𑣲 mdni (18+), f!reader, fratjo x reader, frat boy au, fuckboy gojo, enemies to lovers (only if i make a pt.2 tbh)
credits for any images used at the bottom!
THIS IS A LONG ONE IM SO SORRY LOL
✦┆𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞┊𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
You hated parties. Honestly, you couldn't pin down exactly why maybe it was the drunk college kids, or maybe it was just the fact that you couldn't hear yourself think over the music but you knew one thing for sure: frat parties sucked.
You never really cared for the social scene at college. Even when Yuji would beg you to come out with him, you'd always find some excuse to stay in, claiming you had to study or sleep before an exam. Half the time, it was true, you were on a scholarship and couldn't afford to screw up but tonight, you couldn't use that. Yuji had texted you an hour ago, basically begging you to come to the Alpha Pi house as his birthday gift.
What kind of friend would you be if you actually said no to that?
You'd put in more effort than usual, too. You pulled on a halter top, a pair of shorts, and nylon tights, throwing on an old cardigan you actually liked and your favorite sneakers. You felt decent enough, until you actually got there.
The second you had to squeeze past a few hockey players blocking the open front door who were busy arguing about which girl had the biggest ass you immediately regretted coming out. The music was already too loud, and the two story house was so packed with strangers that you could barely move without bumping into someone.
Before you could even fish your phone out of your pocket to text Yuji, his voice cut through the noise, calling your name. Your head snapped toward the sound automatically, and immediately, your stomach dropped.
There was your best friend, standing next to the only person you wish you didn’t run into tonight. He was standing there like he owned the place which, considering he was the frat president, he basically did. Gojo Satoru. The white haired prick who had been your personal nemesis since you started studying here.
It wasn't just the fact that he was the only person who could actually give you a run for your money in class, it was everything else. The way he carried himself with this infuriating, untouchable confidence. The way every girl in the room seemed to be orbiting around him for a chance to get at him like he was some kind of god. To everyone else, he was the golden boy, the charming star student. To you? He was just a cocky asshole who knew exactly how pretty he was and used it to get away with everything.
You made a beeline for Yuji, pointedly ignoring the way Gojo's blue eyes tracked your movement as you crossed the room.
"Holy shit, Y/N! You actually showed up!" Yuji grinned as soon as you got close enough, pulling you into one of those bone crushing hugs that made your ears ring. He kept an arm draped over your shoulder as he let you go, moving next to you.
"I told you I'd come, didn't I?" you muttered, though you were already wishing you didn’t.
"Satoru, man, this is Y/N my best friend!" Yuji said, tilting his head toward the white haired guy. He took a casual swig from his red solo cup, clearly oblivious to the annoyance you were feeling.
You didn't bother with a polite smile. Instead, when you locked eyes with Gojo, your expression went flat. You didn't miss the way his gaze deliberately raked down your body lingering on your legs before snapping back up to your face. It wasn't a respectful glance; it was a slow stare that made your skin prickle with irritation.
"Ohhh. Y/N." He said your name like it was something he was tasting, dragging out the vowels in a way that felt deliberately provocative.
“Yeah, you got second highest scores recently,” Satoru remarked, his voice cutting through your annoyance with that infuriating confidence. He crossed his buff arms over his chest, grinning down at you like he was already savoring whatever reaction you were going to give him. “First being me, obviously.”
You didn’t give him one, not at first at least. You kept your jaw tight, and your mouth shut. When you didn't bite, he leaned in a tad bit closer, tilting his head like some innocent student asking a question.
“You know, I actually make an excellent tutor if you ever need help catching up,” he offered. The moment those words hit your ears, annoyance washed over your face.
A scoff escaped you before you could stop it. You finally tilted your head up to face him, arms locked across your chest as you narrowed your eyes. "I'd rather eat glass."
The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk that was downright predatory. He didn't seem offended; if anything, he seemed delighted. "Harsh," he drawled, letting out a low whistle that made something uncomfortable twist in your gut. "Have fun being stuck in second place for eternity then, princess."
You rolled your eyes so hard it actually hurt, but your pulse was hammering against your ribs. He knew exactly which buttons to push, and as much as you wished it didn’t work… it always did.
