synopsis : satoru gojo's a real asshole. unfortunately, he's also the kind of asshole that keeps you spoiled enough to stay and desperate enough to never leave. funny how those two always seem to go hand in hand.
content warning : extremely toxic relationship • dumb and naive reader • manipulation • emotional abuse • gaslighting • degradation • humiliation • possessive behavior • coercive sexual relationship • dubious consent / coercive consent • power imbalance • financial dependence • objectification • virginity loss • bodyshaming • crying kink • oet names • kitty play • mean gojo • explicit sexual content • mdni • 18+.
GAME OVER.
Gojo threw his headphones across the room. They smacked straight into his friend’s chest with a dull thud.
"For fuck’s sake… why the hell are you cunts so fuckin' useless?"
The silence that followed was thick enough to chew. His friend rubbed the spot where the headphones hit. "Come on, man. They were actually good—"
"Good?" Gojo barked out a mean laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t make me laugh. You played like shit and now you’re defending it? Asshole."
The guy opened his mouth, then wisely closed it. What was the point, anyways? They were all spread out in Gojo’s massive room, on his expensive couch, playing on his PS5, breathing his filtered air.
Daddy’s money ran this whole damn house, and everyone knew it. Challenging him was a quick way to get tossed out on your ass. So his friend did the most sane thing, swallowing his pride straight up and stared at the floor.
Gojo shoved himself up from the couch, long legs kicking out hard enough to nail the guy dozing on the beanbag right in the ribs.
"Ouch— what the fuck, man?!" The sleeper jolted awake, blinking confused.
"Fuckin' useless. Go fuck your moms for all I care."
That one landed wrong. The only guy in the group with half a spine straightened up. "Hey. That’s too far. Watch your mouth."
Gojo froze mid-step, head turning slow like a predator catching a scent. The rest of the boys exchanged quick glances and started setting the controllers down real careful, as if any sudden movement might set him off.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" Gojo’s voice dropped into a dangerous growl, blue eyes narrowing until they looked like shards of ice.
The guy put his hands up fast. "Easy, I didn’t mean—"
He didn’t get to finish. Gojo’s glare pinned him in place. "Out. All of you. Get the fuck out of my house."
He jerked his thumb toward the door. No one argued. They scrambled up, grabbing phones, hoodies, and whatever else they’d scattered across the floor, muttering curses under their breath just quiet enough that Gojo wouldn’t hear. Nobody wanted to test whether the prick would actually swing tonight.
In under a minute the room was empty except for the low hum of the AC and the faint smell of snacks.
Gojo rolled his shoulders, already over it. He yanked open his wardrobe, pulled on a black jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent, snatched his cap off the table, and grabbed his keys.
The anger was already cooling into something else. He thumbed open his phone, typed fast, and hit send without a second thought.
I’m coming over.
The message, of course, went unread. The supposed receiver was dead asleep, curled up in bed with that stupid teddy plushie clutched to the chest, completely unaware of the headache pulling into her apartment complex.
***
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
Satoru Gojo's patience lasted exactly three rings before it snapped in half. He leaned on the doorbell again, then switched to pounding his fist against the wood hard enough to rattle the frame.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
“Fuckin' bitch, the hell she doing in there?” he muttered, stalking over to the side window and trying to peer through the blinds like some pissed off burglar.
“OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR, Y/N!”
That, apparently was the magic phrase.
You snapped awake in bed, teddy plushie falling over to the floor. The knocking kept coming, angry and impatient. You scrambled up, bare feet slapping against the cool floor as you rushed to the door. Heart in your throat, you pressed your eye to the peephole.
And there he was. Satoru Gojo in all his furious glory, face flushed red, jaw locked tight like he was two seconds from kicking the door down and burning the whole damn building.
"Shit. He’s gonna kill me."
You quickly smoothed down your messy hair and tugged at your pajamas, trying to look at least halfway presentable before cracking the door open. Gojo's eyes dropped to you immediately, the kind of look reserved for people caught red-handed committing a crime.
“Where the fuck were you, bitch?” he barked, voice loud in the quiet hallway.
You flinched, lips trembling with shock. “M’sorry, Toru… I was asleep—”
“The hell are you still wearing those for?” He gestured at your baggy pajamas with clear disgust. “I told you I was coming over. Show some skin for fuck’s sake.”
Your brain was racing through every possible way you could’ve messed up. That poor little head of yours working overtime while your eyes started watering, the whites of them turning pink.
“I didn’t see it, Toru… don’t be mad. I'm sorry…” your voice cracked, tears spilling over before you could stop them.
Gojo rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. “For god’s sake, stop crying, y/n. Such a damn crybaby.”
“But you’re being so mean,” you whimpered, wiping at your damp cheeks. “I told you I was sleeping…”
He let out a long groan, dragging a hand down his face. “Ughhh, fine. Just go get changed already.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation. Gojo pushed past you like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. He gave you the apartment just so you’d have somewhere nice to live. No bills, no worries, just you waiting for him whenever he felt like blowing some load.
Win-win, he'd say. You got to live for free and spoiled, and he got a pretty dumb thing all to himself waiting for him.
He dropped onto the couch, legs spread wide, scrolling through his phone while you disappeared into the bedroom. A few minutes later the door clicked open again.
Gojo looked up slowly… and good heavens.
There you were, standing in the doorway in that white kitten fur bikini set he’d picked out himself. Tiny top barely holding your tits, bottoms sitting low on your hips, soft white kitty ears perched on your head and a matching tail swishing behind you with every nervous step. The tiny pink accents here and there made the whole thing look so cute and slutty at the same time.
Exactly what he wanted. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, the earlier anger melting into something hotter and darker.
In his defense, when he said he was coming over, that should've been enough. It always meant the same thing: drop whatever the fuck you’re doing and get ready for him. Pick the most scandalous set you own from all those slutty lingeries, barely-there scraps of fabric he’s filled your closet with. Each one worse (or better, depending how you look at it) than the last.
At this point you’ve got more of this shit than normal clothes, but isn’t that exactly how it’s supposed to be anyway?
He’s the man here. He protects you, provides for you, takes care of everything. All you gotta do is listen, do what he says, wear what he wants.
Your primary fucking job is to welcome him home like this. Dolled up in the little slutty set that makes his blood rush straight to his dick the second he walks through the door. So that he doesn’t just “want” to fuck you… he needs to.
He leaned back further into the couch, watching you walk over with a hungry stare, eyes dragging slow from your ears down to the soft sway of your hips and that ridiculous little tail.
Couldn't even blame himself for the way his cock jumped hard in his pants on the sight. Your tits looked so fucking soft and heavy in that tiny top, thin straps fighting for dear life just to keep them squeezed together. They bounced just right with every shy little step you took, enough to make any man with a dick bust a huge load of nut in his pants like a loser.
Yeah… he’d molded you into a perfect little slut.
You weren’t always like this, though. You swear you weren’t.
Just a clueless first-year wandering around campus, still trying to figure out where the hell the library was. That’s how you ended up pushing open the wrong classroom door at the exact wrong moment.
Satoru Gojo, the biggest asshole the campus had ever seen—pants half-down, sweet-talking some poor girl he’d spent days manipulating.
The girl’s eyes went wide when she saw you. She squeaked, yanked her skirt down, and bolted straight past you like her life depended on it.
You’d just stood there, blinking and mumbling, “Oh sorry—sorry, my bad,” before trying to close the door again.
Too fuckin' late.
Gojo had been furious. Anyone would be, right?
All that effort wasted because some dumb girl wandered in and decided to cockblock him. He’d cornered you in the empty hallway before you could even run, towering over you while you pouted and sniffled like a scared kitten.
The more you cried and stammered apologies, the harder he got. Something in that pretty, teary face flipped a switch in him. He made the decision right then and there: new prey acquired.
He eyed you up and down like fresh meat, that sharp instinct of his kicking in immediately. Because Satoru Gojo could smell virgins from a mile away. Something about the way their eyes went all wide and clueless. He saw it in you the second you walked in on him. Not a single fuckin' thought behind those pretty eyes.
He couldn’t believe his luck, honestly. Just when he thought one had slipped away from him, another one showed up. Even better, even dumber, practically offering herself up on a silver platter right in front of him. And the cherry on top? this one looked like she’d be so much easier.
“Ever been fucked?”
You blinked fast. Yup, you heard that right. First guy you ever meet on this campus and that’s his opener. No hi, no what’s your name, no you’re pretty. Straight to business.
“W—what??”
“I said…” his hand shot out, grabbing your waist hard enough to bruise as the other slid down under your skirt without any hesitation. Long fingers crawled up your thighs, rubbing slow rough circles right over your crotch through your panties. He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “Has a cock been in this hole?”
You shook your head, slow and shaky.
“Words.”
“N-nooo…”
“Mhmm. Jackpot.”
Before you could even process it, he had your wrist in a vice grip, dragging you straight to his car like you were already his. One thing led to another and yeah, he kinda took your virginity the same night.
But hey, he was supposed to get laid and you ruined it for him. Isn't it your responsibility to fix it now?
Well, it's not like you were exactly complaining, even if you were scared shitless at first. The man had a tongue like a demon. He ate your little cunt for over an hour. Sucking, licking, kissing every inch until you were leaking wet and loose enough for his monster cock to finally push in. He stretched you open so good you saw stars, crying and shaking the whole time while he laughed low in your ear and told you to take it like a good girl.
And that was just the beginning.
He fucked you the next day. And the day after. And on most days, if not every damn day after that. Turned you into his personal cocksleeve who waited in the apartment he got you just so he could have easy access whenever he got bored or pissed off.
That’s how you met Satoru Gojo.
And that’s exactly how you ended up on his lap right now, dressed like a kitty whore while he squeezed your tits and smirked up at you with the same hungry look he had back then.
“Come on, baby… what’s with the face, hmm?” he asked, rocking his hips slow under you so your pretty body moved with every lazy thrust.
You kept pouting, sniffling like a spoiled brat. “Why did you shout at me…”
“Hmm, sorry baby, my bad… I was pissed, yeah?” his fingers tugged the fur cups of your bikini top down hard, letting your fat tits spill out and bounce free. He squeezed them immediately, thumbs flicking over your nipples.
“But what did I dooo…” you whined again, curling your fingers tight into his sleeves.
This fucking bitch. All he wanted was to blow off some steam after that shitty game by pumping you full of cum, and now he had to babysit a crybaby.
Whatever. Pussy was pussy.
He faked a sweet smile and leaned in, kissing your lips soft. “Not at you, silly. How could I be mad at you?”
“You’re such a liar… you were definitely mad at me…”
The tears started pouring again in broken little sobs, even while you kept grinding your soaked cunt carefully over his bulge.
Satoru’s left eye twitched. His big hands groped your tits harder, squeezing the soft heavy flesh. He likes to call them cow titties because they were so fucking big and he says it's useless and not pretty enough to look at, only good for using like cocksleeves. He’d never admit they looked goddamn perfect on you. He gave them another rough squeeze, face turning mean enough to shut you up.
“Anything to say?” he growled, grabbing two handfuls of your ass and spreading you wide. Your clit smashed right against his rock-hard cock through the fabric.
“Toruuu—nghhh, right there…” you moaned loud, starting to bounce on him with a vision now, tits flopping left and right with every desperate jump.
“How many fuckin' times do I gotta tell you to quit acting like a damn slut, huh?” he slapped your ass hard, the sharp crack making you squeak.
“I'm sorry Toru… please… wan’ it…”
“Oh yeah?” his hands locked on your hips and started bouncing you faster, helping you rub your pussy up and down his bulge. “Want what, baby?”
“Mmm… want you… to put it in… in me… please…”
Satoru threw his head back and laughed, loud and mean. Truth be told, he wasn’t even into girls like this. He liked them scared and shy, the kind who never asked for shit so he could take his sweet time breaking them. You used to be exactly like that too… until he trained you to be a house slut. His fault, really.
“Toruuu…” you called out again, still bouncing on him so eagerly, tits jiggling everywhere. “Please…”
“That so?” he suddenly stopped you, gripping your hips hard and grinding you down tight against his cock. “Do it yourself then.”
Your eyes lit up like he’d just handed you the moon. You quickly slid your bikini bottoms to the side, yanked his boxers down, and his thick cock sprang up, slapping heavy and hot right against your bare pussy.
“Owww…”
“Aww, he’s mean, huh?” he mocked, grinning at you.
You pouted but wrapped your shaky hand around that burning meat, thick veins pulsing under your fingers. You positioned the fat head right between your soaked folds and started rubbing him against your clit. The groan he let out was so loud you almost thought he came already.
“C’mere, fuckin’ god…” he pulled you flush against his chest, arms wrapping you up tight, your legs locking around his waist. His cock trapped between your leaking pussy lips, sliding messy through all that slick.
“Toruu…”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He started snapping his hips fast, humping your wet folds, fat head catching on your hole every thrust. Your lewd moans right in his ear made him leak precum like a faucet.
“Mmm Toru… ahhh please… too much… nghh…”
You were clinging to him for dear life, nails digging in while he humped your sloppy pussy like an animal. With one loud cry you came hard all over him, gushing wet and nasty. He followed right after, painting your pussy and inner thighs in thick white streaks of cum.
“Fuckin’ nasty…” he grinned down at your fucked-out face, surprised you looked this gone just from humping. He hadn’t even put it in. He had other plans, though.
“Get off,” he said, eyes turning cold in a heartbeat.
“Hmm? but whyy??” you blinked at the sudden switch.
“I said get off me.”
You obeyed, sliding off slow and shaky. He wiped his cock clean and buckled up, grabbing his jacket like he was done with you.
“But Toruu… we…”
“Didn’t fuck? yeah. Ain’t gonna do it. Gonna go find some other bitches.” He shrugged, pulling his jacket on.
“Toru nooo— what, please I’m sorry—”
At this point you didn’t even know what you were sorry for.
“Please Toru…” Tears started streaming down your face. “Don’t leave… please, I beg you...”
He ignored you completely, walking out and slamming the door behind him leaving you as you dropped on the floor half naked, sobbing loud, wondering what the fuck you did wrong and how hard you’d have to try just so he wouldn’t go fuck other girls.
Outside, Gojo walked to his car with a big shit eating grin.
There weren’t any other bitches. Hadn’t been since the day he met you. But you didn’t need to know that. Did you?
He wanted you right there. Desperate, messy, crying on the floor, his pretty little crybaby. Trying so hard to please him, head full of him. Because, as far as Gojo was concerned, that was exactly where you belonged.
synopsis : satoru gojo's a real asshole. unfortunately, he's also the kind of asshole that keeps you spoiled enough to stay and desperate enough to never leave. funny how those two always seem to go hand in hand.
content warning : extremely toxic relationship • dumb and naive reader • manipulation • emotional abuse • gaslighting • degradation • humiliation • possessive behavior • coercive sexual relationship • dubious consent / coercive consent • power imbalance • financial dependence • objectification • virginity loss • bodyshaming • crying kink • oet names • kitty play • mean gojo • explicit sexual content • mdni • 18+.
GAME OVER.
Gojo threw his headphones across the room. They smacked straight into his friend’s chest with a dull thud.
"For fuck’s sake… why the hell are you cunts so fuckin' useless?"
The silence that followed was thick enough to chew. His friend rubbed the spot where the headphones hit. "Come on, man. They were actually good—"
"Good?" Gojo barked out a mean laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t make me laugh. You played like shit and now you’re defending it? Asshole."
The guy opened his mouth, then wisely closed it. What was the point, anyways? They were all spread out in Gojo’s massive room, on his expensive couch, playing on his PS5, breathing his filtered air.
Daddy’s money ran this whole damn house, and everyone knew it. Challenging him was a quick way to get tossed out on your ass. So his friend did the most sane thing, swallowing his pride straight up and stared at the floor.
Gojo shoved himself up from the couch, long legs kicking out hard enough to nail the guy dozing on the beanbag right in the ribs.
"Ouch— what the fuck, man?!" The sleeper jolted awake, blinking confused.
"Fuckin' useless. Go fuck your moms for all I care."
That one landed wrong. The only guy in the group with half a spine straightened up. "Hey. That’s too far. Watch your mouth."
Gojo froze mid-step, head turning slow like a predator catching a scent. The rest of the boys exchanged quick glances and started setting the controllers down real careful, as if any sudden movement might set him off.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" Gojo’s voice dropped into a dangerous growl, blue eyes narrowing until they looked like shards of ice.
The guy put his hands up fast. "Easy, I didn’t mean—"
He didn’t get to finish. Gojo’s glare pinned him in place. "Out. All of you. Get the fuck out of my house."
He jerked his thumb toward the door. No one argued. They scrambled up, grabbing phones, hoodies, and whatever else they’d scattered across the floor, muttering curses under their breath just quiet enough that Gojo wouldn’t hear. Nobody wanted to test whether the prick would actually swing tonight.
In under a minute the room was empty except for the low hum of the AC and the faint smell of snacks.
Gojo rolled his shoulders, already over it. He yanked open his wardrobe, pulled on a black jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent, snatched his cap off the table, and grabbed his keys.
The anger was already cooling into something else. He thumbed open his phone, typed fast, and hit send without a second thought.
I’m coming over.
The message, of course, went unread. The supposed receiver was dead asleep, curled up in bed with that stupid teddy plushie clutched to the chest, completely unaware of the headache pulling into her apartment complex.
***
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
Satoru Gojo's patience lasted exactly three rings before it snapped in half. He leaned on the doorbell again, then switched to pounding his fist against the wood hard enough to rattle the frame.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
“Fuckin' bitch, the hell she doing in there?” he muttered, stalking over to the side window and trying to peer through the blinds like some pissed off burglar.
“OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR, Y/N!”
That, apparently was the magic phrase.
You snapped awake in bed, teddy plushie falling over to the floor. The knocking kept coming, angry and impatient. You scrambled up, bare feet slapping against the cool floor as you rushed to the door. Heart in your throat, you pressed your eye to the peephole.
And there he was. Satoru Gojo in all his furious glory, face flushed red, jaw locked tight like he was two seconds from kicking the door down and burning the whole damn building.
"Shit. He’s gonna kill me."
