This story contains smut, sex, underage drinking, cursing. I finally made a smut story cause I’ve been writing fluff for the past few days and I’m so excited for this one!! This has some typos so don’t mind😭 and my grammar’s also bad. And if you like this one, I’ll make a part two! Also, thank you for the support on my Sae stories, I really appreciate everything🤍! Now enjoy!!
Satoru Gojo. Huh. The name that had been running around school for years. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole city knew who he was. I mean, he was like- hella hot! Every girl’s dream guy! He was a player. A new night, a new girl. And it was usual. He had everything he wanted. Money, girls, friends, cars, sex- anything!
But that didn’t stop him from being connected to his family. Actually- for his mom to connect him with the family despite all his grumpy protests, tantrums, and pouts.
So here he was, in his mom’s car, in the back seat, driving to his grandma that lived on a farm. His mom was dropping him off there for over the summer so he can take a break from parties.
And Satoru? He wasn’t really thrilled with the plan… to say at least.
I mean- sure he loves his granny, who doesn’t? But THREE WHOLE MONTHS ON A FARM IN A SMALL TOWN? Yeah- that wasn’t gonna do it.
But what could he do? He tried everything to make his mom change her mind! But nothing worked.
The road the car crossed was bumpy. The houses around were small with big, green gardens and huge, red byres filled with cows, pigs, horses…
Satoru was leaning on the car window frame, looking outside the open widow while his silky white hair swayed under the small breeze.
The sunset was setting. The mosquitoes were flying around everywhere, the bells on the cow’s neck jingled with each step and some cheeky song was playing on the radio.
Then, the car stopped. He exited, getting his bags, and closing the door behind. Not even bothering to say bye to his mom like the brat he was. So yeah, remember, let’s just get this over with.
He sighs, hesitating, before knocking twice on the door.
There’s a beat of silence before small footsteps can be heard from the house. Then, the doorknob twists and the doors open.
His grandma, a small woman with the same white hair as his and a pair of glasses stands in the doorway with a smile.
“Oh, darling! Look at you!! You’ve grown up so much!”
He smiles slightly, not the usual cocky, confident smile, but a real one, just for his granny.
“Hey grans. Missed ya.”
The older lady moves to the side with a wide smile, gesturing him to come in.
“Come in, darling!”
Satoru steps inside, a small house smelling on lavender and chocolate chip cookies. The furniture is mostly in many colours, and walls are decorated with many paintings of flowers and horses.
✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧
AFTER HE SETTLED
Satoru was lying in bed a few hours after he settled in, staring at the ceiling cause the house had no wifi.
Then, his granny called him from downstairs.
“Toru!! Can you come down, pie? I need some help in the farm!”
He groaned under his breath but eventually stood up and headed downstairs.
Downstairs, his granny was waiting as she said softly
“Here is my sweetheart! Can you go feed the horses?”
Satoru froze. FEED THE HORSES? Don’t those things eat like… I don’t know, poop?
He stared blankly at his granny, like she just grew a second head.
“Um, okay… uh… do they eat from bowls?”
His granny burst out laughing.
“From a bowl? Oh pie!! You have hay in the back of the byre!”
Satoru blinked, but didn’t question it, he just went to the byre.
Inside the byre it was actually nice for people who lived in this area. But for him? Oh, it was horror.
Horses were in behind their wooden doors, everything stank on shit, and there was so much hay in the back it could feed every byre in town.
He put fingers on his nose, going towards hay.
Then you appeared in the door.
“Uh, hey? Um, I’m here for my daily walk with them?”
To elaborate, you were a girl his granny payed to go on rides with her horses daily so they’re not always in the byre.
Satoru turned around, then a confident grin appeared on his face. Usual.
“Well hello there, sweet cheeks.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Uh, gross? Anyway, are they fed?”
He blinked, remembering that he hadn’t even fed them! But he had to impress you!! So he lied.
“Uh, yeah!! Hungry little buds!”
You didn’t question how cheeky he was, you just opened the door and took the horses.
He just watched, then blurted out.
“Hey?! You leaving?!”
You turned around and looked at him unimpressed.
“Yeah?”
You climbed on a horse with one movement, and he couldn’t help but stare.
-oh god, her ass was BIG.-
He thought. Tilted his head for a better view. The sway of your hips, how those short shorts exposed your thighs and hugged your ass while sitting on a horse…-no! Bad mind!
Satoru cleared his throat, suddenly feeling the hardness in his pants. He shifted from foot to foot, an unusual, awkward act.
“Uh… so can I get your name or what? I wanna know who works for my grans!”
You turned your head around.
“Y/n.”
He memorised the name, a beat of silence passing before he catches himself staring again!
“Oh- I’m Satoru Gojo.”
You tilted your head slightly, as if studying him.
“So, you coming to that party on the beach tonight?”
Satoru blinked. A party on a beach? Hell yeah! That was his field! But- he didn’t have anyone to go with? Not without his frat bros!
“Um, yeah! Duh! You going?”
You chuckle.
“Of course! So I guess I’ll see you there then?”
He nodded, almost too eagerly. Then grinned again.
“See ya there, sweet cheeks. Don’t miss me too much.”
You just turned around and went away on the horse.
He could only stare, thinking.
-Why am I staring like a looser? She should stare after me, not the other way around! And I’m going to a party huh? Nice, if there’s chicks here. Oh- shit. I haven’t fed the horses. Um, the grans won’t know!-
He went back in the house.
“Grans I’m back! There was some girl who took your horses to their ride!”
The granny was baking in the kitchen.
“Okay, pie.”
He cleared his throat.
“So… I heard the place is very good for late night walks?”
The granny nodded.
“Yes, pie. It’s very beautiful in the evening, but it’s chilly!”
He chuckled, then added.
“So I also heard there’s some party by the beach?”
The granny turned to him with a knowing smile.
“Don’t stay too late, and don’t tell your mom!”
He smiled, and nodded.
“Yes ma’am!”
Then he went upstairs as she watched him amused.
────୨ৎ────
IN THE EVENING
In the evening, Satoru put on his usual white tank top, with some red basketball shorts and slippers, getting a pack of cigarettes he hid into his pocket and a lighter. When he was ready, he exited the house.
The air was chilly, the sky was full of stars that looked like little polka dots on the navy blue canvas. The streets were dark and lonely, only the beach was in the sight along with the other houses in the neighbourhood. So he headed down the road.
When Satoru arrived, it was actually a big party. The music was blasting loudly. It was so loud it was like the speakers bounced with the bass. The sand was dry, and the air was filled with the smell of alcohol, smoke, and the salt from the sea.
And there you were. In a short, tight dress that hugged your every curve, and hell it drove him crazy!!
Satoru stood dumbfounded for a moment, before approaching you with a cocky grin.
“Hey there, sweet cheeks. Tryna drive me mad?”
You turned around, looking up at him.
“Hey? And you’re gross.”
His smirk just grew wider as he tucked a stand of your hair behind your ear.
“Don’t deny it, sweet cheeks. I saw you lookin’ earlier.”
He teases with a wink.
You chuckle.
“Looking at what exactly?”
He blinks, shit. He couldn’t lie! So he slung an arm around your shoulders.
“How about we get ya a drink, huh?”
You looked up at him, not really used to his touch.
He looked down at you, meeting your eyes. And for a moment none of you spoke.
Which was strange.
Satoru always had something to say.
A stupid joke. A cocky comment. Anything.
But now he was just looking at you.
The music faded into the background, drowned out by the crashing waves behind you.
“What?” you asked quietly.
His grin softened.
“Nothin’.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re staring.”
“Can you blame me?”
Heat crept up your neck.
Before you could come up with a comeback, his gaze dropped briefly to your lips.
Then back to your eyes.
Waiting.
Giving you the chance to pull away.
You didn’t.
His hand shifted from your shoulder to your jaw, thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.
“Sweet cheeks,” he murmured, suddenly lacking all of his usual confidence, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”
You laughed softly.
And that was when he leaned in.
His plump, juicy lips brushed lightly against yours at first, not quite a kiss yet.
But when you didn’t pull away?
He immediately pressed them onto yours.
The kiss was hungry, lips moving against yours like he was drowning in you. His hands slid to yours waist, pulling you closer till there was no space between yours bodies. Your arms wrapped around his neck, as you kissed him back, melting into the embrace.
The bass around them faded into the background noise. His lips tasted like champagne and a hint of mint. His tongue moved with yours like a tango dance between the kisses.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours as he whispered breathlessly.
“Damn, sweet cheeks. You’re making me bricked as fuck.”
