Your soft boyfriend finally learned how to talk dirty. A little too well, actually.
⤷ Part I
cw: NSFW. dirty talk, degradation kink, light bondage, soft-dom nerdjo, rough sex, light choking, established relationship, fluff at the end.
cr: mauvay
Weeks had passed since that night in his dorm.
You’d kept fucking. Often. Really often. You were just that insatiable for each other. Sometimes it stayed soft and sweet, the way Satoru naturally defaulted to. Other times, you gently pushed him further.
He practiced, and he improved a lot. The grip in your hair had gotten firmer, the thrusts had gotten less careful. But he still called you “baby” more than anything else. He still avoided the filthiest words. “Slut” had barely made another appearance since that first night, and at this point you were almost certain he quietly hated it, and that it would never become part of his brand-new, still-awkward pack of dirty talk.
Still, whatever form it took, sex with Satoru was always too fucking good.
And that was exactly why, after celebrating the results of your biggest project of the semester with your best friends, you found yourself heading straight to his apartment, already looking forward to dinner, his arms around you, and eventually crawling into bed with him.
You were still buzzing from the drinks at the bar when you finally made it back to his place.
“Toru? I’m already here,” you said as you opened the door and stepped inside, glancing around for him as you dropped your bag by the door and kicked off your heels.
Suddenly, warm arms slid around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against a familiar chest. His mouth brushed the side of your neck once, then again, slower.
You turned in his arms, surprised.
He kissed you like he’d been thinking about it all evening. No hesitation, no greeting first. Just his mouth on yours, deep and hungry, one hand sliding up into your hair while the other stayed locked around your waist. You made a small sound of surprise against his lips before melting into it, kissing him back just as hard.
When he finally pulled back, his blue eyes were already half-lidded behind his glasses.
“Hi, baby,” he said softly. “Missed you.”
Before you could answer, he was kissing you again, walking you backward toward the bedroom without breaking contact. Your back hit the doorframe for a second, then the door itself, and suddenly you were inside his room, the door kicking shut behind you.
You barely had time to process how different this felt—how forward he was being—before his hands were already under your top, sliding it up and over your head. He tossed it somewhere behind him. Your bra followed a moment later. He kept going, his mouth trailing down your throat while his fingers worked the zipper of your skirt.
The fabric pooled at your feet. You stepped out of it, and all that was left were your panties.
Satoru guided you onto the bed, gently pushing you onto your back. You went willingly, still a little stunned by this sudden shift in him. He reached into the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a soft black ribbon. Then he took both your wrists, lifted them above your head, and tied them together with careful, practiced knots.
“Keep them there,” he said “Above your head. Don’t move them.”
You stared up at him and nodded, dazed.
What got into him?
He was still fully dressed — sweater, jeans, glasses perfectly in place — while you lay there in nothing but panties, wrists bound, chest rising and falling a little faster than normal. The contrast was so hot it made you squirm under his gaze.
Satoru exhaled slowly, almost like he was steadying himself. Then he reached up and carefully removed his glasses.
He held them by one arm for a second, turning them once in his fingers like he was deciding something. His blue eyes looked even brighter without the lenses, locked on you. There was still a faint flush high on his cheeks—the one that never quite disappeared when he got like this—but he didn’t stop. He leaned over you.
The cold metal of the glasses brushed your lower lip first. He dragged it across your mouth, then pressed a little firmer. You parted your lips in response, and he slid the arm of the glasses between them, just enough for you to feel the cool weight against your tongue. When he finally pulled them free, a thin string of spit connected the frame to your mouth for a second before it broke.
He didn’t wipe it off. Instead he dragged the wet frame down your chin, along the side of your throat, then across your collarbone. He moved lower, circling one breast, then the other, the thin arm gliding over soft skin until it found a nipple. He pressed there, rubbing the hard peak.
“Satoru—” you moaned, arching your back.
“Look at you,” he said, voice rough. “Already so fucking responsive. So easy for me. Smartest girl in your class, highest grade on the project… and here you are, tied up on my bed, getting wet because I’m using my glasses on you.”
He dragged them lower, over your ribs, across your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your panties. You were already breathing harder. Your thighs shifted restlessly against the sheets.
Satoru’s free hand settled on your hip. His thumb stroked once, almost absently, before he caught himself and tightened his grip.
“Stay still,” he ordered, though the command still carried that soft edge he could never fully erase.
You bit your lip and stayed still, thanking whatever had gotten into your boyfriend tonight.
He kept going lower until the frame pressed right over the front of your panties. He rubbed slowly up and down. The pressure was light at first, then firmer.
You fought to keep your hands still. Your hips twitched anyway.
“Greedy,” he said, testing the word. “Look at how you’re moving. Can’t even keep still when I’m barely touching you. Such a needy little slut.”
You whimpered. He actually called you a slut.
You didn’t even get time to process it before he shifted the glasses, angling them so one thin arm slid under the waistband of your panties. The cool metal slipped lower, right against your bare pussy, nestled between your folds. You gasped at the sudden contact.
Satoru pushed a little further, letting the arm rest against your clit, then slowly moved it back and forth. It slid easily with how wet you were.
“Fuck—look at that,” he murmured, watching the metal disappear under the fabric. “You’re getting them all wet and messy. You’re such a fucking whore.” He rubbed faster. “I could tell you to do anything right now and you’d do it without even questioning it.”
“Yes—fuck, I’d do anything—”
Your wrists strained against the ribbon. Soft, broken sounds kept leaving your throat. You were already so close it was almost embarrassing.
Satoru noticed. He pulled the glasses free and set them carefully on the nightstand, like they were something precious. Then he hooked his fingers into the side of your panties and dragged them down, exposing you completely.
For a moment he just stared.
You watched his throat work as he swallowed. His cock was visibly hard in his jeans, straining against the zipper.
“You’ve been walking around all night with your friends,” he said, voice low and rough, “celebrating, looking perfect… and the whole time this cunt was waiting for me, wasn’t it? Waiting to get used.”
He finally unzipped his jeans and pushed them down just enough. His cock sprang free, impossibly hard and flushed. He climbed back over you, one hand bracing beside your head, the other wrapping loosely around your throat.
Your eyes widened.
“You ready for me?” he asked, voice rough. The soft edge was still there, buried under the filth, but it was fighting hard.
You nodded, almost frantic.
“Please—”
Satoru lined himself up and pushed in with one long, slow thrust that stole the air from both of you.
He bottomed out and stayed there for a second, breathing hard. His hand tightened just slightly around your throat.
“Fuck… look at you,” he muttered. “Taking every inch like the needy cockslut you are. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You were dying to have my big cock in your greedy cunt.”
He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, harder this time. The wet sound of it filled the room.
“Such a fucking whore for it.”
His hips set a steady, deep rhythm, each thrust punching the air out of your lungs. The hand on your throat stayed firm but controlled—thumb stroking once almost tenderly before he remembered himself and pressed a little harder.
“God, you’re so wet. Dripping all over my cock like a cumdump. Is this what the popular girl does when no one’s looking? Spreads her legs for the physics nerd and begs to get degraded?”
He angled his hips, hitting that spot that made your vision blur. Your mouth fell open on a broken sound.
“That’s it. Make those pretty noises for me. Let everyone in the building know what a desperate little whore you are. Taking cock this deep and still looking like you want more. Fucking insatiable.”
Inside his head, the soft, hopelessly in-love part of him was screaming. He just wanted to untie your wrists and pull you into his arms. He wanted to call you baby and press kisses to your forehead and tell you how proud he was of your project while you rode him and used him however you wanted.
But he’d practiced. He’d rehearsed every filthy thing and was determined to get them all out.
So he kept going.
“Pretty sure you’d love to keep this cunt stuffed full of my cock for the rest of your life,” he said, thrusting harder. “You’d love to keep your legs open, waiting for me to use it whenever I want. My personal little toy... That’s all you’re good for right now, isn’t it?”
Tears were already starting to gather at the corners of your eyes from how overwhelmed you felt.