You quickly smoothed down your messy hair and tugged at your pajamas, trying to look at least halfway presentable before cracking the door open. Gojo's eyes dropped to you immediately, the kind of look reserved for people caught red-handed committing a crime.
“Where the fuck were you, bitch?” he barked, voice loud in the quiet hallway.
You flinched, lips trembling with shock. “M’sorry, Toru… I was asleep—”
“The hell are you still wearing those for?” He gestured at your baggy pajamas with clear disgust. “I told you I was coming over. Show some skin for fuck’s sake.”
Your brain was racing through every possible way you could’ve messed up. That poor little head of yours working overtime while your eyes started watering, the whites of them turning pink.
“I didn’t see it, Toru… don’t be mad. I'm sorry…” your voice cracked, tears spilling over before you could stop them.
Gojo rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. “For god’s sake, stop crying, y/n. Such a damn crybaby.”
“But you’re being so mean,” you whimpered, wiping at your damp cheeks. “I told you I was sleeping…”
He let out a long groan, dragging a hand down his face. “Ughhh, fine. Just go get changed already.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation. Gojo pushed past you like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. He gave you the apartment just so you’d have somewhere nice to live. No bills, no worries, just you waiting for him whenever he felt like blowing some load.
Win-win, he'd say. You got to live for free and spoiled, and he got a pretty dumb thing all to himself waiting for him.
He dropped onto the couch, legs spread wide, scrolling through his phone while you disappeared into the bedroom. A few minutes later the door clicked open again.
Gojo looked up slowly… and good heavens.
There you were, standing in the doorway in that white kitten fur bikini set he’d picked out himself. Tiny top barely holding your tits, bottoms sitting low on your hips, soft white kitty ears perched on your head and a matching tail swishing behind you with every nervous step. The tiny pink accents here and there made the whole thing look so cute and slutty at the same time.
Exactly what he wanted. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, the earlier anger melting into something hotter and darker.
In his defense, when he said he was coming over, that should've been enough. It always meant the same thing: drop whatever the fuck you’re doing and get ready for him. Pick the most scandalous set you own from all those slutty lingeries, barely-there scraps of fabric he’s filled your closet with. Each one worse (or better, depending how you look at it) than the last.
At this point you’ve got more of this shit than normal clothes, but isn’t that exactly how it’s supposed to be anyway?
He’s the man here. He protects you, provides for you, takes care of everything. All you gotta do is listen, do what he says, wear what he wants.
Your primary fucking job is to welcome him home like this. Dolled up in the little slutty set that makes his blood rush straight to his dick the second he walks through the door. So that he doesn’t just “want” to fuck you… he needs to.
He leaned back further into the couch, watching you walk over with a hungry stare, eyes dragging slow from your ears down to the soft sway of your hips and that ridiculous little tail.
Couldn't even blame himself for the way his cock jumped hard in his pants on the sight. Your tits looked so fucking soft and heavy in that tiny top, thin straps fighting for dear life just to keep them squeezed together. They bounced just right with every shy little step you took, enough to make any man with a dick bust a huge load of nut in his pants like a loser.
Yeah… he’d molded you into a perfect little slut.
You weren’t always like this, though. You swear you weren’t.
Just a clueless first-year wandering around campus, still trying to figure out where the hell the library was. That’s how you ended up pushing open the wrong classroom door at the exact wrong moment.
Satoru Gojo, the biggest asshole the campus had ever seen—pants half-down, sweet-talking some poor girl he’d spent days manipulating.
The girl’s eyes went wide when she saw you. She squeaked, yanked her skirt down, and bolted straight past you like her life depended on it.
You’d just stood there, blinking and mumbling, “Oh sorry—sorry, my bad,” before trying to close the door again.
Too fuckin' late.
Gojo had been furious. Anyone would be, right?
All that effort wasted because some dumb girl wandered in and decided to cockblock him. He’d cornered you in the empty hallway before you could even run, towering over you while you pouted and sniffled like a scared kitten.
The more you cried and stammered apologies, the harder he got. Something in that pretty, teary face flipped a switch in him. He made the decision right then and there: new prey acquired.
He eyed you up and down like fresh meat, that sharp instinct of his kicking in immediately. Because Satoru Gojo could smell virgins from a mile away. Something about the way their eyes went all wide and clueless. He saw it in you the second you walked in on him. Not a single fuckin' thought behind those pretty eyes.
He couldn’t believe his luck, honestly. Just when he thought one had slipped away from him, another one showed up. Even better, even dumber, practically offering herself up on a silver platter right in front of him. And the cherry on top? this one looked like she’d be so much easier.
“Ever been fucked?”
You blinked fast. Yup, you heard that right. First guy you ever meet on this campus and that’s his opener. No hi, no what’s your name, no you’re pretty. Straight to business.
“W—what??”
“I said…” his hand shot out, grabbing your waist hard enough to bruise as the other slid down under your skirt without any hesitation. Long fingers crawled up your thighs, rubbing slow rough circles right over your crotch through your panties. He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “Has a cock been in this hole?”
You shook your head, slow and shaky.
“Words.”
“N-nooo…”
“Mhmm. Jackpot.”
Before you could even process it, he had your wrist in a vice grip, dragging you straight to his car like you were already his. One thing led to another and yeah, he kinda took your virginity the same night.
But hey, he was supposed to get laid and you ruined it for him. Isn't it your responsibility to fix it now?
Well, it's not like you were exactly complaining, even if you were scared shitless at first. The man had a tongue like a demon. He ate your little cunt for over an hour. Sucking, licking, kissing every inch until you were leaking wet and loose enough for his monster cock to finally push in. He stretched you open so good you saw stars, crying and shaking the whole time while he laughed low in your ear and told you to take it like a good girl.
And that was just the beginning.
He fucked you the next day. And the day after. And on most days, if not every damn day after that. Turned you into his personal cocksleeve who waited in the apartment he got you just so he could have easy access whenever he got bored or pissed off.
That’s how you met Satoru Gojo.
And that’s exactly how you ended up on his lap right now, dressed like a kitty whore while he squeezed your tits and smirked up at you with the same hungry look he had back then.
“Come on, baby… what’s with the face, hmm?” he asked, rocking his hips slow under you so your pretty body moved with every lazy thrust.
You kept pouting, sniffling like a spoiled brat. “Why did you shout at me…”
“Hmm, sorry baby, my bad… I was pissed, yeah?” his fingers tugged the fur cups of your bikini top down hard, letting your fat tits spill out and bounce free. He squeezed them immediately, thumbs flicking over your nipples.
“But what did I dooo…” you whined again, curling your fingers tight into his sleeves.
This fucking bitch. All he wanted was to blow off some steam after that shitty game by pumping you full of cum, and now he had to babysit a crybaby.
Whatever. Pussy was pussy.
He faked a sweet smile and leaned in, kissing your lips soft. “Not at you, silly. How could I be mad at you?”
“You’re such a liar… you were definitely mad at me…”
The tears started pouring again in broken little sobs, even while you kept grinding your soaked cunt carefully over his bulge.
Satoru’s left eye twitched. His big hands groped your tits harder, squeezing the soft heavy flesh. He likes to call them cow titties because they were so fucking big and he says it's useless and not pretty enough to look at, only good for using like cocksleeves. He’d never admit they looked goddamn perfect on you. He gave them another rough squeeze, face turning mean enough to shut you up.
“Anything to say?” he growled, grabbing two handfuls of your ass and spreading you wide. Your clit smashed right against his rock-hard cock through the fabric.
“Toruuu—nghhh, right there…” you moaned loud, starting to bounce on him with a vision now, tits flopping left and right with every desperate jump.
“How many fuckin' times do I gotta tell you to quit acting like a damn slut, huh?” he slapped your ass hard, the sharp crack making you squeak.
“I'm sorry Toru… please… wan’ it…”
“Oh yeah?” his hands locked on your hips and started bouncing you faster, helping you rub your pussy up and down his bulge. “Want what, baby?”
“Mmm… want you… to put it in… in me… please…”
Satoru threw his head back and laughed, loud and mean. Truth be told, he wasn’t even into girls like this. He liked them scared and shy, the kind who never asked for shit so he could take his sweet time breaking them. You used to be exactly like that too… until he trained you to be a house slut. His fault, really.
“Toruuu…” you called out again, still bouncing on him so eagerly, tits jiggling everywhere. “Please…”
“That so?” he suddenly stopped you, gripping your hips hard and grinding you down tight against his cock. “Do it yourself then.”
Your eyes lit up like he’d just handed you the moon. You quickly slid your bikini bottoms to the side, yanked his boxers down, and his thick cock sprang up, slapping heavy and hot right against your bare pussy.
“Owww…”
“Aww, he’s mean, huh?” he mocked, grinning at you.
You pouted but wrapped your shaky hand around that burning meat, thick veins pulsing under your fingers. You positioned the fat head right between your soaked folds and started rubbing him against your clit. The groan he let out was so loud you almost thought he came already.
“C’mere, fuckin’ god…” he pulled you flush against his chest, arms wrapping you up tight, your legs locking around his waist. His cock trapped between your leaking pussy lips, sliding messy through all that slick.
“Toruu…”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He started snapping his hips fast, humping your wet folds, fat head catching on your hole every thrust. Your lewd moans right in his ear made him leak precum like a faucet.
“Mmm Toru… ahhh please… too much… nghh…”
You were clinging to him for dear life, nails digging in while he humped your sloppy pussy like an animal. With one loud cry you came hard all over him, gushing wet and nasty. He followed right after, painting your pussy and inner thighs in thick white streaks of cum.
“Fuckin’ nasty…” he grinned down at your fucked-out face, surprised you looked this gone just from humping. He hadn’t even put it in. He had other plans, though.
“Get off,” he said, eyes turning cold in a heartbeat.
“Hmm? but whyy??” you blinked at the sudden switch.
“I said get off me.”
You obeyed, sliding off slow and shaky. He wiped his cock clean and buckled up, grabbing his jacket like he was done with you.
“But Toruu… we…”
“Didn’t fuck? yeah. Ain’t gonna do it. Gonna go find some other bitches.” He shrugged, pulling his jacket on.
“Toru nooo— what, please I’m sorry—”
At this point you didn’t even know what you were sorry for.
“Please Toru…” Tears started streaming down your face. “Don’t leave… please, I beg you...”
He ignored you completely, walking out and slamming the door behind him leaving you as you dropped on the floor half naked, sobbing loud, wondering what the fuck you did wrong and how hard you’d have to try just so he wouldn’t go fuck other girls.
Outside, Gojo walked to his car with a big shit eating grin.
There weren’t any other bitches. Hadn’t been since the day he met you. But you didn’t need to know that. Did you?
He wanted you right there. Desperate, messy, crying on the floor, his pretty little crybaby. Trying so hard to please him, head full of him. Because, as far as Gojo was concerned, that was exactly where you belonged.
Okay... keeping up with the taglists for every single fic is getting way harder than i thought 😭. So from now on I'm putting a limit on how many people can be on each fic taglist.
Rules !!
1. Taglist form is closed. Comment below for tags with the fic name.
2. DO NOT sign up twice for the same fic taglist. If I find the same username twice on a taglist, I'll remove both entries. Please check the taglists below first to see if you're already on them.
3. Have your age in your bio or I'll assume you're underage and block you.
4. Every taglist has a limit. Once it's full, I'll close that taglist and won't take any more tags.
5. Make sure your blog allows mentions from everyone. If your mentions are set to following/mutuals only, then please follow @jinjootags - since that's the blog I'll be using to post tag notifications.
6. I'll be cleaning up the taglists every few months to remove deactivated accounts and free up spots for new people.
small note : sorry if this sounds a little rude 😭 it's genuinely so time-consuming keeping all these taglists updated. I literally spent 2 hours cleaning them up today... meanwhile all my fics are just sitting untouched in my drafts LMAO.
so please help me out by following the rules 🫶🏻 it'll make things a lot easier for both of us.
synopsis : you kept your head down, kept your mouth shut, tried to act like nothing was wrong. but it was. and when they found out.. yeah. let’s just say... no one's laying a hand on you again.
read the main series here
The past few days had been hell.
You’d never really hated college before. But now, the thought of walking onto that campus made your stomach twist. And it wasn’t even because of classes or exams or bad grades. It was them.
It had started when you spoke up.
Your friend had been crying in the bathroom, shaking and barely able to speak. She told you everything, how this guy kept showing up near her department, watching her, following her home, brushing too close when no one was around. She was terrified. So you did what any decent person would. You told someone. A faculty member.
And for a few days, it actually worked.
The guy stopped coming around. Your friend smiled again. There was finally peace.
Then it started again. Only this time… the victim wasn’t her.
You noticed them the first time in the canteen. Three guys. Older, probably seniors. Not in your year, that you know. Not in your department, either. You didn’t know their names, but they knew yours. Could tell by the way they looked at you. Like they already had plans.
At first, you convinced yourself it was a coincidence. And that you were just being paranoid.
But the next day, they were there again.
Library. Canteen. Washroom corridor.
Every time you left a class, one of them was lurking just far enough not to cause a scene, but close enough to see you notice.
They didn’t touch you. Didn’t say anything either. Didn’t need to. Their eyes did enough damage. Undressing you, studying you, daring you to look away.
You never walked alone after that.
You made sure a friend was with you everywhere. You kept your head down. Told yourself it was fine. They weren’t going to do anything, anyways. Just scare you, maybe. You could handle it.
You thought about telling them.
But you knew what Toji would do. Didn't wanna make Nanami and Suguru worry. And Satoru? He’d make a scene. A loud and violent, public scene. You didn’t want that. You can handle it. You definitely can handle it.
God. How wrong you were.
***
You didn’t think much of it, honestly.
The friend who usually walked with you to the bus stop had left early. It was just a short walk. That too in broad daylight. The bus stop was usually crowded by this time. What could even happen? It’s fine, you told yourself.
But the second you turned the corner near the empty alleyway, someone grabbed you. A rough arm clamped tight around your neck, yanking you backward. Your feet stumbled over the pavement, heart slamming against your ribs, a hand over your mouth before you could scream.
“Don’t make a fuckin' sound,” someone hissed into your ear, breath hot and sour against your skin.
You froze in place. There were three of them. They had the same eyes, same smirks and the same stench of control.
One of them laughed low. “You’ve got some guts, girl. Telling on us like that.”
Another chuckled beside him. “What, thought they’d kick us out or something?”
The third stepped in front of you, his face was too close, breath hitting your cheek. “We didn’t even fuck with you, yeah? So why the fuck are you meddling?”
You tried to shake your head, lips trembling against the pressure of his palm. But their eyes were already roaming, scanning your body, undressing you with a look that made bile rise in your throat.
“Oh? Now you’re talking?” he mocked, looking down at you.
Then the first one’s gaze dipped lower, right into your cleavage, his lips curling into a sick grin. “Hm… anyway, you’re a better snack than her.” He let out a slow whistle.
“P-please… let me go…”
Another boy leaned in, tone dripping with arrogance. “So, what’s the deal with you, huh? Saw a few guys dropping you off and picking you up lately. Didn’t look like... family.”
You tried to keep your voice steady. “M-my… my roommates.”
The boy grinned, very much delighted. “Oh? Did you hear that?”
He turned to the second guy, smacking his chest. “She’s "casually" living with some guys.”
The second boy snorted. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Oh yeah. I’m thinking what you’re thinking,” the other replied, voice low and eager.
The third boy stepped closer, his face cruel and grinning. “So… how is it... do you get paid for whoring for them? Or is it just for the rent, slut?”
Your stomach turned at his words. “Mind your words!!”
“Oh?” one of them cooed, lips curling. “Little slut’s gettin angry, yeah?”
“Mind if we join sometime?” another chimed in, eyes filled with hunger. “We got cash too.”
He stepped closer, his hands coming up to boldly cupping and squeezing your breasts. “Damn… would you look at that,” he muttered to the others. “No wonder they keep you like a fucktoy… shit.”
He ignores you completely, “You can take a few more cocks, right? I mean—” his voice trailed off as his hand slid lower, trailing down your body until it reached your crotch.
You squeezed your eyes shut, silently praying it would end quickly. You wanted to raise your arms, shove him away, and run for your dear life, but your body refused to obey. Your hands stayed frozen at your sides, nails digging painfully into your palms from the sheer force of your own grip.
“St… stop. Let me go...”
“I said stop, you fuckers!”
With a surge of desperate strength, you shoved him hard. His body slammed into the opposite wall before he fell to the ground.
SLAP.
Hot pain bloomed across your cheek. Your head snapped to the side, vision blurring from the impact. Your knees buckled, and the arm around your neck tightened.
They laughed at you. Tears started streaming down your cheeks. Their face was blank. Not even a hint of guilt, not a flicker of shame, just amusement at your pain.
“This is your last warning, babe,” one of them sneered at you. “Don’t fuck with us again. And tell your little friend to pick up my calls, yeah?”
Then his hand cupped your face rough, fingers digging into your skin and before you could flinch, he leaned in, pressing a harsh, unwanted kiss to your neck. He inhaled your scent staying there for a bit.
“Mmm… that’s for remembering me when you go home to whore around.”
Then they shoved you against the alley wall like trash. Their laughter echoed behind you as they walked off. Loud and victorious.
You stood there in silence, the air around you thick and suffocating. A deep chill had settled into your bones, leaving you cold and numb, as if you can't escape from the horror of what had just happened. Your legs trembled beneath you, unsteady and weak, while your heart hammered relentlessly against your ribs. The sting on your cheek burned hot where his hand had struck you, the skin pulsing with heat that only deepened the shame twisting inside.
You had no sense of how long you remained frozen in that spot. But eventually, you forced yourself to move. You stumbled toward the bus stop, keeping your head low, arms wrapped around yourself. No one noticed. No one asked.
Just you… and the heavy weight of what just happened.
By the time you reached the apartment, your hands were shaking. You stared at the keypad for a second before fumbling in the code, fingers barely doing what you wanted them to.
It was quiet. No one was home yet. The lights were off, and the silence only made the fear louder.
You didn’t even care to change. Just walked straight to your room and collapsed onto your bed. The blanket felt too cold and too warm at once. Your body curled in tight.
