what's mine is yours (and what's yours is mine)
being in love with your best friend's girlfriend is hard. being in love with your best friend's girlfriend and being stuck in his body is harder.
pairing: bodyswapped bf!Suguru x f!reader x bsf!Satoru
content: MDNI, established relationships, au where Geto never defected, reader-insert, no use of yn, very mild use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), multiple povs (and positions), gojo is down so BAD (absolute loser loverboy if I'm being honest), gojo and geto get bodyswapped, oral (m! and f! receiving), handjob, mirror sex, unprotected sex, inappropriate use of jujutsu, threesome
wc: 10.3k (pinky promise it's worth it)
a/n: it should hopefully be clear who is who, but if you are ever in doubt, I mostly used Satoru/Suguru to indicate who it really is and Gojo/Geto in reference to their bodies <33 enjoy!! hehe also this was inspired by @quinnyundertow so we can all thank her for this fr
“I dunno,” Shoko sighed, shrugging for the twentieth time since her two least favorite idiots stumbled through her door.
“What's that s’pposed to mean?” Gojo groaned, clearing his throat like that'd make it any more comfortable to hear the wrong voice coming out of it or get rid of the shitty taste lingering on his tongue. The other Gojo passed him a soda, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers and squinting at Shoko while she fiddled with the cigarette dangling between her lips.
“If I had to guess,” She tutted, tilting her head like she didn't get paid nearly enough for this. “The effects will wear off in a day or two.”
“And if they don't?” He heard himself ask, watching the words leave his mouth, trace the sharp line of his own jaw from the soft yellow glow of Shoko's lamp when his head cocked to the side.
“I'll figure something out,” She apathetically shrugged.
“So what? We’re just stuck like this?” Gojo whined, gesturing down at the body he somehow found himself in after finishing off a particularly nasty curse with Geto. Not that he was complaining that much though. If he had to swap bodies with anyone, it would probably be him.
Sure, Suguru was almost as strong as him. But there were other, ahem, benefits.
Namely, you.
“For now,” She yawned, digging through her drawers for a lighter.
“Fuck,” Geto mumbled, rubbing his eyes like they hurt. Gojo knew from experience they probably did - that his friend wasn't equipped to handle the strain from the six eyes, even with the thick pair of shades he borrowed or the dim lighting in Shoko’s office.
“Aw, cheer up,” Gojo teased, about to slap a hand on his own back just to meet nothing. It was bizarre to be on the receiving end of his technique, something invisible tension flickering in the air before it dissolved, a calloused palm meeting the soft fabric in his uniform. “Who wouldn't wanna be me?”
Geto glared at him, snow-white brows knitted together in a deep scowl.
“Who would?”
“You guys wanna take this outside?” Shoko interrupted with an exaggerated eye-roll, jutting her thumb towards the door.
“Well, if there's nothing you can do,” Gojo sighed, feigning disappointment as he felt around Geto's pockets for his keys and phone, already planning ten steps ahead for the harebrained scheme that had been forming in the back of his brain from the moment he blinked and saw himself standing across from him.
The first item on his agenda?
Slip away from Suguru to find the nearest bathroom and figure out what exactly he was working with.
“Satoru,” Suguru started, the warning a lot less effective coming from his own voice.
“What's the passcode on your phone?” Gojo ignored him with a yawn.
“You think I'm giving you that?” Suguru huffed. He couldn't tell through the glasses, but Gojo was fairly certain his friend was glaring again.
“Ijichi has my house keys,” Gojo shrugged, slinging his hands in his pockets and starting for the exit without looking back. “Unless you want a bounty on your head, you should probably stay in for the night.”
It went without saying that if word got out that the holder of the six eyes wasn't in possession of his own body, wasn't a weapon they could currently use, they might as well be painting a bloody target on his forehead.
“What are you going to do?” His best friend scoffed, peeking down his shades to cut him another sharp look as he followed him out into the hall.
“I'm gonna fuck your girlfriend.”
Suguru chuckled, dark and low, raking long fingers through his hair, hand stopping to hover in the air like he wasn't used to having it cut so short.
“Oh yeah?”
Suguru probably should've known better than to issue a challenge like that to him.
“What? Don't think I can?” Gojo pouted, popping open the tab on soda, the sharp edge of the metal slicing a thin cut along his thumb, pinpricks of blood dotting the broken skin.
It actually stung.
He hadn't actually been hurt since when? They were teenagers? It was kind of exhilarating. The sensitive new sensations, the lack of control welcome for once.
“She'll know it's not me,” Suguru simply said.
“Wanna bet?”
Your boyfriend was late.
Like, by a lot.
So much so, you were debating on calling Gojo to find out where he was, considering you couldn't get so much as a text back.
Hovering over his name in your contacts before hitting the call button with a sigh, flipping the burner off and resting your hip against the kitchen counter. But even when he answered, there was just static-y silence on the other end.
“Hello? Gojo?” You were pouting already, annoyed that you had to resort to hearing news about your boyfriend secondhand from quite possibly the least responsible person you knew.
“Uh, yeah?”
His voice sounded different. You couldn't put your finger on what it was until you realized he almost sounded serious. Not greeting you with a cheesy nickname or some obnoxious over-the-top pick-up line that he still insisted on using despite the fact you'd been dating his best friend for nearly two years now.
“Is Suguru with you?” You huffed, the sharp edge of the counter starting to dig through your thin dress. Although, it was probably closer to lingerie than an actual sundress.
“He’s not home yet?”
You were expecting some annoying arrogant reply - that Suguru was strong enough to take care of himself blah blah blah or how cute it was that you were worrying about them yada yada. Not an actual response that came close to concern.
“Is everything okay?” You bluntly asked, frowning while you tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder, reaching up to pull down a couple plates from the cabinet.
“Why wouldn't it be?” Gojo awkwardly coughed, the usual cockiness that marked every word absent.
“Something you wanna tell me?” You impatiently huffed, foot tapping against the tile. After the shitty day you had at your own job, the last thing you needed was whatever idiotic thing they'd gotten themselves in now. You'd been hoping for a quiet evening in with Suguru, had cooked him a nice dinner, lit a few candles, put on some soft music along with the tiniest thong you owned.
“No?”
Yeah, right.
In the years you'd known Satoru, he'd never answered a question with just a single word.
