far gone."
that's geto. you know his voice, deep and smoky from too many cigarettes.
you pull your mouth away from shoko's with a wet, obscene sound, blinking up at him and the flash of white hair beside him.
gojo's grinning like he just found the best toy at the party, his sunglasses shoved back into his hair, ice-blue eyes sweeping over your disheveled state with obvious interest.
geto is already lighting a cigarette, the flare of the lighter illuminating the sharp angles of his face, and he looks at you the way he looks at everything—like he's already figured out exactly how he's going to take you apart.
"aw, suku's girl is all sad," gojo coos, stepping closer and crouching down to your level. his voice is a mocking singsong, but his eyes are hungry. "what's wrong, sweetheart? did he make you cry? that's no fun."
you want to tell him to fuck off, but your brain is soup and shoko's hand has slid around to palm your breast through your shirt, and all that comes out of your mouth is a garbled little whimper.
you feel hot and dizzy and so fucking empty, like there's a void inside you that needs to be filled with something, anything.
your hips keep moving against shoko's thigh, chasing friction that's not nearly enough.
"look at her," geto says, taking a long drag of his cigarette as he watches you. his voice is flat, but there's a heat underneath it that makes your thighs clench. "she's so drunk she can barely think. perfect."
shoko clicks her tongue, still stroking your hair, still smiling that little smile. "i told you. she needs to be taken care of. and i'm nice enough to let you boys in on the fun, so don't make me regret it."
"never." gojo's grin widens, and he's already reaching for the button of your jeans. his fingers brush against your hip, and you jolt like you've been shocked. "c'mon, sweet thing. let's get these off you. you're all wet, aren't you? i can smell you from here."
and god, you should say no.
you should push him away and stumble to your feet and call sukuna and scream at him until your voice gives out. but your body has already made the decision for you.
your hips lift off shoko's thigh, a silent, desperate permission, and gojo practically purrs as he yanks your jeans and soaked panties down your legs in one swift motion. the cool air of the room hits your bare, glistening cunt, and you shiver, a needy little sound falling from your lips.
"fuck, she's dripping," gojo breathes, and there's no mockery in his voice now, just raw hunger. "shoko, you've been holding out on us."
"shut up and use your mouth for something useful, satoru."
that's all the encouragement he needs.
he's on his knees between your spread legs before you can blink, big hands gripping your thighs and pushing them apart. and then his mouth is on you—hot, wet, insistent—and you're gone.
your head falls back against shoko's shoulder as gojo's tongue drags through your folds, from your dripping entrance up to your swollen clit, and the sound you make is nothing short of pathetic.
it's too much, it's not enough, it's everything all at once.
your hands fly down to tangle in his soft white hair, and you buck against his face like it's the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
"that's it, baby," shoko murmurs in your ear, her hand sliding up your shirt to palm your bare breast, her thumb flicking over your hardening nipple. "let him make you feel good. you deserve it. you've been so stressed, so upset. just let go."
you're crying again.
you can feel the tears streaming down your temples, mixing with the sweat already beading on your skin. it's too much. the way gojo's tongue is circling your clit, the way shoko's fingers are twisting and pulling at your nipple, the way you can feel geto's eyes on you as he smokes his cigarette, watching you fall apart with that unreadable expression.
you feel so wanted.
"more," you whimper, the word barely a whisper. "more, please, i need—i need to be filled, please—"
gojo pulls back with a wet sound, his chin glistening with your slick. he's grinning, but it's not the cocky grin from before. it's dark, predatory. "you hear that, suguru? she wants to be filled."
geto takes one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the floor, not even bothering to look for an ashtray. he's already unbuckling his belt, the metallic clink making your stomach flip with anticipation and fear. "then let's fill her."
what happens next is a blur of limbs and heat and the wet sounds of bodies coming together.
you're stripped bare in seconds, your shirt torn off so carelessly that a button pings off the wall.
gojo is shucking his jeans, and his cock springs free—long, thick, curved slightly upward, with a bead of precum already glistening at the tip.
geto's is just as intimidating, but darker, more veined, and the sight of them both, hard and ready for you, makes your mouth go dry even as your pussy clenches around nothing.
"you know the drill, don't you?" geto asks, his voice low and rough. he's positioned behind you, his chest against your back, his breath hot against your ear.
shoko has shifted so you're lying on your back, your head pillowed on a stack of her pillows, your legs spread wide.
gojo kneels between them, his cock pressed against your slick folds, teasing you. "you're gonna take us both. you're gonna be our pretty little cocksleeve until you can't remember your own name. think you can handle that, slut?"
the name should sting, but it doesn't. it sends a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you nod frantically, babbling out a string of "yes, yes, please, fuck me, please—"
gojo doesn't need to be told twice. he pushes in, all at once, and the stretch steals the air from your lungs.
he's so fucking big, and your walls flutter and clench around him, trying to accommodate the sudden fullness. your hands fly up to claw at his shoulders, and he hisses, a sharp, pleased sound.
"fuck, she's so tight. gonna be so good, huh? gonna milk my cock so good."
he starts moving, slow, deep strokes that make your toes curl and your eyes roll back. but then geto's hand wraps around your hip, stilling you, and his voice cuts through the fog.
"not yet. i'm not in yet."
you hear the click of a cap, feel the cool slick of lube being spread over your other, untouched hole.
you whimper, a broken, scared sound, because you've never—you've never done this before. but the fear is tangled up with so much arousal that it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.
shoko leans over you, her face swimming into view, and she presses a soft, reassuring kiss to your forehead.
"you can do it, baby. you're so strong. just breathe for me."
and then geto is pushing in, and the sensation is so overwhelming, so utterly foreign, that you scream.
it's not pain, not exactly—it's too much, too much fullness, too much stretch, your body struggling to accept two thick cocks filling you from both ends. you're pinned between them, impaled, helpless, and the tears are streaming down your face as you sob.
"there we go," geto grunts, his hands gripping your hips as he sinks deeper. "taking it so well. such a good little cocksleeve."
gojo starts moving again, a slow, deliberate grind that makes you gasp, and geto follows his rhythm. they find a pace together, one sliding in as the other pulls out, a perfect, punishing rotation that leaves no part of you empty.
the room fills with the sounds of your wet, obscene flesh slapping together, with gojo's low groans and geto's harsh breaths and your own continuous, broken litany of moans and pleas.
"please—fuck—so full, too much, can't—"
"you can," shoko says, and her voice is the only steady thing in the chaos. she shifts until she's straddling your face, her bare cunt hovering just above your lips. "you can take it. and you're gonna make me feel good too, aren't you? you're gonna eat my pussy while they fuck yours. because you're my good girl, right?"
you don't have the words to answer.
you just lift your head, your tongue darting out to lick a stripe up her slit, tasting her, wanting her. she groans, a low, throaty sound, and settles her weight down on your face.
you bury yourself in her, your tongue finding her clit, lapping at her desperately as gojo's cock pounds into you from below and geto's fucks your ass from behind. the angles are perfect, shoko's taste flooding your senses, her moans your only compass.
gojo's hands find your tits, and he immediately starts groping, squeezing, pinching. he brings one to his mouth and sucks the entire nipple inside, swirling his tongue until you're arching your back, a muffled scream escaping into shoko's cunt.
he switches to the other, giving it the same treatment, leaving them both swollen, aching, and glistening with his spit.
"fuck, your tits are perfect," he mutters, his voice muffled against your chest. "wanna live here forever."
geto spanks you.
hard.
the crack of his palm against your ass makes you jolt, and you moan against shoko's pussy as the sting blooms across your skin. he does it again, and again, until your ass is red and smarting and you're sobbing into shoko's folds with a mixture of pain and pleasure that's driving you insane.
"color?" geto asks, his voice gruff.
"green," you gasp against shoko's clit. "so green, please don't stop, please—"
they don't stop.
you lose track of time.
you lose track of everything except the rhythm, the heat, the fullness. you eat shoko's pussy like you've been starving for it, your tongue fucking into her entrance before flicking up to circle her clit, drawing desperate gasps from her lips.
every few minutes, you feel one of them stop, and you open your eyes to see geto and shoko exchanging a cigarette, taking slow, lazy puffs in between the frantic, animalistic fucking. the smoke curls in the air, mingling with the scent of sex and sweat, and it's the most decadent, depraved thing you've ever seen.
you're a mess.
your hair is plastered to your forehead, your thighs are slick with your own juices and their precum, and you can feel the first orgasm building in your gut, a coil of heat that's about to snap. you can feel them picking up the pace, both of them, hammering into you with a desperation that matches your own.
"gonna come," geto growls, his hips stuttering. "gonna fill this tight little ass up."
"me too," gojo breathes, his pace becoming erratic. "gonna pump you full, sweetheart. gonna make you so full of our cum."
and then your phone rings.
it's your designated ringtone for sukuna, and the sound cuts through the haze like a knife.
you try to ignore it, try to focus on the feeling of their cocks slamming into you, on the taste of shoko on your tongue, but it keeps ringing, shrill and insistent.
geto reaches out, his long arm stretching to grab your phone from where it's fallen on the floor. he looks at the screen, and a slow, cruel smile spreads across his face.
"well, well. speak of the devil."
he answers the call and puts it on speaker.
"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" sukuna's voice crackles through the speaker, angry, accusatory. "you thought you could just ignore me? i've been calling you for an hour, you stupid—"
gojo leans into the phone, his voice muffled because his mouth is still buried between your tits, sucking a deep, dark bruise into the soft flesh. "hey, suku. she's a little busy right now."
there's a beat of silence. "who the fuck is this?"
"it's satoru. and suguru. and shoko." gojo punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust that makes you cry out, the sound high-pitched and wanton and unmistakable. "your girl's being a real good little cocksleeve for us. you should hear the sounds she makes."
shoko leans in too, her voice lazy, unconcerned. "hi, kuna. sorry, she's kind of… occupied. can you call back later?"
and you, you can't stop. you can't stop moaning, can't stop the slutty, wanton sounds that keep pouring from your lips with every thrust. "fuck—fuck—please—gonna come—please let me come—i'm so close—"
you hear sukuna's sharp intake of breath, hear the rage and disbelief warring in his voice. "you're fucking kidding me. you're fucking—"
but you can't hear the rest, because the orgasm hits you like a freight train.
it crashes over you, rips through you, and you're screaming into shoko's pussy, your body arching off the floor as gojo and geto follow you over the edge, filling you with hot, pulsing spurts of cum. it drips from your overwhelmed holes, mixes with your own juices, puddles beneath you on the floor.
gojo's phone drops from geto's hand, clattering to the ground as they both collapse on top of you, panting, sweaty, wrecked.
the call is still connected, but no one's talking. just your heavy breathing, your broken sobs, the wet sound of their cocks pulling out of your spent, aching holes.
shoko leans down and presses a soft, tender kiss to your forehead, her voice a whisper of honey and praise.
"you did so good, baby. you're such a good girl. you deserve so much better."
and you lie there, trembling, crying, full, and you can't bring yourself to care that sukuna is still on the line, still listening. because you feel so fucking good. so used, so wanted, so perfect. you feel something that sukuna has never made you feel. not once, not ever.
well, one thing is clear. three people clearly fuck you waaaayyyy better than one.
五条 悟 ˎˊ˗ ᯓ frat!jo just loves fucking his nerdy little girlfriend while she's reading ! (m.list)
cw ˎˊ˗ ⤷ p in v sex & prone bone ── nsfw! mdni!
note: not my best work, sorry! :(
𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 2026 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧!
check out my other blog! @exorqist
you’re flat on your stomach, book open in front of you, while your boyfriend’s mean cock slams into your cunt from behind. your glasses are already lying somewhere on the floor and every thrust shoves your hips into the mattress and knocks the air out of your lungs, but he doesn’t care.
he just keeps driving deeper, hips snapping hard enough to make your ass ripple with every impact.
“read sweets,” he orders, a low moan vibrating against your ear. his hand fists in your hair, keeping your face tilted toward the page. “every word, baby. don’t stop.”
he's been making you hoarsely read out blurry words for a good hour, and your voice is shaking as you read out the next scentence. “the…the knight entered the hall—mnghhhh!”
another brutal thrust punches the rest of the line into a broken moan. he doesn’t let up. his cock drags almost all the way out before he rams back in, stretching your soaked pussy around him until your own juices are dripping down your thighs and onto his white sheets.
“keep going,” he growls, and you can practically hear the grin on his lips. the headboard knocks against the wall with every thrust. your cunt clenches around him, slick and greedy, but he only laughs and fucks you harder. “mm, don’t you dare skip a line baby.”
you swallow, eyes blurring on the text. your mind is mush, and you can barely get any words oit. “h-he… he approached the, hnghhh, throne—” your words fracture into a whimper when he grinds deep onside you, his pelvis pressing flush to your ass, cock pulsing inside your walls.
"oh baby," he coos mockingly. his breath is hot on your nape and his fingers dig into your shoulders "c'mon, you've been ignoring me 'cause of that fuckass book! i wanna know what the hell that book has that i don't!" his voice shifts into a pouty whine.
tch, jealous bastard.
he stays buried like that for a second, letting you feel every inch of his dick buried in your cunt. and before you can react, he starts thrusting into your pussy again, fast and merciless.
your voice cracks. “and…and demanded an audience with the queen—hahhhhh!” each syllable comes out shaky, interrupted by the wet slap of skin on skin and the filthy squelch of your sopping cunt taking him so well. he leans over you, chest pressed to your back, breath hot on your neck.
“louder,” he says, biting your shoulder. “i want to hear every fucking word, babycakes.”
you try again, voice hoarse. “the queen mnghh…she r-rose from her seat—oh my gooooddd!” he slams in so hard your hips lift off the bed for a second, then drops you back down, cock driving straight into that spot that makes your vision white out.
your walls flutter around him, close to breaking, but he doesn’t slow down, just keeps fucking you like some sex-deprived maniac.
“good fuckin' girl,” he pants, fucking you through it. “don’t stop until i fill you up, 'mkay? come on baby, i'm almost there.”
you choke out the next line, tears stinging your eyes from the overwhelming stretch and his relentless thrusts. the book trembles in your hands, pages crinkling so hard the page might just tear clean off.
but you keep forcing the words out between gasps and moans, your boyfriend’s cock pounding into you without mercy, making sure you don’t miss a single syllable.
his thrusts turn erratic, hips stuttering as his grip tightens in your hair. “fuuuuuck—i’m close,” he groans, voice strained. “mmmm, gonna cum deep in your cunt baby, just wait a nghh, second.”
your voice breaks completely as you force out the final words, each one punched out by the force of his cock driving into your cunt. “the queen…s-she…sshe accepteeedddd” your sentence dissolves into a moan. your lips fall open in a silent cry, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm crashes through you, pussy clenching and pulsing around his thick length, soaking the sheets beneath you.
he feels you cum and loses it, slamming in one last time and burying himself to the hilt. his cock throbs hard as he fills you up, hot cum flooding your cunt in thick spurts while he grinds against your ass, groaning your name into your shoulder. his hips jerk with each pulse, pushing his load deeper until it starts leaking out around his cock.
he collapses onto you, lips buried in the crook of your neck. he's breathing heavily, his cock slowly softening inside your hole. there's a moment of silence, filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the smell of sex.
"mm, sweets?" he mutters, grinning against your skin.
the jujutsu world needs you! yes you, to be its next pretty little pocket pussy.
sorcerers are some of the most stressed people on the planet. so jujutsu society has devised a plan that also creates ample job opportunities. with a revolutionary invention created with enough cursed energy and whoremones, portal pleasure was born. what's that, you ask? simple: a portal's created between your darling hole and a needy customer's appendage. fingers? tongue? cock? whatever they please. don't worry, your identity's never revealed to your client! can't say the same vice versa, though. . .
the pay's amazing. the pleasure's ample. how bad could it be? well, apart from being woken up in the middle of the night to the feeling of being stuffed full of cock cause the strongest came back from a midnight mission. or needing to hold yourself together on a train cause the king of curses had a bad day and is taking it out on the poor portal pussy.
even worse when you have to face clients on the daily who have no idea that you know exactly what their dick feels like. whoops.
♡ ₊˚‧ cw. so much fucking smut :: sex worker!reader :: glory hole ( I guess? ) :: p in v :: fingering :: rough sex :: f.oral :: dirty talk :: teacher!sukuna :: teacher!suguru :: sorcerer!choso :: sorcerer!higuruma :: guard!satoshi
Summary: You have been Satoru's best friend for such a long time, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. What!?!? Well, Satoru has to take a wife as he's running the Gojo corporation, and what better way to get them off his back than 'marry'? In name only, just best friends living together for a year to calm them down, sounds so perfect and uncomplicated, right!!! Well, living with Satoru Gojo makes you both question everything, is this fake marriage feeling... real? and can you just be friends after this?
CW: NSFT-MDNI- So much mutual pining and longing, not sharing feelings. This chap- making out, masturbation (toru hehe), teasing and some very kinky ass thoughts, but mostly TENSION. Eventually - Explicit sex, oral sex, it's me so a breed kink. Gonna be a miniseries, Satoru is a lil sweetie and a lil freaky ass- falls hard, ya'll both down bad. WC this Part- 7.5k
Songs for this - Lose Contol // My Boo // Friends
This was supposed to be a oneshot but it's going WAY too long, so I'm separating it into three parts! (Also ty for 5k hehe) Comments and reblogs appreciated <3
Masterlist - Part Two>>>
Part one
“You love me, right?”
You blink a bit, as you stare at Satoru Gojo, he’s been your best friend all throughout high school and even before you’ve known him. You’re sitting across from him, while he’s sipping boba with you, his Gucci shades perched on the bridge of that straight nose, a smirk on his glossy lips. You tilt your head curiously at him, of course you love Satoru, but he only pulls this when he needs a favor.
“What’d you get into this time, Toru?” You demand, he gasps then, affronted, a hand to his chest.
“Excuse me, missy? I’m just asking if you love me.”
You roll your eyes, leaning back in your seat in the little cafe. “Of course, you know I love your goofy ass.”
Satoru takes off his glasses, those swirling blue eyes wrecking you as they have all these years, usually you can put up enough of a barrier not to let them consume you, but apparently you haven’t today. You watch those snowy lashes lower when his eyes bore into you, swirling storms of bright blue, you have to snap yourself out of it.
Being Satoru Gojo’s best friend wasn’t for the weak.
“How much you love me, hmm?”
“What is it you need, an alibi?” He snorts then, shaking his head and wrapping his lips around the straw.
“M’not Suguru, shit… no, I need a really big favor. Like… the biggest favor, but if you agree, I can really make it worth your while.”
“Okay this isn’t a mobster movie, Toru, what is it?” Satoru looks down then, long fingers swirling around the top of his cup, before his eyes snap back to yours.
“What if I said I’d help you with all that student loan debt, and buy you a shiny brand new car?”
“Satoru, I don’t want your money, I do fine okay?”
“Your car is old enough to drink.”
“Fuck off!” Your glare makes him snort in laughter. “It is not, it’s like… not even old enough to vote… I don’t think.”
“It’s old, sweets. Say you also had a place to stay, for free?”
“Satoru this isn’t Pretty Woman-”
“I love that movie!”
“Satoru! What are you getting at!?” You’re crossing your arms then, raising a brow at the lanky man across from you, whose legs are spread wide in his dark blue dress pants, he’s pulling just a bit at his silky black tie.
Satoru has taken a huge role recently in his family business, the conglomerate that owned a million different things, you know how much he detests it, but once Satoru graduated college his family pushed it more and more. At this point he was thriving, doing most of the work with his father taking much more of a back seat, his health starting to deteriorate.
You and Gojo spend more time together than ever, you know he needs his friend, especially with Suguru having left for some time, the two of them not together was always hard on him. You’d been friends with both of them, but Suguru seems to have left and found his own calling, swinging through to see you both from time to time, but much is different since those days at Tokyo high.
Not you and Satoru though.
For the longest time you pined away for him, but you never made that move, aside from one stolen kiss in a closet during seven minutes in heaven, and Satoru had it bad for you all of Junior and Senior year, but the two of you never risked it, your friendship. And now you’re glad to have him in your life, but it’s hard to even think of someone serious when he’s so brightly and firmly in your life.
“This is a huge favor I need, it’s… a lot to ask.” Satoru murmurs softly, you tense a bit, brows drawing together.
“What’s wrong, is everything okay?” Your voice is a low hum as you murmur, he nods just a bit.
“Yeah it’s fine just… I’m being forced to choose a bride, and they have many candidates.” He laughs humorlessly, and your heart breaks for him.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, Satoru. I thought you’d have longer?”
“Yeah, I wish.” He runs a hand through his silky white locks, looking down for a moment, lips that always smirk or maybe pout actually frowning. “I need to just get it done, get em off my ass.”
“That doesn’t sound like you, why not tell em to fuck themselves, hmm? Where’s my Toru!?”
“He’s exhausted.” He swipes a hand across his face, and you lean closer, hand on his leg, his eyes sliding back to yours.
“Do you want me to help find someone? I have a lot of good friends in high families… find you someone not money hungry, not a psycho? How much time do you even have?”
“That’s not what I'm asking.” He puts his big hand over yours now, sighing, leaning closer to you. “I’m asking if you want to.”
“If I want to, what exactly?”
“Marry me?”
“What!?” He chuckles then, but even that sound is exhausted.
“You forget you’re from a top family, nah it’s not the Gojo clan but…”
“Satoru…”
“Just for like a bit? To get em to leave me alone, let me gain some more power. All for show, and I’ll help you with anything, I promise.” He’s clutching your hand, and suddenly the room feels like it’s spinning.
“Wh-why me? We… you… I…”
“You’re my best friend, it would be like being roommates damn near. You could… do your thing as long as you’re discrete.” He murmurs, you want to laugh then, as if you’ve done anything in a couple of years now. “And I would be discrete, respectful, we’d just be in name, appearance. We’re best friends, it will be a piece of cake, and most of all… I trust you.”
You try to digest all the information, blinking and trying not to think the insane thoughts that come with it, but you fail. “But won’t they want… an heir?”
Satoru’s cheeks flush bright pink now. “We don’t need to… I’d never ask you to do that, ever I swear. I’d never be an ass like that.”
You feel your heart racing as you shove back all of the images you should not have for your friend. “I know, I know. But… they’d-”
“That’s the thing, a year or so and they’ll back off. Give me time to fix some mistakes, with dad being sick… I’m not saying I won’t miss him, but how he is running shit? No, I know I can make things better, take down these shitty higher ups who are so greedy. You just could give me more time, and I promise I’ll do anything I can to help you too.”
“It’s insane, this is marriage!” You blink a bit, shifting, his hand now brushing back a lock of hair from your forehead, a familiar gesture that now takes on something more intimate.
“It can just be for show, we’ll be the same best friends as always. I have no one I can imagine even living with but you, maybe Suguru but… he’s not a girl.”
“He has that long silky hair?” You both laugh a little, softly then.
“He sure does, but… you’re prettier to look at.”
“Flattery? Stop that. It’s insane, and… how would we even explain it in such a rush?”
“We’ve been friends forever. Who wouldn’t believe that we got together? It’s even easier. I mean, maybe a couple kisses and things for show, but… you’ve kissed me before, remember?” He’s grinning wide then, you shove at him playfully. “That closet was cramped, hmm?”
“Oh shut it, that was so long ago. I mean, if you really need me, you know I’ll do this for you. I don’t expect you to go all out on anything for me in return.” Satoru pauses now, watching how the light streaming in through the large cafe windows hits your pretty face, as you explain to him that you’d want nothing in return for this!? For this huge imposition on your life.
You have always been the sweetest, best friend he has had, so important to him he’s never dared to cross that line, and he knows it will tempt him to no end to do this, but he also knows he can trust you. “Let me just take care of a few things for you, you can almost see it as a job. There will be events, meetings with the other leaders, trust me. Like anything I can do, you’ll be helping me so much.”
“Alright.”
“What!?”
He’s hugging you tightly to him, you giggle a bit, breathless. “Yeah, I’ll do it… I need a nice car though, Toru. A BMW?”
“I’ll get you ten BMWs.”
“Jesus, no. Silly boy.” You giggle as you look up at him, your best friend, but then your heart falters when he’s just a bit too close.
“Should we practice kissing now?” He teases, voice husky.
“Satoru, you're insufferable.”
He pouts now, and you swallow down the fact that you don’t know if you can even handle kissing his lips. “Aww you’re still such a brat, since middle school.”
“You’re the brat here.”
“Meanie.” You both stick your tongues out, and when he’s walking you over to your shitty car, he wraps you in a big hug in his strong arms, making you melt against him. “Mwah, mwah, mwah you’re the best friend ever.”
“Oh, stop.” He’s smacking kisses on your head as you inhale his cologne, sighing as you contemplate just what the fuck you’re doing. “When do we do this?” You ask, pulling back a bit and looking up at him.
“I can have things going in a couple weeks, something super simple, like I said we’ll just live our lives, just be friends, it’ll be fine. Like a really long sleepover, hmm?” He teases, grinning now, putting back on his shades.
You figure, what’s it hurt? Your apartment is shitty, your car is old, Gojo is your best friend, and you’re down to help him avoid a miserable marriage for as long as he can. You nod then, smiling. “A long sleepover.”
One week of being ‘fake married’ to Satoru Gojo, your best friend
Satoru Gojo thought he would control himself decently living with you, considering how many times you’ve slept over, how many movies you both have crashed out on the couch together. He’s seen you in bathing suits over the years, he’s caught glimpses of your pretty body of course, he knows how beautiful you are and he’s always maintained himself.
Satoru treasures you far too much to fuck it up in any way, despite the amount of times he’s almost lost it. Aside from Suguru, you have been the most important person in his life, and perhaps you’re closer now. But he can’t help but compare other girls to you over the years, and he usually makes quick work of the small relationships that he has with them.
However, what he hadn’t anticipated? Living with you walking around in your fucking panties and a crop top.
You nearly took him out the first morning you were here, when he went to brush his teeth, he has a huge house but of course you went to the main bathroom that divides his room and the room he set for you, it’s the bathroom you used when you stayed over. So he should have maybe anticipated it, but nothing prepared him for you bent over the sink, washing your face.
Your ass looked far too tempting in those damn boyshorts, half of each cheek tempting him to smack it, grab it, fucking lift you by it and slide into you. He was shocked when he was hard from the sight of it, he’s not inexperienced or not used to women, and he’s used to you, but something about the sight made him fucking feral, and he had to literally run to one of his guest bathrooms.
He now was almost used to you walking around in almost nothing, but this morning you’re in some little white tank top and he sees the outlines of the curve of your pretty tits, sees your nipples perked up, begging for his mouth. You’re wiping your eyes, yawning, using his Keurig to make coffee, smiling at him as if this is in any way normal or okay.
He gulps as you turn your attention to him, hair in a messy bun, his eyes struggle not to just stare at your body, he has to shut his mouth because it’s just slightly ajar. Satoru, a man who sees women naked frequently, fuck he has business meetings at strip clubs, nudity is nothing. But he can’t take it, take how your breasts are calling for him, how your thighs shift.
“Good morning, Toru! We have that event tonight, right?” You say sweetly, as his heart hammers in his chest, and then you feel his gaze on you, making your nipples tighten, more apparent as you look where he is now, biting your lip. “Shit, white isn’t the best color huh? How embarrassing… it’s kinda cold…”
“Yeah, cold.” He clears his throat, stepping closer, and your eyes drink him in, shirtless and built so perfect. You’ve seen him this way of course over the years, Satoru had no issue pulling his top off to work out, play a game of ball, but something about him in his soft sweats that show too much makes your brain run awry.
You should be immune to it, the god-like body Satoru Gojo has, how fucking perfect he is built, how pretty he is, but something makes your tummy heat up lately, especially when he comes closer, blue eyes lidded. “Um, I’ll make coffee?”
“Yes please.” He smiles sleepily, far too pretty, and you have to remind yourself, as you have all week, that you’re not with him, not truly.
It feels too easy, too comfy.
That was the point though.
“Got it.” You turn now, setting to put the pod in, tiptoeing to get his sugar, he chuckles deeply, reaching above you now, far too close to you, his bare chest pressing against your upper back. Your fingers grip the counters, feeling the cool granite of them, your breath catching.
“I’ll put them a little lower.” He teases, smirking as he sets them down, leaning a hip on the counter, and you smile, pretending to be calm, like your heart didn’t just beat out of your chest.
You’ve literally hugged this man every time you’ve seen him, you’ve even crashed next to him, why is he fucking with you so badly!? You suppose his presence in pieces was just easier to cope with than anything, but now your brain keeps having ridiculous images. Him having you up on that counter, your thighs spread, so intense you drop the spoon, it clatters to his tile floor.
“Shit, sorry.” You bend down, and your breath is right against him, over his thin sweats, and you look up at him, creating the worst images of his best friends he can ever imagine.
“It’s… fine.” He clears his throat, turning so you don’t see the clear evidence of what you’ve done.
“You okay, Toru? Tons of sugar, like usual?”
“Yeah.” His voice is gruff, as he glares at his cock, willing it to go down, you blink curiously at his back, wondering what’s wrong. You clear your throat again and hand him the cup, stepping next to him, he takes it, having put his cock up in the waistband of his boxers now, smiling nonchalantly. “Thanks sweets.”
“Of course! Can we go over a few things later today, before we go? I don’t wanna fuck anything up.”
“Of course we can. I also ordered you a dress and some jewelry, that cool?”
“Oh what? I have dresses, pretty ones!”
“I know, it’s really uppity bitches there though, you need something top notch.”
“Oh…” You trail off, a blush decorating your cheeks now, making you look even more tempting. “But you don’t know my size?’
Satoru brushes a tendril of hair that’s come out of your bun then, smirking just a bit. “Think I don’t know your size, sweetheart?”
“I… um…” Satoru has you flustered, dammit. “Oh?”
“Mhmm.” As if he hasn’t eyed your body a million times over. “It’ll be here later, I have to go to work for just a couple hours.” You nod then, for some odd reason wanting to kiss him, but you bite your lip instead.
“Sounds perfect, I have the day off!”
“Even better, go take a nice bath and relax before we deal with the snobby old fucks.” You giggle at him, you have always loved how he speaks of rich people, when he’s filthy rich, but Satoru? He’s very different.
He’s just…
Satoru.
Satoru’s heart doesn’t hammer in his chest, it almost falls out after he’s got his three piece pinstripe suit on, adjusting a skinny silk tie and peering at his silver Rolex, seeing what time it was, as you appear in front of him. The dress he picked out was a lacy black one, perfect for evening, but the way it hugs your every curve, the way your breasts are pressed up in that top?
You do a nervous spin, revealing your pretty back, the curve of your spine, the v neck so deep he sees hints of the dimples on your back. You turn back around, eyes glittering, enhanced with a little mascara and eyeliner, your lips the prettiest shade of red he can imagine. You look…
Beautiful.
Is that even the word?
How does he even explain it, when he’s speechless, when he feels his ears heat up at just how nervous he is to be in your presence then, eyeing a delicate gold necklace that hits just so in the hollow between your collar bones. You’re tilting your head to the side, hair falling softly in curls you’ve put it in, clutching your pretty little evening bag.
“How do I look, Toru? You look so handsome, but when don’t you.” You tease, and he tries not to look at the slit showing far too much of your pretty thigh, so tempting to slip a hand up it, find your surely pretty little pussy.
“You look…” He takes a breath, trying to act somewhat normal, smiling then. “You look… hot as fuck.”
You giggle then, rolling your eyes. “Oh whatever!”