“What do you think your classmates would say if they saw you like this? They’d know you’re the chemistry department’s secret whore. They’d know you’re just as good at taking your boyfriend’s cock as you are in the lab.”
He shifted the angle again, driving into you with short, deep strokes that made the bed creak. The hand on your throat tightened just enough to make your head spin in the best way.
“You’re squeezing me so hard. Greedy little hole can’t get enough. Bet if I pulled out right now you’d beg me to put it back in. You’d say anything, wouldn’t you? Call yourself a slut, a cumdump. You’re just that cockhungry”
You were past coherent words. Soft, wrecked whimpers and broken moans were all you could manage. Your wrists pulled uselessly at the ribbon—you were dying to free yourself and grab his hair.
“Satoru— please—”
Satoru leaned down closer, mouth brushing your ear, voice dropping into something darker and more strained.
“I’m going to fill this slutty little cunt up. You’re going to take every drop like the good fucking slut you are. And tomorrow you’re going to walk around campus with my cum still inside you, acting like the perfect student while your pussy remembers exactly who owns it.”
The combination of the words, the pressure on your throat, and the way he kept hitting that perfect spot finally broke you.
“Oh my god—Satoru—Shit!”
You came hard, tears spilling over, a long broken sob tearing out of your throat as your body clenched around him. Satoru followed right after, burying himself as deep as he could and spilling inside you with a low, wrecked sound that was pure him underneath all the filth.
He stayed there for a few long seconds, breathing hard against your neck, hand still loosely around your throat. Then, carefully, he loosened his grip completely and reached up to untie your wrists. His fingers were trembling slightly.
Once your hands were free he brought them down gently, pressing soft kisses to the faint marks the ribbon had left, like he couldn’t help himself.
He stayed inside you a moment longer, forehead resting against yours, eyes soft and a little dazed. Those big blue puppy eyes were already back in all their glory. Then he finally spoke, voice quiet and warm, the filthy edge completely gone.
“Congratulations on your success, baby. I’m so proud of you” He kissed you gently. “I wanted to give you something special tonight. I hope I did better this time.”
You just stared at him for a second, still trying to catch your breath.
Better?
Your brain felt completely scrambled. You had never come that hard in your entire life. You weren’t even sure what the fuck had just happened.
“…Toru,” you finally managed, voice rough.
“Mhm?”
“Next time you’re going to smack my ass till I can’t think straight while you say all of that again.” You paused, then added, completely serious, “Fuck it. You should slap me too.”
Satoru’s eyes went wide. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. Then he let out a long, defeated sigh and rubbed his eyes with one hand.
“Baby... I’m starting to think you enjoy watching me malfunction.”
caleb’s favorite pastime activity is filling her up with cum and then spreading her open and thumbing at her puffy labia, making her push and watching his semen spill out all gooey and hot. he’ll swirl it around and enjoy the small puffs of air between globs of it oozing out, then he’ll scoop it all up with his tip and fuck it right back into her, only to flood her with more. rinse and repeat.
satoru realizes he actually likes your vanilla-flavored lip gloss after you decide to stop wearing it for his sake.
Satoru never understands why you apply your lip gloss too thickly. It's annoying, especially when you give him a peck on the lips or his cheek or have a full-blown make-out session with him.
Your lips leave a sticky residue, and although he wipes it off with the back of his hand, for some reason it feels much worse than anywhere else.
He isn't fond of it, and probably won't ever be, even if you insist it's vanilla-flavored.
The first time you notice he might not be keen on your new lip product is when he makes faces when you pull it out from your bag and apply it. You've known he isn't the type to hide his feelings, so you do your best to apply the product less often ever since that day.
The next few times you pull it out, his feelings about it become more apparent.
"Does lip gloss actually help?" He asks, disgruntled.
"I think so?" You smack your lips to apply the gloss evenly. "Do you not like it?"
"Nah," he pushes his sunglasses higher, "not really, babe."
"Ah, okay. Maybe we can stop by a store to get lip balms for me instead?"
When, at last, you listen to his complaints and constant grumbles, and finally toss that wretched thing away, Satoru is ecstatic. Finally, he won't have to feel that sticky sheen on his body anymore; no more wiping it off clean, too, since he honestly feels bad every time he does.
But after a while, Satoru discovers something he didn't think he'd ever feel: he actually misses that stupid thing on your lips.
Every time you lean in, he misses the shimmer that used to spread across your lips because now they look delicately naked. He misses the way you would've puckered before you gave in to his whims.
That little trait of yours he thought was a nuisance, but truly he's learned to love it anyway.
Satoru learns he misses being subtly marked by you, because even if he wipes it with his hand, there's still a faint trace of your love for him. There's still something he can carry, in a rather poetic way, whenever he goes out on missions all by himself.
It used to drive him mad, yet somehow, that feeling remains for a completely different reason.
He learns, selfishly, as he browses through every online store in the middle of the night, that he's looking specifically for that vanilla-flavored tube you have. None of the other flavors matter; they won't taste the same.
"It's gotta be that brand," he mumbles quietly, quickly looking over his shoulder when he feels you turn to the other side of the bed, afraid of being caught.
So imagine your surprise when, the next morning, he tells you to dress up and be ready in fifteen minutes because he can't take it anymore.
Whatever anymore means to your muddled brain.
And when you haven't moved yet, not understanding his sense of urgency, he tersely lifts your chin with two of his fingers, gives you a light kiss, and says, "I'm buying you a lifetime supply of that lip gloss. So get your cute butt out of bed and hurry up, baby. We're going shopping today."
*ੈ𑁍༘⋆両面宿儺 ┊͙ sucking off gamer boyfriend.ᐟ Yuji while he’s playing the game. 18+
The frantic clicking of Yuji's controller is a familiar, comforting sound. He’s deep into a co-op campaign with Megumi, their voices a low murmur through his headset. You, on the other hand, are deep into a campaign of your own, nestled between his spread thighs on the gaming room floor.
You start slow, just kitten licks to the head of his half-hard cock. He tenses immediately, his thighs clamping around your shoulders.
"Babe, no," he whispers, his voice a strained hiss. He glances down at you, his eyes wide with panic. "Megumi's right there. He can hear everything."
You just smirk, taking him fully into your mouth. He's hard in an instant, a low, choked sound escaping his lips. He quickly mutes his mic.
"Sorry, Gumi, uh… dog started barking," he lies, his voice shaky. He unmutes it. "Yeah, I'm good. Let's go."
You take that as a challenge. You start to move, your head bobbing in a slow, steady rhythm. You use your tongue, tracing the thick vein on the underside of his cock. His hips twitch, and you hear him take a sharp breath.
"Dude, you okay? You sound weird," Megumi's voice crackles through the headset.
"I'm fine!" Yuji says, a little too loudly. "Just… focused."
You hollow your cheeks and suck, hard. A high-pitched whimper tears from Yuji's throat before he can stop it. He slaps a hand over his own mouth, his face flushing a deep, mortified crimson.
"What was that?" Megumi asks, a note of suspicion in his tone.
"Nothing! I stubbed my toe!" Yuji squeaks, his voice muffled by his hand. He glares down at you, but there's no real anger in it, just desperation. "Please," he mouths silently, his eyes begging.
You ignore him. Instead, you take him deeper, relaxing your throat until your nose is buried in the coarse hair at his base. He lets out a muffled groan, his head falling back against the chair. His control is starting to crack. The hand that was holding his controller is now white-knuckled, gripping the armrest.
"Yuji, if you're gonna be weird, I'm just gonna log off," Megumi says, sounding annoyed.
"No, no, wait! I'm—" Yuji's sentence is cut off by another whimper as you start to hum, the vibrations traveling straight through his cock. He can't hold it in anymore. He unmutes his mic, either by accident or because he's too far gone to care.
"Oh god, please," he whimpers, his voice cracking. "Please don't stop…"
The line goes silent. For a moment, the only sound is the wet, slurping noises you're making and Yuji's ragged breathing. Then, Megumi's voice cuts through the silence, flat and deadpan.