You panted slightly from the kiss, as you whispered back against his lips.
“Then we can go to my place. I’m alone.”
Satoru didn’t waste a second after that sentence. He picked you up, hooking his hands under your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you through the streets, footsteps slightly hurried.
He knew your house because it was the one across his grandmother’s. So he went straight in that direction.
When they reached the doorstep, you handed him the keys as he fumbled hurriedly with them.
Doors finally opened as he entered inside, locked them, and pinned you against the closed doors.
Hands were mapping every inch of your body, sliding under the dress and exploring. One hand squeezed your breast under the bra, pinching the nipple gently before smoothing it with his thumb, while the other hand was gripping your ass cheek, hips bucking up against yours as he breathed out.
“Hell, sweetheart- I need my cock inside you right fucking now because I’m so hard it hurts.”
You responded with a small whimper, and he didn’t even wait. He headed to the bedroom right that second, tossing you onto the mattress before climbing over you.
“Arms up.”
You lifted your arms obediently, as he took off the fabric of your dress over your head, then on the floor, taking off your bra… his pants… and before you knew it, you were both naked.
Satoru’s lips found yours into another deep kiss, while he slid two fingers inside you, stretching you out.
You moaned, nails digging into the muscles on his back.
He immediately swallowed every sound with his mouth, fingers curling faster.
But he couldn’t wait till you came on his cock, so he flipped you onto your back, pushing his penis into you roughly, earning a rough cry teared from your lips.
Your back arched as he pushed harder, faster. Your ass jiggling with each thrust. And the only sounds in the room where his groans, your moans and cries, and the sound of your skin clapping against his with each rough thrust.
Satoru’s fingers curled more into your clit, adding a third finger inside you.
You moaned loudly, fists gripping the sheets.
“Ahh-!… S-Satoru, please… ngh-…!”
He leaned down, teeth gazing your shoulder, sucking on a mark that will definitely be there for days.
“Hm? What sweetheart? Uh-… you feel so good…”
He felt you clench around him as he grinned, pushing harder.
“Hm, you love when I talk, yeah? You gonna cum on me, my little slut?”
You moaned louder, burying your face into the mattress.
Then suddenly, he pulled outside, then laid on his back, pulling you by your hips on top of his lap, again inside you.
“Come on, sweet cheeks. I saw how good you ride my gran’s horses.”
Your back faced him, as you turned your head to look at him, then slowly, you started riding.
His eyes rolled, as his head flew back on the pillow, he groaned.
“Ngh- darling… oh y-yes, fuck yes, you’re so good, baby…”
Satoru’s hands gently guided you, rolling his hips with yours until you both found a rhythm.
He felt you clench around him again as he managed out breathlessly.
“Gonna cum on me, baby? Hm?”
You couldn’t take it anymore, as you cum all over his cock.
He groaned again, hands gripping your hips so hard it might leave bruises.
Then he looked at you, and gently lied you on his chest, slowly pulling out of you.
Satoru looked at you, really looked. At your flushed cheeks, closed eyelids, lips parted as you panted, and the sight was oddly beautiful.
Usually when he was done with his flings, he would look at their body, or just leave.
But he wasn’t looking at your body, he looked straight at your face with a cheeky, lovestruck smile on his face.
He pulled the blankets over you, brushing a damp stand of your hair from your forehead, touch surprisingly gentle.
Maybe the farm wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe the problem was never the place — maybe he just needed the right person to make it feel like home.
Okay, so this is part two that was requested! It’s kinda ahh but still. And I think it could be read without the part one but the part one gives more vibes. So yeah it’s reader x Sae. A fem reader. And I’ll make more like these or something else just say! I don’t know the word count I’m too lazy for that. And this is no nsfw, more like fluff.
Ⓔⓝⓙⓞⓨ!
After some days in school, for Sae, it was pure torture.
He was getting unusually bullied and humiliated, except when he was on the field.
But to add to everything that was happening, he realized he didn’t even know Spanish well. When his mom in Japan told him to learn it, he’d always say:
“I don’t need it. I’ll play football, not have a tea party.”
And now?
He regretted not learning it.
But he would never say that out loud, obviously.
So here Sae was, standing in the hallway in front of the main school board, looking at a paper that read:
“Spanish Tutoring, in the library every day after classes!”
-Tch, a tutor? I don’t need a tutor. I’m fine. And I’m the one people should learn from, not the other way around!-
He thought stubbornly.
But oh boy, he was about to fail his Spanish class because he didn’t know anything.
That evening, he went to his late-night training, kicking balls into the net and practicing his direct shot while talking to himself.
Weird.
“Stupid Spanish. Why do I even need it? I’m fine with my English! I mean, everyone can understand me anyway. And those who can’t are mediocre.”
He shot a ball angrily.
It flew straight into the goal.
“And that ‘so good tutor’ couldn’t even say who it was!”
THE NEXT DAY…
Another day, another hell.
He walked through the hallway, still a little pissed.
And he wasn’t pissed at anyone directly.
He was pissed because he wouldn’t admit that he really needed those lessons.
The bell rang.
Next class.
Spanish.
Shit.
He entered the classroom and sat down, not bothering to look at anyone.
The teacher entered, and he looked up.
“Good morning, everyone! I graded your tests!”
Sae froze.
TESTS?
Shit, shit, and shit.
-Okay, maybe I didn’t do SO bad? What if it’s actually good?-
He thought.
On the outside, his face was cold, like always.
But inside, he was sweating through his balls.
Then the teacher handed him his test.
His eyes widened.
-THREE OUT OF A HUNDRED??-
Oh well.
At least it was a three.
I mean…
✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧
So yeah.
After classes that day, here he was.
In the library.
Looking for the mysterious tutor with that flyer still clutched in his hand.
On the flyer, it said the tutor referred to themselves as “Señora,” so he obviously thought they were a girl.
And he was right.
There you were.
Sitting at a corner table in your school uniform skirt that suited you so well his eyes nearly bugged out of his head whenever you walked past.
The ribbon in your hair was slightly crooked on one side, somehow making you look even prettier.
He swallowed and slowly took a few steps forward.
Sae stopped in front of your table and cleared his throat, the flyer still clutched tightly in his hand.
“Hi… are you the tutor for Spanish?”
You looked up at him and smiled softly.
“Yeah. Take a seat if you’d like.”
He hesitated.
What was he doing?
He was supposed to be at practice.
But sitting next to you, hearing your sweet voice and seeing that gentle smile on your lips…
The thought wasn’t so bad.
Not that he’d ever admit that.
So he slowly took a seat beside you, his heart pounding so hard against his ribs that he wouldn’t have been surprised if you could hear it.
You pulled your books and notebook from your bag.
Highlighters in every shade of soft pink.
Notes neat and clean.
Little flowers decorating the top corners of the pages.
Sae could only stare.
Suddenly, he felt oddly out of place.
He pulled out his own crumpled notebook.
His handwriting was messy.
The pages were torn like someone had chewed on them.
He only had one pen that barely worked and a single textbook from school.
But you didn’t seem to mind.
It looked like you were used to helping people.
“So,” you asked politely, “what do you struggle with the most?”
He opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
That…
He hadn’t thought about that.
What did you mean, what did he struggle with?
He struggled with Spanish.
That was why he was there.
So he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.
“Uh… I… maybe the last lesson…?”
The truth was that he had no idea what the last lesson was.
Or the lesson before that.
Or the one before that.
You blinked in surprise.
“Oh. Okay. Sure, we can start with that.”
And then you started teaching.
You talked and rambled about grammar, vocabulary, and lessons that made absolutely no sense to him.
The words swirled around his head like alphabet cereal floating in milk.
He tried to listen.
Really.
Maybe he even learned something.
But every now and then, his attention drifted.
His gaze would wander to your face.
To the way you smiled when explaining something.
To the shine of the pink lip gloss on your lips.
Then he’d immediately force himself to look away.
Why was he even paying attention to that?
You continued talking, completely unaware of the crisis happening inside his head.
An hour passed.
An entire hour.
And Sae wasn’t entirely sure he understood a single thing.
Then you finally closed your notebook.
“Okay. So, should we check?”
CHECK?
Sae froze.
His eyes snapped back to yours.
Oh God.
What now?
He couldn’t exactly tell you that he’d spent the last hour staring at you instead of learning Spanish.
So he did the only thing he could.
He guessed.
“Um… I-I remember the, uh… ¿Cómo te llamas?… And… rojo, azul y verde…?”
You blinked.
Then laughed.