"C'mon man, leave her alone." Yuji intervened, smacking Satoru's shoulder hard enough to break the tension. Yuji straightened up, looking between the two of you with an exhausted expression. "Can you two please just pretend you don't want to murder each other for one night? For my birthday?" He pleaded, clasping his hands together in mock desperation.
You looked at Yuji, your sweet, caring best friend and then back at Satoru, who was still watching you with that infuriatingly knowing glint in his eyes. You let out a long, defeated sigh.
"Whatever. Fine." You held up your hands in mock surrender, taking a step back to put some much needed space between you two.
For the next hour and a half, you performed. It was exhausting. Everytime Yuji glanced over to make sure you two were playing nice, Satoru would shift just enough to brush up against you. Every now and then he would lean close to your ear, murmuring a mix of patronizing comments or to crudely comment on your appearance.
Thankfully, some blonde girl had dragged him off about thirty minutes ago, finally giving you the space to relax. Though, that relaxation only lasted about 15 minutes before you completely lost sight of Yuji. One minute he was doing shots with friends, and the next he had disappeared into the crowd.
You let out a huff of annoyance as you pushed through the ocean of people, sneakers sticking to the dirty wooden floor. When you finally managed to climb the stairs, you let out a breath of relief. Thankfully, upstairs seemed empty, minus the couple making out at the top of the stairs that you had to squeeze past.
Your head was beginning to throb from the bass vibrating through the floorboards. Desperate for five minutes of peace and a bathroom that didn't have a line forming you ducked into the first doorway you found.
You pushed it open gently, only to freeze mid step as you saw two people tangled in the sheets of the bed. "Sorry!" you hissed, slamming the door shut so fast you nearly caught your fingers.
The next room you opened was different. It was dark, oddly tidy, and lacked the dirtiness of the rest of the frat house. You slipped inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click before heading straight for the attached bathroom. After locking yourself in and flicking on the harsh fluorescent light, you leaned against the marble counter, staring at your reflection.
You stayed there for a moment, trying to steady yourself, when you heard the bedroom door shut. Muffled voices followed. A quiet groan escaped your lips and you were seconds away from leaving when you froze.
Your hand was already reaching for the knob, ready to bolt, when you heard it. That voice.
It was lower than usual, stripped of the performative arrogance he'd used on you all night. It was rough, gravelly, and dangerously intimate. There was no mistaking it, especially not after he had been talking in your ear half the night.
"Fuck, you look so good," Satoru rasped, followed by a sharp intake of breath that sounded almost pained. There was a soft creak of a mattress and then a giggle, causing you to freeze.
You held your breath, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird.
"Do you like this?" the girl asked, her voice breathless and needy as wet sounds met your ears. Your face flushed at the images that popped into your head and you slapped your hand over your mouth.
A low, dark chuckle vibrated through the wall, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "Yeah, just like that," Satoru murmured, his tone dripping with something that sounded far too much like satisfaction.
You backed up from the door, face bright red with embarrassment as your hip hit the counter and your hand landed on the edge to steady yourself. As your skin met the cool marble, your palm hit something and knocked it to the floor, and you nearly died from the fear of potentially being labeled a pervert.
You held your breath as the room went quiet, eyes stuck to the door like it would burst open any minute. Their conversation started back up, muffled now by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and then you heard the sound of a door shutting.
Standing there for what felt like forever, you waited for a few minutes before carefully opening the door and popping your head out of it. A breath of relief left your lips when you saw the empty bed and the shut door, finally stepping out of the bathroom.
But the moment your body started to relax, a chuckle startled you and you spun around. Satoru stood by the now closed bathroom door, eyeing you with a look you couldn’t quite figure out as you looked at him.
The silence between you two was deafening, filled only by the distant, muffled thud of the bass from downstairs. You couldn't stop the way your chest was heaving, your breathing uneven as you tried to play off your panic as mere annoyance.
"What?" you snapped, though your voice came out higher than you intended. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, desperate to create some kind of barrier between you and the way his eyes were raking over you.
Satoru didn't answer immediately. He just kept leaning there, one hand shoved into his pocket, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who had just been caught in the middle of... that. A slow, crooked smirk spread across his lips.
"Oh, I don't know," he drawled, taking a deliberate step forward. "Maybe I was waiting for my audience to come out."