And then you started crying. Small, broken sobs muffled into your pillow, the kind that left your throat raw and your soul wrung out. Eventually, sleep took you. Not because you felt better, but because your body gave up.
The knocking pulled you from sleep.
“Y/n… baby? still sleeping?”
Suguru’s voice, unmistakably. You blinked, blearily glancing at your phone. 7:04 PM.
Shit.
They were all home by now. You sat up slowly, body still heavy and the ache in your cheek had dulled, but you didn’t have to check the mirror to know the bruise was there.
Still… you looked. Great.
The faint imprint of his palm bloomed across your cheek. It wasn't dark yet, but obvious enough. You pulled your collar to check your neck. Luckily, it looked fine, there were no bruises.
“I’m gonna shower,” you called out. “Be out in a bit.”
Suguru hummed his acknowledgment from behind the door and left.
You stepped into the shower and let the water run hot. By the time you came out, the mark was still there. Your fingers hovered over your makeup pouch. You already knew what would happen if they saw.
So you did what you could. Little bit of concealer and powder. Something light but just enough. Just enough to cover the truth.
You stared at yourself in the mirror for a second longer, forcing your expression to settle into something neutral. Then you walked out to the living room.
The TV was playing some music. Satoru was sprawled on the couch, arms wide open the second he saw you.
“Bunnnyyyyyy!” he beamed. “You slept like a log! I missed you! Come ‘ere!”
You felt something soften inside you for the first time all day. Without thinking, you ran to him, crawling into his lap and curling into his chest. His arms locked around you tight, his scent wrapping around your shoulders like a blanket.
“Awww, did you miss me too, bunny?” he cooed, peppering kisses all over your face. “Sooo cute.”
You smiled small and tired.
Then Toji’s voice cut through the room. “Yo. Why the fuck are you wearing makeup at home?”
You hesitated just long enough to rack your brain for the best excuse you could think of. “Uhmm… I didn’t… It’s from morning.”
He narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "Then why's your hair wet? Didn’t you just shower? And your makeup’s still on?”
You didn’t respond to that.
“Lie better, baby.”
“What's going on?” Geto asked from the other end of the couch, his voice was calm, but there was a bite under it.
“No… nothing,” you said, waving it off too fast.
Toji scoffed. “Tch. Come on, just tell us. What you hiding?”
“It's nothing. Really. Let’s just watch TV.”
Gojo tilted your chin gently, studying your face. “But your eyes… they’re red. Bunny, did you cry?”
“Me? No…” you forced a small laugh. “I just slept a lot. Maybe that’s why.”
“Hmm…” Gojo hummed, unconvinced, but he didn’t push you any further.
But Toji definitely did. “You done joking, or gonna tell us what the fuck’s going on?”
“I’m just tired, Toji,” you said, voice a little too thin. “I need some water.”
Before anyone else could speak, you pushed yourself off Satoru’s lap and headed to the kitchen.
Nanami was in the kitchen, quietly stirring something on the stove when you walked in. The smell of dinner spread softly through the space.
He glanced at you briefly, then turned off the burner, reaching for a glass. Without a word, he handed you water and kissed your temple. “You look… tired, baby. Something happened?”
You shook your head quickly. “No… nothing, Nanamin. I swear.”
He didn’t say anything, just looked at you with those calm and steady eyes. The kind of look that meant no bullshit will be tolerated here. And for some reason… that broke you. Your chest crumpled and the tears came hard ugly, messy and unstoppable.
Nanami froze, startled at the sight before him.
“Hey—hey, sweetheart…” he whispered, setting the glass down to pull you into his arms. “What’s wrong? Don’t cry, love… please.”
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, sobbing into his shirt, tears soaking the fabric near his heart. He held you with both hands, stroking your hair gently, letting you fall apart in the safety of his embrace.
“Please,” he murmured, his voice low and pained. “Tell me what’s bothering you, baby. I can’t know otherwise, right, love?”
You couldn’t answer. Just more tears. Your entire body shaking with it.
Nanami exhaled through his nose. “Alright,” he whispered. “Come on—you’ll tire yourself out. Let’s wash your face.”
He guided you to the sink, running the tap, cupping water in his hands to gently splash your cheeks, then wiping it with a towel.
And that’s when he saw it.
His movements stopped completely. The warm touch left your skin, the silence thickening in the air.
“Y/n,” he said in a strange voice. “What’s this?”
Panic seized your chest. You instinctively tried to turn, to run away from him, but the moment you spun around, you collided into a wall of muscle at the kitchen doorway.
Toji's hand caught your wrist tight. “Yo. Where you running off—”
The rest of his sentence never came. His gaze caught on your face and then dropped to the bruise Nanami had so carelessly exposed.
“The fuck is that on your face, Y/n?”
The question came out far louder than he meant it to, sharp enough to fill the entire apartment. Gojo and Geto came rushing in from the living room at full speed, faces alert, instantly reacting to Toji’s tone.
“What happened?” Gojo called out, voice laced with panic. “What's going on?”
“Is she hurt?” Geto's voice cut in.
Your heart dropped straight into your stomach.
Fuck.
No more hiding it now. It was too late.
“Mind telling us what the fuck is wrong, Y/n?” Toji’s voice was sharp and boiling over, all fire.
“Toji,” Nanami said sternly, “Don’t. She’s already scared, poor thing.”
Toji’s jaw visibly clenched. “I fuckin' asked her a million times. And she didn’t fuckin’ tell me.” His hand was still holding your wrist, his grip on you tighter than ever.
“I understand,” Nanami said, steady and commanding. “Just shut up for now and let her speak.”
“Come on, baby,” Geto murmured from behind you. “Who hurt you?”
You looked up at him. His voice was soft, but his face unreadable and still.
Gojo hadn’t said a word yet. But when you glanced over… His fists were clenched white. Knuckles bone-tight. His face was blank, eyes sharp and glassy, staring holes into the wall like he was barely holding himself together.
You swallowed hard, preparing yourself. And then you spoke. The words came out broken, cracked between hiccuped sobs, voice barely more than a whisper. You told them everything. About them. About what happened. About what they did. Then… you told them about today.
Your voice was shaking while you continued. “They… threatened me..… t-touched me, and they hit me, and said…” you swallowed the bile rising in your throat. “S-said horrible… things.…about me living here.....”
You looked down, eyes burning like hell, the tears dripping freely. “I didn’t… know what to do. I w-was scared. I didn’t want you to be mad. I—I’m sorry…”
For a long moment, the apartment was silent, just the sound of your breathing, sharp and broken.
Then Toji let go of your wrist, his hands curling into fists at his sides, shoulders tensed like a beast about to lunge.
“Where.” His voice was low, trembling with restraint. “Where are those fuckers.”
Nanami stepped beside you instantly, arm wrapping around your shoulders, holding you with the calmness of someone barely containing his own fury. He kissed your temple again. “You did nothing wrong, love. You were brave.”
You'd be lying if you said you didn't notice the way his jaw clenched like stone. His expression stayed unreadable, but his eyes had turned cold.
“Give me names,” he said.
Geto was the quietest. He pulled you toward him gently, cradling your face. His thumb brushed over the fading concealer on your cheek, exposing the bruise beneath. His eyes didn’t blink. “They touched you?”
You nodded, barely.
He exhaled through his nose. “I see.” And just like that, he turned to them. “Gonna need a few addresses.”
Satoru didn’t speak for a long time. He walked up to you slowly, like he was in a trance, then dropped to his knees in front of you. Hands reaching up to cradle your thighs, your hips, his forehead resting against your stomach. You could feel how his shoulders were shaking.
When he finally looked up, his voice was hoarse. “I let this happen.”
“No—no, Toruu, you didn’t—”
“I let this happen,” he repeated, eyes shining but sharp. “I wasn’t there.... I wasn't fuckin' there to protect you...”
You could see how his breathing getting heavier, his grin gone. His gaze had that strange glint you’d only seen once, and it had scared even Toji.
“They’re dead,” he said. “They’re fuckin' dead.”
“Do you know something about them, love?” Nanami’s voice was quiet. Careful.
“I… I don’t know much,” you mumbled, wiping your face with trembling fingers. “They’re seniors… and… I think they live in the college dorms. I’m not sure.”
Geto moved closer, bending down just slightly in front of you to face you. “How do they look?”
“One of them had bleached hair. Really tall. He’s got an ear piercing.” Your hand instinctively reached up, fingers brushing over your sore cheek. “He’s the one who…”
You didn’t even finish the sentence.
Toji’s voice snapped across the air like a whip. “Why the hell would you keep something like this to yourself?”
His tone wasn’t just angry. It was hurt, like your silence had punched him in the gut.
“Toji, That’s not— I was just… please understand—”
“What else, huh?” he growled, stepping forward, fury rolling off him in waves. “Think I’m a scaredy cat to slice some boys up? trust me… I’ve done more than that.”
“Toji,” Geto interrupted, calm but sharp, “let’s not scare her.”
But before either of them could say more, Satoru suddenly stood like something had snapped inside him. He didn’t say anything. Walked straight to the counter, snatched the car keys, and tossed them at Toji.
“Toji,” he said with a flat voice. “Take the car.”
Toji caught it midair with a dark grin. “Finally.”
Then he was gone, slipping out the door with a low curse under his breath. Gojo followed right behind him, not even sparing a word, his steps too calm to be safe. Nanami reached upto you and gently pulled your head into his chest again.
Geto stood there for another second, watching the two of them disappear out of his sight.
Nanami finally looked up at him. “Go with them,” he said flatly. “Or those two are gonna end up in a fuckin' jail cell.”
Geto let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “...Yeah. Yeah, alright.”
Without another word, he headed for the door. Then it clicked shut behind him. Leaving just you and Nanami.
The apartment suddenly felt a whole lot quieter, and your knees buckled a little from exhaustion.
Nanami sat with you on the couch, pulling you into his lap, tucking your head under his chin. His fingers found your hair, gentle and slow, stroking through the strands like a lullaby.
“It’s okay, love,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. They’re not gonna hurt you again.”
You sniffled again, hands gripping his shirt, your face still warm from crying.
“Just breathe,” he whispered softly in your ear. “I’ve got you.”
And you did.
***
Somewhere amidst the warmth of Nanami’s hand in your hair, you must’ve fallen asleep again. When you stirred awake, the apartment was dark and quiet. The low flicker of the TV still on. Your eyes blinked open slowly, and you shifted slightly.
Satoru was curled up at your feet, arms wrapped around your calves, face buried in the hem of your blanket.
“T—toru?” you whispered, voice still a little hoarse.
He stirred instantly, blinking up at you, eyes puffy with sleep. And… there was a bandage across his nose.
Your stomach dropped in an instant. “D-did they… did they hit you?”
“Not them, bunny,” he grumbled, groaning as he sat up and glared across the room. “This was Toji fuckin’ Fushiguro.”
Your head snapped up. “What?”
Toji, sprawled across the other end of the couch, let out a dismissive scoff. “Oii, ain't like I meant to hit him,” he grunted. “Should've kept his ass outta my swing.”
“Fuck you, Toji,” Gojo shot back.
“Guys…” you said, voice a little too weak. “What did you all do?”
Geto who was leaning lazily on the armrest, gave you a soft smile. “It’s fine, baby. We took care of it, okay?”
He stood, walking over to you and brushing your hair from your face. “Take a day off tomorrow. I’ll stay with you. Keep you company, alright?”
Gojo immediately perked up. “What?! I’m staying home too! I wanna be with bunny!”
Toji rolled his eyes at him. “Stop using her as an excuse to skip work, you lazy ass.”
“Ahh, look who’s talking,” Gojo said, stretching his arms dramatically.
Gojo pouted softly, then turned to you, blinking up with wide, shimmering eyes. “Bunnnny… can I sleep with you tonight? Just wanna make sure you’re okay. Please? please? please? pretty please?”
You smiled for the first time in what felt like forever and then gave him a small nod.
Gojo lit up immediately, the worry melting off his face as he shuffled closer and wrapped both arms around your waist, practically clinging to you while you leaned into him without a second thought.
You didn't go to college the next day.
Or the one after that.
By the time the weekend came and went, you finally convinced yourself it was okay to go back.
Even then, your hands wouldn't stop trembling as you walked through the campus gates on monday morning. You caught yourself glancing over your shoulder every few minutes. Every unfamiliar voice made your chest tighten. Every group of people had you looking twice.
But... Nothing.
No one waiting outside your lecture hall. No eyes following you through the canteen. No footsteps behind you in the library. Not even a glimpse of them.
You almost started believing it was over.... until that evening.
You were leaving campus, bag slung over your shoulder, phone in hand. The sky was pink and fading into purple.
And then he appeared. The tall one. With the piercings bleached hair.
He was standing a few steps away from the college gate. The moment you noticed him, you stopped. His head stayed lowered the entire time, like he couldn't even bring himself to meet your eyes.
He looked... awful.
One arm hung in a sling. His lip was split. One eye was swollen nearly shut, purple bruises blooming across what little skin you could still see.
“S-sorry...” he swallowed hard, still refusing to look up.
“W-won't do it again,” he stammered. “I swear... j-just... please... tell them... tell them I said sorry.”
Silence stretched between the two of you. You didn't answer him. After a long moment, you gave the smallest nod before turning around and walking away.
Somehow... your steps felt just a little lighter this time. Now your heart wasn’t racing with fear anymore. It was steady.
Because you knew you were safe. Because you had them.
synopsis : you kept your head down, kept your mouth shut, tried to act like nothing was wrong. but it was. and when they found out.. yeah. let’s just say... no one's laying a hand on you again.
read the main series here
The past few days had been hell.
You’d never really hated college before. But now, the thought of walking onto that campus made your stomach twist. And it wasn’t even because of classes or exams or bad grades. It was them.
It had started when you spoke up.
Your friend had been crying in the bathroom, shaking and barely able to speak. She told you everything, how this guy kept showing up near her department, watching her, following her home, brushing too close when no one was around. She was terrified. So you did what any decent person would. You told someone. A faculty member.
And for a few days, it actually worked.
The guy stopped coming around. Your friend smiled again. There was finally peace.
Then it started again. Only this time… the victim wasn’t her.
You noticed them the first time in the canteen. Three guys. Older, probably seniors. Not in your year, that you know. Not in your department, either. You didn’t know their names, but they knew yours. Could tell by the way they looked at you. Like they already had plans.
At first, you convinced yourself it was a coincidence. And that you were just being paranoid.
But the next day, they were there again.
Library. Canteen. Washroom corridor.
Every time you left a class, one of them was lurking just far enough not to cause a scene, but close enough to see you notice.
They didn’t touch you. Didn’t say anything either. Didn’t need to. Their eyes did enough damage. Undressing you, studying you, daring you to look away.
You never walked alone after that.
You made sure a friend was with you everywhere. You kept your head down. Told yourself it was fine. They weren’t going to do anything, anyways. Just scare you, maybe. You could handle it.
You thought about telling them.
But you knew what Toji would do. Didn't wanna make Nanami and Suguru worry. And Satoru? He’d make a scene. A loud and violent, public scene. You didn’t want that. You can handle it. You definitely can handle it.
God. How wrong you were.
***
You didn’t think much of it, honestly.
The friend who usually walked with you to the bus stop had left early. It was just a short walk. That too in broad daylight. The bus stop was usually crowded by this time. What could even happen? It’s fine, you told yourself.
But the second you turned the corner near the empty alleyway, someone grabbed you. A rough arm clamped tight around your neck, yanking you backward. Your feet stumbled over the pavement, heart slamming against your ribs, a hand over your mouth before you could scream.
“Don’t make a fuckin' sound,” someone hissed into your ear, breath hot and sour against your skin.
You froze in place. There were three of them. They had the same eyes, same smirks and the same stench of control.
One of them laughed low. “You’ve got some guts, girl. Telling on us like that.”
Another chuckled beside him. “What, thought they’d kick us out or something?”
The third stepped in front of you, his face was too close, breath hitting your cheek. “We didn’t even fuck with you, yeah? So why the fuck are you meddling?”
You tried to shake your head, lips trembling against the pressure of his palm. But their eyes were already roaming, scanning your body, undressing you with a look that made bile rise in your throat.
“Oh? Now you’re talking?” he mocked, looking down at you.
Then the first one’s gaze dipped lower, right into your cleavage, his lips curling into a sick grin. “Hm… anyway, you’re a better snack than her.” He let out a slow whistle.
“P-please… let me go…”
Another boy leaned in, tone dripping with arrogance. “So, what’s the deal with you, huh? Saw a few guys dropping you off and picking you up lately. Didn’t look like... family.”
You tried to keep your voice steady. “M-my… my roommates.”
The boy grinned, very much delighted. “Oh? Did you hear that?”
He turned to the second guy, smacking his chest. “She’s "casually" living with some guys.”
The second boy snorted. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Oh yeah. I’m thinking what you’re thinking,” the other replied, voice low and eager.
The third boy stepped closer, his face cruel and grinning. “So… how is it... do you get paid for whoring for them? Or is it just for the rent, slut?”
Your stomach turned at his words. “Mind your words!!”
“Oh?” one of them cooed, lips curling. “Little slut’s gettin angry, yeah?”
“Mind if we join sometime?” another chimed in, eyes filled with hunger. “We got cash too.”
He stepped closer, his hands coming up to boldly cupping and squeezing your breasts. “Damn… would you look at that,” he muttered to the others. “No wonder they keep you like a fucktoy… shit.”
He ignores you completely, “You can take a few more cocks, right? I mean—” his voice trailed off as his hand slid lower, trailing down your body until it reached your crotch.
You squeezed your eyes shut, silently praying it would end quickly. You wanted to raise your arms, shove him away, and run for your dear life, but your body refused to obey. Your hands stayed frozen at your sides, nails digging painfully into your palms from the sheer force of your own grip.
“St… stop. Let me go...”
“I said stop, you fuckers!”
With a surge of desperate strength, you shoved him hard. His body slammed into the opposite wall before he fell to the ground.
SLAP.
Hot pain bloomed across your cheek. Your head snapped to the side, vision blurring from the impact. Your knees buckled, and the arm around your neck tightened.