“That wasn’t the last lesson, but sure. At least you learned something!”
The tips of his ears turned pink, though it was mostly hidden beneath his hair.
He quickly looked away, embarrassed.
But also…
Kind of proud.
Not that he’d ever admit that either.
You began packing your books into your bag, carefully sliding the highlighters back into their case.
“Same time tomorrow?” you asked.
Sae looked down at the scattered notes on the table.
Truthfully, he hadn’t learned much.
Well…
He had learned some colors.
And how to ask for someone’s name.
And maybe a few other things.
But mostly, he’d learned that spending an hour with you didn’t feel nearly as exhausting as spending an hour with anyone else.
His fingers tightened slightly around his pen.
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
You smiled.
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Tomorrow.
For some reason, the word sounded nice.
You stood up and slung your bag over your shoulder before giving him a small wave.
“Bye, Sae!”
Then you walked away.
Sae remained seated for a moment, watching until you disappeared around the corner of the library.
The corners of his lips twitched upward ever so slightly.
Spain still sucked.
His classmates were still annoying.
His Spanish was still terrible.
And he was probably still going to fail his next test.
So this is fluff, no nsfw, no angst. It’s short just to make me feel better cause I lost my peak Choso fic I spent two hours making. So expect an even better one. There’s no spoilers. And in this the divine dogs are just normal dogs. So stay turned and recommend more!! Say what should I do next, a nsfw or angst?
☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝓔𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂! ✧₊⁺⋆☽
Evening was dark. Chilly, winter breeze flew through the empty streets. And of course, Megumi’s teacher, or something close to a father figure said he should go on a patrol.
So here he was, grumpy frown plastered on his unfairly beautiful face. Sitting on a bench with his little, four-legged buddies next to him. His divine dogs.
As much as the name ‘divine dogs’ sounded absurd for a pair of dogs, it was true. They were divine.
Tall, toned bodies, long legs, sharp white teeth. Incredible senses. Long, smooth and neat fur. One white, one black. Like ying and yang in dogs’ form!
And tonight, his little boys were hungry. And like every dog, they wanted treats.
They stood at Megumi’s legs, rubbing their heads against his knees and looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes that screamed:
“Buy us treats if you love us! Hmpf!”
So with a grumpy sigh and rolled eyes, Megumi eventually stood up.
“Fine. But only cause there’s a pet shop nearby.”
The dogs immediately perked up. Like the switch went on. The followed him excitedly, jumping around him happily and wagging their little tails.
When they reached the pet shop, the air inside was a little warmer. The smell was like dog treats, and toys, and little bunny cages.
Megumi straightened his shirt slightly, and when he looked up, his divine dogs were nowhere to be seen.
Weird? They never escaped him! Hell, they never even left his side!! So where were they?!
Then, he looked around a bit, only to see his divine dogs being petted by an employee. You.
And damn did his heart skip a beat. Okay, maybe two beats but we’re being subtle!
He approached, as one of his dogs let out a small happy bark, immediately demanding belly rubs from you.
When you saw a shadow approaching, you looked up, only to be greeted by a tall, good-looking man with a grumpy but handsome expression on his smooth face.
But despite Megumi standing right in front of you, you and his dogs continued your belly-rub session.
You smiled politely at him, and spoke softly.
“Good evening, how can I help you tonight?”
He looked down at you, and something weird was going on inside him. Some kind of stupid, sappy feeling spreading across his chest upon seeing you with his dogs. Silly.
-You don’t even know her name! Get a grip, Megumi!-
He thought. But it was worthless. So he cleared his throat and said lowly.
“Do you-uh.. what dog treats do you have?”
You stood up slowly, his divine dogs getting up too, jumping to him. You approached the dog treat section, and grabbed a small bag.
“You can tell me which one do they prefer. On the right are for small dogs and on the left for the big.”
Megumi looked at the treats blankly. To him, every single one looked the same. So he pointed at two treats.
“You can mix those.”
You put the treats in the bag carefully, walking over to him.
You hand him the bag and pet his dogs again with a light chuckle.
“That can be on the house. Your dogs are too cute to pay! And also, you should probably get them some better shampoo. They’re leaving fur everywhere.”
Meguni frozed. Free treats? A shampoo? He never really thought about his dogs leaving fur. He thought it was just what they do? I mean, silly dog-thingys?
He looked down at you with a respectful nod.
“Uh, thank you.”
His eyes immediately flicker down to you again as you chuckle softly, and with a wink you said.
He turned the bag slightly in his hands and saw something written on it… a number? And a heart? Was that your number?
So this is my first story, feel free to recommend more!! This is young Sae so there’s obviously no nsfw, sorry. Word count: around 1k I don’t know for sure, lol.
Enjoy!
Ever since Sae was just a little boy, he always played football. And his little brother, Rin, was always looking up to him. They made a pact that they’ll become the best together.
So Sae, as the amazing player for such a young age as he was, eventually got promoted and called to Spain. So logically, he had to go to school there too, right? But who cares about classes when you’re the best at football? That’s what he thought.
Sae arrived in Spain. He had an apartment, his schedule already full with training two times every day, school, homework, and barely any free time. And of course, he should’ve expected that even if he did train for Re Al, he still had to go to a normal school. Not a private one like he used to.
So here he was, on his first day, in his uniform, and with that cheap smell of it clinging to his nerves, he almost broke a locker out of rage. Almost. So he tried to find his locker, and that was just the first impossible mission on his track.
He swam his way through the crowd, his bangs swaying with each step. But he forgot one fact: in this school, he wasn’t the untouchable Sae. He was just a new Japanese geek with bangs and an obsession with football.
As he crossed through the hallway, he somehow finally found his locker, but when a smaller figure next to his locker turned around, he felt something, or someone, bump against his chest and a forehead bump against his chin. He froze, looking down as his heart stopped.
For some utterly pathetic, lukewarm reason, his brain sent the butterflies in his stomach off the leash. He looked into your eyes, god, those eyes… staring up at him like they were reading his soul from page to page.
He quickly cleared his throat, realizing how awkwardly he’d been staring. Weird.
“Uh, watch where you’re going.”
He said, trying to reach his usual sharp, pointed tone, but failing.
You look up at him.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
He blinks at you slowly, like he’s just trying to control two things at the same time. Processing your question and hating this stupid feeling that was making him oddly… what was the word again… soft.
A scoff escapes past his lips, not at you, but at the fact that he actually enjoys talking to you!
“Yeah, just get out of the way.”
You raise an eyebrow. Well, that was rude. But thinking about it, there are a lot of mean people around the school, so yeah. No surprise.
“Um, no? This is my locker.”
You say, pointing at the locker next to his.
Sae looks at the locker. Oh shit. That means he’ll see you every. single. morning.
He slowly processes the fact, forcing his natural glare back, but even he can barely hide the hint of surprise that flickers in his eyes. But it vanishes as fast as it came.
Simply, he opened his locker and got his books out. But then, his moment of peace was broken by a sound from behind. A group of dudes.
To elaborate, like in every school, there’s that popular group of people who go around the school and usually target the newcomers to tease them. Mock them. And they can keep up the relentless ridicule all year if they could.
So yeah, that’s the group of dudes. And the laughter and words that came from them were something Sae hadn’t heard up until now.
“Yo bro, look at that newbie over there. His bangs look like he uses rollers on them!”
They all laugh. Then another one adds loudly.
“Did your mom give you a cut, or did you want the angry-birds-come-to-life cut?”
They laugh even harder.
Sae’s face stays like it always did. But inside his brain? Something indescribable is going on.
-What about my bangs? Are they even that bad? No, they’re not! Maybe I never noticed?-
He thought. To be honest, he was always the untouchable one at school, on the field, at training, everywhere! There’s no way someone could bully Sae Itoshi in Japan!! But yeah, this was Spain. Another country.
And like a rotten cherry on top of this bitter cake, you were witnessing and hearing all of that.
Sae couldn’t bear it. He closed the locker and went down the corridor, not even knowing where he was going.
His mind was spiraling with thoughts. Despite his stoic facade, he clutched his backpack straps like a lifeline.
After about fifteen minutes of spiraling down the hall, he finally found his first period: chemistry.
-God, I hate chemistry!-
To be honest, he hated every subject except PE. But sure, that works.
He took a deep breath, his hand trembling around the doorknob. He twisted it open and pushed the door open.
Inside, every head turned to him, including yours.
His eyes met yours immediately, his heart skipping about three beats before slamming so hard against his ribs he could hear it in his ears.
The teacher smiled politely, a nice middle-aged woman with a sweet voice.