"Dude, are you getting head right now?"
Yuji freezes, his entire body rigid with humiliation. But you don't stop. You double your efforts, your hand coming up to cup his balls, rolling them gently. The shame is clearly mixing with his arousal, pushing him closer to the edge.
"I—uh—gotta go," Yuji stammers, fumbling with his headset. He yanks it off and tosses it onto the desk without another word.
Now he can be as loud as he wants. And he is. The whimpers turn into full-blown moans, his hips bucking up erratically, fucking your mouth with reckless abandon.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants, his hands tangling in your hair, holding you in place. "I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come!"
With a final, broken cry, he shudders, his cock pulsing as he spills himself down your throat. You swallow it all, continuing to suck him gently until he's completely spent, a boneless, panting mess in the chair.
You slowly pull back, wiping your mouth. He's looking down at you, his face flushed, his eyes glassy. He looks completely wrecked.
"You're evil," he breathes, a weak, blissful smile spreading across his face.
You just grin, crawling into his lap and burying your face in his neck. "You love it."
He wraps his arms around you, holding you tight. "Yeah," he sighs. "I really do." His phone buzzes on the desk. He glances at it, then groans, burying his face in your hair. It's a text from Megumi.
content: a story in which suguru is sick and fucking tired of you and satoru pretending like you're not disgustingly in love with each other, and offers to help you make him jealous after a messy fight | wc: 8.1k
(post-grad au, fwb to lovers, mutual pinning, fluff, smut, light angst, the final boss of miscommunication tropes, both parties are lw toxic, jealous!gojo, messy!suguru)
notes: quick s/o to @ayeputita for commissioning this fun little story, thank you so much for your patience 🙂↕️❤️
now playing: mac miller - god is fair, sexy nasty
First it was finals, then graduation, and then navigating the beginning of your careers. It’s been over two years and multiple milestones, and you still have yet to officially put a label on your relationship with Satoru Gojo.
It was simple at first. Uncomplicated. You’d show up to his apartment, blow off some steam via getting your brains fucked out, and maybe stay a while afterwards for some takeout.
Now you have your own toothbrush in his bathroom and a small section in his closet dedicated to your clothes because you stay at his apartment multiple nights in a row. Just last week you had to explain to your coworker that he wasn’t your boyfriend. The week before that, you overheard him refer to you as his friend while on the phone with his father.
You’re not exactly complaining about it, you’re just as busy as he is. Though you can’t help but feel like the topic of commitment has only gotten more awkward whenever it threatens to slip its way into conversations. You both shut it down and move on to something else whenever it creeps up, but deep down you knew it was only a matter of time until it blew up in your face.
It started with random disagreements. Ones that you usually would've brushed off, but all of a sudden couldn’t. They were small, like what-show-should-we-watch-tonight small. They still ended with you going back home for the night. Each time, you brought back more of your belongings. Then it became a habit, and you started taking things home on normal days.
Satoru never saw you sneaking your things out, but he watched as that corner in his closet grew smaller and smaller, until it had more hangers than clothes to hold—becoming nothing but a reminder of all the space you once took up. And yet instead of asking why, he did what he always did and just lived with it.
Which didn’t work out very well for him. Later that week, Satoru decided to punch some guy in the face for getting too close to you at a party.
It wasn’t immediate, of course. He gave it an hour before he proceeded to antagonize the man until he had a better reason to punch him in the face, because being a jealous loser wasn’t one of them. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he was already in a mood, given how you turned down going to the event with him. It had already been days since you heard from him when he asked—of course you were going to say no.
Never in your life had you been that embarrassed to be associated with anyone. Embarrassed and disappointed—mostly with yourself. It left you with some hope during a time you questioned whether or not to cut ties with him. It was hard not to, you had hardly seen or spoken to him the weeks leading up to it. He had you convinced he didn’t see a future with you, let alone want one. As problematic as it may sound, his sudden burst of jealousy revived the love you’ve unfortunately grown to have for him. It was inevitable. Satoru has always had the ability to captivate just about anyone he spoke to. One could only imagine how easy it is to fall for someone like him. And for someone as stubborn as you, it was just about impossible not to once he started showing you the sides he usually kept hidden from the world.
So after a week of giving him the silent treatment, and receiving multiple flowers and an ‘accidental’ dick pic in return, you found yourself back in his arms, horny and slightly confused once again.
. . .
There were certain things Satoru won’t talk about with anyone, not even with his best friend.
One of those things was you.
It was rare whenever he did. Suguru had quickly learned not to circle back to it in the future because Satoru would either play dumb or genuinely not know what the hell he was talking about, because he was drunk when he called and rambled about you for an entire hour at the time.
Suguru can’t lie, though—he tries to pry as much information out of him as he can whenever he does get a drunken phone call. He’s nosey, okay? He’s come to accept that part of him a long time ago.
It’s not like he fishes for anything bad. It was always so he could get a better idea of Satoru’s headspace when it came to you.
At first he thought you were just a placeholder in his life until someone better came along. But then you all graduated, and Satoru continued to see you. Then he thought maybe he just felt like he didn’t have the time or energy to hold a serious relationship, and that you two clearly had some good bed chem going on—might as well keep it up.
Then it clicked a year later, when he randomly dropped by his apartment on a Sunday morning, and finally got to see what you two were like together, since Satoru never bothered to mix you in with his friend group, and neither did you with him.
Actually, no. He got to see what he was like with you. You barely spoke that morning, because you were violently hungover.
Satoru was in perfect shape compared to you, which made it clear he decided to play the role of a caring boyfriend and picked you up from wherever you were, then brought you back home. You were surprisingly clean that morning—Suguru wouldn’t have been surprised if his best friend bathed you before putting you in a pair of his pajamas.
Then he saw multiple soup containers on his counters, along with multiple kinds of over the counter medicine that mighthave helped you and an entire case of some fancy hydration solution that he most likely asked his parents to send him the night before, since they were rich and had access to everything.
And Satoru has always tried to hide how much he cared, always tried to hide how much he wanted to help you. But the moment he heard you running to the bathroom, he rushed over and held your hair back as you puked out whatever soup he bought you. Suguru even heard him apologizing for it and promising he’d never buy that shit again, as if it were the restaurant's fault you got sick, not because you overdid it the night before.
…You weren't a placeholder, and Satoru was fucking pathetic for not straight up declaring his feelings for you.
He still is!
It’s an entire year later and Suguru’s just as, if not more, confused. The last drunken rant he was forced to listen to was about how you were slowly packing up your things and planning on leaving him. You two weren’t even official, but now you’re leaving him? Not just breaking up with him, leaving him.
And why do you have an entire section full of clothes in his closet?
He’s always made an effort not to pry because he’ll eventually get it out of him, but the suspense was killing him this time around.
“Sooo…” He tried to act casual about it, but Satoru immediately looked at him with a smidge of suspicion. “How’s everything been?”
Satoru didn’t answer that question right away, as he struggled to hide how stupid he thought it was to ask, given how much they already talked. Suguru’s supposed to be the mysterious one here—it was fucking weird. “Good, I guess,” he shrugs.
“Nice, nice…” his lips thin to a smile. “You been talking to anyone new lately?”
Satoru huffs out a laugh. “Why would I do that?”
“Oh, so you’re still seeing—“
“Yeah.” He says it like it’s obvious, which naturally annoys his friend because it’s fucking not.
But Suguru continues to prod. “How’s she been?”
“Good…” he answers cautiously, before doing a complete 180. “You didn’t hear anything about her, did you?”
He sounded suspicious, maybe even a little worried. Suguru’s left to draw his own conclusions and is convinced that his friend still thinks you’re leaving him. “No,” he chirps out. “Just curious, that's all.”
“Yeah, she’s alright,” he says more confidently. “The usual, I guess.”