“You look… amazing. Really.” He steps to you, giving into the temptation to brush the backs of his finger across the apple of your cheek, then across your jaw line, watching your breath catch, your red lips part, showing a hint of your little bottom row of teeth.
How would that pretty face look so fucked out?
God, it’s been a week, he needs to stop.
His hand falls, and you barely hold yourself together, breaths coming quicker and quicker. “You look beautiful, sweets. Gonna make quite the impression.” His husky admission makes you blush further, looking down and eyeing that little knot on his tie, as it’s like the entire room is holding its breath, everything so overwhelming, his nearness, his scent.
“Thank you, really for this dress. It’s so beautiful, and this.” You touch the pretty gold necklace, just making his eyes watch your pretty breasts rise and fall.
“Of course, it’s part of this, you know.” His little admission breaks you just a bit, for some insane reason, you felt like this was some date? You rein yourself in just a bit, smiling.
“Yes, but thank you. Shall we go, hubby?’
“We sure can, wifey.” You both laugh, the friendship of years prevailing finally, when you slip into the back of his limo with him, trying to ignore the feeling of his strong thigh pressing against yours, burning through the silky layer of the dress. “So remember the story?”
“Yeah, it’s easy to think of it happening, friends falling.” You then panic, as his blue eyes catch yours in the dark of the limo. “I mean-”
“No, of course it is. I’ll say that… I started falling in high school.” Because he did, god he did. After you all are about to be at the event, he notices it, your nerves, this just wasn’t your scene. “You look perfect, really.”
“Oh no…” He leans close, cupping your face, but it feels too good, your lips are too close.
“You do, gonna knock 'em dead, yeah?”
“We both will.” You smile tremulously, inhaling the night air greedily as you both walk up to the event, being ushered in. You’re clinging around his elbow as he casually goes about it, going into Mr. Gojo mode, you’ve seen him do it plenty over the years, still keeping his charm and sarcasm, but he’s just a force, the way he plays them all.
Knowing Gojo wants to take most of these people down is thrilling in its own way, you’ve always been enamored with how he fights for his principles, how real and raw he truly is with you about it. How humble when he’s come from everything, but still he knows that role he must play, and play it he does, his hand pressing on the small of your back as you two make small talk.
“I always thought of you two falling for each other.” Says your mom now, yes even your parents had to think it was true.
“I did too… so sudden though? Young love.” Gojo’s mom says, tossing back her silky long locks with a smile.
“What can I say? Your son is hard to resist, he’s so persistent. Like a cute little puppy.”
“A what!? Brat.” He’s glaring, but your parents and his mom are laughing, and you know it works, being real.
“Aren’t you two so in love?” Another person says later, as they observe Satoru placing a little peck on your temple, and he smiles with ease, not realizing the entire mess he’s making you.
“A beautiful couple. Gojo, you chose well.” One of his work friends says with a grin.
“We’re very lucky, both of us.” You say softly, stopping Gojo’s heart, when you peck a little kiss on his neck, tiptoeing in your heels, he turns then, your lips far too close, so close you taste the sweetness of his breath, and your eyes lock. “Aren’t we, Satoru?”
He blinks, realizing… you’re just helping him, and you’re nailing it. He tries to shove back the odd fluttering in his tummy, tilting your chin up. “We are lucky.”
The night ends up with plenty of dancing, plenty of schmoozing back and forth, and plenty of both of you being the perfect team. It was so easy, you both knew each other like no one else, the answers flow, the dancing flows, you’ve both danced in school before, you’ve partied together. You’ve been a plus one even as a friend.
Too natural, too perfect.
You soon need a breath, as you feel far too much as Satoru dances with a lovely girl, you recognize her, Gojo dated her and she’s a family friend. You assume she was a candidate for marriage as you recall her family ties, but seeing someone in his arms suddenly makes your heart break.
It’s only been a fucking week!? Can’t you keep it together!?
Later as you both get home, you’re taking off your shoes, wincing as the heels are off your feet, and Satoru looks at you curiously. “You okay, sweets? Kinda a long night of assholes, huh?”
“Oh it’s fine, Toru. Truly. Um… I recognized a couple girls there.”
“Yeah, they run in the same circles.” He takes off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves of that crisp white dress shirt, revealing the veins of his strong forearms, addling your mind further, how fucking attractive he is when he loosens that tie.
“Um, I know you said discrete, will you be… bringing them here?”
Satoru blinks at you, head tilting, soft white hair falling just so. “What? Bring who here?”
“Um, her, or any of the girls there really. If so I think I’ll probably… wanna know if you don’t mind? So I can make sure I’m in the room or whatever. A little notice?”
Satoru walks to you now, your head is tilted back when he hooks two fingers under your chin. “You think I am interested in them?”
“They’re beautiful. And we’re not together, so it’s fine! Just… a little notice would be cool?”
“And you, what if you bring someone over.” His jaw tenses, his words surprisingly sharp. “Will you tell me?”
You laugh softly. “That won’t even be a thing.”
“In a year?”
“It’s… never been a thing really.” You realize then, that you are almost spilling it, the fact that the entirety of your experience is one fuck in college, a two pump event that involved nothing really.
His brows draw together in disbelief. “Never? You don’t…”
“Listen, we’re best friends, but that’s private. Okay?” He nods, stepping back and rubbing the back of his neck, looking down.
“Shit I mean you date a bit though?”
“Yeah, I do. But… it’s… I need to get out of this dress.” You say then, suddenly rushing to your room, leaving Satoru’s mind whirling.
How do you think he wants anyone when you’re here killing him.
“Toru?” You lean your head out from the bathroom a few moments later.
“Yeah?”
“This is embarrassing, but the zipper is stuck, and it’s so expensive… I don’t wanna fuck the dress up.” You murmur, he smiles, feigning ease as he steps into the bathroom, peering at you in the golden gilded mirror.
“No worries, got ya. Huh it is a little stuck…” He gently tugs at the zipper, humming a big. “Um… hang on I need to pull it up a bit.”
“Sure. Be careful!”
“You’re worried about this when I could buy you ten more tomorrow.”
“Still!”
He smiles at your reflection, hand palming your bare back then, making you bite back a gasp, body shifting in desire at just the touch, your eyes shut so he can’t see them rolling back, but he sees those goosebumps everywhere. He unzips it then, revealing lacy panties that make him pause, letting the dress fall, you’re catching it at the front, gasping.
“I think I got it.” He says huskily, unable to stop his fingers from trailing up your delicate spine, blue eyes so bright in the mirror they wreck you, while you barely hold the material on. “Need any more help?”
“No! I mean… n-no.” Shit shit shit.
You’re soaked from a brush against your back!?
“Got ya.” He smiles just a bit, leaving you now, resting his back on the door, hand running across his face, curious how he’s throbbing with precum from seeing your fucking back.
Two weeks of being ‘fake married’ to Satoru Gojo, your best friend
You arrive at his work, the coworkers all greeting you so friendly, as his assistant Miwa escorts you, giving you both soft smiles. “Your wife is here Mr. Gojo.”
Satoru looks up in surprise, you’re in your pretty work dress, looking all cute and professional, holding a bento box in one hand, a boba in the other. You’re smiling brightly, as his lips part in surprise. “I had an early day and I thought I should bring some lunch?”
“Oh… oh thank you… Miwa if you could?”
“Of course, I’ll give you some privacy.” You hear her giggle and you smile at Satoru, looking as he’s leaned back in his big leather seat, smiling softly back at you, eyeing your hands.
“I get lunch made for me, shit I am lucky with my fake bride.” You snort, rolling your eyes and walking up to him, setting them on the desk.
“It seemed wifey to do? But also I really do have a short day, figured you might be hungry?”
Fuck you’re sweet.
Fuck you’re pretty.
God, you’re looking at him like that, leaned over just a bit, his eyes darting over your body that tempts him every day more and more, but your sweetness ruins him, the thoughtful nature you’ve always had, but now so geared to him. Is it all for show, he can’t believe it is when you open the bento and show him sushi, onigiri and greens placed so prettily his mouth waters.
“You ordered this, yeah?”
“No silly, I’ve been practicing. You helping me have some time off work has literally given me so much time… I hope they’re yummy? Oh, I didn’t make the boba though.”
“Why didn’t you get anything?” He asks, frowning.
“Oh I’m good, I just was dropping it off. You’re probably busy, taking down the villains huh?” Satoru’s words catch in his throat, looking you up and down again, before looking back down at the food in front of him.
“Stay a bit, it’ll… look good you know, us having lunch together.” He murmurs, lying out of his fucking teeth, as if he didn’t want to eat you then and there.
Your thighs spread, panties to the side, lapping you up?
Yummier than this. Killing him to imagine.
“Oh, um… where do I sit, over here?” You go to scooch a chair over, and he stops you.
“Nah those are heavy, come on.” He pats his thigh, earning your eyes widening, pulse fluttering as he smirks. “You’ve sat on my lap at parties plenty.”
“Y-yeah… but it’s… I…”
“C’mon, have a couple bites please, I’ll feel bad if you did all this for me and didn’t eat.”
“Satoru, you have bought me a new wardrobe and a car, can’t I make some sushi?”
“Sit.”
You sigh, it’s true you’ve sat on his lap, but the past two weeks of constantly being wet around him are taking their toll. You smile brightly, sitting on one of his thighs, praying he can’t feel it, the heat from your pussy as you’re pressed on a muscled thigh, and he’s picking up sushi with chopsticks, popping one in his mouth and moaning, rolling his eyes.
“Fuck that’s yummy. You made it for real!?” You giggle, nodding and trying to be more comfortable, it’s your Toru, right?
“It’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. That’s got eel sauce on it, this one is the spicy crab.”
“You like spicy crab, here.” He pops one to your lips, and something feels too intimate, on his lap like this. “Open.”
Open.
Open!?
The pictures of you hearing him that while on your knees makes your cunt dribble, you shift nervously, clearing your throat.
“Open, silly.”
You do as he says, as he pops the roll in your mouth, and you chew, feeling the flavor hit your tongue, he grins now, popping another into his mouth, and you wonder if it’s easy for him to be this way. He’s so natural at it, sipping his boba and humming happily, all while his thigh presses where you’ve been aching for him, forcing yourself not to touch your pussy to the thought of him.
You can’t do that, it’s fucked.
You try to get up, and he presses you down, big hand on your waist, far too close when he leans the thick straw to your lips. “Take a sip, it’s so good.”
“Oh… um sure. Thank you.” You take a sip, lips pressing where his had, and he can’t stop focusing on how good your lips look, wrapping as you suck, cheeks hollowing and making his cock twitch.
You both sit there then, staring at each other, breaths coming just a little too quick from you, as he sets the drink down, but you stay on his lap. “Y’know… the event tonight, we should probably actually kiss? There will be cameras all over.”
“Kiss!?” He laughs then, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I mean it’s kind of part of it. You’re comfy with it right, not gonna fall head over heels.”
“Psh.” You already have, long ago, it’s all fucking hitting. “You’re so cocky, Toru I swear.”
“I can’t help it, my lips are so talented, you know. Makes girls fall.” He brushes his silky hair back, winking at you then, and you swear you can hear your heart in your goddamn ears.
“I remember you were pretty good.”
“Yeah, you remember?”
“Yeah it… was my first kiss.” You mumble then, looking away, sipping his boba nervously, he blinks rapidly, blue eyes wide in shock.
“What now!?”
“No biggie, we were like seventeen…”
“But you… never told me?”
“It was embarrassing.” Satoru’s mind races to that night, as does yours, as you sit in his office, just the hum of the fan and soft music playing from his little device, staring at each other, both in a haze.
You and Satoru Gojo were thrown in a closet together, you’re sighing as you’re pressed against him, peeking at your phone in the dark to see the time. Being too close to Satoru wreaked havoc on your brains at times, though you have known him so long, you couldn’t lie and act like you didn’t think of things… kissing him, maybe dating him? But you know they’re silly thoughts.
“Don’t freak out, we’ll just let 'em think we made out.” He says now, and you turn your eyes up to him, adjusting in the dark, but even here you can see the glint of those bright baby blues.
“Y-yeah. You’ve kissed plenty, though.”
“You haven’t really?”
“Um, no.”
Satoru’s gently turning you to him now, tilting your chin up while his eyes adjust to see your pretty face, you’re thankful it’s so dark that he couldn’t see your blush. “We could practice, you know.”
“Satoru!”
“What? A little practice between friends? You know you wanna kiss me.” He taunts, teasing tone as he grins.
“No way!”
“Not at all? I’m hurt, sweets.”
“Oh whatever, it'd be weird, we’re too close. Do you kiss Suguru?”
“Oh yeah, have you seen him?”
You both laugh then, when he leans down just a bit. “Well, if you kissed Suguru, I feel left out now.”
“We can’t have that. Show me what you do know, I’ll advise.”
“Kissing expert, hmm?”
“Mhmm.” You lean up then, as he bends down, your arms wrapping around his neck, you pause as his hands press against your waist, making your heart race. “Ya scared?”
“No! Goofy ass.” He’s chuckling until you lean up, pulling him down for a kiss, and your lips meet for the first time.
Your first kiss.
He pauses, your lips connecting just do something. Satoru at seventeen had done plenty of make out sessions, but they were fun, something to do, exciting at times, but nothing prepared him for it. For your sweet lips on him, tingling them, his heart beating in his chest.
Satoru falters, and he never falters.
He doesn’t slip his tongue in, he doesn’t pull you close, he freezes, so in shock at how good it feels, how right it feels. You ease back, nervous then, clearing your throat, as he hasn’t moved his lips. “I’m sorry I’m not…”
Satoru yanks you against him then, pressing your body on his, kissing you over and over, so deeply, taking your breath away, you’ve never felt something like this, you’re trembling as you feel his tongue slip against the seam of your lips. “Open them up for me.”
This isn’t silly Satoru, goofy ass friend, his husky declaration destroys you, and he uses the gasp to slip his tongue inside, swirling with yours, igniting something between you that night that you will both avoid talking about for years. When he presses you against the closet door, sighing into your lips, and you’re being picked up in his arms, as your mouths move over each other.
You both pull back, gasping as the timer goes off.
What was that!?
“If I’d known it was your first kiss, maybe I wouldn’t have… gotten so excited.” He says with a little pink on his cheeks.
“No, you didn’t cross any lines, Toru. Don’t worry.”
He wants to laugh, because oh, he wanted to.
If he’d had more time he’s sure he’d have lost it, whatever control he has now he did not have as a seventeen year old. “Was it a good one at least?”
“The best a girl could have.” You say softly, smiling at him then, making his heart race when you both sit there, far too close, and he swears he can feel your heat against the hand that’s on your thigh.
“I know I’m pretty amazing hmm?” He teases, trying to hide the raging storm inside of him, you giggle, shaking your head and standing finally.
“You’re a conceited little shit.”
“Hey!?”
You’re both back at ease, as he stands now too, looming so tall over you, his presence making it hard to remember why you’re here. “I should go.”
“We should practice, though, yeah?”
“I mean… you think we’re that rusty?” You try to feign ease, he smiles then.
“Yeah, we gotta be. We’ll bump our heads together or some shit.”
“Okay… um…” You take a sip of his boba then, clearing your throat and smiling up at him. “Let’s practice.”
Satoru brushes his thumb across your chin, your ass pressed against his desk and you’re pinned between it and him, your hands sliding up his starch white dress shirt slowly, eyes lowering to his glossy lips. He presses a kiss against your lips, and you then know it, more than ever.
Nothing is like kissing Satoru.
Nothing is like his lips making contact with yours, as your eyes close, the feeling of him working his lips over you so gently, making you tremble, making you ache in ways you have tried to hide, to avoid. He pulls back, cupping your face and exhaling, his snowy lashes low over cerulean eyes, his lips parted just so, as you both stare at each other, speechless.
You don’t know if he’s as affected, and neither does he.
“How’s that?” He asks softly, and you lean up, your fingers enwrapping in his hair, as two of his hands bar you on either side.
“Maybe one or two more? To look natural.” You whisper, and you expect a smirk, or something cocky, conceited, but he slams his lips on yours now.
His tongue is swirling against yours in moments, as you both devour each other, hungry and needy, kissing each other desperate, messy now. A kiss like you’ve never had, as his hands press against your hips, then he lifts you on the desk, your thighs around his hips, making you cry out. The sound causes him to lose any semblance of control, he’s biting your lower lip, moaning into your mouth.
“Mmm!” Your hands pull his hair now, as his slip up your bare thighs, and then you feel it, the hardness under his slacks against your heat, your panties already sticky and damp, and you pull back with a gasp.
Your eyes shoot up to his when you break apart for just a moment, and Satoru’s breath is coming in little pants, his fingers scrunching your skirt up your hips, yanking you closer. You whimper now, head falling to the side, and he’s kissing down the side of your neck, your breasts pressing against his chest, dying for him inside you, as he’s ready to fuck you right on his desk.
“Satoru… what are-” You’re trying to whisper when his lips find the shell of your ear.
“I need-”
Knock knock knock.
You both pull back, his eyes dilated to the point they’re dark, his hands still on your bare skin, as his eyes dart down your body. “Yes?” He manages gruffly.
“Twenty minutes until your meeting Mr. Gojo.” You hear, and he curses softly, turning away, trying to calm his nerves, his racing heart, all while you’re hopping down, trying to pull yourself together.
You’re almost darting out of the door when he sees you. “Shit, please…”
“No, no. We um… were practicing?” You manage to whisper, as his hand is over yours on the knob. “I got carried away.”
He laughs, without humor. “You did?”
“I did. I’m sorry I don’t even do this.”
“Just how… inexperienced are you?” He asks softly.
“A lot.”
Because she can’t help but compare every man to Satoru Gojo.
“Well, you can’t tell, you’re an amazing kisser.” You blush furiously, looking down, biting your lower lip.
“You don’t have to say it.”
“You are, shit. My god.” He brushes your hair off the side of your neck, exhaling, breath tickling you, setting your body on fire.
“Thank you, so are you. We will be good to go tonight, you think?” You whisper, so nervous to say what you want to, and he pauses, clearing his throat, his hand falling off your shoulder now.
“We’ll kill it. Thank you again for lunch.”
“Of course.” You brightly smile, trying to remember.
It’s fake, it’s fake, it’s fake.
As you’re repeating it in your head, Satoru is struggling to not lift your skirt up and fuck into you right on this door, he wouldn’t care if the entire office heard you scream his goddamn name. When you slip out the door he rests his head on it, the cool wood doing nothing to his overheated skin, hands clenching into his fists as he tries to calm himself.
What was that, what is that with you both?
He promised he would be respectful, he has to try to rein it all in, he has to make sure your friendship isn’t ruined because he can’t stop himself. Satoru tells himself that as he wills his cock to go down, but he can’t stop himself, soon he’s stroking it right in that seat, remembering feeling your pussy pressing against his length.
God he needs you, he shuts his eyes, imagining sinking inside you while he twists his hand up and down his length, desperate for any relief. He had some regulars he would call back in the day, but not only does it feel so wrong to do so, he doesn’t want anyone but you, he can’t even put a vision in his mind but you.
‘It’s fine, baby girl you can take me’ he murmurs softly, snowy lashes shut as he imagines fucking into you, stretching you god he bets you’re so tight, and he could feel that warmth, imagining you as he spits down on his pretty cock.
His pink tip is oozing precum while his head rests back in his office chair, he can still smell your scent, that shampoo you use, the body spray you have worn since high school, it’s you. He’d kiss every inch of your body, have you so ready you beg for him, fuck you so good tears pool in your pretty eyes, he can damn near feel is as his hand strokes faster and faster.
He lets out a soft groan, muttering a ‘that’s it, you’re so wet f’me, huh?’ to the very image of you on that desk, tasting your sweetness on his lips, while he pinches his tip, the precum and spit wetting his cock enough that the sound of him stroking fills his office. His breath quickens as he thinks of shoving your thighs up high, slamming into your cervix, ruining you.
As he cums white hot spurts all over his palm he cries out softly, the release feeling so good, he’s fought it, touching himself to you, but he can’t anymore. He quickly cleans up, panicking as he sees what he’s done, jerked off to one of his best friend’s in the world, someone who trusts him, and he’s not even holding himself together for shit now.
He exhaustedly leans his head against the desk as his alarm for the next meeting starts, struggling to remember this isn’t real, but his cock sure didn’t fucking realize that, and by the time he’s home and he sees you all dressed up for the next event? He almost has to go jerk off again.
You’re smiling all nervous in this beautiful glittering gown, and he’s once again speechless, trying to pull together his usual charm, but it falls flat. You look at him, concern clear on your features. “Everything okay Satoru?”
“Of course it is. Look at you.” He smiles, putting on the best show he can, as you wonder if you’ve over thought that kiss, he just seems so normal really.
Maybe he just got carried away, should you act normal too?But how can you, when just the brush of his hand on the small of your back shoots desire straight through your body. It’s only been two weeks, how could you hold out an entire year?
Sooo to have written this in a oneshot would have been INSANE but expect the next two parts very quicklyyy ;) Gojo is DOWN BAD my god- smut in the next hehe.
⠀ ⠀⠀ — fem! reader x situationship! gojo , angst, suggestive content, cursing, gojo is toxic (boooo)
pt. 2 here!
⟢ 𝗆𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌: i know im gonna make some people tingle with this cliff hanger but it adds drama if u get what i mean… universal experience to all us pretty girls and a RATTY TOXIC MAN. if u want a pt2 lmk to tag u in the comments :3
Summary - You bribe your best friend Satoru Gojo with Digimon Merch into pretending to date you for your sister's wedding. In order to get your parents off your back about being a loner, you feel they'd buy it - you've been friends forever, after all. You all go full out, fake kisses, and sharing a bed - problem is that you both have feelings that are far too real.
Warnings - fluffy and cute, idiots in love, thigh riding, a fk ton of sexual tension, Toru being sweet, nerdjo mention. Oral ( f receiving) reader is a virgin, so first time with Toru (yay!) girl on top hehe, fingering, teasing, creampie, multiple orgasms, talking you through it -happy end of course! Oneshot - wc- 13k
This won the poll for the 25k event! thank you all so much for following me and being so amazing <3 got a girl blushing!
“Come on, please?” You tug at Satoru Gojo’s dark blue jacket, pouting up at him, he just rolls his pretty blue eyes.
“Don’t you make that face, I won’t give in this time.”
“I’ll buy you so much Digimon merch!” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Toru!”
“Don’t you ‘Toru’ me,” he crosses his arms, leaning back in the seat – the two of you are in a little cafe together, the one you meet up at once a month. It used to be once a week, but life has gotten ahold of you all pretty good, now that you are twenty three and out of college, both so busy it’s hard.
Satoru’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember, and you never want to lose him.
“Toru…”
“Stop using that to your advantage,” he looks at you again, pouting with those glossy lips of his. “You know I always do anything when you give the puppy eyes.”
“Pretty please,” you bat your lashes, so cute Satoru can’t say no. He was going to relent anyway, but he loves to get you going.
“Oh fine.”
“Yay!” You hug him tightly, that way you always do that makes it difficult to hug you back, you’re too close, pressed against him, making him feel too much.
Satoru’s been close to you forever, he can’t lose you because you’re just so pretty, you smell so good. Can’t lose you because your touch makes him ache more and more over the years. All of that, bad ideas, especially when you’re one of the closest people to him. His hand comes to the small of your back, inhaling the sweetness of your shampoo, letting it fill his senses.
“Are you sniffing me?”
“Huh, what? No.” Satoru so was, you pull back and giggle all cute, eyes lit up when you kiss his cheek. His hands tense, shoving you playfully. “Yuck.”
“Oh what, I still have cooties?” You raise a brow at him, he shivers in feigned disgust.
“Worse than ever now.”
“Psh,” you sip your drink, his thigh is brushing against yours, and you don’t move away like you should. Satoru’s body feels far too good against yours.
Your parents seem to think you’re hopeless, since you really haven’t ever dated, but how can you, when Satoru exists? It’s a hopeless state of affairs, loving someone you’re so close to, literally in the damn sandbox together. Even if you crossed that line – Satoru’s never shown any interest.
How embarrassing would that be?
“Maybe it will be fun, you think of that?” You tease, trying to feign a little more ease than you have.
“You just wanna lay in bed with me,” Satoru brushes his hair back and winks, grinning when you glare at him. “Admit it.”
“Yeah, never happening - but we will have to share the room to make it believable for sure.”
“Are they really on your case that bad?” You wrap your lips around your straw, addling Satoru’s senses so badly he can’t even look at you.
The feelings just grow more and more, and pretending to date you would just make him want what he shouldn’t. “They are on my case, they think I’m just wasting away and gonna be a cat lady.”
“You do give cat lady energy.”
“Hey!”
He’s chuckling now, sipping on his own drink, you watch how the sunlight filters in through the window, casting shadows across the hard planes of his face.
Sometimes Satoru is just too handsome for his own good.
“Did you hear me?” He waves a hand in front of your face, and you realize you spaced out looking at his lips too long.
“Sorry, what?”
“How much Digimon merch?” You laugh, shaking your head just a bit.
“However much you want, but you’ll have to be very convincing, you’ll have to kiss me and everything,” you tease, smacking your lips at him, he tenses a bit then, picturing his lips all over his best friend. “Will it be that bad?”
“The worst,” his voice is soft, hoarse with desire that he almost lets spill from his lips. “Bet you suck at it.”
“Bet I’m better than you,” you lean close, far too close, a hand on his chest then, looking up at him under your lashes, his heart races just a bit even as he puts on a casual smirk. “Wanna practice?”
“I’ll require so much merch, in fact you’ll have to come to the con with me – all dressed up as one – if you want a kiss before I have to.”
“You’re so bratty, Satoru Gojo,” he exhales when you pull back, realizing he’s now throbbing under his damn jeans in a coffee shop with his best friend. “Fine, we’ll wait until we have to.”
“We’re staying three days, right?”
“Yes, mom and dad love you anyway.”
“How will you break it to them when they find out it’s not real?” You wrack your brain, sighing then.
“I’ll think of something, but at least for this wedding, I'll be in your debt forever.”
“That’s tempting, I can’t wait to take advantage.” You both laugh, and Satoru tries to figure out just how he’s going to handle ‘pretending’ with you.
*****
“I’m never letting you drive again.”
“I wasn’t that bad!” Satoru pouts at you, damn near running out of the car when you all step out.
“Horrible, god how’d you get a licence,” you glare, and he snatches your keys up, holding them high. “Hah! Can’t reach?”
“Who can, you giant!” You’re hopping while he laughs, but then your tits just bounce too much, so he falters, letting you tug his arm down. “Got 'em!”
Satoru tries not to focus on that, quickly looking away and rubbing the back of his neck, the last thing he needs to do is let his gaze linger longer than it should. “You really almost killed me, I’m driving back.”
“That’s fine, eight hours sucked anyway,” you stretch just a bit, and so does he, turning and avoiding how your shirt lifts just a bit. “Are you ready for this?”
You walk up next to him, he’s snatched up your bags on one shoulder, you hold his other hand, feeling it tense in your grip. He pauses, looking down at you then, gripping your hand just a little tighter, memories flashing of all the times he’d snatched your hand and run out of class when you were younger. Why does it feel so different now that you’re both older?
“Make it look real, remember? I have the merch all picked out,” you wave your phone around just a bit, earning him squeezing your hands just a bit. “There you go, we got this yeah?”
“Yeah…” You both walk up and are greeted with your very surprised parents, the house just full of your entire family, all bustling and fussing over your sister and all the planning. “Hey there.”
“Satoru Gojo!” Your mom tugs him in for a hug, your dad snatches the bags and sets them down in the living room. “Look at you, you’re taller!?”
“I know,” he laughs a bit, slipping up his black shades to rest on those snowy locks, while your dad hugs him too. “Hey pops. Ah, hey sis.”
Your sister comes out, hugging you tightly, then peeking over at Satoru. “Gojo, you finally admitted you’re in love huh?”
“What!?” He pulls back, your dad and mom are laughing behind their hands, and you mouth to Satoru silently.
Remember!?
Digimon!
“Oh, hah – yeah I guess we really have been in love,” he snatches you up, arm wrapping around your shoulders, smacking a kiss on your cheek. He feels it warm under his lips quickly, the little breath catching in his ears. “Aren’t we, pookie?”
Pookie, huh?
You wanna laugh at that, but you instead put a hand on his chest and tiptoe, giving him a kiss on his chin. You wonder if you’re imagining the blush that decorates his cheeks for just a moment, but it’s distracted by all the commotion.
“You’re finally dating someone!”
“Mom!?”
“I’m just so happy baby,” you want to fall into a hole, as aunts, uncles and cousins all come to just express their surprise. Satoru’s snickering so you decide to ‘accidentally’ stomp his foot, earning your six foot four friend hopping one one foot.
“Oops, sorry baby.” Satoru’s so gonna get revenge later on you, with your bratty little smile.
“It’s fine, sweet sugar bear!” You almost snort out loud, he smacks a kiss on your cheek and damn near slobbers on you.
It’s a flurry of action while everyone sinks their teeth into Satoru and you, all nosy and curious, many of them making comments like you’re an old maid when you’re still young. Your family is a little too traditional, and they’re all in love with Satoru so much you’re damn near ignored, he eats up the attention like he always does at these sort of things.
You can’t say anything about it, Satoru’s parents have been so distant his entire life, you actually love that your family is so close to him.
“Do you wanna freshen up before dinner?” Your mom asks, you nod gratefully. “Perfect, we set up a room for you two.”
“Um… one room?” You ask, seeing Satoru chuckling, slinging an arm around your neck.
“Show us the room, mama.”
“Of course Toru!” You roll your eyes a bit, no one loves Satoru as much as your mom does – aside from you.
But you can’t admit that.
A part of you starts enjoying just how easy it would be to make this a part of your life, at least this aspect, your family, and likely all of your friends. Yet you know fully that it’s a bit of a show, yet it makes your mind drift off – imagining too much, so much so you almost bump right into his back when you all come to a stop in front of the stairs.
“Oof!”
“Clumsy,” he teases, catching you before you tumble back with ease, one arm shooting up and wrapping around you. “Clumsy little pookiekins.”
Oh jesus.
Does he have to feel this good?
Your mom leads you up the stairs, their new house is still a little unfamiliar, you’ve only been there a couple of times since they moved. It’s a pretty room you’ve slept in before when you stayed, cream colored walls and perfectly clean, even the little throw pillows are all arranged. “Do you need extra pillows, Satoru?”
“No, that’s perfect, I appreciate it.” Your mom doesn’t ask you if you need anything, but then she’s always loved Satoru – you joke that it’s more than she loves you all the time.
“The shower is right in there,” she points to where the room connects to a little bathroom. “Get washed up for dinner, I’m ordering your favorite Satoru.”
“Um, hi? What about me?” Satoru is snorting practically.
“Honey, you know I’m just excited, I haven’t seen Satoru in a year!”
“I see how it is.” You narrow your eyes, earning your mom kissing you on the cheek.
“I will order your favorite dessert.”
“I’m an afterthought.” She laughs and shuts the door, leaving the two of you alone, Satoru sobering up just a bit as he sits on the bed, you turn and look at him then, suddenly feeling so nervous.
He’d spent plenty of nights on the floor or couch at your childhood home, but not in the same bed, taking it over when he lays down, crossing one ankle over the other. “Nap time.”
“Nap time, huh?” You sigh and scooch his big body over, lying down next to him, yawning just a bit when you snuggle against the pillow. “I’m tired too.”
“Are you?” You nod, eyes fluttering shut, leaving Satoru to study you carefully. “You think they bought it?”