“Hello there. So class, this is our new student. I hope you welcome him warmly! So, would you like to tell us a few things about yourself?”
He froze. Shit. He hadn’t even thought about the introduction. So he blurted out:
“Um, I’m Sae Itoshi, and I’m coming from Japan. I’m here because of football.”
The classroom stayed silent for a moment.
Then the teacher smiled.
“Well, that’s certainly straightforward.”
A few students chuckled.
Sae wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He just wasn’t used to that level of eyes on him unless it involved people gawking at him for his football skills.
“Alright then, Mr. Itoshi,” the teacher continued. “You can take the empty seat by the window.”
His stomach dropped.
The empty seat by the window.
The one right next to you.
Of course.
Sae walked down the aisle, trying to ignore the dozens of eyes following him. Every step felt heavier than the last. He could survive professional training sessions. He could survive matches against players older and stronger than him.
But somehow walking to a desk felt impossible.
When he reached the seat, you looked up from your notebook and offered him a small smile.
“Hi again.”
His brain immediately stopped functioning.
“…Hi.”
Great.
Amazing.
What a conversational masterpiece.
He sat down quickly and pulled out his books, pretending to be very interested in chemistry.
He wasn’t.
Not even a little.
The lesson started, and for the first ten minutes everything was peaceful.
Then disaster struck.
“Class, you’ll be working in pairs for today’s assignment.”
Sae nearly slammed his head into the desk.
No.
Anything but that.
The teacher scanned the room.
“You can work with the person sitting next to you.”
Sae slowly turned his head.
You slowly turned yours.
“Guess we’re partners.”
He nodded once.
“Guess so.”
For the next few minutes, you worked through the assignment together.
Or rather, you worked.
Sae stared at the worksheet like it was written in ancient hieroglyphics.
You glanced over.
“Do you understand this part?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Then why did you write your name in the answer box?”
Another pause.
“…I thought that’s what we were supposed to do.”
You stared at him.
Then you laughed.
Actually laughed.
Not in a mean way.
Not like those guys in the hallway.
Just a genuine laugh.
For some reason, hearing it made the tight knot in his chest loosen.
A little.
“You really hate chemistry, don’t you?” you asked.
“I hate everything that’s not football.”
“That’s kind of dramatic.”
“It’s true.”
You smiled again.
There it was.
That stupid feeling.
That warm, annoying feeling that had been following him around since the locker incident.
Sae quickly looked away.
He was supposed to be focusing on football.
On training.
On becoming the best.
Not on the girl sitting next to him.
The rest of the lesson passed surprisingly fast.
When the bell finally rang, students immediately began packing their things.
Sae stood up, already preparing to escape.
“Hey.”
He looked back.
You were gathering your books.
“You know, those guys in the hallway were idiots.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“What?”
“The bangs thing.”
Heat rushed straight to his face.
“I wasn’t thinking about that.”
“Sure.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Okay.”
You were smiling again.
He hated how much he liked that smile.
“They’re not bad, by the way.”
For a second, Sae forgot how to speak.
Then, before you could see how flustered he suddenly felt, he turned away and slung his backpack over one shoulder.
“See you tomorrow.”
The words left his mouth before he could stop them.
Your eyes widened slightly.
Then you smiled.
“See you tomorrow, Sae.”
As he walked out of the classroom, one thought repeated itself over and over inside his head.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ frat!jo x frat!toji x nerdy fem!reader
gojo and toji make a bet to see who can get you first. they both lose the second you decide you want them both to fuck you stupid.
──── ୨୧ ────
you didn’t hate gojo satoru and toji fushiguro.
that would imply you cared enough to hate them.
you were too busy for that. you had rankings to maintain, scholarship requirements to meet, professors who already expected too much from you because you’d made the fatal mistake of being competent in front of them one too many times. you had a color coded calendar, three different highlighters in your bag, and a notes app full of reminders that looked like they belonged to someone with their life together.
so no, you did not have time to hate two frat boys who seemed to have made annoying you their shared extracurricular.
you just strongly disliked the way they kept appearing.
everywhere.
like campus cryptids, but hotter and somehow worse.
gojo was the loud one. everyone knew him. his white hair, stupid pretty face, pretty smile, always surrounded by people laughing at things that were probably not that funny. he had that rich boy confidence that made professors sigh before he even opened his mouth. he’d come late to class with sunglasses pushed into his hair, drop into his seat, borrow a pen, then score a ninety eight on the exam like god was personally grading on a curve for him.
toji was the quiet problem on the other hand...
different frat. different kind of reputation. less golden boy, more don’t get caught alone with him unless you mean it. he didn’t smile as much as gojo. didn’t need to. he had a lazy stare that did all the flirting for him, and a scar at the corner of his mouth that made every smirk look like a bad decision waiting to happen.
they were rivals.
the campus loved that
gojo’s frat threw a party? toji’s threw one louder the next weekend.
toji won an intramural game? gojo spent the next week loudly claiming the refs were paid off.
gojo got praised by a professor? toji would walk past and mutter, “teacher’s pet,” just loud enough for him to hear.
toji existed? gojo got irritating on principle.
and somehow, last semester, you got stuck with both of them in your study group.
you still considered it one of the universe’s personal attacks.
“no.”
that’s the first thing you say when gojo slides into the chair across from you in the library.
he hasn’t even spoken yet.
he blinks, offended. “wow. hello to you too.”
“no.”
“you don’t even know what i was going to say.”
“you were going to ask for my notes.”
gojo pauses.
you look up from your laptop.
he smiles. “okay, but in my defense-”
“no.”
“you’re so mean to me.”
“you survive.”
he leans forward, his chin in his palm, eyes bright and blue in that way that makes half the campus lose their minds. unfortunately for him, you have homework and self respect.
mostly…
“i don’t need your notes,” he says. “i just wanted to see you.”
you stare at him.
he stares back.
“that was worse,” you decide.
gojo laughs, loud enough that the girl two tables over looks up. you kick his shin under the table.
“ow.”
“library voice dumbass.”
“yes, ma’am.”
“don’t call me that.”
“noted.”
“you’re not writing anything down.”
he taps his temple. “mental notes.”
“empty document.”
his grin gets worse.
before you can insult him properly, the chair beside you scrapes back.
you don’t even have to look.
“absolutely not,” you say.
toji sits anyway, his big long legs spreading just enough that his knee almost bumps yours under the table. “missed you too.”
gojo’s smile drops half an inch. “fushiguro.”
“satoru.”
you slowly shut your laptop.
both of them look at it like you just cocked a gun.
“i have,” you say carefully, “a midterm in three days.”
gojo points at toji. “he started it.”
toji snorts. “i sat down.”
“aggressively.”
“you breathe aggressively.”
“you two are grown men,” you say. “allegedly.”
toji leans back, gaze sliding to your notebook. “still color coding everything?”
“still not passing classes?”
gojo makes a sound like he’s been stabbed. “oh, that was mean. do him again.”
toji’s mouth twitches.
you hate that gojo notices you noticing.
his eyes flick between you and toji, and then his grin comes back “interesting.”
you point your pen at him. “don’t.”
“i didn’t say anything.”
“your face did.”
toji looks amused now. “what’d his face say?” he leans in, looking with you
“nothing important,” you say, too quickly.
gojo’s grin turns evil.
you reopen your laptop and put your headphones back on with exaggerated calm.
neither of them leaves.
of course they don’t.
then your roommate invites you to a party.
and like an idiot, you go.
you almost turn around at the porch.
the house is already sweating from the inside out. bass rattles the windows. someone is yelling from the upstairs balcony. the front lawn has cups in the grass and two guys arguing over a ping-pong ball like it’s a custody battle.
“i hate this,” you say.
your roommate hooks her arm through yours. “you haven’t even gone in yet.”
“i’m very intuitive.”
“you look hot. stop being dramatic.”
you look down at yourself.
short black dress. boots. little jacket.
you do look hot.
which is annoying because now you can’t pretend you didn’t try.
inside, the air is humid and warm, smelling like alcohol, strong perfume, sweat, weed from somewhere you can’t see, and whatever sugary mixer someone used. the music is so loud it makes thinking feel optional.
you have one drink.
then half of another.
you’re not drunk. you know where you are, know what you’re doing, know your name and your major and the fact that monday-you is going to be furious. but you’re warm. loose. your shoulders aren’t up by your ears for once.
it’s nice.
scary, but nice.
you’re laughing at something your roommate says when her eyes flick over your shoulder.
“oh.”
you stop laughing. “what?”