The plate pinched between your fingers slipped, hitting the marble with a crash! when it broke into big shards on impact. You winced at the sound, carefully picking it up piece-by-piece and tossing them into the open trash can by the counter.
“Did something happen? Are you okay?” Gojo's panicked voice called out to you from your phone's precariously cradled position. You couldn't stifle your giggle.
“Oh? Is the great Satoru Gojo worried about me?” You teased. Seriously, what was his deal today?
His laugh was dangerous, an octave lower than usual when it reverberated through you. It almost sounded like he was there, purring it directly in your ear.
“You should be more careful,” He warned. Maybe Suguru had finally started wearing off on him.
“I should, hm?”
“It almost sounds like you're flirting with me,” He chided with a click of his tongue.
“You wish,” You laughed.
A thud by the entryway distracted you, keys jingling as the lock started to turn. Gojo started to say your name, all soft and low, and something pricked at the back of your brain, like an itch you couldn't scratch.
“Whatever, weirdo,” You sighed. “Just forget about it. Suguru’s here.”
You hung up before he could keep you on the line and longer, sitting your phone on the counter and finding another tiny shattered piece of ceramic to toss out, heavy footsteps echoing on the floor behind you.
“Sugu-”
Your greeting was cut off by massive hands on your waist, fingers wrinkling the soft fabric of your dress as his thumbs traced little crescent moons along your back, a head nuzzling against the crook of your collarbone.
“Did someone miss me?” You teased, trying to crane your neck back to take a peek only for him to squeeze you tighter. His lips grazing against the column of your throat, his breath cool on your skin.
“Maybe,” He murmured, teeth nipping at your ear while you squealed and twisted away from him.
A pretty bouquet of white roses was tossed on the counter next to the sink, a few of the petals starting to get crushed from where it was laying.
“Those for me?” You suppressed your smile, ignoring the way one of his hands was currently sliding underneath the hem of your dress while you picked up the flowers, careful not to get picked by the thorns poking out underneath the thin ribbon they were tied together with.
“Mhm,” His honeyed hum was soothing, music to your ears while he started to pepper your neck with gentle kisses, brushing the thin strap of your dress off your shoulder.
“What's the occasion?” You giggled, taking a tiny whiff of them.
“Can't I just get my pretty girl some flowers?” He practically whined behind you, his firm chest pressed against your back. You were used to him being glued to you after he got home, but usually it was just a hand on your back, a hip brushing against yours, just small expressions of his casual affection. The weight of his presence threatened to swallow you already, his mouth tracing your collarbone like he really might consume you before the night had even started.
“As long as they're not apology flowers for something stupid you and Gojo did,” You hummed, relaxing back into him.
He didn't say anything to that.
“Sugu,” You started disapprovingly, about to scold him before he turned you around, quick to cop a feel while he did, grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing hard when he picked you up and sat you down on the counter so you could properly face him.
“I didn't do anything,” He asserted, dark eyes settling on you and trailing south, savoring each second like he was drinking the image of you in. A sharp canine biting down on his lower lip when his gaze settled on the cleavage spilling out.
Maybe it was silly.
But it felt like the first time he'd seen them all over again. How lovestruck he looked the longer his stare lingered, the sharp little exhales he barely seemed to manage, something hanging thick in the narrow space between you.
“If you say so,” You yielded, delicately pinching a white petal between your fingers appreciatively, admiring his selection. His eyes crinkled when he smiled, faint lines etched into the skin when he pressed another featherlight kiss on your forehead. “Grab the vase for these?”
The curve of his mouth turned down, faltering for a second when he looked down at you.
“Could you, um, remind me where it is?” He apologetically requested, going to scratch the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his dark hair.
You squinted at him.
Was he being serious?
“Under the sink?” Unless you were somehow misremembering, he was the one who stuck it there last.
“Oh, yeah,” He sighed. Reluctantly pulling away to bend down and open the cabinet, moving sponges and the dishwasher detergent over until he found the vase tucked in the back corner.
You watched him fill it up, his fingers clumsily clasped around the bottled neck of it, shutting off the water and taking the flowers from your hand to plop them inside.
“You okay?” The hard edge of the counter bit into your palm as you scooted closer to the edge, eyes narrowed as they focused on him. He was quick to return to you, sturdy thighs nudging your own further apart, the tent in his pants only obvious when it suddenly pressed against you.
“Long day,” Your boyfriend mumbled, looking at your lips like they were the only thing he'd been thinking about.
“I'm sorry,” You murmured back, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth.
His hand caught your chin though, pulling you in closer, your cheeks almost squished under his firm hold. His thumb digging in on one side while his index finger pressed into the hard line of your jaw, his mouth colliding against yours. Your lips parted automatically for him, his tongue immediately slipping between them, fervently exploring your mouth like you were tonight's meal, brushing against the ridges of your teeth and sliding over your own. It was sloppy, hungry, his lower lip soft and swollen while you sucked on it. Running your fingers through his silky hair, pulling the hair tie out of the messy half-bun he'd thrown it into earlier, brushing back the bangs that framed the sharp planes of his face.
He didn't pull away until you were almost out of air, tilting your chin up while you both sucked in ragged breaths.
“Baby,” You softly said, stroking his hair like all the muscles in your thighs weren't pulled tight, like there wasn't a growing damp spot soaking through the lace separating you from him. His eyes were closed, melting into your touch, his head relaxing into the palm of your hand. “Dinner's getting cold.”
“I want something else to eat,” His voice was raspy, a low hum that came from the back of his throat. Going back to kissing you the second the last word left his mouth, his mouth marking what felt like every inch of your neck, the ghost of his lips going from butterfly kisses to hot and heavy sucks that would surely leave bruises by tomorrow, lewd pops! joining the sound of your broken breathing.
The friction of his erection rubbing slowly against your clit through the barely-there fabric of your thong was tantalizing. One hand hiking higher and higher up your thigh until one sturdy finger slipped under the band of your underwear, toying with it while you tugged on his hair. You could barely think straight, brain addled between his hands and his mouth and even just his cologne, warm and woody and as intoxicating as the rest of him.
“Oh?” You could hardly choke the syllable out, shakily exhaling when his teeth scraped against the fragile skin of your throat. Instinctively chasing the more, more, more your brain was screaming for, you rolled your hips up trying to soothe the already aching bundle of nerves starving for attention, a desperate moan escaping his throat at how snugly your body was pressed against his.