Your blood turned to ice. "You- I wasnt-“ You tried to come up with something, but your mind was blank.
"Don't lie, princess. It doesn't suit you." His voice dropped, returning to that rough, intimate tone that had been vibrating through the bathroom wall only minutes ago. "Did you like the show?"
"Wasn’t much of a show," you countered through gritted teeth, though the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you. "I was in here first, Satoru."
The smirk didn't leave his face; if anything, it deepened, turning into something more daring as he took another step closer. "In my room?" he mused, his voice purring as he closed the distance until you could feel the heat radiating off him. "Funny. I don't remember giving you an invitation."
"I didn't ask for one," you snapped, but your back hit the bedroom door with a soft thud. "And I certainly didn't ask to hear whatever... that was."
Satoru leaned in, one hand coming up to rest on the doorframe right beside your head, caging you in. He was so close now that the tip of his nose nearly brushed yours. Up close, the evidence of what he'd been doing was impossible to ignore the way his pupils were blown wide, the flush across his cheekbones, the faint pink kisses that trailed from his jaw to his neck.
"What was 'that' exactly?" he whispered, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Be specific, princess. Since you're clearly such an expert on my business."
"You're insufferable," you breathed. Your heart was hammering so loudly against your ribs you were certain he could hear it. "Move. I need to find Yuji and get out of here."
Instead of moving, Satoru tilted his head, his gaze dropping to your mouth before dragging slowly, deliberately, back up to your eyes.
"Why the rush?" he asked, his thumb grazing the wood of the doorframe mere inches from your ear.
“We were supposed to be pretending to like each other tonight, remember? Yuji's orders,” he said, his voice dropping to a murmur. Before you could retort, he leaned in further, deliberately pressing the full length of his body against yours.
Your breath hitched painfully in your throat as you felt him. The solid heat of his chest, the hard plane of his thighs, and the undeniable pressure of his bulge grinding against your lower stomach. The contact was electric, sending a jolt through you that made your vision swim for half a second. Your head fell back against the wood of the doorframe with a soft thud, your eyes fixed on his.
“You’re so annoying,” you huffed out. Your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, your nails biting into your own palms as you fought every urge to reach out and touch him.
“I’m not going to be one of your conquests, Satoru,” you stated, your voice steadier than you felt. You hated him. God you hated him. You hated his smugness, his arrogance, the way he walked through the world like he owned every inch of it. But fuck, the way he was making you feel right now was intoxicating.
Satoru didn't flinch at your words. Instead, he smirked. He leaned down until his lips were hovering just an inch from your ear, his breath hot and deliberate.
"Conquest?" he repeated, the word coming out as a chuckle that vibrated against your skin. "That sounds like I'm trying too hard, princess."
He shifted again, a slow, torturous grind that made your knees nearly buckle. "Besides," he whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "If I wanted to conquer you, I wouldn't be playing nice. I'd already have you screaming my name."
One of your hands found his chest immediately, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you gave him a soft shove to pull him away from your ear. The sudden absence of his heat nearly stung and goosebumps erupted along your neck at the cold air rushing into the space where he had just been. You let out a shaky, uneven breath that betrayed exactly how affected you were.
“You’re a pig,” you said in a hushed tone, but the insult lacked any real venom like your usual ones did. Your words died in the air as your gaze betrayed you, flickering down to his lips full, parted slightly, and still flushed from what you'd heard moments before.
What was it about Gojo Satoru? It was maddening. You wanted to push him away with everything you had, to walk out that door and never look back, and yet you wanted to pull him in until there was no space left between you two. You wanted to fight him, and you wanted to feel him all at once.
Satoru didn't retreat. Instead, he caught your wrist with one hand, not roughly, but with enough pressure to keep your hand pressed against his sternum.
"A pig?" he echoed, his smirk fading into something darker, more serious. His blue eyes locked onto yours, searching, almost daring you to look away. "Do you think I’m gross?"
He leaned in again, slower this time, giving you every possible second to retreat, to push him harder, to leave. But you remained there, trapped between the doorframe and the overwhelming gravity of him. All because you knew, deep down, that you wanted this. Wanted him.
"Because from where I'm standing," he murmured, his free hand sliding up from your wrist to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip with a softness that you didn’t know he had in him, "you don't look like you're disgusted at all."