“don’t turn around weird.”
so obviously you turn around weird.
gojo is across the room.
he’s leaning against the kitchen doorway with a red cup in one hand, a black shirt clinging to his shoulders, his white hair messy like he’s been touched by too many people tonight and still somehow looks untouched. his eyes are on you already.
when you catch him staring, he smiles.
not his usual big, irritating one.
slower.
like he’s been waiting.
your stomach drops.
then your roommate whispers, “other side.”
you look.
toji stands near the stairs.
also a dark shirt with his arms crossed and expression unreadable except for his eyes, which are very much readable and very much on your legs.
you look away first.
coward.
your roommate whispered, “they’re both staring like they made a plan or some shit”
they had.
you didn’t know that yet.
you didn’t know that ten minutes earlier, in the kitchen, gojo had seen you walk in and gone quiet mid sentence.
toji had followed his stare and laughed once. “there it is.”
gojo’s jaw had tightened. “what?”
“you look stupid.”
“you look jealous.”
“of you?”
gojo had taken a drink, eyes still on you. “bet she kisses me first.”
toji’s smile had been all teeth. “you need better fantasies.”
“scared?”
“bored.”
“then bet.”
toji had looked at you again…at the dress, the guarded set of your shoulders, the way you were pretending not to search the room for either of them.
then he’d said, “fine. whoever gets her first wins.”
gojo had grinned.
stupid, really.
both of them thinking either one would come out of this with anything close to control.
gojo reached you first.
“you came,” he said, leaning close enough that his voice slid under the music instead of fighting it.
“sadly.”
his eyes dropped to your mouth. “you look pretty unfortunate.”
“that was bad.”
“you smiled.”
“i had a muscle spasm.”
“on your mouth?”
“rare condition.”
he laughed, and you hated how much you liked the sound when it wasn’t being weaponized in the library.
then toji stepped in behind you.
you didn’t even hear him approach. you only felt the shift…the sudden awareness of another body at your back, warm and close but not touching.
“satoru,” toji said.
gojo’s smile sharpened. “fushiguro.”
“still bothering her?”
“she likes it.”
“she looks trapped.”
you turned your head. “i can speak for myself.”
toji looked down at you. “then speak.”
that should not have done anything to you.
it did.
gojo saw it.
toji saw gojo see it.
you hated everyone.
“i’m getting water,” you said.
“kitchen’s that way,” gojo said.
you went the opposite direction.
not your finest moment.
the hallway was cooler.
darker too, the party reduced to bass through walls and flashes of light from the living room. you leaned against the wall and took one breath. then another.
“you’re bad at running away.”
you opened your eyes.
gojo stood at the mouth of the hall, cup gone, hands in his pockets.
“you’re bad at taking hints,” you said.
“i took the hint.”
“and?”
“didn’t like it.”
you laughed despite yourself. “at least you’re honest.”
“with you? usually.”
that landed somewhere it shouldn’t have. he came closer, slow enough to give you space to move.
you didn’t.
“you okay?” he asked, voice turning softer.
you blinked. “yeah.”
“tipsy?”
“a little.”
“too tipsy for this?”
your pulse jumped. “for what?”
gojo’s eyes flicked to your mouth.
there was the answer.
quiet. obvious. sitting between you.
“no,” you said.
his breath changed.
“no, you’re not too tipsy?” he asked.
“no, i’m not too tipsy.”
“and if i kiss you?”
you looked at him for a long second, at the stupid beautiful face, the mouth you’d pretended not to notice for months, the sudden seriousness in his eyes.
“then i’ll probably kiss you back.”
gojo went still.
then he kissed you.
soft at first. almost careful. one hand coming up to your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek like he couldn’t believe you were letting him. it made something in your chest ache, which was unfair, because this was gojo and he was not supposed to make you ache anywhere emotional.
then you parted your lips.
and he stopped being careful.
his hand slid to your waist, pulling you against him. his tongue brushed yours, and the sound he made into your mouth was low and pretty and so hungry your knees nearly gave. you grabbed his shirt. he pressed closer. the wall was cool against your back; he was hot everywhere else.
“fuck,” he breathed, his mouth still touching yours. “you have no idea how long i wanted to do that.”
“probably since you realized i was smarter than you.”
he laughed into the next kiss. “so day one.”
you smiled against him.
then he kissed you deeper, and the smile disappeared.
his thigh slid between yours. not grinding, not forcing, just pressure. enough to make your breath catch. enough for him to feel it.
his hand tightened at your waist.
“oh,” he whispered. “there’s your true colors.”
“don’t be cocky.”
“too late.”
you pulled him down again because his mouth was less annoying when it was busy.
then someone said, “figures.”
gojo froze.
you turned your head.
toji stood a few feet away with one hand in his pocket, expression unreadable except for the fact that his eyes were not calm at all.
gojo’s hand stayed on your waist. “we’re busy.”
toji ignored him.
his eyes stayed on you. “are you?”
your breath caught.
gojo’s jaw tightened. “don’t.”
toji came closer anyway.
the hallway shrank around the three of you.
toji stopped in front of you, close enough that if you inhaled too deeply, you’d brush him. gojo was still behind you, one hand at your hip now, warm through the fabric of your dress.
“tell me no if you don’t want it,” toji said.
no teasing. no smirk.
just that low, deep voice and those dark green eyes.
your lips parted.
you didn’t say no.
you said, “i’m not saying that.”
toji’s mouth curved.
gojo cursed under his breath.
then toji pulled you to him and kissed you like he’d been waiting all semester to prove a point.
it was filthy from the start.
his hand spread across your lower back, slowly moving down to your ass, dragging you flush against him. his mouth opened yours with slow pressure, tongue sliding deep, scar brushing your lip every time he shifted. where gojo had sparked, toji burned low and heavy. he kissed like he had nowhere else to be and every intention of making you forget where you were.
you clutched his shirt.
behind you, gojo made a sharp sound.
toji broke the kiss only enough to look over your shoulder. “still think you won?”
gojo’s laugh was strained. “she kissed me first.”
“she’s holding onto me.”
“because you grabbed her.”
“because she let me.”
your face went hot.
gojo’s hand slid along your hip, his voice dropping near your ear. “did you?”
toji’s thumb brushed your jaw. “answer.”
the party pounded through the walls. someone shouted downstairs. your mouth was swollen from both of them, your head clear enough to know exactly how bad of an idea this was and warm enough to want it anyway.
“yes,” you said.
gojo inhaled sharply.
toji’s eyes darkened.
“guest room?” toji said.
gojo looked at you immediately. “yes or no?”
you looked between them.
you thought about your notes, your midterm, your perfect little calendar, your reputation as the girl who always made the smart choice.
then you said, “yes.”
the room upstairs was ugly.
ugly comforter. ugly lamp. ugly motivational poster on the wall that said grind now, shine later like a threat from a gym bro with poor taste.
you stared at it.
“if either of you says anything about that poster,” you said, “i’m leaving.”
gojo followed your gaze and immediately started laughing.
toji locked the door. “don’t give him ideas.”
“too late,” gojo wheezed.
you pointed at him. “satoru.”
he tried to stop laughing and failed for another three seconds. strangely, it helped. the tension cracked just enough for you to breathe.
then the room settled again.
door locked.
music muffled.
three bodies, too close.
gojo’s laughter faded first.
toji’s hands came to your waist from behind. not pulling. just there. heavy and warm.
gojo stood in front of you, eyes searching your face.
“still good?” he asked.
“yes.”
toji’s thumb pressed lightly into your hip. “say it clear.”
your stomach twisted.
“i want this,” you said. “i want both of you.”
gojo closed his eyes for half a second. “holy shit.”
toji’s mouth touched the side of your neck. “good.”
that one word did more damage than it should have.
gojo kissed you first, impatient now, big hands cupping your face. toji stayed behind you, mouth moving along your neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin while his fingers worked your jacket down your arms. the contrast made your brain short out -gojo’s mouth needy and wet, toji’s hands steady and sure, both of them crowding you until the room seemed to tilt.
gojo’s fingers found the zipper of your dress.
he stopped. “can i?”
you nodded.
he gave you a look.
right.
“yes,” you breathed. “take it off.”
toji’s hand tightened on your waist.
gojo pulled the zipper down slowly. too slowly. the sound seemed obscene in the quiet pocket between bass beats. the dress loosened around your chest, slipping down your shoulders, and for a second your nerves came back sharp and bright.
gojo noticed.
of course he did.