“Angel, please.”
You paused, but he was too lost in the moment to notice. Nudging the straps of your dress down further until he freed both your breasts, assuming your flinch was just from the cold air on your nipples, bending down so he could pop one in his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around it, teeth graze against the sensitive nub.
It wasn't Suguru.
Only one person you knew would call you something like that. Or beg before you'd even so much as touched his dick.
Those stupid fucking assholes.
Suguru - or Satoru, you technically supposed - bit down again, sucking a harsh spot on your tit, about to pull your panties down with his other hand just to accidentally tug too hard, the dainty fabric tearing with a loud rip!
“Oops,” He paused to grin up at you, his smile too wide, eyes too big when they landed on yours. Only further convincing you of the growing suspicion that this was not in fact your boyfriend.
Weird curse stuff just sorta came with the territory - you knew that when you started dating him. Especially considering some of the, uh, bizarre aftereffects that sometimes came with his technique. You experienced that firsthand when he came home one night a few months ago after swallowing some filthy fucking lust curse.
But this?
“Oops?” You echoed, chewing on your bottom lip while he licked a clean stripe back up your neck, kissing your jaw again while he removed the now-useless scrap of fabric between your thighs, not-so-discreetly pocketing it.
“M’ sorry,” He murmured, hands drifting back down to your ass when he picked you up, not pausing his onslaught of kisses carrying you through the kitchen into the hall until he reached the bedroom, kicking the door open a little too hard, the knob hitting the wall behind it with a loud thud.
You barely processed your back hitting the mattress, the hem of your dress bunching up past your hips as the familiar weight of his frame climbed on top of you. His mouth made its way south, eager to claim every inch for himself, spreading your thighs with those huge palms and practically panting at how exposed you were.
If you were right, and this was Satoru, you guessed that meant you must've been talking to your real boyfriend on the phone earlier. You fucking knew something was off. And he didn't say a word.
You were going to kill both of them.
They shared almost everything. Were you really that surprised you hadn't turned out to be the exception?
“God, you're so gorgeous,” He wasn't really even talking to you, muttering to himself while he admired you splayed out in his best friend's bed, on his best friend's sheets.
You'd never taken any of his teasing seriously. It was just in his nature. A player, a flirt. Sure, you’d never actually seen him with any girls. But you just always assumed they existed.
Maybe it was just because he was in Suguru's body, but he seemed so sincere, your name falling in a dreamy little sigh from his lips.
Suguru had to know what Satoru would do once he came home. So why let him? Unless you were the pawn or prize in whatever game they were playing.
If that was the case, you weren't going to settle for anything less than being the winner.
You reached down, running your fingers through his hair again, playing with the ends between your fingers and humming quietly.
“Suguru,” You purred, reminding your friend exactly who he was supposed to be imitating as he hesitated between your thighs.
“Hm?” He didn't, or couldn't, tear his gaze away, his rough thumb absentmindedly tracing figure-eights along your hip, probably not even aware of how much he was fidgeting.
“I thought you were hungry?” You innocently pouted, batting your lashes at him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Whatever faint restraint he'd been exercising snapped.
The sharp point of his nose bumping into your clit as he pressed his tongue hard and flat across your entrance, dark glossy eyes fluttering shut while he pushed down your thighs, pressing them into the plush mattress.
Even if he looked like Suguru, it didn't feel like Suguru.
He was messy, overeager, his tongue lapping up every ounce, every drop you offered, devoted swirls exploring you. Open-mouthed kisses where his taste buds scraping against the inside of your walls, groaning with every squirm and gasp he elicited. It didn't take him long to figure out where your weak spots were, working them over and over again, ignoring how tightly your thighs were clenched around his head, your fingers pulling at his hair.
“S-shit,” You whined, clawing at the sheets when his tongue slipped out, feeling yourself throb at the absence until his mouth wrapped around your clit. It almost felt like he tore the next moan out of you, the neglected bud sore, blind need pooling in your gut while his tongue roughly circled it.
His touch wasn't as practiced, wasn't as steady, but what he lacked in rhythm, he sure as fuck made up for in earnestness.
Suguru Satoru was clawing at your hips, pulling you into the warmth of his mouth while your back arched off the bed, needy whimpers rolling off your tongue while he dove back in to taste you again. It could've been intentional, how he was constantly readjusting like he was still getting used to Suguru's body, but his nose kept ghosting against your clit, the knot in your stomach getting tighter every time he did, desperation clawing its way to the surface as the heat rose to your face when you remembered who was eating you out like he was fucking starving.
“S-” You stopped yourself, not entirely convinced whose name was about to leave your mouth.
“Mm?”
You covered your mouth with your hand, muffling your moan when his nose edged against you again, all the nerves in your body begging for him to keep going.
But he caught a glimpse of you, his thin brows scrunching together while he narrowed his eyes at you. Pushing off your thighs until he was hovering back over you, pulling your hand away from your lips.
“Wanna hear you, pretty girl,” He complained, digging his knee up until it was snugly shoved against your entrance, leaving a damp spot on the baggy fabric of his pants, gradually applying more pressure as if the friction alone wasn't enough to drive you insane.
“Sugu,” You mewled, pushing your bottom lip out just for him to snag it between his canines, capturing your mouth with another searing kiss. You wondered if Satoru's pride could handle hearing his best friend's name from your lips when he was the one on top of you.
“Yeah?” He mumbled into your mouth, groaning when you bucked your hips up to meet the slow grind of your boyfriend's cock against your clit. You let your head rest against the soft pillow underneath you, a quiet whimper falling out when he smothered your face with more kisses.
“Remember what we were talking about a few nights ago?” You asked, knowing he'd be forced to lie either way considering the conversation in question never happened, just something you made up.
“What about it?” He tested the waters, doing a poor job at mimicking the sultry silk of your boyfriend's typically reserved voice. He pulled away until his nose was brushing against yours, your fingers grazing over his smooth cheek, his marble complexion.
“I’ve just been thinking,” You drawled, running your thumb over his defined cheekbone, a nervous glint in his eyes he couldn't hide at how you trailed off.
“And?” He pressed, something damp leaking through his pants onto your thigh.
“Mm, maybe we should invite Gojo over,” You suggested, leaving the implication hanging in the air, feel the energy shift when it finally struck him.