They laughed at you. Tears started streaming down your cheeks. Their face was blank. Not even a hint of guilt, not a flicker of shame, just amusement at your pain.
“This is your last warning, babe,” one of them sneered at you. “Don’t fuck with us again. And tell your little friend to pick up my calls, yeah?”
Then his hand cupped your face rough, fingers digging into your skin and before you could flinch, he leaned in, pressing a harsh, unwanted kiss to your neck. He inhaled your scent staying there for a bit.
“Mmm… that’s for remembering me when you go home to whore around.”
Then they shoved you against the alley wall like trash. Their laughter echoed behind you as they walked off. Loud and victorious.
You stood there in silence, the air around you thick and suffocating. A deep chill had settled into your bones, leaving you cold and numb, as if you can't escape from the horror of what had just happened. Your legs trembled beneath you, unsteady and weak, while your heart hammered relentlessly against your ribs. The sting on your cheek burned hot where his hand had struck you, the skin pulsing with heat that only deepened the shame twisting inside.
You had no sense of how long you remained frozen in that spot. But eventually, you forced yourself to move. You stumbled toward the bus stop, keeping your head low, arms wrapped around yourself. No one noticed. No one asked.
Just you… and the heavy weight of what just happened.
By the time you reached the apartment, your hands were shaking. You stared at the keypad for a second before fumbling in the code, fingers barely doing what you wanted them to.
It was quiet. No one was home yet. The lights were off, and the silence only made the fear louder.
You didn’t even care to change. Just walked straight to your room and collapsed onto your bed. The blanket felt too cold and too warm at once. Your body curled in tight.
And then you started crying. Small, broken sobs muffled into your pillow, the kind that left your throat raw and your soul wrung out. Eventually, sleep took you. Not because you felt better, but because your body gave up.
The knocking pulled you from sleep.
“Y/n… baby? still sleeping?”
Suguru’s voice, unmistakably. You blinked, blearily glancing at your phone. 7:04 PM.
Shit.
They were all home by now. You sat up slowly, body still heavy and the ache in your cheek had dulled, but you didn’t have to check the mirror to know the bruise was there.
Still… you looked. Great.
The faint imprint of his palm bloomed across your cheek. It wasn't dark yet, but obvious enough. You pulled your collar to check your neck. Luckily, it looked fine, there were no bruises.
“I’m gonna shower,” you called out. “Be out in a bit.”
Suguru hummed his acknowledgment from behind the door and left.
You stepped into the shower and let the water run hot. By the time you came out, the mark was still there. Your fingers hovered over your makeup pouch. You already knew what would happen if they saw.
So you did what you could. Little bit of concealer and powder. Something light but just enough. Just enough to cover the truth.
You stared at yourself in the mirror for a second longer, forcing your expression to settle into something neutral. Then you walked out to the living room.
The TV was playing some music. Satoru was sprawled on the couch, arms wide open the second he saw you.
“Bunnnyyyyyy!” he beamed. “You slept like a log! I missed you! Come ‘ere!”
You felt something soften inside you for the first time all day. Without thinking, you ran to him, crawling into his lap and curling into his chest. His arms locked around you tight, his scent wrapping around your shoulders like a blanket.
“Awww, did you miss me too, bunny?” he cooed, peppering kisses all over your face. “Sooo cute.”
You smiled small and tired.
Then Toji’s voice cut through the room. “Yo. Why the fuck are you wearing makeup at home?”
You hesitated just long enough to rack your brain for the best excuse you could think of. “Uhmm… I didn’t… It’s from morning.”
He narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "Then why's your hair wet? Didn’t you just shower? And your makeup’s still on?”
You didn’t respond to that.
“Lie better, baby.”
“What's going on?” Geto asked from the other end of the couch, his voice was calm, but there was a bite under it.
“No… nothing,” you said, waving it off too fast.
Toji scoffed. “Tch. Come on, just tell us. What you hiding?”
“It's nothing. Really. Let’s just watch TV.”
Gojo tilted your chin gently, studying your face. “But your eyes… they’re red. Bunny, did you cry?”
“Me? No…” you forced a small laugh. “I just slept a lot. Maybe that’s why.”
“Hmm…” Gojo hummed, unconvinced, but he didn’t push you any further.
But Toji definitely did. “You done joking, or gonna tell us what the fuck’s going on?”
“I’m just tired, Toji,” you said, voice a little too thin. “I need some water.”
Before anyone else could speak, you pushed yourself off Satoru’s lap and headed to the kitchen.
Nanami was in the kitchen, quietly stirring something on the stove when you walked in. The smell of dinner spread softly through the space.
He glanced at you briefly, then turned off the burner, reaching for a glass. Without a word, he handed you water and kissed your temple. “You look… tired, baby. Something happened?”
You shook your head quickly. “No… nothing, Nanamin. I swear.”
He didn’t say anything, just looked at you with those calm and steady eyes. The kind of look that meant no bullshit will be tolerated here. And for some reason… that broke you. Your chest crumpled and the tears came hard ugly, messy and unstoppable.
Nanami froze, startled at the sight before him.
“Hey—hey, sweetheart…” he whispered, setting the glass down to pull you into his arms. “What’s wrong? Don’t cry, love… please.”
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, sobbing into his shirt, tears soaking the fabric near his heart. He held you with both hands, stroking your hair gently, letting you fall apart in the safety of his embrace.
“Please,” he murmured, his voice low and pained. “Tell me what’s bothering you, baby. I can’t know otherwise, right, love?”
You couldn’t answer. Just more tears. Your entire body shaking with it.
Nanami exhaled through his nose. “Alright,” he whispered. “Come on—you’ll tire yourself out. Let’s wash your face.”
He guided you to the sink, running the tap, cupping water in his hands to gently splash your cheeks, then wiping it with a towel.
And that’s when he saw it.
His movements stopped completely. The warm touch left your skin, the silence thickening in the air.
“Y/n,” he said in a strange voice. “What’s this?”
Panic seized your chest. You instinctively tried to turn, to run away from him, but the moment you spun around, you collided into a wall of muscle at the kitchen doorway.
Toji's hand caught your wrist tight. “Yo. Where you running off—”
The rest of his sentence never came. His gaze caught on your face and then dropped to the bruise Nanami had so carelessly exposed.
“The fuck is that on your face, Y/n?”
The question came out far louder than he meant it to, sharp enough to fill the entire apartment. Gojo and Geto came rushing in from the living room at full speed, faces alert, instantly reacting to Toji’s tone.
“What happened?” Gojo called out, voice laced with panic. “What's going on?”
“Is she hurt?” Geto's voice cut in.
Your heart dropped straight into your stomach.
Fuck.
No more hiding it now. It was too late.
“Mind telling us what the fuck is wrong, Y/n?” Toji’s voice was sharp and boiling over, all fire.
“Toji,” Nanami said sternly, “Don’t. She’s already scared, poor thing.”
Toji’s jaw visibly clenched. “I fuckin' asked her a million times. And she didn’t fuckin’ tell me.” His hand was still holding your wrist, his grip on you tighter than ever.
“I understand,” Nanami said, steady and commanding. “Just shut up for now and let her speak.”
“Come on, baby,” Geto murmured from behind you. “Who hurt you?”
You looked up at him. His voice was soft, but his face unreadable and still.
Gojo hadn’t said a word yet. But when you glanced over… His fists were clenched white. Knuckles bone-tight. His face was blank, eyes sharp and glassy, staring holes into the wall like he was barely holding himself together.
You swallowed hard, preparing yourself. And then you spoke. The words came out broken, cracked between hiccuped sobs, voice barely more than a whisper. You told them everything. About them. About what happened. About what they did. Then… you told them about today.
Your voice was shaking while you continued. “They… threatened me..… t-touched me, and they hit me, and said…” you swallowed the bile rising in your throat. “S-said horrible… things.…about me living here.....”
You looked down, eyes burning like hell, the tears dripping freely. “I didn’t… know what to do. I w-was scared. I didn’t want you to be mad. I—I’m sorry…”
For a long moment, the apartment was silent, just the sound of your breathing, sharp and broken.
Then Toji let go of your wrist, his hands curling into fists at his sides, shoulders tensed like a beast about to lunge.
“Where.” His voice was low, trembling with restraint. “Where are those fuckers.”
Nanami stepped beside you instantly, arm wrapping around your shoulders, holding you with the calmness of someone barely containing his own fury. He kissed your temple again. “You did nothing wrong, love. You were brave.”
You'd be lying if you said you didn't notice the way his jaw clenched like stone. His expression stayed unreadable, but his eyes had turned cold.
“Give me names,” he said.
Geto was the quietest. He pulled you toward him gently, cradling your face. His thumb brushed over the fading concealer on your cheek, exposing the bruise beneath. His eyes didn’t blink. “They touched you?”
You nodded, barely.
He exhaled through his nose. “I see.” And just like that, he turned to them. “Gonna need a few addresses.”
Satoru didn’t speak for a long time. He walked up to you slowly, like he was in a trance, then dropped to his knees in front of you. Hands reaching up to cradle your thighs, your hips, his forehead resting against your stomach. You could feel how his shoulders were shaking.
When he finally looked up, his voice was hoarse. “I let this happen.”
“No—no, Toruu, you didn’t—”
“I let this happen,” he repeated, eyes shining but sharp. “I wasn’t there.... I wasn't fuckin' there to protect you...”
You could see how his breathing getting heavier, his grin gone. His gaze had that strange glint you’d only seen once, and it had scared even Toji.
“They’re dead,” he said. “They’re fuckin' dead.”
“Do you know something about them, love?” Nanami’s voice was quiet. Careful.
“I… I don’t know much,” you mumbled, wiping your face with trembling fingers. “They’re seniors… and… I think they live in the college dorms. I’m not sure.”
Geto moved closer, bending down just slightly in front of you to face you. “How do they look?”
“One of them had bleached hair. Really tall. He’s got an ear piercing.” Your hand instinctively reached up, fingers brushing over your sore cheek. “He’s the one who…”
You didn’t even finish the sentence.
Toji’s voice snapped across the air like a whip. “Why the hell would you keep something like this to yourself?”
His tone wasn’t just angry. It was hurt, like your silence had punched him in the gut.
“Toji, That’s not— I was just… please understand—”
“What else, huh?” he growled, stepping forward, fury rolling off him in waves. “Think I’m a scaredy cat to slice some boys up? trust me… I’ve done more than that.”
“Toji,” Geto interrupted, calm but sharp, “let’s not scare her.”
But before either of them could say more, Satoru suddenly stood like something had snapped inside him. He didn’t say anything. Walked straight to the counter, snatched the car keys, and tossed them at Toji.
“Toji,” he said with a flat voice. “Take the car.”
Toji caught it midair with a dark grin. “Finally.”
Then he was gone, slipping out the door with a low curse under his breath. Gojo followed right behind him, not even sparing a word, his steps too calm to be safe. Nanami reached upto you and gently pulled your head into his chest again.
Geto stood there for another second, watching the two of them disappear out of his sight.
Nanami finally looked up at him. “Go with them,” he said flatly. “Or those two are gonna end up in a fuckin' jail cell.”
Geto let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “...Yeah. Yeah, alright.”
Without another word, he headed for the door. Then it clicked shut behind him. Leaving just you and Nanami.
The apartment suddenly felt a whole lot quieter, and your knees buckled a little from exhaustion.
Nanami sat with you on the couch, pulling you into his lap, tucking your head under his chin. His fingers found your hair, gentle and slow, stroking through the strands like a lullaby.
“It’s okay, love,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. They’re not gonna hurt you again.”
You sniffled again, hands gripping his shirt, your face still warm from crying.
“Just breathe,” he whispered softly in your ear. “I’ve got you.”
And you did.
***
Somewhere amidst the warmth of Nanami’s hand in your hair, you must’ve fallen asleep again. When you stirred awake, the apartment was dark and quiet. The low flicker of the TV still on. Your eyes blinked open slowly, and you shifted slightly.
Satoru was curled up at your feet, arms wrapped around your calves, face buried in the hem of your blanket.
“T—toru?” you whispered, voice still a little hoarse.
He stirred instantly, blinking up at you, eyes puffy with sleep. And… there was a bandage across his nose.
Your stomach dropped in an instant. “D-did they… did they hit you?”
“Not them, bunny,” he grumbled, groaning as he sat up and glared across the room. “This was Toji fuckin’ Fushiguro.”
Your head snapped up. “What?”
Toji, sprawled across the other end of the couch, let out a dismissive scoff. “Oii, ain't like I meant to hit him,” he grunted. “Should've kept his ass outta my swing.”
“Fuck you, Toji,” Gojo shot back.
“Guys…” you said, voice a little too weak. “What did you all do?”
Geto who was leaning lazily on the armrest, gave you a soft smile. “It’s fine, baby. We took care of it, okay?”
He stood, walking over to you and brushing your hair from your face. “Take a day off tomorrow. I’ll stay with you. Keep you company, alright?”
Gojo immediately perked up. “What?! I’m staying home too! I wanna be with bunny!”
Toji rolled his eyes at him. “Stop using her as an excuse to skip work, you lazy ass.”
“Ahh, look who’s talking,” Gojo said, stretching his arms dramatically.
Gojo pouted softly, then turned to you, blinking up with wide, shimmering eyes. “Bunnnny… can I sleep with you tonight? Just wanna make sure you’re okay. Please? please? please? pretty please?”
You smiled for the first time in what felt like forever and then gave him a small nod.
Gojo lit up immediately, the worry melting off his face as he shuffled closer and wrapped both arms around your waist, practically clinging to you while you leaned into him without a second thought.
You didn't go to college the next day.
Or the one after that.
By the time the weekend came and went, you finally convinced yourself it was okay to go back.
Even then, your hands wouldn't stop trembling as you walked through the campus gates on monday morning. You caught yourself glancing over your shoulder every few minutes. Every unfamiliar voice made your chest tighten. Every group of people had you looking twice.
But... Nothing.
No one waiting outside your lecture hall. No eyes following you through the canteen. No footsteps behind you in the library. Not even a glimpse of them.
You almost started believing it was over.... until that evening.
You were leaving campus, bag slung over your shoulder, phone in hand. The sky was pink and fading into purple.
And then he appeared. The tall one. With the piercings bleached hair.
He was standing a few steps away from the college gate. The moment you noticed him, you stopped. His head stayed lowered the entire time, like he couldn't even bring himself to meet your eyes.
He looked... awful.
One arm hung in a sling. His lip was split. One eye was swollen nearly shut, purple bruises blooming across what little skin you could still see.
“S-sorry...” he swallowed hard, still refusing to look up.
“W-won't do it again,” he stammered. “I swear... j-just... please... tell them... tell them I said sorry.”
Silence stretched between the two of you. You didn't answer him. After a long moment, you gave the smallest nod before turning around and walking away.
Somehow... your steps felt just a little lighter this time. Now your heart wasn’t racing with fear anymore. It was steady.
Because you knew you were safe. Because you had them.
synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?
content warning: sexual content, breast play, groping, nipple play, possessiveness, dirty talk, flirty banter, jealousy, minor verbal humiliation, oower dynamics involving multiple male characters. mature readers only, mdni, 18+.
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Chapter 18
The next evening.
You were sprawled across the couch when you heard the front door unlock. A second later, familiar footsteps crossed the floor. Nanami was home.
Fresh from work, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows and his tie loosened just enough to suggest he'd had a long day. He looked tired, but not nearly tired enough to stop him from looking put together. The only man in this house who didn’t stomp or yell or throw a jacket over the nearest lamp.
Your eyes followed him automatically as he stepped into the living room. Then they landed on the shopping bag in his hand. A small one. Elegant.
“Oh no,” Gojo muttered from where he was laying across the other end of the couch, lifting his head just enough to squint at the shopping bag. “What's that? And why does it look expensive?”
Toji glanced up from his phone immediately, looking suspicious. “The hell's in there?”
Nanami didn't bother answering either of them. He simply walked in, set the bag down on the coffee table in front of you, and gestured toward it. “Try it.”
The curiosity got the better of you instantly. Inside, nestled neatly on a satin cushion, sat a lipstick. The color was gorgeous. A deep, rich red that practically demanded attention.
“Oh...” you murmured, turning it slightly under the light. “Wow.”
Toji took one look at it and frowned. “That's too dark.”
Gojo, naturally, snatched it from your hands before anyone could stop him. He studied it for all of three seconds before letting out a low whistle.
“Oooh~, she’s gonna eat us alive in this one. Look at that shade.” He looked at Nanami. “Nanami, you dirty dog.”
Geto leaned over from beside him, peering at it. “Mmm. Okay, I get it.”
“Right?” Gojo grinned, his eyes brighter than the damn ceiling lights.
Geto nodded toward the lipstick, a grin spreading across his face. “Mhm. Yeah, that's a good one.” He nodded approvingly. “That’s the kind of red she wears while stepping on necks.”
“She can step on me,” Gojo said without missing a beat.
“Toruuu,” you groaned, trying and failing to hide your smile.
“What?” he asked innocently, scooting closer to you. “I'm just supporting women's rights.”
“That's... not what that means.”
“Women's wrongs, then.”
You burst out into a laugh despite yourself. Gojo looked far too pleased about it, his hand finding your thighs as he leaned against your shoulder.
Across the room, Toji looked like he was rapidly losing patience with the entire conversation.
“Can y'all just shut the fuck up for a second?” he grumbled. “I'm just saying the one I picked would've suited her better.”
There was a brief silence. Then Gojo slowly turned toward him. “Are you for real, mate?”
“Yeah.”
"Brother..." Gojo clasped his hands together, bowing mockingly at Toji. "I have no words. ”
Geto immediately folded over laughing. Even you had to bite down on your lip.
Toji's eye twitched. “Y'all don't know shit.”
“It's okay,” Geto said, patting his shoulder with all the sympathy of a man. “Not everybody can have taste.”
“Exactly,” Gojo agreed. “This is a safe space.”
“Toji,” Geto continued solemnly, “We're all very proud of you.”
“Ahhh, here we go again,” Toji muttered, leaning back with crossed arms. “These punks always team up against me. I could say the sky’s blue and you’d both find a reason to tell me I’m wrong.”