“hey,” he said, thumb brushing your cheek. “too much?”
you shook your head. “no. just… don’t stare like that.”
toji’s voice was low against your ear. “like what?”
like you’re hungry.
like you forgot this was a bet.
like this means something.
you didn’t say any of that.
gojo did stare, though, when the dress hit the floor.
not blankly. not like he was checking off body parts.
like he was trying to memorize you and getting mad at himself for wanting to.
toji was worse because he went quiet.
you looked back at him.
his eyes were on your face, not your body.
somehow that was more intimate.
“lets go to the bed,” he said.
your body listened before your pride could object.
they undressed you like they were arguing with their hands.
gojo knelt on the mattress beside you, kissing you until your thoughts went syrupy. toji spread your thighs with both palms and kissed the inside of one knee, then higher, then higher, dragging his mouth slowly enough to make you want to kick him.
“impatient,” toji murmured.
“observant-” you shot back, breathless.
gojo smiled against your mouth. “she still has jokes. we’re not doing enough.”
“give me a second.”
“i gave you several.”
“you want to do it?”
“yes.”
toji looked up at him.
gojo looked back.
the air changed.
“later,” toji said.
your thighs pressed together on instinct.
toji noticed and forced them open again, slow and easy.
“oh?” gojo said. “that’s what got you?”
“shut up.”
your voice was too weak for the words to land.
gojo’s hand slid behind your back and unclasped your bra after one clumsy attempt that made toji snort.
“don’t,” gojo snapped.
“didn’t say anything.”
“your face did.”
“sounds familiar…” you muttered.
gojo laughed, then stopped when the bra fell away.
his hand came up, not grabbing immediately. just hovering for half a second, like he needed permission all over again.
your chest tightened.
you took his wrist and put his hand on your breast.
the sound he made was soft and wrecked.
toji watched that. watched your fingers around gojo’s wrist, watched gojo’s thumb brush over your nipple, watched your back arch before you could pretend it didn’t.
then toji’s mouth touched you through your panties.
your hips jumped.
“toji-”
“yeah,” he said. “felt that.”
gojo leaned down and took your nipple into his mouth at the same time toji dragged your panties aside.
for a second, there was too much sensation to name.
wet glossy heat at your chest. rough fingers digging into your thighs. toji’s breath against the slickest part of you. gojo’s teeth grazing gently before his tongue soothed over it. your own breathing getting thin, almost panicked, because your body didn’t know which touch to chase.
then toji licked you.
slow.
flat.
and most of all…filthy.
your head tipped back so hard it hit the pillow.
gojo groaned around your nipple.
toji did it again, deeper this time, tongue dragging through you like he wanted to make a mess of his mouth. the sound was obscene, wet and quiet under the music, and your entire body flushed hot.
“fuck,” gojo whispered, pulling off your chest to look. “toji.”
“what.”
“you’re-”
“busy.”
“yeah, i can see that.”
toji’s eyes flicked up to yours as he sucked your clit into his mouth.
your hand flew into gojo’s hair.
“oh my god-”
“not him,” toji muttered.
gojo laughed, but it came out strained. “that was so stupid.”
“she clenched.”
“of course she did, it was hot.”
you covered your face with one hand. “i hate both of you.”
toji slid one finger inside you.
your hand dropped immediately.
“liar,” he said.
he worked you open slowly, finger dragging in and out, curling just enough to make your stomach tighten. gojo kissed your neck, then your jaw, then your mouth, swallowing the little sounds you couldn’t hold back. he was still touching your chest, thumb and fingers learning every reaction, every twitch, every place that made you grab at him harder.
toji added a second finger.
the stretch made you gasp into gojo’s mouth.
“there?” toji asked.
you nodded.
he stopped moving.
you whined.
“words.”
“yes,” you said, too fast. “yes, there, don’t stop-”
“polite,” gojo murmured.
“she’s desperate.” toji corrected.
both were true.
toji put his mouth back on you and stopped being merciful.
he ate you out like he wanted you embarrassed. like he wanted you loud enough for the hallway, for the party, for every person downstairs who thought they knew you as the quiet girl with perfect notes and no bad habits. his fingers kept curling into that spot that made your thighs shake, his tongue circling your clit in steady, cruel passes, never rushing, never letting you escape the rhythm.
gojo held you through it, one hand tangled with yours above your head, the other still on your breast. his mouth stayed at your ear.
“listen to yourself,” he whispered. “you hear that? all semester acting like you didn’t want us, and now look at you.”
you made a nasty needy sound.
toji groaned against you. “she likes when you talk,” he said.
gojo’s breath hitched. “yeah?”
toji curled his fingers harder.
your answer came out as a cry.
gojo’s voice went softer. meaner. “you like it when i point it out? like knowing we knew?”
your legs started to shake.
“knew what?” you gasped, even though you were already gone.
gojo kissed the corner of your mouth. “that you wanted this.”
toji sucked your clit harder.
you came with your back off the bed and both their names tangled uselessly in your mouth. “f-ngh fuck!”
it wasn’t pretty. it was too loud, too much. your thighs locked around toji’s head, your fingers yanked at gojo’s hair, and for a few seconds you couldn’t hear the party at all. just your pulse, your breath, gojo’s low praise, and the wet sound of toji working you through it until you pushed weakly at his forehead.
he pulled back slow.
his mouth was shiny.
gojo stared.
toji stared back.
you already knew what was coming.
“wait,” you whispered.
gojo said, “fuck it.”
he grabbed toji by the jaw and kissed him hard and sloppy.
your stomach flipped so violently it was almost embarrassing.
it was nasty in a way that made your skin too tight. gojo licking into toji’s mouth like he wanted to taste what toji had done to you. toji gripping gojo’s hair and making him take it slower, meaner. their mouths wet, their breathing rough, the rivalry turning into something physical and ugly and hot right over your shaking body.
gojo broke first, panting.
toji smirked. “research?”
gojo swallowed. “shut the fuck up.” he grinned
toji’s eyes flicked to your thighs, still trembling. “she liked it.”
gojo looked down at you and smiled like he’d found religion somewhere terrible.
“yeah,” he said. “she really did.”
gojo fucked you first because he couldn’t stand waiting.
he tried to pretend otherwise.
failed.
badly.
“you’re impatient,” you told him as he fumbled the condom wrapper.
“i’m passionate.”
toji leaned against the wall, shirt off now, belt undone, looking like sin with a pulse. “you dropped it.”
gojo looked down.
the condom wrapper was, in fact, on the bed.
“fuck off.”
you laughed, and gojo’s face softened so suddenly it made your chest ache again.
then he crawled over you.
no joke this time.
his hand cupped your cheek, thumb tracing the corner of your swollen mouth. “tell me if you need me to stop.”
“i will.”
“promise?”
“promise.”
toji moved closer, sitting beside you, one hand resting on your thigh. grounding. possessive. a mix of both.
gojo lined up and dragged the tip through your wetness once.
your hips twitched.
“don’t tease,” you whispered.
his eyes darkened. “wasn’t planning to.”
he pushed in slow.
the stretch stole every thought you had.
gojo’s cock was long, and he made you feel all of it. the first inch had your fingers gripping his shoulders. the second had your mouth falling open. by the time he was halfway in, his forehead dropped to yours and his breath shook.
“fuck,” he whispered. “fuck, you feel-”
he didn’t finish.
couldn’t, maybe.
toji’s hand stroked your thigh once. “breathe.”
you dragged in air.
gojo pushed deeper.
your body opened around him slowly, slick and tight and sensitive from toji’s mouth. every inch felt like being split open in the most intimate way, like your body couldn’t decide whether to run from it or pull him closer.
when he finally bottomed out, you both went still.
gojo’s eyes were squeezed shut.
toji laughed quietly. “you alive?”
gojo didn’t lift his head. “don’t talk.”
“that bad?”
“that good.” he let out a rough moan
your walls clenched around him at the admission.
gojo made a sound that was almost a whimper.
toji’s eyes sharpened. “oh, pretty boy.”
“i swear to god-”
“move,” you said.
gojo did.
careful at first. slow pulls and deep returns, like he was trying to memorize the way you took him. his mouth stayed near yours, hot breath catching every time your nails dug into his back. he kissed you between thrusts, messy and open mouthed, moaning into you like he couldn’t help it.
toji watched.
not passively.
he watched like he was learning what ruined you.
his hand slid up your thigh, then over your stomach, then to your chest. he pinched your nipple lightly, and you clenched around gojo hard enough to break his rhythm.
“shit,” gojo gasped.
toji’s mouth curved. “there.”
“don’t help.”
“i’m helping her.”