“With ease,” you snuggle a little too close to him, making his heart race in his chest, fingers itching to caress your cheek. You look at him with sleepy eyes, breath right against him, tickling his neck. “They were convinced I had a crush on you when we were younger, sis tortured me about it.”
“Aww, that’s because I’m so pretty,” Satoru bats his long snowy lashes, you snort a bit, whacking him with one of the pillows. “What, not gonna admit it?”
“You’re conceited is what you are,” he smacks you with a pillow hard then, you gasp, getting on your knees and whacking him back. “You’re also the biggest brat to exist.”
“That’s you! Hah, and you’re weak.” Satoru yanks the pillow from your grip, tossing it on the floor and then smacking you with one again. “Can’t win against me, can you?”
“Don’t count me out, ruining my nap!” You hop down on the floor, grabbing it and hitting him right in his pretty face. “I’ll make your face prettier.”
“Swear to god-” You pounce on him, the bed springs creak just a bit, while you smack him again, only for him to yank you down and start tickling you. “Hah, I know all your spots.”
“Stop, stop!” You’re trying to get out of his grip, the tickles on your waist too much, you can’t stop laughing, wriggling until somehow…
You land right on top of him.
Satoru’s laughing softly, before he realizes it, that you’re straddling his lap, thighs pressed on either side, and your heat is against him. You’re still giggling, his fingers pausing then, looking down nervously and swallowing. “What is it, my turn?”
You lean over and begin to run your fingertips teasingly over his lower abdomen, he’s always ticklish there, but he just grips your hands in his hold, not making a sound. You blink a bit in confusion, breathless from the battle – one you both frequently had as kids – until you feel it.
You follow his suddenly intense gaze down, to where he’s pressed against you, hard and thickening by the moment, your breaths come even quicker, hands still in his grip as you feel him. Your eyes both lock then, his dilated in a way you’ve never seen, lips parted just so, and it’s not like he’s ever looked at you.
You should get up, you should move right? Yet you’re stuck there, unable to do more than blink rapidly and open your lips to say something, anything at all, but both of you don’t speak. The silly laughter has quit spilling from your lips, left with hot desire clenching your tummy at the sensation – at just how good Satoru feels against your cunt, aching for more.
You try not to roll your hips, you try not to shift, when he lets go of your wrists, and his hands slide down, across to your hips, an exhale escaping his mouth. You watch his chest rise and fall with his breaths, his fingers curling around the curve of each hip, and you realize you’re soaking wet embarrassingly fast.
“Satoru, I’m sorry…” You shift to move, earning a little moan from his throat, cock leaking pre against his boxers as his cock insistently nudges between your lips, just your panties as a barrier.
“Fuck, don’t… don’t move,” he whispers then, you tense, struggling to just stay still. “You’re making it worse.”
“Making… what worse?” He sighs, leaning up on his elbows, your breaths both mingling together, in a way that makes you question everything.
Could Satoru feel the same?
He doesn’t speak, instead he gently presses you down, watching your eyelashes flutter, your hands gripping his shirt so tightly the material is balling up in your grip. You move your hips just a bit, making him groan again, ever so softly, noses touching, foreheads resting together. You swallow, throat gone dry at what you feel, the nerves, the desire, the worry for ruining the most important relationship you have.
“Toru, um- ah!” You jump when your sister just opens the fucking door, and you fall right off the bed with a thud since Satoru jumps too, like two kids caught.
“We were… talking!?” Satoru covers his bulge with a pillow, and your sister just bursts out laughing, wearing a tiara and a sash that says bride to be.
“Get out!” You throw a pillow at her, knocking her tiara clean off, Satoru would laugh but he’s still throbbing and it fucking hurts.
How would he ‘pretend’ to kiss you!?
“Rude, it’s my wedding you know.”
“Why are you barging in?”
“I wanna see my sis and her pookie,” she’s giggling, while you start shoving her out the door. “Don’t you miss me?”
“Not really, annoying little sisters still suck, even when they get married.” She winks over at Satoru now, laughter still coming out and making you heat up in embarrassment.
“Looks like you two are next, I could feel the tension!”
“Out!” You shove her unceremoniously, resting your back and the door and huffing, you’re far too cute like that, and doing nothing for his situation. Your eyes meet his, before you look down a bit, pushing off the door to stand. “Sorry, she’s as much of a menace as ever.”
“She certainly is,” he teases, smiling a bit at you and feigning ease. “Um… I’m sorry that…”
“No, no it’s cool, um… it’s just a normal reaction for a guy, right?” You’re so clueless you wouldn’t even know. “Aren’t you experienced?”
“Callin’ me a slut?” He raises a brow.
“Not a virgin, is all.”
“You’re… are you…” You blush furiously, this whole thing is more embarrassing every freaking second. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” You sink down and cover your face, Satoru wills his damn cock to fully go down so he can get up, but he’s toxic and thinking of having you first.
Stop that, stop it, go down.
Down boy.
He finally just adjusts it up into his waistband and comes up to you, sitting right on the plush carpet and wrapping an arm around you. “Why be embarrassed, what’s wrong if you’re picky?”
“I’m twenty three, that’s what’s wrong,” you peek at him then, and he just looks too good in that moment, your body still throbbing from sitting on him. “I’m the forty year old virgin.”
“You are not,” he’s snorting in laughter, playfully pulling you close, tilting two fingers under your chin. “I could fix that for you.”
You pause just a moment, lips parted, eyes wide.
“What!?”
“I was kidding,” he lets your chin go, before raising a brow. “Unless?”
“You’re annoying!” He gets shoved away, laughing at himself like he’s just so funny, but all he does is embarrass you more, confuse you more.
What dumb idea was this?
“Do we need to practice kissing too?”
“I’ve kissed, you know.” Why are Satoru’s lips so glossy?
“Plant one on me, rockstar,” he taps his lips with that annoying smirk of his. “Don't want the first to be in front of them, what if they know?”
“Oh fine, you brat,” Satoru smooches his lips all dramatically, when you get on your knees, hands on his shoulders. “Pucker up then.”
“I'm scared!?” You both laugh then, you've always been so comfortable with each other, until your lips land on his.
You both pull back, his hand slipping up your back. Your lips tingle, this little shock you can't explain, looking down at glossy lips. “There, I kissed you.”
“You did, a little peck. That's all you know?”
“You're an ass,” he chuckles, trying to ease the tension, but you felt too good. “I can kiss.”
“Lemme see, bet I'm better.”
“You always think you're the best at everything,” you roll your eyes, then your little hands are on either side of his face, kissing him deeply. He exhales, tongue slipping against the seam of your lips, you damn near squeak, pulling back quickly with a gasp. “What're you doing?”
“Kissing you,” he captures your lips again, hungry as he pours all of the desire he's had into it, tilting his head to the side to dive deeper. You’re trembling, hands gripping in fists at your sides, struggling to collect yourself. Your tongue moves back against his, lashes fluttering shut, letting him drink up your little sighs.
His hand entangles in your hair, tongue dancing along your teeth, his taste so sweet it’s intoxicating. Slipping closer, a hand on his thigh, letting him overtake you completely, gripping his thigh and clinging for some sense of normalcy. Whatever you’ve imagined this kiss would be like over the years couldn’t have prepared you – your heart hammering, desire clenching your tummy.
He pulls back a bit, just as lost as you it seems, but only a moment – then it’s a little smirk and a raised brow. “Mmm. That's how you kiss.”
“Not in front of people you don't,” you stare up at him, dazed, seeing a blush form on his own cheeks. “You wanna have your tongue in my throat in front of them?”
“What!? No… I was showing you for… later.”
“Later.”
“Mmm,” he brushes the air next to your cheek before he gets up quickly, clearing his throat. “I need um… a shower.”
“Right, go ahead,” he darts to the bathroom, leaving your legs trembling, your lips tingling from him. Just what was that!?
****
“So, when did you two know you were in love?” Satoru almost spits out his drink the same time you do, simultaneously panicking and looking at each other.
“We didn’t figure out a story!” You whisper in his ear, trying to look like you’re being loving, a hand on his thigh driving him to insanity.
“Well, she confessed her love to me,” you scowl, Satoru holds your hand with a devious grin, keeping it on a well muscled thigh that’s fucking your sense. “She told me she’d loved me since… let’s see, kindergarten!”
“Called that,” your sister says, snuggling up to her fiance while she sips on champagne. “She said you were - the cutest boy she ever- hey!?”
“That’s quite enough,” you mumble, launching a little garlic knot at her head, Satoru’s snickering and it’s hard to pretend you don’t wanna punch him. “So yeah, kindergarten, but he’s the one who confessed first.”
“I did?” You stomp his foot, he hisses and scowls. “Oh yeah, I did… I told her I love how mean she is.”
“That’s an odd love confession,” your mom says, looking between you both with an amused expression. Satoru kicks you back under the table and you yelp. “Are you two… good?”
“So good mom! Aren’t we Toru?” You nuzzle his cheek but that little act makes his heart race, his stomach tense from just how good it feels. “Answer.”
Your whisper reminds him of the goal here, he smiles and turns then, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, and the two of you freeze. You’d practiced in the room, he was curious if it was the nerves of the first time together, but nothing felt like that, like the sweetness of your lips under his, eyes looking right at him in shock when he wraps an arm around you.
“Aw!” They’re all cooing over you both, Satoru pulls back and you both fail to compose yourselves for just a moment, before Satoru grins.
“We are good, aren’t we pookie?” He murmurs, you shake yourself out of it, remembering what you’re doing here.
“Yes, for sure. When is the rehearsal dinner?” You ask, looking at your sister now, who launches a garlic knot back at you. “Hey!”
“You started it,” you both stick your tongues out at each other. Satoru snatches the flung knot and pops it in his mouth, sighing.
“Yummy.”
You giggle at that, but he licks the buttery garlic off his lips and fucks up your head instead. You’re trembling just a bit at his tongue rushing across his lips, yeah it affected you before – you’ve had it bad for Satoru for a long time, but now it was even worse than before.
“Want a bite, little shnookums?” Satoru teases, forking the spaghetti and swirling it around. You go to say no when he raises his brows.
“Oh, of course pookiekins!” He snorts just a bit in laughter, but when your lips wrap it and you take it in your mouth?
Fuck.
You have just a little sauce on the corner of your lips – Satoru wipes it without thinking, making your eyes dart up to his contact. “You’re messy, sugar shnookums.”
“Thank you, pookie bear.” You murmur teasingly, ignoring how good his fingers feel on your face.
“Oh you two are disgustingly in love,” your sister makes a face, Satoru just feeds you another fork full. “When are you gonna pop the question?”
“It’s new!?” You say in between bites – at this point Satoru is feeding you. Your aunt and uncle start going on and on about how much they love him – who doesn’t love Satoru?
The plan is working perfectly, they aren’t bothering you about dating someone, and they buy the friends to lovers story easily. Overall, it’s already a big success, which Satoru can’t help but gloat about when you step into the room, wearing your pajamas, which are just a shirt of Satoru’s you stole and a little pair of shorts.
He pauses as you step out of that bathroom, running a brush through your hair, the lights soft from behind you, making your skin look that much prettier, every inch revealed where that shirt hits mid thigh glowing. Your nipples are pressed against the thin, soft material, he struggles to rip his eyes off them.
You can’t get your eyes off him either, just wearing a pair of sweats with little digimon all over them and nothing else - chest bare. You’re used to that, his chiseled frame and narrow torso, however right now it makes you press your thighs together just a bit, tension so thick in the air it’s hard to even breathe.
Act normal.
This isn’t real.
“You stole my shirt?” He breaks that silence, raising a thin brow at you, you manage an eye roll, heading over to the bed and lifting the cover.
“Of course I did,” it makes you feel close to him, god it smells like him. “I love your bougie ass shirts, so comfy.”
“Tch,” you giggle, looking far too cute when you snuggle, and Satoru hesitates just a bit. “You want me to sleep on the ground?”
“No, no that’d be so rude, we can share right?” He eyes the bed again, sighing at how narrow it is.
He’d be pressed against you if he turned one wrong way.
Satoru slips in under the blankets next to you, laying on his back, studying your face carefully before flicking off the lamp on the bedside. “Think they bought it?”
You look at him, yawning a bit. “I do, pookiekins.”
Satoru snorts in laughter, ruffling your hair annoyingly, you smack at his hand and sit up a bit. “What’s the plan when you have to tell them the truth?”
You frown a bit then, brows drawing together. “I haven’t thought that far, I hope it won’t hurt them…”
“Can’t pretend forever, y’know,” you nod a bit, turning back to your side now, ass damn near touching him, making his heart thrum in his chest. “We can just tell them we’d rather stay friends?”
“We could,” your fingers trace the sheets in front of you, contemplative while the soft cotton runs under your fingers. “Don’t worry I won’t make you keep doing this or anything, I know it’s already annoying.”
“It’s…” not annoying. “I actually…” love this too much. “It’s not a big deal, you’d do the same for me.”
You look back with a pretty little smile – almost a sad one, making him contemplate that expression far too much. “Of course I’d be your fake girlfriend.”
“Aww, we’re bonding,” he rests on his side, grinning at you, making something in your heart flip before you turn back around. “What if I kick you off the bed by accident?”
“Psh, wouldn’t be an accident, you’re evil,” Satoru chuckles, feigning an ease he no longer feels, when your shoulders gently move up and down, falling asleep quickly. “Night Toru.”
“G’night…”
He slips the covers over your shoulders as you fade out.
One bed.
You’re both sleeping in the same bed.
Satoru can inhale your scent, feel the heat of your body when you're so close, hear your light little snore, and everything in him aches to tug you closer, to feel you against him. How would it feel to hold you in his arms? It’s like you belong there, truly, he can’t imagine how you’re not then, how he restraints himself.
Life moved on for you both, once inseparable, but you both always made time for each other, whereas when he’s had break ups, it was done for good. Satoru can’t risk losing you just because he can’t hold back anymore, he has to remember you just wanted to get your parents off your back, and that the kisses were just for show.
Everything changed when your lips met.
His fingers hover just a couple inches away from where the blanket covers your skin, tracing the curve of your hip, where he'd love to tug you against him, wrap his arm, before he lets it fall and turns to face the other side.
It's impossible to fall asleep next to you and not hold you.
*****
You wake up with Satoru Gojo’s heavy arm and thigh wrapped around you like a monkey, trapping you down with his heavy weight. You wriggle just a bit, blinking sleep out of your eyes while soft light filters in through the slots of the blinds.
Turning, you see his Adam's apple, his chin, pulling back to look up at him, far too pretty to exist. His snowy lashes are long and lush, the sharp plane of his jaw illuminated by the sun, his plump lips just the tiniest bit parted. He shifts just a bit when you try to disentangle yourself, a hand pressing on your lower tummy and tugging you against him.
That’s then his thigh comes between yours, and the hard muscles press against your cunt, you gasp and wriggle again, only enhancing how fucking good he feels. Satoru murmurs your name softly, you worry he’s awake - but he’s still knocked out, while you’re drooling down his bare skin.
Fuck.
You push at his big ass arms, ignoring how good those biceps feel underneath your fingertips, but Satoru just increases how tightly he’s squeezing you, burying his face against your neck like you’re a body pillow. You’d laugh if you weren’t stupidly wet against your best friend in the world.
“Satoru, wake up,” you manage to murmur, despite him squeezing you so tightly you can’t breathe damn near. You take several breaths, shutting your eyes and trying to ignore how good it feels here. This was your idea – to fake date, to put yourself in a position like this, acting as if your feelings were gone.
They’re clearly more prevalent than ever.
He shifts once more, his scent enwrapping you just like his long limbs do, steady thrum of his heart and his deep breaths against your back moving ever so slowly, pressing his thigh higher. At this point it feels so good you can’t help but flutter your eyes shut, just stuck with him, biting your lip to try to hold back a filthy little moan when your slit drags against him.
Fuck, stop moving!
“Hmm,” he’s humming in his sleep, hand slipping up now until one grips your breast. “So soft.”
“Satoru!” You smack at his hand, hissing damn near when he squishes it in his grip, just making you wetter. “Get off!”
Satoru finally stirs away, realizing just how compromised your position was, blinking sleep out of his eyes and leaning up, feeling your soft breast in his hand, your heat against his thigh. He’s already throbbing just waking up, but then he feels you dripping against him? He sucks in a breath, frozen behind you, hand no longer gripping but not moving.
“Shit,” he grumbles, pulling his hand off reluctantly, ignoring the fact that your nipple grazed his palm like it did. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re suffocating me,” you shove his arm off you, but his leg stays, and you heat up when you realize how wet you got, embarrassingly so and there was no denying it. “I um… you’re… it’s…”
“Natural,” he murmurs softly, sleep making his voice raspy, making the situation a million times worse between your thighs. “I must have just wrapped around you, I usually hug like three pillows.”
“Yeah,” you can’t say anything else, his hand hovers over your hip, not touching but sitting there. He pulls back a bit, eliciting a whimper from your throat before you can stop yourself, covering your mouth and shutting your eyes. “Let the earth fucking swallow me now.”
He laughs just a bit, hand finally settling on your thigh, pressing it up against his hard muscles again, pressing right up between your folds. You look back at him with a glare, his smirk widening. “Need some help?”
“I swear I’ll beat you,” your lashes flutter when he moves again. “I didn’t make fun of you yesterday.”
“You were wet then too,” you glare now, just looking far too pretty. “Do you need me to take care of you?”
“Take care of… you’re Satoru and… fuck stop that!” You’re whining out again, slamming a hand on your mouth again, when his hand drags you on your thigh. “This is mortifying.”
“Been a while?” He’s acting like he’s not dying, leaking so much pre his shorts are stuck to him, an easy grin on his face.
“You’re a dick,” you sigh, burying your face in your hand now. “Your fake boyfriend skills do not need to extend to this.”
“I see, you don’t need any help at all,” he brushes his thigh up again, pushing down on your hip so you’re grinding on him now, you’re trembling, wanting to punch him as much as you want to hump his leg. “You could use me while I’m here.”
“Use you?” You look back at him, shifting your hips and watching his pupils widen, the only sign he’s affected at all.
“Mmm, could be a perk of the fake dating.”
“Fake orgasms?” You tease, then he leans low, lips almost brushing yours. Your heart hammers in your chest, you know he’s teasing you, but it’s impossible to maintain any calm right now.
“No, they’d be very real,” Satoru’s fingers slip up a bare thigh under the blanket that’s all askew and half kicked off, keeping that smirk on even though if he touches your pussy he’ll probably just cum. “I can show you how and everything, what are friends for?”
“You think I don’t masturbate because I’m a virgin?” It’s his turn to barely be able to form a sentence. “Just because no one has gotten me off doesn’t mean I don’t.”
“Ah,” the thought of you touching your pretty pussy is enough to make him bust and leak out all over that ass nestled against him. “So you’re good then, no need for my best friend services?”
“You joke too much!” You turn and shove him, until he flops off the bed, scowling up at you, you just giggle, trying to forget the fact that you humped his leg damn near. “Stop playing.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he stays on the floor, just leaned back on his hands, legs crossed at the ankles, studying you, suddenly quiet.
“What is it?”
Satoru opens his lips, then shuts them, then opens again. “It’s just that… I didn’t agree to this for-”
“Who’s ready for a shopping trip!?” Your sister annoyingly bangs on the door, you roll your eyes and shake your head, getting up and walking over to open it before looking over at Gojo.
“What was it, Toru?” You ask softly, he stands then, looking far too good when you study his muscled back, making you ache in ways you can’t admit.
Satoru was going to tell you he didn’t agree to this for ‘merch’ or just because you two were best friends.
He wants more, he wants this to be real. Fitting in with your family like a glove, feeling loved from you and them, the closeness you two share that leaves a void any time he ever tries to date. What you don’t realize is he has been dying to get the courage to ask you out, but he’s always hit one road block.
Losing this forever.
Best friends can get through anything, but relationships scatter, they fall apart – they drift away, and he can’t imagine not having you near.
“What is it?” You’re smiling curiously, but he just shakes his head.
“It’s nothing,” he pats your head with a sad little smile, making the inner workings of your brain fire off in a myriad of signals. “Better get that.”
“Right,” your sister soon drags you out to shop, bombarding you about Satoru while he relaxes at home with your parents.
“Should we get lingerie?”
“Oh god,” you’re grumbling when you two pass a lingerie store, the mannequins up front wearing the most delicate lace that covers nothing. “No way.”
“Don’t you two…” You’re a flustered mess, your sister’s brows raising. “You’re not fucking yet?”
“Shut up!?” You cover her mouth, embarrassingly looking around to see who is within ear shot, she’s laughing against your palm.
“He must be a gentleman, well I’ll get you the sluttiest-”
“We’re here for you, not me, I already have my dress.”
“I’m the bride,” you roll your eyes at her. “What I say goes. Ooh! That screams - fuck me daddy.”
“I’m so done with you,” you’re laughing though, your sister is anything if not a fucking trip, younger and more experienced, a free bird truly. “Fine, one outfit.”
“Yay!”
*****
“Make a toast!” Everyone is urging you that afternoon at the rehearsal dinner. As the maid of honor you absolutely had to do just that, prepare the first toast.
You look over at Satoru, who’s sipping on champagne while you all sit around the banquet table, his Adam's apple bobs with his swallowing of the bubbly, fruity concoction. You smile at him, earning his little wink that just didn’t feel fake at all, a hand squeezing above your knee gently.
How could you separate what’s for show, what’s friendship, and what could be…
More?
Shaking that off, you focus on the bride and groom to be instead, who are both nuzzling each other’s noses. They’re sickeningly cute, naturally doing the things you and Satoru are pretending to, the longing fills you then and you despise it. You should be happy for her, not envious because you’re scared you’ll ever get that.
Not when Satoru exists.
“I’d like to toast to our soon to be newlyweds. To the two lovebirds, who have shown us all what it means to love someone unconditionally, and who have had the nerve to make it look easy,” your sister gets a little teared up then. “I don’t know how you deal with her crazy ass – but you do it well.”
“Hey!” They’re all laughing a bit, you smile over at her.
“I love you, and I love to see your relationship blossom,” a little more serious again, everyone settles in. “You both make me want that love.”
Satoru’s heart hammers in his chest while he watches you, in that pretty pink dress you’re wearing, the same shade as the blossoms decorated along the white tablecloth. You’re soft like this, usually so feisty and cracking jokes – this is a more serious side of you, the side that’s always pulled him in and intrigued him.
He’s avidly listening to every word that lingers from your lips, lost in how much he wishes they were for him, about him. He puts on a perfunctory laugh when he has to, mingling in with your family, trying to ignore how perfect and easy it all feels, but everything was easy with you, it always had been.
It was terrifying, how easy it was to hold you in his arms.
“How’d I do?” You whisper, leaning close – too close.
He gives you that easy grin, leaning over to press a kiss on your cheek, feeling it warm under his lips. “You did great sugar plum.”
You snort at the nickname, but all you can think is one thing –
You should have taken him up on his offer.
Soon the dance instructor is guiding all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen, along with your sister and her groom, but they of course set their sights right on you and Satoru. You could swear your sister was part demon – how could she at one moment shove you both together, then the other quite literally cockblock, you’ll never know.
“Dance you two,” your sister practically shoves you and Satoru to the wide space in the banquet hall, and the instructor steps up. “They don’t know how to dance, can you give them the basics?”
“Says who!?” You and Satoru demand at the same time, she snickers a bit.
“Says me seeing you two awkwardly shuffle every school dance.” You and Satoru flush then, he clears his throat a bit when the dancer takes his hand.
“One on her waist,” he murmurs, all seductive with some french accent that makes this all the more intimate. “And one on her hand, like this. Ah, so romantic!”
Satoru looks at your entwined fingers for a moment, how his hand swallows yours with his long, thick fingers, before he looks down into your eyes, seeing how dark they’ve gotten. Your heart races so quickly he can feel it when the instructor presses you both close together, his fingers squeezing your waist just a bit, feeling your skin burning underneath your dress.
“Ah, that is young love,” he blinks back tears, you’re so embarrassed then, even emotional when your mom is almost crying. You start to feel terrible for this little game, knowing it will hurt them.
You were so selfish, dragging Satoru in this too, who’s looking at you with those blue eyes that you could never figure out the shade of, holding your hand in his while pressing you against his firm, hard frame. You’re hardly able to form a word or a typical joke you two usually share, not like this, not when you believe this dance instructor’s flowery words.
Love.
You’ve loved Satoru for so long in so many ways, as a friend, as damn near family, as a confidant. Yet the love keeps changing, shifting and just growing with every moment you exist next to him, drinking up every bit of what Satoru Gojo had to offer – which was so much, too much.
Over the years watching him date, you tried your best to remain detached, and he never let your friendship go. You have been a priority to him since you both made friends on that playground back in first grade, he makes you feel so…
Special, seen, heard.
Even when he’s joking, teasing or annoying you, he’s been there to hold you when you cry, to distract you from your low times, whether he helped you study or he just sat there next to you in the quiet. Yet he never crossed the line, never even touched you like he has this week, in your little game that feels too perfect, making you realize that you’ll never have this with someone.
How could you feel this, the length of time you’ve known each other, the comfortability even as you’re physically on edge. The familiarity when he spins you on the floor tentatively, you misstep just a bit, yet he catches you with ease. He always has caught you in your clumsy bouts, usually teasing or making fun, but when his arm wraps your waist?
He’s too stunned to think.
You already look too pretty in that dress, you’re so serious tonight – not the goofy girl he usually spends his days with. That flush that spreads across your cheeks and nose, the lights dancing across your bare skin in that dress, he avoids looking too fucking long at it, at the pretty necklace resting between your collarbones.
He wants to trail his lips across them – then lower, to the pretty breasts he had in his hand this morning, the mere memory almost makes him misstep, narrowly catching himself beforehand. You look up at him as if you’ll say something, the eyes of the entire rehearsal dinner on you, before you look back down at his chest, worrying your lower lip with your teeth.
“Am I a good partner, sugar bear?” He teases, lightening the mood then, you sigh and plaster on a smile and a nod, but it feels fake.
This is fake.
Why are you so absorbed, so lost in the cerulean depths that look down at you, twinkling just a bit with playfulness, yet when they briefly sweep down across your chest, you heat up under their gaze. Satoru spins you as instructed, bringing your back against him, hands joined while you look at each other, ending the dance.
Everyone is clapping, earning the slight embarrassment of the two of you, but it’s worse when your mom pulls you aside, hugging you tightly. “I’m so happy for you, to see you both so in love.”
Ouch.
You’re gonna hurt her.
You’re gonna hurt yourself.
You and Satoru sit through the rest of that dinner with ease, his arm casually thrown over your chair, leaning close to pull off the roll that will be done soon. You don’t want this to end, the way he treats you, looks at you – as if he truly does feel the way he’s merely pretending to.
“Everything all right?” You look at him then, concern on his features. At your little nod his lips press together, eyes narrowing. “No you’re not.”
He knows you too fucking well.
“I’m good, promise!” You put a hand on his thigh and squeeze just a bit, smiling brightly up at him.
He doesn’t buy it of course.
*****
Later that night back at home your family is still enjoying drinks and talking, you two are thoroughly exhausted. Satoru is setting up blankets and pillows on the floor, you guiltily sit in the bed, tugging the covers up to cover your chest and sitting up. It’s probably fucking better he does lay on the floor for your own sanity, yet you can’t stand the thought of not enjoying him in your bed for this short amount of time.
“Satoru, I can take the floor.”
“No way I let you do that,” he looks up at you, shirtless and wearing his pajama pants only, the way that makes you ache. “I clearly in my sleep grab your tits and cling like a monkey.”
“Yes you do,” you laugh a bit, and so does he, self deprecating as always, then a quietness settles in the room. “We could put a pillow between us?”
“I’ll probably still attack,” he’s teasing, eyes glittering with humor. “Should probably keep me on the floor.
You want him in bed.
You want him to ‘help’ you, as he called it just this morning, taunting and teasing you until you almost begged him. Yet you can’t just blurt that out – what part had been kidding, and what was serious? What crossed the line with the two of you anymore, could things just be at some ‘friendship’ level truly? Or would it just ruin everything to have a taste of him?
“Is it because I was so wet?” The word almost makes him whimper, eyeing you with those baby blues gone round.
“Is it… huh!?”
You press your legs together, looking away nervously. “Wet, I was soaking wet on you this morning.”
He swallows then – as if he needed a fucking reminder, as if he didn’t desperately run his finger down his own thigh and lap your juices clean off it the moment he was away. Sucking it so desperately and pathetically it was damn near laughable, just how badly he wanted you.
Why do you have to look so pretty on that damn bed?
“No, no that didn’t bother me at all,” he rubs the back of his neck, cursing the way you make him feel like that nerdy little boy he was the first time he ever tried to kiss you, way back during junior prom. The sweaty palms, the shaky hands, the awkward shifting of his feet. “I promise.”
You exhale, shutting your eyes. “I am making things all so weird.”
“You’re not,” you cover your face then, wincing a little bit at yourself. “Hey, promise you aren’t.”
The bed sinks underneath his weight, Satoru sits next to you – brushing your hair back softly, before grabbing your wrists and lowering your hands, making you meet his gaze. It’s quiet, so quiet you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the gentle sound of his breathing mingling with your own.
“Your offer to help, is that off the table?” Satoru almost cums at the mere thought of touching you, but he’s so in shock he just stares, mouth wide open, until you feel so embarrassed. “Shit, forget I said that…”
“What do you need help with?” His voice is hoarse, just a bit scratchy, he clears his throat, still holding your hand, thumb brushing across your knuckles.
“Won’t it make it awkward, weird? I don’t want to fuck our friendship up, ever Satoru. It’s important to me.”
He cups your face gently. “Tell me what you want,” his raspy command almost destroys your resolve. “I’ll give you it.
You almost say – ‘fuck me please’ – Almost.
“Some relief you have so graciously offered,” you tease him a little, hand slipping up and down his chest. “I could return it.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He’s staring at your mouth now, picturing it wrapping his cock for a moment, then he pictures busting inside your mouth in one fucking second. He quickly shoves that idea out the window, he damn sure wasn’t gonna waste the moment he’s been waiting for since high school being embarrassed.
Your lips would feel so good. He shakes that off, pushing your back down on the bed and spreading your thighs before you can think. You gasp, his arms on either side of you, silky white locks falling over a brow, so close you feel his heart thrumming against your breasts, feel his heavy weight, touch burning your thighs, fingers pressing in.
“Satoru?” You manage a whisper, his hands slip up under his own shirt you stole, biting back a gasp when he realizes.
“Nothing under this?” You flush, looking down now. “Look at me.”
Fuck.
You just follow what he says when he’s like this, all the years of sweet nerdy best friend Satoru culminate in the man before you – still every bit Satoru Gojo – but this side of him you have never seen. A side you imagined so often, but nothing even prepared you for his fingers gliding up your thighs, causing them to tremble, slick dripping from your cunt from just the proximity.
“I’ll never not be here for you,” he whispers softly, as if sensing your every fear. “If you want to have a little experience with me, I’ll gladly give it and expect nothing in return.”
Your throat goes dry. “But why?”
“Why?” He reveals your cunt then, bare and glistening for his view, failing to control his hands from gripping you so tight you wince, from exhaling at how pretty it is. “Fuck… why what?”
“Why would you?”
“Hah, why would I?” He doesn’t even know where to begin to answer your nonsense.
“You’re looking at it!”
He laughs softly, nodding then, eyes affixed to how pretty your pussy is, touch trailing along your inner thigh, at the apex of it. “You want me to stop?”
“No.”