“Oh.”
His cock twitched against you, begging to be set free while his mouth hung open.
“You change your mind?” You teased, craning your neck up to plant butterfly kisses along his throat, tracing the tendons there the same way you'd done hundreds of times before.
“N-no,” He stammered, a throaty grunt falling out when your hand trailed down his chest, running two fingers along the band of his pants before slipping them underneath his boxers, collecting the pre-cum that had leaked out and slathering up-and-down his thick shaft. The vein running along its side was bulging, throbbing more with every slow stroke of your fingers wrapped around his girth. “I-I can call him.”
He didn't really look like he wanted to though, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, jaw slack like your hand alone was heaven.
“Uh-huh?”
Suguru wasn't normally this sensitive, moaning at every little touch, putty in your palm.
“Whatever you want,” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip like he was savoring the traces of you left there. It was probably wrong of you, but you sucked hard on his neck, hoping to leave a patchwork of blue and purple hickies by the time you finished, marks Suguru normally would have scolded you for, but Satoru seemed to worship, freely groaning every time your teeth brushed against him. He hissed when your grip tightened, rutting up into your hand. “Fuck, angel.”
Too distracted, too worked up to think of anything except the friction of your palm against his shaft, he didn't notice when your other hand slipped into his left pocket, plucking Suguru's phone out. Unlocking it just to find a message from ‘Gojo’ already there, along with all the unread ones you'd sent earlier. Your boyfriend so kindly informed him to go ahead and try, and what he was implying only irritated you more.
Your reply was short.
Come over.
How long would it take him to show?
Gojo could teleport, and while you had no idea if that meant Suguru would also technically be able to, the idea of your boyfriend popping in to find you jerking him but also not-him off had your blood rushing south. Your frustration fighting the lust clouding your judgment, all the cells in your body currently occupied by the thought that one of them better make you cum soon.
“There,” You mumbled, and he peeked at you through half-lidded eyes, lost in his own sea of desire.
“What?” He choked out, his voice thick as you continued pumping in your steady rhythm, his breath hitching.
You dangled the phone in front of him briefly, having to stretch to deposit it on the nightstand by your boyfriend's thin pair of reading glasses he'd left there this morning. Straining to reach over and flick the lamp on, the fading evening sunlight throwing long shadows across your bedroom. His expression twisted for a second, and you couldn't tell what he must've been thinking, but it melted into almost ecstasy when your fingers grazed against his sensitive tip.
“Toru should be here soon,” You murmured, slowly enunciating the nickname you rarely ever used for him, feeling him twitch at the way it rolled off your tongue.
“Toru?” You were pretty sure he was trying to sound jealous, but he couldn't hide the hint of pride, his ego inflating just from you mentioning him.
“Mhm,” You purred, probably having more fun than you should at playing with him the same way he always toyed with you. “You know, I think he might have a little crush on me.”
“W-what?” Hearing your boyfriend stutter was delicious, to see his composure crack so easily.
“You don't think so?” You teased, your hand jerking up and earning a low hiss.
“I don't know,” He breathlessly murmured, his cheeks flushed pink.
“Take your clothes off,” You tutted, arching your brows up and pausing there.
His moan was nothing short of filthy, his cock jerking up when your hand didn't move.
“You’re not gonna cum just from a little hand job, right honey?” You taunted, finger drifting across the slick slit along the top, another gutteral noise leaving him like he was letting you know he very well might finish before the real Suguru could show.
“Course not,” He scoffed, but it came out more like a whine.
“Then. Take. Your. Clothes. Off.” You repeated, punctuating each word with a slow drag of your fingers along the throbbing vein, watching his cheeks hollow while he sucked on his molars.
“Fine,” He grimaced, pulling away to remove his shirt first, tugging it over his head and quickly working to pull his pants and boxers down in a single fluid movement. His cock was so red it must've hurt, damp and slick as it sprung up to smack into the hard muscle of his abdomen, your eyes lingering when they landed on his dark happy trail.
When he wasn't talking, his mouth set in the same hard line and eyes fogged with hunger, it would be easy to convince yourself he was Suguru.
The knock down the hall reminded you who was really the one standing naked in front of you.
“Should I-”
“The door's unlocked,” You shrugged before you could finish, propping yourself up on your elbows while you tilted your head to the side. “Besides, can't he just teleport inside?”
You waited for an excuse, for him to give their little game away, but he didn't.
“Yeah, you're right,” He murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling you into his lap, taking the hem of your dress between his fingers and lifting it up over your head, discarding it with the rest of his clothes scattered on the floor.
The door creaked open at the same moment he unclasped your bra, his tip twitching against the hood of your clit at the slow sound of footsteps approaching.
It was funny, they were lighter than Suguru's, a little softer, but they had the same rhythm, one you automatically recognized as his.
“You nervous, baby?” You whispered, caressing his cheek.
“No,” Satoru huffed, brows furrowed together tightly.
Liar.
You were about to turn to face the open doorway, but his mouth landed on yours before you could, kissing you like it might be the last time he’d be able to. Which you guessed could be true, that even if Suguru told him he could try to fuck you, he might actually kill Satoru for it if he discovered just how close he'd already come.
His lips tearing at yours, a hand on your lower back holding you firmly against his chest while his tongue traced your teeth, slid against your own.
The actual Suguru cleared his throat.
But Satoru refused to back off, his thumb brushing over the ridges of your spine, canines tugging at your kiss-bruised lips.
“Started without me, huh?” Gojo's taunting voice called out, the wooden frame of the door creaking like he was resting his weight on it.
You managed to twist your head, lips pressing messy kisses along your neck while you assessed your new company.
Intense blue eyes narrowed, white brows scrunched together and his jaw set tight while his gaze slowly scanned over your bare body, probably already littered with hickies and bruises. He reminded you of a big cat, how leisurely he measured you, his stare flitting from you to him and back to you. Hands slung in his pockets, amusement and maybe something darker, more possessive glimmering in his eyes when they locked with yours. The lights flickered for just a second, a small crackle hanging in the open space, the air thick and charged.
“Sorry,” Satoru apathetically shrugged, unbothered while his other hand groped at your breast.
Your boyfriend wasn't looking at him(self) though, focused entirely on you.
“Suguru,” You let out a soft moan, not breaking his stare while Satoru hummed happily, rolling a nipple between his fingers, content to keep the charade up.