Your heart hammered against your ribs, and for the first time since you met him, you didn’t argue back. The air around you was thick with tension, and when the dam finally broke, it wasn’t gentle.
Your hands traveled upwards, lacing through his white hair and yanking him down. You smashed your lips against his in a kiss that was full of nothing but hunger. It was messy, desperate and laced with all of the frustration and annoyance you’d carried for him.
Satoru let out a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a growl, his entire body tensing before he surged forward to meet your aggression. His tongue swept against your lips, forcing inside, tasting like a mix of mint and alcohol.
“Finally,” He breathed out, muttering the words against your lips. One of his hands slid from your jaw to the back of your head, fisting a handful of your hair to tilt your head back more. His free hand landed against the small of your back, pushing your body roughly against his.
You let him lead, let him guide your body in any way he wanted. When his hands left you momentarily, you nearly whined in annoyance before he hooked his arms beneath you, hauling you into the air. Your thighs wrapped around his waist, seeking friction as your back was pressed hard against the door with a thud. He grinded his pelvis against your heat, a broken moan escaping your lips before it was quickly muffled by his tongue.
He carried you away from the door, one hand possessively gripping your ass while the other gripped the skin on your hip so tight you were sure it was going to bruise. The kiss broke for one breathless second as he dropped you onto the bed. A startled yelp escaped you as you landed, arms propping you up as you leaned back slightly.
Before you could say anything, you were staring up at him. Satoru stood over you, silhouetted against the dim LEDs of his room. As he pulled his shirt over with both hands, your gaze was glued to him. Part of you wanted to look away, to mumble something about how annoying he was but you couldn’t manage to say anything as you admired him.
He watched your face as your eyes trailed from his biceps to the ridges of his abs and down to the pronounced v-line and white happy trail. He saw the way your eyes were wide, the way you pulled your kiss-swollen bottom lip between your teeth and the way you squeezed your thighs closer together. He loved the way you looked at him, like he was something worth worshipping. A smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth, lazy and annoyingly satisfied.
“Like what you see, Princess?” he asked, voice rough and low. His veiny hands went to his belt, fingers undoing the buckle at an agonizingly slow pace. He didn’t rush. He wanted to savor this, to remember the way you looked at him.
He took his time, forcing you to watch every movement, every inch of him. Your hands fisted the comforter behind you as you tilted your head up, eyes meeting his. “You’re so fucking annoying.” You breathed out.
It was supposed to be an insult, but as the words left your lips they sounded breathless and wrecked. “Am I?” he asked, his voice a low purr. He tossed his belt aside without breaking eye contact, the leather hitting the floor with a sound that made your stomach flip. A cocky, knowing grin spread across his lips as he looked down at you. "Tell me to stop, Y/N. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop."
You opened your mouth to deny it, to find some spark of anger to push him away, but nothing came. The air in your lungs felt too thin and the feeling growing low in your belly was enough to keep you quiet.
Satoru climbed over you, his heavy weight settling between your thighs and pinning you to the bed. The heat of him was overwhelming, pressing through your clothes as he loomed above you. His hands moved with practiced ease, first finding the edges of your cardigan.
The soft fabric slipped off your shoulders in one smooth motion, pooling around your wrists and behind your back before he tossed the clothing away. His hands didn’t linger; they traveled from your shoulders to your hips, giving them a squeeze as he leaned down to find your lips.
Your thighs were bent backwards, pressing between you and him as he left a trail of wet kisses to your neck.
When he sat up to breathe, your chest tightened at the sight of him. One hand trailed from your side to your stomach, fingertips skimming your skin with a torturous slowness before he hooked them under the hem of your halter top. He lifted the fabric inch by inch, his gaze fixed on the swell of your chest. He paused there, licking his lips with a hunger that made your pulse spike, before yanking the shirt over your head in one fluid motion.
For a moment, he simply stopped. He sat still above you, blue eyes raking over you with the same intensity of a man who had just found something sacred. His palm traced the lace of your bra, a gentle caress that rivaled the predatory look in his eyes. His fingers traveled behind you, hooking beneath the clasp. With one practiced flick, he unclipped it. Your breathing became ragged as he helped you out of the flimsy lace, and you immediately bit your bottom lip. You turned your head away from him as hot embarrassment crept up your spine.