Your eyes are locked, his fingers grazing little trails up and down smooth skin, until he almost touches your core, teasing but not fully, making you throb with need. “Then tell me what you want me to do.”
“Make me cum – oh my god I just said that! Out loud!?” You cover your mouth and he almost bursts into laughter, even as he’s pressing his cock against the bed for friction, at how cute you are, instead his lips quirk up.
“Shh, want your parents to know I’ve got you spread wide?” His words are too much, the way he says them, the way he moves lower, so low you tug at his hair. “Do you not want that?”
“You’re… down there… and…”
“It’s so pretty.”
You ease a bit at those words, eyes shutting in relief, Satoru sees the tension ease just a bit. “It is?”
“God, yes.”
You swallow nervously, breaths coming in little pants. “We will always be in each other’s lives, this won’t fuck it all up, will it?”
Satoru kisses your thigh then, tongue flicking up to lap up a little of the slick that’s dripped down, a sensual mark of his saliva glittering when he pulls back. “I’d never let you out of my life. You think I’d not be your friend?”
“Just can’t lose you,” you whisper, before moaning softly, the sound so sensual Satoru almost can’t handle it. “I thought you could um… finger me?”
“I can do that too,” he kisses even higher, breathy moans escaping his lips. “But I am very, very fucking good at this.”
“The best at everything, hmm?” You manage to tease, acting like his nose brushing up your folds wasn’t almost enough to end you, your fingers gripping the sheets underneath you.
“I am the best at everything, it’s true,” he smiles all devious and cute, while your hands slip up his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense underneath your touch. “Wouldn’t I be the best friend in the world if you came on my mouth?”
Your own mouth goes dry, your answer lifting and spreading your thighs for him, he inhales your scent still looking at you. “I want you to, please.”
Satoru uses this as the permission to do something he’s been dying to for as long as he’s known what it is – to lick your pussy, the prettiest one, the yummiest one, a stripe straight up your slit. He maintains eye contact, you’re struggling to keep them open, his tongue soaking up the juices that start pouring then, until the tip of his tongue flicks your little clit.
“Ah!” He shushes you with a little shh that tickles you more, your teeth grip your lip, watching your best friend start lapping at your cunt. “Oh my god…”
“Mmm,” Satoru’s tongue is filthy as it runs up and down your slit, collecting every drop like it’s precious – and it is to him. The taste of you on his thigh hadn’t come close to this, to just how sweet you were going down his throat. He eyes you, parting your folds, watching your face screw up in pleasure, brows drawing together.
Best friends just don’t eat pussy like this.
He’s fucking you with that tongue, nose bumping your clit that’s aching for more, twitching in response, and you know this is so dumb, you know there’s no coming back from having those blue eyes look at you like that. Signing your death sentence – your cat lady sentence – with three more flicks, until the wet muscle is gripped by your gummy walls.
“Satoru,” you’re whispering out his name, struggling to hold back all the moans that threaten, instead releasing them in little shaky spurts under your breath. Your core is tightening with every fuck of his tongue, gasps escaping your lips when he shoves your thighs up, smiling down at you for a moment.
“Hold ‘em up f’me.”
You’re so exposed, holding your thighs as he orders, opening up even more for him, he moans at the sight, pressing messy kisses to your clit now, over and over in little circles, causing your hips to jerk. He smacks your cunt, looking down at you under those snowy lashes, lips coated in your gloss.
“Stay still,” he swirls two fingers in that arousal that’s pouring, running them up and down your slit ever so slowly, inching them and stretching you out. “Fuck, you’re so tight…”
“Mnh…” You are gripping him too much, he eases his fingers out with a wet sound that echoes, spreading you wide again and spitting right on your cunt, using that to sink his fingers back in.
“Better?” He murmurs, you nod quickly, eyes rolling back in your skull. Fingers pressing up on that soft spot over and over, earning your weak little mewl as a response, he smirks down at you. “That’s a yes, I take it.”
You nod again, words escape you, how can you talk when he’s flicking his tongue over your clit and moaning against your skin?
He’s so focused, so intense, his blue eyes never leaving yours, even as his mouth works you over with a hunger you never knew he had, one he’s just held back. You’re mad anyone ever got this. Stupid thoughts, selfish and greedy, your fingers now entangling and tugging at his hair, just making his moans vibrate on your little clit again, sending jolts of pleasure up your body.
Satoru’s thick fingers slide in and out with greater ease despite how fucking long they are, curling inside you, pressing that spot that makes you want to scream out – barely muffling it with teeth that are sinking into your lower lip. His tongue is relentless, swirling around your clit, then flattening to give it a firm lick that almost undoes you completely.
“Taste so good, fuck,” he whispers then he fucking just dives back down.
The ecstasy makes you weak while the pressure builds, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, your thighs start to tremble while you hold them up and he adds a third finger, stretching you even more, filling you up until you can’t take it anymore. You arch your back, your hands tightening their grip on your thighs as you open more for him, gasping out.
“You’re close, huh sweetheart?” The way that word feels, the way he’s watching you, fingers still pumping in and out.
“Please, Toru,” Satoru almost cums at that little plea, so sweet and pliant, holding your thighs up like a good girl. He presses a kiss on one of them, rutting his cock against the mattress for any pressure.
“Mmm, then cum for me.”
Like some obeyed command it hits, your pussy clamps down on his fingers, pulsing around them as you ride it out, screaming into your palm, white hot stars behind your eyelids. You’re barely able to contain those pornographic little moans, so sensitive you’re jerking when he pulls those fingers out.
He doesn’t stop, though, continuing to lick and suck you hungrily, desperately, drawing out every last bit of your climax until you’re a writhing mess, twitching underneath him, clinging to his hair to pull him off. Satoru’s so drunk off your taste, your scent - you.
He almost can’t unlatch his mouth until he realizes how overstimulated you are, your aftershocks die down but he slips a finger back in just to feel you pulse, moaning softly before he finally slips it back out, plush lips giving your clit one last gentle kiss before sitting back and sliding up.
“So, how amazing am I, hmm?” He drags out those words, chin coated in your slick, you swipe some of it off just for him to nip at your thumb.
“Fuck… you are amazing at it,” you earn his dopey grin, he licks the rest of you off his lips, making you flush. “Don’t get so cocky.”
“I knew you’d admit it,” he eases your shirt down, your fingers trail across his abdomen, watching the muscles tense, tentatively touching him. He grips your wrist then, shaking his head. “You don’t have to do all that.”
“Don’t you want me to?” You ask curiously, his gaze zones in on your mouth again, picturing just brushing his tip on it and cumming.
“In what world wouldn’t I? But I don’t want to overwhelm you, you’re a cute little virgin you know,” he taps your nose, chuckling at your glare. “Pussy is perfect, in case you ever worry.”
“Oh,” you snuggle up to him while he wraps an arm around you. “Thank you, that was insane…”
“I’m at your service.”
“More figures incoming.”
He chuckles, hugging you tightly, you feel so good in his embrace, as you both feign an ease you don’t feel. “Are you all right with what happened?”
“Yes, very,” you look back and smile sleepily. “Are you?”
“Mmhmm,” he can’t very well say he’d die to be inside you, he doesn’t want to push this too far, unsure of where you all stand. “I’ll miss this weekend.”
It’s quiet, save for your breaths.
You shift a bit, hand running up and down his veiny forearm, tracing a few of them, hearing the hitch in his rhythm. “I’ll miss it too.”
Satoru just holds you tightly, inhaling your scent in his lungs and sighing. “Are you excited for the wedding?”
“Very, they’re so happy, you know?” You yawn a bit, it’s too comfy here, so comfy you wonder if you’ll ever sleep good again, knowing he’s here.
“They are,” he leaves it quiet, scared and unsure what to say, aside from murmuring - “Good night.”
“Night, Toru.”
Satoru can hardly sleep, remembering the way you felt underneath him, it takes a while to let himself drift, when he knows that he won’t get you in his arms again, and he just wants to savor every moment. You’re lightly snoring, turning to face him, slinging an arm around his waist, your cheek against his chest.
He just holds you close, studying a face too precious, wishing he wasn’t so afraid to just admit what he feels.
*****
You woke up in Satoru’s arms again this morning, and it felt far, far too good to be there.
You’re not even sure where you stand with him, exactly what last night was for you both, but you know it wasn’t normal to feel that way. It went beyond any pleasure or skill, the way you fucking felt when that man looked at you was inexplicable. Not just a product of beautiful eyes, no there was something in the way you felt last night that’s lingering.
You heat up with the memory even now, you’re both at your sister’s reception – the game is almost over, the show is almost done. You’re struggling to keep it together when you watch your sister dance with your dad, when you watch your new brother in law dance with your mom, then with each other.
Love.
You love your best friend, Satoru Gojo, and you knew going into this how bad it would hurt, yet you set yourself up like a glutton for punishment. This morning he’d smiled so sweet, teasing you and joking before you all were basically summoned with the sheer insane amount of things that had to be done before this wedding began.
It was too perfect being held by him, as much as you loved him licking you, you loved him holding you, grinning against your skin. He was in full ‘fake boyfriend’ mode, full best friend mode, just being Satoru Gojo, the boy you’ve always known. Yet now there was more shared between you both, more than you can even comprehend and it fucking scares you.
A boy from your childhood strikes up a conversation while many of your old friends go talk to Gojo, a part of growing up together meant you both knew almost everyone here. The boy asks you to dance, holding out his hand then, you hesitate though, looking over at Gojo, who’s watching you while he sips on his drink.
What were you two?
You’re overthinking it, maybe it was just fun for him, maybe it was curiosity that had him worshipping you like that. You eye his glossy lips across the elegant ballroom, him in this sleek black suit looking far too handsome, so handsome he takes your fucking breath away.
You can’t do this.
You can’t stand to see a girl’s hand on his shoulder, something you’ve seen plenty of times before, but now it was different. Now it didn’t feel okay, it didn’t feel right, and you know it’s foolish. You smile and let the boy lead you out, trying to remember that this was all ending tomorrow night, and would just be a memory.
Satoru can’t stand to see you in someone’s arms.
He almost crushes the glass in his hand before he sets it down, catching your gaze when the boy is stumbling damn near, probably due to how pretty you are. And god you’re beautiful under these lights, glimmering off your hair that’s all done up, the dress molding to your body in soft, shimmery satin, making him want to fucking rip it off you then and there.
Last night meant too much – was it just experimental for you, just that you trusted him to be your first in that way, comfortability? He was overthinking it, he knows that when he is dancing right across from you, hand on a waist he doesn’t want, other hand entwined with a hand that’s not yours.
It fucking hurts.
He got a taste of what could be his, and he’ll play it off like it’s fine, like you two are just the best friends in the world and he wasn’t hopelessly in love.
You look up at your sister dancing, she’s getting bent over her new husband’s arm, giggling and waving at you. You smile at her, wanting to feel more joy and not this envy, before your eyes lock back to Gojo’s seeing him spin her in his arms. You don’t expect it to hurt like it does in that moment, to see his arm around someone else’s waist.
He’s looking at you over her shoulder, blue eyes lowering just a bit.
Your heart shatters.
Your mom comes up to you, smiling and cupping your face then, “I feel soon we will be planning your wedding.”
You pause, mouth opening then shutting, tears burning the back of your eyes, when you realize you’ll have to hurt her. You’ll have to hurt them all, because you’re so fucking selfish, and mostly you’ve hurt yourself. Getting a taste of what it would mean to have the boy you’ve loved for as long as you can remember, being greedy with all of those tastes.
Satoru would move on from this, live his life, but you’re not sure you can, how do you get over him, over his touches, his kisses? How he held you, how he looked down into your eyes? Even now, he’s watching you, like he’d rather dance with you in his arms – utter nonsense in your fucking head.
You’re mistaking it all.
“Honey, are you crying?” Your mom frowns, brushing her fingers up and down your cheek, and you realize you are.
“The wedding, it got me so emotional, um…” You’re lying through your fucking teeth right now. “Can I have some air?”
“Of course,” she looks at you concerned when you run out. Satoru excuses himself and rushes to her curiously. “I think this wedding is making her a little emotional, Satoru.”
“Yeah, I’ll go check on her, okay?” He touches her shoulder affectionately, she nods and he rushes out, seeing it’s drizzling out – looking at your retreating form in that frilly pink dress just standing against the lit gazebo, head resting on one of the wooden pillars. “You’re gonna get sick out here, it’s gonna downpour soon.”
“I’m fine,” your voice is weak and hoarse, and Satoru swallows down the pain he feels when you look at him. “Go have fun, this is almost over, you don’t have to ruin opportunities.”
“Ruin what now?” His teeth clench together, the rain spattering gently over the two of you, dripping down his hair as it pummels you. “You danced with someone too.”
“Yeah, I did, that’s what we should do. Right?” Satoru’s hands come to grip your shoulders, chilled from the night air, the lights from the gazebo dancing across your skin.
“Is it what we should do? Is it what you want?”
“It’s what you want.”
“You don’t even know what I want,” he presses your back against that wood pillar now, a hand against it braced, taking the pummeling rain on his dress coat to protect you, making you cry even more. “Was last night the only time?”
“Was it… you want to do it again?” You’re heated up, looking down shyly. “I thought you regretted it.”
“Regretted? Hah,” Satoru tilts your chin up now, making your eyes meet his, brushing a thumb over your lip. “All I regretted last night was not sinking my cock inside you.”
“Satoru…” You blink tears down your cheeks, a hand coming to his chest, he takes it and holds it close, while your body responds. “But it means too much, I can’t just do that as a… friend.”
“So be more,” he lifts you before you can blink, holding you with one arm around your hips like it’s nothing, carrying you up those steps. “And stop getting soaked, unless it’s from me touching you.”
“Fuck,” you grip his face, kissing him deeply, he sets you down, walking you back until the backs of your legs brush against the bench. “Toru…”
“I love you, okay?” Satoru’s voice is muffled by the pounding rain on the gazebo that shelters you both, droplets of water slipping down his skin, you’re sobbing then, so overwhelmed. “I have loved you.”
“I love you, so fucking much, it’s why I’ve never…” You trail off, he’s leaning down and cupping your face, studying you with eyes glassy with emotion. “There is no one for me when you exist.”
He kisses you deeply at that, you shiver as he slips your straps down, eyeing the pretty white lace and exhaling. “You’re wearing that underneath this?”
You say nothing, speechless as Satoru tugs your sopping wet dress down your chest, pulling out a pretty tit and moaning. You gasp out when he sits down, pulling you to straddle him, sucking one nipple hungrily in his mouth. Hands entangle in damp white locks, heat building, that heat that’s pressed against his thick cock, pressing so insistently.
“Wanna bury myself inside you,” he murmurs, looking drunk off you, sucking on the other nipple, his hands slipping across your hips. “I want her to know my shape only.”
“Satoru,” you kiss him again, he’s hastily slipping that dress up over your hips, sinking two fingers in with ease. “Ah!”
“Soaked,” he whispers in wonder, curling them up and looking up at you the way only he does. “Stop me before I fuck you the first time in this gazebo.”
“I don’t want to stop,” your whisper is met with a sharp whine, fingers curling in your messy hole. “Want more.”
“Want me to eat you out again?” He whispers, pumping those fingers while you hastily undo his zipper. “Fuck, you need more prep, don’t pull him out, I’ll fucking shove it so deep.”
“Good, do it,” he’s whimpering when you touch him, stroking your hand up and down, finding that pre and swirling your finger. “He’s so pretty.”
“Don’t praise me too,” he huffs, you manage a little giggle, and in that moment – you all are still best friends, every bit of the comfortability – but there’s more. So much more. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You would never,” he pulls out his fingers, sucking them and moaning out at your taste, before kissing you again.
“You wanna take me?”
You’re a flustered mess now, overheated and damp from the rain, chest rising and falling while lightning flashes all around you both. “The first time?”
“I’ll help you,” he grips his cock at the base, running that velvety tip against your soaking wet cunt, moaning. “You can take as much as you want of me this way, I won’t hurt you.”
You’re emotional again, how much he cares. You’re kissing him while tears fall, rocking against his tip while he whispers your name. “Ah!”
You’re barely taking the tip, stretching your cunt out so good, the burn something you’ve never felt. You pull back to look down at him, his hands are gripping your hips under your dress, thumbs pressing into your pelvis, the sweet ache and pressure building, he eases you up a bit, then down, sucking in a few inches of him, your head falls back, scream echoing quietly in the rain.
“You all right, sweetheart?” He kisses up your collarbone, cock wrapped by your tiny little cunt, already milking him.
“Need help getting… it in…” He exhales, lifting you again, pressing the tip back in, then further, this time it burns less – but the pressure. “So much… too much…”
“Relax baby,” he’s calling you baby. You blink rapidly, letting him guide you up again. “Sit down on it, take what’s yours.”
Your hands grip his shoulders, fingers grabbing the soaking wet material of his jacket, eyes locked while you take more, his gaze lidded and dilated. “That’s it, look how fucking pretty you are.”
You feel so pretty, working up and down again, whining out at how full you are, how deep he’s getting, cunt leaking more and more arousal to accomodate. You feel him everywhere, so deep in your tummy, he’s kissing your chest, your throat, lapping up the rain from your skin, whining out softly under his breath when you roll your hips.
“Is that good? I…”
“It’s perfect, god,” he guides you again, his lashes fluttering shut at the ecstasy of your cunt rocking up and down. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”
“Mnh!” You’re taking more, easier every time, your thighs tensing with each thrust, taking more and more until you bottom out, screaming.
“Fuck,” he rests his forehead on yours, hands slipping to grip your ass, a cheek in each of his big hands. “Can’t hold back.”
“Don’t.”
Satoru moans, kissing you again, pulling you towards his chest and leaning back on that bench, starting to fuck up into you now, slamming your cervix. He’s whispering your name while he’s got you stuffed, stretched out on his thick length, he’s just as lost in it as you are, whining out right with you against your lips. Hands pressing in bruisingly while he drags you down.
“Using you like my pretty toy, you like that baby?” He’s completely done for when your eyes get wide, lips parted while you whisper a little yes. “Feel her stretching out?”
“Y-yes,” you gasp again when Satoru slams you down hard. “Toru!”
“Hold on t’me,” you do just that, clinging to Satoru when he flips you to your back on the plush cushion of the bench, tie hovering over your skin so silky. You tug it, bringing his lips to yours. He lifts a leg, sinking back inside you, you’re taking me easier and easier, messy cunt opening for him. “Want you to cum, can you sweetheart?”
Your nod is his answer, he exhales, already close with how tight you are, trying to hold out so you can chase that high, because he wants to see it, wants to feel it. Satoru shoves in deep, rolling his hips just so, when the pressure is too much, fucking unbearable. You shatter underneath him, pleasure rolling over your body even more intense than his mouth had given you.
Violently shaking, you’re drunk off him like he is off you, kisses and mumbles, while his cock works you, wrecks you with every stroke, slower and more calculated, letting you ride that orgasm out. And fuck you’re beautiful underneath him, damp hair splayed, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, exposed breasts all littlered with marks from him.
“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers, kissing you again, softer strokes slowing down and feeling those aftershocks grip his cock. “Mnh, baby m’close.”
“Cum inside me,” he needs no further fucking invitation, Satoru does just that, whining out your name against your ear when he buries his face against your neck, shoving in deep. “Ngh!”
Cum coats those slick walls in white, so hot and so much, you can feel him pulsing and thickening, pouring more cum deep. You try to catch a breath, but his leaky cock and the warmth spilling from your sensitive cunt have to cumming again, a little smaller but more sensitive, gripping him tightly.
Satoru eases back, your name on his lips, running his fingertips across your cheek and sighing, cock still snug inside you. “I never pictured this, in all the ways I’ve imagined taking you over the years.”
“Oh, how many ways?” You tease, hand entangling in his damp locks, while he presses kisses along your jaw.
“I’ll show you them all on one condition,” you blink now, a little sleepy, the rain slowly dying down. “You’re not my ‘fake girlfriend’ anymore.”
“Real?”
“Real,” you blink back tears, kissing Satoru again, when he pulls out of you and moans at the loss, sighing and studying you. “I still want that merch though.”
“You’re such a jerk!” You shove at him, he’s laughing and the sound melts your heart, the boy you’ve always loved resting on top of you, soothing kisses like little apologies. “Fine, I’ll get you anything you want.”
“Right now, I just want to kiss you some more.” He does just that, and soon your ‘fake boyfriend’ becomes entirely real.
Thank the 25k of you SO MUCH again for always hyping my ass up and motivating me to put these out :') I rly love yall and hope you enjoyed this fluff hehe <3
with you staying over at the fushiguro household for the night, the air between the two of you had grown noticeably tense. because megumi knew exactly what that meant—that once his parents and sister were asleep, he had you all to himself.
that knowledge was what made him so bold, so daring, right there under the dinner table.
while toji chatted away with tsumiki about what was, judging by the occasional eye roll, probably boyfriends, and his mother asking about your day with a warm smile, your boyfriend was focused entirely on the heat radiating from your thighs.
his hand slid higher the more you spoke, his long fingers grazing the lace of your panties, feeling the dampness that proved you were just as desperate as he was.
maintaining his usual stoic, he watched your face, enjoying the way you struggled to maintain a conversation while he was practically tasting your arousal through the fabric.
megumi's gaze wandered back to his mother as she continued talking, but it wasn't long before it settled back on you. the gentle nudge of your foot beneath the table earned the smallest reaction, a subtle lift at the corners of his lips. and without thinking, he quietly propped his chin on his hand, his palm shielding the expression from the rest of the table.
“and when they were toddlers, can you believe megumi—”
you had gasped into your water glass when he finally pushed past the edge of your panties, his fingertips brushing against the your soaked folds. the moment he felt the slickness of your arousal, a tiny, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“are you okay?” what a tease.
now, back in his room, the atmosphere has completely shifted from subtle to blatant teasing. you’re still perched on his lap, your pussy clamped tight around his thick dick as megumi focuses on his monitor.
the contrast is maddening: the clicking sounds of his mechanical keyboard and the glow of the screen, paired with the wet, visceral feeling of him buried deep inside you.
the sensation is overwhelming. because he isn't moving, not yet, the heat is concentrated, a heavy, throbbing pressure that makes your internal muscles twitch and squeeze instinctively.
"you're so tight," he murmurs, his voice low and steady, barely audible. he doesn't look away from the screen, his fingers dancing across the keys with precision. "is it that good, just sitting there?”
“mhhmmm,” you whimper, your arms finding their way around his neck, your chin settling atop his shoulder as you lean into him
"you’re shaking, pretty," he observes, his voice flat but laced with satisfaction. he doesn't look away from the game, but he can feel you pulsing around him, milking him with every breath you take.
"i’m— i'm gonna cum," you squeal, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. you try to lift your hips, desperate to slide down and then push back up, to create the friction you need to tip over the edge.
but as you do so, his hand immediately snaps from the keyboard to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin to lock you in place. he doesn't move his dick; he just holds you there, suspended at the peak of your arousal.
"i didn't say you could cum yet," megumi mutters, his eyes narrowing at the screen as he quietly curses under his breath at yuji, who has somehow managed to get on his nerves yet again. "can you take this fucking seriously, bruh— stay right there. hold it."
"you’ve been teasing me for half an hour! megs— please! i can’t—"
"shhh," he cuts you off, finally glancing up at you. his eyes are hooded, full of a desire that contradicts his calm demeanor.
"i told you, you're staying still. if you can't handle it, maybe you shouldn't have gotten so wet at the table."
"i can't help it! ever since you ate me out, you’ve been teasing me. god— you're so big—"
“that’s the point.”
megumi gives a sudden, sharp jolt upward, his dick hitting your cervix with a force that makes you gasp and arch your back. the sensation is so intense it nearly sends you over the edge, but before you can collapse, he pins you down again, his grip bruising and possessive.
"just a few more minutes," he whispers, returning his attention to the screen, leaving you trapped on his lap, trembling and leaking onto his thighs, completely at his mercy while he finishes his round.
"i can't— i can't just sit here while you're inside me," you sobbed, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.
he just snickers, a low, vibrating sound you could feel deep in your chest, shifting his weight to give you a slow, agonizingly deep grind that hit your sweet spot perfectly.
"if you're good and stay still and quiet, maybe i'll actually fuck you when the round is over. deal?"
“but—”
"besides, if you make too much noise, my parents might hear you. do you want them to know exactly what you're doing on my lap right now? or how wet you are for me?"
the thought sends a jolt of shame and arousal through you, making you squeeze him even tighter. he bites back a moan.
"no! i— i don't!" you stammer, your breath coming in short, jagged gasps.
"exactly," he says, his voice returning to that calm, dominant drone. "just sit there and warm me up. let me enjoy how tight you are."
you sink back down with a small sigh, your weight pressing you further onto him, the slight movement sending sparks of pleasure through your nerves. you are trapped, held captive by his strength and his indifference to your desperation, your body humming with a need that only he can satisfy.
“are you seriously fucking your girl while being on call with me, fushiguro.”
links: riding him, sitting on his face, gotta be quiet, he can’t get enough of your taste, what you send him while he’s away, what he sends you while he’s away
this is kinda short my bad hopefully the links make up for that ALSO my inbox has been filled with so many…..interesting….things…. plz why are we thinking about catboy megumi working at a maid cáfe cuz toji couldnt pay the rent i hate u all legit 💔💔💔
ა ˙˖ summary → there’s no one you hate more than satoru gojo. he’s arrogant and entirely too full of himself. when you agree to be strictly enemies with benefits, gojo takes this as the perfect opportunity to finally make you his.
ა ˙˖ content: 14k wc, accurate portrayal of fraternities so the boys are jerks srry, hazing, rough sex, breeding, masturbating, overstimulation, desperate gojo, oral sex, jealous reader, abusive parents, major fluff, some angst, probably more!
frat!jo 𝓍 fem!reader
chapter two series masterlist
* click ! *
Gojo’s new camera goes off and for a moment the view in front of him is overcome from the brightness of the flash. His hands are barely gripping the polaroid when it’s done printing, fingers pinching the edges so as to not ruin it with his sweat.
He wasn’t a professional by any means but Gojo had promised Suguru they could document their college lives together and he loved to capture moments that stood out to him. It just so happens that you were always catching his eye.
When his vision clears up and all that’s left are little dots of light, he’s looking down at the photo and half smiling, his chest tightening at the sight.
You were so beautiful, flashing that smile that always left his heart beating a little faster. Your hair was freshly curled, makeup enhancing your natural beauty, the oversized sweater you wore was slipping off your shoulder and covering half of your skirt. He could still hear you now, laughing at something Yuki had said and his mind was going a mile per second.
He knew you hated him and yet, he could still feel his heart growing double the size from the pure adoration he felt for you.
So entrancing. So perfect.
All Gojo wanted was for you to look at him, to acknowledge his existence with more than disgust or indifference. He’d even settle for the glare you were giving him now, a year after he took that photo. Your lips set in a pout so pretty that he had to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing your arm, pulling you into his lap and begging you to forgive him.
Gojo sat on the couch with his head in his hands, his leg bouncing and heart thumping so hard that it was painful. He could barely breathe, nerves getting the best of him for the first time in his life. He was always so calm, so lazily self-assured, and now here he was falling apart on his couch while you held proof that he had been paying attention to you longer than he cared to admit.
“I take pictures of things that capture my eye. You just happen to do that a lot.” He gives a shaky laugh, running his hands through his hair.
Gojo had plenty of pictures of all of his friends, all completely innocent. Did he, on the rare occasions you allowed yourself to be around him, take some of you? Yes and he always been upfront about his feelings for you so he couldn’t understand why you were so fucking mad at him right now.
“That’s not a good enough explanation, Satoru.”
And fuck, Gojo wishes you would stick with his last name if you were going to say his first with such poison in your voice. You only ever called him Satoru when he was fucking you and it made his chest ache that his first time hearing it in a casual setting was like this.
He looks up. His blue eyes burning and red rimmed, and the sight makes your stomach clench in a way that makes you angry at yourself. You should have thrown the pictures at him, should have been more furious. You are furious but underneath it was something worse, a sick feeling that had been growing since you started this arrangement nearly three months ago. Something that grew every time he took you roughly in the library or softly on his bed, hands tracing your entire body as if he was worshipping you while he was balls deep inside of you.
Every time he made you forget every reason you had for keeping him at arm's length.
He saw you and that was the problem. Not as the stuck up, frat hater who had everything together, that everyone knew you to be. But the girl whose nose crinkled when she laughed too hard and the girl that played with her fingers as a nervous tick when a conversation was dragging. He saw all of this through a fucking lens and it scared you.
He had been collecting evidence of your humanity for two years, and you had never known.
“I need a break.” You finally spit out.
Gojo’s breath caught in his throat, the bouncing of leg slowing as he tried to process what you just said.
“From what?” He asks quietly, even though he knows the answer.
"From this, Satoru. From-" You gesture between you both, hands shaking, trying your best to keep your voice from cracking. "We can keep working on the project but no more experimenting on each other. Public meet ups only like normal people, and once a week. No more of whatever this is."
"Whatever this is." He repeats, his face twisting like he was tasting something bitter.
"You know what I mean." You roll your eyes, trying to keep your composure even though your fingers nervously played with the ends of his shirt that swallowed you.
He stood up. He was so tall, six-three and all long limbs and broad shoulders, and he usually used that height to loom over you playfully, to trap you against walls and annoy you. Now he just looked like a man who was doing a shitty job at holding himself together.
“Please.. Don’t do this.” And he doesn’t stop his tears from falling this time because if you’re going to break his fucking heart over a few pictures then he might as well let you know it.
“Satoru..” You frown, shifting your weight from one leg to the other and avoiding eye contact.
“Stop hiding from me!” His patience snaps and he walks around the coffee table to stand in front of you, his face hot with frustration and impatience. Both of his hands come up and hold onto your face with force, not aggressive, but enough to tilt your head up and make you look in his eyes.
He can barely breathe with the way you’re looking at him, eyes glossy as you chewed on your bottom lip and frowned at him. How pathetic was he, that he felt a glimmer of hope just because you weren’t glaring at him like you usually did.
“I’m not hiding.” You whisper, bottom lip shaking.
“Tch, you’ve been hiding since the day I met you. You hide behind hating frats, behind calling me a nepo baby and this whole enemies with benefits bullshit because you’re too afraid to admit that you might like me too.” He looks at your lips before meeting your eyes again. “You’re a coward.”
He watches the way your eyes darken, notices your hands move just from the slightest shift in your posture and he just knows you’re digging your nails in your palms right now, because of fucking course he notices everything about you.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
You look at him for a moment, eyes boring into his and just when he thinks that he might have broken through to you, when he starts to lean down so he could kiss you and end this petty game of pretending, you yank your body away from him and stomp past him to his room.
He follows you, heart cracking with each step. You were grabbing your dress off the floor, yanking his shirt over your head and quickly sliding your own clothes back over your body. Gojo kept calling your name, begging you to stop but you ignored him as you slipped your panties back on. All he could do was watch as you moved around his room and gathered your things.
Hopeless. Defeated.
“I’ll text you about the project, okay?”
“Right.. The project.” His voice was flat, hollowed out in a way that made him sound far from the cocky, arrogant jokester he usually was.
He didn't move from where he stood, but you felt the weight of him behind you as you walked past him and slipped on your shoes, the silence worse than shouting.
You wanted to turn around. Wanted to see if his eyes were still on you or if he'd finally looked away but you didn't. You couldn't.
If you turned around, you would stay, and if you stayed, you would have to admit that the ache in your chest wasn't anger at all, that it was something far more dangerous, something you weren’t ready to admit yet.