The one you were actually talking to smirked. A little crooked smile smugly curling up to let you know he knew you knew.
“Mm, what, sweetheart?” Satoru whispered into your skin.
“You're being a little rude ignoring our guest,” You scolded, grinding against him just enough for him to get his teeth.
“M’sorry,” He apologized again, warm eyes fluttering open when you climbed off of him, his fingertips grazing against your wrist in an attempt to stop you before you started walking over to where Suguru was leaning against the frame, and his usually passive expressions were even harder to read when they were hidden under a new face.
You hadn't been nervous before.
But walking up to Gojo while you were naked, even if you knew it was actually your Suguru was unnerving, anxiety pricking at you when you pressed a finger against his chest, just for nothing to stop you. Heart lurching in your chest, lungs no longer working when you realized infinity was on. But then he let out a small, almost inaudible sigh, and the tip of your finger was suddenly wrinkling the tight white shirt covering his broad frame.
The dull thrum of blood rushing to your head filled your ears at the way his unnatural eyes seemed to be scrutinizing every inch of your skin, how much they seemed to burn for you the longer he looked.
“Well?” You cocked your head to the side, hoping to come across as far more confident than you really were when you knew he'd be able to see straight through you.
“You wanted me here,” Suguru simply said, choosing his words carefully. The game had changed, morphed into something new, trying to make the other break first, come clean, an implicit sort of understanding exchanged in his heavy state.
“I thought you'd be a little more excited,” You tried to sigh like you were disappointed, starting to turn around just for a hand to snag your waist, his tongue clicking when he pulled you back.
“Did I say I wasn't?” He muttered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his arm snaking around your back to hold you closer until your tits were practically squished against his chest.
Your attempt to slip away was futile, his grip only getting tighter when you peered up at him, your stomach twisting when all you found was Gojo's face looking down at you, the messy white hair and the bright blue eyes you’d never seen so close, pretty pink lips pursed together.
It's not like you'd never realized he was attractive. But it'd always been more like a fact, something you'd never really paid attention to. You realized with abject horror that holy shit, you were attracted to him when your breath hitched in your throat, your thighs pressing together at his sudden proximity.
“You’re a dick,” You mumbled, squirming under his hold. You weren't positive which one you were talking to - honestly, probably both.
“Oh yeah?” Suguru chuckled, the sound of Gojo's lighthearted laughter doing nothing to soothe your nerves.
“Yeah,” You managed a tiny nod, sucking in short inhales, feeling like you were being crushed under his piercing gaze.
Someone else's hand found your hip, familiar callouses claiming you as a firm chest pressed against your back, Satoru's other one tangling itself in your hair and tugging, your head forced to tilt back to look up at the dark-haired man you were used to waking up with.
Caught between the two of them, not sure if you were ensnared in their trap or if was the other way around when you craned your neck up to smash a kiss against your not-boyfriend’s mouth, forcing the real one to watch as your tongue slipped between his lips, explored every nook and cranny you’d already committed to memory.
“Honey,” You whispered when you broke away, studying his jaw, all his familiar features, somehow still stuck reminding yourself that it wasn't Suguru when he looked at you like that. The unspoken affection, the searing adoration in the amber glow when it caught the light from the lamp.
“What’s my girl want?” Satoru teased, a deep hum in your ear.
“I want you,” You bit your lip when he gave your hair another tug, swallowing hard.
“You heard her,” Satoru mockingly addressed Suguru, oblivious to the fact he was really the one left out, unaware that the charade had been up before he’d gotten his first real taste of you.
“You can watch,” You let your gaze linger on Suguru, while Satoru pulled you free from his grasp and tossed you onto the bed.
All you heard was one short exhale before Suguru relegated himself to the oversized armchair in the corner of the room. It was supposed to be a small reading nook, tucked between the tall bookcase he built for you over the summer and the tall mirror leaning against the wall. Certainly not meant for this.
But his expression didn't change.
Lips pressed together, the muscles in his jaw pulled tight while he watched the bounce of your breasts when you hit the mattress, watched his own hands pry your thighs apart to reveal how wet you were, a few faint red splotches staining your skin to hint at what had happened before he arrived. He didn't miss the way you were watching him either. A small part of you wondered just how much he could see with Gojo's technique, considering he hadn't shown up with any of the blindfolds or bandages or sunglasses the latter usually always had with him.
But Satoru snapped you back to reality, grabbing both wrists in one huge hand and pinning them above your head, nudging your legs just enough to line himself up properly, his movements still jerky, still adjusting to his new proportions.
You had one singular moment of clarity. A split second where you realized you were actually about to let Gojo fuck you. Okay, yes, he was in Suguru's body, it was still technically him.
And the next moment he was sinking into you, and fuck, you nearly forgot everything at how fast he filled you. Whimpers your brain could barely recognize as your own falling out freely when he started fucking you like you really were his girl.
Dark bangs falling in his face, the first beads of sweat sitting his forehead, hovering over you like he was trying to sear what you looked like underneath him in his brain.
His thumb digging into the divot of your wrist, the mattress creaking when he found a pace bordering on brutal. Each thrust hard and fast, his hips smacking against your skin while you hooked one leg around his waist, your chest heaving with every shuddered breath.
“Mine,” He murmured, low enough you suspected he hadn't intended for Suguru to hear, but in the blurred edges of your vision, you caught the way your boyfriend's fist tightened, how white his knuckles were.
You figured it was a fifty-fifty chance on whether Satoru was saying it purely to piss him off or if he was trying to stay in-character.
“Mm, all yours,” You whined back, straining under his grip, absolutely hoping to get a reaction out of Suguru.
You'd never expected Satoru to be so, well, desperate.
It almost felt like he was trying to brand you, ingrain himself so deeply you'd never be able to root him out.
“I wanna touch you,” You jutted out your bottom lip, flexing the tendons in your wrist where his hold was starting to ache. His hips stuttered at your request, pausing to recollect himself, his hair hanging down in a thick curtain. Releasing your hands with a heavy breath, cock twitching when you reached up to brush his bangs back.
It had to be muscle memory.
But you could've sworn you saw his lips mouthing an ‘I love you’ before they met yours.
Satoru never really gave your thoughts the time to linger on anything though, hips pounding into you, trying to press the shape of you into the squeaking mattress, the bed’s wooden headboard smacking into the wall in time with every forceful thrust.