A large, warm hand suddenly found your cheeks, fingers squeezing tightly to force your gaze back to his. “Don’t look away,” he commanded, his voice dropping to a rough, gravelly register that sent shivers cascading down your spine. His free hand climbed higher, his palm cupping one breast while his thumb brushed over your nipple, teasing the sensitive peak. “You’re too pretty for me not to see your face when I take what I want.”
A low hum rumbled in his chest as his gaze dragged downward, landing on your shorts. His fingers fumbled with the button and the zipper, the metallic sound echoing in the quiet room like a countdown. You gasped, shifting your hips to help him slide the denim down your legs. He pulled off your sneakers seconds later.
As the shorts fell away, leaving you in nothing but your plain white panties and the thin black nylons over them, a wave of self consciousness crashed over you.
Fuck, If you’d known you’d be doing this you would’ve worn that cute lace set you own. His eyes darkened as they raked over the pale cotton against your skin, then moved to the dark fabric of the tights stretched over your thighs. He used one arm to pull your legs together and push your knees to your chest, giving him a full view of the wet cotton and nylon between your thighs.
His free hand rubbed the side of your thigh gently before running a finger over the damp patch of your heat. A whimper escaped your lips and his lips twisted into a smirk. “So much for hating me, huh?” He hummed, twisting the tights just enough to rip through them, causing you to gasp. “Shut up,” You mumbled, white knuckling the comforter.
His fingers didn't give you a moment's peace. He pressed against you, testing how slick you were, before his thumb began to grind slow, torturous circles against your clit through the damp fabric. Satoru watched your face, drinking in every twitch of your eyelids and every shuddering moan. The sounds you made were like fuel to him, egging him on until he reached down and hooked the sides of your panties, dragging them to one side to expose your glistening entrance.
The sight of you made his breathing grow ragged. He propped your legs straight up against his shoulders, his arm locking around your knees to hold you in place. A neediness washed over you, as he reached for his own pants. When he freed himself, you couldn't help but gasp at the sheer size of him long, veined, and already leaking pre cum and the way his bare thighs tensed as he settled into the bed.
He didn't ease in. He didn't give you time to adjust. Satoru leaned forward, his weight settling between your thighs as he pressed the swollen head of his cock against your entrance. "Look at me, princess," he growled, his hips giving a short, demanding thrust that tested your tightness. His tip was pressed inside you, inching forward. "I want to see your eyes when I fill you up."
Without waiting for an answer, he drove home. He sank into you in one smooth, relentless motion, stretching you to your absolute limit. Your hips bucked involuntarily as you felt yourself being split open, the fullness of him flooding your senses. A high, keening cry tore from your throat as your body fought to accommodate his girth, your walls clenching around him in desperate spasms.
Satoru let out a guttural sound half growl, half groan and stared down at you, watching as your face flushed and your lips parted. When you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, he pressed as far into you as he could.
“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned, his head tilting back for a split second as your slick walls swallowed him whole. He stayed still for a heartbeat, his blue eyes locked onto yours. When he saw the haze of pleasure clouding your eyes, he began to move.
It wasn't a gentle rhythm. Satoru moved with a punishing, relentless pace. He pulled back until he was almost entirely out, teasing the sensitive entrance of your cunt before slamming back home with enough force to make the bed frame creak. Each thrust was deep, bottoming out against your cervix, sending waves of electricity crashing through your nerves.
"Satoru" you gasped, your fingers clawing at the sheets. The friction of his cock sliding against your swollen clit with every thrust was becoming too much. "Please" you begged.
"Please what?" he challenged, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He increased the speed, his hips working like a piston, driving into you with an increasing force. "Tell me what you want, Y/N. Say it."
"More," you whined, your breathing ragged as your climax began to build. "Fuck, I hate you!" You whimpered. A dark laugh rumbled in his chest at your words and he stopped moving, leaning over you until your knees were pressed against your chest. His hand gripped your face, forcing you to look at him. “You hate me? You hate this?” He asked in a hushed tone, face inches from yours as he slammed deep into you. Your eyes nearly rolled into your head as a moan left your lips, brain a mix of pleasure and blankness. “Mhm, I hate.. I hate you.” You babbled out the lie, knowing you felt anything but hate for him right now and knowing that he’d give you exactly what you wanted because of it. His hips pulled away, only for a second, as his grip on your face tightened until it hurt. Then, he thrusted into you again, your hips bucking up to meet him.