You act like you can’t change that, the thought stays in Suguru’s head. It’s not like you’re any better. He’s gotten to know you just enough in the last year to know you’re just as hopeless as he is. You’re just as willing of a participant in the friendzone you two have continued to stay stuck in.
“Well, if it works, it works.” Suguru gives a smile as he shrugs.
“Mhm.” Satoru smiles back, though his look’s a little more pained… and forced.
It works.
…Enough.
You shut down the last attempt he made to move forward with you, though—so it’s a little fucking hard to pretend like he’s happy with how “it’s” working. Probably harder than usual, since he ended up trying to fight some random guy at the party after being told you’d meet him there. It was small, probably didn’t mean that much either, but it was still something that would’ve kept him tethered to you since neither of you would’ve been able to leave without the other.
He considers himself lucky you even decided to come over again after that day. You were pissed enough to leave your read receipts on so he knew you were ignoring him.
It’s a surprise you came around as quickly as you did. Granted, there was some emotional disconnect in those last two months—one week of actual distance seemed to finally make your heart grow fonder.
He just didn’t think it’d grow that fond.
Fuck.
It’s like you’ve been trying to get him pregnant these last three weeks.
There’s begging. There’s talking someone through it. Then there’s whatever you started whispering in his ear the other day that made him cum so hard he started seeing colors that he never knew existed.
And he knows you two really should’ve had a more serious talk by now—probably multiple—but he figured this was a good enough excuse to put it off for a moment. It’s not even about the sex anymore—it’s about how close you’ve been. Half the time you’re pressed up against his chest, holding his jaw, making out with him, biting his lip, kissing his neck, whispering in his ear, asking questions like, did you miss being inside of me?
Yes.
Are you gonna cum again?
Fuck yes.
Then you kiss him again, as if it were a reward.
He had no idea how long it would last, and just decided to savor every last moment of it.
. . .
It’s been four days since you last saw Satoru, and he’s been pestering you to come over throughout the entirety of it.
You really haven’t had the time to do anything for yourself, let alone drive to the other side of the city to see him. The company you work for is in shambles right now thanks to multiple people quitting all at once, and you regret not joining them. You’re tired, overworked, and honestly considering paying someone to knock you out so you can finally get a good night's sleep.
Your phone rings as you step out of the elevator. Instead of fishing through your purse to answer it, you let out a small groan and keep walking.
Satoru can wait.
People usually look forward to arriving back home from work. That was not the case for you. It’s 8:13 PM, and the state of your apartment fills you with nothing but dread. It’s only been 4 days since you cleaned because you’ve barely even been here—it shouldn’t look this bad.
Your phone rings again, and you wish Satoru knew how shitty of a day you were having so he’d feel bad for calling. There’s an obvious struggle to find it as the shuffling in your bag continued, and just your luck, you missed another call.
You didn’t even want to call anyone back right now, but you really didn’t want to hear it ring one more time either. So you force yourself to return the call, all while hoping he wouldn’t keep you on the phone for too long.
“Hey.” He answers after one ring, and you’re already annoyed by the absence of stress in his tone.
“What?” you ask almost defeatedly.
There’s a pause before he reluctantly responds, “You busy tonight?”
You prepare to let out a sigh, but end up feeling bad for even considering it since he’s just trying to talk to you. Looking over your dirty kitchen while answering was not a good idea—your voice slightly cracks. “Nope.”
“You should come over then,” he's oblivious at first, taking a minute to realize how you responded. “I can order takeout and… are you alright?”
“…yeah,” you squeak out.
He pauses, then drops the friendly tone. “No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”
“I’m exhausted,” you sniffle, and then your voice begins to tremble. “I’ve been staying at work late because a bunch of people quit and my place is a fucking mess.” You snap a little at the end, staring at a giant pile of dishes. “Fuck! I forgot to go to the grocery store today, too.”
“Have you eaten?”
“No.”
You hear a soft groan as he gets up from wherever he’s sitting, along with the light jingle of his keys. “I’ll bring you something.”
“Really?” you ask, sounding so hopeful you could actually cry.
“Yes, really.” He suppresses a laugh. “Don’t start cleaning, either. Just go sit down or something.”
“Okay.” You weren’t gonna argue with that—you did not want to do those dishes. “Thank you.”
“Mhm. See you soon.”
Forty minutes later, you were in the middle of eating the dinner plate he picked up from a local Hawaiian place, drowning out the sound of dishes being washed while you watched the show you put on.
You’re usually a better host than this, but you let yourself be a little selfish this time and didn’t try to stop him from cleaning anything else. You didn’t even look at him, honestly. He’s a man—he’s fine. Though you were a little surprised seeing how fast he got everything cleaned and picked up.
There was a proud little look on his face once he plopped down on the couch beside you, and you tried not to laugh.
“Feelin’ any better?”
“Yeah,” you hum. “Thanks for dinner… and doing my chores.”
“You’re welcome,” he warmly says.
“Do you want the rest of my food?”
“No, it’s okay,” he murmurs, waving a hand. “I have some stuff I can eat at home.”
You give him a little glance. “You’re going home?”
“Yeah.” His lips twitch, fighting back a smile. “Just came to drop off food and clean.”
“How sweet.” You still don’t look like you believe him. “I have some of your clothes here if you want to spend the night.”
“I can. I kinda figured you’d want your rest, though.”
You shrug. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll be sleeping in either way.”
He leans in a little closer until he’s face to face with you. “You sure?”
You nod. “Mhm.”
“Alright.” He smiles, then closes the distance between you with a soft kiss, taking his time before pulling back to look over the space with a sly look on his face. He’s been here enough to be familiar enough with the place, but it’s usually you who comes to him.
“What?” you finally ask, though you already have an idea of what’s going through his head.
“You know,” he murmurs, eyes trailing back to you. “I don’t think we’ve ever used this couch before.”
“What are you talking about?” You fight back a smile. “We’re using it right now.”
“You know what I’m talking about,” he grins, settling a hand on your hips, squeezing it as he kisses you again, deeper this time. “Don’t get smart with me.”
“M’not,” you softly laugh. “I just don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”
Right,” he hums.
Riling him up isn’t usually this easy, but you figure your absence for the last four days had left him frustrated enough to strip you of all your clothes and have you on your back in what felt like less than a minute.
He didn’t even give you a moment to process it—just slotted himself in between your thighs and started dragging his tongue through your folds to shut you up. He had your knees pinned to your chest, squirming under his grip as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. And just as you thought you’d reach the moment of sweet release—
“Fuck—what are you—no, no, no wait keep going!”
Satoru pulls away, head still between your thighs as he gives you a puzzled look, blatantly ignoring the spot you needed him the most. “What are you talking about?”
“I was gonna—“
“Cum?” he says it for you like it was some random guess.
“Yes!” you whine out, frustration bubbling as the air begins to cool the mixture of spit and slick his tongue left behind.
He hums, taking a moment to think about it since the distraught look on your face wasn’t enough. “Yeah… no. I don’t think you know what you’re talking about, baby.”
“Are you serious right now?!”
He slaps your clit with one swift motion, earning himself a gasp that settles into a look of absolute disbelief on your face. “What?” he coos, circling his thumb over the spot he just struck, just barely giving you any relief. “Not so innocent now, huh?”
“I was messing with you!”
“And now I’m messing with you,” he muses, satisfied with himself. “Acting like you haven’t been waiting for dick this entire time.” You don’t respond to that. He grins. “Yeah,” he pulls away entirely, taking his shirt off and throwing it in with the pile of clothes he stripped off you earlier. He begins to unbuckle his belt, “probably what you were thinking about the whole time after putting me to work.”
The last to come off are his boxers, cock slapping hard against his torso before gesturing for you to get up with the curl of his finger. “C’mere, it’s my turn to put you to work now.”
You were more than eager to do so while he sat back, gripping your hips firmly as you bounced up and down every last inch of his cock. “Yeahh, that’s it baby—show me how much you missed my cock.”
It was clear how much you missed it with the way he didn’t even need to help you, practically treating him like some toy as you threw your hips back, all of his favorite sounds spilling from your lips each time he hit that sweet spot inside of you.