Mumbling mindless compliments into your skin between every kiss, promises of how pretty you looked like this, how much he was yours.
As much as you loved hearing those words come from Geto's mouth, the shriveled up leftovers of your logic reminded you that just because Satoru never shut up, it didn't mean he actually meant any of it.
It was just his dick talking.
Probably.
He had one hand behind your neck, cradling your head up so it was easier for him to kiss you, distracting you from where his other one was heading until it was already there, his fingers forming a sharp ‘V’ as they skimmed over your clit, teasingly kimming over it just to return to massage rough patterns over it, not very discreetly experimenting with what made you gasp, thighs squeezing around him. Your own fingers tangled in his hair pulling free to scramble for his broad shoulder blades, the nails scratching down his back earning you a heedy moan, his hips suddenly bucking up, and you weren't sure what pushed you over, the tip grinding hard against the spongy little spot at the back or how he rolled the already overworked bundle of nerves between his index and thumb, but you were crying out, tiny stars dotting your vision eyes clenched shut, legs quivering when you came.
“Fuck, you're gonna make me-” His quiet curse was cut short with a raspy moan, stalling out inside you, frozen except for the breaths he managed to suck in and force out, finishing earlier than he'd intended.
The thick warmth of his cum already started to leak down the inside of your thighs, coating his still-throbbing shaft when he reluctantly pulled out.
You kissed him anyway.
The same way you had when you still thought he was Suguru, just a tender one pressed to the edges of his lips before he untangled himself from you, flipping over next to you to stare at the ceiling fan slowly spinning overhead.
Suguru laughed.
“It's my turn, isn't it?”
The lilt of his voice, the way his mouth quirked up in half a smile stole the breath from your throat.
You could feel your chin turn up, but you couldn't control it, couldn't move when it felt like all you did was blink and he was standing up, article after article of clothing being peeled off, tossing them over to the half-empty laundry basket in the closet. Satoru was still dazed, blinking lazily next to you, head reclined back on the pillow, Adam's apple bobbing through his ragged breathing.
“Well?” Suguru mimicked your tone from earlier, padding over to your side of the bed left only in a plain white pair of boxers. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your eyes automatically trailing down his sculpted chest, the defined muscles of his abs down to the trail of white peeking out above the band of his underwear. In a fluid movement, he was shedding those off too, his cock springing up the second it was free.
And shit, Gojo really had won the fucking generic lottery when he was born, because how the fuck was that fair? Even his dick was pretty. Not quite as thick as Suguru's, but longer, a slight curve to it, the tip a tantalizing pink.
You had to swallow the spit pooling in your mouth.
“Forget how to use your words?” He tsk-ed, one knee sinking into the mattress next to you, a soft hand slipping down to the small of your back and pulling into the warmth of his chest. Picking you up, holding you how he always had, cradling you and carrying you in front of the mirror. But he smelled like Satoru, the candied scent of his cologne, the sweetness flooding your nostrils.
“No,” You choked out, loathing how small it sounded. Staring at the sharp outline of his collarbones so you didn't have to look at his face, brain refusing to reconcile who you were looking at with who it actually was.
Suguru wasn't having it.
It was hard to tell what happened first when you still felt so dizzy, how fast he sat down, his hand twisting you around so you were on his lap, his chest on your back, his erection pressed against your spine. Forced to meet your own glossy eyes in the mirror, the necklace of hickeys left around your throat, your trembling body perched prettily on Gojo's thighs. His fingers pulling your thighs apart, repositioning you until you were directly above the dripping tip, your mouth dry at the thought of taking all of him like this.
You didn't think it'd fit.
For all your teasing and taunting, he was about to give you back everything you gave him tenfold.
“Su-” You nearly slipped up, blinking too fast.
But he shoved two fingers in your mouth, muffling your voice before Satoru overheard and spoiled the fun.
Automatically, you parted your lips for him, swirling your tongue around his knuckles, sucking softly, lashes fluttering closed while he ghosted over your entrance, his free hand tugging your hips down, pushing himself in inch by excruciating inch.
“C’mere,” He murmured in your ear, forcing past barely-there ring of resistance, all your muscles squeezing hard around him like he was the interloper here.
“Oh, oh,” You panted, probably incoherent talking with his fingers pressed against your tongue like that. Your thighs quivering with the strain of being spread so open, your sore walls stretching around the delicious length of his shaft, the veins throbbing inside you while he continued to hold you down, slowly filling you up.
“Sweetheart,” He purred, using the same saccharine voice Gojo always did, and you almost jolted, squirming, but he just chuckled dryly, clicking his tongue as he paused, the sound not quite covering your own whimper. Your chin tilted up, head reclining back to rest against his chest, pushing puffs of air out of your nose, clawing for some tiny sliver of control.
“Fuck,” The sound of Suguru's voice from across the room, Satoru finally noticing what you and your boyfriend were doing with his body.
Peeking through heavy lashes to find his dark gaze in the mirror, his jaw slack at the sight of you looking so fucked-out on top of him, the needy noises pouring out despite the fingers still stuck in your mouth.
“Eyes on me,” Your boyfriend muttered, his quiet voice firm when you pulled your attention back to the man behind you in the mirror.
Cold blue eyes locked onto yours, his pale cheeks making the flush show easier, his lips a pretty shade of pink while they left phantom kisses across the column of your throat.
“Please,” You whispered against his fingers, his twitch feeling more like torture the longer he refused to move.
He pulled his fingers out, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip with a pleased sigh, slowly skimming his hand down your front so he could hold your other hip, his touch surprisingly delicate, controlled.
“You really want me to fuck you while your boyfriend watches?” Suguru mocked, and you guessed it wasn't even incorrect in his assessment even if he was just playing his role. And really, he made a far better Gojo than the cheap imitation Satoru had been giving you of Geto.
You shakily nodded, your own hands gripping onto his, fingers laced between his much longer ones, the pad of your thumb rubbing tiny circles over his knuckles, a silent reminder that you loved him despite whatever lengths you were both willing to go to win this stupid game.
“Please,” You repeated.
He bottomed out before you could breathe, his hips jerking up at the same time as he yanked you down, his tip not grazing, but smashed against your womb, deep enough that you were instinctively falling forward, trying to wiggle away, but he pulled you back before you could hit the mirror.