A string of curses left his lips as he shivered, pulsing inside of you, hand leaving your face with a soft tap. In a swift movement, he flipped you over. Before you could even gasp at the sudden change, he grabbed your hips, hauling them upward until you were on all fours, your spine arched and your ass thrust high.
"You're a shit liar, Y/N," he growled against the shell of your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
Without warning, he slammed into you from behind. One rough, devastating thrust sent him fully inside you. He pressed your head deep into the mattress, pinning you down while he began a relentless, driving assault. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass filled the room with a wet, rhythmic sting that punctuated every thrust.
He leaned further over you, his weight crushing you into the mattress as both hands pressed against either side of your head. The pressure inside you became unbearable with each thrust, a coiled spring of heat that finally snapped. Your vision became white as you came, your body arching violently beneath him. A broken moan tore from your throat, drool escaping your parted lips as you lost all sense of where you ended and he began.
Satoru let out a groan at the feel of your cunt clamping around his cock. His pupils were blown wide as he drove into you one last time, a final thrust that buried him to the hilt. "Fuck " The curse was ripped from his lungs as he came, his body stiffening as he flooded you with heat. His hands slid down from your head to your hips, fingers digging bruises into your skin as he pinned you down, holding himself impossibly deep to make sure every single drop of his release sank into your core. Your walls seized around him in desperate, rhythmic spasms, milking him with every frantic flutter of your climax.
The silence that followed was deafening. As the overwhelming waves of pleasure went away, leaving you boneless and hypersensitive, the reality of what had just happened began to crash down on you. Your skin felt too hot, your thighs felt weak, and worse your brain was finally starting to function again.
You turned onto your back and stared at the ceiling, chest heaving. The feeling of the wetness between your legs and the humiliating sting of your own surrender was enough to make you upset.
You weren't upset because it was bad, God, it had been devastatingly good. You were just upset because you had let Satoru use you, probably how he used all the other girls on his roster. You had fallen for the performance, the dominance, the way he made you feel like the only thing in his world, knowing damn well he probably acted the same way to half the city.
Beside you, Satoru let out a long, satisfied exhale. He rolled onto his back, limbs sprawled across the sheets with the casual arrogance of a man who had just won a war. He looked utterly unbothered, his pale eyes half lidded as he watched you with that infuriatingly smug expression. It wasn’t until he said something, that you realized you were glaring at him.
"Don't look at me like that," he murmured, though you hadn't said a word. "You enjoyed every second of it."
"Fuck you," you snapped, though it came out more as a breathless wheeze than the insult you intended. You scrambled backward onto your knees, clutching the tangled sheets to your chest to cover your body, trying desperately to reclaim some shred of dignity. "Get out."
Satoru raised an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth curling upward. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," you said, your voice gaining strength even as your thighs squeezed together at the sight of his smile. You pointed toward the door with shaking fingers. "Get out of the room."
A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, making your stomach flip in a way that infuriated you. "That's my bed you're currently naked in, Y/N. It’s my room."
"I don't care! Out!" you demanded, your face flushing crimson. Reaching towards a pillow, ready to throw it at him.
Satoru stared at you for a long moment, his gaze raking over your flustered face, lingering on your swollen lips. For a second, you thought he might push it, that he might try to pull you back into him. Instead, he simply rolled out of bed with an amused grin on his lips.
"Fine, princess," he said, reaching for his scattered clothes with zero remorse. When he was dressed again, he paused at the doorway as he pulled it open. The booming sound of music poured inside and you watched as he pre-locked it. "But we both know you don’t hate me as much as you claim you do."
With a wink that made you want to throw a pillow at his head, he disappeared back out into the party, leaving you alone in his sheets, furious at him, furious at yourself, and terrified of how badly you already wanted him to come back.
art by thatsallitchief , dividers by @uzmacchiato , @pixopix
𑣲 mdni (18+), f!reader, smut, power dynamics, femdom, praise kink, aizawa is a sub hehe, he calls u mommy! tiniest bit of pet play (puppy as a pet name)
this is my first time trying this publicly so it’s prob bad LOL, it’s just an old draft i have, sorry if it’s bad! :) credits for any images used at the bottom! SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES!!