“you’re making me look bad.”
toji leaned down, mouth at your ear. “is he?”
gojo’s hips snapped harder.
you cried out.
toji’s hand came over your mouth.
“careful,” he murmured. “or everyone downstairs hears how smart girls sound when they get fucked stupid.”
your eyes rolled back.
gojo groaned. “you cannot say shit like that while i’m inside her.”
toji’s palm stayed over your mouth. “she liked it.”
“i know she liked it.”
gojo started moving harder after that.
not rough enough to hurt. rough enough to make the bed shift, to make your body slide up the sheets until toji’s hand on your hip held you in place. he fucked you with his jaw tight and his eyes bright, all that campus confidence stripped down to something needier, something almost desperate.
“I wanted this so bad,” he admitted, voice breaking near your ear. “you don’t even know. every time you corrected me, every time you looked at me like i was- ngh annoying-”
“you are,” you gasped when toji moved his hand.
gojo laughed, wrecked. “yeah? then why are you squeezing my dick like that?”
you did it again on purpose.
his hips stuttered.
toji made a low approving sound. “mean.”
gojo’s fingers found your clit.
you stopped being mean immediately.
the pressure was perfect, tight circles over nerves already swollen and sensitive. you grabbed his wrist but didn’t push him away. couldn’t. your body had started chasing everything- his thrusts, his fingers, toji’s hand on your throat now, loose and careful, not cutting air, just holding your attention.
“look at him,” toji said.
you forced your eyes open.
gojo looked ruined.
white hair stuck to his forehead. cheeks flushed. mouth parted around every breath.
toji’s voice stayed low. “he’s trying so hard not to cum.”
gojo swore.
you clenched.
“don’t,” gojo pleaded. actually pleaded. “don’t do that unless you’re close.”
you were.
embarrassingly close.
toji knew. “she is.”
gojo’s forehead pressed to yours. “yeah? you gonna cum for me?”
you nodded.
“say it.”
“satoru-”
“say it.”
“i’m gonna cum.”
his fingers sped up.
toji’s hand tightened slightly at your throat, just enough to make your pulse jump under his palm.
“then do it,” gojo whispered. “please.”
it hit deep.
your orgasm rolled through you with a slow violence that made your body lock around him. not sharp like the first one- this one dragged, thick and molten, spreading from your stomach to your thighs until you were shaking under him. gojo cursed into your mouth, thrusting through it, losing rhythm as you pulsed around him.
“fuck, fuck-”
toji’s voice cut in. “hold it.”
gojo choked out a laugh. “are you insane?”
“make it last.”
gojo looked like he might die.
you kissed him, soft and mean. “can’t?”
that did it.
his eyes flashed.
he fucked into your cunt harder, chasing the last waves of your orgasm until you were whimpering from sensitivity, and then he buried himself deep and came with your name broken against your neck.
for a second, he trembled over you.
you held him there.
toji didn’t make a joke.
not immediately.
which somehow made it more intimate.
then gojo, still panting, murmured, “ten.”
you started laughing.
toji grabbed the back of his neck. “move before i lower it for her.”
toji didn’t rush.
that was the problem.
if he’d been cocky right away, you could’ve rolled your eyes. if he’d grabbed you immediately, you could’ve blamed the heat on being overwhelmed.
but he gave you water.
he waited until you drank.
he checked your face like he was reading something he didn’t want anyone else to see.
“done?” he asked.
you were sweaty, shaky, sore already, gojo still sprawled beside you trying to remember how lungs worked.
you should’ve said yes.
you said, “no.”
toji’s expression changed slowly.
gojo lifted his head. “oh, she’s insane.”
“you’re one to talk,” you muttered.
toji took the bottle from your hand and set it aside. “hands and knees then.”
your stomach dropped.
then climbed.
gojo sat up immediately. “we’re doing that?”
“you can watch or help.”
“i can multitask.”
“barely.”
gojo opened his mouth.
you put a hand on his chest. “please do not argue while i’m trying to be sexy.”
he looked at your hand, then at your face.
“you’re always sexy,” he said.
quiet.
too sincere.
toji’s hand paused at your waist for half a second.
you pretended not to notice.
moving onto your hands and knees was not graceful. your legs were shaky, your hair was a mess, and the bed dipped awkwardly under three people. gojo helped you settle, brushing your hair out of your face. toji rolled on a condom behind you, then placed both hands on your hips.
the first press of him against you made your breath catch.
his cock was thicker.
your body knew before your brain finished the thought.
“wait,” you gasped.
toji stopped instantly.
gojo’s hand came to your cheek. “breathe.”
you did.
toji’s palm rubbed your lower back, slow and grounding. “not going anywhere.”
“unfortunately,” gojo muttered, trying to lighten it.
you laughed shakily.
toji pushed in a little.
the laugh snapped into a whimper.
“fuck,” you breathed.
“too much?” toji asked.
you shook your head, then remembered. “no. just… slow.”
“i know.”
and he did.
he worked himself into you inch by inch, patient in a way that almost made you angrier because it felt good. not easy. not soft. good. a deep stretch that made your arms tremble and your mouth fall open, made heat crawl up your spine with every bit of space he took.
gojo kept you anchored, thumb brushing your cheek, eyes fixed on yours.
“there you go,” he murmured. “you’re okay.”
toji bottomed out with a low curse.
you couldn’t move.
could barely breathe.
he was heavy inside you. full in a way that made you feel pinned from the inside out.
“still with me?” toji asked.
you nodded. “yes.”
“good.”
then he moved.
the first thrust punched the air out of your lungs.
toji wasn’t frantic. he didn’t need to be. he fucked like he had control over every inch of himself and every reaction you gave him. deep, heavy strokes that made the mattress creak and your fingers curl in the sheets. every thrust forced your body forward toward gojo, and gojo caught you every time, hand at your jaw, mouth hovering close to yours.
“oh,” gojo whispered, watching your face. “that’s different.”
you made a sound that wasn’t a word.
toji huffed. “yeah.”
gojo’s eyes flicked over your shoulder. “smug.”
“accurate.”
toji shifted his angle.
your arms almost gave out.
“there,” he said.
gojo’s mouth parted. “fuck, she just-”
“i felt it.”
you hated that they were talking about you like this.
you loved it so much your body betrayed you immediately.
gojo kissed you, swallowing the next sound, but toji’s pace got heavier and there was no hiding from it. his hands spread over your hips, pulling you back onto him with every thrust. the sound was filthy- skin meeting skin, your wetness, the bed, gojo’s breath catching every time you moaned into his mouth.
“open,” gojo whispered.
you looked up at him.
he didn’t push. didn’t grab.
he waited.
you nodded.
he guided his hard glossy cock into your mouth carefully, groaning as your lips closed around him. one hand threaded into your hair, not forcing, just holding. toji kept fucking you from behind, and the rhythm went messy at first. real. knees slipping. your balance breaking. gojo pulling back once when your breath hitched too hard. toji muttering, “move your hand,” like the three of you were trying to solve a physics problem naked.
then it clicked.
and once it did, it was unbearable.
toji behind you, deep and relentless.
gojo in front of you, trembling under your mouth, praise turning ragged.
you between them, full at both ends, drooling around gojo’s cock because toji kept hitting that spot and making your throat catch around every muffled moan.
“fuck,” gojo gasped. “good girl- so good d-don’t push, baby, just like that-”
toji’s hand came down on your ass.
so sharp it stung.
your body jolted, clenching hard.
gojo nearly lost it.
“warn me,” he choked.
toji did it again.
your moan vibrated around gojo.
his head dropped back. “oh my god.”
toji laughed, breath rough now. “she likes it.”
gojo looked down at you, eyes half lidded. “yeah, i noticed.”
you pulled off him with a wet gasp. “toji-”
“i know.”
“please-”
“what?”
you couldn’t answer.
gojo’s thumb brushed your swollen lower lip. “use your words, genius.”
that nickname, here, like this, made your brain melt.
“touch me, harder” you begged.
toji’s hand slid under you, fingers finding your clit.
you nearly collapsed.
gojo caught your face in both hands and kissed you through it, messy and open, letting you whimper into his mouth while toji fucked you harder and rubbed tight, nasty circles over nerves that were already too sensitive.