You heard him call your name one last time as you opened his front door, a sound so small and defeated it made your eyes burn, hands coming up to rub at them.
Then you walked to the nearest bus stop, feet burning from your heels, and you broke.
The apartment was silent, Gojo too lost in his own thoughts, his mind playing the moment you walked out the door on repeat. He should have stopped you, should have done more to get you to stay but he didn’t. Instead he stood there and watched you leave, too angry at you and himself to actually do anything.
He shouldn’t have gotten that fucking camera, shouldn’t have listened to Suguru. It seemed like every past decision was coming back to bite him in the ass. Join a frat? Turns out the girl he’d end up falling for rightfully hates them and anyone involved in them. Buy a camera to capture precious moments? Guess what? She hates that too!
He couldn’t fucking win.
Gojo was persistent, he loved a good competition, but right now he was at a loss at what to do, staring at the Theta Phi hoodie hanging by his bedroom door with pure disgust.
Everything wrong with his life had started because of the fraternity he had been forced into. The life he never wanted for himself but had been too much of a push over to actually fight against.
He could remember your words from that day in the library, when you asked him why he didn't just say no to joining the frat. He had told you his father's ultimatum and while that wasn't a lie, the truth was that Gojo was the true coward, not you.
You risked losing a relationship with your only surviving parent to follow your dreams, while Gojo knew good and well that as an only child, his father would never truly disown him.
He had just been used to pleasing his parents, keeping up family legacy and making them proud.
Only it made him miserable in the end and sacrificing his happiness for the sake of others, had only led to the only girl that made him want to be better, walking out on him.
Gojo knew he had a choice to make. Leave the frat, tell his father to kiss his fucking ass or lose any chance he has with you.
He knew exactly which one to make.
You were sitting on your bed, knees pulled to your chest and replaying every word Gojo had said to you. You're a coward. You like me too. What the fuck did he know?
Gojo didn't know you, couldn't possibly understand what you were feeling. That's what you told yourself to block out his voice that kept echoing in your head. You wanted to be angry at him, but that anger kept turning into something softer and more terrifying, as you pressed your forehead against your knees and tried to breathe.
You hated frat boys. They were incompetent, plagues to society and Gojo Satoru was a fucking frat president so what did that say about him? There was no way someone like you could ever fall for someone like him.
It was mathematically impossible.
Sure, the sex was amazing and sure you believed he was one of the most beautiful creatures alive, and sure he made you laugh in a way you hadn't since your father died, but that didn't mean anything.
You had learned from your mother and her failed relationships long ago that men were often disappointing and decided freshmen year that you simply only needed them for sex. To satiate your high libido and leave it at that.
Gojo wouldn't be the exception. He couldn't be.
You needed to get your shit together, push your cravings to the side and remember who you were and that was far from the girl who overthought about a man, especially one like Gojo.
Someone who could find you in a crowd of thousands, someone who left goosebumps on your arms whenever he touched you, someone who took pictures of you that showed you in the most positive light even though you had been nothing but nasty to him. Some who-
Your head snaps up when the door opens and Shoko walks in, her backpack half off one shoulder and her face set in an expression that meant she was pissed, brown hair falling in her eyes.
"Sho-"
"We need to talk." She cuts you off and you swallow, hands starting to shake again. You squeezed them to hide your distraught state, though you were sure she'd be able to read your face like she was always able to.
"I really don't have the patience for this right now." And it wasn't a lie. You were hanging on by a very loose thread and couldn't handle anyone else's baggage right now.
"Too bad." Shoko dropped her bag on her bed and turned to you, hands on her hips and her face set in a scowl. "I saw you at the club last night with Gojo. Care to explain?"
You felt your body go rigid. You were so consumed by your own jealousy last night that you hadn't thought that someone might see you, that your friends might see you.
Fuck.
"Shoko- I don't-" You stutter, tongue growing heavy.
"How long? How long have you been hiding this from me?"
This couldn't happen at a worse time. "It's not what you think-"
"Don't shut me out again!" Shoko's voice was sharp but her eyes were hurt and it made you sink, curling into yourself. "Is he the one you hid in the closet that one time? Or the one you've been basically living with since god knows you haven't been here."
You said nothing, throat closing up. The words wouldn't come, and the ones that might have were trapped beneath the pressure building in your chest.
"Is he the guy who's been making you happy?" Shoko asked, her voice softer this time, hands falling from her hips. "Because I've noticed, you know? I've noticed you coming back to the room at weird hours with that look on your face. I've noticed you smiling at your phone. I'm not stupid (name)."
The tears came before you could stop them, hot and spilling down your cheeks as you pressed your face into your knees and your shoulders shook violently. You hated that you were crying in front of someone, hated that you couldn't hold it together, hated that Gojo had embedded himself so deep that you couldn't claw him out.
Hated that you somewhere along the way, you had stopped truly hating him and it morphed into something else.
The mattress dips beside you and Shoko's pulling you into her arms, holding your head to her chest and rubbing your arms.
"Hey." She says quietly. "I'm not judging you. I promise I'm not. If he makes you happy then that's all that matters, not what anyone else thinks. He's more than a frat boy, and you know it, or you wouldn't be crying like this."
You cry harder, angry at her for being right, angry at yourself for not being able to admit it. This was supposed to be simple, an agreement between two horny college students to satisfy each others needs and leave it at that.
Catching feelings had never been apart of the plan.
Shoko didn't say anything else, just let you cry until you eventually fell asleep and she left to confront a certain white haired frat president.
When you woke, it was the next morning and your head was pounding, cheeks stained with dry tears. Your chest still ached from last night and your eyes were heavy from oversleeping.
You sigh, rubbing your hands down your face and rolling over to check your phone. 9:30 am, fuck. You had a morning shift today and if you didn't get up now you were going to be late, but still, you couldn't move your legs.
Especially when you saw you had a few texts and three missed calls from your mom.
mom: hi honey! i'm in town and want to see you. let me know when you're free
mom: we should talk, it's been a while
The last text made you roll your eyes. It's been a while because she couldn't get over the fact that you had chosen a different path in life then she had wanted for you.
Nevertheless, you couldn't deal with her right now. So you kept scrolling through your messages, a few from your friends checking in on you and then his name popped up and your breath caught.
gojo (dni): you okay?
Just two words but it made your heart rate spike.
You should respond, probably let him know you made it home safe but you couldn't. Guilt and annoyance latched to you, because even after breaking him he's still checking on you.
You knew you had been unfair, never really gave him a chance to prove that he was more than what his fraternity represented.
Sure his personality could be insufferable at times and he usually made you want to pull your hair out, but there had been another side to him you discovered in the weeks you spent together.
Gojo could be a gentleman when he wanted. Opening doors for you, bringing you coffee during your library study sessions, getting flowers and your favorites food delivered when you weren't even speaking.
Remembering your favorite things in the first place. When was the last time anyone ever paid that much attention to you and it wasn't sexual?
God, you were so fucked.
You send your mom a quick text agreeing to meet after your tomorrow and only responded i'm fine to Gojo before quickly showering and washing your traitor thoughts away.
❤︎
Three days later, you were baking the last of the cupcakes for tomorrow, humming to yourself as you delicately applied the icing and did your best to ignore the intruding memories from that day.
Soft jazz music played in the background as the last of the customers began to leave. The bakery was always slow at closing time, one or two regulars lingering until they were told it was time to go.
You were wiping down the front counter when the bell above the door chimed. Your mother walked in like she owned the place, which was typical of her. Long fur coat, perfect posture, the same disapproving tilt to her mouth that she’d worn since the day your father was buried.
You stand taller, setting the rag on the table. "Mom." The word came out strangled, nerves getting the best of you.
She hadn't shown when you gave her the address to your job and you thought maybe she decided it was best to leave you alone and yet here she was, standing in the middle of the small bakery as if she hadn't stood you up mere days ago.
“You look well.” Your mother surveyed the bakery with mild interest. “Can we sit? I’d like to talk.”
You nod and straighten to your full height, nodding to a booth and sliding in across from her, wiping the sweat from your hands on your apron.
She looked good, better than when you left for college two years ago. Happy despite the permanent scowl on her face. Her eyes were still sunken but not as dark as they used to be, hair actually styled and she had makeup on for the first time since you were a pre-teen.
You sat across from each other like diplomats from countries at war, her hands folding in front of her and revealing her freshly polished nails. The huge ring on her finger nearly blinding you.
Oh.
She clears her throat and forces a smile, covering the ring with her other hand. "I'm getting married." She says, no preamble. “Next month. Small ceremony on the beachfront. I’d like you to be there.”
Another man you were supposed to welcome into the rotation of strangers your mother had always chosen over stability. Over you.
After your father died, your mother was a wreck and basically shut you and your sister out. While she always provided financially, she was hardly an emotionally supportive mother. She forced you into gymnastics to get you out of her hair and demanded perfection from you.
Then came the men. Your mother never settled, claiming she had been given the world from your dad and knew her worth. Most of her relationships never made it past a few months, and she was the main reason for your stance on men now.
You had to bite your tongue, stopping yourself from asking her how long this one would last.
"Congratulations." You managed to spit out.
"HIs name is Masamichi. We both work in the same school and just clicked.” Your mother smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from her sleeve. "Going on almost a year now."
"I'm happy for you mom. I'll try my best to make it."
Your mom bites the inside of her cheek, clearly annoyed you weren't jumping for joy and planning dress shopping dates and bachelorette's. What did she expect after icing you out for making your own decisions?
“Is there anyone special in your life?” Your mother asked, awkwardly shifting topics since she hadn't gotten the reaction she wanted. “A boyfriend? Someone serious?”
Gojo's face invaded your sight, blue eyes filled to the brim with tears and white hair tousled. The way he’d looked on the couch, shattered and stripped bare, heart bleeding for the same girl who'd wounded him.
You resented him and the way your mind found him first no matter how hard you tried to push him away. Gojo wasn't your man and he never would be. you two just weren't compatible and that was the end of it.
"No." You shift uncomfortably, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. "I'm focused on school."
Your mother nods and you can't tell if she's satisfied or just done with the topic. The conversation wound down after that, pleasantries and promises to send the wedding details. You thought that maybe there was a chance you could move on from the hiccup of her not accepting your choice, that you could have a normal mother daughter relationship.
Until she opened her mouth.
“I still don’t understand why you gave up gymnastics. You had real talent.”
You take in a deep breath before responding, the smile completely wiped from your face. "It isn't what I wanted. Not much to it."
“What you wanted.” Your mother’s laugh was thin and humorless and pissed you the fuck off. “You were a dumb teenager. What did you know about what you wanted? Do you know how much money I wasted getting you to that level?”
Fuck her! How many times did you have to explain the same thing? You should have know better than to believe your mother would accept things not going the way she planned. That she would accept you for who you were and just be fucking happy for you.
"I didn't ask you to!"
“No, you just woke up one day and decided all those years meant nothing.” Your mother’s voice tightened, the polished veneer cracking just enough to show the old resentment underneath. “You were going to regionals. You had scouts watching you and you walked away like it was nothing.”
“It was never my dream. It was yours.” You gripped your apron to stop yourself from shaking. “You never once asked me if I was happy.”
“Happy.” She fumes, saying the word like it was something you hadn't been deserving of, something you hadn't earned since your dad died. “What does happiness have to do with talent? With opportunity? You don’t get to waste something like that and pretend it was some principled choice.”
You didn’t answer. Just stared at her dumbstruck, not being able to process that she was doing this right now. That she still wasn't over this.
Your pulse was hammering, head pounding as Gojo's laugh echoed through your skull. You felt sick.
You stood abruptly, the booth’s vinyl squeaking beneath you. “You know what? Go fuck yourself. Seriously. Go marry guy number thirty and play happy family. Just leave me out of it.”
You don't give her the chance to see the tear falling down your face, stomping toward the back and ignoring your coworkers worried face, sinking at the sound of your mother calling you a coward.
It was another two days before you seen Gojo again.
You were in the middle of your psychology lecture when he waked in late, slithering into a seat next to you, his cologne hitting you like a truck.
You kept your eyes forward, but your hands were shaking underneath your sleeves and your stomach was flipping viciously. He wasn't making an effort to talk to you, just pulled out his laptop and started typing in whatever the professor was saying as if you weren't sitting right there.
You noticed he didn't sit next to Suguru, who had opted to sit a few rows in front of you and even though you shouldn't care about anything involving Gojo outside of your project, you still wondered why he chose to sit next to you instead.
"Psychology says that we like people that are kind, respectful, perhaps even funny." Your professor paces the podium, hands on her hips as she looks to the crowd. "But research shows that it's actually more than that. Proximity plays a huge factor in how close we become with someone, which makes sense because the more you're exposed to something, the more you like it."
"Of course." Gojo speaks up next to you, his deep voice vibrating down to your fucking soul and you didn't realize how much you missed it until now. "The mirror exposure effect."
Your professor nods and smiles at him and you can't control the rush of jealously that hits you. Why did you care? It was just a smile, and Gojo was not your man to get jealous and possessive over.
"Correct. Simply seeing something makes it likable, perhaps because it becomes comfortable and safe."
You want to die when you think about sleeping in Gojo's bed, warm and secure with his arms wrapped tight around you despite your no cuddling rule. Bodies tired and sweaty after going six rounds. His warm lips pressed so softly to yours, even though you swore kissing was off limits but kissed back every fucking time.
"Now by a show of hands, how many of you have a best friend in this very college?"
More than half the room raises their hands, including you and Gojo.
"Okay." She nods her head and continues. "Now how many in a different college?"
Three or four hands go up.
"Now statically and psychologically speaking, if you were going to marry someone from this class, it's the person you're sitting next to."
Your heart almost jumps out your chest, heat flooding your face and Gojo sucking in a sharp breath next to you, halting his typing while the class laughs.
Marriage.
Your professor was an idiot if she thought you'd ever marry Satoru fucking Gojo. What did she know? You weren't a statistic and Gojo was not your type in a boyfriend, let alone a husband.
Still, your brain, traitorous thing it was, pictured Gojo a little older and standing at the end of an aisle, wearing a black tux suit and a ring on his finger as he smiled at you.
His bride, his wife. His last name becoming yours.
You almost choked on your spit, fingers gripping the desk so hard you thought it might split.
This was exactly why you'd ended things.
Because somewhere between the arguments, the sarcastic remarks, and the stolen afternoons tangled up in his sheets, your feelings had warped from hatred to indifference to something else you refused to believe was even possible.
You'd caught yourself wondering what he was doing when he didn't text. Smiling whenever his name lit up your phone. Looking for him during games before you even realized what you were doing.
Then you found the pictures. They weren't bad, you knew that, but it would still hurt less if you found a hundred of you naked because that was physical and those pictures were far too intimate.
You made the right choice, right? You needed space, needed time to remember that Gojo was the same frat boy you hated for two years and that a few good moments didn't change anything.
So why was that becoming harder to believe with every passing day?
Especially when you finally turn your head to look at him and he's already looking at you, wearing those stupid glasses with his stupid white hair falling into his eyes, annoyingly hypnotic blue eyes locked on yours.
His cheeks were flushed pink, and he looked like he wanted to say something to you, but opted for smiling instead.
"Hi." He whispers and you just about pass out, an ache growing between your legs.
This wasn't you. You weren't weak, didn't fawn over men like Gojo and you were a known bitch, you could still be one. And yet, you simply said: "Hi." all breathy like a love sick puppy and you wanted to throw up.
You blamed it on the fact that you hadn't gotten fucked in days and the lack of sexual gratification was suffocating your brain, blocking out your common sense.
He clears his throat, shifting in his seat and leaning slightly closer to you. It gave you the opportunity to notice the small freckle on the side of his jaw and the tiny crease between his eyebrows which always meant he was thinking of what to say next.
Since when did you start noticing these things? You used to pride yourself on how easy he was to ignore and now you couldn't stop noticing him. It made you sick, fingers curling around the sleeves of your sweater as you waited for him to speak first, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth.
"I just-" He clears his throat. "If you're free today, I was wondering if you wanted to meet at the library? To study of course."
He quickly adds the last part and you have to bite back a smile. His nervousness was cute. Good, you liked your men a little scared of you.
You nod and fidget with your fingers to stop yourself from biting your nails, a nasty habit you had picked up again after meeting with your mom.
"Yes." You squeak and cringe at the sound of your too high pitched voice, ignoring the way he smirks at you. "I mean yeah, sounds great. 4pm good for you?"
You nor Gojo notice your professor smiling at you both.
Later that day you stared at the vibrator in your hand with red hot anger, the little purple piece of shit that had been your only lifeline for the past four days.
You clicked the button again. Nothing. You clicked it two more times, rapid, angry, embarrassingly desperate.
"Are you kidding me." You mutter, falling back on your pillow with a loud groan.
Shoko was gone, Thursday lab sessions that kept her out most of the day. Which meant you had exactly two hours of privacy before your study session, a dead vibrator, and a problem that was starting to make you genuinely lose your mind.
Four days. It's been four days since you told Gojo your deal was off and you were to be nothing but project partners. Your assignment was due in a few more weeks and you had started to slack on it the more time you spent around him. You couldn't think straight when he was around. Couldn't think straight when he was inside you either, which was the whole issue.
You squeeze your legs together, the cotton of your shorts pressing against your wet cunt.
It wasn't like you missed him. You did not miss him. Gojo Satoru was a frat boy with an ego the size of a delivery truck and a smirk that made you want to slap it off his face almost as much as you wanted to sit on it.
You didn't miss him, you missed the sex. There was a difference. There was definitely a difference, and you were going to keep telling yourself that until you were blue in the face.
Your skin felt too tight, body going through withdrawal after being able to have Gojo inside of you whenever you want. Him taking you against every surface of his apartment, in library study rooms and even in his car where anyone could have seen.
You lift your hips and pull down your shorts and panties, kicking them off the bed.
This was fine. You didn't need a shitty vibrator anyways, you'd been getting yourself off before you had it and you could do it again. Your hands slipped between your legs, your pussy already wet, had been wet since Gojo sat next to you and looked at you like he wanted to eat you.
Your fingers slid through your slick warmth easily and you closed your eyes, sighing as your walls stretched around you.
You imagined they were Gojo's, long and thick, hitting parts of you that your fingers just couldn't reach. He knew exactly where to put them. He knew exactly how much pressure you needed, and he always gave you just slightly less than that until you dug your nails into his arm and made him.
Your thumb slowly circled your clit and you bit your lip.
You thought about the last time he fucked you, four days ago before you called everything off. He had you on your back and was pushing his cock so deep that you almost felt him in your chest. His eyes were locked on yours, telling you "that's it, take what you need." and you came so hard your vision blurred.
You thought about how deep he came inside of you, forging the condom and shooting ropes of hot cum into your heat.
Your hips lifted off the bed, chasing your hand as you curled your fingers and fucked yourself like Gojo would.
You thought about him going down on you, tongue pressed flat against you before he focused right where you needed him, his lips sealing around your clit while his fingers worked inside you.
"Ngghh, fuck." You cried into the empty room, wet sloshing sounds filling the space as you pushed yourself toward the brink.
You were close. You could feel it building, that tight coil low in your stomach, and you pushed another finger inside and used your other hand on your clit while you thought about Gojo's voice. The low rasp it got when he was turned on, the way he cried your name as you bounced on his cock.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand but you ignored it, crying out as your orgasm pulsed through your body, pussy clenching around your fingers, and you imaged it was Gojo's cock. That he was telling you how you were such a good girl, his pretty princess.
Across campus, Gojo leaned his forehead against the cool tile of the shower and let the water fall against his shoulders. Football practice had ended forty minutes ago and everyone else had cleared out, leaving him alone with the ache that had been gnawing at him for four days straight.
It was pathetic. He knew it was pathetic.
He was Satoru Gojo, and he could have any girl (with the sole exception of you) that he wanted, and here he was, jerking off in the showers like a freshman who'd just discovered his dick, because some junior with a sharp tongue and a hatred of frat boys had decided to call off your mutually beneficial agreement.
His hand moved slow at first, palm slick with remnants of soap, stroking himself from the base and squeezing the tip. He let his mind wander to where it was did.
To you.
To the way you looked up at him when he was inside you, that glare you wore even when you were gasping, even when your nails were digging into his shoulders and your legs were wrapped around his waist.
You never surrendered and that's what he loved most about you. You took what you wanted from him and made him work for the rest, and it drove him absolutely insane with lust and admiration.
He tightened his grip, a low groan escaping his throat.
Fuck. He should hate you with the way you treat him, yet he needed you like he needed air and he was sick that you couldn't see how desperate you made him. Didn't understand why you were punishing both him and you just because you were scared of your own feelings.
His strokes grew faster and he thought about your mouth. The way you bit your lip when you were close, the way your mouth felt around his cock when you sucked him dry in the club like a common whore.
Gojo never found you hotter than that night. All horny and jealous like you didn't already know that every part of him belonged to you.
"Hmmph, fuck," he muttered, voice wrecked and low, "bet you're touching yourself right now too, aren't you, princess? Bet you can't- haaah, s-shit, can't get me out of your head either."
The pressure was building at the base of his spine, his breath coming in harsh pants against the tile, and he didn't even try to hold back. There was no one here to hear him. No one to see the great Satoru Gojo coming apart in the showers because some girl had gotten under his skin and refused to leave.
He came with a guttural sound, his release spilling over his fist hot and heavy and onto the shower floor, his body tensing and shuddering through it, water washing it away. His cock pulsed aggressively as he whispered your name like a prayer, stroking himself a few more times before collapsing against the wall.
Gojo got to the library before you, texting to let you know that he found a spot on the second floor and he got you a "treat." It set your nerves on fire, not knowing what to expect after telling him you were strictly project partners.
When you spotted him, your body betrayed you, the hair on your arms standing at the sight of him already typing with a book open next to him. He was dressed in a grey sweatsuit, his glasses slightly slipping down his nose and his hair still a little damp.
Next to him was a coffee up and a takeout bag from your favorite shop and you wanted to scream at him. To stop being so nice after you broke him, to stop messing with your fucking emotions because two months ago you would have gagged at the idea of him sitting in your vicinity and now he was remembering your favorite treats and treating you like you were more than forced acquittances.
Clawing himself deeper and deeper into your essences.
You shrug it off, quietly sitting in front of him and avoiding meeting his eyes. You could feel him staring at you but you had to be strong, to remember your own morals that he had effortlessly chipped away at every time he fucked you.
Remember the promise you made to your sister about frat boys and staying far away from them.
"Hi." He whispers but you simply grunt and pull out your laptop, hating the way your cheeks were burning and your spine was tingling from his smothering presence.
"Let's start where we last left off and then we can move onto drafting our conclusions, yeah?" You look up for a spit second and he's tilting his head at you, biting back a smile.
"What?" You scowl even though your pulse skyrockets.
He doesn't say anything, just hands you the bag and pushes the coffee toward you, which you gladly accept and mumble a thanks.
You stay like that for a bit, sipping your coffee and going through your notes from your last study session, pretending like you didn't have to squeeze your thighs whenever you'd occasionally look at Gojo. Grateful your laptop was blocking your shaking fingers, just like he was grateful you couldn't see his raging boner that wouldn't go down despite his repeat attempts of smoothing it over.
"Alright." You speak after twenty minutes, looking at the man in front of you again. "We still need another theory to support our conclusion."
Gojo nodded, crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair, his knees hitting yours. You pull back and bite your tongue, which only makes him smile.
"What about cognitive dissonance?"
You roll your eyes. It was obvious where he was going with this but you listen anyways.
"Explain."
"It's when someone's beliefs don't line up with their behavior." His voice is too smug for your liking and you squeeze your hand under the table. "The psychological discomfort makes them either change their actions or convince themselves their actions mean something else."
You nod in agreement, typing a few notes into your document. "That could work."
"Especially in relationships."
Your fingers hesitated above the keyboard but you don't look up, eyes burning from the blue light.
"How so?"
"Someone says one thing but they keep doing the opposite." His voice grates on your nerves and makes your pussy clench around nothing at the same time. "So if someone says they don't like a person but keeps sleeping with them.."
You glare, crossing your own arms and finally looking at him. "You don't have to personalize every theory. Do you have an academic point to make or are you just trying to annoy me?"
Gojo's jaw tightens and he glares right back at you, clearly still pissed off that you ended things despite giving him days to get over it. He always knew this was a means to an end and now he was trying to you the bad guy. Tuh!
"I'm talking about the theory."
"Funny. It doesn't sound like it." You spit back, your own anger taking over. How could you finish this stupid project if you couldn't be around each other without fighting?
"Maybe because you're the one making it personal."
A bitter laugh escaped you. "I'm making it personal?"
"Admit it (name). You ended things with me because you can't fucking accept that you might like the very thing you claim to hate. That's cognitive dissonance."
"You don't know what I feel at all." You seethe, lowering your voice when a guy a few tables down looks between you both. "Stop acting like you know me just because we fucked."
"Then tell me." He sits forward, folding his hands in front of him on the table and god, he's too close now. You can't fucking breathe.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't owe you anything."
He doesn't respond at first, holding your gaze until you almost feel like cowering but not a fucking chance! You weren't backing down to him of all people.
"No." He sighs, pushing his glasses up his nose. "But stop acting like i'm crazy for noticing that your words don't align with your actions."
You stared at him, heat rushing up your neck and to your ears. "You're unbelievable. Typical frat boy thinks the world revolves around him."
His expression cracks and he looks so offended that you could laugh. He hardly showed shame over his fraternity before but now he was getting shy?
"Don't call me that."
"Why?"
Your laptop goes dark from inactivity but you don't bother to fix it, too caught up in Gojo's blues, losing yourself. This was the problem. You couldn't even look at him with the same disgust you used to hold. You were falling for him. A cheerleader falling for a frat boy. It was so cliché it made you want to scream.
"Because I left that hell hole the same day you left me."
Your stomach dropped. "What?"
He just shrugs, flipping the next page of his book as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on you. The library seemed to disappear around you as you focused solely on him, trying to process what he said.
"Had my foot half way out the door anyways, figured I'd take a page from your book and live my life for myself."
You nod, dumbfounded. You weren't sure how to feel, since for two years you only ever saw Gojo as an egotistic, big headed frat president. You remember that one time after he fucked you in his car and begged you to go on a date, implying he'd leave the frat if you gave him a chance.
"Ok."
You're mostly silent again, occasionally stealing glances when you had a new discovery to share but Gojo remained on his best behavior and you tried to not take every psychological theory too personal.
Everything was so confusing, you felt like you couldn't even trust your own brain, which is why thirty minutes later you were opening your mouth and telling your own truth before you could stop yourself.
"I cut my mom off."
You hadn't even told Shoko but it felt.. right, telling Gojo. Especially after he opened up about leaving the frat. It would still take time to see him as someone else but you could pretend for now.
"Yeah?" He whispers, looking at you over his laptop and you want to die because never in your life did you think you'd be in this moment, telling Gojo over all people your family drama.
"Yeah. She couldn't accept me for who I am and I guess I just didn't care to hold onto her anymore."
Which was true. After your mother embarrassed you in front of your coworker, you blocked her on everything, going as far as to block her email. You even texted your sister and told her you had no interest in hearing about your mom anymore.
He nods. "Look at us, breaking generational trauma for our future kids"
Your eyes widen, cheeks burning brighter than the fucking sun and Gojo has the nerve to just smile and hum, looking back at his laptop like you weren't imagining your future offspring with suspiciously familiar white hair and stupidly gorgeous blue eyes.
The day Gojo broke came a week later.
He had been good, giving you the space you so desperately needed to try to forget all the moments you shared. He stopped bringing up what happened between you two during your study sessions even if he always left painfully hard.
He was trying to show you that he could be more than the image he had built for himself. He wasn't going to give up when he had gotten this far. You were stubborn but so was he.
Which is why he agreed to go to Utahime's sorority party with Suguru. He quit his fraternity, passing the torch to Sukuna but that didn't mean his life had stopped.
So he said yes and while he needed to destress after a shit week, he mostly agreed with the hope of seeing you. He didn't know how much longer he could take of this petty game between you two but he was willing to wait.
You were worth it and Gojo was anything but a quitter.
He leaned against the kitchen counter and let his gaze drift. Utahime had gone all out for this one. The decorations were excessive in his opinion. String lights crisscrossed the ceiling, there were pink and white balloons bouncing through the crowd, and a banner hung that read "Fuck Midterms" in pretty pink letters.
It was hardly anything like a frat party, way more organized and less crowded.
"I'm going to find a real drink," Suguru announced, craning his neck to yell over the music. "You want something?"
"I'm good." Gojo kept his eyes on the crowd, looking for the one person he couldn't stop thinking about.
It didn't take long for him to find you, a talent he developed after two years of fixating on you.
You were standing near the far wall with Shoko and Yuki, a drink in one hand and the other gesturing something that made Shoko laugh. His breath caught, eyes burning because he refused to blink.
Your outfit was innocent enough, cute as fuck if anything and that was a problem. You were dressed like a sweetheart, wearing a checkered brown skirt with tights, a brown shirt that fell half off your shoulders and white socks paired with your favorite Mary Janes shoes. Bow in your hair.
Dressed as if you weren't a massive bitch that made his dick hard every time you were mean to him. Gojo hadn't even known he was a masochist until he met you.
His chest did something stupid when you tossed your head forward and laughed, hair that he desperately missed pulling, falling into your face.
Fuck, he was miserable.
You were, objectively and infuriatingly, the most beautiful woman in the room. On the campus. In the entire country. Had Gojo met every woman in Japan to know that? No and he didn't need to. It was an undeniable fact that no one could touch you in the beauty department.
He took another sip of his terrible beer, noticing that some guy across the room was looking at you too. Gojo's hand tightened around his cup hard enough to make the pink plastic crack.
You weren't his. He knew that, you made it very fucking clear. But knowing it and accepting it were two different things, and right now the gap between you felt like the Grand Canyon.
And then he saw Suguru.
His so called friend was moving through the crowd and heading straight toward your group. Gojo frowned, stomach dropping when he remembered their conversation at the bar.
"How about a little friendly competition, huh Satoru?"
Suguru clearly hadn't forgotten it and if looks could kill, Gojo would be in handcuffs right now.
When his best friend reached your group, he watched him say hello to your friends before he leans in to whisper something to you. Gojo felt his adrenaline spike, a dangerous type of jealousy making his stomach twist.
You turned toward Suguru, and Gojo watched your face shift into something polite but guarded. He almost laughed until you smiled at whatever his friend had said to you.
It wasn't the same smile you gave him in the privacy of his apartment but it was a smile Suguru didn't deserve. What the fuck did he know about effort? About humiliating himself over and over just for a second of your time?
When you said something back and Suguru laughed, he decided he was done standing around and letting his friend attempt to sweep you off your feet.
So he drained his cup, crushed it and left it on the nearest surface before he started walking toward you.
You felt his presence before you saw him, just as you did the same night you met him. That was the thing about Gojo, when he decided to move, the air seemed to rearrange itself around him, like even the molecules knew to get out of his way.
"—and that's when I told him, 'Bro, you cannot microwave aluminum foil,'" Suguru was saying, and you laughed because it was genuinely funny, even if the person delivering it was operating under a misconception about your interest level.
You weren't stupid. You remembered what Gojo told you, how his friend had entered some petty competetion over you, one you wanted nothing to do with.
He was nice, cute even, you sometimes enjoyed his company when your friends occasionally invited him to your hang outs. But that was the extent of it, there was nothing else there for you.
He wasn't Gojo.
So when he started hitting on you, complementing your hair and twirling it in his fingers, you immediately thought of Gojo and how he did the same thing at his frat party two years ago.