“Because your blue is probably, like, periwinkle purple again,” Gojo shot back, blinking blank at him.
“Periwink—I swear to god I’m gonna shove that lipstick up your—”
“That’s enough,” Nanami cut in smoothly, walking to the kitchen. Not loud neither stern, just enough power in his voice to shut the three of them down instantly.
You quietly slipped off the couch, following him like a moth chasing peace. Not before stopping to give Gojo a kiss on each cheek, of course.
Apparently, he'd miss you too much otherwise. You were going to the kitchen. The kitchen. In the same fuckin' apartment. Which was, at most, ten feet away.
***
The kitchen was quiet. Warm with the low hum of the refrigerator and the scent of evening tea lingering in the air. You stood near the counter, sipping water. Nanami leaned against the doorway to the balcony, with folded arms, eyes fixed on you.
“Do you like it?” he asked softly.
You looked up at him. “Hmm?”
“The lipstick,” he clarified, his voice lower now.
You nodded so quickly it almost made your head spin. “Yes, Nanamin. I love it. It's so pretty.”
The smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth was small, but unmistakably pleased. He pushed away from the doorway and crossed the room, his tall frame swallowing the distance between you in only a few steps. Before you could say anything else, his hands came up to cup your face, tilting your head back just enough for you to meet his gaze.
“Then wear it tonight.”
Your eyes widened. “Tonight?”
“Mhmm.. I'll take you somewhere.”
The words were simple, but the way he said them made your stomach flutter.
You blinked up at him, suddenly feeling excited. “Uhm...” A nervous laugh escaped you. “Like... a date?”
His thumb smoothed along your lower lip. “Exactly. Like a date.”
Heat immediately rushed to your face. A date. Just you and Nanami. The thought alone was enough to make your heart stumble. But then another thought hit you.
“Oh.”
Nanami raised a brow. “Oh?”
“Well...” you shifted your weight awkwardly. “Earlier, Toru said he wanted to go for a drive and—”
“Fuck him.”
The response came so quickly your eyes flew up to his face in shock. Nanami looked equally surprised by his own words. A faint crease appeared between his brows as he cleared his throat.
“I mean,” he corrected smoothly, “Don't mind him. Okay?” he gave your head a fond pat.
You nodded at once, already committed to whatever he'd asked of you. Something about the quiet certainty in his voice made you all warm and safe.
Nanami's hand slid down to squeeze yours gently. “Wear the black dress. The one with the chain.” His gaze lingered on you for a moment. “You know the one.”
You absolutely knew the one.
By the time he stepped back, your face felt hot enough to catch fire. All you could manage was a small nod. “Okay.”
The smile he gave you then was subtle, almost impossible to catch if you weren't looking for it. Then, without another word, his hand slipped around your waist and gently pulled you into him.
He kissed you hard, just long enough to steal the breath out of you. You let out the softest gasp as he deepened it, one hand remaining steady against your hip while the other held you close, grounding you in place.
Then he pulled back from the kiss, forehead brushing yours as his thumb slowly traced the curve of your lower lip, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Such a pretty girl...” he murmured, breath warm against your cheek.
“Go get all dolled up for me,” His gaze never left yours. “You're mine for the night... yeah?”
“Y-yeah... I... I'll go get ready.”
You turned on your heel and hurried toward your room. Heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could still hear it from where he stood, your mind hopelessly tangled around that kiss... and everything it seemed to promise.
***
Warm water cascaded down your body in the shower, steam curling in the air like tendrils. You ran your hands down your skin slowly, thoughts drifting to Nanami.
You stepped out of the shower, skin flushed, heartbeat ticking a little too fast. As you dried off, you applied a soft layer of lotion, the scent of warm vanilla mixing with the subtle perfume you dabbed at your pulse points.
The dress slid on like silk, black, hugging your figure sinfully, the gold chain detail gleaming across your chest. Your eyes met your reflection, subtle but bold makeup, the lipstick Nanami chose painted carefully over your lips like temptation. You slipped on your heels, adjusting the straps as your door creaked open.
“Where you going, my lady?” came Geto’s teasing drawl.
You turned to see him leaning in the doorway, dark eyes raking over you with no attempt at being subtle. He gave a low whistle, running a hand through his hair, a smirk forming on his lips.
“All dolled up,” he muttered, eyes dropping to the hem of your dress. “Shit… look at you.”
You opened your mouth to answer but faltered when he muttered under his breath, one palm already smoothing over the unmistakeable bulge in his sweatpants. “Wanna take you right here.”
You swallowed thick, heart fluttering. “… I’m going out.”
Geto raised an eyebrow. “With who? Satoru again?”
You shook your head quickly. “No… it’s Nanamin.”
That made him pause.
“Oh?” he said, straightening up and stepping closer. His hands slipped into his pockets, but his eyes stayed on your face. “Nanami, huh?”
You shifted under his gaze, but didn’t back away when he stepped into your space, close enough to smell your scent.
Your lips parted in a silent yes. He didn’t waste a second. His palm pressed to the wall just beside your head, caging you in. Hand moving to the neckline of your dress, fingers deft as he tugged it down, slow enough to make you shiver.
“Y'know what you do to me, baby?” he murmured. “Walkin' out like that… tits all bouncing, practically begging to be sucked on. Shit, you’re unfair.”
The fabric slipped lower, baring the soft swell of your chest. Geto groaned low in his throat, and then he was on you, lips hot and shameless as they closed over your nipple. His tongue flicked lazily at first, teasing little swirls, before he sealed his mouth fully around it and sucked deep, low moan vibrating straight through you.
Your head tipped back against the wall with a soft gasp, making your knees wobble. He was relentless, working you over like he wanted to leave his name written on your skin.
“Mmm, so fuckin’ soft,” he breathed against you.
Fingers slipping under the curve of your tits, kneading gently while he sucked deeper. Another groan rumbled through his chest as he lifted his head enough to glance up at you, flushed and panting against the wall.
“You gonna walk out like this?” he whispered. “God, I hope he notices,” a smug grin tugged at his lips. “Maybe he'll figure out someone else got their hands on you before he ever had the chance.”
God, he was being so mean.
Then again... Suguru had always been like that. Such a meanie, yet somehow impossibly sweet at the same time. And his gaze... If there was any man capable of making your head spin with nothing more than a single look, it was Suguru Geto.
“Suguuu...” you whined, pouting down at him as you gave his shoulder a few gentle, half-hearted shoves. “I'm gonna be late...”
He shut you up good by kissing just below your nipple, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the side of your boobs.
“Such a naughty girl,” he said, licking a slow, wet stripe back up to your nipple before taking it in his mouth again. “But lucky for you, I’ve always had a thing for bad girls.”
He sucked once hard and the soft pop of his lips leaving your skin echoed in the room . Your chest heaved, nipple now swollen and glistening with his spit, a faint bruise already forming where he’d marked you. He looked at it with a tilted head, really proud of it, then leaned in just once more to plant a soft, almost sweet kiss over the sore spot.
“There,” he licked his lips lazily. “A little something to keep me in your head.”
You were breathless with parted lips, the heat between your legs already building.
“Go give him a good night, honey. But don’t forget who got the first taste.”
***
You stepped out of your room, heels clicking softly on the floor as you walked toward the living room, heart thumping beneath the tight hug of your dress.
Geto had disappeared into his room like nothing had happened, though your flushed cheeks and slightly crooked neckline told a different story. And the moment you entered the room, the temperature dropped and spiked all at once.
Gojo’s head turned first, followed by Toji’s. Both lounged on the couch like kings in their respective thrones. Gojo blinked. Once, then twice. Then tilted his head.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered, sitting up straighter, rubbing his eyes to get a clearer view. “Bunny… you look soo... damn...” He clearly was at a loss of words at the sight before him.
Toji didn’t speak immediately. His jaw twitched, as his eyes raked over you. “The fuck are you playing at?” he muttered. “Dressed like that… at this hour?” He set the bottle in his hand down with a heavy clink.
“Shit,” he said again, hand already on his sweatpants, adjusting himself shamelessly. “Walkin’ around lookin’ like that—fuckin’ shameless.”
“C'mere,” Gojo said softly, already on his feet, closing the distance in two steps, one hand on your waist, the other brushing your hair aside to press kisses along your neck. “You ain't leaving bunny... Not like this—god, let me just—”
His fingers started sliding up your side, mouthing at your pulse like he was seconds away from marking you all up .
That’s when Nanami entered.
He was in a black suit. Cufflinks gleaming. His hair is picture perfect. Tie straight. Every inch of him screamed sharp, except the way his eyes softened the second they landed on you.
“Stop groping her, Gojo,” he said flatly, adjusting his sleeves as he strode in. “She’s mine tonight.”
Gojo jerked back, blinking. “Huh? wait a fuckin’ second. Who said—wait—” He paused, looked you up and down again. “Ohhh no. No no no. Don’t tell me—”
Nanami looked at you. You looked at him. Nothing was said.
Gojo staggered back a full step, clutching a hand to his chest. “Are you—” he gasped. “Y'all are going on a fuckin' date?”
Toji let out a low snort as he finally pushed himself off the couch, stretching with a lazy crack of his neck. “Ah, yeah,” he drawled. “Funny how you're not the only one who gets dating privileges around here, asshole.”
Gojo turned around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Shut the fuck up, grandpa. You're one to talk.”
Toji's mouth curled into a dangerous grin. “Say that again.”
Gojo lifted his chin. “Grandpa.”
“Got a death wish?”
Through all of it, Nanami didn't even bother to spare a glance at the scene. It was just another day for him.
“She's leaving. With me,” he said calmly. "Argue later."
“What the actual fuck is happening in this house?!” Gojo cried, throwing both hands into the air. “I'm supposed to be the boyfriend!”
“Yeah right, fuckboy,” Toji shot back at him.
“Stop being so jealous, old man.”
“Shut up, you're loud.”
“You're Balding.”
“I'LL FUCKIN' KILL YOU.”
“Enough.” Nanami's voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. The room fell quiet almost instantly. He glanced at Gojo over the rim of his glasses. “Touch her again and I'll rearrange your jaw.”
Gojo looked at you, wide puppy eyes and a cute pout on his lips, like you'd betrayed him. “You're really going with him?” He pointed at Nanami. “Mr. Perfect?”
“...Was that supposed to be an insult?” Nanami asked, his eyes settling on Gojo in complete deadpan.
Gojo opened his mouth, already loading up another comeback—
“I can't?” you asked instead, tilting your head ever so slightly, your innocent little pout making it twice as unfair.
“Bunny...” he groaned helplessly, dragging a hand down his face. “Don't look at me like that. You're not helping.”
The tiny smile tugging at the corners of your lips gave you away. You knew exactly what you were doing.
Gojo pointed an accusing finger at you. “See? She's smiling. Enjoying my suffering, aren't you?”
“She absolutely is,” Toji muttered with a snort.
Nanami let out a slow breath, sounding thoroughly over the entire conversation. That was enough. He held out his hand toward you. “Ready?”
You nodded with a smile, slipping your fingers into his without a second thought.
“Wait—no—c'mon, just lemme come too...” Gojo hurried after the two of you the second you started walking. “I'll be good! I can third-wheel! Please.... I'll even sit at another table!”
“No.”
“But I—”
“No.”
The front door swung open. Gojo lunged towards it. Nanami led you outside without so much as another glance over his shoulder. “Goodnight, kids.”
The door clicked shut. Right in Gojo's face. He stood there for a long moment with his forehead resting against the wood before letting out defeated sigh. “…Unbelievable.”
Toji barked out a laugh as he wandered into the kitchen, reaching for the fridge. “Cry louder.”
Gojo had his face still planted against the front door. “I swear to God, I'm gonna start an OnlyFans out of spite.”
Toji slammed the fridge shut with a loud thud. “'Bout what I'd expect from a whore.”
“EXCUSE ME?!”
***
The city shimmered around you, golden lights reflecting in the windshield of Nanami’s sleek black car as he drove through the traffic with the same steady focus he seemed to have for everything.
God, he looked good. Who the hell looks that attractive just driving a car?
The suit definitely wasn't helping. Neither were his glasses, or the expensive watch sitting perfectly on his wrist. Everything about him was so... Nanami. Clean and composed. Effortlessly hot without even trying.
Your brain, however, had been stuck on what happened few minutes ago. The second you'd climbed into the passenger seat, your dress had ridden up way higher than you meant it to. You swear you caught him cussing under his breath before he leaned across to buckle your seatbelt himself. His fingers brushed your bare thigh for a second before he pulled away and started the car like nothing had happened.
The drive stayed quiet after that.
His hand rested on the gear shifter, and every time he changed gears, his knuckles brushed your knee for the briefest moment before disappearing again. It was probably accidental.....
Then there were the looks.
He didn’t say much, but kept glancing at you. Each one longer, lingering at the red of your lipstick, the curve of your thighs, the deep valley of your cleavage barely contained by the dress.
You couldn't quite figure out what was actually happening. It felt too hot inside the car. Calm on the surface, but burning underneath, like the air itself was teasing you.
It’s not like this was new with Nanami. It's not like you were some fresh couple going for a first date.
He has fucked you dumb more times than you could ever count. He has held you all night, nothing but bare bodies tangled up till morning light hit. Have done every intimate thing a man and woman can do, yet still... your heart was still pounding like it was the very first date with the hottest man alive. Just sitting next to him in this car had you giddy, as if you were some pure thing who’s never been ruined by him before.
It's been quiet for a while now.
Streetlights swept across in slow intervals, painting gold over his face before disappearing again. You found yourself stealing glance after glance at him, unable to help it.
Nanami looked... different.
Somewhere between, he'd gotten a haircut. It wasn't anything big, just enough to clean up the edges, and he'd shaved too. Maybe he did it himself. His jaw looked sharper somehow, the clean lines only making him look even more handsome than usual.
Your fingers twitched in your lap, wanting to reach over and touch his face. So bad. Just once would be enough. Maybe brush your thumb along his jaw and see if it was as smooth as it looked. But he was driving and you didn't want to distract him.
“What?” his voice pulled you clean out of your thoughts.
“Hmmm?” you blinked, turning to him.
“What're you thinking about?”
“Oh...” you laughed nervously, looking away for a second. “Nothing.”
He didn't buy it at all. There was the faintest hint of amusement on his face as he kept one hand steady on the wheel. His watch caught the passing streetlights every few seconds, glinting softly against his wrist.
“You were thinking about something.”
“Well...” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “Kind of.”
“About who?” he paused for just a beat before adding, too casually—“Gojo?”
“What?” your head whipped toward him so fast it made him chuckle. “Noo!”
“No?”
“No!”
A quiet laugh escaped him. “Miss him already?”
You stared at him, completely baffled. “Nanamin...” you whined, pouting as you lightly nudged his arm. “I'm literally with you right now. Why would I be thinking about anyone else?”
That seemed to catch him off guard. His brows lifted just slightly before the smallest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh?” he murmured. “My pretty girl getting feisty?”
“Yeah, because you're teasing me.”
“Was I?”
“Yeah.”
“I don't recall.”
You let out a soft groan and folded your arms, turning toward the window with a huff. The silence lasted all of five seconds.
“Oh?” Nanami said, unable to hide the smile in his voice. “Now you don't want to look at me?”
You tried your very best to ignore him.
“A minute ago, you couldn't stop staring.”
“I wasn't staring.”
“No?”
“No!”
He finally glanced over at you while the car waited at a red light, expression calm as ever. “Wanna lie to my face?”
You held his gaze for exactly two seconds before your resolve crumbled. “…Fine.”
“Thought so.” He looked back at the road. “So,” he said, the corners of his lips still turned up slightly, “what was the reason?”
You fidgeted with the fabric of your dress. “It's just... well.. did you shave?”
His hand came up instinctively, fingertips brushing over his chin before settling back on the steering wheel.
“I did. What about it?”
You looked at him again, this time without trying to hide it. “…Nothing.” You pause for a bit, eyes still on him. “I just think you look really good.”
The confession slipped out so quietly you almost hoped he hadn't heard it. Instead, a low chuckle filled the car.
“Is that so?”
You nodded, suddenly finding the view out the windshield incredibly interesting. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, when the road ahead cleared, he lifted his hand from the steering wheel just long enough to gently pat the top of your head, his touch warm and fond before returning it to the wheel.
That tiny gesture was enough to leave your heart fluttering for the rest of the drive.
***
Once you arrived, the valet took the keys, and Nanami held out his hand for you. You took it, the touch familiar and foreign all at once.
Inside the restaurant, the lighting was low and amber-gold, soft music playing in the background. But the moment you walked through the door, few pairs of eyes trailed after you, some of them subtle, others not. Of course, he noticed.
Without saying a word, he stepped closer behind you, hand pressing firm to your back, guiding you to the table. The touch said "mine" loud enough to echo. When one waiter stared too long at your legs, Nanami leaned in and pressed his lips against your ear.
“You alright, love?” he whispered, just loud enough for the waiter to hear. The waiter immediately looked away.
Dinner was... nice.
Nanami ordered for you and every single dish that arrived happened to be one of your favorites. Honestly, you weren't even surprised. Sometimes you swore this man knew your likes and dislikes better than you knew them yourself.
You did most of the talking.
College, friends, that annoying professor, the place near campus that had the best pasta you've ever had... you just kept rambling while he listened quietly, occasionally humming or asking something small to keep you going.
At one point, you realized you were barely giving him a chance to speak. Feeling a little awkward, you asked about his day instead, about work and how everything had been. He simply smiled, gave a small shake of his head, and answered, "Nothing important. Keep going."
So... you did.
He kept your wineglass topped up whenever it got low, listening more than he spoke, every bit the gentleman you'd always known him to be.
Even then, you couldn't help feeling a little flustered. Because Nanami just... wouldn't stop looking at you. His eyes were glued to your neckline, the way the chain on your dress framed the swell of your breasts. He was calm about it. But intense. His hand, meanwhile, rested on your thigh under the white-linen tablecloth. And slowly… agonizingly… it inched higher.
You stumbled over your words when his fingers squeezed just an inch above your knee.