“Can’t believe you tried to leave earlier,” you say through a soft moan.
He huffs out a laugh, “I was tryna be nice, thought you were too tired.”
“God, no,” you hum in disagreement, and there’s nothing but amusement in his eyes as you complain. “I needed this so bad, work was so awful this week.”
“You poor thing.” He tries not to smile as he grinds you down against him, pulling another moan out of you. “Let me see it then.”
Even when he wasn’t the one taking charge, he was so fucking hot—marveling over your body and the thick creamy ring forming around his base through a pair of heavy lidded eyes, groans rumbling through his chest in between each praise.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ good at this—fuck, that’s it, keep going,” he rasps, fingers digging into your hips until he finally gives in to the urge to push you down, the sounds of skin on skin growing louder as he grew lost in it all.
There was no helping it, your skin was too soft and your pussy squeezed around him just right. Even as your legs began to tremble, you took every inch like you were fucking grateful for it, and once again, without fail, he thought of how he’d never get tired of you. He’d gladly spend the rest of his life listening to all the sweet sounds you make.
His hands snake up your back and pull you in, pressing you against his chest as he starts fucking you back. It’s nothing short of intoxicating once you start kissing him just how he likes. Slowly, yet desperately—starting at that sensitive spot just under his ear that practically brings him to his knees with how weak it makes him.
“Fuuuck,” he shudders, unable to stop the drawn out groan that sends your stomach fluttering.
You keep going, making him slowly lose his mind until he’s grabbing the back of your head and crashing his lips into yours, swallowing all the moans his heavy cock drags out of you.
“Harder,” you pant against him. “Make me cum.”
Without another word, he leans further back into the couch and plants his feet on the ground, then starts drilling into you. The rooms filled with the obscene sounds of him pounding into you before you’re even able to fully process it, and just barely steady yourself before your nails start digging into his chest from the way he works an orgasm out of you as if it were a debt that was owed to him.
You start babbling something about it being too much, only for Satoru to crack his palm over your ass because he disagreed. And there was no convincing him otherwise—the moment he opened his mouth was the moment you realized he was gone.
“So fuckin’ tight—fuuck,” he groans, pushing you down and making you meet every single one of his thrusts. “Just take it, baby. You’re almost there, just keep squeezing me like that. Yeahh, just like that.”
He doesn’t let up, driving himself right into that sweet little spot inside of you, making the pressure build up fast. “Oh my g-god,” you helplessly let out a sob. “I’m gonna—”
“Me too, baby,” he rasps, thrusts growing sloppier and sloppier. “Me fuckin’ too.”
Then after one particularly rough thrust, you're in full blown tears from the orgasm that completely rips through you, with no chance of catching your breath because Satoru started chasing after his own sweet release shortly after, driving you way past the point of overstimulation.
Your memory of the night grew hazy from that point, vision blurring as the week quickly caught up to you, holding on to nothing but the sound of his voice as he started pumping you full of his warm cum while chanting your name over and over again.
...and thankfully missing the pathetic “I love you” that slipped out of him right at the very end.
The morning started slow. Satoru woke up for a moment around 9:00 am, saw that you were facing away from him, flipped you over so you’d lay on his chest, and threw your leg over him. You were in the same spot the next time he woke up, just with your face tucked into the crook of his neck—short, soft breaths grazing over his skin. He knew you’d be waking up soon and waited until you finally stirred to greet you with his palm rubbing over your back.
There’s a small stretch of time between the few sighs you let out, just barely fighting to wake up. It wasn’t until you had your first sip of coffee with him in your kitchen that you finally did.
The air between you was casual at first as you talked about nothing in particular. He was just easy to talk to, so conversations always flowed. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed against the counter when the air suddenly grew stagnant, and you quickly guessed why when you saw who texted you—your coworker. Male coworker.
The text was friendly. All he did was wish you a good weekend after seeing how hard you worked that week—which you explained to Satoru, whose response was a thousand times worse than his initial reaction.
“You’re trying to explain yourself like we’re in a relationship or something,” he huffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m not your fuckin’ boyfriend. I don’t care.”
Your expression falls flat, because it’s either that or show how hurt you were because he had you convinced he actually did.
“What are you being so rude for?” you ask, genuinely.
He shrugs. “I’m not—it’s the truth.”
“I know that, but I never even said you were to begin with.”
“Don’t need to when you’re already acting like it,” he says, and you just continue to look at him with a blank expression.
If his goal was to make you feel fucking pathetic, he succeeded with how cold he said it, how dismissive he was being. There’s not one defensive bone in your body right now, and yet he’s treating you like there is.
He’s barely even acknowledging you right now, casually scrolling through his phone as if his personality didn’t just do a complete 180.
“I’m done.” It wasn’t what you wanted, but it had to be done—which was why you didn’t hesitate to say it. “Get out.”
It was so sudden and casual that it threw him off. Still, he laughed. “Seriously?”
You let out a sigh, along with a subtle smile that makes Satoru think you’re not actually kicking him out, but then you start walking up to the door.
And then you open it.
“I am.” You start gesturing toward the hallway, and it still didn’t click for him as he continued to stare at you. “You’re doing nothing but taking up space right now. Get up, grab your keys, and leave.”
“Whatever,” he scoffs, trying to hide his freshly bruised ego as he got up. Yet it showed with the lack of certainty in his usual stride—he was more than aware of his unwanted presence.
You put on a brave face, despite feeling your stomach slowly sink. But it was better to settle in with the reality you chose now, rather than being struck by it later on.
He lets out a deep sigh as he steps out into the hall, then stops to look at you. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna cut me off because I said something that we both knew?”
“Do you hear yourself right now?” You don’t know why you even asked—of course he does. He just never thinks he’s wrong. “This isn’t a relationship, remember? There is no commitment—I could cut you off for getting a bad haircut, and that’d be fine because I don’t owe you anything. You were being a fucking asshole. What did you think was gonna happen? That we talk it out and overcome it?”
At first his eyes grow distant. Then he barks out a laugh, impressed by how you managed to piss him the fuck off with that one. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t think you’d get triggered by something that dumb, either. But if you wanna be sensitive and cry every time you hear some shit that you don’t like, fine—have a nice fuckin’ life,” he starts walking away, knowing he’ll just say something rude if he stays any longer. “Good luck finding someone that’ll fuck you half as good as I do.”
Whoops.
“Thanks. I’ll send you a tape if I do.”
“Fucking try that and see what happens,” he suddenly snaps.
And just as he’s about to walk back up to you to keep going, your door slams shut.
. . .
Between your photo trail evidence of going out multiple times a week and Satoru training at the gym as if he were going up against god himself, it was safe for Suguru to assume that things ended between you two.
Horribly, might he add, since Satoru doesn’t even want to find a rebound. He literally just drowns himself in work and then tortures himself at the gym after. Suguru tried talking to him about it in between sets.
“Hey, has everything been alright?”
“Everything’s been fuckin’ great.”
Then he brought you up.
“Never heard that name in my life.”
Satoru proceeded to add extra weight plates to the barbell right after, and Suguru didn’t ask any further for his friend's own safety.
It’s been three weeks.
He’s not saying he needs to get over it. Satoru can take however long he needs. It’s just time to start being honest about it, instead of making him pretend like everything he’s been doing has been normal. Feels like he’s being gaslit at this point.
Lucky for him, the torture of not knowing what happened between you two didn’t last too long when he spotted you at the coffee shop just a few days later. Minding his own business was completely out of the question—he didn’t hesitate to approach you once he grabbed his order from the counter.
“Oh, hey! How’ve you been?”
It took you a second to process who had just approached you, but once you did, there was no missing the brief moment of disdain in your eyes from running into your ex-something’s best friend in public. Not that he gave a shit. Your problems were with Satoru, not him. Which was why he continued to give you that warm smile of his in your eyes
“Hey,” you force out a smile. “Good! Yeah, I’ve been… great,” you say, and it doesn't sound very convincing.