You kindly pull your head away, annoyed because Shoko and Yuki seemed to have disappeared and now you'd have to let down someone you thought was your friend.
"Look." You hear your throat. "I don't know what you're doing but I'm not into frat boys so let's just end this here alright? You’re nice and-"
"What if I told you I was different from the others?" Suguru leaned his shoulder against the wall, hands tucked in his pocket.
You raised an eyebrow. "I'd say you sound exactly like the others."
"Ouch."
You almost felt bad, but the fact was that your brain kept comparing him to someone else and that comparison wasn't in his favor. Better to let him down now.
You opened your mouth to tell him that you were flattered but not looking for anything right now, some line you had to use against every other guy that tried to hit on you since Gojo stopped leaving territorial marks on your neck.
Then the air shifted and suddenly there was a very tall, very white-haired interruption standing directly in front of you both.
You knew he was pissed because he wasn't looking at you but at his friend who only smirked back at him. Perfect, fucking splendid.
How did you end up in this mess? Stuck between two idiots and ditched by your own friends. This was not how the night was supposed to go.
"Satoru." You look up at him, straightening your posture, hearts bouncing in your eyes because he looked hot as fuck. "I didn't know you were coming."
"I didn't either." He kept his eyes on Suguru and just as you were about to walk away, he gently grabbed your arm, keeping you in place. You glared up at him but he didn't break, just kept you right by his side.
"Don't leave now, princess. I just wanted to know what was so funny, care to repeat Geto?"
Suguru's expression flickered just for a second, a flash of amusement before he settled back into his easy charm and shrugged.
You snatch away from Gojo. His jealously was hot but annoying as fuck, since you already told the idiot that you had no interest in his friend but clearly he didn't believe you.
You hated repeating yourself.
"I was actually just about to-" You started.
"Actually," Gojo cut in, stepping closer to you, and you could see the way his jaw tightened. "I need to talk to you about the project. The psychology project. The one we're partners on. Remember? Huge chunk of our grade?"
You stared at him with a look that said you would strangle him if he didn't fuck off. "It's eleven o'clock at night."
"Academic emergencies don't have business hours."
"We have a meeting on Tuesday."
"This can't wait until Tuesday."
You wanted to laugh because he was clearly lying, but fine, you'd humor him. It was easier to let Gojo down then Suguru and you were going to light his fucking ass up for embarrassing you.
So you let him grab your hand and pull you through the crowd, ignoring the hole Suguru was burning into your back. Ignoring the looks people gave you as Gojo pulled you into the nearest room and closed the door, locking it behind him.
You didn't waste time, skin hot and tight with anger. You pushed him back against the door, pointing your finger at his chest.
"Where do you get off acting like your own me? How fucking dare you humiliate me like that?"
Gojo eyes look like a kicked puppy but the rest of his face was pissed off, jaw tight, nose flared and cheeks tinted pink.
"He was manipulating you and you were letting him."
You laugh and throw your hands up. "I can handle myself! And news flash, I'm not your fucking girlfriend, I can do and talk to whoever I want.
"What?" He pushes himself off the wall, moving closer to you and forcing you to move back. "You think Suguru can handle you? Can fuck you better than I can? Deal with your bratty attitude like I do?" Gojo was fuming, growing hotter by the second as he watched your chest heave and was overcome with the desire to rip your shirt off.
Fuck you and that stupid outfit.
You stare dumbfounded for a second before something else takes over and you smile, crossing your arms and taking another step back. Fine, you could play this game too. If he wanted to embarrass you then you would demean him.
"You want me so bad? Get on your knees and beg."
You think he'll laugh at you, tell you to cut your bullshit and say something about how he's Satoru Gojo and tell you to go to hell. So imagine your surprise when he steps closer before slowly lowering himself to floor, his hands coming to hold your hips as he titled his head back to keep his eyes on yours.
They were stripped of every trace of their usual arrogance. There wasn't a hint of the cocky frat president who flirted his way through life. Just a man who looked exhausted.
Your mouth slightly opens, heart hammering in your chest because what the fuck? You're caught off guard but do your best to keep your face twisted, not wanting him to notice your surprise.
You were still pissed off but smirk. "Good boy."
Gojo lets out a breathy laugh, placing his head on your lower belly and laughing before pulling back again.
"I'm begging you." His thumbs rub smooth against your sides and your body jolts in response. If he notices, he doesn't acknowledge it, just keeps looking at you with desperate and pleading eyes.
"I just need one date, one chance. I promise I won't let you down."
You consider it, life as his girlfriend. Pros? Limitless sex, obviously. Then there was the fact that no one had made you truly laugh like he did, not since you lost your dad. He listened to you even when you raged at him, saw right through your mean girl shield, even was brave enough to call you out on it. He left an entire fraternity, that's how well he listened.
Cons? Your pride. The whispers that would inevitably spread around campus the second people found out the ex frat president was dating the girl who'd spent two years publicly despising him.
The biggest one though? You had to admit you were wrong. That you deprived yourself of genuine love because you were scared that this was all an act, because you let your mother's own dating record warp your perception of men and relationships.
You still hated frats, that would never change but Gojo was more than a frat boy, he left it just to prove to you that he was different. That couldn't be faked, right?
You sigh, reaching a hand down to push his hair from his eyes and swallow the rising bile. "Ok, Satoru."
Gojo leans back and blinks, adams apple bobbing when he swallows, knees shifting. "Yeah?"
"Don't make me regret it," you muttered.
The corners of his mouth twitched upward, hope flickering across his face so quickly it hurt to look at. It made your stomach flutter.
"Just to be clear," you said before he could get carried away, pointing a finger at his chest. "We're not dating. This is a chance for you to prove yourself."
He nods all too fast, quickly standing and before you can even blink, pressing his lips against yours. Your eyes widened before you sink into it, letting his tongue slip into your mouth and his hands pull you close.
Gojo spent the next week damn near glued to your hip, taking you on dates that ended with steamy make out sessions and him eating your pussy because you wouldn’t let him fuck you just yet.
He did everything that would make anyone swoon: every day flowers, romantic displays of affection, paying for literally anything you needed or didn’t need, constantly telling you just how beautiful you were and how lucky he was.
Only it meant something more coming from Gojo.
Your first date was at some fancy restaurant and while you appreciated it, the best by far was going to the movies to the newest Spiderman film. Gojo sat by your side, his hand reaching to hold yours. You settled into it, letting yourself relax into his touch despite the still lingering unsureness. He just smiled at you, lifting your hand to kiss it six times.
“Favorite number is six, remember?”
You used your vibrator until it died, that night.
Now here you were, sitting across from him on his bed with your legs crossed as you played 21 questions, opting for staying in since it hadn't stopped raining. It felt weird being back at his place since the last time you were here was the day you ended things.
"Ok, your turn." You smile and pulled down your rising shirt, boobs spilling from the tank top you had left at his pace.
It disturbed you when realized just how much of your shit was at his place. You even had a toothbrush there, and it was so domestic it made you sick.
"Hmm, what's your biggest fear and why?"
You take a second to think, finding it harder each passing day to think when he stared at you like that, like you were the only person in the world. Gojo was good at holding eye contact and you usually were too, until it came to him.
"Umm, probably being haunted by a spirit."
Gojo laughs hard enough that you notice the very small dimples on his face, unnoticeable to anyone not paying attention.
Your neck burns as you reach forward to smack his chest, his body falling back on the bed. You don't think, because you're terrible at that around him, and climb over his body. Your hair crowns around your face, hands placed by the side of his head to keep yourself up, and you glare down at him even though there's no bite to it.
"What's funny?"
Gojo's laugh eases into a smile, his hands coming up to hold your hips, eyes softening.
'Spirits aren't real, sweetheart. You have nothing to be afraid of."
You pout, pretty glossed lips sending blood rushing straight to his cock. Gojo has to actively restrain himself from flipping you over and taking you right there.
He couldn't rush this, had to keep patient until you made the first move.
"Fine, but what if it's different? Like some kind of monster, like.. a curse?"
Gojo fits a brow. "A curse?"
You groan and lower your head to his chest, flustered and embarrassed because you had no idea what you were talking about. "Whatever." you mumbled, voice muffled by his body.
Gojo wraps his arms around you and reaches down to kiss the top of your head, pulling you tight.
"Then I'd exercise it."
It's your turn to laugh, looking up at him while he tucks your hair behind your ear. "I don't think you can beat a curse. You’d lose."
He just shrugs, thumb rubbing at your bottom lip.
"Nah I'd win."
"Uh huh, sure." You sit back up and don't miss the way Gojo's smile drops by an inch, sitting back and crossing your legs again.
Your belly Is doing all kind of flips when he sits up, his shirt rising just enough to show off his sleeper build and the print of his hard cock pressing against his sweats.
"My turn. What's your biggest regret in life?"
He takes a moment before speaking, looking down at his lap before locking eyes with you. "Not making you mine sooner."
You swallow hard, the sound of your blood rushing in your ears while you covered up your rattled state with an eye roll and a push of his shoulder, which he just lazily smirks at.
"Ha ha ha, very funny. Next question."
"Queen twenty-one. Can i kiss you?"
And your body moves before your brain does, nodding your head and gasping when he pulls you closer, helping you climb on his lap, your knees settling on either side of his hips. You look down at him, forehead pressed to his as you breathed each other in, Gojo smiling and playing with your hair.
"Missed you." He huffed, his eyes locked on your lips. You closed yours, his attention too overwhelming and it made your head spin.
"I know."
"You're driving me insane," he breathed against your mouth,, lips grazing yours and making you shiver.
"Good," You whispered. "You deserve it."
And when his lips finally pressed against yours, you swear your soul left your body. That’s the only way to explain what you were feeling, the entire world forgotten as he held your face and kissed you like it had been years.
You poured the same passion back, relieved because you were finally letting yourself feel. To lose yourself in his touch without guilt eating at you. Gojo wasn't a frat boy anymore, he had showed you just as much. You hadn't broken any promise to yourself, you were allowed to be happy if only for a night.
The fight had finally, catastrophically failed. Your mouth was hot and demanding, and when he gripped your waist, you pressed closer, rolling your hips forward and made his breath hitch.
You pulled away first, huffing into each others space as you caught your breath. You smiled, he smiled and everything felt so right, like this is where you finally stopped depriving yourself of full breaths and you could finally breathe properly.
"You miss me that much?" You roll your hips again, taking pride in the way he gasps and his cock twitches against your shorts.
He laughed, and the vibration of it made you shiver. "You're so evil.. my mean princess."
And then you were kissing again, deeper, messier, all tongue and teeth and the wet, desperate sounds of two people who had spent too long deprived of consuming each other.
His hands slid up your shirt, toying with the straps of your bra and making your nipples harden. You arched into him as he unsnapped it and pulled it off, fingernails scraping against his scalp and he swallowed the sound you made.
"Off." You said, tugging at his shirt. "Take this off."
He pulled it over his head in one motion and tossed it somewhere. you stopped to look at him, eyes tracing the lines of his shoulders, the definition of his chest and then you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his collarbone, and Gojo thought he might actually lose his mind.
"Damn I missed this, missed you so much baby." he said, voice rough.
"Yeah?" You lick a long stripe up his neck and pull back to look at him, eyes cloudy with lust. "Show me."
Gojo flipped you and before you could blink, you were on your back and he was between your legs, sitting back on his knees as he pulled your shirt off.
It was his time to admire you, eyeing your tits like they were candy and Gojo swears he almost drooled. You were somehow more beautiful then the last time he saw you like this, if that were at all even possible.
You were going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.
"Fuck, you're unbelievable." And he was leaning down, pressing his face to one of your boobs and inhaling deeply before taking the nipple in his mouth.
You head tossed back, a loud moan spilling from your lips because it had been entirely too long since he was on you. You wanted to skip the foreplay, needed him inside you so bad that you might pass out from excitement but you were patient, knowing h needed this just as much as you needed him.
Then he kissed his way down your body, slow and deliberate, pausing at the ridge of your ribs, the soft skin just below your navel. Your breath was coming faster now, your fingers tangled in the sheets.
"Satoru." The way you said his name, half plea, was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.
"Tell me to stop and I stop."
"Don't stop."
He pulled your shorts and panties down, slowly, pressing kisses to your hips as he went. You trembled something desperate and he looked up at you, blue eyes shining with pride and your expression was so raw and vulnerable that something in his chest cracked wide open.
You never let him see you like this, your eyes glossy with tears.
"You're beautiful," he said, staring directly at your leaking cunt plastered in his face.
"Shut up," You whispered but your voice broke on the words and Gojo took that as his sign to put his mouth on you.
The first lick had you moaning like he was already fucking you and Gojo swears up and down that your juices had some kind of addictive in it, making his tongue tingle and his throat burn for more.
Then he was gripping your hips to pull you closer, too deranged to hear your gasp, and pressing his face against your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth.
He would remember the sound you made for the rest of his life, a sharp gasp that turned into a broken moan. Your hand flew to his hair, gripping tight, and bucking your hips against him. Gojo took his time, learning you with his tongue, reading every shiver and sigh like it was a secret language only he would ever understand.
No other men would ever be able to read you like he could, make you feel as euphoric as he knew how to.
You were his and fuck, Gojo was going to show you better than he could tell you.
So he ate your pussy like a starved man (he was starving for you, to be clear), your cries and moans only spurring him on. You were falling apart under his mouth and the way you grinned against him for more had him dizzy, totally drunk on your sweetness.
"Hnnnghhh, please S-satoru, oh god I can't take it!" You cried when he lightly bit your clit and immediately licked at your hole, pushing his tongue in.
He didn't stop. He held your hips steady and worked you through it, feeling your thighs shake against his hand and moving his tongue in circles, using a hand to rub at your clit.
He was crazed, blue eyes brighter than ever as he watched you while he sent you to nirvana. You cried, tears falling from the corner of your eyes as you looked down at him, mouth dropped open and eyebrows furrowed.
You knew you were a sex addict, that much was obvious but you didn't realize just how much you needed this. You lied, convincing yourself that your fingers and vibrator could make you cum just as well Gojo.
A fat fucking lie.
Nothing, absolutely nothing could compare to the way he was fucking you with his tongue right now. You were on the brink, your stomach twisting more and more, the closer you got.
You tightened your grip on his hair, back arching off the bed and legs wrapping around his neck. Gojo was trapped but he was exactly where he wanted to be and he'd have to pried off you cold and dead before he made you squirt in his mouth.
Fuck, he needed it so bad, so he applied more pressure to your swollen clit, used his tongue to fuck your gummy walls faster.
A wave was building deep in your core and when you broke, it was with a cry that seemed to pull from somewhere far inside of you. You spine arched impossibly further, his name desperately spilling from your lips and he had to use his free hand to keep your hips down.
He didn't pull back when you squirted, swallowing what he could and letting the rest splash his face. He wanted it all, not letting up until your body collapsed against the bed and you were pushing him away.
He wiped his face and stood to remove his pants and boxers, his nine inches rock hard and leaking at the red, mushroom tip.
The bed dipped from his weight as he kissed his way back up your body. You were breathing hard, eyes half-closed, cheeks flushed. The most beautiful girl, truly.
When he reached your face and kissed the side of your mouth, you looked at him like he grew and extra head, an amused laugh leaving your lips.
"Where the hell did you learn that?"
He smirks, all cocky and insufferable like the Gojo you knew and your heart skips a beat. "Natural talent, princess."
"I hate you."
He smiles even wider, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. "No you don't."
You don't confirm or deny it and that's more than enough for Gojo. Baby steps were still steps, right?
When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his tongue, and it sent you reeling, your need for him spiking to dangerous levels.
"Inside me," You whispered against his lips. "Now. Please."
And who was Gojo to deny you? What his princess wants, she gets. So he didn't waste a second, rubbing his cock between your slick for lube before lining himself up with your entrance.
He pressed into you slowly, agonizingly slowly. You were warm and slick and tight, and every inch felt like a revelation, like your pussy held the secrets to the universe and Gojo was desperate for answers.
Your pussy was squeezing him so fucking tight he couldn't breathe and neither could you, gasping and clawing red marks down his back the further he pushed in.
"Satoru, haah, you're so big." You cried, a tear sliding down your chin that he gladly licked at.
"I know, baby. You're doing s-so good, shit, just lay there and let me worship you."
You wrapped your legs around him, heels pressing into the small of his back, and he bottomed out and you both went still, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
Each slow thrust was deliberate, the veins of his cock dragging against your walls and as much as you wanted to close your eyes, you kept them open and held his gaze.
The rhythm built between you was something organic as you met him movement for movement, your hips rising to his, your hands mapping the landscape of his back like you were committing it to memory.
This wasn't like before. Before had been fast and rough and performative, two people using each other to scratch an itch, always one foot out the door. This was different.
"Missed you too, Toru." You force the words from your throat. You weren't strong enough to return his love yet, but you hoped that he understood what you were saying. What you couldn't say.
"I know, baby."
And he pushed deeper, hitting all of your deepest spots, cock pressing at the wall of your cervix and rubbing against your g spot. The rhythm hardly shifted but it was more desperate now.
You were so soft, Gojo could feel you soaking his pubes and the heaven sent sloshing sounds every time he slammed back into you did nothing to stop the tightening of his balls.
You were tightening around him, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts, and he could feel his own edge approaching, a white-hot coil low in his stomach.
Gojo had never come this fast before, but he was helpless to stop it. It was as if your pussy got tighter, wetter because you were finally opening up to him.
"Stay with me, yeah?" He grips one of your legs and lifts it, pressing it to your chest and smacking into you so hard that the headboard smacks against the wall. Fucking you absolutely stupid.
"Yes! God, yes Satoru. I'm, I-m"
He doesn't stop, refused to stop even though he can barely breathe and when you squeeze him in heartbeats, head thrown back in a silent cry with drool sliding down your chin, he knows.
So he goes harder, faster, going insane as you come undone on his cock, your nails burning into his back and he's coming so hard that his eyes roll back and his vision goes white for a second.
He's pushing as deep as he can, load after load of warm cumin stuffing you full and dripping down your ass, onto the sheets. Gojo's thighs tense, fucking you into mattress as his hips twitch sloppily and he feeds your pussy a of his white seed.
He could feel you still pulsing around him, feel the way your body pulled him deeper, and for a long, suspended moment, there was nothing else. No past hatred, no outside forces trying to steal you from him.
Just this. You underneath him panting and rubbing at the marks you left on his back. Him above you, kissing at every inch your face and holding you close like you might disappear.
Neither of you say anything, you don't really need to. Enough has been said and done that you both know what the other is thinking.
The only problem? Gojo's dick was still hard as fuck and you were still clenching around him.
So he didn't say anything, just held your waist tight and flipped your bodies until he was lying on his back and you were seated atop his, biting your lip and failing to hide your smile.
You placed your hands on his red chest and moved your hips forward, sighing at the pure bliss his cock gave and sinking all the way down, so full you could feel him in your stomach. Gojo licks his lips and rubs at your sides, encouraging you to move without speaking.
You listen, slowly sliding up before slamming down, his cum dripping out your pussy and down his length. The sight made Gojo territorial. If that didn't scream that you were his, he didn't know what would.
"Look at you.. so full of me."
You don't answer him, rocking your hips back and forth, up and down, picking up your pace because you just couldn't get enough of him. You had went far too long with his cock and you felt like an addict experiencing relapse.
You were on a different planet. One that consisted of only you, Gojo and his massive cock hitting your deepest parts. Your body rose until only the tip was in before slamming back down.
His hands guided your hips, setting a pace that had both you heated and desperate, and made Gojo's toes curl. The room filled with the sound of skin on skin, wet and obscene, and your breath came in short, sharp bursts.
Your pussy was sore, having been stretched out by Gojo for the first time in over two weeks but you couldn't stop, too dumb on dick. He just felt so so good that you thought you'd die if you did.
"You feel-" He started and you clenched around him deliberately. "Nghhh, god you feel incredible."
"Stop talking."
"I can't, fuck, you're- I lov-"
You kissed him, swallowing whatever he was about to say, and he bit your lower lip, tugging it, one hand sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you harder onto him.
The angle shifted, and suddenly he was hitting placing his feet on the mattress and fucking up into you, dragging your pussy down as he went to work.
"There!" You gasped, breaking the kiss and crying against his lips. "Right there Satoru!"
He grunts, fucking you harder, deeper. Every nerve in his body tuned to the same frequency and the pressure in your belly was spreading outward.
"Satoru-"
"I know." He kisses you. "I can feel you."
The edge was right there, and you were teetering, thighs burning, nails digging into his shoulders. He slid one hand between your bodies, thumb finding your overstimulated clit, and he pressed. Firm, circular, relentless.
It hit you like a dam breaking, every muscle seizing, back arching, a sound ripping from your throat that was straight up pornographic. You clenched around him so hard that he groaned, and you felt him twitch inside you, felt the warmth of him spilling into you as his own orgasm followed yours by mere seconds.
"Fuck, fuck, oh wow- gaaaah, holy shit princess."
You collapsed against his chest and Gojo let his body relax against the bed, cock still seated inside of you, hands rubbing at your back, shoulders burning from the crescent moons you dug into his skin.
"That was," he said.
"Yeah."
"Are we still pretending this doesn't mean anything?"
You pulled back enough to look at him. His hair was a mess, sticking to his sweaty forehead. His eyes were soft and he looked like unbelievably weak, like had given you everything he had and was waiting to see if you'd throw it in his face.
You didn't, too tired to pretend anymore. You had caught feelings for Gojo long before he left the frat and you couldn't control that no matter how hard you tried to.
"It means something," You admitted.
Gojo released a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut as he whispered a silent prayer before looking back at you, eyes watering. You lean down and kiss them, licking the salty water from your lips.
His smile was so wide it cracked your heart open a little. "Was that so scary?"
You smile back, pushing hair from his forehead. "Oh, the scariest. The horror!"
He laughed, and you felt it vibrate through both of you where you were still connected. You climbed off him reluctantly, collapsing onto the bed beside him, and he pulled you to his chest, dragging a blanket over your naked bodies.
You weren't done with him but you'd let him rest for now.
Gojo caught your hand, pulling it to his mouth and kissing your knuckles. You blushed, groaning and digging your face into his chest. You lay there for a bit, basking in the post sex afterglow, his cum still leaking down your thighs and his lips still pressed against your hand.
"We should start writing," You fall to your back, gasping for air after the fifth round, truly fucked out.
"In a minute." Gojo says, following you to the mattress and embedding himself between your legs.
"Satoru."
"Five more minutes, and didn’t I tell you my favorite number is six?." He whispers against your neck, lifting your legs and pushing his cock as deep as it could go.
You rolled your eyes, both in pleasure and defeat. You couldn't resist him even if you wanted to and with the way your pussy was jumping, you clearly didn't want to.
"Fine. Five minutes and you're writing that conclusion wether you want to or not."
He laughs, pulling out before slamming back into you and pushing leftover cum out, your body moving up the bed and the most delicious moan faing from your lips. "This is the conclusion, sweetheart. Research complete, you're mine."
And you realized, with a mix of irritation and happiness, that Gojo was still insufferable and that some things never changed.
"Ms. (last name), can I speak with you for a moment?" Your psychology professor calls as you and Gojo walk toward the door hand in hand.
He leans down to kiss your lips, then your forehead, telling you: "Be right outside the door."
You smile, biting your lip and watching him leave before reluctantly turning to the woman standing a few feet away.
"It seems you and Mr. Gojo have found common ground." Something about her smile made your brows scrunch up, suspicion settling as you moved closer.
"Yeah, guess he's not as bad as I thought." You shrug, kind of annoyed because none of your friends brought up your relationship so why was she?
She nods and hums, looking around before continuing, her smile only growing and you were starting to get irritated. "Is something wrong?" You ask, pushing your bag up your shoulder impatiently. You wanted to get back to Satoru.
"Everything is perfect, actually. You see, I might have been doing a little experiment of my own."
"Oh?" You raise a brow and look around as if telling her to get on with it.
"I paired up those most unlikely to not get along to see how well Newcomb's theory worked in a college setting. Seems he stands corrected and you both passed. Congratulations."
𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓭
❦ lisa's note: aaand that's a wrap on my fratjo mini series! thanks for reading, I hope you guys enjoyed it 🫶 tons more gojo and jjk men coming soon so stick around for that, love you all!
will proofread later, wanted to get this out!
ა ˙˖ summary → there’s no one you hate more than satoru gojo. he’s arrogant and entirely too full of himself. when you agree to be strictly enemies with benefits, gojo takes this as the perfect opportunity to finally make you his.
ა ˙˖ content: 10.7k wc, accurate portrayal of fraternities so the boys are jerks srry, hazing, rough sex, mentions of blood, overstimulation, spanking, choking, desperate gojo, oral sex (both receive), jealous reader, mentions of terrible parents, some fluff, some angst
frat!jo 𝓍 fem!reader
chapter one chapter three
It was an undeniable fact that you were drunk on Gojo’s cock.
In the weeks since you started this arrangement, you fucked almost every day. Your excuse was that you were simply researching for your project, running experiments and proving theories wrong and right.
You were like two magnets that couldn’t resist each other despite your very different personalities and while you still couldn’t see yourself ever being anything other than possibly acquaintances, you would be lying if you said you didn’t warm up to him a smidge.
At least when he was between your legs.
“Satoru, haah, oh fuck!”
You cried as Gojo ate you like you were his last meal, his tongue lapping at your pussy in fast strokes, your back arching off your bed with his white locks gripped tight in your hands.
You hadn’t been able to keep your word and find someone more “digestable” to help satisfy your needs, you hadn’t really even tried when you had him fucking you into forgetting. Only Gojo was becoming more clingy, pestering you to go on a date with him and kissing you more than you cared to admit you enjoyed.
And while you were able to tolerate him in small doses when you weren’t fucking, your stance still stood: you and fratboys didn’t mix, Gojo was hardly the exception and that only extended to sex.
“Such a good girl.” he grumbles, plunging two fingers inside your hole while his tongue worked your clit in fast, relentless circles. You were already close, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he curled them, hitting that sweet spot inside of you.
“You t-talk too much.”
Gojo laughs against your pussy, hot breath blowing on you and pushing you closer to the edge. You gasp when he sucks hard on your clit, electric shocks shooting from the tip of your fingers to the bottom of your toes, body moving up the bed when his hands grab onto your hips and pulls you back down, his face pressed against your heat as he starts sucking you faster and finger fucking you deeper.
“I’m- oh god, fuck Toru, m’gonna-” Your nails are clawing at the sheets as your orgasm ripped through you, words dissolving into a broken moan as you came, your pussy clenching around his fingers, juices dripping down his chin.
Gojo didn’t stop. He kept licking you through the aftershock until you were a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him. Only then did he pull back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and grinning at you.
Fuck him. Fuck his stupid, smug face.
“Look at you.” He says while climbing over your body, still completely dressed in his football clothes, his face shining where he failed to wipe, your arousal mocking you for still sleeping with him a month later. “All glowing and satisfied, my perfect girl.”
You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you glared up at him, spreading your legs wider so he could fit between them. “I still h-hate you, asshole.”
Gojo knew you hated the nicknames he called you and yet he refused to stop. You even had to discipline him once when he called you “love”, going a few days without speaking to him though you’re still not sure if that hurt him more or you, what with your high sex drive.
“Mmm.” He presses his forehead to yours and quickly pecks your lips, his hard-on pressing against your thigh through his shorts. “Now it’s my turn.”
His mouth dropped to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave you yet another hickey you’d have to explain to your friends who were under the impression you weren’t seeing anyone since you dropped your last guy.
You barely had time to process it before he was moving his head back up and kissing you again, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You sunk into it, arms wrapping around his neck and forgetting once again about your little no kissing rule. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples, before sliding down to grip your ass.
Gojo grinds his hard length into you and you moan into his mouth, your pussy clenching and begging for more.
Just as he was about to take his shirt off, a knock came from the door and made you both freeze, your eyes widening in a panic. Fuck, if anyone knew Gojo was in here you’d never hear the end of it.
"Oi!" Shoko's voice echoed through the hallway and it sent your pulse racing. "Open up! I forgot my key again!"
“Closet, now.” You practically hiss, pushing him off of you so you can stand and dress yourself. You were bouncing around the room, jumping into your pajama shorts and shoving Gojo toward the closet, your heart in your ass because the last thing you needed was your friend finding out you had been screwing her friend that you claimed to hate..
Of course, being the insufferable man that he was, Gojo simply took it as a joke and tried to kiss you as you opened the door and pushed him into the closet full of yours and Shoko’s clothes. You pushed his face away with a nasty glare, your cheeks flushed and thighs sticky with your release and his spit.
"You’re seriously gonna stuff me in a clos-"
You shoved him back and slammed the door in his face.
"Coming!" You quickly press down your shirt and smooth out your shorts and hair before moving to open the door for your roommate, praying she wouldn’t notice your messy hair and flushed cheeks and put two and two together.
Most of all you hoped Gojo would keep his fucking mouth shut. Bringing him here had been a terrible idea but he was already on campus when you texted him and you were horny now and didn't want to drive back to his place.
When you finally open the door, Shoko is standing on the other side with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows scrunched together. You smile awkwardly and pull the door further open so she can pass through.
“Sorry. Left my keys in the psych building.”
You clear your throat and smile, closing the door and following her further into the room while pretending like vomit wasn't rising in your throat and your heart wasn’t trying to escape your ribcage.
"What were you doing anyways?" Shoko asks, pushing past you with suspicion written on her face. "I was standing out there for like three minutes."
"Sorry, I was.." You paused, willing your voice to not sound so high pitched, pulling your rising shirt down. "I was in the bathroom."
It’s obvious she doesn’t believe you with the way she’s looking at you, studying your face and looking you up and down and you want to die. How embarrassing would it be to get caught with Gojo of all people after complaining about his existence since freshman year?
“Hm, you look flushed.”
“Yeah, just.. uhm- I just was working out”
Shoko rolls her eyes and starts to look around her side of the room, giving you a second to look at the closet and make sure Gojo didn't decide that he did in fact hate you after all and expose himself.
The door was still closed. At this rate you would be the one to expose yourself by panicking over nothing.
“Were you masturbating?”
Your friend's words have you snapping your head toward her, hair flying in your burning face. No Shoko, I wasn’t masturbating. My enemy just gave me a mind shattering orgasm on his tongue alone and would have done it again if you didn’t interrupt. Any more questions?
Is what you wanted to say, but instead you swallow your annoyance and stick with: ‘No, what makes you ask that?”
"Your face is basically glowing, your hair's messed up, and you took forever to open the door." Shoko shrugged. "I'm just saying, if you were, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone does it. I do it. It's healthy."
Then, for a reason you’d never understand, Gojo decided that now was the best time to laugh. It was low, barely audible but loud enough to make Shoko look toward it with scrunched eyebrows.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! You were going to kill that six foot idiot. What the fuck was he thinking? You were a shaky, sweating mess when your friend turned to look at you, her eyes burning holes through your face.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
She gestures wildly with her arms and nods past you, obviously annoyed at your decision to play dumb. “The noise from the closet! Do you have someone over?”
“I-” You swallow hard, fingers digging into your nails as you try to find a way out of this.
You obviously weren’t going to tell her it was Gojo, but if you did tell her you were hiding someone then she’d never stop trying to figure out who it was. It would be a nightmare and you would have to be twenty times more careful with Gojo or cut off your arrangement before you were able to find a replacement.
Either way, you were fucked.
“Yes.” You huff out, hoping she doesn’t push further and ask who it is but before she can respond, you’re speaking again in an attempt to distract her. "How was the library? Did you finish your paper?"