“You were saying?” he asked, with a polite tone.
You tried to keep talking. Tried to look at the candle, at your food, at anywhere but him. But his fingers slid a little higher. Brushing the edge of your inner thigh now, enough to make you stop breathing.
“You’re blushing,” he said simply.
“I-I’m not.”
“Hmm.” His thumb stroked your skin slowly. “I think you are.”
This man and his goddamn composure…
If it were Toji, he wouldn't even have waited a full ten minutes. You’d be bent over the counter in the restroom by now, dress up around your waist while he’s splitting you open from behind, bullying that poor cunt until you’re creaming down his cock.
Gojo won't even give a single fuck about privacy. He’d just pull you onto his lap right there at the table, long fingers slipping under your dress and panties, rubbing slow circles over your clit, patting your wet folds, then pinching it just enough to be a mean prick.
Geto… well that man would be just as filthy. Dragging you into some alley where the risk of someone walking by is way too high. Spreading your legs apart, throwing one thigh over his shoulder as he drops to his knees and tongue fucks your pussy, all while you’re panicking and glancing around, because literally anyone could see. He doesn’t care, though. In fact, he loves how tense and soaked it makes you.
All those bastards would’ve made a mess of you.
But Nanami?
Nope. Atleast not yet.
He’s still sitting there, eyes calm like he isn’t aware of how badly you need him. He’s patient. Torturously so.
“Good girls don’t cum at the dinner table,” he said during dessert, as his fingers finally grazed your panties under the table. “You’ll wait. Like a lady.”
You nodded quickly. After the last bite, he surprised you.
“Do you want dessert?” he asked.
“… Didn’t we just have—?”
“I meant ice cream,” he said, already motioning the waiter. “You love it, yeah?”
Your face lit up. “Yeah...”
Few minutes later, it was placed in front of you. You took a bite, humming softly. He watched your lips wrap around the spoon.
“You really like vanilla, don’t you?” he said, resting his chin on his hand.
“Yeah, it's good.”
“You know,” he said, swirling the last sip of wine in his glass, “people always say vanilla's boring.” He looked at you then, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
“It isn't. The more you have it... the more you appreciate it.”
You blinked at him, brows knitting together as heat slowly crept up your neck. Was he... thinking what you were thinking?
Nanami, of course, gave nothing away. He simply slid the wineglass away, and offered you his neatly folded napkin like the gentleman he always was.
Later, as the two of you walked back toward the car, your arm looped comfortably through his, Nanami spoke out of nowhere.
“Do you still read smut?” His tone was so casual you'd think he was asking about the weather.
You nearly stumbled in your heels. “W-what smut?”
Nanami came to a stop. He looked down at you, the look alone made it painfully obvious he wasn't gonna buy any bullshit. No point trying.
“…I mean…” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. “No... not really...”
“You do. I caught you reading it once. Had a spanking scene.” His hand drifted to your waist, resting there as he continued walking. “Very detailed, if I remember correctly.”
A quiet chuckle slipped out before he could stop it. “I also remember exactly how many times I made you count.”
Your eyes dropped to the ground quickly. His gaze was impossible to hold for long. “Y-you're mean...”
“That so?”
The ride back was quiet.
Nanami kept one hand on the wheel while the other rested near your thigh again, close enough that every little movement made you painfully aware of it. Every now and then, you'd catch him looking. Your lips. The lipstick he'd picked out himself, now a little smudged after dinner. The slit of your dress that had crept higher than before, exposing just enough skin to keep dragging his eyes back.
He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. You knew that look. It was the same one he'd been giving you all night.
Like he'd been patient long enough.
Tonight, you had a feeling he had something else in mind.
synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?
content warning: sexual content, breast play, groping, nipple play, possessiveness, dirty talk, flirty banter, jealousy, minor verbal humiliation, oower dynamics involving multiple male characters. mature readers only, mdni, 18+.
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Chapter 18
The next evening.
You were sprawled across the couch when you heard the front door unlock. A second later, familiar footsteps crossed the floor. Nanami was home.
Fresh from work, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows and his tie loosened just enough to suggest he'd had a long day. He looked tired, but not nearly tired enough to stop him from looking put together. The only man in this house who didn’t stomp or yell or throw a jacket over the nearest lamp.
Your eyes followed him automatically as he stepped into the living room. Then they landed on the shopping bag in his hand. A small one. Elegant.
“Oh no,” Gojo muttered from where he was laying across the other end of the couch, lifting his head just enough to squint at the shopping bag. “What's that? And why does it look expensive?”
Toji glanced up from his phone immediately, looking suspicious. “The hell's in there?”
Nanami didn't bother answering either of them. He simply walked in, set the bag down on the coffee table in front of you, and gestured toward it. “Try it.”
The curiosity got the better of you instantly. Inside, nestled neatly on a satin cushion, sat a lipstick. The color was gorgeous. A deep, rich red that practically demanded attention.
“Oh...” you murmured, turning it slightly under the light. “Wow.”
Toji took one look at it and frowned. “That's too dark.”
Gojo, naturally, snatched it from your hands before anyone could stop him. He studied it for all of three seconds before letting out a low whistle.
“Oooh~, she’s gonna eat us alive in this one. Look at that shade.” He looked at Nanami. “Nanami, you dirty dog.”
Geto leaned over from beside him, peering at it. “Mmm. Okay, I get it.”
“Right?” Gojo grinned, his eyes brighter than the damn ceiling lights.
Geto nodded toward the lipstick, a grin spreading across his face. “Mhm. Yeah, that's a good one.” He nodded approvingly. “That’s the kind of red she wears while stepping on necks.”
“She can step on me,” Gojo said without missing a beat.
“Toruuu,” you groaned, trying and failing to hide your smile.
“What?” he asked innocently, scooting closer to you. “I'm just supporting women's rights.”
“That's... not what that means.”
“Women's wrongs, then.”
You burst out into a laugh despite yourself. Gojo looked far too pleased about it, his hand finding your thighs as he leaned against your shoulder.
Across the room, Toji looked like he was rapidly losing patience with the entire conversation.
“Can y'all just shut the fuck up for a second?” he grumbled. “I'm just saying the one I picked would've suited her better.”
There was a brief silence. Then Gojo slowly turned toward him. “Are you for real, mate?”
“Yeah.”
"Brother..." Gojo clasped his hands together, bowing mockingly at Toji. "I have no words. ”
Geto immediately folded over laughing. Even you had to bite down on your lip.
Toji's eye twitched. “Y'all don't know shit.”
“It's okay,” Geto said, patting his shoulder with all the sympathy of a man. “Not everybody can have taste.”
“Exactly,” Gojo agreed. “This is a safe space.”
“Toji,” Geto continued solemnly, “We're all very proud of you.”
“Ahhh, here we go again,” Toji muttered, leaning back with crossed arms. “These punks always team up against me. I could say the sky’s blue and you’d both find a reason to tell me I’m wrong.”
“Because your blue is probably, like, periwinkle purple again,” Gojo shot back, blinking blank at him.
“Periwink—I swear to god I’m gonna shove that lipstick up your—”
“That’s enough,” Nanami cut in smoothly, walking to the kitchen. Not loud neither stern, just enough power in his voice to shut the three of them down instantly.
You quietly slipped off the couch, following him like a moth chasing peace. Not before stopping to give Gojo a kiss on each cheek, of course.
Apparently, he'd miss you too much otherwise. You were going to the kitchen. The kitchen. In the same fuckin' apartment. Which was, at most, ten feet away.
***
The kitchen was quiet. Warm with the low hum of the refrigerator and the scent of evening tea lingering in the air. You stood near the counter, sipping water. Nanami leaned against the doorway to the balcony, with folded arms, eyes fixed on you.
“Do you like it?” he asked softly.
You looked up at him. “Hmm?”
“The lipstick,” he clarified, his voice lower now.
You nodded so quickly it almost made your head spin. “Yes, Nanamin. I love it. It's so pretty.”
The smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth was small, but unmistakably pleased. He pushed away from the doorway and crossed the room, his tall frame swallowing the distance between you in only a few steps. Before you could say anything else, his hands came up to cup your face, tilting your head back just enough for you to meet his gaze.
“Then wear it tonight.”
Your eyes widened. “Tonight?”
“Mhmm.. I'll take you somewhere.”
The words were simple, but the way he said them made your stomach flutter.
You blinked up at him, suddenly feeling excited. “Uhm...” A nervous laugh escaped you. “Like... a date?”
His thumb smoothed along your lower lip. “Exactly. Like a date.”
Heat immediately rushed to your face. A date. Just you and Nanami. The thought alone was enough to make your heart stumble. But then another thought hit you.
“Oh.”
Nanami raised a brow. “Oh?”
“Well...” you shifted your weight awkwardly. “Earlier, Toru said he wanted to go for a drive and—”
“Fuck him.”
The response came so quickly your eyes flew up to his face in shock. Nanami looked equally surprised by his own words. A faint crease appeared between his brows as he cleared his throat.
“I mean,” he corrected smoothly, “Don't mind him. Okay?” he gave your head a fond pat.
You nodded at once, already committed to whatever he'd asked of you. Something about the quiet certainty in his voice made you all warm and safe.
Nanami's hand slid down to squeeze yours gently. “Wear the black dress. The one with the chain.” His gaze lingered on you for a moment. “You know the one.”
You absolutely knew the one.
By the time he stepped back, your face felt hot enough to catch fire. All you could manage was a small nod. “Okay.”
The smile he gave you then was subtle, almost impossible to catch if you weren't looking for it. Then, without another word, his hand slipped around your waist and gently pulled you into him.
He kissed you hard, just long enough to steal the breath out of you. You let out the softest gasp as he deepened it, one hand remaining steady against your hip while the other held you close, grounding you in place.
Then he pulled back from the kiss, forehead brushing yours as his thumb slowly traced the curve of your lower lip, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Such a pretty girl...” he murmured, breath warm against your cheek.
“Go get all dolled up for me,” His gaze never left yours. “You're mine for the night... yeah?”
“Y-yeah... I... I'll go get ready.”
You turned on your heel and hurried toward your room. Heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could still hear it from where he stood, your mind hopelessly tangled around that kiss... and everything it seemed to promise.
***
Warm water cascaded down your body in the shower, steam curling in the air like tendrils. You ran your hands down your skin slowly, thoughts drifting to Nanami.
You stepped out of the shower, skin flushed, heartbeat ticking a little too fast. As you dried off, you applied a soft layer of lotion, the scent of warm vanilla mixing with the subtle perfume you dabbed at your pulse points.
The dress slid on like silk, black, hugging your figure sinfully, the gold chain detail gleaming across your chest. Your eyes met your reflection, subtle but bold makeup, the lipstick Nanami chose painted carefully over your lips like temptation. You slipped on your heels, adjusting the straps as your door creaked open.
“Where you going, my lady?” came Geto’s teasing drawl.
You turned to see him leaning in the doorway, dark eyes raking over you with no attempt at being subtle. He gave a low whistle, running a hand through his hair, a smirk forming on his lips.
“All dolled up,” he muttered, eyes dropping to the hem of your dress. “Shit… look at you.”
You opened your mouth to answer but faltered when he muttered under his breath, one palm already smoothing over the unmistakeable bulge in his sweatpants. “Wanna take you right here.”
You swallowed thick, heart fluttering. “… I’m going out.”
Geto raised an eyebrow. “With who? Satoru again?”
You shook your head quickly. “No… it’s Nanamin.”
That made him pause.
“Oh?” he said, straightening up and stepping closer. His hands slipped into his pockets, but his eyes stayed on your face. “Nanami, huh?”
You shifted under his gaze, but didn’t back away when he stepped into your space, close enough to smell your scent.
Your lips parted in a silent yes. He didn’t waste a second. His palm pressed to the wall just beside your head, caging you in. Hand moving to the neckline of your dress, fingers deft as he tugged it down, slow enough to make you shiver.
“Y'know what you do to me, baby?” he murmured. “Walkin' out like that… tits all bouncing, practically begging to be sucked on. Shit, you’re unfair.”
The fabric slipped lower, baring the soft swell of your chest. Geto groaned low in his throat, and then he was on you, lips hot and shameless as they closed over your nipple. His tongue flicked lazily at first, teasing little swirls, before he sealed his mouth fully around it and sucked deep, low moan vibrating straight through you.
Your head tipped back against the wall with a soft gasp, making your knees wobble. He was relentless, working you over like he wanted to leave his name written on your skin.
“Mmm, so fuckin’ soft,” he breathed against you.
Fingers slipping under the curve of your tits, kneading gently while he sucked deeper. Another groan rumbled through his chest as he lifted his head enough to glance up at you, flushed and panting against the wall.
“You gonna walk out like this?” he whispered. “God, I hope he notices,” a smug grin tugged at his lips. “Maybe he'll figure out someone else got their hands on you before he ever had the chance.”
God, he was being so mean.
Then again... Suguru had always been like that. Such a meanie, yet somehow impossibly sweet at the same time. And his gaze... If there was any man capable of making your head spin with nothing more than a single look, it was Suguru Geto.
“Suguuu...” you whined, pouting down at him as you gave his shoulder a few gentle, half-hearted shoves. “I'm gonna be late...”
He shut you up good by kissing just below your nipple, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the side of your boobs.
“Such a naughty girl,” he said, licking a slow, wet stripe back up to your nipple before taking it in his mouth again. “But lucky for you, I’ve always had a thing for bad girls.”
He sucked once hard and the soft pop of his lips leaving your skin echoed in the room . Your chest heaved, nipple now swollen and glistening with his spit, a faint bruise already forming where he’d marked you. He looked at it with a tilted head, really proud of it, then leaned in just once more to plant a soft, almost sweet kiss over the sore spot.
“There,” he licked his lips lazily. “A little something to keep me in your head.”
You were breathless with parted lips, the heat between your legs already building.
“Go give him a good night, honey. But don’t forget who got the first taste.”
***
You stepped out of your room, heels clicking softly on the floor as you walked toward the living room, heart thumping beneath the tight hug of your dress.
Geto had disappeared into his room like nothing had happened, though your flushed cheeks and slightly crooked neckline told a different story. And the moment you entered the room, the temperature dropped and spiked all at once.
Gojo’s head turned first, followed by Toji’s. Both lounged on the couch like kings in their respective thrones. Gojo blinked. Once, then twice. Then tilted his head.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered, sitting up straighter, rubbing his eyes to get a clearer view. “Bunny… you look soo... damn...” He clearly was at a loss of words at the sight before him.
Toji didn’t speak immediately. His jaw twitched, as his eyes raked over you. “The fuck are you playing at?” he muttered. “Dressed like that… at this hour?” He set the bottle in his hand down with a heavy clink.
“Shit,” he said again, hand already on his sweatpants, adjusting himself shamelessly. “Walkin’ around lookin’ like that—fuckin’ shameless.”
“C'mere,” Gojo said softly, already on his feet, closing the distance in two steps, one hand on your waist, the other brushing your hair aside to press kisses along your neck. “You ain't leaving bunny... Not like this—god, let me just—”
His fingers started sliding up your side, mouthing at your pulse like he was seconds away from marking you all up .
That’s when Nanami entered.
He was in a black suit. Cufflinks gleaming. His hair is picture perfect. Tie straight. Every inch of him screamed sharp, except the way his eyes softened the second they landed on you.
“Stop groping her, Gojo,” he said flatly, adjusting his sleeves as he strode in. “She’s mine tonight.”
Gojo jerked back, blinking. “Huh? wait a fuckin’ second. Who said—wait—” He paused, looked you up and down again. “Ohhh no. No no no. Don’t tell me—”
Nanami looked at you. You looked at him. Nothing was said.
Gojo staggered back a full step, clutching a hand to his chest. “Are you—” he gasped. “Y'all are going on a fuckin' date?”
Toji let out a low snort as he finally pushed himself off the couch, stretching with a lazy crack of his neck. “Ah, yeah,” he drawled. “Funny how you're not the only one who gets dating privileges around here, asshole.”
Gojo turned around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Shut the fuck up, grandpa. You're one to talk.”
Toji's mouth curled into a dangerous grin. “Say that again.”
Gojo lifted his chin. “Grandpa.”
“Got a death wish?”
Through all of it, Nanami didn't even bother to spare a glance at the scene. It was just another day for him.
“She's leaving. With me,” he said calmly. "Argue later."
“What the actual fuck is happening in this house?!” Gojo cried, throwing both hands into the air. “I'm supposed to be the boyfriend!”
“Yeah right, fuckboy,” Toji shot back at him.
“Stop being so jealous, old man.”
“Shut up, you're loud.”
“You're Balding.”
“I'LL FUCKIN' KILL YOU.”
“Enough.” Nanami's voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. The room fell quiet almost instantly. He glanced at Gojo over the rim of his glasses. “Touch her again and I'll rearrange your jaw.”
Gojo looked at you, wide puppy eyes and a cute pout on his lips, like you'd betrayed him. “You're really going with him?” He pointed at Nanami. “Mr. Perfect?”
“...Was that supposed to be an insult?” Nanami asked, his eyes settling on Gojo in complete deadpan.
Gojo opened his mouth, already loading up another comeback—
“I can't?” you asked instead, tilting your head ever so slightly, your innocent little pout making it twice as unfair.
“Bunny...” he groaned helplessly, dragging a hand down his face. “Don't look at me like that. You're not helping.”
The tiny smile tugging at the corners of your lips gave you away. You knew exactly what you were doing.
Gojo pointed an accusing finger at you. “See? She's smiling. Enjoying my suffering, aren't you?”
“She absolutely is,” Toji muttered with a snort.
Nanami let out a slow breath, sounding thoroughly over the entire conversation. That was enough. He held out his hand toward you. “Ready?”
You nodded with a smile, slipping your fingers into his without a second thought.
“Wait—no—c'mon, just lemme come too...” Gojo hurried after the two of you the second you started walking. “I'll be good! I can third-wheel! Please.... I'll even sit at another table!”
“No.”
“But I—”
“No.”
The front door swung open. Gojo lunged towards it. Nanami led you outside without so much as another glance over his shoulder. “Goodnight, kids.”