It sparks some amusement in Suguru. “Mind if I join you?”
“Yeah, sure,” you gesture at the seat across from you, and he can’t help but think you are so much nicer than your ex-fuck buddy right now.
He takes a seat, then rips the band-aid off like it was nothing. “How’ve you been holding up after everything?”
Your smile falters, the thoughts of what Satoru could’ve possibly said about you running through your mind. “I’ve been alright. It’s not like we were anything serious, anyway.”
“Right,” he pretends to agree, though his tone says otherwise, managing to crank your nerves up a notch.
“Did he—” You hesitate for a second. “Can I ask what he said to you?”
“Nothing,” he looks disappointed with the answer himself. “Granted, he never said much to begin with. But yeah, no, he hasn’t said anything.”
You nod, looking disappointed as well, just for different reasons. “Of course he hasn’t.”
He swishes his coffee inside the cup, trying to gauge what kind of mood you’re in. “Can I ask what happened?”
You were half-expecting the question—he’s always seemed like the gossipy type. The story itself isn’t that bad. You weren’t planning on talking shit about Satoru either, in the case that his friend does relay the message back to him, but it wasn’t considered talking shit if you were telling the truth.
So you tell him, starting with how normal of a morning it was.
You knew you weren’t wrong, but watching his reactions as the story progressed healed something in you. He was dumbfounded by the end of it.
“I can’t believe he said that to you.”
“Yep.”
“No, seriously. I don’t know why he’d say that to you.”
You scoff. “Because he's an ass?”
Shit. You weren’t supposed to say anything bad about him. With Suguru’s reaction, though, you doubt he’ll mention anything.
He shrugs. “I mean… yeah,” Satoru being a bit of an asshole was an obvious truth, but that was seemingly beside the point, “but he really cared about you.”
You stare at him blankly. “I thought he never said that much to begin with.”
“He’s weird with certain things.” He shrugs again, this time out of reluctance. He’d rather not share the drunk, pathetic rants for Satoru’s sake. “But if you think about it, he’s never complained about you or shared any of your business. Never got tired of you, either.”
“What a positive outlook,” you murmur, leaning your head against the palm of your hand, glancing over the busy street.
“Okay, fine—he may have shared how you were starting to bring your stuff back home, and he sounded pretty worried,” Suguru quickly admits, as if he weren’t dying to mention it.
You glance back at him. “He did?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “Now he spends his days exhausting himself. Trust me, he cares. A lot.”
You all but hum, then take a sip of your coffee.
“Do you care?” he asks.
“Yeah.” You wince a little, having to admit it. “But not enough to give him the opportunity to say all that stuff to me again.”
“I get it.” He respects it, too. He doesn’t think you’re completely in the right, though. You had the same amount of time that Satoru did to fess up. “Honestly, I just think he needs a little push.”
He has your full attention now.
“Like what?”
He smiles once more, and you quickly realize that he is not the wholesome man he pretends to be with the plan he proposed.
. . .
The music continues to pound against Satoru’s chest, as it has for the last thirty minutes. Not once in all the time he’s been in this club has he not regretted accepting Suguru’s invitation to a boys' night out. Usually he’d be drunk right now, having the time of his life with some girl hanging on him, dragging him to the dance floor.
That “some girl” being you.
Instead, he’s sitting at the bar, tipsy and bored. Some girl came up to him, asking if he wanted to dance. He pretended not to hear her, making her storm off after her third attempt at trying to get his attention. Sure, it was rude, but he can’t find it in himself to sympathize with her right now. Or anyone else for that matter.
Luckily, Mr. Designated Driver’s here, so he had someone to be boring with, and for once Kento doesn’t seem annoyed by his presence. Not that he’d care if he was. If he were in the mood to have fun at the moment, he would’ve rage-baited the blonde by now.
Kento even laughs for once, a rare sight.
Satoru’s lips twitch into a smile as he looks up from his drink. “What are you laughing about?”
“Take a look at who Suguru’s dancing with,” the man says, nodding towards the dance floor, feeling messier than usual despite sticking to a mocktail for the night.
Satoru turns, and the moment his eyes find Suguru, he deadpans. “What the fuck?”
It’s you.
Suguru’s dancing with you, and you look like you’re enjoying yourself with the way he’s holding your hips and whispering in your fucking ear.
The genuine shock in his tone and the way he grips his drink nearly makes Kento burst out into laughter. The only thing keeping him from doing so was the fact that Satoru actually looked like he was ready to blow a fucking gasket. Though his attempt to keep to himself doesn’t do much, because Gojo starts yelling at him like it’s his fault.
“Are they fucking talking?!”
Kento’s face suddenly scrunches up in annoyance. “How would I know?”
“Maybe ‘cause you’re smiling like you do!” He suddenly accuses him, making the blonde hold his hands out in defense. “Has he been fucking her behind my back?!”
“I don’t know?!” Kento yells back at him, “I didn’t even know you two broke up!”
“We didn’t—weren’t dating in the first place!”
“Then what’s the problem with them seeing each other?” the blonde counters.
“Because it’s fucked up,” Satoru immediately responds, and while Kento can agree with that, he can’t help but share the same sentiment as Suguru—he had two years to make things official with you. “You know what? Fuck you.”
“Me?” Kento points at himself with a scoff. “What the fuck did I do?!”
“What didn’t you fucking do?” Satoru mutters bitterly before downing the rest of his drink in one go. It was the only thing he could come up with, knowing deep down he really didn’t do anything wrong. He was just pissed off and taking it out on him.
Kento doesn’t even get the chance to respond to the comment—Satoru was already getting up from his seat the moment his glass hit the counter. His stomach slightly churns as the possibility of Satoru making a scene pops up in his head, but it eventually settles as he watches the man make his way to the bathroom instead.
It takes everything in Satoru not to push past all the sweaty people in his way, reminding himself to calm down the entire time. He finally gets to the bathroom, realizes there’s surprisingly no one else in there, and takes the chance to lock the door. Then he plants his hands down on the side of the worn down sink and takes a good look at himself.
He tells himself lots of things.
Relax.
It’s not that serious.
You were just someone he fucked, it only went on for as long as it did because it was convenient—because it was easy.
He tells himself it doesn’t matter if Suguru had you, because he had you first. They don’t call it sloppy seconds for no reason, and if Suguru wants to fucking settle for that, then he can be his guest.
The bathroom door begins to pound, there’s someone yelling on the other side, but Satoru ignores it.
God. Why the fuck are you dancing with Suguru? Have you been eyeing him the entire time you were together?
The door pounds again.
He continues to spiral as he goes through almost all the stages of grief. He doesn’t get to the acceptance part though, partially because of the banging on the door that ends up annoying him. After taking one last deep breath, he straightens back up at full height, walks over to the door, and is met with some greasy drunkard when he opens it.
“What the hell?! There are multiple stalls." The stranger immediately chastises him, and Satoru has absolutely no interest in defending himself at the moment.
“I’m deaf,” he says in all seriousness, and there’s instant regret on the man’s face as he begins to apologize, but Satoru just walks past him and makes his way down the hall, returning to the sea of sweaty people.
By the time the stranger realized he was lying, he was long gone—off to find you.
You thought it was a horrible idea at first, but Suguru was a persuasive man. You definitely needed a drink or two though to get comfy with him and the plan you two agreed on, which was to make Satoru jealous.
It was petty, but there also wasn’t much to lose at this point. If he reacts, great. If he doesn’t, it’s not like anything changed. Either way, you weren’t going to be the first to break the silence between you.
You were starting to think the plan was a complete failure, though. One moment you get a glimpse of Satoru sitting at the bar, then Suguru turns you around to fully face his direction, and he’s gone.
As time went on, you forced yourself to let it go, telling yourself that he had left and all there was left to do was enjoy yourself. You’d never date Suguru, nor are you likely to sleep with him, but he sure was fun to dance with and talk to. So you let him hold your hips as you swayed to the music and allowed yourself to laugh at his jokes. You’ve moped around enough for a man that didn’t care, and decided to let go and enjoy yourself under all the flashing neon lights.