“too much?” gojo asked against your lips.
you shook your head.
toji leaned over your back, chest hot against your spine. “then take it.”
your orgasm came apart in pieces.
first your thighs. then your stomach. then your voice, cracking on a cry gojo had to swallow. it was sharper than the last one, almost mean, tearing through you until your vision blurred and your body clamped around toji so hard he cursed against your shoulder.
he didn’t stop.
he slowed, but he didn’t stop.
the aftershocks made you twitch under him.
gojo brushed wet hair away from your face. “you need a second?”
you were shaking.
toji stayed buried, breathing hard.
you nodded.
immediately, he stopped moving.
that should not have made your chest feel warm.
but it did.
gojo kissed your forehead. “there.”
toji’s hand rubbed your hip once. “good?”
you swallowed. “yeah.”
“done?”
you closed your eyes.
you should have been.
instead, you whispered, “one more.”
gojo went still.
toji’s hand tightened.
“yeah?” toji asked.
you nodded. “yeah.”
the last one felt different before it even started.
less like a bet.
more like something none of you were going to know how to talk about tomorrow.
gojo sat against the headboard and pulled you back against his chest. he was warm behind you, arms around your waist, mouth at your shoulder. toji settled between your thighs again, slower now, eyes on your face.
you were sensitive everywhere.
your lips. your chest. your thighs. the place between them that felt swollen and used and still somehow aching for more.
toji noticed the way you flinched when he touched you.
“last one,” he said.
you nodded. “last one.”
gojo kissed your temple. “tell us if you need to stop.”
“i know.”
“say it anyway.”
you turned your head enough to look at him. “i’ll tell you.”
his expression softened.
then toji pushed in.
slow, because he had to be.
because your body was already trembling.
the stretch now was almost too intimate, too much awareness of where he had been, where gojo had been, how thoroughly they had taken you apart and how carefully they kept checking the pieces.
you whimpered.
gojo’s arms tightened around you. “breathe.”
toji paused halfway. “more?”
you nodded. “more.”
his jaw flexed.
he sank in the rest of the way and groaned.
gojo’s hand slid down your stomach, stopping just above where toji was inside you. “feel him?” he pressed down
your head fell back against his shoulder. “yes.”
toji started moving.
slow at first.
deep.
too deep.
the kind of strokes that made your mouth fall open without sound, that made your body rock back into gojo’s chest while gojo’s hands moved over you like he was trying to keep you grounded and ruin you at the same time.
one hand on your breast.
one between your legs.
his mouth at your ear.
toji’s hands under your thighs, holding you open.
you had nowhere to hide.
“look at him,” gojo whispered.
toji was watching you.
not your body. your face.
every reaction. every break. every time your brows pulled together, every time your mouth shaped a sound before it escaped.
“he’s so cocky because you’re letting him see you like this,” gojo said.
toji’s mouth curved. “she likes being seen.”
“no,” you breathed.
gojo’s fingers circled your clit.
you jerked.
toji thrust harder.
“liar,” they said at the same time.
you hated how that made you clench.
toji felt it. “there it is.”
gojo laughed softly, but it broke when your hand reached back into his hair and pulled.
“fuck,” he whispered. “do that again.”
you did.
he groaned against your neck.
toji’s eyes sharpened. “you like making him sound like that?”
your face burned.
gojo’s fingers slowed, punishing.
you whined.
“answer,” he murmured.
“yes,” you gasped. “yes, i like it.”
gojo kissed your neck, open mouthed and messy. “good.”
toji’s pace got rougher.
the room disappeared by degrees.
first the poster.
then the crooked lamp.
then the music downstairs.
until there was only heat and breath and pressure. toji inside you, gojo around you, both of them talking you through it and ruining you with it.
“wanted us so bad,” gojo murmured.
“pretended not to,” toji said.
“walked around campus acting untouchable.”
“not untouchable now.”
you made a sound so desperate it embarrassed you.
gojo kissed your cheek. “don’t hide. it’s pretty.”
“it’s filthy,” toji corrected.
gojo smiled against your skin. “that too.”
your orgasm built slow enough to scare you.
not a snap this time. a tide… heavy and hot, pulling through your stomach, making your thighs tremble in toji’s hands. every circle of gojo’s fingers made it worse. every thrust from toji pushed it deeper. you started shaking before you were even there.
“i can’t,” you whispered.
gojo’s voice softened. “you can.”
toji’s grip tightened. “one more.”
“too much.”
toji slowed immediately.
gojo’s fingers stopped.
your body panicked at the loss.
“no,” you gasped. “no, don’t stop.”
gojo kissed your temple. “then tell us.”
your pride was gone.
burned up somewhere between the hallway and the bed.
“m-make me cum,” you whispered.
toji’s control snapped.
not fully. never fully. but enough.
his thrusts turned harder, dirtier, the bed knocking against the wall in a rhythm the music barely covered. gojo’s fingers moved faster, slick and precise, his other hand holding your jaw so you couldn’t look away from toji.
“there,” gojo whispered. “watch him.”
toji looked wrecked now.
still smug. still toji.
but his breathing was rough, his jaw cleanched, eyes burning.
“cum,” toji said.
and you did.
hard.
your whole body seized, pleasure ripping through you so intensely your voice broke on both their names. you grabbed at gojo’s arms, nails digging in, while toji fucked you through every pulse of it. it was messy and wet and overwhelming, your body clenching around him until he cursed and finally lost his rhythm.
“inside,” you gasped before he could ask. “condom- inside-”
toji buried himself deep and came with a rough groan, hips jerking, hands gripping your thighs like he needed something to hold onto too.
gojo followed after, almost embarrassingly fast once you turned and kissed him. he came with a broken sound against your mouth, one hand tangled in your hair, the other shaking at your waist.
then nobody moved.
not for a while.
the room was hot and wrecked and smelled like sweat and sex and someone’s cheap laundry detergent. your body felt boneless. heavy. sore. so sensitive that even toji pulling out carefully made you wince.
gojo’s arms tightened around you immediately. “okay?”
“yeah,” you whispered. “just… wow.”
toji huffed a quiet laugh and disappeared to deal with the condom.
gojo kissed your shoulder. “wow is good.”
“wow is academically neutral.”
“wow is at least a nine.”
you laughed weakly.
toji came back with tissues and water. “he asking for grades already?”
“emotionally,” you said.
gojo looked offended. “i’m being vulnerable.”
toji tossed him the tissue box.
it hit his chest.
“abuse,” gojo muttered.
you laughed again, and it came out sleepy and breathless.
toji cleaned you up with more care than you expected. gojo held the water bottle for you because your hands were still shaky. nobody made it weird. somehow that made it weirder.
softer.
later, you ended up between them again.
gojo on your left, tracing lazy shapes along your arm.
toji on your right, pretending he wasn’t watching the way your breathing slowly evened out.
your dress was somewhere on the floor. your hair was ruined. your thighs ached. your mouth felt swollen from kissing them both, and you were already dreading the mirror.
for a few minutes, nobody spoke.
then gojo said, “so.”
you closed your eyes. “no.”
“you don’t know what i’m going to ask.”
“yes i do.”
toji huffed. “rating.”
gojo grinned. “academic evaluation.”
“i’m dropping out.”
“too late. final exam already happened.”
you opened one eye. “you are so annoying.”
“and yet?”
toji’s hand settled on your thigh under the sheet. “grade him before he starts begging.”
gojo gasped. “i don’t beg.”
you and toji both looked at him.
gojo paused.
“okay, tonight doesn’t count.”
you laughed and sat up as much as your body allowed, pulling the sheet to your chest.
“fine. gojo satoru.”
he perked up immediately. “yes, professor.”
“strong performance. very attentive. surprisingly good at checking in. excellent mouth, excessive talking, pretty moans.”
toji laughed.
gojo’s ears went pink. “don’t write that part down.”
“i’m writing it twice.”
“score?”
you pretended to think.
gojo looked genuinely stressed.
“nine point three.”
“point three?” he said. “i improved?”
“barely.”
“i’ll take it.”
toji made a sound.
you turned to him. “toji fushiguro.”
“yeah?”
“controlled. patient when it mattered. filthy mouth. good hands. very good hands. lost points for smugness.”
“how many?”
“not enough to humble you.”
gojo muttered, “make it an eight.”
“nine point five,” you said.
gojo shot upright. “NINE POINT FIVE?”
toji’s smile was slow and horrible. “say it again.”
“no.”
“say it louder.”
“absolutely not.”
gojo pointed at him. “he is unbearable now. look what you’ve done.”
“he was unbearable before.”
toji’s thumb brushed your thigh. “office hours for extra credit?”
your breath caught before you could stop it.
gojo saw.
toji felt it.
both of them smiled.
you pulled the sheet over your face. “i hate this class.”
gojo leaned in and kissed the sheet where your forehead was. “liar.”