The door clicked shut. Right in Gojo's face. He stood there for a long moment with his forehead resting against the wood before letting out defeated sigh. “…Unbelievable.”
Toji barked out a laugh as he wandered into the kitchen, reaching for the fridge. “Cry louder.”
Gojo had his face still planted against the front door. “I swear to God, I'm gonna start an OnlyFans out of spite.”
Toji slammed the fridge shut with a loud thud. “'Bout what I'd expect from a whore.”
“EXCUSE ME?!”
***
The city shimmered around you, golden lights reflecting in the windshield of Nanami’s sleek black car as he drove through the traffic with the same steady focus he seemed to have for everything.
God, he looked good. Who the hell looks that attractive just driving a car?
The suit definitely wasn't helping. Neither were his glasses, or the expensive watch sitting perfectly on his wrist. Everything about him was so... Nanami. Clean and composed. Effortlessly hot without even trying.
Your brain, however, had been stuck on what happened few minutes ago. The second you'd climbed into the passenger seat, your dress had ridden up way higher than you meant it to. You swear you caught him cussing under his breath before he leaned across to buckle your seatbelt himself. His fingers brushed your bare thigh for a second before he pulled away and started the car like nothing had happened.
The drive stayed quiet after that.
His hand rested on the gear shifter, and every time he changed gears, his knuckles brushed your knee for the briefest moment before disappearing again. It was probably accidental.....
Then there were the looks.
He didn’t say much, but kept glancing at you. Each one longer, lingering at the red of your lipstick, the curve of your thighs, the deep valley of your cleavage barely contained by the dress.
You couldn't quite figure out what was actually happening. It felt too hot inside the car. Calm on the surface, but burning underneath, like the air itself was teasing you.
It’s not like this was new with Nanami. It's not like you were some fresh couple going for a first date.
He has fucked you dumb more times than you could ever count. He has held you all night, nothing but bare bodies tangled up till morning light hit. Have done every intimate thing a man and woman can do, yet still... your heart was still pounding like it was the very first date with the hottest man alive. Just sitting next to him in this car had you giddy, as if you were some pure thing who’s never been ruined by him before.
It's been quiet for a while now.
Streetlights swept across in slow intervals, painting gold over his face before disappearing again. You found yourself stealing glance after glance at him, unable to help it.
Nanami looked... different.
Somewhere between, he'd gotten a haircut. It wasn't anything big, just enough to clean up the edges, and he'd shaved too. Maybe he did it himself. His jaw looked sharper somehow, the clean lines only making him look even more handsome than usual.
Your fingers twitched in your lap, wanting to reach over and touch his face. So bad. Just once would be enough. Maybe brush your thumb along his jaw and see if it was as smooth as it looked. But he was driving and you didn't want to distract him.
“What?” his voice pulled you clean out of your thoughts.
“Hmmm?” you blinked, turning to him.
“What're you thinking about?”
“Oh...” you laughed nervously, looking away for a second. “Nothing.”
He didn't buy it at all. There was the faintest hint of amusement on his face as he kept one hand steady on the wheel. His watch caught the passing streetlights every few seconds, glinting softly against his wrist.
“You were thinking about something.”
“Well...” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “Kind of.”
“About who?” he paused for just a beat before adding, too casually—“Gojo?”
“What?” your head whipped toward him so fast it made him chuckle. “Noo!”
“No?”
“No!”
A quiet laugh escaped him. “Miss him already?”
You stared at him, completely baffled. “Nanamin...” you whined, pouting as you lightly nudged his arm. “I'm literally with you right now. Why would I be thinking about anyone else?”
That seemed to catch him off guard. His brows lifted just slightly before the smallest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh?” he murmured. “My pretty girl getting feisty?”
“Yeah, because you're teasing me.”
“Was I?”
“Yeah.”
“I don't recall.”
You let out a soft groan and folded your arms, turning toward the window with a huff. The silence lasted all of five seconds.
“Oh?” Nanami said, unable to hide the smile in his voice. “Now you don't want to look at me?”
You tried your very best to ignore him.
“A minute ago, you couldn't stop staring.”
“I wasn't staring.”
“No?”
“No!”
He finally glanced over at you while the car waited at a red light, expression calm as ever. “Wanna lie to my face?”
You held his gaze for exactly two seconds before your resolve crumbled. “…Fine.”
“Thought so.” He looked back at the road. “So,” he said, the corners of his lips still turned up slightly, “what was the reason?”
You fidgeted with the fabric of your dress. “It's just... well.. did you shave?”
His hand came up instinctively, fingertips brushing over his chin before settling back on the steering wheel.
“I did. What about it?”
You looked at him again, this time without trying to hide it. “…Nothing.” You pause for a bit, eyes still on him. “I just think you look really good.”
The confession slipped out so quietly you almost hoped he hadn't heard it. Instead, a low chuckle filled the car.
“Is that so?”
You nodded, suddenly finding the view out the windshield incredibly interesting. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, when the road ahead cleared, he lifted his hand from the steering wheel just long enough to gently pat the top of your head, his touch warm and fond before returning it to the wheel.
That tiny gesture was enough to leave your heart fluttering for the rest of the drive.
***
Once you arrived, the valet took the keys, and Nanami held out his hand for you. You took it, the touch familiar and foreign all at once.
Inside the restaurant, the lighting was low and amber-gold, soft music playing in the background. But the moment you walked through the door, few pairs of eyes trailed after you, some of them subtle, others not. Of course, he noticed.
Without saying a word, he stepped closer behind you, hand pressing firm to your back, guiding you to the table. The touch said "mine" loud enough to echo. When one waiter stared too long at your legs, Nanami leaned in and pressed his lips against your ear.
“You alright, love?” he whispered, just loud enough for the waiter to hear. The waiter immediately looked away.
Dinner was... nice.
Nanami ordered for you and every single dish that arrived happened to be one of your favorites. Honestly, you weren't even surprised. Sometimes you swore this man knew your likes and dislikes better than you knew them yourself.
You did most of the talking.
College, friends, that annoying professor, the place near campus that had the best pasta you've ever had... you just kept rambling while he listened quietly, occasionally humming or asking something small to keep you going.
At one point, you realized you were barely giving him a chance to speak. Feeling a little awkward, you asked about his day instead, about work and how everything had been. He simply smiled, gave a small shake of his head, and answered, "Nothing important. Keep going."
So... you did.
He kept your wineglass topped up whenever it got low, listening more than he spoke, every bit the gentleman you'd always known him to be.
Even then, you couldn't help feeling a little flustered. Because Nanami just... wouldn't stop looking at you. His eyes were glued to your neckline, the way the chain on your dress framed the swell of your breasts. He was calm about it. But intense. His hand, meanwhile, rested on your thigh under the white-linen tablecloth. And slowly… agonizingly… it inched higher.
You stumbled over your words when his fingers squeezed just an inch above your knee.
“You were saying?” he asked, with a polite tone.
You tried to keep talking. Tried to look at the candle, at your food, at anywhere but him. But his fingers slid a little higher. Brushing the edge of your inner thigh now, enough to make you stop breathing.
“You’re blushing,” he said simply.
“I-I’m not.”
“Hmm.” His thumb stroked your skin slowly. “I think you are.”
This man and his goddamn composure…
If it were Toji, he wouldn't even have waited a full ten minutes. You’d be bent over the counter in the restroom by now, dress up around your waist while he’s splitting you open from behind, bullying that poor cunt until you’re creaming down his cock.
Gojo won't even give a single fuck about privacy. He’d just pull you onto his lap right there at the table, long fingers slipping under your dress and panties, rubbing slow circles over your clit, patting your wet folds, then pinching it just enough to be a mean prick.
Geto… well that man would be just as filthy. Dragging you into some alley where the risk of someone walking by is way too high. Spreading your legs apart, throwing one thigh over his shoulder as he drops to his knees and tongue fucks your pussy, all while you’re panicking and glancing around, because literally anyone could see. He doesn’t care, though. In fact, he loves how tense and soaked it makes you.
All those bastards would’ve made a mess of you.
But Nanami?
Nope. Atleast not yet.
He’s still sitting there, eyes calm like he isn’t aware of how badly you need him. He’s patient. Torturously so.
“Good girls don’t cum at the dinner table,” he said during dessert, as his fingers finally grazed your panties under the table. “You’ll wait. Like a lady.”
You nodded quickly. After the last bite, he surprised you.
“Do you want dessert?” he asked.
“… Didn’t we just have—?”
“I meant ice cream,” he said, already motioning the waiter. “You love it, yeah?”
Your face lit up. “Yeah...”
Few minutes later, it was placed in front of you. You took a bite, humming softly. He watched your lips wrap around the spoon.
“You really like vanilla, don’t you?” he said, resting his chin on his hand.
“Yeah, it's good.”
“You know,” he said, swirling the last sip of wine in his glass, “people always say vanilla's boring.” He looked at you then, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
“It isn't. The more you have it... the more you appreciate it.”
You blinked at him, brows knitting together as heat slowly crept up your neck. Was he... thinking what you were thinking?
Nanami, of course, gave nothing away. He simply slid the wineglass away, and offered you his neatly folded napkin like the gentleman he always was.
Later, as the two of you walked back toward the car, your arm looped comfortably through his, Nanami spoke out of nowhere.
“Do you still read smut?” His tone was so casual you'd think he was asking about the weather.
You nearly stumbled in your heels. “W-what smut?”
Nanami came to a stop. He looked down at you, the look alone made it painfully obvious he wasn't gonna buy any bullshit. No point trying.
“…I mean…” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. “No... not really...”
“You do. I caught you reading it once. Had a spanking scene.” His hand drifted to your waist, resting there as he continued walking. “Very detailed, if I remember correctly.”
A quiet chuckle slipped out before he could stop it. “I also remember exactly how many times I made you count.”
Your eyes dropped to the ground quickly. His gaze was impossible to hold for long. “Y-you're mean...”
“That so?”
The ride back was quiet.
Nanami kept one hand on the wheel while the other rested near your thigh again, close enough that every little movement made you painfully aware of it. Every now and then, you'd catch him looking. Your lips. The lipstick he'd picked out himself, now a little smudged after dinner. The slit of your dress that had crept higher than before, exposing just enough skin to keep dragging his eyes back.
He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. You knew that look. It was the same one he'd been giving you all night.
Like he'd been patient long enough.
Tonight, you had a feeling he had something else in mind.
so smthng pretty big going on at work rn, and tbh it's a lot more than i can handle. i've been having really bad anxiety attacks over it, idk if i'm just overreacting or what, but when it happens i genuinely can't get myself under control.
everything feels really uncertain rn, and don't know how any of this is gonna turn out. so i probably won't be posting or interacting for a few days.
if it all ends up being nothing and everything works out, i'll be back soon. if it's nottt... i might disappear for a while. 🙁
the past few days at work have been... okay-ish. idk what'll happen in the near future, but i'm trying really hard to get myself under control so i don't freak out.
like, wdym i was out here wishing i'd never wake up the next day 😭😭 absolutely not. i need to get it through my thick skull that no job in the world is worth putting myself through that 😭
synopsis : you moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?
content warning: sexual content, breast play, groping, nipple play, possessiveness, dirty talk, flirty banter, jealousy, minor verbal humiliation, oower dynamics involving multiple male characters. mature readers only, mdni, 18+.
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Chapter 18
The next evening.
You were sprawled across the couch when you heard the front door unlock. A second later, familiar footsteps crossed the floor. Nanami was home.
Fresh from work, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows and his tie loosened just enough to suggest he'd had a long day. He looked tired, but not nearly tired enough to stop him from looking put together. The only man in this house who didn’t stomp or yell or throw a jacket over the nearest lamp.
Your eyes followed him automatically as he stepped into the living room. Then they landed on the shopping bag in his hand. A small one. Elegant.
“Oh no,” Gojo muttered from where he was laying across the other end of the couch, lifting his head just enough to squint at the shopping bag. “What's that? And why does it look expensive?”
Toji glanced up from his phone immediately, looking suspicious. “The hell's in there?”
Nanami didn't bother answering either of them. He simply walked in, set the bag down on the coffee table in front of you, and gestured toward it. “Try it.”
The curiosity got the better of you instantly. Inside, nestled neatly on a satin cushion, sat a lipstick. The color was gorgeous. A deep, rich red that practically demanded attention.
“Oh...” you murmured, turning it slightly under the light. “Wow.”
Toji took one look at it and frowned. “That's too dark.”
Gojo, naturally, snatched it from your hands before anyone could stop him. He studied it for all of three seconds before letting out a low whistle.
“Oooh~, she’s gonna eat us alive in this one. Look at that shade.” He looked at Nanami. “Nanami, you dirty dog.”
Geto leaned over from beside him, peering at it. “Mmm. Okay, I get it.”
“Right?” Gojo grinned, his eyes brighter than the damn ceiling lights.
Geto nodded toward the lipstick, a grin spreading across his face. “Mhm. Yeah, that's a good one.” He nodded approvingly. “That’s the kind of red she wears while stepping on necks.”
“She can step on me,” Gojo said without missing a beat.
“Toruuu,” you groaned, trying and failing to hide your smile.
“What?” he asked innocently, scooting closer to you. “I'm just supporting women's rights.”
“That's... not what that means.”
“Women's wrongs, then.”
You burst out into a laugh despite yourself. Gojo looked far too pleased about it, his hand finding your thighs as he leaned against your shoulder.
Across the room, Toji looked like he was rapidly losing patience with the entire conversation.
“Can y'all just shut the fuck up for a second?” he grumbled. “I'm just saying the one I picked would've suited her better.”
There was a brief silence. Then Gojo slowly turned toward him. “Are you for real, mate?”
“Yeah.”
"Brother..." Gojo clasped his hands together, bowing mockingly at Toji. "I have no words. ”
Geto immediately folded over laughing. Even you had to bite down on your lip.
Toji's eye twitched. “Y'all don't know shit.”
“It's okay,” Geto said, patting his shoulder with all the sympathy of a man. “Not everybody can have taste.”
“Exactly,” Gojo agreed. “This is a safe space.”
“Toji,” Geto continued solemnly, “We're all very proud of you.”
“Ahhh, here we go again,” Toji muttered, leaning back with crossed arms. “These punks always team up against me. I could say the sky’s blue and you’d both find a reason to tell me I’m wrong.”
“Because your blue is probably, like, periwinkle purple again,” Gojo shot back, blinking blank at him.
“Periwink—I swear to god I’m gonna shove that lipstick up your—”
“That’s enough,” Nanami cut in smoothly, walking to the kitchen. Not loud neither stern, just enough power in his voice to shut the three of them down instantly.
You quietly slipped off the couch, following him like a moth chasing peace. Not before stopping to give Gojo a kiss on each cheek, of course.
Apparently, he'd miss you too much otherwise. You were going to the kitchen. The kitchen. In the same fuckin' apartment. Which was, at most, ten feet away.
***
The kitchen was quiet. Warm with the low hum of the refrigerator and the scent of evening tea lingering in the air. You stood near the counter, sipping water. Nanami leaned against the doorway to the balcony, with folded arms, eyes fixed on you.
“Do you like it?” he asked softly.
You looked up at him. “Hmm?”
“The lipstick,” he clarified, his voice lower now.
You nodded so quickly it almost made your head spin. “Yes, Nanamin. I love it. It's so pretty.”
The smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth was small, but unmistakably pleased. He pushed away from the doorway and crossed the room, his tall frame swallowing the distance between you in only a few steps. Before you could say anything else, his hands came up to cup your face, tilting your head back just enough for you to meet his gaze.
“Then wear it tonight.”
Your eyes widened. “Tonight?”
“Mhmm.. I'll take you somewhere.”
The words were simple, but the way he said them made your stomach flutter.
You blinked up at him, suddenly feeling excited. “Uhm...” A nervous laugh escaped you. “Like... a date?”
His thumb smoothed along your lower lip. “Exactly. Like a date.”
Heat immediately rushed to your face. A date. Just you and Nanami. The thought alone was enough to make your heart stumble. But then another thought hit you.
“Oh.”
Nanami raised a brow. “Oh?”
“Well...” you shifted your weight awkwardly. “Earlier, Toru said he wanted to go for a drive and—”
“Fuck him.”
The response came so quickly your eyes flew up to his face in shock. Nanami looked equally surprised by his own words. A faint crease appeared between his brows as he cleared his throat.
“I mean,” he corrected smoothly, “Don't mind him. Okay?” he gave your head a fond pat.
You nodded at once, already committed to whatever he'd asked of you. Something about the quiet certainty in his voice made you all warm and safe.
Nanami's hand slid down to squeeze yours gently. “Wear the black dress. The one with the chain.” His gaze lingered on you for a moment. “You know the one.”
You absolutely knew the one.
By the time he stepped back, your face felt hot enough to catch fire. All you could manage was a small nod. “Okay.”
The smile he gave you then was subtle, almost impossible to catch if you weren't looking for it. Then, without another word, his hand slipped around your waist and gently pulled you into him.
He kissed you hard, just long enough to steal the breath out of you. You let out the softest gasp as he deepened it, one hand remaining steady against your hip while the other held you close, grounding you in place.
Then he pulled back from the kiss, forehead brushing yours as his thumb slowly traced the curve of your lower lip, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Such a pretty girl...” he murmured, breath warm against your cheek.
“Go get all dolled up for me,” His gaze never left yours. “You're mine for the night... yeah?”
“Y-yeah... I... I'll go get ready.”
You turned on your heel and hurried toward your room. Heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could still hear it from where he stood, your mind hopelessly tangled around that kiss... and everything it seemed to promise.
***
Warm water cascaded down your body in the shower, steam curling in the air like tendrils. You ran your hands down your skin slowly, thoughts drifting to Nanami.
You stepped out of the shower, skin flushed, heartbeat ticking a little too fast. As you dried off, you applied a soft layer of lotion, the scent of warm vanilla mixing with the subtle perfume you dabbed at your pulse points.
The dress slid on like silk, black, hugging your figure sinfully, the gold chain detail gleaming across your chest. Your eyes met your reflection, subtle but bold makeup, the lipstick Nanami chose painted carefully over your lips like temptation. You slipped on your heels, adjusting the straps as your door creaked open.