Whatever sound came out was strangled, your brain and your guts quite literally being scrambled by his rough thrusts, his hands easing you up just to spear you back down, feeling almost like you were being split open on his intimidating length.
“I-I,” You were stammering, gasping for air when every stroke seemed to slam the breath right out of you.
“What, baby?” He teased, his left hand drifting up to the bare strip of your midriff below your belly button, pressing down on it as if he could feel himself there.
“S’ too much,” You practically slurred, drunk on him and the stretch and the burn. He leaned in closer until his canines were teasing at your earlobe, shivering at how much of his body was already connected with yours.
“My love,” He coo-ed, for your ears only, lost under the filthy smack of his hips against your skin, the sloppy noises of him bucking up into you. “You can take it.”
It was embarrassing how easily he was pushing you back towards the edge, already on the precipice of another orgasm. Knowing your body like the back of his hand, angling himself to hit the same spongy spot as before, tears brimming along your lashes at how wrong right it felt.
How wrecked he looked in the mirror didn't help.
The stark white hair glued to his forehead with sweat, the muscles straining in his face, his bicep bulging, his fingers splayed out further to press down harder on your stomach, your body locking up when he drove himself deeper.
“S-Satoru,” You whined, starting to wonder if his dick was somehow lodged in your throat with how hard it was to manage less than a handful of syllables out.
“Mm?”
“Yeah?”
Idiots.
Suguru paused mid-thrust, sighing, stark-white eyebrows furrowed in frustration when he realized Satoru actually responded at the same time as him.
You both turned, peering over Gojo's shoulder at the real him.
You didn't think you'd ever seen Geto make that face, the panic that tinged his features, his mouth hanging open like even Satoru couldn't believe he'd given himself away.
“I-uh, listen,” He started to speak again, until his dark eyes narrowed, belatedly realizing that all your faces reflected was mild annoyance instead of confusion.
“I think I still won,” You peered up at your boyfriend with a little huff, pouting.
“Did you now?” He wryly murmured back, and you knew you lost when all it took was a harsh roll of his hips for you to moan his name this time.
“Shit, Suguru,” You whined, gripping his right hand tight to anchor yourself when you were already fully at his whim. You were throbbing around him, the heat building from within, the swollen bundle of nerves starting to ache from his neglect.
“Giving up already?” He taunted.
You stayed silent, lips pressed together tight to hold in what might've been a rebuttal or begging.
“Oh?”
He hoisted you up, your whine at how empty you felt without him ringing through the room until he positioned you on the bed, manhandling you into place until you were on your hands and knees in front of his best friend. Satoru was blinking hard, sitting up and staring at you like he couldn't believe you were real.
It was something you'd seen before.
The silky black hair, the bangs stuck to his skin, the veins popping out on his fist when it was wrapped around his cock, a weird sort of comfort reassuring you at the soft sound of your name falling out of his mouth.
“When did you figure-”
“The kitchen,” You started to shrug, a barely-there smile curling up until Suguru suddenly slid inside, not stopping until he managed to snugly force himself in to the hilt, your lips falling open as you made a strangled yelp.
The force of it pushing you forward, your hand grabbing one of Geto's sturdy thighs, scrambling for something to hold onto, Gojo's nails clawing at your hips, probably leaving little crescent moons on your skin. You doubted Suguru even realized it, his own usually clipped too-short to ever leave marks.
Geto's cock was barely inches away, the thick vein running along the side pulsing, Satoru apparently throbbing at the sight of him fucking you like you were on some invisible leash.
He might as well have been drooling.
“I think he needs a little help, baby,” Suguru was making fun of him, but you didn't think Satoru had it in him to care about anything other than the need that was surely coiling just as tightly inside him as it was in you.
“Yeah?” You asked him, trailing your hand higher until it was cupping his balls, just close enough for your fingers to brush against where his own were wrapped so tightly around his dick. “You want my help, Toru?”
His hand jerked up hard when you leaned in to slowly wrap your mouth around his tip, the point of your tongue slowly swirling over it.
You were content to keep teasing him, but your boyfriend had something else in mind, his next thrust unexpectedly forcing you to take Satoru in, the vein thrumming along your tongue as he hit the back of your throat. You nearly gagged, barely stopping yourself from biting down when you couldn't even breathe.
“Doin’ so good,” Suguru murmured softly, appreciatively, trailing delicate fingers across your spine to stop right at the nape of your neck, a smooth palm resting against it. You shivered, your shoulders rolling back just for him to push your head down on the last couple inches you hadn't managed to fit in your mouth before.
“Oh fuck.”
You were inclined to agree with Satoru.
Actually gagging now, your cheeks hollowed out in your weak attempts to bob your head up-and-down, but he was acting like it was the best head he'd ever received, his groans sticking out over the sound of skin-on-skin and the never-ending whines of the mattress (and you.)
“You okay?” Suguru muttered in your ear, his chest resting on top of your back, planting soft kisses over the sore bruises lining your collarbone. Checking in to make sure it wasn't too much like he didn't already know you just wanted more. Filled-up and fucked-out and somehow still starving for whatever affection either one would offer.
“Mhm,” You moaned, the sound from your throat practically making the cock in your mouth jump at how needy it sounded.
Suguru was the kind of man who'd put your needs first.
Just in his, uh, own way.
Something almost intangible stretching you further, almost like Suguru had somehow managed to slip a condom on without even slipping out of you. Your mind was too hazy to process what was happening while it expanded in the tiniest of increments, your body reflexively jolting forward with nowhere to go. Whimpering meekly, your fingers digging into Geto's muscled thighs like it'd help any.
“Oh, that's mean, Suguru,” Satoru chuckled hoarsely, apparently realizing what was happening before you had.
It wasn't until you noticed that there weren't any nails sinking into your skin, no honeyed kisses tracing your neck that you figured out Suguru was using infinity again.
“I'm mean?” Suguru wryly scoffed, more amused than annoyed considering he was still buried deep enough inside you he could probably feel your guts. “What do you think, sweetheart?”
He leaned in impossibly close, shuddering at the immense weight of the distance bearing down on you.
Even if they weren't both stuffing you full, you didn't know if you'd be able to formulate a reply. Stuck dumbly shaking your head no to take Suguru's side, shamelessly grinding your ass back against him, reduced to chasing your most basic instinct.