— in which he struggles to keep his composure under your gaze while on a video call. You set the rules, you hold the control, and all he can do is listen and obey.
✦ ┊𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃┊𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐀
It was an ungodly hour when Shota finally stumbled through the front door of his apartment, every inch of his being screaming in protest. His calloused fingers fumbled with the lock, coiling around the small key and muttering a string of curses before finally unlocking it.
He trudged inside like he was chained to the floor, exhaustion seeping deep into his bones. He’d already been tired after working, but then Hizashi had dragged him to a fucking karaoke bar of all places.
His ears felt like they were still ringing.
With a grunt of displeasure, he kicked of his shoes and slammed the door shut. Tossing his key to the closest surface near him, he pulled himself towards the couch and nearly fell face first on it.
His tongue swept over his teeth as he turned onto his back, cringing at the fading taste of whiskey. Even as his body begged for sleep, his eyes refused to close. He couldn’t stand it, the loneliness.
He’d often dreamt of coming home to someone, having someone to hold and cherish. He wasn’t that kind of person though, no, he couldn’t be. Between being a teacher at U.A and working as an underground hero, it was time consuming. He barely had time to eat and sleep, let alone take care of another person.
Shota hauled himself towards his couch with a pained grunt, his joints popping and protesting the sudden movement. He sat there on the edge of his couch, head in his hands, a disappointed click of his tongue echoing through the silent room.
Fuck, I’m a mess, Aizawa thought bitterly. All those nights spent dreaming of coming home to someone, of having someone to hold and cherish. But he knew better. A man like him, with a life like his, it was impossible.
His mind drifted to the things he'd never have time for, the love he'd never be able to have. The way he'd worship every inch of soft skin, the sounds he'd draw from kiss-swollen lips.
With a sigh, Aizawa reached for his laptop, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He had a secret, a dirty one he usually tried to ignore. But tonight, it called to him like a siren's song, promising a chance to escape from his lonely existence.
UnwindWith.me, the browser tab flashed as he loaded the site. It was a video-chat room, a digital hub of desperation where souls like himself could find a moment of connection. No matter what that connection might be. He'd stumbled upon it by accident, almost trashing the spam email that had led him here.
Now, it was his dirty little secret. A place to talk to strangers, to flirt and tease, to imagine for a moment that he could be a different man. A man who had time for love, for intimacy. A man who wasn't so fucking lonely all the time.
His profile booted online slowly, a small green circle popping up by his name. The username was randomized, a mix of words and numbers that resembled every other tag on the site.
A soft ding echoed from his computer moments later, and his chest tightened. He hadn’t been online in weeks, pushing down that lonely feeling in his stomach like it would disappear, but now it was screaming at him when he recognized your username.
Adjusting his position on the couch, he moved the laptop from his lap to the coffee table in front of him. His fingers pressed gently against the back of the screen, pointing it down in a way that shielded his face from the camera.
Before tapping the trackpad, the mouse hovering over your invite, he cleared his throat. It was now or never.
Click!
It took a second for his eyes to adjust, the purple LEDs of your room shining bright through the screen. You’d been laying on your side, your head propped onto your hand despite it being out of view of the camera.
“Hi Sho,” You said in that sweet voice of yours, the voice that sent goosebumps down his spine each time he heard it. Sho was what he’d introduced himself as, but god he wished he could hear his actual name from your lips.
With only his body in the camera, he leaned back a bit and ran a hand through his hair, the long black tips barely in view as he let his hands rest in his lap. “Hi, Y/N.” He responded, voice low and clearly tired.
His eyes trailed over the screen, eyeing the way your thighs pressed together and how your breasts sat nicely in the v-neck shirt you wore. He couldn’t look away, not that he wanted to anyways.
He watched the way your chest rose with each breath only to fall moments later, the way you tapped your nails against the flat surface of your laptop like it was your version of humming to a song in your head.
“It’s been a minute,” He hesitated, letting one hand rest on his stomach. Aizawa had always been nervous during these chats of yours, never knowing what to do with his hands when you both tried to make small talk.