Shoko stared at the closet for a few more seconds then decided it wasn't worth investigating. She, thankfully, had never really been a noisy girl and you were grateful that she was your roommate instead of Yuki who would have ripped the door open herself.
"Almost. I need another hour, but I forgot my charger and my laptop's at six percent."
When she finally left, you stomped your way to the closet and yanked it open. You were beyond seething, ears on fire from embarrassment and annoyed that you had to tell Shoko you were in fact seeing someone when you wanted this to be left in the dark.
Gojo was wedged between clothes and a shoe rack, his hair slightly disheveled, grinning like a fucking idiot. You wanted to kill him.
“That was close.” He grabs your hip and walks you backwards, trying to kiss at your neck but you’re having any of it, placing your hands at his chest and shoving.
“What?” Gojo frowns at you and gives you his best puppy eyes but it only makes you want to hit him more. You cross your arms to stop yourself, head tilted back so you can look up at him.
“It was ‘close’ because of you! I told you to be quiet and you couldn’t even do that. I should end this right here since you’re apparently a child.”
That wiped the smirk off his face and he was stepping closer, grabbing onto your arm to pull you forward and you let him this time. His hands find your waist again and rub circles on your exposed skin, your body shivering in response.
“It won’t happen again, I promise.” He lets his fingers creep under your shirt, moving higher. “Now where were we?”
“Nowhere. We’re done.”
“Oh come on. I’m literally in pain, don’t leave me with blue balls, princess.” He pulls you flush against his chest but you push back, ignoring every instinct telling you that one quickie wouldn’t hurt.
“No Gojo. I have to work in an hour. I need to shower, eat and get across campus, we’re done here. Go home and figure it out.”
He pouts but you’ve seen enough, leaving him to figure it out as you move toward the bathroom and close the door behind you. You were still pissed at him but even more mad at yourself for still wanting him to fuck you after he almost blew your cover to Shoko. You didn’t really have work today but a cold shower and time to yourself was needed.
“I’ll pay you double whatever your job would.” His voice comes from behind the door, clearly not ready to give up.
Your hand stopped above the shower knob, turning to face the door in disbelief. "What?"
"Your job, sweetheart. Whatever you'd make tonight, times it by two, or three, whatever you want. Just call out and let me stay a little longer."
"Are you serious right now?” You blink, a mix of frustration and amusement coursing through you. “I'm not a prostitute, Gojo."
He doesn’t respond for a minute and just when you think he’s gone, he opens his mouth again. "You're not. I'm just saying your time is worth something, and I'm offering to compensate you for it."
You actually laugh at that, leaning your head against the bathroom door and fighting the urge to scream. "That is literally what a prostitute is."
"Semantics, it's also what a consultant is."
You open the door, deadpanning the too tall frat president, and point to the front entrance.
"Get. Out."
Later that day Gojo was sitting at some shitty bar with his friends, trying to drown out his emotions that were determined to consume him whole.
The same thought has been nagging him for the past two weeks. It wasn’t something he admitted to anyone outside of you, but he had been thinking of leaving his fraternity. Would his father be happy? Probably not. Did Gojo care? Not anymore. He hadn’t even intended on getting into a frat until his father told him he had already signed up on his first day.
Now here he was, a senior, making his own money as an employee of his family business and desperately trying to find a way out of this without blowing up his life. He never wanted to be president but it was another thing that was expected of him so he did it with a forced smile and he never regretted anything more in his life.
Before you came along, Gojo could get any girl he wanted. He never had to work hard to get laid, never cared for relationships either until you humbled him in front of his frat brothers and he just knew he had to have you.
He tried to win your favor over the next two years but when you weren’t avoiding him, you were reminding him just how much you hate frat boys and that he wasn’t your type. So imagine his surprise when you agreed to his proposal of enemies with benefits, though he truthfully had never hated you.
Gojo was trying to be better. Hosting less parties and letting Sukuna and the others take over more, drinking only once or twice a week, focusing more on school work to impress you and even wearing his glasses more and dressing in those nerdy clothes he knew you liked.
People questioned his new sense of style, his friends grew concerned over his lack of involvement and Gojo grew more desperate with each rejection from you. He just needed one date to show you that he can be the guy you deserved, why couldn’t you see the effort he’d been putting in?
While it was obvious you didn’t hate him like you used to, he still was miles away from becoming your friend let alone your boyfriend. Most people would have taken a hint by now, but Satoru Gojo was not most people. He only grew more motivated, determined to show you that he was worthy of being loved back.
“You look miserable."
Gojo looks up from his drink to find Suguru staring at him over the rim of his drink, his dark eyes searching for answers that he wasn’t willing to give. If Gojo told anyone about your relationship, he’d be violating your trust and he was sure he’d lose you forever. He wasn’t going to do that to satisfy his friend's curiosity.
So he simply shrugs and takes another shot, trying to wipe the image of your smile from his head.
“Fuck off.” Gojo picks up a new glass and tries to take a shot but Sukuna snatches it before he can and stretches his arm to keep it away, not at all bothered by the death glare his friend gave him.
“He’s been a pussy since he caught feelings for someone he knows hates him.” He tosses it back.
What? You never said he couldn’t tell people he liked you.
“Drink piss, you overgrown carebear. She doesn’t hate me.” While he knew it wasn’t completely the truth, he let himself live in his delusions. What was the saying? Fake it until you make it. He was simply manifesting your future together.
“Maybe I should shoot my shot, she’s nice enough to me.”
Suguru’s words have Gojo instantly fuming, snapping his head in his friend's direction and wondering if his smug smile is how you view him when he’s teasing you.
“The fuck? You’d actually do that?"
Suguru simply shrugs, unfazed. "Why not? If she’s into me, then you know she’s not into you and you can move on. If she’s not? Well, then it turns out we’re both losers." He took a slow sip, eyes never leaving Gojo’s face. "Might even be fun to see how desperate you get. How about a little friendly competition, huh Satoru?”
Gojo’s jaw clenched, biting his tongue to stop himself from something he’d regret. Something close to: Doubt she’d even look at you when she’s too busy bouncing on my dick.
The thought of Suguru, with his stupidly perfect smile and raven hair the girls loved, making a move on you made his stomach twist. He knew his friend could pull it off. Half the girls on campus already had a crush on him and you weren’t really his girlfriend, you could do whatever you wanted.
But Gojo was never one to back down, holding Suguru’s gaze and shrugging. He would just have to work harder, spend more time with you because there was no way in hell he was going to let anyone else, let alone his childhood friend, have you.
“Why did you join a frat anyways?”
You asked Gojo, looking up from your laptop and across the table. Gojo was wearing his glasses again and you had to keep squeezing your thighs together. That’s not what you were here for. You both had decided to get in a quick study session before the first game of the season, where he'd be playing and you’d be cheering.
It’s been some weeks since you started your arrangement and in that time, you’d been fucking almost everyday and spending most nights at his place under the guise that it was easier studying wise.
“Wasn’t by choice, princess.” His jaw clenched, hand squeezing around the pencil he had been holding, knuckles turning white from the force.
You wanted to laugh at that but you had never seen Gojo show true anger before and figured now wasn’t the best time for that. You still weren’t going to let up though.
“How is that not your choice?” You shift in your chair, ignoring the way his eyes are gazing into yours so softly, even though he was clearly annoyed at your question.
Gojo sighs, dropping the pencil and sitting back in the chair, letting it spin side to side as he stares at you with a titled head. “Generations of my male family members have attended Theta Phi, my dad kinda signed me up without my knowledge.”
You frown, biting the inside of your cheek when his leg rises and he brushes his foot against the inside of your thigh. Your body buzzes with the way he laughs at your glare, reaching down to swap it away.
“How can he even do that? Couldn’t you just.. I don't know, not go?”
Gojo laughs again but it’s more bitter this time, rotten with parental issues you probably shouldn’t get into considering you had your own and discussing your personal lives wasn’t a part of your agreement.
“Now who sounds privileged?”
You give him a straight face, foot lightly kicking at him and rolling your eyes when he grins.
“I’m being serious. My mom wanted me to do gymnastics on a professional level and I had no interest so I just didn’t do it. She eventually got over it.” You shrug.
Well your mom wasn’t completely over it but that wasn’t your business. You made your own discussions and what others felt about them was on them. You’d barely talked to her since you broke the news to her freshman year and your father had died when you were a child so you really only had your sister, with the occasional birthday or holiday text from your mom.
“Not that easy in the Gojo dynasty.” He emphasizes the last word and you can tell by his sneer just how much he hates his family,
“I told him I wasn't doing it. Told him of my dream to become a physics professor and he laughed in my face and threatened to not pay my tuition if I didn’t join.”
He pauses, closing his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.
“My family is filthy rich but you don’t get anything for free. You have to prove that you're worthy of a college inheritance, a spot in the wills, and a position in the family business. My father told me if I didn’t join the frat then I’d only have a spot in the will after college. Didn’t want to graduate with loans so I played along.”
You blinked, the heart that most people claim you don’t have, suddenly aching for Gojo. You hadn’t considered that his family might be a bunch of money hoarding psychopaths but you guessed it made sense with their status.
You never had to worry about your mother paying your tuition, she couldn’t afford it anyways. You survived off of a scholarship and your own income from jobs you worked since you were sixteen. The only thing you had to do was keep your grades up and not be reckless with your money.
You were suddenly grateful to have grown up on the poorer side, because you couldn’t imagine having someone dangle money over your head. Let alone your own parents.
“Physics? Didn’t peg you as the type.” You lean forward and smile softly, elbows on the table with your hands folded in front of you.
He mimics you, eyes brightening and seeming grateful you were changing to topic.
“What? The glasses and secret nerdy clothes didn’t give me away?” His foot plays with yours and you let it, biting back a moan when you think about how his glasses fog up when he fucks you with them on, messy white hair falling in his face.
You had noticed the different physics books lying about his room but never really thought much about it. You couldn’t understand how a parent could treat their child like an investment and not an actual human. With his family money, Gojo could have been one of those students that chased their dreams instead of fortune and actually been happy.
While you still thought he was arrogant and still hated fratboys, this opened a new side of him to you. A side you could empathize with.
“Seriously though Gojo, I'm sorry your family is so shit.”
He leans an elbow on the table, placing his chin in palm and giving you the dreamiest smile, lashes brushing together when he blinks slowly. “Aw, you feel bad for me, princess?”
“No.” Your cheeks burn and you sit back in your chair. Of course he’d ruin this, you were never being nice to him again! “Merely pointing out a fact.”
He pouts and stands. “Well now I'm sad. How about you make me feel better?”
When he pulls you from your seat, you let him, heart racing because this would be the second time this week that Gojo has fucked in you in this very study room, libarians oblivious to the shenanigans the two horny college students were up to.
He grabs your chin while you place your hands on his chest, steadying yourself as he pulls you close. When he leans down to kiss you, you turn your head but he goes straight for your neck. He’s sucking and biting, and you’re hardly trying to shove him off, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your heated skin.
“We have to- mmm, we have to be quick Toru. You have a game and I have to cheer for it, remember?”
He spins you toward the table, pushing you forward and waiting for you to brace yourself. thump! thump! thump! Your heart is going a mile a minute as you dig your hands into the desk, biting your lip when he reaches forward and unbuttons your pants, slowly pulling them down to your feet.
When he rises, you can feel his breath blowing on the back of your calves.. higher to your thighs.. Just beneath your ass and he’s leaving a kiss there, fingers coming up to rub your pussy through your panties.
You suck in a sharp breath and he licks a long strip from your clit to your hole, not bothering to move the fabric.
“Did you know,” He starts, pressing two fingers to your clit and rubbing, holding your leg tight to keep you still. “psychology says that the more you hate someone, the more you fixate on them and that it can turn into passion.”
You bite your lip, moving your hips back for more friction and growing annoyed when he holds you dead still, lightly tapping at your thigh as a warning. These were the only moments you’d ever bite your tongue, because while you loved to dom him, you loved for him to dominate you more.
"Do you love me yet, sweetheart?"
“Fuck you, S-satoru.”
He laughs, kissing your ass before standing up, the sound of him digging through his pockets and ripping open the condom sending chills through your body.
Gojo pushes his boxers down and slides the condom onto his cock with ease, holding onto your ass and taking a moment to breathe because the sight of you was almost too good to be true.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so fucking soaked for me, you want me to fuck you now?”
You push your hips against him, the warmth of his girthy cock rubbing against your ass. “Fucking obviously.”
"Ask nicely." He’s back to his teasing voice and you want to rip your hair out. It’s been a day since you had sex and you needed him desperately, even if you’d never tell him that.
"Gojo." You groan, fingers burning from how hard they dug into the wooden table.
"That's not nice." He leans over your back, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him. "Try again."
You grabbed his wrist and dug your nails in. "If you don't fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I'm going home."
Gojo laughs out a “That’s my girl.” and kisses you quickly before pulling back up.
He moves your panties out of the way and pushes inside in one smooth motion. You gasp, spine arching when he pushes it down, pulling you further back onto his cock. He was thick, stretching you open so perfectly, your walls gripping around him possessively.
Gojo sets a brutal pace from the start, his hips slamming against your ass with each thrust. The table creaked beneath you, and somewhere in the back of your mind you worried about someone hearing, but the thought was distant, drowned out by the pleasure building low in your belly.
You cover your mouth with your hand, biting down onto your palm when he wraps your hair in his fist and pulls your head back, scalp burning from the sting of it.
“This is what you needed, isn’t it?” His voice was strained, losing some of its usual cocky smoothness as lost himself in your cunt. "Acting like you’re too good for me, but your pussy tells a different story.”
You hate him, you really fucking do. You wanted to snap back at him, to say something cruel, but he angled his hips just right and hit that spot inside you that made you see stars. All that came out was a moan, loud and shameless in the quiet library.
He slows his hips just a little, yanking your body up against his. You glare at him but he doesn’t care, just grabs your jaw and squeezes until you move your hand.
“You want the entire library to know how well you take my cock?” He asks, peering down at you and you once again, find yourself drifting in his eyes, pulse skipping beats from the way he looks at you.
You can’t speak so you just shake your head no, licking your bottom lip and pushing your hips back against him. He leans down and kisses you, sucking your tongue into his mouth and moving his hand to rub your clit.
“Then shut the fuck up, princess.”
Gojo doesn’t give you the opportunity to respond before he’s slamming his hips back into yours, cock rubbing against your gummy walls and sending you spiraling. You were so close, inner walls clenching around him, your whole body trembling with the effort of holding back, waiting for him.
“Fucking pussy squeezing the life out of me, shit, gonna cum already, princess.”
Gojo never slows his pace, your lower body bumping into the table with each brutal thrust, his hand on your clit rubbing harsh circles. Tears seep from your eyes and you don’t see it but they fall from his too and straight into your hair, his free arm wrapping around body and pulling you close.
He leans his head down to your neck, sniffing deep and inhaling in your scent, mind spinning from your pheromones and his eyes rolling back. He squeezes you tight, the sound of his erratic breathing in your ear, clouding your senses, driving you fucking insane.
You hated to admit it but you loved when he was clingly like this, taking up your space while he fucked and prasied you. You often think of how different things could have been if he wasn’t who he was.
After one hard thrust, your knees buckled and you fell forward, Gojo going down with you. Your cheek laid against the cold surface, and Gojo hovered over you, his chest against your back, his mouth next to your ear.
“You drive me crazy, fuck, just let me make you mine already. Please, baby. Give me a chance.”
You wheeze out a laugh and he shifts his angle, hitting something that made your toes curl inside your sneakers, and the laugh turned into a whimper that you muffled against your own arm.
Gojo noticed, because of course he did. He adjusted, angling his hips to hit that spot again, and again, and again, each thrust a deliberate press that made your vision blur.
He looked at you and grounded low in his throat. Your eyes were half-closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed. He was claiming you in body and soul and you didn’t even realize it yet. The only trick was your stubborn mind, getting you to see that you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.
"Say you want this. Say you want me." He kisses you and looks you in the eyes as he fucks you, his own pleading.
You squeeze your eyes shut up, biting into your fist to keep quiet as your orgasm crept up on you.
He made a sound of annoyance and slammed into you, your teeth greeting, nails leaving marks on the table that would surely tell anyone else what happened here. The orgasm that had been building crashed into you without warning, rolling through you in waves that made your thighs shake and your breath come in short, ragged gasps.
You bit down on your own tongue to keep quiet and tasted salt and blood.
Gojo’s rhythm faltered, his grip on your hip tightening as he fucked you through it. Slower now, deeper, grinding his hips against your ass on every downstroke. You were still clenching around him when his breathing changed and his forehead dropped to your shoulder.
"Close," he huffed.
"Then finish."
He thrust three more times, balls squeezing as he groaned with each stroke, and then he buried himself deep and held still. His legs strained and shook as he drained himself inside of you, and you felt the pulse of his cock through the condom, felt the way his whole body tensed and then released.
His breath was hot and uneven against your shoulder. He stayed there for a long moment, his weight pressing you into the table, both of you breathing hard.
You let him stay like that for a minute, the heat of his chest pressed against your back and your eyes fluttering closed as you came back down to earth. Something had changed this time and you couldn’t tell what it was but you felt it deep in your soul and it scared the fuck out of you.
Just when you were about to tell him to get off, he started to slowly pull out.
You felt the warmth immediately, the wet cum against your thigh. You turned your head, looking down between your bodies, and saw it. The condom had fucking ripped at the top!
"Gojo."
He stood up and looked at you, expression going from satisfied to panicked in about half a second.
"What’s wrong?"
You point to his cock, hair matching his and sticking to your sweaty face. "That’s what’s wrong."
"Shit." He grabbed the condom off his half hard cock and held it up. It was still mostly intact, but the seal had in fact broken at the base. "Shit, I’m sorry. How much got in you?"
“Just get something I can clean myself with.” You fight the urge to curse him out, knowing it wasn’t really his fault. You trusted that Gojo was only sleeping with you and you were on birth control so that wasn’t an issue. But what exactly was the problem?
Gojo pulls his pants and boxers back, moving around the table to grab a box of tissue at one of the desks and handing you a few. He watched as you wiped between your thighs, cum leaking from your pussy and the sight has his cock twitching in his jeans. Something possessive and nasty at the thought of you leaking with his seed while Suguru tried to steal you from him.
“I’m on the pill, remember? Relax.” You notice his strained face and wrongly assume it’s because he’s having a pregnancy scare. You had no fucking idea.
When you’re both decent enough, Gojo stops you before you leave out, hand on your arm as he stares down at you. You raise a brow, eyes wandering and fighting back a smile at the sight of your strawberry lipstick on the side of his mouth. Hot.
"Suguru asked about you.”
You give a confused smile, wondering what that had to do with you. You like Suguru, you weren’t close but still friends. Why would he be asking Gojo about you? The thought made your stomach ache.
“Did he?”
Gojo looks like he’s trying to keep his annoyance in check, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Mhm, I think he likes you. Said he’s gonna try to make a move on you.”
Your frown this time, even more confused than before. Sure, you thought he was cute that one time during freshman year but you never really thought much about him outside of the very few times you hung out with the girls.
“I don't date frat boys."
"Right. You just sleep with them."
You can hear the malice in his voice and now you’re annoyed, not wanting anything to do with whatever rivalry he and Suguru had going on. You snatch your arm away from him and deadpan him, a storm quietly building in your chest.
“I sleep with you.” You correct him. “A serious lapse of judgement, not a fucking pattern. I’m not interested in your friend.”
Gojo scuffs, taking a step back with hurt in his eyes. “A lapse of judgement? That’s what we’re calling this?”
“That’s exactly what we’re calling this.” You say with more venom than you mean to, annoyed that he was accusing you of something you hadn’t even done nor had any plans to.
“Keep lying to yourself, (name). I won’t be around to watch it.”
He pushes past you and you’re left confused on what the fuck just happened.
A week goes by without you seeing each other. Gojo doesn’t call or text, so you don’t either.
You pretend that the anonymous flowers placed outside of your door aren’t from him, that the late night deliveries of beef bowls or your favorite sweets weren’t placed there by a certain 6’3 white haired frat president.
He was mad at you for something you didn’t do and while you told yourself you didn’t care, you hated the permanent knot in your stomach. You had grown used to spending most of your nights at his place, asleep in his bed and waking up to him with his arms wrapped around you.
You told yourself that you hated it, hated him, but the truth was you weren’t sure what you felt anymore.
You didn’t love Gojo but you had learned to tolerate his presence, even felt your ice cold heart melting a bit around him. You told yourself that this was simply sex, but you had unknowingly found yourself finding comfort in his presence. So having your new norm snatched away from you made you feel sick.
So what did you do? You ignored him.
You go back to using your toys to get off, even if it does nothing but leave you sexually frustrated once again. You work on your project alone and send him copies of your research notes through google drive, but that’s as far as communication between you two went.
You had never in your life begged a man to speak to you, to take you back and you weren’t going to start now. Gojo was a frat boy at the end of the day, maybe it was for the best that you cut things off.
It’s better this way.
"You look like shit," Shoko says, leaning against the doorframe of your shared bathroom with a mascara wand in one hand.
"Thanks," you muttered, not looking up from the sink.
You didn’t want to go out, would rather stay home and get ahead of school work but your friends wouldn’t hear it. They told you that you were too depressed and it was making them depressed and when you tried to argue, they literally pulled up texts to show the difference in the way you texted a week ago vs now.
You didn’t deny that you were a bit drier than usual but blamed it on school and cheer stress, what will all the games going on.
They didn’t believe it, which is why you found yourself fixing your hair and makeup, and squeezing into a body tight red dress. Girls night out at the club, dress your sluttiest! Yuki had said.
"I'm serious. Are you sick? Are you dying? Should I call someone?"
"I'm not dying, Shoko."
She sighs and looks over at you but you don’t face her. Can’t face her. "Then what's wrong with you?"
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You turned off the faucet and dried your hands on the towel, avoiding eye contact because Shoko had this creepy way of reading people, and right now you did not want to be fucking read.
You were going to get pissy drunk and forget that you ever agreed to that stupid arrangement in the first place.
You meet Yuki and Utahime at the club around eight, annoyed that your boobs keep spilling out of your top and the way men that were definitely married with children keep looking at you.
It was at that moment that you realized when Gojo had been leaving you covered in hickeys, no one ever batted an eye at you and now that most had faded, heads were starting to turn again.
It made you hate him more for doing this to you. Making you so fucking stupid.
The club was packed, some DJ from out of town was performing (he wouldn’t stop saying it), and the bass was already rattling in your chest before you even got to your reserved booth. Yuki ordered a round of shots as soon as you sat, and Utahime was already scanning the room for cute guys. You could feel Shoko looking but tried your best to ignore her, skin tight with an annoying wave of anxiety.
You had the sudden urge to throw up and were thankful when Yuki arrived with drinks, immediately grabbing a shot glass and tossing it back.
Utahime leaned across the table, her purple hair falling in her face as she looked at you with concerned eyes that pissed you off. Everyone was treating you like a baby when you were fine!
“Okay seriously, what’s going on? You look like you’re experiencing your first heartbreak.”
You blink, feigning innocence with a forced smile. “What do you mean?”
"You've been weird lately," Yuki added, not even trying to be subtle about it because she never gave a fuck. "Like, mopey and it’s concerning but annoying."
You roll your eyes. They’re being dramatic as usual. Just because you hadn’t been fucked in seven days didn’t mean you were mopey. Sure, your pussy literally ached every day to be fucked but that you always took care of it, even if your sex drive only grew more and more.
“I’m fine. I’m just tired from studying for midterms.”
“Look.” Shoko cuts in, taking a shot and turning to face you better. She takes your hand in yours and you fight the urge to snatch it away.
“I don’t know who that guy was, but it seemed like he really made you happy. Maybe reach out to him and try to fix things. I hate to see you down.”
You scuff, lightly pulling your hand away and tasking another shot. “There is no other guy.”
“Really? So what about when I caught you hiding a guy in the closet like two weeks ago, that was a lie?”
Your face flushed at the memory but you swallow it and hide deep in your heart, veins jumping at the image of his face.
“Whoever he is,” Yuki continues. “you should have hot make up sex or whatever. You've been down since whatever happened, and life's too short to be miserable over a boy."
"Can you all just fuck off?” You snap, anger burning hot in your chest. “Seriously. I'm not down. I'm not miserable. There's no fucking guy."
None of the girls seem convinced but they drop the topic anyways and move onto how Yuki and Choso broke up. You take this time to collect yourself, blaming your outburst on not getting laid and not because you couldn’t stop thinking about the one person you “hated” most.
That’s when you looked up and saw him. Gojo walked in the front entrance like he owned it, Sukuna and Toji on his left and Suguru to his right.
Your breath got stuck in your throat. He looked otherworldly, in a back shirt that clung tight to his chest and showed off his muscles that he usually kept hidden. His shades were covering his eyes, white hair tucked behind his ears and his jeans showed off that perfect thin waist you loved to hold onto whenever he fucked you missionary.
Your heart dripped to your stomach when you got a closer look, because on Gojo's arm was a girl you didn’t recognize.
She was pretty. Brunette, tall, wearing a bodycon dress that hugged every curve, and she was clinging to his bicep like it was a lifeline. Laughing at something he said, tilting her head in that flirty way that made you want to throw up right there.
But when you looked at Gojo, he looked miserable. His smile didn’t reach as high as you knew it could, his jaw was tight and his head kept turning to look elsewhere, as if he’d rather be anywhere but there.
"Oh, great," Utahime muttered after following your line of sight. "The frat brigade."
They came over because that’s just your fucking luck. Sukuna spotted your booth first and steered the whole group in your direction, because Sukuna had zero boundaries and loved making people uncomfortable which is why you hated him maybe even more than you hated Gojo.
"Hey, ladies," Sukuna said with a grin that was all teeth, sitting next to Shoko. "Looking hot as fuck tonight."
"Looking like a felon, as always," Your roommate replied flatly, unamused.
Suguru laughed and slid into the booth next to Yuki. Toji grabbed a chair from a nearby table and flipped it around, straddling it. And Gojo..
Gojo sits directly across from you, the brunette settling beside him, still attached to his arm. You roll your eyes.
“Hey.” He says to no one in particular, even though you can see his eyes linger on yours through his shades and you feel your heart skipping literal beats. What the fuck was that about?
You look away, reaching for another drink and looking away, fingers trembling just slightly around the glass, eyes glancing at the dance floor. Fucking get it together.
You listen as Gojo introduces the girl, not caring to catch her name and just that she’s apparently a friend of a friend. You listen as everyone says hello, and give her a silent mode and strained smile.
The conversation shifted naturally, Sukuna talking about the latest football game where they crushed the rival 4-1. You were there obviously, performed your cheer routine and pretended like Gojo wasn’t somewhere all hot and sweaty. It was a true test to your strength to not walk up to him that night.
"Gojo scored three of those goals," Suguru said, nodding to him. "Man of the match, again."
"Three goals," Toji repeated, stealing one of your shots and winking at you when you flip him off. "And he still looked like someone kicked his dog after the game."
The girl leaned into Gojo and whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, it made him exhale through his nose, not quite a laugh but enough for your jealousy to creep to the surface.
Something hot and ugly twisting in your chest.
Fuck this! You weren't going to sit here act like some desperate whore when men literally beg at your feet for a chance to fuck you. Screw Gojo, there were plenty of fish in the sea and one was bound to match your freak.
You tossed back the shot that had been sitting in front of you, slammed the glass on the table hard enough to make everyone look at you, and stood up. You yanked down the hem of your dress and walked away without a word.
“Where are you going?”
You heard Shoko yell after you but you ignored her, venom dripping from your pores with each step. It was time to remind yourself who you were, and that wasn’t some cock drunk slut who moped over a man she hated anyways.
You pushed through the crowd until you reached the dance floor, where the music was loud enough to drown out your anger and started dancing
Your hips moved in circles, arms raised above your head, eyes closed as the music flowed through you. The bass was like a second heartbeat and you let it take you somewhere else. To a place where you didn’t have to think about Gojo and his stupid fucking face or the fact that he shows up with a girl on his arm after not texting you for a week.
You felt a guy appear behind you, his hands on your waist as he started moving with you, pulling your back against his chest. You let him even though you felt nothing. No spark, no heat, literally nothing. Just unfamiliar hands on your body and the faint smell of cologne that wasn't the one you were used to.
You were doing it on purpose, you knew that. Dancing with a stranger because you wanted Gojo to see, for him to feel even a fraction of what you felt watching that girl cling to him.
It took him about four minutes. You counted and smirked when he appeared in the crowd, leaning against a pole as he watched you with his glasses pushed up and malice in his eyes.
You lean into the guy more, letting his hands roam up your chest. Gojo smirks when he squeezes your boob, taking a sip of his drink and tilting his head.
You're breathless, annoyed that he thinks this is a joke and grabs the man’s hand roughly, guiding it down your dress further and further, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re supposed to be forgetting about.
When the stranger's hand is touching your bare thigh, Gojo breaks, passing his drink to someone and making his way through the crowd.
You hardly blink when a hand closes around your wrist and yanks away from the confused stranger with enough force that you stumble. Gojo keeps you upright even though his cheeks are clearly red from anger, glaring down at you like you insulted him.
“What the fuck are you doing? You some kind of whore now?” He leans down, voice tight and low against your ear.
You yank your arm back and take a step back, chest heaving as you squared up to him. “How fucking dare you? You're not my boyfriend, Gojo. You don't get to drag me around like I'm your property."
He stared at you, those blue eyes sharp and frustrated. "You're right. I'm not your boyfriend. Because you won't let me be!"
You're quiet for a split second, nostrils flared and fists balled at your side, heat moving up your chest to your neck.
“Can we not do this here?”
He laughs, grabbing your arm and pulling you close again, towering over you and forcing you to tilt your head back to see him.
“Why not? You were so brave a few seconds ago, let’s air our shit out right here. Don’t be embarrassed now, it’s beneath you.”
"You have a new fuck buddy now," you say, crossing your arms and purposely pushing your boobs up. "So I don't see why any of this is your problem."
"She's not my fuck buddy. My friends set it up because they think I need to move on from you." He ran a hand through his white hair, messing it up. "Sukuna literally said I've been unbearable to live with since we stopped talking."
"Boo hoo." You lack any sympathy considering he’s the one that walked out on you. Fuck. Him.
"Will you stop being a bitch for five seconds?"
"Excuse me?"
He steps closer, evading your space to the point that you only smell him and his fuck ass cologne, nose greedily breathing it in. “You heard me.”
“You’re not my boyfriend because you’re not my type! Now fuck off and let me forget anything ever happened between us.”
He laughed but it was hollow, lacking any true emotions. “But I’m your type when I’m inside of you.”
Your face is a fucking furance, especially when you realize others are looking. Your mouth opens and closes, searching for some witty response but your mind draws a blink. This was humiliating. How did you go from a secret situationship to publicly yelling at each other because you were jealous of the other giving someone else attention?
Your life was a fucking mess.
“Fuck you Gojo.”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He smirks and it’s hateful and lust, making your nipples harden underneath your bra.
Without thinking, you grab his shirt and pull his mouth against yours, kissing him hard enough that your teeth clack. It was angry and messy, and you bit his lower lip until he hissed, and his hands were on your hips and then your ass, pulling your chest flat against his.
His tongue sweeps into your mouth as you moan and shamelessly grind against his leg, his hands guiding your hips back and forth. The music is blasting, your mind is on a different planet and you don’t notice the way your friends are looking from the booth in pure shock.