This time Satoru laughed, laced with a tight sort of disbelief. But you went back down on him, running your tongue along the vein and feeling the automatic rut of his hips, the laughter turning into a breathy moan of your name. Reaching out to caress your face while he fucked it, clearly close to cumming again.
Probably bruising the walls of your throat with the way he was rutting up into it, the girth forced up against the roof of your mouth. The sweet nothings rolling so easily off his tongue clued you in before the vein pulsing along the swirls of your tongue did, thick ropes of cum hitting the back of your throat, the tension in his muscles all relaxing at the same time while you struggled to swallow all of it.
“God, I fucking adore you,” Satoru groaned, not making a move to pull out this time even after the last drops leaked out.
“Watch your mouth, Satoru,” Suguru warned.
“Well, technically, it's yours,” Satoru reminded him.
Infinity flickered off. It was hard to tell if it was on purpose or if maybe it was too much to maintain.
But Satoru slipped out of your mouth, watching you through half-lidded eyes, the pupils so wide they almost looked entirely black. Combing his fingers through his long hair, untangling a tiny knot you probably put in it tugging it earlier.
“Suguru,” You mewled, glancing over your shoulder at the white-haired sorcerer behind you, immediately regretting it at how tightly your stomach knotted at the reminder of whose body was fucking you.
You hated to admit it, but you were nearing your limit and you wouldn't put it past him to work you well over it if you didn't concede defeat soon.
“Yeah?” He softened, his harsh pumps easing, his thumb hooked over your hip tracing tiny patterns.
“You win,” You muttered under your breath, biting down on your lip.
“I know,” His voice was low, rolling straight through you, only stoking the desperation clawing its way up from your core.
Losing was still fun when it was with him.
His hand slipping around, not having to fumble to immediately find your clit, pinching at the sore bud just to make you gasp.
“Say please,” He teased, your company clearly in mind considering how much he was making you beg for it.
Satoru wasn't wrong. Suguru could be mean. You just liked it.
“Please,” Your whisper was more of a rattle, your vocal cords straining to get the noise out. But it was enough. The pressure of his fingers working circles over your clit, massaging the same determined motions against it, damp streaks trailing down your cheeks at the tears brimming over your lashes.
The crescendo finally cresting, a white-hot wave of pleasure hitting you when pressed down just right. Blinding you to anything else other than the way he burned inside you, the ache in your heart at his proximity. You were only dimly aware of him cumming a handful of seconds later, just a faint inkling of surprise that he hadn't pulled out considering he was in Gojo's body, your already slick thighs pressing together when he pulled out like it'd contain what was dripping down them.
Your knees buckled, body simply refusing to support your weight and brain doing nothing to stop it.
Satoru caught you, leaning over to hook a sturdy arm around you and pull you on top of him, his other palm pressing your head down against his broad frame. His skin was still sticky, slick with sweat, every breath he forced in and out of his lungs making his chest move, the steady thrum of his heartbeat reverberating in your ear.
You didn't have enough strength left to move, letting him stroke your hair softly in silence.
Even if he wasn't currently stuck in Suguru's body, you suspected you'd still let him.
"You're okay," You barely processed his smooth murmur, still too lost in the haze of what happened.
"I would like my girlfriend back now," Suguru dryly remarked, a second set of hands sliding up your hips to grab your waist.
"Mine."
Did Satoru even realize how much he sounded like a five year old trying to steal someone else's toy on the playground?
Suguru crudely laughed, and your shiver was involuntary, how wrong it sounded to hear Gojo's body sound like that.
But he tugged you free from his own body's grasp, pulling you into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, a hand on your back to support you while he stood in front of you.
You didn't know if you could ever get used to this.
Staring at Gojo and knowing it was really Suguru, hearing his voice and feeling his hands, picking up on all the little mannerisms you'd grown attached to over the past couple years, how strange it felt to watch someone else do them.
"Are you-" You paused, flinching a little at how raw your throat felt. "Um, how long are you guys going to be stuck like this?"
"Dunno," Satoru chirped from the other end of the bed behind you while Suguru sighed, rolling those pretty blue eyes.
"Shoko said it might be a day or two," Suguru answered slowly, his serious stare focused on you, a deep crease between his brows that you'd never seen on Gojo before.
"Might?" You questioned, the first icy pinpricks of something close to dread starting to sink in at his careful choice of words.
"She has no idea," Satoru unhelpfully chimed in again, revealing what you guessed was probably the truth judging by Suguru's strained expression.
"You shouldn't worry about it, okay?"
It was pretty hard not to worry when those were the words leaving Gojo's mouth.
He leaned down to kiss you, softer this time, cupping your cheeks. You peeked, unable to help yourself. His sharp nose brushing against yours, his snowy lashes fluttered shut, the white brows peeking out above them.
"Kiss her like you mean it," Satoru heckled, the bed creaking while he got up. Suguru scoffed at his snipe, barely breaking the kiss. But he did listen, his teeth grazing against your swollen lower lip to dip his tongue further in.
“That better?” Suguru sarcastically remarked when he pulled away.
“Could you do it again so I can get a picture?” Satoru was holding up his own phone, snagged from the pants Suguru had discarded earlier, his camera actually pointed towards where you were currently sitting in front of his actual body.
You were huffing, everything aching when you scrambled back to grab a pillow from the top of the bed to throw at him, giggling to yourself when you remembered he no longer had infinity to block it, the pillow smacking him straight in the face.
Suguru laughed at him, a lopsided smile forming when the six eyes landed on you.
“Don't think you're off the hook either,” You pouted, common sense and reasoning starting to trickle in for the first time since Satoru showed up.
“You wanna punish me first?” Satoru cheekily volunteered himself, not making a move to put any of his, or you guessed really any of Geto's clothes back on.
“Shut up,” Your face was still flushed, turning away, not sure how to even keep eye contact with either of them when they were swapped like this.
“Guess we should all just spend the night here, huh?”
poll on what happens in pt. two here
mini a/n: pls lemme know if you enjoyed hehe!!! this is meant to be a oneshot but honestly I'm so tempted to write literally a prequel a sequel and a spinoff bc I simply cannot help myself lmfao <3
taglist: @universal-s1ut @marrymenanami @suguru-ch
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mme the next appointment NOW‼️‼️‼️