The big hands at your hips begin to turn your around, there’s a smile on your face as you follow, only for it to be wiped away with complete and utter confusion when you realize the man you’d be dancing with was not Suguru, despite being the same exact height and wearing the same annoying man bun.
“Hey,” he smiles, and the tone of his voice carries the same smoothness as Suguru’s does. “Been wondering when you’d notice me—names Zuko, by the way.”
You wanted to scream. When did Suguru get switched out with him?! That fucking asshole. Why would he just leave you like this?
Then, as if it couldn’t get any worse, you see a familiar head of stark white hair from the corner of your eye, and he sounds so incredibly pathetic as he yells, “What the fuck is your problem?” but you also can’t help but find some comfort in it. At least he’s here to save you from this awkward moment, even if it was just to argue with you.
Zuko wasn’t such a bad guy, though. He tries to pull you aside once he notices an angry man headed straight towards you—not that it makes it any better that Suguru straight up abandoned you after coming up with the plan.
“Oh, fuck off,” Satoru swats the man’s hand away from you, and then he starts lying through his teeth. “We have a baby at home and she’s been gone for three fucking days.”
“Oh shit.” Zuko immediately backs off, but not without looking at you as if you were a deadbeat mother. “Sorry about that.”
And while he’s a stranger, it still hurts being misjudged like that.
“No, we don’t?!”
“Megumi’s gonna hear about this one day and fucking hate you for it,” Satoru yells loud enough for those around you to hear. “You’re not even done breastfeeding yet and you’re going out and grinding on random men?”
“Satoru!” you yelp out and attempt to cover his mouth because everyone around you seems to believe him, only for him to grab your wrist and begin to lead you out of the club, murmuring, “we’re leaving,” through a clenched jaw.
Despite the unserious nature of his tactics to get you out of there, he was still fuming by the time you two stepped outside and proceeded to absolutely lose it.
“I can’t fucking believe you. I–“ He had to physically stop himself from what he was originally going to say by groaning and biting his knuckles. “My best friend and his fucking look-alike. What the fuck? What are you trying to say?!”
You didn’t even think of that, but Satoru would find himself questioning if that was your type, and you almost laughed at the fact. “Nothing!”
“So that was just a coincidence?” He stops to look at you, but doesn’t get an immediate answer because it wasn’t a complete coincidence. “Jesus fucking Christ. You danced with my best friend right in front of me, then moved on to someone that looked just like him. Why would you do that?!”
“I didn’t know I was dancing with the second guy, it was dark!”
“That doesn’t make it any better!” If anything, it pissed him off more that you thought you were with Suguru the entire time. “You kicked me out of your place because you were done with me. I didn’t bother you after that, and now you’re trying to make me jealous? What the fuck is your problem?!”
“I kicked you out because you saw me texting a coworker and started being a dick and said all that shit about how you didn’t care. Do you even remember what you came over for that day?”
“I didn’t mean it like that—“
“And then reminded me we weren’t in a relationship—“
“Oh my god,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you listen to half the shit I say—I’ve been trying to be in one with you this entire fucking time!”
His pathetic excuse for a confession is met with a scoff, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bruise his ego a little bit—especially with how you continued to look at him like he was a lying piece of shit.
There’s a pause, and you eye him down as you cross your arms. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not—“
“You literally are,” you continue to argue with him, growing more defensive as the seconds pass. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“Fuck—I don’t know,” he says, throwing his arms out in defeat. “Life got busy. I didn’t want to fuck up whatever the hell we had.”
You suppress a laugh. “What a charming way to say fuck buddies.”
“We weren’t just fuck buddies though, and you know that,” he grumbles. If he weren’t so pissed off from having to watch you dance with not one, but two guys, he’d probably be blushing like some little school girl right now. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that, and I’ve felt like shit about it ever since.”
“You’re only saying that after seeing me with someone else,” you stubbornly respond.
He almost corrects you, because he saw you with two people, not one–not to mention they were the complete opposite of him–but he doesn’t mention that. Not because he didn’t want to add more to the argument, but because the thought made him sick. If there were power in thoughts, they’d both be bald right now. He was going to shave Suguru’s fucking head.
“How would you feel if you saw me grinding up against some girl after being told to fuck off?” he huffs out, running his fingers through his hair. “You told me you were done with me! So yeah, I’m saying that now after weeks of trying to move on—I’m sorry and I fucking love you. I never want to see you with another man again.”
Your cheeks suddenly warmed, stunned by how easy it was for him to admit that. Unfortunately, what could’ve simmered down to a sweet moment, where you told him you loved him back, gets paused because he’s still distraught and starts rambling again.
“Really? Suguru? I’m not fucking Rapunzel, I can’t grow my hair out like that!”
“Satoru–”
He cuts you off and continues to spiral. “You said you liked the undercut! Who lies about something like that?”
“I didn’t lie–”
He barks out a laugh, even though he looks like he’s about to cry. “I know I’m not perfect, but at least I don’t have a support group dedicated to me.”
That doesn’t surprise you one bit, but you quickly move on from that as you try to get a word in. “We did it to make you jealous!”
He stops mid-sentence and looks at you as if you had just shot him.
“I ran into him at the coffee shop and I was really sad because I thought you didn’t care about me and so he offered to help me out with that because he claimed that you did,” you quickly explained as he continued to just stare at you with a blank face. “And that he was probably my best bet since you were less likely to fight him.”
“I’m gonna fucking murder him,” he says a little too calmly.
“Please don’t,” you murmured, growing concerned that he actually might with the way his eyes dart back to the door.
“I care,” he says, though he doesn’t really need to convince you anymore. “I care, a lot.”
“I know,” you smile, but it slowly fades as you hear familiar laughter off in the near distance.
You both slowly turn your heads towards the direction it’s coming from, and Suguru turns the corner shortly after, with some girl in his arms. His shirt is slightly disheveled as if he were in a rush to button it up, hair messier than usual, and there's a big fat hickey on the side of his neck.
Did he seriously disappear to go fuck someone?
He stiffens the moment he sees you two.
“Having fun?” Satoru spitefully asks.
Suguru quickly looks back, then points at himself—acting completely clueless. The girl he’s with is still giggling. “Are those your friends?”
“I have no idea who those people are,” he chuckles like some old rich guy, the epitome of nonchalance.
Satoru looks back at the girl, who’s clearly already wrapped around Suguru’s finger. “If he brought up anything about astrology, just know he doesn’t actually give a shit about it.”
“Just ignore them, Tiffany,” he says as he opens the door, quickly glaring back at you two. “They’re just drunk and looking for a reaction.”
“baby,” yuta rasped, as long, shaky fingers squeezed on your bouncing hips. tethering his soul to the sinful way in which you came down on him. thighs smacking, hips grinding. you rode his lap like you were trying to squeeze out every semblance of his sanity.
“just like that— ah, so perfect,” pale lips pressed together. dark hair spread out on the wrinkled pillows as his head fell back. tossing with the bed that jumped with every clamour of your hips.
the epitome of beauty, an angel, a devil, both— when you squeezed around his cock and slicked his balls all messy. when your pretty nails dug on his shoulders and collarbones. when your gorgeous eyes dazed down at him through your fluttering lashes.
“mm, feels good yu? am I doing good for you?” you crooned, slowing your hips into a lazy, nasty drag that pulled a pitched moan out of him.
“so good— so, so good. hah. how'd I get so lucky?” he smiled up at you. through glossy eyes and trembling lips.
his head crooked so he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist. worshipping your veins, your blood, your pulse that allowed you to be here.
wrapped so perfect and velvet around his cock— squeezing every vein and kissing his tip with whatever darling spot you desired. working him to a high that had him clinging to you. gripping onto your very soul with his tightening fingers and every thrum of his dick.
cold hands smoothed over you. up your thighs, caressing your hips, worshipping your sides and cradling your breasts. he thumbed your nipples in tender swirls. in time with your hips that began to stutter.