When you gain some common sense and remember where you are, you pull away and look at Gojo with glassy eyes, relishing in the way his lips are red from your kisses.
“Wanna fuck Toru?”
When he nods yes, you're dragging him by his hand through the crowd and into the men's bathroom.
There’s no words needed when the door closes, so you drop to your knees and start unblocking his belt and unzipping his pants. Gojo is clearly flustered, but helps you pull his pants and boxers down with shaking hands.
He watches you with one hand braced on the wall and the other moving to grab your hair, lips parted as he breathed heavily.
You stroke him a few times, thumb rubbing over the red tip and spreading the pre before taking him into your mouth without warning. Gojo curses under his breath, hips jerking forward, and you wrap one hand around the base while you work the rest with your tongue.
This was your first time going down on Gojo but no one would know with the way you easily take him, swallowing his cock until it’s down your throat.
You’re sloppy about it, letting salvia drip down your chin and onto your exposed chest, sucking his cock like a pornstar, your mouth making obscene wet noises. You suck hard, looking up at him through wet eyelashes and watching his face contort, jaw clenched and eyes dark.
“Fuck,” He breathed, hands tightening in your hair and guiding you to suck faster. “Just like that.”
You took him deeper, relaxing your throat and letting him control your movements. His hips start to move, slow thrust that make him hit the back of your throat and your eyes water. When you moan around he shudders and reaches a hand down to stroke your cheek.
"You're so good at this," he said, voice rough. "You're so good at pretending you don't want me, but look at you. My little cock obsessed slut."
You pull back just enough to run your tongue along the underside, from base to tip, and smirk when he makes a sound that’s almost a whimper. You take him back in, bobbing your head in a rhythm that matches the muffled bass from the club.
“Haah, fuck!” You could feel him getting close, the way his thighs tensed, the way his breathing turned ragged.
"Wait, princess, fuck, I'm gonna-"
You don’t pull off. When he cums, you swallow all of it, throat working at his cock as he shoots hot ropes of thick cum into your mouth. His groan is wrecked, a raw sound torn from somewhere deep in his chest, and his fist slams against the wall as his knees threaten to buckle. You held him there, mouth sealed tight around him, until the last tremor faded and he was just a gasping, trembling mess.
Then you let him slip free, wipe the spit and salt from your lips with the back of your hand, and tilt your face up to meet his stunned, glassy stare. If you knew how hot his moans were when getting his dick sucked, you would have done this sooner.
“Wanna get out here?”
When you made it to Gojo’s place, you both wrestled each other’s clothes off and didn’t make it to his room before he was inside of you. He took you on the couch two times and once in the kitchen, bent over the sink as he fucked you hard and deep.
Now you were laid on your back on his bed, watching as he reached for another condom. Before you could stop yourself, you let your heart lead for once and called his name to stop him.
“No condom this time.”
He freezes, looking back down at the latex and back at you. “What?”
“Wanna feel you this time Toru, please?”
And he broke, tossing it and climbing back over your body and kissing from your tits back up to your face, stopping to lick inside of your mouth, his hard cock pressing against your entrance. He pauses, looking down at you with his white hair falling to the sides of his face, all sweaty from your previous sessions.
“Say it again.”
You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pull him back down and nipping at his lip. “I want you Satoru, wanna feel you raw.”
He gives a shaky breath and without wasting any more time, pushes into you slowly, stopping every inch to savor your warmth around him. Feeling him bare inside of you made you gasp and claw at his shoulders, the new sensation of his pulsing cock making you feel lucid.
He groaned against your neck, stilling once he was fully seated, letting you adjust to the new feeling as he fought the urge to bust a fat fucking nut.
"You feel so good," he said, voice cracking. "Fuck, you feel-"
"Move," you whisper, scratching down his back.
He started slowly, rolling his hips in deep, deliberate thrusts that hit every nerve ending you had. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moaned your name against your collarbone.
This was different from every other time. Before, it had been fast and rough and detached on your end, two people using each other to blow off steam. This was something else entirely. He was looking at you, really looking at you, and there was so much emotion in his eyes that you felt tears prick at your own.
He licks them away, both hands reaching down to grab onto your ass so he can pound you harder.. faster, so fucking deep. He moves faster, and you meet him thrust for thrust, your bodies naturally finding a rhythm that has your heart lurching.
The pressure built inside you and when that coil snapped and you came for the fourth time, you came hard, back arching off the bed, mouth open in a silent cry, clenching around him so tightly that he followed you over the edge with a groan that sounded like your name.
“Fuck-, I love you, sweetheart. Fucking love you so much.”
He buried himself deep, groaning loud and squeezing your ass hard enough to leave a print. His hips moved in circles as he emptied himself and you felt it, the warmth of him spilling into you, no barrier, nothing between you, and it was so intimate that you felt tears slip again.
You let him hold you that night even though you don’t hold him back, mind stuck on the fact that Gojo loves you and now your relationship would never be the same.
You woke up first that day and deeply regret it.
The morning light was creeping in and your body was sore enough that you almost regretted riding him two more times after, letting him stuff you full until his balls were empty. Gojo was still asleep beside you, one arm thrown over his face, white hair a mess on the pillow. You slipped out of bed carefully, pulling on one of his oversized soccer jerseys that fell to your mid-thigh, and padded barefoot into the hallway.
You were snooping, just trying to use the bathroom when you noticed one of his draws were still open and a bunch of polaroids were spilling out. You told yourself you were just going to fix them so they wouldn’t get destroyed.
You pulled the draw open, heart lurching when the first one you saw was a photo of you. What the fuck..
It was from sophomore year, the one time you went bowling with your friends and had been forced to interact with Gojo. He had been taking photos but you never thought about it. It wasn’t creepy, just an off guard photo of you laughing at something and it made you sick.
You started digging through the rest, ears burning when you found a few more of you off guard, some of you with the girls that he took. You looked so happy in all of them, Gojo’s photography style making it look like you were the center of his world.
Your fingers trembled as you flipped through the polaroids, each one a moment you barely remembered. He'd seen you. Really seen you. And you spent two years hating him because he wore Greek letters on his chest and you built your whole personality around hating everything that stood for.
Your throat aches, eyes burn. You press your palm flat against the sink to steady yourself, knees weak and blood running cold.
When you grabbed a few photos and turned to confront him, Gojo was standing in the doorway. He was shirtless, sleep still in his eyes, and he looked from your face to the open drawer with an expression that could only be described as pure panic.
"How long?" You ask, holding up the photos. "Satoru, how long have you been taking pictures of me?"
❦ lisa's note: messy af tbh! one more part to go, lemme know what ya think :')
synopsis— nerdjo is your tutor who’s secretly obsessed with you. what happens when he finally breaks?
warning: smut so, MDNI!!! gojo is OBSESSED!! pinv sex. rough sex? finger-sucking. fingering. nose bleeds. unprotected sex. cream pie. edging. dom!gojo. PUSSYDRUNK gojo. tummy bulge. oral (f.receiving). slight dry humping. mentions of masturbation (m). confessions. getting together in the end.
note: hellooo!! i’m actually shocked that a few people saw, and enjoyed my last upload. thank you so muuuuch!! i figure i might as well get this brain working and give you another. please bare with me, im not the greatest at writing smut. when the idea popped into my head, i just HAD to write it out. i hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave your honest feedback<3
never in a million years did satoru gojo expect that he’d become your arranged tutor for the end of semester exam. the man has quite literally been obsessed with you since the start of the school year.
how could he not be obsessed? you were gorgeous, not just on the outside. he loved the way that you were so kind to everyone around. he loved how you shared your materials with others when they ran out. he loved how you’d smile and wave at him when you’d catch him staring.
so yeah, he was pretty freaked out the first time you guys met up in his dorm to study. though, satoru gojo was the type to seem unbothered on the outside no matter how he truly felt. he’d stay calm when explaining formulas to you, he’d have a kind but neutral expression on his face through the few hours you were over.
once you’d leave, he’d face palm and groan to himself as if feeling guilty for feeling so strongly for you. as days passed and you’d come over everyday after class to study, his infatuation only grew deeper. he’d catch himself seeking you out in class and studying your every move rather than focusing on the lecture.
it didn’t stop there, he started having thoughts. dirty, nasty thoughts that made him feel sick with guilt. he thought he’d suppressed them, until you’d come back over to his dorm to study.
he noticed that you’d always wear such short skirts. his eyes would drop to your thighs, they look so soft and he just wants to squeeze them. his eyes focused on your face would drop down as you’d lean forward to take a look at his notebook.
your breast nearly busting out the seams of your low cut shirt. he’d grit his jaw, fist clenching under his desk. even down to the way you’d smile when he told you that you were doing a good job with the equations. the way you’d twirl a strand of your hair in concentration.
it’s almost like you’re taunting him on purpose. he tried, really tried to push those feelings aside. that is until one day in class, you’d dropped your pencil. you’d bent down right in front of his desk to pick it up. he didn’t mean to look, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away.
he saw it, that baby pink thong you’d had on that day beneath your skirt. he’d saw way more of your soft ass then what he should’ve. he tears his eyes away before anyone catches him.
heat travels straight down to his groin, his jeans suddenly feel suffocating. he crosses his legs to hide his raging boner. his focus is gone, eyes staring down at his notebook as the clock ticks almost mockingly.
as soon as he’s back to his dorm, he shoving his pants down. his cock flushed, leaking, and so painfully erect. every time he closes his eyes, the scene flashes before his eyes. gripping himself and stroking in fast, tight motions.
he’s too hot and out of it to feel guilty for thinking of you this way. all he’s focused on now is the way his hand grips his aching cock, pretending it was yours.
he thought that finishing to the thought of you would make the thoughts somehow magically disappear. oh was he incredibly wrong. they didn’t just go away, they got worse. the vision of you under him would haunt him even in deep sleep.
he’d wake up before his alarm, groaning as his hips rut against his mattress to try and surpress the ache between his legs. no matter what he did, the thoughts never went away. even though he kept things professional whenever he’d actually be around you.
then the day came. you knocked on his door, test results in hand and a big, proud smile on your face. he’d invite you in, smile, and congratulate you.
then the realization would hit, the tutor arrangement has ended now. no, no he couldn’t let you go. not after being this close to confessing.
hearing you say that your leaving, that the arrangement period has ended, and sounding so okay with it is what sent him to his breaking point. it’s the way that you think he’d be okay with just letting you go after tempting him for weeks. his resolve crumbles.
you’re in the middle of thanking him for all of his help, for helping you become successful. he’s sitting back in his desk chair, facing you. his eyes deadpanned on your face.
when you finish speaking, he erupts into a deep laughter. his shoulders shake as he places his hands over his face. you give him a confused look. “satoru? did i say something funny? i don’t understand.” his laughter simmers to a low chuckle.
he slide his glasses off with careful hands, folding them up and setting them on his desk. he’s leaned back in his desk chair. “of course, you don’t understand. gosh y/n…you really have no clue, huh?” his eyes lift to your face.
your body goes still on the other side of his room, brows still furrowed. his hands find the arm rest of his chair, pushing himself to his feet. he takes slow steps after slow steps towards you.
“you think that’s it? that you get to run off after i’ve spent so long helping you get to this point?” his voice is low, and rough with something you can’t quite put a finger on. “wasn’t that the point of the arrangement?” you murmur, lashes blinking up at him as his steps bring him closer and closer to you.
you find yourself taking steps backward. “that’s true, but that all went away the moment you first showed up in that slutty little skirt.” he scoffs a reply. “satoru..” you breath out and he finally steps right in front of you, leaving nowhere for you to turn. your back is against the wall.
“i’ve been driving myself mad with just the thought of you. you can’t just walk out when i feel this strongly for you. tell me…you feel the same, don’t you?” his voice comes out in a whisper. his piercing blue eyes staring right through you. you blink up at him.
the tension between you two is so thick you could cut it with a knife. a flush creeps up your neck and cheeks, you turn your head to the side to avoid his gaze.
his hand cups your cheek, turning you to look at him again. “you like me don’t you, pretty girl?” his eyes flick between yours. you let out a shaky exhale. “yes…i like you, a lot.” your words come out airy and soft.
his thumb traces over your bottom lip. “i knew you did baby. all this time and you were just begging to get my attention. you’ve got it baby, you’ve got it all.” he leans closer, hand slipping into your hair to tilt your head back as he crowds you against the wall.
his body presses to yours and he towers over you. you feel heat coiling low in your gut. a feeling you haven’t felt in quite sometime. you’ve never seen this side of satoru before, it’s exciting. “well now that you know, what’re you going to do with that information?” your voice rolls out in a whisper.
his face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath fanning against your lips. a smirk curls on his face, almost evil. his hand in your hair tightens just a bit more. his head leans down beside your ear. “oh baby, there’s so much i plan to do with that.” his voice low and deep in your ear.
his warm breath fanning against your neck. his lips brushing right against your pulse point. “like what..?” you breath out quietly. your chest rising and falling as the anticipation and excitement builds.
a silence falls between you both for a moment. next thing you know, his mouth is on yours. it’s not sweet or slow in the slightest. it’s deep, and rough. your tongues tangle and teeth clash. his hand has a firm grip on your jaw as he devours your mouth.
he yanks your body up against the wall, your legs instantly wrap around his hips. he carries you over to the bed, tossing you down with a force that knocks a soft breath from your chest. he’s back on you in an instant.
his hips slot between your legs, lips taking yours in another deep kiss. he groans into your mouth when you nip his bottom lip. his hips roll against you, giving you the first feel of his erect cock beneath his sweatpants.
you gasp, the kiss breaking. his hips continue to roll against you in nasty circles. “you feel that? you feel what you fuckin do to me baby?” he grits out as a moan rolls off his tongue.
his lips trail down your neck in hot, open-mouthed kisses. he sucks on that sweet spot right below your ear. you open your mouth to speak but satoru beats you to it.
“don’t worry, i’ll make sure you feel it, all of it. you just be good f’me and take it baby, okay?” his voice comes out low and rough. his tongue flicks out and drags along the fresh mark on your neck, you let out a shaky sigh.
he breaks away from you, almost tearing your clothes apart by how eager he is to get them off of you. your shirt is first to go, bra following right after. he stops a moment to look at your bare breasts, nipples peaked.
he can’t resist, each of his hands grab handfuls of your tits. he squeezes, mushing them around. his thumbs graze over your hardened nipples, then pinching and rolling them between his fingers. the motion draws a shaky sigh from your lips.
“oh baby, you’re perfect.” he comes down to press a sweet kiss right between your breasts. his hands drag down your sides, curling into the waistband of your skirt and tugging it off.
his eyes almost light up at the sight beneath it. that same, baby pink thong he’d caught a glimpse of that day you’d bent over in front of him. “this fuckin thong…haunting me..” his voice rumbles out in a gravelly tone. his finger curls into the elastic band, pulling it back then releasing it to crack against your skin.
you yelp at the sting, the sound making satoru chuckle deeply. he leans down to press a opened mouthed kiss right to where the stinging skin starts to welt.
he lifts up, arms crossing on either side of his body and curling into the hem of his shirt. he lifts it up and over his head, tossing it to the floor. he’s quite chiseled for someone who mostly studies.
his hands push your thighs apart, exposing the damp patch on those infamous baby pink panties. he grins to himself, eyes traveling up your body to meet your eyes.
the way you look right now, mostly naked, hair splayed over his pillows and with that needy look on your face. it’s something straight out of satoru’s dreams.
“d’you know how long i’ve wanted this? this exact moment has played in my head so many times, but of course this tops any fantasy i could ever have.” he hums out, his hand tugging the strings of his sweatpants undone.
once the sweatpants drop, you catch a glimpse of the raging hard on beneath his boxers. your eyes widen. for a nerdy guy, you definitely weren’t expecting him to be packing a fucking monster in his pants.
a low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “i know, crazy right? don’t worry, i wont hurt you baby, i’ll be sooo good to you.” he leans down presses kisses to your face. his hand travels between you both, finding its way to your clothed pussy.
his fingers press against your clit through the damp fabric, rubbing slow circles. you let out a soft sound. “satoru..” you gasp in a breathy voice.
“hmm? what is it, pretty girl?” he hums out in a sly tone. your hips buck up against his fingers. “i want to feel more..” you whine out, his hand pulling away from you. instead, tugging your panties off smoothly.
“yeah? then let me get you all nice and ready for me.” he grins, lowering his head between your parted thighs. a moan tears from your lips as his tongue drags through your puffy pussy lips. he chuckles against you.
his arm hooks one of your legs over his shoulder as his face nuzzles deeper into your slobbering cunt. his tongue flicks out and circles your clit. his eyes flutter as he tastes your sweet slick on his tongue. he doubles down, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth.
the action pulls a moan from your lips, your head falling back. his fingers nudge against your drooling entrance before sinking in deep and curling. your back arches slightly off the bed as you chant out his name. “fuck— satoru..”
the sound of his name rolling off your lips like that makes him moan into you, the sound vibrating through your body. his fingers pull out, then pump back into you deep in steady thrusts.
he hums in satisfaction while he fucks you with his mouth and tongue. his fingers scissor you open to stretch your tight walls to better accommodate what’s to come shortly. moans roll off your tongue, your fingers tugging at his hair.
heat pools in your gut, that familiar band coiling tight as you near your orgasm. “s-satoru…i’m gonna cum..” you breath out through moans. he hums against you, suddenly retracting his fingers and mouth from your aching pussy.
you whine at the loss of contact. satoru’s lips glisten with your slick. “toruuu, why’d you stop?” you drawl out in a whiney tone. your gummy walls now clenching around nothing. “ah ah ah. i want you to save it baby, that way you can cum all over my cock.” he hums.
“but—“ you protest, opening your mouth to complain. suddenly, something fills your mouth. it’s satoru’s fingers, the ones that had just been inside of you. “i don’t want any back talk baby. just take what i give you okay?” he retorts in a low voice.
you nod, his fingers coated in your slick press against your tongue. he flashes a smile. “gooood girl, now suck.” he drawls out. his fingers pump in and out of your mouth. you drag your tongue against his fingers and suck obediently. his smile grows wider.
“that’s it baby, you listen so well. now just for that, i’m gonna give you what you want.” he withdraws his fingers from your mouth. he bends down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.
he pulls back, finally tugging his boxers off. his cock springs free. hard, flushed, and leaking a tremendous amount of precum. he grips himself at the base, squeezing and giving himself a long, slow stroke. he grunts.
he drags his fat tip through your slick folds. you let out a shaky sigh. “you’re so wet pretty girl. i don’t know how i’m going to survive this.” he coos at you. your chest rises and falls. he guides your legs to lock around his hips. he nudges his tip against your needy hole.
your breath stutters. “i’m gonna take care of you baby. promise.” he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth before finally pressing in. he slips inside inch by agonizing inch. his head falls forward against your shoulder.
the stretch tears a moan from the both of you. it’s a delicious feeling. his hips stutter, he was originally trying to take his time but he just can’t hold back. hips hips press forward in a hard thrust, his cock bottoming out inside of you. he fills you completely, stretching you wide. you yelp.
“fuuuuck..” he whimpers out. “i can’t…can’t hold back, im so…sorry” he voices out raggedly through heavy breaths. you open your mouth to speak, but that’s shortly interrupted by satoru’s deep, hard thrusts.
he lets out a guttural moan as he pulls out almost fully, just to plunge in deep over and over. his thrusts harsh from the start, pulling broken moans from your lips. your eyes fall on his face.
his eyes are squeezed shut tight. his thrusts punishing. you watch through bleary eyes as a small red droplet rolls out his nose. “t-toru….your nose is bleeding..” you manage to choke out. his thrusts falter, halting. his eyes flutter open.
he wipes his nose with the back of his hand, seeing the definite blood there. he chuckles breathily. “y-you just feel so good…i can’t take it..” his hips grind deep into you. you shudder, a breathy sound leaving your lips.
he pulls out suddenly, only to flip you onto your stomach. he raises your hips up, ass on display to him. one hand runs down your spine to arch you just right for him. his other hand squeezes the fat of your hip.
he realigns and plunges in deep and fast. the quick motion dragging a moan from both of you. his thrusts start off just as punishing as before, but now at a deeper angle.
his tip kisses your cervix with each time he pushes his cock deep into your gummy walls. the feeling is enough to make your toes curl and your fingers fist into the sheets. you turn your head to the side to look back at him.
your eyes are heavy lidded and your lips are parted with moans rolling off your tongue. he pounds into you at an almost frantic pace. “toruuu..s’good!” you gasp into the pillows.
“yeah? you’re takin it so fuckin well baby.” he punctuates his words with a smack to your ass. the sting making you yelp. your pussy gushes around him at the contact. he groans in pleasure, his pace increasing.
your hips buck back against him, fucking yourself back onto his thick cock. a creamy ring of arousal forming at the base of his cock each time he plunges back in deep. “fuck, yes baby squeeze me juuust like that.” he lands another crack to your ass. you squeal, walls tightening around him.
you moan into the pillows, drool pooling out of your mouth and into the fabric. the room fills with the sticky “plap! plap! plap!” sounds of skin meeting. he leans over you to kiss your cheek, chest pressed to your back. “you getting close baby? i know, i can feel it…” he hums into your ear.
he pulls out, rolling you onto your back again. he lifts your legs over his shoulder and sinks back into your sloppy cunt. his pace frantic and desperate.
you let out a cry of pleasure. your head falls back into the pillows. his cock drags against your sweet spot with every thrust, making your brain turn into mush, leaving you babbling nonsense. “wanna see your face when i make you cum….” he grits out, hands holding your hips tight enough to bruise.
your walls clench around his throbbing cock each time he hits your sweet spot. you’re so close, so so close. your vision is starting to white out and your body is starting to tremble and that spring coils tighter in your gut.
his hand presses against the imprint of his cock in your stomach. “gonna cum…right here baby. gonna fill you up.” he whines out. your walls have his cock in a chokehold. “t-toru…m’cumming!” you moan out in a whiney tone.
“do it, cmon pretty girl, give it to me.” his fingers find your clit, rubbing fast circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. his cock splitting you open and hitting every sweet spot inside of you. your eyes roll into the back of your head as your orgasm takes over your whole body.
your body locks up and that spring snaps. your walls clamp around his cock, squeezing the life out of him. you let out a cry as your face twists in ecstasy. you cum all over his cock, coating him as your body shakes.
“fuuuck! m’cumming!” satoru whimpers. he thrusts once, twice, then burries his cock deep and spills into you. thick, creamy ropes of his cum fill you up to the brim. his body shudders through his orgasm.
satoru collapses over you. you both pant heavily as you come down from the intense highs, bodies covered in a thick sheen of sweat. he’s still stuffed inside of you, cock twitching as he empties everything inside of you.
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once the high fades, satoru lifts off of you. he gently pulls out, his cum leaking out of you. he takes a look at your fucked out face. he comes up, brushes your hair from your sweaty forehead. “are you okay, pretty girl?” he murmurs softly now as the heat passes. he nuzzles his nose against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.
you blink at him with a lazy smile. “m’okay..just sleepy..” you hum softly. he chuckles softly, his thumb brushes a drop a sweat from your eyebrow. “let me clean you up, then you can rest okay baby?” he coos softly. you give a lazy nod. he gets up and heads to the bathroom after pulling on his sweats from the floor.
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once he returns, he offers you a drink of water which you take. he gently cleans up the mess between your thighs. he makes sure to handle your body with care after what he just put it through. once he’s finished, he tosses the rag into the laundry bin.
he comes back over, he slides a fresh pair of his boxers up your legs, then one of his shirts over your head. his hand rubs softly over the slight bloat of your belly, admiring how much he had filled you.
he crawls up the bed, shifting under the covers beside you. he wraps an arm around your body, pulling you into his chest. you hum in content as he rubs your lower back.
“i’m so glad that you like me back.” he hums softly. you lift your head to look at him, you blink sleepily up at him and smile softly. “does this mean im your girlfriend now?” you mumble, too sleepy to speak anything above a whisper.
“is that something you want? i mean, i really hope you’d say yes.” he replies, brushing hair from your face. “of course i want that.” you chuckle softly with a smile.
“so, you’ll be my girlfriend?” he smiles, eyes flicking between yours. “of course, silly.” you hum, a sleepy smile on your face. his expression brightens. “score!” he mutters in a giddy tone.
you giggle softly. there’s the dorky satoru you’re used to. you lean up and press your lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss. he reciprocates it with a happy hum. his arms wrap tighter around you.
your legs tangle beneath the blankets. silence falls except for the hum of the a/c and soft breaths between you two. he presses a kiss to your hair as your head lays on his chest again.
sleep soon takes you both under, warm in each others embrace. happy, content, and so excited for what the future holds for you both.
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note: okayyy, round two. how was this oneee? i’m still not the greatest with smut, but i tried my best. i hope you enjoy! please leave suggestions on what i should do next, thank you:)!!
The sound of heavy footsteps echoing outside your bedroom door broke your attention away from your phone. You were sitting on your bed, and looked up to see the knob turn and the door open, the creak of the hinge signalling the arrival of your weary boyfriend.
Caleb’s eyes immediately found yours, heavy lids hinting at the exhaustion that accumulated throughout the day. His usually crisp uniform was now unbuttoned low and creased at the edges, letting his heaving chest peek through. His tie was pulled off completely and was now wrapped around his hand instead.
He looked completely unraveled.
Normally, this would concern you, as you would immediately invite him to slip into your embrace, asking him all about his day and the overwhelming responsibilities that probably consorted it. Indulging him in the comfort that only you would be able to provide, all without a second thought.
Not today though.
You were utterly upset by Caleb not giving you enough attention throughout the day, and being the bratty abomination Caleb practically created himself, you weren't planning on being nice.
You watched him toss his hat off somewhere on the floor carelessly and take a few steps towards you. “It's way past your bedtime, pips.” His voice was gruff, carrying a deeper edge and being breathier than usual, almost like even using it was costing him his composure.
You, meanwhile, ignored his presence and voice entirely, and turned your attention back onto the device in your hands. Even as you felt his looming presence hovering right above your figure, you simply acted indifferent.
You heard a low hum rumble from his chest before a hand snatched away your phone. Immediately, your gaze shot up to meet his face, seeing one of his eyebrows cocked up.
“Go to sleep.” The sentence carried an air of finality, but you were not going to relent.
“No.”
You saw his lips press together into a thin line, looking like he was conjuring all the patience in the world. And that's exactly what you’ve come to expect– Caleb resorting to his sweet indulgence, saying ‘please baby’ while peppering light kisses all over your face. His natural state of having bottomless lenience.
But what you didn't expect– was for him to reach out to the back of your neck, thread his fingers through your hair, and yank hard.
“C-caleb,” you whimpered out, already feeling tears prick the edge of your eyes and your underwear turning into wet mush.
Caleb leaned down to your level, head dipping into the crook of your neck as he angled you with his new leverage.
“You’re a pain in the fucking ass.”
He smushed his face against your skin, inhaling deeply, punctuating each movement with bites and sucks that felt anything but gentle. And by the time he retracted to meet your gaze once again, his eyes were fully blown out.
“Ive had a day too long, my work too hard, and way too many punchable faces,” Caleb spoke lowly as he raked his eyes through your entire frame, a tick in his jaw pulsing with each syllable.
“So what I need you to do, my sweet–” the nickname was dripping with condescension more than anything, and suddenly, he released his hold on you, standing up to his full height to tower over you once more, “--is to shut the fuck up and strip.”
You gulped aloud, throat bobbing as suddenly all defiance bubbled away with the weight of his gaze. And so you pulled off your t-shirt, exposing your soft mounds and already pebbled nipples. You watched Caleb's eyes immediately dart to the view, mouth ever so slightly parting. And to finish the job, you pulled off your shorts, now entirely bare and exposed to the volatile man in front of you.
You saw him mutter a faint ‘fuck’ under his breath before he swiftly unbuttoned his trousers, tugging them off along with his boxers as his eager dick took no time or convincing to immediately spring up, massive with veins running down its length, and a flushed tip that was already drooling.
His hand, still having the tie wrapped around it, went back to gripping your hair and tugging your face closer, as the other grabbed the base of his own dick and smacked it across your cheek. The contact made your pussy clench around nothing, and a soft whimper escaped your lips.
“Go on.”
A part of you wanted to prove yourself, that you were still capable of being his good girl. So you immediately went to work, wrapping your lips around his tip and slowly feeding his entire length into your mouth.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” you looked up at him through your lashes, already struggling to accommodate him. “In fact– I’ll help ya.” And he pushed your head down all the way, your nose now grazing his pelvis.
You gagged, hard. But his grip suggested you weren't gonna be let go of anytime soon, so you pushed through, flaring up your nostrils to breathe through your nose and relaxing your throat. Tears were now freely running down your cheeks.
Caleb let his face break just a little, with how you were looking up at him with wet cheeks and lashes, mouth stuffed full of him.
“My pretty little slut,” he gritted, letting out soft grunts as he shallowly thrusted into your mouth.
Soon enough, you regained some sanity as you got more used to his size, now more eager with the way you bobbed your head, pulling back entirely sometimes to swirl your tongue and kiss his pink tip.
But right before you were about to take him in entirely once more, you felt his grip tighten in your hair and hold your head back, making you whine at the restraint. “Ca–”
Before you could react, he posted one knee onto the mattress, pushing you to lay flat, and he held your waist and hauled you back across the bed. Immediately maneuvering you to have your face shoved into the pillows and ass held up high.
Feeling like your world was turned upside down, you took a moment to get back to your senses while you felt your wrists being tied up together. Shifting your head to get a clear view behind you, you saw the ends of his tie dangling down your hips.
SMACK
You felt a sharp stinging on your ass, immediately soothed by his warm hands caressing the skin. Yet the blooming pain only led to the dripping of your cunt getting worse, wet trails forming as slick ran down your thighs. This didn't go unnoticed by Caleb either, as his fingers traced the wetness back up to your fluttering folds, meeting no resistance as he shallowly thrusted two digits in.
“Goddammit, Pips,” Caleb sucked in a breath through his teeth, “you like being treated this way, don't you? Nasty girl.”
And with that he shoved his fingers in all the way, not giving you any time to adjust to his huge digits and immediately setting a rough pace.
“Caleb! T-too muc–”
“Don’t fucking care.”
He seemed to go even faster, pumping his fingers in and out with loud squelches. Your hips instinctively bucking into his thrusts betrayed you, but to save some semblance of dignity, you whined and squealed, still partially muffled by the pillows yet making it abundantly clear that you were, in fact, complaining about this.
Suddenly, you felt his hand pull away from you entirely, but immediately replaced by his dick spearing through you and bottoming out in one brutal thrust. This effectively silenced all your whining, letting all your grievances dissolve into breathy whimpers.
“Much better. Noisy bitch, aren't ya.” Caleb grunted, and you felt his heavy hand settle over the base of your head to push you even further into the pillows.
And after a moment of you just pulsing around his dick, pussy struggling to take all of him, he began rolling his hips against you– not pulling out yet, just tugging your hips impossibly flush against his own, almost like he wanted to nestle himself in your cervix.
“Mhmm,” Caleb moaned, leaning over to bite and suck on your shoulder, “'Missed this tight little pussy.”
“Thought about you all day, baby.” He pulled out all the way, tip almost slipping out– “Yet I come back home to you acting like a little shit.” –and he slammed back in.
That's all it took for you to come.
“But that's my own fault, isn’t it? I spoil you too much.” Caleb merely continued, like you weren't moaning and sobbing on his cock, pussy throbbing like it was trying to milk him.
“Didn't wanna sleep, did you?” He hummed contemplatively, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I guess I'll just have to fuck you till you pass out then.”