His nerves settled as he heard you laugh, watching the way your body shook softly. “Did you miss me?” You hummed, your nails no longer tapping as you pulled your hand to rest on your side, fingers playing with the hem of your patterned pajama shorts.
He loved how soft they looked, how pretty the pattern of tiny bows were. “Always,” He huffed, feeling his cock twitch inside his pants. “Promise?” You asked, and he could practically hear the pouting. He wished he could see your lips, pull them between his teeth before tasting them. “Want me to show you how bad I missed you?” He offered, voice a bit louder now.
He wasn’t tired anymore, that much he was sure of.
“Hmm..” You paused, fingers stilling against the side of your thigh. “Show me, but no touching unless I say so. Okay?” Your voice met his ears and fuck, he nearly came in his pants right there. He loved it, loved when you told him what to do. So he listened, just like he always did.
His calloused fingers were on the move, fumbling with his belt like he hadn’t ever used one before. With it finally off and a tug of his zipper, he sprang his cock from his boxers and his hand hovered over it.
Pulling his lip between his teeth, he forced his hands to his lap, sweat dripping down his neck as he fisted his pants. “What a good boy,” You purred, voice so soft in his ears. His cock twitched, hips raising lightly as he held back the urge to thrust into the air. There was something intoxicating about the way you treated him, the way you always referred to him as a good boy or commanded him to do whatever you wanted.
It was freeing.
And also hot as fuck.
He watched as you turned to sit upright, crossing your legs as your hands trailed from your thighs to your stomach. Your pretty pink nails reached underneath the hem of your shirt, tugging the v-neck up and over your head.
He had to hold back a groan, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth so roughly that he nearly broke the skin. Your breasts looked so soft in the purple light, the white lace of your bra barely hiding anything from sight.
“I figured I’d give you a treat, since you’ve been gone so long.” You hummed, hand raising to your breasts so your fingers could trail overthe swell of them. “What do you say?” You asked, leaning a bit closer to the camera, licking your lips despite the fact that he couldn’t see your face.
“Thank you,” He groaned out, fisting his pants and he held back the instinct to touch himself. “Ah Ah.” You scolded lightly, dropping your hand from your chest to wave your finger defiantly into the camera. “Seems like somebody forgot their manners. Say it right.” You commanded, and my god did he listen.
A sound of pleasure escaped his throat, raw and husky. “Thank you, Mommy.” He huffed out, hips twitching as pre-cum leaked from his tip, traveling down his pulsing length. As much as he liked to pretend otherwise, he loved it when you treated him this way. He loved calling you Mommy, worshiping you like you were a goddess, and he would do it forever if he could.
“What a good puppy,” You grinned, face off camera, watching as he struggled to sit still on the edge of his couch. “Why don’t you show me that pretty mess you’re making right now?” You urged, using your fingers to unhook the back of your bra and holding it tight against your chest so it wouldn’t fall off.
“Mhmph,” He whimpered, raising one of his hands and pulling it towards his cock. He used his index finger and his thumb to gather up as much pre-cum as possible, squishing it between those two numbers as he showed it off in the camera. It glistened softly due to the light of his laptop screen, stringing together like spit as he spread his fingers.
You let out a happy sound, and then quickly praised him for listening. “Good job puppy, why don’t you tell me how it tastes?”
His breath hitched in his throat at the idea, tasting himself? He’d never done anything like that before, but for you he’d do anything. He pushed the camera upwards, just slightly, with his free hand. Then, he pushed his fingers between his lips and let his tongue gather the pre-cum.
His cock twitched at the salty taste, and his eyes focused on his laptop screen awaiting your approval like the good boy he was. “You’re listening so well today.. go ahead and reward yourself.” You said, pulling your arms through the straps of your bra and letting the flimsy lace drop to your lap.
“Fuck..” He groaned, fingers leaving his mouth and trailing a salty mix of pre-cum and spit to his cock. “God, I need you.” His voice was husky, words stuck deep in his throat as he pumped himself. His eyes trailed over your breasts like they were gold, mouth slightly agape as he silently wished to taste them.
“Goddess, please, can I cum?” He moaned out, hips meeting his fist as he pumped faster. You waited a beat, watching as his body twitched and as he edged himself closer to finishing.
“Cum for me, Sho.”
creds for images @treatpeoplewithgraphics , @uzmacchiato
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