“no, no. come on,” he ushered, bucking up once for encouragement. “you can do it, angel. don't stop now.”
his voice thinned. sucking in a breath as he watched your pace go sloppy. clumsy and overstimulated— but you were still smiling through your needy moans.
“yu babbyyyy,” you whined, playful. as you hunched over him, nails scratching on his chest and lips ghosting his. a promise. a tease.
“can't help it. feels so good. just gonna have to deal with it, hm?”
“you're a curse, you know that?” he returned your smile, despite the flicker in his dead eyes.
his hands slipped back to your ass. squeezing. a pout settled on his lips. “my poor pretty girl. so worked up. . ."
shlap!
pale skin smacked into yours. wet, rough, and strikingly abrupt— you squealed. slumping over your boyfriend who squished on the plush of your ass and rolled his hips up. deep and dirty. smooching his tip into a crook that curved your spine and shook your thighs.
“oh fuck— hngh.”
“don't worry, angel.”
yuta crooned to your ear as he pressed a deep kiss to it. arms hugging around your bouncing body tight. hips that once laid limp now pistoning in feral thrusts up into you. mean, merciless and nothing like the way he melted beneath you just a moment before. “I'll help. 'cause I love you so—”
his pelvis crammed! up into you. rutting rough and ragged on your cervix. slacking your jaw and blurring your vision.
“mngh— yuta!”
“— sooo much.” he didn't need to grin, not with the devil in that smile.
soft hands squeezed your thighs together. squished them tight to put pressure on his blur of thrusts. faster, harder, rougher than your sinful bounces. slapping his balls on your puffy pussy and milking your slick all over the sheets. splattering it over your thighs.
the lights flickered above. his cursed energy surged his pounds into a blinding prowess that sent your eyes rolling and tongue drooling. spluttering his name in a pitiful, ah ah ah!
“aww,” he cooed, pouting. he had the audacity to flash you those puppy eyes, like he wasn't pummeling your pussy into a creamy mess. “what was that, lovely girl? I can't hear you.”
“f-fuck— fuck you—!”
“now that's not very nice.”
he hummed, pale hand slipping up to pat on your ass that he chased ripples into with his merciless hips. “here I am making you cum so sooo good and you're being so mean.”
his cold touch slipped forward, thumb ghosting your swollen clit. drawing a whimper from your trembling lips as you flicked your head back.
“yuta. . . please, wait I can't—”
“sshh,” he hushed, swirling his thumb on the twitching nub with a feather touch, already sending your lashes fluttering while his batted up at you. innocent. infuriating.
“I can be mean, too.”
and then he flicked your clit.
pinched it hard between his fingers and rubbed it into a spasm that threw your spine into an arch and squeezed your pussy into a messy splutter.
all while he surged you higher into euphoria by plunging his cock up in a sharp stroke— humping on your cervix to spread your orgasm into a nervous wreck. trembling your body into a ruinous tremor.
“f-fuck— fuck fuck, ah.”
as you tumbled through your shattering climax, his hand snaked to yours. threading your fingers together. holding you tight. close. as he thumbed on your promise ring and rode out your high with tender praises.
“thereeee you go,” he blissfully sighed, his own eyes fluttering as he eyed the sticky mess between your thighs. “such a lovely girl with a lovely pussy.”
“baby,” yuta rasped, as long, shaky fingers squeezed on your bouncing hips. tethering his soul to the sinful way in which you came down on him. thighs smacking, hips grinding. you rode his lap like you were trying to squeeze out every semblance of his sanity.
“just like that— ah, so perfect,” pale lips pressed together. dark hair spread out on the wrinkled pillows as his head fell back. tossing with the bed that jumped with every clamour of your hips.
the epitome of beauty, an angel, a devil, both— when you squeezed around his cock and slicked his balls all messy. when your pretty nails dug on his shoulders and collarbones. when your gorgeous eyes dazed down at him through your fluttering lashes.
“mm, feels good yu? am I doing good for you?” you crooned, slowing your hips into a lazy, nasty drag that pulled a pitched moan out of him.
“so good— so, so good. hah. how'd I get so lucky?” he smiled up at you. through glossy eyes and trembling lips.
his head crooked so he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist. worshipping your veins, your blood, your pulse that allowed you to be here.
wrapped so perfect and velvet around his cock— squeezing every vein and kissing his tip with whatever darling spot you desired. working him to a high that had him clinging to you. gripping onto your very soul with his tightening fingers and every thrum of his dick.
cold hands smoothed over you. up your thighs, caressing your hips, worshipping your sides and cradling your breasts. he thumbed your nipples in tender swirls. in time with your hips that began to stutter.
“no, no. come on,” he ushered, bucking up once for encouragement. “you can do it, angel. don't stop now.”
his voice thinned. sucking in a breath as he watched your pace go sloppy. clumsy and overstimulated— but you were still smiling through your needy moans.
“yu babbyyyy,” you whined, playful. as you hunched over him, nails scratching on his chest and lips ghosting his. a promise. a tease.
“can't help it. feels so good. just gonna have to deal with it, hm?”
“you're a curse, you know that?” he returned your smile, despite the flicker in his dead eyes.
his hands slipped back to your ass. squeezing. a pout settled on his lips. “my poor pretty girl. so worked up. . ."
shlap!
pale skin smacked into yours. wet, rough, and strikingly abrupt— you squealed. slumping over your boyfriend who squished on the plush of your ass and rolled his hips up. deep and dirty. smooching his tip into a crook that curved your spine and shook your thighs.
“oh fuck— hngh.”
“don't worry, angel.”
yuta crooned to your ear as he pressed a deep kiss to it. arms hugging around your bouncing body tight. hips that once laid limp now pistoning in feral thrusts up into you. mean, merciless and nothing like the way he melted beneath you just a moment before. “I'll help. 'cause I love you so—”
his pelvis crammed! up into you. rutting rough and ragged on your cervix. slacking your jaw and blurring your vision.
“mngh— yuta!”
“— sooo much.” he didn't need to grin, not with the devil in that smile.
soft hands squeezed your thighs together. squished them tight to put pressure on his blur of thrusts. faster, harder, rougher than your sinful bounces. slapping his balls on your puffy pussy and milking your slick all over the sheets. splattering it over your thighs.
the lights flickered above. his cursed energy surged his pounds into a blinding prowess that sent your eyes rolling and tongue drooling. spluttering his name in a pitiful, ah ah ah!
“aww,” he cooed, pouting. he had the audacity to flash you those puppy eyes, like he wasn't pummeling your pussy into a creamy mess. “what was that, lovely girl? I can't hear you.”
“f-fuck— fuck you—!”
“now that's not very nice.”
he hummed, pale hand slipping up to pat on your ass that he chased ripples into with his merciless hips. “here I am making you cum so sooo good and you're being so mean.”
his cold touch slipped forward, thumb ghosting your swollen clit. drawing a whimper from your trembling lips as you flicked your head back.
“yuta. . . please, wait I can't—”
“sshh,” he hushed, swirling his thumb on the twitching nub with a feather touch, already sending your lashes fluttering while his batted up at you. innocent. infuriating.
“I can be mean, too.”
and then he flicked your clit.
pinched it hard between his fingers and rubbed it into a spasm that threw your spine into an arch and squeezed your pussy into a messy splutter.
all while he surged you higher into euphoria by plunging his cock up in a sharp stroke— humping on your cervix to spread your orgasm into a nervous wreck. trembling your body into a ruinous tremor.
“f-fuck— fuck fuck, ah.”
as you tumbled through your shattering climax, his hand snaked to yours. threading your fingers together. holding you tight. close. as he thumbed on your promise ring and rode out your high with tender praises.
“thereeee you go,” he blissfully sighed, his own eyes fluttering as he eyed the sticky mess between your thighs. “such a lovely girl with a lovely pussy.”
⤷ ゛ 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