“Where you going, my lady?” came Geto’s teasing drawl.
You turned to see him leaning in the doorway, dark eyes raking over you with no attempt at being subtle. He gave a low whistle, running a hand through his hair, a smirk forming on his lips.
“All dolled up,” he muttered, eyes dropping to the hem of your dress. “Shit… look at you.”
You opened your mouth to answer but faltered when he muttered under his breath, one palm already smoothing over the unmistakeable bulge in his sweatpants. “Wanna take you right here.”
You swallowed thick, heart fluttering. “… I’m going out.”
Geto raised an eyebrow. “With who? Satoru again?”
You shook your head quickly. “No… it’s Nanamin.”
That made him pause.
“Oh?” he said, straightening up and stepping closer. His hands slipped into his pockets, but his eyes stayed on your face. “Nanami, huh?”
You shifted under his gaze, but didn’t back away when he stepped into your space, close enough to smell your scent.
Your lips parted in a silent yes. He didn’t waste a second. His palm pressed to the wall just beside your head, caging you in. Hand moving to the neckline of your dress, fingers deft as he tugged it down, slow enough to make you shiver.
“Y'know what you do to me, baby?” he murmured. “Walkin' out like that… tits all bouncing, practically begging to be sucked on. Shit, you’re unfair.”
The fabric slipped lower, baring the soft swell of your chest. Geto groaned low in his throat, and then he was on you, lips hot and shameless as they closed over your nipple. His tongue flicked lazily at first, teasing little swirls, before he sealed his mouth fully around it and sucked deep, low moan vibrating straight through you.
Your head tipped back against the wall with a soft gasp, making your knees wobble. He was relentless, working you over like he wanted to leave his name written on your skin.
“Mmm, so fuckin’ soft,” he breathed against you.
Fingers slipping under the curve of your tits, kneading gently while he sucked deeper. Another groan rumbled through his chest as he lifted his head enough to glance up at you, flushed and panting against the wall.
“You gonna walk out like this?” he whispered. “God, I hope he notices,” a smug grin tugged at his lips. “Maybe he'll figure out someone else got their hands on you before he ever had the chance.”
God, he was being so mean.
Then again... Suguru had always been like that. Such a meanie, yet somehow impossibly sweet at the same time. And his gaze... If there was any man capable of making your head spin with nothing more than a single look, it was Suguru Geto.
“Suguuu...” you whined, pouting down at him as you gave his shoulder a few gentle, half-hearted shoves. “I'm gonna be late...”
He shut you up good by kissing just below your nipple, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the side of your boobs.
“Such a naughty girl,” he said, licking a slow, wet stripe back up to your nipple before taking it in his mouth again. “But lucky for you, I’ve always had a thing for bad girls.”
He sucked once hard and the soft pop of his lips leaving your skin echoed in the room . Your chest heaved, nipple now swollen and glistening with his spit, a faint bruise already forming where he’d marked you. He looked at it with a tilted head, really proud of it, then leaned in just once more to plant a soft, almost sweet kiss over the sore spot.
“There,” he licked his lips lazily. “A little something to keep me in your head.”
You were breathless with parted lips, the heat between your legs already building.
“Go give him a good night, honey. But don’t forget who got the first taste.”
***
You stepped out of your room, heels clicking softly on the floor as you walked toward the living room, heart thumping beneath the tight hug of your dress.
Geto had disappeared into his room like nothing had happened, though your flushed cheeks and slightly crooked neckline told a different story. And the moment you entered the room, the temperature dropped and spiked all at once.
Gojo’s head turned first, followed by Toji’s. Both lounged on the couch like kings in their respective thrones. Gojo blinked. Once, then twice. Then tilted his head.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered, sitting up straighter, rubbing his eyes to get a clearer view. “Bunny… you look soo... damn...” He clearly was at a loss of words at the sight before him.
Toji didn’t speak immediately. His jaw twitched, as his eyes raked over you. “The fuck are you playing at?” he muttered. “Dressed like that… at this hour?” He set the bottle in his hand down with a heavy clink.
“Shit,” he said again, hand already on his sweatpants, adjusting himself shamelessly. “Walkin’ around lookin’ like that—fuckin’ shameless.”
“C'mere,” Gojo said softly, already on his feet, closing the distance in two steps, one hand on your waist, the other brushing your hair aside to press kisses along your neck. “You ain't leaving bunny... Not like this—god, let me just—”
His fingers started sliding up your side, mouthing at your pulse like he was seconds away from marking you all up .
That’s when Nanami entered.
He was in a black suit. Cufflinks gleaming. His hair is picture perfect. Tie straight. Every inch of him screamed sharp, except the way his eyes softened the second they landed on you.
“Stop groping her, Gojo,” he said flatly, adjusting his sleeves as he strode in. “She’s mine tonight.”
Gojo jerked back, blinking. “Huh? wait a fuckin’ second. Who said—wait—” He paused, looked you up and down again. “Ohhh no. No no no. Don’t tell me—”
Nanami looked at you. You looked at him. Nothing was said.
Gojo staggered back a full step, clutching a hand to his chest. “Are you—” he gasped. “Y'all are going on a fuckin' date?”
Toji let out a low snort as he finally pushed himself off the couch, stretching with a lazy crack of his neck. “Ah, yeah,” he drawled. “Funny how you're not the only one who gets dating privileges around here, asshole.”
Gojo turned around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Shut the fuck up, grandpa. You're one to talk.”
Toji's mouth curled into a dangerous grin. “Say that again.”
Gojo lifted his chin. “Grandpa.”
“Got a death wish?”
Through all of it, Nanami didn't even bother to spare a glance at the scene. It was just another day for him.
“She's leaving. With me,” he said calmly. "Argue later."
“What the actual fuck is happening in this house?!” Gojo cried, throwing both hands into the air. “I'm supposed to be the boyfriend!”
“Yeah right, fuckboy,” Toji shot back at him.
“Stop being so jealous, old man.”
“Shut up, you're loud.”
“You're Balding.”
“I'LL FUCKIN' KILL YOU.”
“Enough.” Nanami's voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. The room fell quiet almost instantly. He glanced at Gojo over the rim of his glasses. “Touch her again and I'll rearrange your jaw.”
Gojo looked at you, wide puppy eyes and a cute pout on his lips, like you'd betrayed him. “You're really going with him?” He pointed at Nanami. “Mr. Perfect?”
“...Was that supposed to be an insult?” Nanami asked, his eyes settling on Gojo in complete deadpan.
Gojo opened his mouth, already loading up another comeback—
“I can't?” you asked instead, tilting your head ever so slightly, your innocent little pout making it twice as unfair.
“Bunny...” he groaned helplessly, dragging a hand down his face. “Don't look at me like that. You're not helping.”
The tiny smile tugging at the corners of your lips gave you away. You knew exactly what you were doing.
Gojo pointed an accusing finger at you. “See? She's smiling. Enjoying my suffering, aren't you?”
“She absolutely is,” Toji muttered with a snort.
Nanami let out a slow breath, sounding thoroughly over the entire conversation. That was enough. He held out his hand toward you. “Ready?”
You nodded with a smile, slipping your fingers into his without a second thought.
“Wait—no—c'mon, just lemme come too...” Gojo hurried after the two of you the second you started walking. “I'll be good! I can third-wheel! Please.... I'll even sit at another table!”
“No.”
“But I—”
“No.”
The front door swung open. Gojo lunged towards it. Nanami led you outside without so much as another glance over his shoulder. “Goodnight, kids.”
The door clicked shut. Right in Gojo's face. He stood there for a long moment with his forehead resting against the wood before letting out defeated sigh. “…Unbelievable.”
Toji barked out a laugh as he wandered into the kitchen, reaching for the fridge. “Cry louder.”
Gojo had his face still planted against the front door. “I swear to God, I'm gonna start an OnlyFans out of spite.”
Toji slammed the fridge shut with a loud thud. “'Bout what I'd expect from a whore.”
“EXCUSE ME?!”
***
The city shimmered around you, golden lights reflecting in the windshield of Nanami’s sleek black car as he drove through the traffic with the same steady focus he seemed to have for everything.
God, he looked good. Who the hell looks that attractive just driving a car?
The suit definitely wasn't helping. Neither were his glasses, or the expensive watch sitting perfectly on his wrist. Everything about him was so... Nanami. Clean and composed. Effortlessly hot without even trying.
Your brain, however, had been stuck on what happened few minutes ago. The second you'd climbed into the passenger seat, your dress had ridden up way higher than you meant it to. You swear you caught him cussing under his breath before he leaned across to buckle your seatbelt himself. His fingers brushed your bare thigh for a second before he pulled away and started the car like nothing had happened.
The drive stayed quiet after that.
His hand rested on the gear shifter, and every time he changed gears, his knuckles brushed your knee for the briefest moment before disappearing again. It was probably accidental.....
Then there were the looks.
He didn’t say much, but kept glancing at you. Each one longer, lingering at the red of your lipstick, the curve of your thighs, the deep valley of your cleavage barely contained by the dress.
You couldn't quite figure out what was actually happening. It felt too hot inside the car. Calm on the surface, but burning underneath, like the air itself was teasing you.
It’s not like this was new with Nanami. It's not like you were some fresh couple going for a first date.
He has fucked you dumb more times than you could ever count. He has held you all night, nothing but bare bodies tangled up till morning light hit. Have done every intimate thing a man and woman can do, yet still... your heart was still pounding like it was the very first date with the hottest man alive. Just sitting next to him in this car had you giddy, as if you were some pure thing who’s never been ruined by him before.
It's been quiet for a while now.
Streetlights swept across in slow intervals, painting gold over his face before disappearing again. You found yourself stealing glance after glance at him, unable to help it.
Nanami looked... different.
Somewhere between, he'd gotten a haircut. It wasn't anything big, just enough to clean up the edges, and he'd shaved too. Maybe he did it himself. His jaw looked sharper somehow, the clean lines only making him look even more handsome than usual.
Your fingers twitched in your lap, wanting to reach over and touch his face. So bad. Just once would be enough. Maybe brush your thumb along his jaw and see if it was as smooth as it looked. But he was driving and you didn't want to distract him.
“What?” his voice pulled you clean out of your thoughts.
“Hmmm?” you blinked, turning to him.
“What're you thinking about?”
“Oh...” you laughed nervously, looking away for a second. “Nothing.”
He didn't buy it at all. There was the faintest hint of amusement on his face as he kept one hand steady on the wheel. His watch caught the passing streetlights every few seconds, glinting softly against his wrist.
“You were thinking about something.”
“Well...” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “Kind of.”
“About who?” he paused for just a beat before adding, too casually—“Gojo?”
“What?” your head whipped toward him so fast it made him chuckle. “Noo!”
“No?”
“No!”
A quiet laugh escaped him. “Miss him already?”
You stared at him, completely baffled. “Nanamin...” you whined, pouting as you lightly nudged his arm. “I'm literally with you right now. Why would I be thinking about anyone else?”
That seemed to catch him off guard. His brows lifted just slightly before the smallest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh?” he murmured. “My pretty girl getting feisty?”
“Yeah, because you're teasing me.”
“Was I?”
“Yeah.”
“I don't recall.”
You let out a soft groan and folded your arms, turning toward the window with a huff. The silence lasted all of five seconds.
“Oh?” Nanami said, unable to hide the smile in his voice. “Now you don't want to look at me?”
You tried your very best to ignore him.
“A minute ago, you couldn't stop staring.”
“I wasn't staring.”
“No?”
“No!”
He finally glanced over at you while the car waited at a red light, expression calm as ever. “Wanna lie to my face?”
You held his gaze for exactly two seconds before your resolve crumbled. “…Fine.”
“Thought so.” He looked back at the road. “So,” he said, the corners of his lips still turned up slightly, “what was the reason?”
You fidgeted with the fabric of your dress. “It's just... well.. did you shave?”
His hand came up instinctively, fingertips brushing over his chin before settling back on the steering wheel.
“I did. What about it?”
You looked at him again, this time without trying to hide it. “…Nothing.” You pause for a bit, eyes still on him. “I just think you look really good.”
The confession slipped out so quietly you almost hoped he hadn't heard it. Instead, a low chuckle filled the car.
“Is that so?”
You nodded, suddenly finding the view out the windshield incredibly interesting. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, when the road ahead cleared, he lifted his hand from the steering wheel just long enough to gently pat the top of your head, his touch warm and fond before returning it to the wheel.
That tiny gesture was enough to leave your heart fluttering for the rest of the drive.
***
Once you arrived, the valet took the keys, and Nanami held out his hand for you. You took it, the touch familiar and foreign all at once.
Inside the restaurant, the lighting was low and amber-gold, soft music playing in the background. But the moment you walked through the door, few pairs of eyes trailed after you, some of them subtle, others not. Of course, he noticed.
Without saying a word, he stepped closer behind you, hand pressing firm to your back, guiding you to the table. The touch said "mine" loud enough to echo. When one waiter stared too long at your legs, Nanami leaned in and pressed his lips against your ear.
“You alright, love?” he whispered, just loud enough for the waiter to hear. The waiter immediately looked away.
Dinner was... nice.
Nanami ordered for you and every single dish that arrived happened to be one of your favorites. Honestly, you weren't even surprised. Sometimes you swore this man knew your likes and dislikes better than you knew them yourself.
You did most of the talking.
College, friends, that annoying professor, the place near campus that had the best pasta you've ever had... you just kept rambling while he listened quietly, occasionally humming or asking something small to keep you going.
At one point, you realized you were barely giving him a chance to speak. Feeling a little awkward, you asked about his day instead, about work and how everything had been. He simply smiled, gave a small shake of his head, and answered, "Nothing important. Keep going."
So... you did.
He kept your wineglass topped up whenever it got low, listening more than he spoke, every bit the gentleman you'd always known him to be.
Even then, you couldn't help feeling a little flustered. Because Nanami just... wouldn't stop looking at you. His eyes were glued to your neckline, the way the chain on your dress framed the swell of your breasts. He was calm about it. But intense. His hand, meanwhile, rested on your thigh under the white-linen tablecloth. And slowly… agonizingly… it inched higher.
You stumbled over your words when his fingers squeezed just an inch above your knee.
“You were saying?” he asked, with a polite tone.
You tried to keep talking. Tried to look at the candle, at your food, at anywhere but him. But his fingers slid a little higher. Brushing the edge of your inner thigh now, enough to make you stop breathing.
“You’re blushing,” he said simply.
“I-I’m not.”
“Hmm.” His thumb stroked your skin slowly. “I think you are.”
This man and his goddamn composure…
If it were Toji, he wouldn't even have waited a full ten minutes. You’d be bent over the counter in the restroom by now, dress up around your waist while he’s splitting you open from behind, bullying that poor cunt until you’re creaming down his cock.
Gojo won't even give a single fuck about privacy. He’d just pull you onto his lap right there at the table, long fingers slipping under your dress and panties, rubbing slow circles over your clit, patting your wet folds, then pinching it just enough to be a mean prick.
Geto… well that man would be just as filthy. Dragging you into some alley where the risk of someone walking by is way too high. Spreading your legs apart, throwing one thigh over his shoulder as he drops to his knees and tongue fucks your pussy, all while you’re panicking and glancing around, because literally anyone could see. He doesn’t care, though. In fact, he loves how tense and soaked it makes you.
All those bastards would’ve made a mess of you.
But Nanami?
Nope. Atleast not yet.
He’s still sitting there, eyes calm like he isn’t aware of how badly you need him. He’s patient. Torturously so.
“Good girls don’t cum at the dinner table,” he said during dessert, as his fingers finally grazed your panties under the table. “You’ll wait. Like a lady.”
You nodded quickly. After the last bite, he surprised you.
“Do you want dessert?” he asked.
“… Didn’t we just have—?”
“I meant ice cream,” he said, already motioning the waiter. “You love it, yeah?”
Your face lit up. “Yeah...”
Few minutes later, it was placed in front of you. You took a bite, humming softly. He watched your lips wrap around the spoon.
“You really like vanilla, don’t you?” he said, resting his chin on his hand.
“Yeah, it's good.”
“You know,” he said, swirling the last sip of wine in his glass, “people always say vanilla's boring.” He looked at you then, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
“It isn't. The more you have it... the more you appreciate it.”
You blinked at him, brows knitting together as heat slowly crept up your neck. Was he... thinking what you were thinking?
Nanami, of course, gave nothing away. He simply slid the wineglass away, and offered you his neatly folded napkin like the gentleman he always was.
Later, as the two of you walked back toward the car, your arm looped comfortably through his, Nanami spoke out of nowhere.
“Do you still read smut?” His tone was so casual you'd think he was asking about the weather.
You nearly stumbled in your heels. “W-what smut?”
Nanami came to a stop. He looked down at you, the look alone made it painfully obvious he wasn't gonna buy any bullshit. No point trying.
“…I mean…” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. “No... not really...”
“You do. I caught you reading it once. Had a spanking scene.” His hand drifted to your waist, resting there as he continued walking. “Very detailed, if I remember correctly.”
A quiet chuckle slipped out before he could stop it. “I also remember exactly how many times I made you count.”
Your eyes dropped to the ground quickly. His gaze was impossible to hold for long. “Y-you're mean...”
“That so?”
The ride back was quiet.
Nanami kept one hand on the wheel while the other rested near your thigh again, close enough that every little movement made you painfully aware of it. Every now and then, you'd catch him looking. Your lips. The lipstick he'd picked out himself, now a little smudged after dinner. The slit of your dress that had crept higher than before, exposing just enough skin to keep dragging his eyes back.
He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. You knew that look. It was the same one he'd been giving you all night.
Like he'd been patient long enough.
Tonight, you had a feeling he had something else in mind.
so smthng pretty big going on at work rn, and tbh it's a lot more than i can handle. i've been having really bad anxiety attacks over it, idk if i'm just overreacting or what, but when it happens i genuinely can't get myself under control.
everything feels really uncertain rn, and don't know how any of this is gonna turn out. so i probably won't be posting or interacting for a few days.
if it all ends up being nothing and everything works out, i'll be back soon. if it's nottt... i might disappear for a while. 🙁
